The Wielder of Death Magic

“Courtney,” said Staxius opening the hangar, “-you’ve come as well?”

“You’re here,” she turned with a smile, “-long time no see,” they greeted in form of a hug.

“I thought you were out on a mission?”

“Figure I’d come by as escort,” she glanced inside, “-Aceline?”

“In the pod, where’s the medical team?”

“Hold on,” she gestured to a clueless looking guard, “-go fetch the medical team.”

.....

“As you wish,” quick on his feet, the boy ran along.

“Can’t believe she’s dead,” sighed she.

“I can’t believe she was killed,” the posture held discontent, “-the killer needs to be found. Killing a star out in public is obnoxious, they didn’t even try to hide the body.”

“I see now,” she nodded, “-quite a detestable show of authority. What’s the plan?”

“We’re reviving Aceline, what else. I’ve a good idea on who might be responsible,” as he spoke, the medical team arrived. No words exchanged for they knew what to do. The pod was transported into the plane. Thunder-sounding roars echoed in intervals. Hence, Staxius headed to Hidros.

While the body changed continent, Dei stepped out the train into a small village named Delho. ‘Is this home?’ she walked, the people were few and thin, the buildings scattered with nature being most prominent. Immediately after the station came a shop, one with a broken window being repaired.

“Dei, how are you?” hailed the owner, “-I thought you left us for good, where have you been?”

“No where particular,” said she shyly, “-I went to visit family in the capital,” her gaze locked onto the broken glass.

“The glass,” said he, “-it’s Oris, you know; he’s been going through a rough time. I heard he got knocked out by one of his bandmates, know anything about it?”

“Where is he?” a pulse had her chest tightened, “-where’s Oris.”

“Chill girl, there’s no need to be hasty. He’s at Mrs. Delond’s place.”

“Thank you, Mathew, it’s good to see you again,” after which she sprinted into town.

“Lovers,” mumbled the owner.

“Love...” added one who was in process of fixing the window.

“Back to work,” a tap on the head had the other assistant laugh.

‘Come on Sugar; what in the world happened since I left,’ panted to a stop, a white house with slated roof rested on a cross-way.

*Knock, knock,*

“Coming,” the door opened with a middle-aged lady wearing glasses, “-what can I do for ya?” asked she taking off the spectacles.

“Is Oris here?” asked she who breathed heavily.

“Yes, who are you exactly?” a frown rose her suspicion.

“I’m Dei, I use to live with him,” to which she removed the hoodie, “-Mrs. Delond, it’s been a while.”

The frown turned upside down as her face lightened, “-Dei,” said the doctor, “-it’s good to see you,” the door opened fully, “-go on, he’s upstairs.”

“What happened to him?” the creaking of the floorboard perturbed the eerie silence. Faint moans of pain escaped through the wooden walls. The building was used as the local infirmary.

“Got in a fight, the injuries weren’t that bad, he’s just a little shaken up.”

White static noise from the television tuned to, *-Superstar Aceline found dead earlier this morning.* The words came suddenly for she strained her head to look up. The news played with bold headlines.

“How could this have happened,” whispered the assistants behind.

“What’s the world coming too,” added another.

“Did she kill herself or get murdered. Not even superstars are safe.”

‘She’s dead?’ her face lightened, ‘-she’s dead?’ a smile confirmed her prior suspicion. When Staxius said the idol died, she all but thought it be a product of the mind. Walking turned to a dash, “-don’t run in the hallways,” shouted across.

*Click,* a singular bed in a tight room, the windows opened with white-drapes fluttering about. It gave onto a tall tree with less than a few leaves. A desolate radio played the news, with another lonesome figure sat peering at the va-et-vient 1of the villagers.

“Sugar,” said an adorable whisper. The lonesome figure turned with a bandage around the head, a listless expression turn to petrified. The eyelids opened in shock with the mouth following suit.

“What a-are you doing here?” once a voice many adored to now sounding as if scraping the bottom of a barrel, he lost it. The concoction ruined his vocal cords; luck at it he didn’t go mute. As a result, the voice stayed quiet and monotonous, raising his pitch or even singing would hurt the throat.

“I came to get you,” she approached to tightly hug his head to her chest, “-I’m not going anywhere ever again. I don’t care if you pushed me away for my safety, we vowed to be one, and I’ll keep that promise.”

“P-please, D-Dei, d-don’t associate with me. I was t-the reason you got hurt. I failed as y-your lover, i-it should have been me, n-not you.”

“Stop it,” warm tears fell onto his forearm, “-I love you damn it, isn’t that reason enough. I don’t care what happens to me, we vowed, remember, we vowed!” a promise made onto a melancholic full-moon, a promise to be one till death did them part.

“Sorry,” he tightened his grip around her waist, “-I’ve got nothing, I’m worthless.”

“You got me, don’t you?” she held up his chin, “-don’t be so harsh on yourself,” they locked lips, “-I’m here for you.”

Far, far away from Dostein, two cars parked to a logged-cabin. Inside, a warm fire gave heat, the outside was cold and the air was thin.

“Good job,”

“Thank you, killing her was pretty simple. Are you sure leaving the body out like that was a wise idea?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” a black suitcase laid on a table, “-payment for a job well done. The young master will be pleased.”

“My pleasure,” nodded the hitman who soon left with the money.

Dressed in a butler’s outfit, a grey-haired man stood with a conniving smirk. ‘I do apologize,’ thought he, ‘-there can’t be any links to the young master.’ *Beep.*

*BOOM,* an explosion rattled the cold atmosphere. Birds cried far and wide as a towering pillar of smoke rose, ‘-no one must know who is responsible, everyone is disposable,’ sat he in the car.

“Young master, why have you called?”

“Did you get any information on the Hero Luna? I want her, do what is must, I want her in my bedchambers. Whoever that is must pay, she must pay!”

“Will do, young master, will do.”

“Speaking about ladies, did you kill Aceline already?”

“She has been taken care of, why master?”

“It’s father, he wants her dead. Says we could be at risk of being exposed or something.”

“I figured you to want her alive as a plaything.”

“I thought of having her sold into prostitution but she’s too renowned. She’s better off dead – I had my fun.”

“Marvelous, young master, marvelous.”

“Good job, father will be pleased.”

Minutes turned to hours. Rotherham, out on the airfield – various vehicles stood at the ready. Cake waited in the middle patiently for the plane would arrive at any moment.

“Lady Clarise, I’m glad thee made it,” said Cake surrounded by guards.

“No, Lady Cake, the pleasure is mine,” said she now a teenager, “-it’s thanks to Phantom that we’re able to work and research to our hearts contents. The papers are published under our name – the freedom thee give is more than enough.”

“There’s no need for gratitude since good work must be compensated with a good reward. The Alchemist guild is one of the pillars holding us high in the world of alchemic research,” the conversation cut short. Distinct was the sound of Phantom’s jet engine. The fighter jets would remain in the air to survey as the plane closed into the land. Screeching followed by parachutes opening, the still-greyed prototype survived a cross-continental trip. Related personnel moved to wrap around the plane, Aceline’s body was soon placed in an ambulance.

“Welcome back,” said Cake.

“Good to see you,” nodded Staxius, “-have her be transported to the Alchemist Guild, I’ll be there in a moment,” the escort drove out the airfield and towards the other buildings.

“Master Staxius,” said a girl with blond hair and deep ocean eyes.

“Clarise, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” she smiled beautifully.

“Too long, by the heavens, you’ve grown into a fine lady. Where’s the master alchemist?”

“Grandfather’s taking a break, I’ll be aiding in the ritual,” said she confidently.

“Alright,” the conversation ended. Aceline’s body entered a tunnel off to the side where GateSix worked; the subterranean research facility. One used for warfare and things beyond what one could say humane. Necromancy, Alchemy, to name a few, the research on artificial life and immortal soldiers. The same as what the pope did, or tried to do, though better. The fighters would be sentient with the help of éclair. The secret unnamed research group; it was known to never be spoken outside. The birthplace of éclair counting as the more prominent achievement. Referred to as the Alchemist Guild to not arise suspicion, Flein led despicable experiments one after the other; he was allowed to think of whatever and do the same.

“The unnamed unit,” said Staxius stood with only the body and Clarise. Access further down was denied; the medical team but helped in transporting the pod to an automatic checkpoint. From security to maintenance, all were transferred to éclair; the guardian of the unnamed facility.

“Your unit,” interjected Clarise. “-we were established per your orders, to carry the worst thing imaginable to humans.”

“Is it a complaint?” they walked along a white and sterile hallway.

“No, I’m grateful. Tis the only way we can fight the Cobalt Unit. By going down the route of what is taboo. I mean, we did make éclair; and he’s a pillar of our security and whole facility excluding my unit.”

“Well, it’s what we have to do,” they came to a giant double door. Two panels stood with the diagrams of a hand. A scan later, it opened to a large room with magic circles littered around.

“King of Arda,” said a sharp voice.

.....

“Queen Gallienne,” said he, “-what a lovely surprise.”

“Stop with the jests,” she approached, “-where’s Aceline?”

“Here,” said Clarise.

“My friend, what has become of you,” heavy sorrow filled her posture and expression, “-Staxius, I’ve done what I can; the Ritual Process from Kreston is here. I vowed to never use the pope’s findings,” hung on watching her friend’s face, she stopped speaking.

“Leave it to us,” said he, “-Clarise and I will make sure she comes back to life. Go, they’re waiting outside. Have look around Phantom’s headquarters; the town should have some activities thee can partake.”

“Please, do what you can. The freedom I gave to Phantom...” she deliberately didn’t follow the sentence as the door shut.

‘Blackmail,’ thought he, ‘-guess I’d do the same if someone I loved was found dead.’

“The ritual says we need living people, we need their lifeforce.”

“Don’t worry about that; a Philosopher stone can be used as a replacement.”

“We don’t have such a thing. Philosopher stone, honestly, master, isn’t that a bit far-fetched?”

“It’s not,” cold and distant, “-lay her body in the magical circle; I’ll alter the revival ritual. Stand back and be attentive; I might require assistance.”

“Do what is must, I’ll be waiting.”

‘Life and death. A chance at reviving someone I once knew. What would have happened if I was present on that day. I’m sure I could have revived everyone, I’m sure of it,’ the eyes closed, ‘-who am I kidding. It was an illusion. They were killed and the bodies were destroyed. I couldn’t have revived them even by using a relic-scroll. Five years later, I’m standing before someone precious to another. Aceline, I promise I’ll bring thee back.’