Navas Tezrin by Jason Randell
All things are shrouded in mystery and deception. This is as our Lord Naveh commands. Truth is an illusion, discipline is all. This is a story of the fearful Tezrin the Black. Only our master knows the reason Tezrin's story has been recorded.
Rethem is a ripe garden for our master's work. Political struggles between factions both religious and secular are commonplace. The country is in the middle of one of these struggles when our story begins. Cedric Suronax and his cousin, Menden Suronax were the two legitimate heirs of their Uncle's titles and estates. Both men had legitimate claims but Menden had the support of his late uncle's wife. After months of lengthy litigation as well as open skirmishes between the two lord's forces, it appeared that Menden would emerge victorious. On the eve of Menden's victory a strange man came to Cedric's manor with a very unusual proposal.
"Your heart's desire may be fulfilled if you can afford the price." The dark stranger offerred.
Cedric's first inclination was to summon his guards and have the man tortured for entering his manor unannounced. Something about the stranger's steely gaze convinced him that it would be a fatal mistake to try.
"Name your price, Dark One." He answered.
"Fear not for your goods I have no interest in them. Rather I would extract a promise from you. If you ever have a male child, you will give the infant to me 'for his education' of course."
At this point Cedric smiled. What did he care, offering something he did not even possess in exchange for political power and wealth. Besides, Cedric had no plans for children, he simply wanted to claim the fruits of his uncle's hard work. He quickly agreed to the stranger's terms. The dark one, then placed a knife across his palm, and with the dripping blood from the wound painted an intricate symbol upon Cedric's table.
"When you see this symbol again, it is time to fulfill your promise." The stranger said as he slid towards the door. He turned and gave Cedric one last glance, "Do not think that you can escape this fate that you have set for yourself."
One week later a herald came to Cedric with news of Menden. It appeared that Menden had gone stark raving mad. He screamed constantly about screaming voices and faceless spectres of his dead ancestors. These apparitions vexed him to the point that he could no longer sleep, despite a trip to Kanday for a Peonian bishop's Exorcisim. He was no longer able to even recognize his own family or his own name. Cedric's aunt had no choice but to rule in Cedric's favor. About two weeks after Cedric had assummed the titles of his Uncle, Menden had hung himself in his bed chambers, leaving only a cryptic message, "Cedric's pact has doomed the Suronax Clan"
The years began to pass. Cedric developed into a shrewd and calculating lord. He even began to forget about his pact made with the stranger. He extended his holdings through political savvy, outright war and even a marriage of alliance. Almost ten years to the day after his bargain was sealed, Cedric's wife gave birth to a strong male infant. With the birth of his son, Cedric began to become more and more paranoid. He jumped at shadows and felt that all of his advisors were ploting his demise. Finally, Cedric came up with a plan.
Six months after his son was born, Cedric gathered a group of his best, most trusted knights and organized a trip to Melderyn. Perhaps, he thought, his son would be safe there. The day of the voyage arrived uneventfully. He met the harbor master at the docks and watched his knights expect the ship that was to take his son to safety. Finally, he met with the captain of the ship. "Let me present my credentials." the captain offerred. With that, he pulled out a charter and showed it to Cedric. Cedric's blood turned to ice. Upon the parchment was the exact symbol he had seen upon his dining table. "I trust there will be no problems with this my Lord. Trust me, I will see the boy safely to his destination. Let it not be said that the Suronax break their pacts."
Cedric paused for several seconds in indecision, then he fled the ship. Several months later he received word from his contact in Melderyn. No one ever saw the ship carrying his son and his men arrive there, it was as if the ship had never existed. There were no records of it either in Melderyn or in the harbor master's logs in Golotha. Cedric never recovered from the incident. He became increasingly paranoid, and began to mutter many of the same things his cousin Menden had in the final weeks of his life. Finally, during a heated negotiation with a political rival, Cedric accussed the other lord of being in league with the black thieves that stole his son. Before anyone could react, he had drawn a knife and plunged it into the man's neck. The other lord's bodyguards chopped Cedric to ribbons. Such was the end of Cedric of Suronax.
The child was raised under the discipline of our Lord of the pitch shadows. Like all novices he had no name. He was expected merely to obey. Punishment for disobedience was swift and torturous. Regardless, the young novice learned all the lessons quickly. His superiors were quite impressed not only with his skills but with his obedience as well. At the age of 16 he was given a task that for an Adranatha (acolyte) was unheard of, he would participate in a ritual hunt known as a Herth-Akan. He and three dranatha (senior acolyte) were chosen to accomplish this task. A rogue dranatha had defied the laws set down by the Tarava (master of discipline). His disobedience had to be met with a swift death. The four assassins were sent out a day after the culprit. Three days later the guilty priest was found dead in an inn. Out of the four killers, it was the adranatha who had accomplished the deed.
The adranatha was brought before the Garana (high priest) of his temple. "You have succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Before you were born, I received a vision. A vision telling me of a great assassin that would be born to a noble house of Rethem. You have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are he. There is one test left for you. Take this knife and and cut the lips from your face. It is a disgrace before our lord, that you should smile with pride for your deeds. You must learn humility before your master. Hence forth the only smile on your face shall be the grinning mask of Shinkra-Akra, Naveh's glowing skull visage."
Without even a moment's hesitation, the novice sliced the lips from his jaw. His face, taking on the cruel characature of a skull. Although the boy nearly fainted from the pain, his discipline allowed him to remain standing.
"Now, Dranatha, you shall henceforth be called Tezrin."
The Lord of the Last Illusion was pleased with his disciple. Twenty years passed and Tezrin served the needs of the temple and his dark master. He participated in many Herth-Akans and slew the victim himself each time. Soon he was granted a very holy and powerful dagger, said to have been forged in "the place most holy," Harsa-Navla itself. If someone contacted the temple for a difficult assassination it was always Tezrin that carried out the murder. It is said that he has killed so many, that his hands are stained with the blood of his victims. When a person looked into his eyes, they cannot see a human being, instead, they see the laughing face of Naveh. Our temple is truly blessed, within its walls we have an Navas-Kara (assassin) of such caliber that any who have ever seen him have died. And still, he serves the will of our great Lord.