The Wielder of Death Magic

A dazzling white light stopped her lamentation, momentarily; it blinded her. The sage looked with a hint of skepticism; he had drawn his staff in case of an attack. Caution over regret, an idea he lived by since the days as a youth. “No need to threat,” a familiar voice spoke through. Her gloominess changed to subtly anxious – that voice sent shivers down her back. Time had been gone for so long, her memories betrayed her. She had forgotten how her partner looked let alone how he sounded. Normally, her memories would have been perfect; sadly, the transformation put a fair share of strain on her psyche. “It c-can’t b-be,” she mumbled, a figure walked out as if he had conquered the world.

At that moment, everything felt slow and unmoving, time stopped. Her heart made laps, the sage let a little grin slip. The nobles who usually sat atop, where nowhere to be found. He had returned at last, the man she called fiancé and the man who made her realize how faulty her line of thinking was. “Greetings your majesty,” he bowed, the portal vanished. Prophecy returned to her master; Avon had disappeared long before they arrived. Fenrir stood, her size put the throne room to shame, out of that human-sized portal, a beast twice If not more walked out. “Welc-,” before she could speak, Staxius held his index finger to his mouth. It signaled her to remain quiet, that gesture would normally have gotten him kicked out for disrespect. Not this time, he had made his place in Arda, though the Ardanian’s didn’t know, the nobles and higher reaching individuals knew. “Master sage,” he quickly pointed and asked his master to come. “Would you kindly summon a portal, we need to take those girls to the hospital as soon as possible,” he pointed up, up Fenrir’s body. They didn’t notice it until now, her white fur hid them perfectly. “Excuse me, I’ll get on it right away,” with a swift upwards flick of the wrist, a greenish portal appeared. Staxius escorted the injured.

“Now tis a quandary mine own student, the hospital has been utterly filled with patients. We’ve run out of healing potions let alone magical scrolls; they’re being treated using normal medicine.” A quick conversation with the director revealed worrisome information. If the pace kept up and the inflow of patients didn’t decrease, space would become a dream for it had been jammed packed in the first few minutes. “Fenrir,” they stood outside, the building was located on the second floor. “-change back into human size, we need to figure something out.” The staffs were out of options, medical mages were brought in but that didn’t help the situation in the least.

People gravely injured themselves for their lack of respect for one another. They did more hurt than the monsters could. Who would blame them, in this godforsaken land, everyone is out for themselves and none can change that truth. Not even the noble heroes and gods could overturn that truth; survival of the fittest has and will always be the thing that unifies the world. “Master sage, I’m sorry to ask you a thing.” He took a quick pause, an idea popped inside his head. “-do you have low-tier blank scrolls?” he asked, the tone felt serious and concerned. “Personally, I don’t, but the library does have them in stock.” He replied intrigued. “Could you please get a hold of them for me? And some magical ink as well.” The great white building stood behind him. It had stairs that led to four gigantic and curly pillars in the front and two on both sides. In total, there were eight of said pillars. The latter helped to support the structure as well as provide a bit of esthetics.

Within, just before one entered the hospice, there laid a vast and empty vacant space. Covered with white tiles, said spot was large enough to accommodate two medium-sized houses. It held true that said building was large in nature, however, it had to be that way for non-humans varied in shapes and sizes. It had to be big enough to accommodate even the tallest and widest being known to them. Nevertheless, on that day, that vacant spot had been filled with patients. Entering the hospice turned into a quest not even the rich and privileged could buy their way into. While all the moans, groans, and yelps echoed around the vicinity, the sage fixed his gaze upon he who had asked something peculiar. “May I inquire about your intention with said items?” he asked with his eyebrows slightly lifted.

“Time isn’t for explanations; we have to accommodate the arriving injured. The staff inside are already drained, the mages are out of mana and we’re running out of time -see for yourself,” he pointed to a young boy who bled to death before his eyes, the white stairs turned into a small waterfall for the blood. The parents were just as bad as the young one, tough was that sight on the old man. “Alright, I shall get to it right away,” he quickly contacted one of the librarians and made sure that the items were brought hastily. “Another thing, is there any way we can open a temporary first-aid tent?” Staxius asked once more, “I think we can take the two closest buildings, they’re vacant.” He pointed in front, ‘how does he know so much about Arda,’ Staxius was impressed about the extent of his knowledge concerning the kingdom. “Alright, bring the supplies to the first house, I shall join you momentarily,” Staxius said while the sage vanished; he had his job to do.

.....

Staxius ran inside the hospice, though not trained in the arts of treating a person. He quickly gained the trust of the people in charge. With sheer determination and intent of saving lives, the hospice got behind him. Patients were separated into three groups, green, yellow and red. Green from being least injured to red being on the verge of death. Said system had already been put in place but wasn’t that well organized. The first mansion became temporary for the green-labeled patients, the second for yellow. Third, the hospital cleared out and took in red patients only. A few minutes went by, the once overcrowded entrance cleared out. A team of volunteers began to help whoever was hurt. Mages used teleportation magic to escort people who were at death’s door.

The supplies arrived, Staxius worked tirelessly. Minutes turned to seconds, he wrote healing scrolls of rare quality. Turning low-tier common scrolls into rare spells was a feat deserving praise and applause. However, he didn’t care, the scrolls quickly got distributed through the first and second house – it healed most. Item qualities held six ranks in total: common, uncommon, rare, epic, legendary and relic. From common to rare held its merits. The day carried on in without any more trouble, the pace changed from chaotic to normal. Together with the people, they helped many lives that day. The doctors were praised highly, Staxius chose to remain in the dark, it was for the better. An unknown entity helping by turning common into rare scrolls was a lie not even a child would swallow. Nighttime came by, a massive portal blocked the entrance down below. Graves were dug, bodies were respectfully sent off.

Fenrir helped in transporting the injured. Godly wolf became her nickname, the one who saved the day for many. The last of the injured left, no more scrolls were required. “Finally,” he let a sigh of relief; his hand shook violently. The strain of writing for so long and at such speed had emptied his stamina. ‘Clarity...,’ alone in that dark room, he engrossed himself so passionately that he opened the fabled door. The door to Clarity, a place only a few chosen ones were allowed. The whispers from the past legends who reached that dimension still lingered in his mind. They were mostly unintelligible, however, it felt as if they encouraged him.

*Click,* the door opened. Expecting light to blind him, he held up his hands. “Staxius,” nothing of that sort happened, a figure holding a candle spoke instead. “-are you still alive in there?” the voice felt feminine and dignified. “Xula?” he mumbled; the strain still hadn’t fully left. “You’re alive, what a relief,” she sounded sarcastic. “Did you wish otherwise?” from leaning back, he inclined forward and rested his elbows on the scroll filled table. *Click,* the light turned on,” color me surprised, Arda does, in fact, have electricity.” He chuckled, Xula’s greenish hair twinkled. “Has’t the gods hath left the door to Elysium opened, for one quite quaint as a goddess herself, hast did step through mine own heart,” he said in a jestful manner. “Stop it with your foolishness,” she walked inside. He meant part of the words he said but chose to leave it be. “Isn’t it a bit inappropriate for royalty to walk about so late at night?” he asked, elbows still resting. “Tis my kingdom, I shall do what I please,” her walk continued, the candle still lit despite lights being turned on. “No arguments from me, your majesty,” he fired back, she had a point.

Each step she took felt menacing, her face changed from worried to angry. The eyes turned red, he sensed it. She had been angry for him leaving for all this time. “Staxius Haggard,” she stopped, “- yes your majesty,” he stood up and stared. “Do you have a complaint you wish to voice?” he asked, he tried to fight her cold-heartedness with his own. “Matter of fact, I do,” she went around the table and stood inches away from him. “-you’ve been gone for so long,” her shoulders relaxed, “you can’t begin to imagine how much strain the apparition of monsters has put on me,” her eyes closed, the months of pressure cracked. “A job well done,” he hugged her tightly. The immense air of suffocation lifted, in his arms, she relaxed, all her worries turned to dust. They felt firm and strong, his touch gentle as a feather and voice as mesmerizing as an opera, Xula smiled. “We still have to get engaged, don’t we?” after waiting a few minutes, he whispered gently. “Soon, we’ll do it soon,” her voice felt feeble and filled with laziness. “No matter, you’ve done an awesome job, Xula. I’m proud to be your partner,” he gently caressed her head till she fell asleep in his arms.

‘You shouldn’t let your guard down even around me.’ He chuckled, ‘but it’s no worries; you’re starting to grow on me, Xula. You’re definitely changing me for the better,’ he smiled gently. In the cover of night, with a fake starry lit sky above them, Staxius carried her to her castle. The whispers, gentle breeze, soothing temperature, and her breathing on his back – this was what he dreamt peace would be like. A place to call home, someone to call special and the strength to protect it all; it had been his drive since the beginning.