The Wielder of Death Magic

“Lady Serene,” a deep voice that sounded as if scraping the bottom of a bucket came from behind a counter. “I didn’t expect to have thee here so early,” cigar in mouth, an eye-patched wolf beastman.

“Jazl,” nodded the lady who took a strong step forward, “-I’m here for the initiation of recruits.”

“Ay,” he puffed and stared the counter, “-they the lasses of Claireville Academy?”

“Indeed,”

“Me lady has been waiting for them lot,” he turned with a clang, “-get over here,” a gesture that led them to the back of the guild. Two arenas divided by a barrier, on one side trained adventurers and the other empty. Battle cries and the sound of the sword crashed against one another had the class lagging in their steps.

“Look at them,” pointed Simone, “-that is what I call manliness.”

.....

“Don’t be an idiot,” a slap to the head, Tony had a sparkle in the eye, “-manliness can’t compare. This is what I’ve dreamt, to be trained by those who are strong.”

“You’re not the only one,” smiled Fletcher after which Harold soon joined the group.

‘Manliness they say,’ frowned Eira who peered the trainees, ‘-I don’t see that much grit. The swings are wasted energy, not efficient. The power is there, yet, I feel unrest as if compensating for fear.’

“So, you’ve made it,” stood in a line facing the Guild Leader, a greatsword rested on the ground beside her fully armored body. “Class 2A,” giving a once over, “-I see that we have her Highness in the bunch,” to that, a smile surfaced, “-should be fun.” *Clap,* warriors sprawled from out of nowhere with weapons of various kind. “Thou must have a favorite. Choose any and head to the battleground.”

“Wow,” said Fletcher, “-I’m going to use the spear.”

“Daggers for me,” winked Harold.

“I think I’ll take the long-sword,” reached Simone.

“Battle-axe,” yelled Tony who reached impatiently.

“Do be careful,” interjected Mieshre, “-the weapons are fairly heavy.” Upon taking the handle, it dropped for the weight had caught many off guard.

“What do you think?” posed Tony, “-they aren’t that heavy,” he winked.

“Stop showing off,” laughed Simone.

Away from the boys’ reckless chatter, Serene reached for the Guild Leader’s ear, “-are you not going to say something about the lack of discipline?” whispered, her ears moved in dismissal.

“What about you, Highness?” asked Mieshre.

“Give her the short-sword,” laughed Harold for they didn’t enjoy the ice princess’s presence. Birthed by how Staxius had voiced her superiority over the others, they were in a mindset to tease.

“I’ve heard that you’re quite fearful with thy ice-element. Does surprise that thou didn’t choose to partake with the mages,” resumed the leader.

“Probably because she was too scared to go against Ryul,” whispered Simone that had the others in laughter.

“Don’t mind them,” sensing Mieshre’s face turn in ire, “-boys being boys, should not matter,” giving a disgusted side-glance, “-thou did say any weapon,” reached, she pulled out the great-sword as if it were child’s play. Almost as big as her, the weapon turned to have the end inches away from Tony’s neck, to then be thrown as if a toy.

“You have guts highness,” laughed Mieshre, “-I do have to ask for the sake of asking, are you sure about using my weapon. She’s a little, how should I say, hot-headed.”

“I appreciate thy concern,” said with utmost grace, “-if she’s hot, then I’m cold,” on which a white-mist froze the handle.

“I like it,’ she howled, “-highness, thou exude as much guts as thy father.”

“Thank you,” curtsied, “-he’s the reason I’ve vowed to become strong. The first and only time he showed the true power wasn’t even in a fight. Goes to show how much catching up I have to do.” Lined with the others, her glare had subdued the childish banter.

‘Time to see what the first-princess is made of,’ smiled Serene sat on a chair. The opposite half stopped to watch.

“Ay, is our princess hard?”

“Jazl, tis not hard, the word is tough. Language has never been your strong suit, has it?”

“Yer right, what do they ought to say faced with a knife. I slash to then dip in the casserole.”

“Sounds as if you’re to make a meal,” she chuckled with one leg over the other, “-still, I agree. What’s the point of talking when one’s opponent shall die?”

“Alright rookies,” stood firm, Mieshre held chains to differing cages brought over. The latter had gnarls and hisses coming through. “Today’s test will be different. I know that our guild is here to train into fighting monsters,” rolling her eyes, “-I’ll let you experience how powerful the things many take lightly are. First off, you with the seaweed hair. Why don’t you have a go,” pulled on one of the chains, it revealed a snake.

“Listen closely,” she yelled, “-that is a Naga. A drop of its venom inside thy blood and you die. For training purposes, that right there is Nelson, we named him because tis harder to kill something with a name. He or she, we know not, is about seven months old. Most vicious at that age, you can expect a lot of bite but no venom, I think anyway, I’m no specialist.”

*Clap,* another barrier closed around Nelson and Harold.

“Here we go,” cheered the other trainees. *Clang,* the locked undone, it sprawled at lightning speed. *SMACK,* “-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” the snake had its fangs dug into his legs.

“Minus one point. Screaming like a bitch and not reacting fast enough,” voiced Mieshre with no sympathy.

“Die, die, die,” repeatedly stabbing the snake, it eventually let go to slither back to its cage. Not even half a minute had gone by, “-my legs...” blurred, the boy had subconsciously stabbed the other leg. The venom was of illusion. “Get him a healing scroll.”

“Next, the big-nosed fellow,” another cage, another match.

‘Come on, I can’t lose this,’ he thought not paying heed to an injured comrade taken away.

“Going by what I saw, thou art weak. Therefore,” squealing of a rat had him baffled. “Your opponent is a sewer rat,” uninterested, her voice was one of fatigue. “Not much threat, the name is, Sewer rat five.”

*Clang,* the gate opened. *Air-Fire Blast,* a single swing had the beast fried.

“Don’t UNDERESTIMATE ME,” yelled in passion, Simone glared the beastwoman.

“You’ve got guts,” *whistled,* “-go on Nelson.”

‘Not again,’ hands crossed, conjuration of a spell, *Air, Fire element: Firebo...AHHHHH,* another bite had the boy in pain on the ground. Filled with attitude, the snake returned to its cage.

“Get the healing crew again,” facepalmed, she shook her head in dismissal.

“Are you purposefully disrespecting us?” asked Fletcher in a polite voice.

“Did you just realize that?” her eyes grew tense, “-I’ve no patience with boys who don’t know how to behave in presence of a guild leader. I’m the one who’s being disrespectful, huh? I would have had thy head on spikes the first moment I laid my eyes upon thee. Sadly, you’re here as a guest, and guest we shall give what little respect is due.” Shoved to the arena, “-you don’t mean anything to us, understand?”

*Clang,* an ox who bore fiery red-horn moved in utter confidence.

“Charlie!” came from the other arena.

‘If that’s how she wants to play, then I’ll just have to prove them wrong,’ eyes opened, “-what happened?” feet light, the back of the head bounced off the floor knocking him unconscious. The ox had charged in the slight moment Fletcher focused.

“NELSON,” ordered the guild leader. The snake pounced and aimed for the middle of the boy’s legs.

“AHHHH,” forced awake, “-my balls,” he fainted. Total humiliation, pride, and cheerfulness slowly turned to dead silence. The laughter grew louder, Mieshre began her tortures regiment. The breakage of pride and qualities a man held important.

“Next, Tony,” called by name, “-you’re to fight a goblin.”

“Do forgive my asking,” bowed, “-why is it that you choose to call me by name?”

“Even though you acted like an idiot at first, thine instinct quickly forced thee to be more respectful. Not partaking in the leg-pulling while having a proper manner. Thou art worthy to be tested fairly.”

“I appreciate it, ma’am,” walked to the arena, few cages rested. Red flashes of light broke out of the dim-cages.

‘I came here to study, not to have fun or get humiliated. The King might have insulted us, yet, it was based on the truth. We were fools to think highly of our strength. What does it mean to be a rank-A student?’ *Clang,* the cages burst open.

*Crimson Wrath – level one: Root,* a red glow emanated from his body. Held tightly, a dash behind the green-devil, heavy and slow, they dodged the battle-ax. Said goblins were monsters used for practice; not actually goblins but cleverly concealed training dummies. Leaped, the objective was simple; to attack. Swing after swing, the goblins dodged left and right. Constantly checking the back, they tried to get into blind spots. *clash,* well-guarded, they attacked he who defended well despite the size. *Crimson Wrath – level two: Sacral,* red to orange, the speed and power visibly increased. The movement altered from a strong and direct style to agile and fast. Possessed, the body moved across the horde, one by one hits landed though no damage was felt by the devils. “He-he,” increased as well, the coordination had him guessing of the next attack. ‘Don’t underestimate me,’ the beasts opposed to fighting had changed to an annoying style. One that had many give up their life to grab onto their prey, a desperate move. Swung downwards in fury, *smack,* a club to the head.

“It’s over,” signaled Mieshre.

Disappointed, he stood to an applauding crowd. “Good job out there,” nodded the leader. “I shall tell thee more on why thou lost later.”

“It’s because I had my guard down. The one who struck my head wasn’t in the original horde, I sensed the attack too late. The giggle broke my focus to which my judgment grew foggy.”

“Learning from defeat, a good trait to have.”

“Next,” already on the move, Eira had the sword on her shoulders. The noisy ground grew dead silent. Cold and pretty, her white hair flowed with unprecedented grace.

“Guess she’s ready to fight,” said Serene with elbows on her knees.

“Highness is to fight a hobgoblin,” gasp of fear escaped.

“Eira did win the inter-magical tournament, is a hobgoblin enough?” wondered Tony.

“Thinking aloud again,” mumbled Simone, the injured students returned with lowered gazes.

A cage twice as big as before stood with snarls and heavy shaking. ‘Hobgoblin, from what I’ve seen of her personality. Another training dummy, I haven’t trained year long and won a tournament to lose here. I don’t care if this is Arda, I have to catch up to my father.’ *Ice Element: Ice Shards,* summoned above the head, it hovered as if guns. ‘Prolonging the battle isn’t a good option. Fast and quick,’ taking a low-stance to the ground, ‘-the fastest attack in my arsenal.’ *Clang,* opened the cage.

*Lightning Strike – Shadow Variant,* from white to somber, she burst forth leaving a trail of destruction behind. Sliced in two, the hobgoblin fell, the ice shards impaled the remainder without mercy. *Ice Element: Freeze,* clenched, yet another spell just in case. *Poof,* exploded in smoke, sparkles flowed into the air.

“Lady Mieshre, the sword is a very good weapon. She’s amazing,” returned with the utmost respect, Eira stood in line nonchalantly. Speechless, even the guild leader took a few moments to process the information.

“Could I please borrow the sword,” reached Tony curious to what she said, “-woohh!” the weight pulled his hand downward. “It’s heavier than the battle-ax,” turned to the guild leader, the test ended.

“Alright,” from noncaring to disciplined, “-all you rookies are to start training this instant. Have the cards stamped by Jazl, we’ll begin with physical enhancement.”