The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1049: “Are you my son?”

“...”

“Silence is telling. Visitor, are you or are you not my son?”

“What good would it bring if I was?”

“So you’re not my son?”

“I haven’t said no either. Great God Grostian, before I answer, I would like to know more about how the realm died, how it fell, and what did you do to acquire the title of Great God as a Titan.”

“You’re curious,” he smiled, “-let’s sit.” A fresh breeze whelmed from the adjacent lake; its reflection caught them many times. The water surface gently moved in tiny ant-sized waves. The scene was set, the Great God, very much old and somewhat exhausted, pushed his broad shoulders against the tree and relaxed. The legs eased for he sat rather openly. The muscles told of their wear, the clothes bore battle scars, the time spent in the workshop that is.”

“Allow me to preface the narration with a warning, most of my retelling will follow my logic and remembrance. Events may or may not be in order. When time must be considered, we’re none the wiser for it’s a relative prospect. Kronos’ power is strange and ultimately, one of the foundations governing existence I suppose,” he paused, knocked his head back, and shut his eyes, they reopened with an empty stare for they saw not the present, but rather, the past. “I came into the greater scheme of existence from nothing I suppose. I was branded with a strong symbol, my parents I don’t know, did they live or did they die, I searched, but no answer. What I remember is this, I woke up one day in a desert during a massive sandstorm. I walked for I knew what had happened, I came with memories of many things, mainly the usage of my abilities and how everything came to pass. I persevered through the storm and arrived at a battlefield. It was disgusting – many entities fought and lost – races, stranger beings, entities, everything laid in that sandstorm, that desert. No one’s ever known of such a place, it was strange, it was as if someone or something had performed Koduku 1but on a large scale. It was the trial for life, the battle for deliverance. I was never meant to be, I came into being from nothing, and the latter forever seared my soul. After, I set on a quest to find my parents. I now know the quest was for naught. I wasn’t born from a union, rather, I was born from the collective emotions of the battlefield – I was the product of the Koduku, an entity who fought and survived everything. My search for the inexistent parents led me to cross multiple domains until I eventually stumbled onto a growing land, Kronos’ realm. Draebala became a constant place I’d visit. In those times, there was nothing to be had, the Titan rules with iron fists and killed those unwilling to follow their lead. The gods came about after titan intermingled with other races they stole from independent realms. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I continued floating from realm to realm, crossing domains in search of answers, I never found what I needed. I found other things, met strange beings, lived different lives in their land, learned the customs, and followed what tradition was made. I was a traveler, not yet a God; never knew the meaning. I gained a reputation for when I returned, many titans – the monarch of their own estates and land, greeted my travels with envy and want for souvenirs. They wanted me to bring items, and what they desired most was, you guess? Entities. I agreed, not knowing any better. By the way, the question about my powers must have sparked the intrigue a few times, I’ve yet to speak on that. I’m strong, I’m powerful, no one can rival the abilities I’ve locked for millenniums. Why was I the only one allowed to travel? Simple, others couldn’t handle the strain of going from place to place, it was akin to tearing oneself and rebuilding said self each time one traveled. Of course, some titans were crossed when I unknowingly entered their playground – they vowed violence and swore by their intent. I had no mind for prolonged suffering, much of my battles ended in two or three moves. Either imploding their core or swallowing their soul, are two very effective ways of sending a message. My exploits were well known, so much that some titans would pay me to visit other titans. Well, in those scenarios, someone did lose their standing. It didn’t affect me, so, I spent on traveling as I would. As time passed, I became old, the abundant land to explore grew odd to me, and I began losing interest. Draebala’s climate swapped – the tension was ablaze around the newly crowned capital. I took my chances and refused alliances with the Titans. My last quest was simple, to find and inhabit a small realm where I can watch as eternity evolves. Ended quickly and not without some turbulence. The reason for the climate in Draebala was the discovery of a hidden faction; the Demons as is openly known now. They consisted of titans and gods who were against the current titans. One of said demons stumbled into a realm I had set for conquest ages prior. She was dark-haired, had a brown complexion, and was an heiress to magnificent horns. Her wings were dark and sharp, and so were her daggerlike canines. Let me say, my words can’t describe how fierce she was in person, she was out of control. Our first meeting, if you can call it that, ended with us dishing out harsh punches at one another. My, those days were the best,” he grinned, “-she captured my attention by how she’d lived her life. Not much was known of her past – needless to say, I have speculation it was spent in training for the Demonic faction. One clarification, the demons of today are nothing like what they were – the demon was but a name of a faction, not a race like it is now, and her, she was a titan or goddess grouped under the title for convenience. We fell in love, I founded my realm,” he stretched his arms, “-the place we reside in today. Our bond gave birth to Alfred, she named him and I watched. I was happy, well, happiness which would last a few days – Alfred’s birth came at the cost of my lover. He eradicated much of what was here and present – everything he touched decayed, everything, there was much I could do but forsake the babe. So, to ensure his safety, I abandoned the babe under a realm considered Evil for its time. He was to live his life under the Blood Moon in the forest of Iye, the one place where darkness had amble life to breathe. After no more incidents came and I found myself rebuilding half of the realm my son destroyed. Time passed, and they know how much time went – I remained the same person and eventually fell in love with another woman. A maiden of the Heavens, Raftal, the Goddess of Serenity. Here my knowledge of the others grows cloudy. As I spent most of my life following Alfred, I never knew what happened with the other gods. What I know for certain is the name of Alfred, the Cursed King, was to be feared by most. My title of Titan eventually changed to Great God, seeing that I was feared by many who knew my real identity. They knew they couldn’t and so attached God with my title and called it a day, they won, and later generations would remember me as a god, not a Titan. The son I had abandoned returned with a vengeance, I half expected him to die in my sleep. Raftal and I had another son, he was more smart than strong – he had an ability to create matter from naught, the same as creation but restricted to his world. He came to be known as Artanos, the God of Knowledge. He was fearsome to those below, however, affectionate and loving towards his mother and I. We were a happy family, I bestowed much of my powers onto him, many things I acquired in my travels, and even granted him the symbol of the Craftsman. Deep down, even when I looked at Artanos with a fatherly warmth, my heart couldn’t shed the feeling of rejection, I betrayed myself and my wife, I was destined to carry that weight. In my frantic thoughts, I set about to seek Destiny, they told me that my son was alive – we would meet one day. I strengthened my resolve and returned home... alas, what I found were death and destruction. The war between gods and titans escaped into my world, Raftal was killed because she loved me... or so were the stories. Artanos fought and lost, he watched as everything we loved was destroyed. I arrived too late to rescue what remained... the battle was fast but the destruction vast. I found myself at the world’s core, fixing what could be fostered... then, it happened, I sensed him, the Cursed King. He appeared in my shadow and had a look of complete despair – hatred filled his gaze, and with the nauseating surge of power, I knew what he wanted, my life. He looked at him, no words would calm him – thus, I was set to rectify what I brought into existence. We fought for days, he kept on getting stronger – calling forth angels from the heavens and tearing their wings for power, it was gruesome and cruel, I had never seen anything of the like, not even from the Titans whose persona was on being cruel. He devoured and soon, I found myself calling on powers I thought I had... due to inactivity, they remained locked and I lost,” he undid a few buttons and showed a massive scar running across the chest, “-I died, he won and vanished without another word said. By order of the Hierarchy, the injury was temporary... Artanos didn’t see and left with a deep underlying hatred. Raftal died by Alfred’s hand. I couldn’t do anything... there was nothing for me, both of my sons thought I died, thus, I decided to cultivate remnants of the world. Destiny’s word implied more... thus, I kept on keeping the world alive. Many entities were born from my world; my offspring. Alfred took a part of me when we fought, he took my innate ability to restrain myself and my overwhelming power. I channeled the overflow into creating others... I guess I wanted to quell my solitude with more children. They came to life, spend their days, and grew until maturity. We bid farewell and they left, I don’t know how many have gone, they never visit. Perhaps some have died, and perhaps others are the ruler of their world. Engratse, the god of Alchemy, was one of the more devious children I created. He held an air of mischievousness... always demanding that I hand over the symbol of Notig,” he exhaled, “-I don’t know much after, Engraste left the world recently with the promise to deliver souls for the world’s rebirth. I agreed and have done so for centuries now. You,” he blinked, “-visitor, are you, my son?”

.....

Purple flashes sparked, Igna’s appearances changed to one half-demon and half-nightwalker, Alfred’s aura surged with Igna knocking said power into control through his own. A crack echoed, the half-vampiric side vanished, Alfred’s demonic features flourished menacingly, “-greetings, father.”

“Alfred,” he returned, “-I knew it was you, I knew the moment you walked.”

“Father,” the demonic features ripped into Igna’s normal bicolor stare, “-I forgive you.”

‘Alfred?’ Igna looked around but saw nothing, ‘-where is he?’ he scanned to no avail, ‘-did he?’

“Alfred,” the Great God mumbled, “-I’m sorry about what happened. It was my fault, I should have taken responsibility,” he looked at Igna and smiled, “-my son is gone,” he added, “-I got to say what I wanted and he listened. We reached understanding at last,” a sigh of relief escaped, “-I’m free.”

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