The Wielder of Death Magic

“Around seven to eight months, Kniq actually stayed here until they parted and headed out to their individual quests,” side by side, they checked on the kitchen, dining hall, bar area, and more.

“Do you stay here?” she asked, “-there’s no housekeeper nor maid.”

“Not at the moment,” they walked up the stairs, “-I’m staying at the castle. My duties in Rosespire has served its purpose.”

“The rooms sure are empty,” commented Eira as every door was explored, the library held an extensive collection of books relating to magic and art of war. “This is the study room,” paused, “-I sense strange mana around here,” the door creaked opened.

“Oh, well it’s the place where I spent the most time teaching Lizzie,” he smiled, “-it hasn’t been cleaned nor touched since her death. Tis a memento, I rather not interfere with the items.”

“But why?” she turned, “-have you not moved on from her death?”

.....

“Quite a bold question,” he patted her head, “-moving on isn’t the issue. What happened, happened, your mother gave me an opportunity to move on,” he walked to the attic, “-let’s go, I’m sure she’s waiting.”

“Portals?” she asked.

“Yeah, the first princess needs to be there, don’t forget, we’re family,” he held out a hand, one that she took without questions asked.

Oil, grease, and gun-powder, “-where are we?” she asked entering a pitch-black room.

“My workshop,” flicking on a light, skid marks, a metallic gate built recently. To the side, a makeshift work table onto which rested plans for the new mines. Behind the chair, on the opposite wall – wooden shelves holding potions, and items relating to alchemy. Next to it, a windowed cupboard holding ores and samples labeled according to his discretion. Once where Void would have rested, stood a similar worktable with apparatuses for alchemy. On the wall close to the door, experimental substances relating to what he researched. It had been a few days; the refurbishing process took a little over 8 hours.

“Now this looks like the workshop of an alchemist,” she walked around and admired the tools, “-what are you researching on?”

“Synthesizing mana from the atmosphere opposed to living beings,” he said nonchalantly, “-it’s a co-project for the Alchemist sect.”

“Where did you get that idea?” she asked with her eyes admiring a test-tube with a glowing red substance.

“Sepmora,” tiding up the table, “-the witches used mana from the atmosphere. Since we’re able to obtain mana from any living being, that’s the next step I guess.”

“Father,” she spoke out, “-are you not forgetting something?”

“Oh yes, I do get lost once I lay my eyes on the table,” walking to the door, “-let’s go, the fumes are potentially harmful to humans,” he winked, the door opened, it led into a dark-hallway with stairs leading down.

“Are we not supposed to exit in a hall close to the throne room?”

“Oh, yes,” he smiled, “-we’ve transferred my research room from the underground to one of the guard-towers. It’s at the back, remote with no interruption.”

“How far does this go?” lantern in hand, each step echoed, no opening in the wall, total darkness, the climb down felt like ages. Wooden doors with circular handles, “-that’s the exit,” it opened into a great green yard.

“The battlements,” she pointed at the guards who made rounds, “-so your alchemist tower is one of the four great lookouts?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “-we’re at the outermost wall of the castle. Since there’s like three walls protecting the castle, one of the towers grew to be free, that’s the result.”

“Three walls?” she asked, “-I’ve never heard anything about this.”

“Of course not,” he smiled, “-have you not noticed how the entrance is expansive? There’s a high-level concealment spell which gives the illusion of it not being that well-protected. Don’t ask me about who and how they did it, the old sage is very adamant about safety. We should really get going,” walking along a stone path that led to the back-entrance with massive black gates, “-majesty,” called one of the guards, it opened and led into an almost forest-like surrounding.

“First time, how, does it look?” after passing through the gate, the grandness of the castle came into perspective. “Too complicated,” she laughed, “-let’s go in already,” adamant, Eira took to the other gate.

“Hold up,” called Staxius, the gate refused to open.

“Why is it not opening?” she pulled on what seemed to be a door with rough features.

“That’s a tree,” he facepalmed, “-the door is that log over there,” he laughed.

“Spare me,” she sighed, “-let me just meet my sister already,” a labyrinth with traps inactive. One of the defenses if ever they were under attack. “Fine, fine,” *clap,* a portal materialized, “-let’s go.”

“Greetings majesty,” they stood in the portal room.

“Greetings,” he nodded and reached for the portal into the throne room.

“Father,” close behind, “-be honest, can one make it inside from the back?” she asked, a well-decorated hall sprawled into life.

“You can go out, but can’t come in,” he smiled and walked. “Rosetta,” called, she who held a platter of glasses stumbled to a stop, “-what is it?” she turned with a sharp look. “Could you escort Eira to her room and have her readied with proper attire?” asked courteously, the maid smiled.

“Hand me the platter,” ordered Staxius.

“Your grace, it would be disgraceful to have a royalty...” before her ramble could start, he interjected sharply, “-get her readied, I’ll take the platter; it’s an order, don’t disappoint,” innocent with a deadly shadow, she obeyed.

“This way, highness,” she led the way towards the back.

Supervising the correct arrangement of chandeliers, taken out for cleaning a few days ago, the head-butler stood on a ladder. Heads stared the ground, some washed, some swept, a last-minute clean-up as the event got readied.

“Youst,” a familiar voice called, obliged, he turned with, “-how may I be of... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Losing grip, the worker fixing the chandelier tripped, *Mana control: Spatial Control,* as if waves, lines making the shape and effect of ripples came into being. Falling onto the sea-like structure, the worker floated downward, even the chandelier came to a stop, as for Youst, he floated up to the ceiling. ‘Still uneven,’ clicking the tongue in disappointment, “-are you hurt?” open palm to a fist, the levitating items landed. The wave-line structure disappeared – forgotten, Youst fell from up high. *Death Element: Magical Barrier,* a snap, the butler landed on his bottom.

“What happened?” asked the maids who faced the incident, gasps turned to relief.

“No idea,” they all stood clueless to what transpired.

“Majesty,” crawled, “-why are you holding a platter?” asked Youst with a sulked face.

“Do I look like I’m holding the platter?” refuted back, it levitated shy of the palm.

“Majesty,” another, this time, a tired voice spoke, “-what did you do?” asked the old sage who teleported in, the guards and everyone around were on edge. Hairs stood up in a state of unrest, the gaze turned into glares.

“Majesty?” teleported in a bat-shape, Lord Balthazar levitated with sharpened claws, “-are you the cause of the disturbance?” he asked.

“Why is it that thine stares are one of fear with a few mixed with anger,” scanning their faces with a glare of his own, “-how dare thee,” he spoke with a deep, resonating voice.

“Staxius?” in rushed Xula with Prophecy, the queen had a rose’s thorn above her fingers while Prophecy held a bow and arrow. “What’s the meaning of this?” she asked and moved closer.

“Could someone please explain what has happened here?” asked Ruslan with sharpened teeth.

“Majesty,” yelled one of the royal guards, “-do you mean to harm?”

“Harm?” emotionless, “-do I mean to harm?” he asked, the look on their eyes was one of utmost fear. In a panic, spells were conjured, of which were pointed at the King – clueless, Xula waited as Prophecy forced her to stop.

“Don’t move,” yelled the old sage as Staxius twitched his finger.

‘What’s this all of a sudden,’ he thought, ‘-are they on edge because of the mana-control?’ tired, *Mana control: Spatial control – Cancellation,* forming a circle, he grasped the symbol and smashed it on the ground. On impact, green ripples of mana moved outwards as if a pebble thrown into a lake. *Poof,* the spells disarmed; Prophecy’s material form waned; even Xula’s spell broke. A crack broke the silence, it came from the old sage’s staff.

Weak stomached maids hurled, some fell unconscious, “-MAJESTY,” yelled the old sage, “-could you please stop?” he asked.

“You ask this of me when you’re the one who ran in without explanation and pointed weapons. Does that not give me the right to fight back. I’m not opposed to the idea of taking on all who dare to glance the slight killing intent. Dare and I swear, I’ll have thine head served on a platter with an assortment of thine blood, DOES ANYONE WANT TO PARTAKE IN A FEAST OF DEATH?” an ominous aura oozed.

“Stand down,” stood beside Staxius, “-all of you, KNEEL,” ordered Xula.

“YES,” echoed, the simultaneous sound of flesh hitting the floor resonated, “-you too,” she glared.

“Majesty,” obliged, Staxius listened for it would be disrespectful.

“King Staxius, care to explain what you performed?”

“Mana control, a new art I’ve been working on during my many hours researching how mana interacts with our world. Experimental, I thought it best to use it in good faith to save a fellow worker who would have fallen to his death. I have yet to give a name.”

“Honestly,” she shook her head, “-have you heard?” she turned to the people, “-have thy forgotten King Staxius is thine monarch. Even if he wishes to take thine heads; you must but bow and respect for his word is the law. I’m very much appalled at how thine animal instinct overtook the rationality of who stood,” ashamed, all could but grit and reflect on their actions.

“Majesty,” taking his hand, “-Ardanians are very sensitive to changes of mana. I’ve no idea how you were able to control the flow of life – tis a feat worthy of praise. The sudden shift forced many to fight back,” she smiled.

“I see,” turning to those who knelt, “-I won’t apologize nor say that I regret my actions. I meant the words I spoke – I will kill any and all who dares to harm me or my family. Be they be my people or my friends, I shan’t spare a life. On that, you all may return to thine duties; don’t let it be of much concern, as long as thou art innocent and have nothing but love for the crown, I shall return the feeling ten-fold. Treat one as you want to be treated.”

Shuffling back up, the workers and maids gave nervous smiles. The words, image of a strong king, etched into their heart and soul. The last part of treating people with kindness resonated even more. A spark of light, in the darkness that had vailed the room.

The crowd dispersed, “-old sage,” called Staxius, “-I do apologize for breaking the staff, it must have meant a lot.”

“Majesty,” he smiled, “-you’re truly someone worthy of praises. I did hold contempt as the change felt unnatural, it was as if a warning on incoming disaster – I held it until you spoke. I feel much better,” the face relaxed. “Don’t worry about the staff, it’s an egg,” he laughed with a few coughs.

“An egg you say?” the staff indeed drooled with egg-white.

“Controlling the flow of mana,” commented Balthazar, “-the possibilities are endless, make sure to not have the spell cause trouble,” a pat on the back later, “-I’m envious of the feast.”

“Hey,” whispered Xula, “-let’s get going.”

“You’re right,” the duo teleported into the garden, where Lizzie slept under the shade of a flowering tree.