The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 982: Council of toddlers

“éclair, help me!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Igna’s in danger, there’s no moment to talk.”

“But please, I don’t know who you are?”

“The name’s Syhton, I thought you’d... never mind, we need to go right away.”

Doors opened. The prime minister’s office felt a little out of place, considering there was less traffic to said area compared to the others. In more ways than one, the secluded sight reminisced upon that one, always abandoned house. It’s there, it’s present; some have acknowledged the existence, and others, consciously avoided even its shadow. A summary of events followed – two additions joined the table; Eira and her aid.

“Nothing can be done,” added éclair solemnly, “-Syhton, traveling across realms, worlds, and the domain is one of the harder spells to activate. Lest the data is perfect, the chance of survival remains a resounding ninety-nine percent.”

.....

“So, we just leave Igna to the wolves?”

“No, not necessarily,” he dawned a heavy overcoat, “-lady Eira, a favor?”

“I’ll attend to the castle duties,” she said with a hint of dismay, “-fighting and I have long parted ways,” she added softly, “-you do understand, yes?”

Prime minister nodded at her confession, closed the door, and held a strange scroll. Location swapped for the coldness of the outside. Time read kindly after midnight – and yes, despite night having sprawled its fingers around the continent, the capital worked.

“A scroll of teleportation?”

“No,” he echoed, “-well, something like that.” A distant flash caught their attention, “-what was that?” she looked northward – a distant ray of invisible light, visible only through the medium of mana-sense, grasped at the stagnant realm.

“No use,” returned éclair, “-would seem, the master has returned.”

And thus, they flew through the night – passing buildings, roads, farmlands, meadows, and hills – dark outline as there was less to see, till the concentration point. The first light of the day, brought upon by the tiresome 05:32, carried the dew-filled plants and associated frost. She stared blankly. éclair blinked.

Soaked, injured, and possibly dead. King Igna, a prominent man shadowed by only his closest entourage, had his body kept upward. The head against a fallen log, the body laid bare and the severed hands dripping blood.

“So much,” said éclair, “-what happened?”

“Ambushed and taken by Artanos...”

A whiff froze the diminishing sense of warmth. A crack, “-who’s there?” fire éclair to a resounding nothing. Peerless sockets watched, “-a monster?” he narrowed – and indeed it growled. The tall figure, a tree-golem, passed the trees and into the open. He talled over the duo – watching through rectangular windows. It rose an arm but halted, ‘-stand down,’ muffled a saddened tone, ‘-stand down...’ he whispered, the Demonlord’s signet ring loomed.

“He leaves?”

“I suppose?” said éclair.

“Here,” commented Syhton, “-look over here,” she pointed at a blond-haired lady, “-it’s Katherine, look, it’s Katherine!”

“She’s alive?” coughed Eclair, “-but how?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Syhton, “-I guess she survived, or maybe the domain was smokes and mirrors?”

“I highly doubt it...”

July passed into August, “-Regency of lady Eira,” read a few news articles, “-the royal castle made an official statement pertaining to her ladyship’s regency. His Majesty, King Igna, king of Hidros and viscount of Glenda, has fallen terribly ill. Prime minister éclair stated the following, “-as our king’s muddles through the path of recovery; the established government shall make certain the kingdom is done right. Do understand why such news is best kept within the confines of the castle. Eyes on every corner and ears on every wall. King Igna shan’t be bested, and we will make sure Hidros strive for the betterment of her people,” Arcanum, lined by the nameless comments of inhabitants – read words of comfort. Criticism by those of lesser admiration found themselves alienated. Royal interest faded within the following weeks. Her ladyship’s excellent statesmanship has greatened Hidros’ goal of self-sustainability,” more words dove deeper than surface-level.

Draebala – ripped by the war, fell into a state of blood and gore. Children on their way to the local guild would often be ambushed by severed arms and legs. They’d but take a simple glance and followed – such laid the state of affairs. A world desensitized to the prospect of a painful death.

“Artanos, get out,” door buckled, “-stop being a baby.”

“Gophy...” the door caved, “-I’m sorry,” said the man head down upon his desk, “-I have the worse feeling...”

“It’s only your imagination,” she replied and entered, “-I bring snacks. Tell me, what’s troubling you this time?”

“I don’t know,” he straightened, “-after we left, a painful sensation grabbed my stomach. I don’t know... honestly.”

“Terrified of his entourage, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t be. I mean, the first incarnation was nightmare enough... the second one, my word, he’s the worse thing I’ve felt. Good thing the man known as Staxius perished before turning into what could have possibly ended our worlds. He screamed and my whole domain strained, all that without a body nor any mana to speak of.”

“God of Knowledge, worry not. We’ve won, there’s no greater truth than so. Igna’s lost, and there’s nothing he can do to return himself or his lover to reality. The fear of losing someone precious, the fact that people have died on his watch. Abandonment issues,” she said, “-we’ve gone far enough, I think the beast who slumbers has awakened. We never know what he’ll become...” memories played instances where Igna lost it, “-the way he moved and slipped through our defenses. He didn’t even wince at severing his hands... we should stay on guar-” a shockwave exploded, a dark mass moved so quickly they couldn’t react, “-THIS IS FOR MY MASTER!” soaked in blood and tore to pieces, “-DAMN TRAITOR!” cried Vengeance, “-you will suffer the consequences, high-tier goddess. Biting the hands that fed you,” he turned and slashed, “-he won’t stand for the affront. Good luck, Artanos, your army will fall sooner or later, and if the Titans don’t win, we’ll claim Draebala just to spite thee,” the weapon vanished into dust.

“Holy mother,” Gophy cringed in pain. A blade ran through her stomach and into the wall where she laid inches off the ground.

Artanos buried his face in his palms, “-my eyes,” he said, “-my eyes, I can’t see anything...”

“Retribution,” thundered a subconscious voice, “-the payment for cheating the devil is never-ending sufferance.”

Far from the gore-filled world of Draebala, rose a kind morning over the colder Rosespire. Weeks elapsed ever since that day. Palace carried whispers of their troubled king. éclair found himself interested in the empress’ thoughts and ideas. They shared many nights, as for Syhton, her time was mostly spent caring for Igna. On the day they reached the palace so many weeks back, her light blue pupils lowered for acceptance.

“Midne, let me care for him.”

“Why should I? The king’s our king. I have an army of maids and butlers readied to handle his every need. Why must I bother to answer thy quest for self-satisfaction? I heard the story; our king’s defeat came about by thy plea for aid. His accepting nature allowed for a travesty... answer me, goddess, why should I?”

“Because,” dropped on all-four, “-a goddess isn’t worth anything of great consequence. Especially since the goddess’ has been shunned. I wish I could have helped. I would have helped, but no. There was nothing to be done.”

“Which means that you’re worthless,” she narrowed, “-more on my point, why should I bother?”

“...”

“No fight?”

“Because,” she stood, “-if he were to be ambushed again, I’ll want to make sure my weapons are ready to impale whoever dared hurt my friend.”

“Friend,” she paused, “-such a hypocritical word. Fine, you may take care of him on one condition.”

“...”

“Chores ought to be done by us. You’ll stay by his side, and not just his, but also the fiancé, Katherine.”

Slow sinking reality of consequences tugged upon Syhton’s heart. “Katherine?” her room would always open slowly, wherein, the fiancé sat at her vanity table dressed in her sleeping gown. A melancholic leer plastered along with the mirror, by which time, a mild-mannered attendant would exclaim, “-her ladyship’s asked for no visitors.”

‘Kicked out again,’ she resumed towards the King’s chambers. Machines beeped, and healers and scholars flew from every corner of Hidros.

“I can’t heal an afflicted mind,” whispered a dashing young man of curly hair.

“You sure you can’t, Raphael?”

“No, I’ve tried... my spell or ability does not work. Pops bit the dust badly. Who knows what state of mind he’ll be in when he wakes up.” Footsteps faded, éclair passed a corridor to a slowed stop, “-eavesdropping isn’t a great look,” he side-glanced, “-until we speak.”

The days passed into August. Syhton’s daily routine of checking Katherine begot the same response. She carried her jolly way to his bed chambers. Didn’t take long for her godly charm to win over the palace flowers.

The door opened inward; a soft ray flashed upon the bed. The comfy sheets strained, and there, as her eyes followed the path of anarchy – a melancholic figure sat upright. He carried his bicolored pupils from the window to the door.

“Igna?”

“Syhton,” he returned emotionlessly, “-good morning.”

“Good morning?” the door shut, “-Igna, are you feeling well?”

“I suppose I am,” he returned, “-how long has it been?”

“A month?”

“I see,” he lowered his gaze, “-where’s Katherine?”

“Pardon?

“She’s alive, isn’t she?”

“Yes, why?”

Memories flooded his mind; that night returned vividly. Once Staxius and the others merged – the fanatical redden hue washed, clarity cleansed the mind anew. ‘-she was brought back to life... a clockwork replica, he staged the whole instance to break my mind. The real Katherine was kidnapped... they threw her onto the ground, and I couldn’t move. He destroyed her mind, everything she ever represented... I lose, again and again, I lose, unable to protect those precious to me. Gophy, Aceline... why, why me of all people. I wish nothing more than a place to spend my days happily. I wished for a time when the world grew to meritocracy, nothing. Artanos spoke true, I’m not worthy of being called our third incarnation. Perhaps Staxius... if I beg hard enough, I’m sure we can alter personas. I mean, it doesn’t matter who takes the helm, it doesn’t matter, does it?’ the cold expression drained, and he toppled into his side blankly.

A council of three sat upon round kindergarten stools. Colorful colors and childish drawings, “-my other selves...” the trio turned, “-hear me out, please...”

Staxius turned and smiled, “-no,” he flashed, “-I won’t return, no thank you. Listen, Igna, we intervened to control the powers, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Third incarnation,” narrowed Alfred, “-tis thy time to shine. When the day of reckoning arrives, we’ll welcome thee to our council of past wielders.”

“Though, I don’t think there will be a fourth incarnation,” fired Origin, “-the last thing we need is someone incompetent.”

“Igna, stop being a bitch!” exclaimed Staxius, “-pardon my French,” he smiled, “-listen here, buddy,” Igna found himself at the center of the circle of childish seats, “-Artanos got into thy mind. Look at us, we’re an evolution – a stepping stone for the next generation. Trust me,” a sinister look glazed his eyes, “-if either one of us wanted, we could take over the vessel and lay carnage. However, I’m not interested in returning, nor is Alfred. Your action and way of acting are refreshing. Not the cold-hearted murderer or a conniving mastermind, you’re just you, the man who took the title of Devil. The Devil isn’t exactly the representation of evil as so many religious books claim, the devil is someone wanting to rebel. We’re shadows of a bygone era. Heed my voice as one betrayed – learn and adapt. The battle has just begun.”

“Don’t worry so much,” said Alfred, “-just go back and live, fight, and win.”

“Okay,” he vanished, leaving Staxius to say, “-so much for my plan to return and take over.”

“Yeah, we all had the same idea,” shrugged Origin, “-to have control over the strongest entity to ever live. Seems’ the third incarnation doesn’t realize how rigid strong his mind truly is.”

“Yeah,” gulped Alfred,”-just look at the scale of this prison.”

“I need a nap,” sighed Staxius, “-see you, boys.”

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