The Wielder of Death Magic

‘Jimmy’s stuff,’ he wondered and watched through the window. The shop, his shop, was filled with dwarves sleeping on the floor. Many could have returned to Arda through the portal but decided to stay behind. ‘I better not disturb then,’ Void rested close by, the body wet from occasional mild-showers.

A moment’s peace, at last, the seat rocked back, Staxius laid and slept. Exhaustion rushed as a broken water tube; the pain from the All-seeing eye made the right-side numb. The face ached from the vampiric changes, the skin color – usually, a light brown turned paler with each passing day. Adete had remained quiet during the whole ordeal – the bat-girl remained within the front pocket. Despite her attitude, the sole reason he could rest peacefully was that she took on the pain. All the nightmares and terrors associated with the vampiric blood transferred over; her duty was to serve and protect.

*Beep, beep,* sun rose as if an instant went by. Morning arrived faster than usual; the sleep felt lacking. A truck parked itself next to the shop, a bunch of people dressed in working uniform knocked on the door furiously. A lady stood opposite the street with a cigar in mouth.

“Good morning,” Adete awoke,

“Morning to you too,” he stepped out the car.

“Alright people,” before the workers could be further riled up, he caught their attention. Each turned and glared, their eyes spoke volume – anger, and hate. “All the furniture is inside the shop,” time was around seven; most now waked. The posture straight, the voice menacing and aura cold; the would-be anger died out swiftly. Reluctantly, the men walked in and worked – the shop got emptied with the help from the dwarves as well.

.....

“Pleasant morning isn’t it?” with orders given, Staxius crossed over to check on Sprinkle’s leader.

“It would have been one if not for you,” she snarled; frustration from last night remained.

“A contract is a contract,” he stood beside and watched.

“I still can’t believe having lost my authority and power over a game of blackjack,” she chuckled, “-I’m angry but the mind games played were unbelievable.” Being belligerent would only ruin the relationship – people didn’t dub her the strategist without reason.

“People, in general, are easy to manipulate, emotions are the key to anything one desires,” he added without much thought, her head turned.

“Care to elaborate?” smoke from the cigar blended with the fog.

“Not really, it’s something rather complicated to explain and I assume that said knowledge is already known to a well-versed gambler,” the mornings cold and daunting; it could not be helped, the void-flame was conjured to keep him warm. A fire-ball hovered above the right hand. “Anyways Cake,” he turned and stared down, “-you don’t mind me calling you Cake?” he asked.

“You’re in charge, do as wished,” the reply quick and simple.

“About that, Cake, I’d like for Sprinkles to remain under your grasp and authority. Do whatever is needed – I’m but a Shadow, my place is in the background,” he added in a monotonous tone.

“A contract is a contract, I can’t possibly act as if nothing has changed – you’re the leader,” she didn’t want to back down.

“I understand,” he paused and thought, “-consider this, imagine one day you had to reign over a ragtag group of people who mistrust you. The smartest move would be to befriend the leader of said group and let that person rule over the rest,” the idea became clearer.

“I see, basically, I control the guards and you control me?” right on the money, the idea didn’t seem that bad.

“Yes, I’d rather relegate tasks that don’t require my attention to others,” she quickly understood what he meant. “-I know it must be hard to change from the one who rules to being ruled overnight but tis the deal.”

Her shoulder felt heavy, Staxius rested his hand reassuringly, “-Cake, I know that trust can’t be gain overnight. Therefore, I won’t ask anything. I may be your leader but rest assured that I shall never impose any restriction on thy autonomy and freedom. Consider me an ally more than a leader – I’ll leave the underground to you; seek me out if ever things get wild,” the hand lifted, he walked over to check on the workers.

‘I can’t say I’m happy with those words but that man named Shadow is sure a mystery,’ she smoked, the shop stood empty.

“That’s everything loaded, good job,” the truck drove away.

“Here,” Cake handed over something and drove off on a motorcycle.

‘How quaint, a phone,’ it went inside the pocket where a small piece of metal rested. A ring with the Ardanian crest, Xula had left it there.

“Let’s go, I’m HUNGRY,” not wanting to intrude earlier, Adete lashed out.

“Wait for a second,” he voiced adamantly and called over Skokdrag.

“Ya summoned me?” he scurried outside.

“Construction can now begin, I’ll leave and come to check up on the progression in two or three days.”

“Too long, come later in the evening,” the voice filled with confidence, “-us dwarves are fast builders, that small shop will be as good as new in two days maximum. More manpower will be brought in,” a bold statement.

Far away, “keeping thy mouth shut shan’t bring about salvation,” kept underground, away from prying eyes, away from civilization. A small chapel that stood on the outskirts of Kreston, hidden amidst vegetation and greenery, the inquisitors went to work. Four powerful staff on each cardinal point erected to form a barrier, one that kept mana from escaping.

“Heh,” tied to a table with scars and dried blood on the face and body, the mage from Whisper breathed. The inquisitors armed by red-hot rods burnt symbols over her arms and legs, the mark of a heathen. Others held blunt knives whilst others held wires, the inquisitors were famed torturers. The Pope had expressly given orders to gather as much information possible without killing.

It had been more than a day since the transfer to the chapel. No information no nothing, the mouth remained sealed shut, her eyes burnt vividly with the will to survive. Deep down, the lady had hope, a strange feeling for one stranded away from civilization.

“Today’s the day,” sat around a circular table, all the companions had breakfast except for Axius who slept soundly.

“Yes, today’s the day I set out for Kreston,” Staxius replied whilst cleaning both Adete and his mouth.

“What about back-up?” Viola had been the one speaking for all this time.

“Not much I can do there; Kreston is a land of fanatics – who knows what will happen.”

“Master,” Avon spoke, “-I’m sorry for not being able to stay by thy side,” everyone felt guilty to leave him alone. Since the day he departed for Iqeavea, they all learned to manage without thanks to Undrar’s tutelage.

“Ha-ha,” he laughed, all looked at him strangely, “-you needn’t worry. By how things are doing now – it’s better this way.” The relegation of work, Cake was in charge of the underground whilst Undrar was in charge of the party. “Even so, if things are troubling, feel free to reach out; I’m always here to help,” he stood. “You better study hard, Lizzie,” with a smile a blue mist materialized.

“You heard the man,” Viola took charge; Kniq headed to the adventuring guild. Avon remained at the hotel and took care of Auic who still dealt with the dark-past. Lizzie, on the other hand, had found a nice place at one of the schools. For one who was brought up in poverty, Viola helped the studies at night, the companions were free to do whatever.

Everything fell into place, rather than porting attention to each individual, that responsibility was given to Undrar and Cake. Staxius had hands in many things, connection with people was made, the quest to forming Arda’s guild moved slowly. Kniq’s reputation grew thanks to Achilles, a hero worthy of a poem. Their exploits caught the eyes of many mid-tier adventuring guilds. Many offers to join came but were rejected one by one.

“You’re playing a difficult game,” Adete voiced, the city felt small. The duo stood atop a clocktower, the wind blew, it felt harsh and unforgiving.

“I’m not hiding anything from anyone,” he replied nonchalantly; preparation for teleporting to Kreston began. The left eye closed, the search for Claudia resumed; the general location was discovered – time now was for a closer inspection.

“If you say so, King of Arda, Shadow from the Dark-guilds. Staxius, leader of Kniq as well as an alchemist. What’s the point of having so many personas and titles – aren’t you afraid that if found out, everything might crumble away?” she raised a good question, why would anyone have so many facades.

“It’s simple really, all those connections are the groundwork for anything that may arise in the future. Even if people find out I belong to the dark-guild, what could they do? Hidros doesn’t have a law system, adventurers are the ones keeping the peace. As far as the citizens are concerned, tis but a myth. Leaders of Kniq and Alchemist are titles that are necessary for the opening of a guild in Arda. I’m King, and a king is as strong as the people he surrounds himself with, therefore, the more people I know, the stronger I get. Even if the truth comes to light, who is foolish enough to oppose me?” the reply firm.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, all I asked was out of concern, too much can often lead to self-destruction.”

“You needn’t worry,” he patted her head, the location was found. “None knows what the future holds, get powerful is what Lord Death sought and tis what I shall do.”

*Ancient Magic: Teleportation,* the blue mist turned into a purplish color.

“Pope, there’s an intruder in our territory,” the angel materialized, a strange aura was felt.

“Ignore it, we’ve more things to do,” he replied harshly, the attention focused on growing the army known as Razer.

“Your call,” Hamael replied and returned to help out the mana transfer.

Stood inside a forest, he walked towards the strange-looking building. “Is that a barrier?” with eyes closed – a dome shape was picked-up. ‘I see,’ a closer look later, ‘-this is why Axius thought his mother died,’ sneakily, he teleported inside without much trouble.

Muffled screams came from within the walls; air-ducts led into the dungeon. ‘We’ve found the place,’ a large room with benches on either side with a hieroglyph of their god at the front, Staxius walked slowly. All the auras were sensed as clear as day underground.

Crouched with the palm on the floor, the mind focused, ‘Six with one restricted,’ not wanting to teleport directly, he followed the mana conduits through the floor and walls. All converged behind the hieroglyph – a secret passage. Without much effort, the mechanism triggered and said doorway was cracked. *Click,* it opened; a spiral staircase led downstairs. The already feeble aura was erased; a true shadow.

“Why are you here, have you come to spy on his holiness or were thou sent by the fake-apostle?” nails were chipped, melted iron dripped on her already injured arms as if raindrops.

Cloaked in a white and blue hood, the inquisitors went to work.

“Go to hell,” she fired back without care. Her attitude grew too much for the torturers, all wanted to see her die.

“Start by cutting off a few toes – if the lady shan’t talk then we shall enlighten her to the ways of our God.” With only a rag covering her flesh, a blunt knife would be the one responsible for said task. “Cut off my toe,” they poured boiling water over her chest, “cut off my leg, cut off my head, I’ll never give out information. YOU ARE ONLY BUT PAWNS IN THIS GAME OF CHESS,” she screamed.

Brown hair, honey-colored eyes, a face resembling his long-lost mother, the lady truly was the sister. He watched intently, he watched till the tortures took actions in slicing off the toe.

‘Claudia Haggard...’