The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 966: The New World

“If it’s not terribly inconvenient, my children would like to get settled somewhere. Care for a suggestion?”

“Lord Artanos, you surely know much of the world already. Even still, if my opinion is to be considered, why not settle far east, past the nation of Alphia, over the great deep blue sea lays a land of untouched treasure. The new continent, a name yet to be officialized by the Wracia Empire. The land is vast and resources on ‘first-come-first-served,’ principle.”

“My, but the continent is so far from civilization. Am I to stand silently as my children are left ignored by the world?”

“Far the clockwork machines are concerned, a novelty is best presented on an unblemished plate.”

“It would seem my lord Igna, you sure are one hard nut to crack. I shall take the advice by heart. Expect great things from my children, ‘twould be awful, terribly awful if my children get so very anxious. Till we meet again, lord Igna.”

“Fare thee well,” he replied, the room appeased. Aceline’s fire burnt amiably unlike Igna’s inner fire. A flame of hatred burnt, ‘-insolent bastard,’ he clenched, ‘-has the audacity to speak to me as if we were equal. Said arrival disrupted the flow of thought – a sense of cluelessness settled, Igna held himself propped against the glass window. Aceline’s charred remains were a reminder of reality, ‘-why did I get so angry?’ he breathed, meticulously calming his inner rage; a fireman’s arduous battle against his flaming heart. A single drop of sweat fell, the silent crash brought a familiar sensation.

“Majesty,” a mild tap broke a loss of time.

.....

“Pardon,” he excused himself, “-is something the matter?”

The hesitant worker shyly pointed, “-Aceline’s ashes have been collected in an urn. We took the liberty of placing her remains on the counter.”

“My, I must have lost track of time,” a glance told 02:30, ‘-late.’

The same boy hurried behind the very same counter. There, he reached under a labyrinth of carton boxes – digging deep by the flinch and strained expression, “-here,” he exclaimed victoriously, “-a briefcase,” the dusty yet study silvery-colored case resounded against the counter’s metallic surface, “-a perfect match for Aceline’s urn.”

“I appreciate the gesture, thank you very much,” thus, Aceline’s funeral came to pass. Not the same could be said about the king, for throughout the week, things grew suspiciously troublesome.

*Knock, knock,* “-enter,” returned the same, unfazed voice. éclair scurried inside, closing the door behind – date had skipped, “-majesty, there’s an extensive military program General Minerva wishes to put in action. I’ve sent a notice a few days before, didn’t want to get chewed out again,” a feeling of satisfaction laid upon éclair’s features. Alas, on setting sight upon the desk, as he had come to know, a diligently hardworking king; satisfaction turned horror, “-Majesty?” he tiptoed and scanned, no luck, ‘-he’s gone?’ éclair advanced further to the large desk, ‘-remnants of policies and reports across the kingdom. Seems files were piled on for a few days. Did no one notice the monarch’s disappearance?’ amidst the pile of files, a hand-written note, calligraphic and beautiful was kept just at eye-level. Hidden in plain sight whereby only éclair and his interface would notice. The small rectangular note unfolded into four greater rectangles;

Dear éclair,

I know this is very sudden and irresponsible. The past few days after Aceline’s death have been hard. I can’t concentrate, it’s too hard a burden to bear. Day in and day out, the news, the media, my social feed, everyone speaks of her. I’m glad she made such an impact in death as was done in life. Yet, I feel myself draining after each mention I see. It’s painful, truly painful. Therefore, I leave you with this, my dear prime minister, I shall be taking a trip to the new continent. My sister can explain in greater detail, she’ll step in as my regent until the end of June, which comes to a few weeks, no greater than three. I wouldn’t worry much. Hidros’ government’s full of talents. Lady Ela and Eira should suffice. I do hope the kingdom continues its path to prosperity for we’ve reached stability a few months back. Until I return.

Sincerely, Igna Haggard.

‘I need answers,’ just as he was to crumble the paper, a thick door opened. A glimmer of light snuck within the room, silvery hair flowed, “-Majesty,” voiced éclair.

“I appreciate the title of regent, majesty’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” returned a snarly Eira. She tapped her fingers and telepathically sought and brought files onto a little ice-golem, “-you seem vexed,” she narrowed, “-is the note, from my brother, yes?”

“You do have his foresight, suppose it runs in the blood. Tell me, lady Eira, at risk of sounding rude – what is the meaning of this?” more specifically, ‘My sister can explain in greater detail’. Eira waited, her unsullied righteous gaze scanned line to line, “-I see. He’s off on an escapade,” the golem’s flat palms tightly gripped important files. “-You see, éclair, Igna has a habit of leaving without notice. We should be grateful he said anything. Here, follow me, I’ll explain on the way,” the solemn room locked silently, “-Artanos, the god of knowledge,” she elaborated, “-any ideas?”

“Read about it,” he replied.

“Good, I’ll surmise.” Ministry of Internal and External affairs wrote in black on bronze, and Eira’s main offices rose in the distance. Greater expansions since the days of old.

“Understand?” she finished her story at the start of her department’s pathway.

“Artanos visited our king, I get the gist. Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Don’t ask questions we know the answer to. Enough,” she stepped forward, “-you’ll work with me today, revise Minerva’s request, and send the budget to Ela. We’ll move forward if she approves.”

Those very words brought a frown on éclair, “-if she approves? Right, as if she’ll spare us money.”

“Quite a mouth.”

“Lady Ela, why are you here?” shuddered the prime minister.

“I was by lady Eira. Suppose I’m not welcomed,” she narrowed, “-I’m the stingy minister, aren’t I?”

“Ignore him,” said Eira, “-we have work to do,” she slowed her step and speech, “-Ela, do realize, the budget cuts are so harsh it makes the department gasp. Be tactful, we needn’t another heart attack.”

“Fat businessmen are easy prey – the oaf went into shock when I denounced his trafficking before the Department of Justice. Not my fault he was weak of heart,” she rolled her eyes, “-pathetic.”

“Yes, yes, we know the vendetta against the chubby old man. Stop projecting,” their chatter faded, and a gust blew – carrying leaves and pebbles. Ladies in dress forcefully threw their hands downwards so as to not be exposed, a straw hat was spotted in the way distance.

‘I know that hat,’ éclair traced the trajectory to a lady.

“Lady Katherine’s back,” commented a passing Midne, “-have fun with Eia and Eira, two pretty flowers on each arm.”

“Shut up,” he muffled, ‘-flowers, more like vipers.’

A phrase meandered over her shoulders, “-lady Katherine,” whispered a timid attendant, “-lady Katherine,” yet again, the words fell on deaf ears.

“My hat,” she muttered voicelessly. The frame was picturesque. Katherine stood akin to an angel descended from the heavens, her golden locks, fair skin, and slender frame. If one were to place a description on what the heavens proudly withheld, Katherine’s beauty would surely suffice.

“Beautiful,” muttered the shy attendant.

“Hello,” she turned, “-Were you waiting long?”

“My lady, you looked so distressed a minute ago, did I cause an affront?”

“No my dear,” she replied warmly, “-you did no such thing. I know the palace life is tedious at times. Keep up the work, Midne’s a slave driver, I know, but still, keep strong.”

“About that, lady Katherine,” she pressed her palms, took a few minutes, and gathered strength, “-lady Midne told me to become your personal assistant,” all in one exhale. The fleshy color turned bright red. Katherine smiled, “-my dear, don’t be so uptight. I’m here to help, honest.”

“Lady Katherine,” she looked afar towards the distant array of municipal departments, “-a strange fellow approaches.”

“Lady Katherine,” gasped a gardener, “-your hat,” he presented the object, “-I found it stuck to one of my trees.”

“I see,” her melancholic mien swayed, “-my straw hat,” she pressed it against her heart, “-a gift.”

“Please, my lady, we should head to your bedchambers.”

Katherine’s locks were untied to flood her shoulders. She squarely staired a mirror propped up on a lavishly decorated vanity table. Each brush of her hair begot a silent gaze from herself, ‘-I auditioned for Auder, I hope it goes well,’ strangely, on her straightening her hair, a small note caught her attention. A folded note prefaced by black ink in a stylish calligraphie. “To my dearest,” she said aloud, unfolding the note.

Dear Katherine,

I know the months have been hard. You’ve auditioned for various modeling agencies. No doubt your figure and beauty are cause for praise – I can certainly understand why modeling agencies would be hesitant in employing a royal as a model. The job is not renowned for its tact and well-treatment. It’s flashy and best and shameful at worse. I was never a man to stand in one’s desire for growth. Take my word to heart, I’m proud. No matter what comes, I’ll always stand by your choice, Katherine; not by promise nor vow, simply, I want to. Since Aceline’s passing, matters haven’t been so great, I often find myself wondering what I should do, what I should accomplish. No doubt there is a myriad of issues that requires my attention. Sadly, I’m in no shape to lead, one must know to retreat and take in the greater picture. My apologies for the guerrillaesque ambush. By the time this note reaches, I’ve had already landed in the new world. I shall be home very soon. Auder’s known for its high standards, you made a good choice this time. I’ll wait patiently for the coming success, Katherine. Take care, I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely, yours truly

Igna Haggard.

‘Notes,’ a breath of virgin air washed the face anew. The loud helicopter chops rose in the distance, “-until we meet, majesty.”

Land beyond the eyes could see, irregular peaks in the far distance painted in blueish gray, a rush of green carrying from right to left as one moves closer to the midground where farmlands add a hint of color, namely; yellow. The paths, rocky and subject to transport, horses and carriages. ‘-Good thing Raven invested in land,’ he turned, swapping scenery from vast unknown to a village, “-Caro’s Village,” read sign written in Wracian letters. Residents were unfazed by the helicopters.

“Ahoy,” said an old gentleman tending the fields, “-you must be with crows?” he smiled with little teeth remaining.

“Ahoy,” returned Igna, “-Ravens,” he said, “-do you know the way to Carne manor?”

“Ah,” he clasped his dirt-filled hands, “-go on straight into the village, when you see a brothel pull a hard left then carry on into the forest. Should see a logger’s cabin, pick the road right and slowly climb the hills. Should arrive at Carne manor. The usual road’s closed – some fucker blocked the passage, newbie woodcutters I tell you.”

“I appreciate the help, thank you ol’ timer.”

“They call me Jimmy. Holler if you need anything,” he propped the fork and went on into the field.

‘That’s the brothel,’ he slowed to a stop and glanced right – a horde of miners entered town. Many yelled loudly, some laughed and others winked at passing dames. He ignored the bunch and turned left – workers winked and whispered, “-come, I’ll give you a good time.”

‘Population’s predominantly of fair color, must be colonists from Wracia.’

The old man stopped amidst his work, “-ah shit, I forgot to tell him about bandits.”

‘Log cabin,’ he rose his gaze, “-there it is.” Ruffians leaped from bushes, “-put your hands up.”

“My,” he stopped, “-I see the choice of outfit’s rather controversial.”

“Are you mocking us?” they narrowed, “-we’re gentlemen robbers.”

“Wearing a suit,” he unholstered Tharis and shot one, “-doesn’t make you a gentleman. Now,” he resumed, “-if you wish to live, get out of my way.”

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