The Wielder of Death Magic

“Better than I expected,” thought Igna.

“120 MILLION,” shouted a man from across the room. The room simultaneously turned in shock. Most were acquainted with the current entourage.

“120 million, one, two, three,” and slam, the deal finalized. Thus ended a night of new beginnings, the potential of auctions and the art’s trade grew apparent. The organizer made a note to welcome the young noble. In her words, “-relics and works of art are very sought after here in Alphia. Due to constraints, there’s not much we can physically do. Therefore, the event tonight was an avant gout. Results were very generous, a two million donation from the viscount. You singlehandedly covered the profits from every piece put tonight, for that, I’m very grateful. Here,” she handed a card, “-there’s the location to my art gallery. Come by anytime.”

Negotiations took precedence. The tempest of goodbyes and good wishes stormed the dim corridors. Aceline made notes to run before the mess. Therein, she waited backstage in the company of a familiar attendant.

“Aceline,” said Igna, “-thanks for keeping an eye on them.”

“They were very quiet,” said she, “-I ought to freshen up. Mind taking over?”

.....

“Take Saniata with,” said he, “-can never be too careful nowadays.”

“Are you worried?” she wondered.

“Yes, I lost you two times already. No need for another. Get going,” and so, with lute in hand, the ladies ran for a private break. Vanesa calmly jumped onto his back, Draconis fixated on the phone screen.

“Lord Igna,” said the buyer, “-let us decide the payment method.”

He returned with a grain of doubt, the familiar face and suit didn’t inspire confidence. Led by Sophie, the duo made for an office upstairs. Warm coffee arrived on a silver platter, the tall ceiling breathed a sense of freedom. Looking up felt the same into Elysium, an intended misplaced peep to catch angels on their angelic stroll. Reason for said observation laid in the paintings, and domed roof of white. A divine themed asylum for the aftermath.

“How goes it, Pluton,” cups returned to the glass table.

“A member of Shadow’s faction?” sipped Igna, “-has lady mother asked for I to be spied upon. Was our fight really a matter to bring the organization into question?”

“They tasked me to overseer thine actions,” said he, “-selling off the ring to the late king, how very ignorant of you...”

“Hold on a moment,” he sighed, “-what I do is my business. My job is to create a faction able to rival the opposition. I must do so without the interference of the DG or Phantom.”

“Selling off such a precious ring is the way forward?” he smirked, “-not very smart, tis a priceless commodity.”

“You,” he pointed, “-shut your mouth,” *Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* crystalized blood sowed the lips shut. *Dialing Mother.*

“Hello,” she answered.

“Hello, mother, I’m very disappointed.”

“I should be the one criticizing, how dare my son sell off such a precious item from our dynasty.”

“Waste of breath,” he facepalmed, “-listen, mother, I get you’re trying to be my guardian. I appreciate it very much. However, I’d like to ask for kindness to be kept for in the household. I don’t need interference, how can thee expect me to sit and watch whilst nothing was done when my mentor was killed. No, scrap that, the same happened with Alicia. Things are apparent, being rich and powerful makes one either smug or overly conservative. You and aunt have fallen into the latter half. There’s an organization to feed, mouths, and people to care, I understand. They’re family, tis nothing to be shunned for. My concern is how you rudely interfered in my affairs. I don’t come to Rotherham and say how things are meant to be done. My task is as was given. This was a chance for me to step into the world of arts and make a profit. Phantom’s involvement’s but soiled the plan. Good job on keeping a watchful eye,” the frustration kept on piling, the words turned daggers. She who listened dawned a face of annoyance, Elvira and Julius surrounded the phone. “Will Phantom provide the necessary funds?” he inquired.

*Knock, knock,* the interruption broke the argument. Courtney’s visage bordered ire.

“Don’t get worked up,” added Elvira.

“Cousin is right,” sighed Julius, “-I cannot approve for his tone of voice.”

“Hell no,” slammed Courtney, “-I won’t accept this. Here I am trying to be a good parent.”

“Keep the guilt for yourself,” whispered across the phone which led into a distant opening of the doors. The representative of Stiol hopped into view, “-pardon the intrusion,” he said and welcomed himself.

“No trouble,” said Igna, “-might I know of the current visit?”

“Ahh,” he tiptoed, glanced over Igna’s shoulder, “-the man’s rather uncomfortable.”

“Let him be,” sighed Igna, “-pawns are meant to be wasted.”

“The annoyed look makes the visit worth the trouble,” he rubbed his hands, “-see, my client is very interested in the item, it borders obsession.”

“Price,” said Igna, “-this one here has offered 120 million, what about you?”

“The item hasn’t been sold yet?”

“Not to my knowledge,” the sofa buckled by Igna’s weight, “-what say you, the deal’s over for the sake of the outside world. The owner doesn’t interest me, provide funds, and tis yours.”

“I see,” he walked to the table, “-the man my lady described is better than I expected.”

“Better than you expected?” a frown threw the man off-guard.

“Slip of the tongue,” he dropped next to the shady character, “-this one has killed before,” he sniffed, “-not a pleasant smell.”

“Quit the theatrics, my stomachs rather angry. I’ve spent enough time here as is.”

“Fine, fine. My lady wishes to double the current price. 240 million for the ring.”

“On what condition.”

“Accompany me to dinner,” he said, “-I’ll transfer the money right away. I but need insurance to follow her wishes.”

“A dinner,” he looked outside, “-right now?”

“Can’t keep a lady waiting.”

“You see, I have children and a companion to take care of. Family must take precedence.”

“Tis no issue, bring the party, tis all in good faith.” The auction ended at last. Courtney ordered the man to halt the ‘supervision’. What was said over the phone brought questions more than answers.

“What now?”

“What you mean?”

“What happens next. The spy was found out, I doubt he’ll let our men safety tail him.”

“Don’t mind my interjection. How about we leave cousin to do his bidding, tis the quest after all. Rather, why be persistent on keeping so tight a leash.”

“I fear the worst,” frowned Elvira, “-my ability to foresee into market trends is arguably the best the world has ever seen. Business is but secondary to the reach we have. Throw a stray Igna on said world, if results do not suit the expected outcome, he might just change the damned world. He’s too powerful,” she glanced at Courtney.

“Can’t forget the consciousness backing his actions,” a chilly breeze rattled the windows, “-even when the man was weak and poor, he could change the fate of surroundings to suit his need. He’ll stop at no lengths to get what is wanted. The wielder of death magic is the embodiment of unfairness. No matter the slope, he’ll climb even if it means crawling up.”

“I dare say it’s uncertainty. I trust my cousin. His words were genuine, ‘family must take precedence’ the pain of losing people close to him must be a soul-ridden scar.”

“You bet,” threw Courtney, “-I hope nothing bad comes from the freedom. Don’t become Icarus, my dear son.”

‘Icarus was a failure,’ thought Igna, the scenery changed for a busier road, ‘-he relied on an old man to make his wings. As a result, he died. If only he had thought to question the wings. Hell, crafting for one for personal use was another viable option.’

Melmark at 22:30 was quite the show of technology. The AFR-guided car tailed Igna’s sudden transit to a restaurant. Speaking of the tallness and exquisite nature of the surrounding would but waste time. The ways of richness had become bland. Don’t be mistaken, the emotion spawn not from pride, rather, tis came from a jaded feel toward oneself.

“Here we are,” the lift climbed to an empty restaurant. The staff flung bemused glances. All the seats were bought. After a short walk, a beautifully resplendent lady sat in the company of another. One bore the melancholic air reminiscent of the moon, as the other, she shone, rather, twinkled with her attention to the night. Her jewelry and preciously cared garments screamed of upper-nobility. Aceline and the children weren’t much impressed.

“Pleasant night sky, is it not?”

“Depends on the person,” returned Igna, “-tranquility can be both good and evil. Peace after the war is nice, and quiet before a storm is another matter. Goes to the simple question of, does one see the glass half-empty or half-full,” the pragmatic response solicited a humble glance. Crystal-like sprinkles layered her hazel-colored irises.

“Luna and Syhton.”

“I’m surprised you know,” said the enigmatic Syhton.

“Goddess Luna gave it away,” he sat and stared, “-I was under the impression the lover to Qhildir had been cursed to star... no, wait, forget it. The curse was but a ploy to fool the divine and mortal realm. The god of death did spare thine life. Gods are very childlike in their decision,” a waiter arrived.

“What then?” she kindly tilted her head.

“Nothing, really. I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal. Tis a pleasure to make thy acquaintance, Lady Syhton, and Lady Luna, I must thank thee for the lute. She’s grown fond of it.”

“No worries,” said the exhausted Luna, “-I was to sleep.”

“Manners,” fired Syhton, “-reasons aside, I wished to meet the inheritor to Scifer, and Origin’s will.”

“If you wish to speak to Origin,” the eyes shut, “-do so without restraint,” the eyes reopened, crimson faded into white.

The next hour ended over a nice dinner. Vanesa and Saniata gave to fatigue. It had been a heavy meeting. Talks between two watchers were boring at most. Luna spent her time playing with Draconis and Aceline. Farewell exchanged; 240 million showed the current balance. ‘A night well spent.’

“Don’t pout at me,” said Igna, “-I’ve fulfilled Vanesa’s and Saniata’s will. Luck has it, across the street is a game shop. Let’s get what you wanted.” They behaved angelically; good manners begot good rewards.

Out to the west, Asmo, Kul, and éclair headed home. Dusk hid as Dawn rose loudly. The manor screamed at the sound of Saniata’s deathly yells. “WHAT HAPPENED?” the door burst opened; “-you guys ok?” sweated Igna.

“Good morning pop,” smiled Saniata, “-I was playing the lute and singing,” she pointed to a passed-out Draconis, his eyes rolled back.

“Turn off the alarm,” complained Vanesa, “-I need more sleep. Wake if food... I worked out for a whole week... hibernation...”

“Seriously,” he facepalmed, “-I thought you were in danger,” he grasped Draconis’s shoulders, *Smack,* “-wake up boy.”

*Gasp,* “-TIS LEVIATHAN’S SCREECH.”

“No, it was your sister’s lovely voice.” The sweet aroma of a hearty breakfast roused the appetite.

“Good morning people,” said red fiery hair, “-we’ve come for a house visit,” winked Intherna with a spoon and pan.

“Welcome back, I’ll have a shower, take care of the kids.”

“No problem,” she speared the boy in turn.

News loudly broadcasted on the flat-screen, towel around the shoulder, ‘-what’s the noise about?’ he ambled to the children eating cereal.

*Breaking News: Gang violence escalates, 50 men found butchered in their house.*

.....

“You responsible?”

“Correct,” smirked Asmo, “-also, congratulation on the 240 million.”

“A bit excessive for a ring, wasn’t it,” he chuckled, “-no matter, great job out there.”

‘They’re amazing,’ thought Aceline, ‘-a talent-filled entourage...’ her fist curled, ‘-what about me, what can I bring to the table...’

“Stop it,” nudged Miira, “-you’re part of the family too.”