The Wielder of Death Magic

The door pushed, a rare visage juxtaposed between the ajar frame and creamish walls sipped, “-the place sure has changed,” it pushed with its shoulder, stepping into the chambers nonchalantly, “-why is my Dragon looking so down.”

“Lord Death?”

“Undrar,” he smiled, “-the tea sure is great. Why do you look so gloomy?”

“A lot has happened, lord Death. I should ask the same question, were you defeated?”

“Oh no, I’ve been taking a vacation. You know how we retired gods have a domain of our own, well, courtesy of Creation. He did do some wizardly to gain the necessary mana. I’m sure it was mentioned somewhere. No matter, I was feeling home-sick…”

“Really?”

“No, I was bored,” he sipped and sat cross-legged on a suspended crescent-shape swing, “-very comfortable,” he complimented and focused on the matter at hand, tea. “Thought I’d check in on my heir.”

“You know, don’t you?” she side-glanced.

.....

“Know what?”

“The Adjudicator… the three in one?”

“Right, he’s awakened?”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“I suppose so,” he sipped, “-tell me, Undrar, are you surprised?”

“No, I’m angry.”

“Doesn’t look so. You seem defeated, carrying the long-waited regret of a girl unable to show her affection to a boy she likes.”

“Could you not phrase it like I’m in kindergarten?”

“To me, you’re always the little blond-haired hot-tempered babe I’ve cared for and raised. Undrar, will you fight him?”

“Yes, without a doubt.”

“So, declare war against his faction?”

“Yes.”

“For what reason?”

“Reason?”

“Yes, the reason,” he took a big pause and tasted the brewed leaves, “-you going to war against a friend sounds, well, sounds like a you thing to do.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re bad with hiding your feelings, Undrar. What do they say, let me think,” he pondered, “-right, they call it a tsundere from where Scifer hails.”

“Am I now?” she relaxed her shoulders and exhaled, “-Lord Death, what am I supposed to do?”

“Do what you want,” he smiled, “-the title of God of Death is yours,” he pointed at her symbol, “-you’ve grown into the ideal reaper of soul. I say this by counting Staxius in the ranking. Far as I’m concerned, you’re well suited for the position and the death element seems not to have the attached curse of misfortune. I guess it’s his handy work, to clean the element and lay out a foundation for the future.”

“Lay out a foundation?”

“Yes, may it be Alfred, Staxius, or Igna, there’s a common link binding their eccentric natures, foundation. They plan for future generations and think much before acting. Well maybe not so much with Igna, he fundamentally has a few screws loose. What I’m saying, Undrar, and not to say your feelings are wrong or misplaced, what I point to is this, empathy.”

“Empathy.”

“Tell me honestly, have you thought about what he’s trying to do?”

“No…”

“Then, it’s fine. You don’t need to figure out his intention or grand plan, hell, don’t bother talking to him. Trust your ideals and meet him square on. The greater ideal will perceive, and who knows, despite the end of Reality, there may yet rise a realm far better than what we have,” he extended his hand, “-see?” the pinky was shown in an unpleasant light – distorted and a tad bit painful to stare.

“What?”

“Distortion of mana,” he returned, “-there’s so much you can do before the very strongest of the foundation is at its limits. Who am I to say so anyways, I’ve remained aloof since the very beginning. Not like my intervention at this stage will bring an end to the conflict,” he finished the drink and went up to Undrar, “-you were always a little awkward,” he patted her hair, “-and he’s ignored you when you lived in the mortal realm. Only coming to the rescue when he needed something. The man’s unnaturally selfish, he uses people and throws them aside. You knew that, didn’t you?” he smiled, “-Undrar, protect what is precious to you, fight for it, and only then when the storms settle, do you exhale. Until then, bite and grin, endure.”

“Am I in the wrong?”

“No,” he caressed her cheeks, “-no one is wrong. Such concept doesn’t apply to you, people of higher rank,” he winked, ‘-such the precise reason why I can’t stand what’s become of the heavens. They’ve tainted the tapestry for the simple reason of gaining power. What a joke, a very saddening joke. No matter, long as I have tea and a place to rest my eternal trouble, I’ll be fine. My heir, you carry a hefty burden, don’t let the weight crush your intention – you children must fight and figure out what’s best for everyone. That is your curse,’ and so, lord Death disappeared – leaving only the teacup on her desk.

*Whistle,* a common melody snuck into the chambers, “-Undrar?” Jessica stopped suddenly, “-where’s Lord Death?”

“He disappeared,” she threw a pleasant smile, “-the same melody Staxius hummed when we first approached the village.”

Her expression seemed a little disappointed, “-I brew more… what a waste.”

“Don’t say that,” she gestured, “-come, let’s have a drink instead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Jessica, are we not friends?”

“Right, friends,” she pulled out her tongue and sat for a friendly chat.

The open friendly environment didn’t once match the woeful weather. The night was long, very long. Igna stared deeply into the ceiling, a few seconds passed since Undrar left, ‘-this pressure,’ he closed his eyes, ‘-can I carry it forward?’

“Pops, you good?” warm fingers grabbed his cold hands, “-you look troubled.”

“I am,” returned an anxious response, “-well, it is what it is,” he sighed, ‘-I must face forward. Can’t be bothered with fragments of my past. I need to strive towards our goal.’

They opened the side entrance to a cross-armed Ophelia, “-about time,” she tapped her fingers.

“Pops, who’s that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “-Gophy’s sister?”

“Aunt Gophy’s sister?” she looked forward. And so, the night eventually reached its end. Igna found himself planning for departure. Vengeance and Cruse’s combined efforts allowed Raven to set their influence in Istra, thus gaining a foothold.

A new morning rose a week or so later, the date displayed 15th of September. Light from the bright blue sky shakily shone through swayed curtains, they landed warmly on his visage. ‘-Another morning,’ he sat upright, stretched his shoulders, and reached for his counter, there, taking the cigarette and lighter, set about ambling towards the door. A newspaper was slid under, the headline read halfly, “-Dear Boss Kill-”

‘I forgot about the whole killer thing,’ he grabbed the paper, threw it onto the bed, and headed for the bathroom for the morning routine. The custom-made suit waited patiently on his bed, ironed and ready to be worn. Purrs escaped, “-master, the suits’ ready.”

“Always here to help,” he dawned the outfit, “-come,” he extended his hand, she swapped forms and disappeared into his shadow. He toddled, a newspaper under the arm and cigarette in hand. Lunch was served, and many workers waited for their turn.

“How’s it going, doc?” hailed a few.

“Good,” he answered, “-how’s the recovery?”

“Hurricane did a lot of damage. Still, a lot of work remaining. Getting there though.”

“Hey doc, thanks for healing my daughter. She’s feeling much better.”

“Don’t mention it,” he exited the cottage, its sign torn from the prior gusts. Long the intriguing allies, the sound of death permeated. Gang activity was yet present. “-GIVE US YOUR MONEY!” cried a distant howl. He paid no heed and continued.

Hospice was in view at last. The line of patients grew over the days. With money accumulated from the locals and donated by gangs, the hospice expanded two houses down. The wounded were no longer forced outside. A team of masked medics tended to all of their wounds – puppets of the Shadows healing the living.

“Hey, doc!”

“Hey Tommy, off to work?”

“Yeah, we got a new boss coming in today.”

“Good, have fun,” the little boy ran off into the distance. The lock clicked, and he climbed to the first floor, ‘-my office’s open?’ he pushed and saw familiar faces, “-Mirai and Nikki. How did you get in?”

“I had a spare key,” added Nikki.

“Right,” Igna casually laid the newspaper and sat, “-Nikki, how do you fair?”

“Good,” she nodded, “-I feel okay.”

“Mirai, about your father…”

“It’s fine,” he lowered his head, “-father wasn’t a good person. I’m glad things are changing. Feels like I’m free, I don’t know how to voice my excitement.”

“Good, what about you, Nikki, how do you feel?”

“I’m sorry,” she bowed, “-I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, Doc. I know I’m not worth the effort, then again, I have to say thank you.”

“Good seems like you two are closer than ever.”

“Yes,” they smiled, “-we plan on living in together. I took a job with Raven, I hope they treat us well”

“So did I,” added Nikki, “-they seem like good people. I think Istra will be a better place from now,” they checked the clock, “-we should leave, it’s getting late. Don’t want to cause more problems. Thank you, doc, thank you for everything.”

Silence. He held the paper, “-Dear Boss Killer, Solved?”

“Thoas Duquant found dead and as the head of a cult. Per testimonials from Dania and Sunta, the folies of Thoas Duquant have been shown to light. The mayor has irrefutable ties to the Cult of Yigner, an infamous name uttered to the demise of a few reporters. Alongside the exposure of Thaos’ involvement with the cult, fingers have been pointed at the public office. Many corruptions have since come to light. It is undeniable the disparity between the town and the slums has risen crime. To what extent did the ECA help in the matter or what became of the man who found the crime, Odgar Codd, and why did he refuse any interviews on the subject? Such matters remain a clouded mystery to the public. The advent of a serial killer must have frightened the population, so one would correctly assume; however, in an unprecedented case, the DBK is viewed by some as a hero. A man who brought light using darkness on the terrors spread by Thoas Duquant. It is safe to say the DBK will forever remain a mystery tied to Istra’s growth,” he laid the paper and puffed, ‘-the mystery comes to a close. My job in Istra is done. Time to return home, there’s something I need to do before leaving Orin. It might be the last time I spend here – the last time I see so many familiar faces. My family, my mother, my cousins… they’ll all disappear, all because of gods trying to attain powers beyond their capabilities.’

*Knock, knock,* “-Enter.”

“Master,” an out-of-breath Kul gasped, “-we need to leave, now.”

“Excuse me?”

“Master, it’s about the Duquant… the lady’s dead.”

.....

“Excuse you?” he shot up, “-let’s go,” he opened the window and leaped, “-how did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” they arrived at her estate to be hit by a burst of godly mana, “-we were scheduled for a meeting, seems like someone else beat us to the punch.”

‘This mana,’ he gritted, “-Lucifer.”