The Wielder of Death Magic

“Igna,” said Lady Elvira overlooking her large ebony desk. Lady Courtney was in the corner with a book in hand and tea to the side.

“Lady Elvira, Lady Mother, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“Good,” said Elvira sharply, “-that must be Alicia?” she inched closer with elbows on the table.

“The supposed spy?” the cup rested noiselessly, “-Is that right?” sharpened glare stabbed prematurely.

“Lady Mother, lady Elvira, she’s a turncoat spy.”

A raise of the hand from Courtney told them to remain silent, and so, he stepped back respectfully. The manager remained in their line of sight; a crushing pressure exuded from behind the desk walloped into a spiral of dark energy of which bared the features of a demon. “Care to explain in detail?” asked Elvira in a more relaxed posture.

.....

“Sure,” she gulped. ‘There goes nothing,’ the flustered face resolved into confidence. Her partner, the supposed target, gave her the best gift one could have ever hoped for. Neither money nor fame, tis freedom. Freedom to do what she wanted, freedom to think, and a strong shoulder to carry her head in times of need. The latter was proven more than a few times, he refused to renounce her in a time where, she, herself, had given up on life. New found pride and new-found bravado, the lady stood strongly and beautifully.

“My name is Alicia Raze. I’m a spy working for Patek’s secret group of information gathering. We’re most often referred to as the secret service. There’s no name behind which we stand. Agents of the service are often orphans or kidnapped children with superior abilities. Treatment is neutral, those who are gifted are viewed as normal, and those of lower stature are treated as pests. The agents are trained in the manner of physical and mental ability. It’s the extent of what I know since I’ve been through it. Our orders come from various sources, either phone, papers, mail. No sender, no face, no identification. We’re kept in the dark – sometimes, even the missions are secretive, to say the least. I was lucky enough to have met the Patek’s heir. His actions were mostly misogynistic. We went on dates where I strongly refused the advances, saying I’d rather die. He’d always reply with, ‘-go on, refuse me as long as you want. The time will come when you’ll throw yourself at me. The short-lived freedom is mine to control.’ In around then, I received an assignment from another party. I was to infiltrate Alphia, work with idols and find traces of the Dark-Guild. I mostly did as was told until the day where Igna Haggard entered the continent. Little did I know the encounter would alter my life. I held onto sending the reports. However, one of my friends, the only one who cared for me, killed herself. My gut voiced it strongly, she was killed by the heir of Patek. I decided then and there, I’d die. Not before experiencing the pleasures of life.”

“I see,” said Elvira thoughtfully. Courtney kept the same expression and often met the other’s gaze. Silent twitches and mien showed their level of interest. Each picked on the other’s mood telepathically, they knew what the other thought. No magic nor other means for said sharing of thoughts came per the culmination of their deep bond.

“Igna.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Is it true you’re dating her?” asked she strongly.

“Yes, it’s true,” he ambled to her side.

“Even though she’s a spy?” inquired Elvira, “-surely thou art not so daft. What if tis all a greater scheme to gain our trust, what if she has other plans. Can you vouch for our safety?”

Alicia’s demeanor sunk into hesitation. ‘-They’re right,’ her mind moved to a dark howling forest. Black was the sky and blacker was the path. The leaves swayed in a manner to say, ‘-unworthy, death is all thy deserves. Not acceptance.’ A gust soon blasted her face frigid – voices of the dead, voices of the people she killed were carried over. Accusation on accusation, they complained, screamed, and defiled the remaining confidence. Shadow befell her eye socket, the hefty burden weighted against her shoulder. Her head hung low in damnation.

“Most definitely,” exclaimed he, ‘-why am I so adamant?’ Crimson discolored into white, ‘-why do I feel so angry and confident?’ He grabbed her hand, “-I first brought her here to be used as a spy for our cause,” side-glancing her lowered head, “-I know I was wrong. It would be cruel of me to ask so much to someone who’s already lost what she had. Regardless, I can say one thing, she’s my partner, and I’m not letting go. She understands how I feel, the world changes, and I need allies.”

“Are you sure?” asked Courtney.

“Mother,” strong and loud, “-Like it or not, she’s my partner, we’ve vowed to one another.”

The night cracked; pieces crumbled to dust. A tight grip pulled on her focus, the way he spoke and stood up for them gave hope, the head slowly lifted. He spoke to them as if it was expected. Behind the desk stood the demon, opposite them, another rose, the devil, each butted head.

“Good,” smiled Courtney, the dangerous aura resolved, “-I like it,” she turned to Elvira, “-my son’s grown so much.”

“Yes,” smiled Elvira, “-our precious Igna’s a man now.”

“Mother,” the grip eased, “-I’ve missed you.” She vaulted over the desk to a tight strangle. The reunion continued late into the evening, 18:00 flashed on the digital clock.

“About the assignment to restrain Eira.”

“Yes, it won’t be necessary. The ambassador is Lucifer himself,” said Igna. Alicia stayed in the waiting lounge.

“I know,” said Courtney, “-Igna, can you beat the Librarian of Nexsolium?”

“At the moment, no, I don’t think so. I’ve regained part of my strength.”

“I knew it,” said Elvira, “-you’re our master’s reincarnation, aren’t you, Igna.”

“I suppose so. A new life means a new start. Nothing must change, I’m still the son of Courtney Haggard and precious nephew to Lady Elvira.”

“I know,” said she rustling his hair, “-about the task, it comes from Queen Gallienne. I’ve sent the information, depends on her next move.”

“What’s Phantom’s stance?” asked Igna.

“Think about it,” voiced Courtney, “-this is a great opportunity to leave the politics and live a normal life with the newfound partner.”

“I’d be lying to myself. I’m not saving the world; my goal is to get strong. To do so, I must face off against strong individuals – there are far too many unanswered questions.”

“How about regaining the symbols of power for a start?”

“Difficult. I don’t have the slightest clue where they are.”

“Look here,” said Courtney pulling up her sleeve, “-I have the symbol of the Death Reaper. Too bad I can’t use it, feels more like a tattoo than anything.”

“Seriously?” the brow raised; “-the scythe is in thy possession. What then?”

“Take it,” said she, “-heir to Lord Death.”

“The symbol of death,” he gulped, ‘-if I take it, I’ll be able to access Nevermore. The DEATH gates... should be a fighting chance.’

“Go on then,” said she, “-touch it.”

Relaxed and focused, a single touch on her arm sent a shockwave of nausea. The symbol jumped to crawl up Igna’s arms and burnt under the left eye. ‘I feel dizzy,’ *bang.*

“-IGNA... IGNA... wake up, are you ok?”

“-Someone, get a medic!”

‘So loud,’ the eyes reopened to Rosespire, ‘-wasn’t I at Rotherham?’ few blinks, and the picture grew clearer, the banner down the castle wasn’t of the royal family. The people walking about did so in utter joy, it felt more of a replica of the actual capital. A flash of lightning shook the ground, ‘-what’s happening?’ shadows went up and down the arms and legs. ‘Did I cause the lightning?’

A horn resounded across the empty plateau outside the castle walls. Three powerful entities flew in to stand at the entrance. Black, fiery red, and bleach blond, the aura emanating were way beyond what he could sense. ‘-They’re as strong as gods. Who are they?’ blurred cleared into the inside of a palace. Tall ceiling, carved pillars of marble, intricate and beautiful murals. He turned to sit, the couch screamed of nobility, the tiled floor was even more so refined.

“Look who decided to wake up,” said a soft voice. ‘-this feeling, it’s like someone’s standing on my head.’ The drunken stupor broke, “-ADETE,” he shouted.

“WOW,” returned the room, he reached to hold her tiny arms, “-it’s you,” he smiled, the first progenitor stood atop the open palm.

“Don’t start crying on me,” said she hugging his forehead.

“Says the one who’s crying,” he refuted.

“Shut up, you’re crying,’ said she childishly.

“I’ve missed you,” said he, she flew to stand atop the shoulder.

“Me too,” said she joyfully bobbing her head. “-I’m not the only one.” Giant doors opened inwards, high-heels echoed on the floor.

‘Unbelievable,’ he stood, ‘-three majestical entities.’

Intherna’s crimson-colored hair felt fiercer than ever as was her beautiful face. Gophy’s melancholic and slightly destructive person watched in disregard. Miira’s traditional and refined way of posture and mannerism held even stronger. The trifactor of the epitome of power. He once had the honor of having their respect. Now, the expression said to address in respect, they watched indifferently at the shell of a man once called master.

“Goddess of Chaos, Gophy, daughter to the sun god Rah, Intherna, and Goddess of Kiant, eternal protector of time, Miira. I’m Igna Haggard, the reincarnation of Staxius Haggard,” he got on one knee and bowed respectfully. The heels strongly moved to stand around his lowered gaze. The burden had the throat subconsciously choke.

“Welcome back,” warm hands wrapped tightly in an embrace.

“Sorry?” he leaned to see the three deities in tears.

“Are you stupid?” voiced Intherna, “-why so formal. We vowed to be by thy side. Miira and I searched day and night for the past six years. We looked to no avail, your soul and body were lost.”

“Calm down,” said Gophy, “-Staxius, I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” added Miira, “-if only we helped, Zeus and Lucifer wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Wait, aren’t you angry at me?”

“Why would we be?” said they simultaneously, “-the one who turned the last of his power and life force into the foundation of our home deserves praise, not hate.”

“The shadow realm is intact?”

“Far better. Tis a dimension of its own now. Kronos’s sickles granted far more power than ever. Everyone here’s grown to surpass the mantle of High-tier goddess,” said Intherna.

“In another word,” interjected Gophy, “-you’ve created another world. A place where beings are constantly granted power beyond normal expectation, from souls to gods, all are granted equal amounts of power.”

“I sense something else,” voiced Miira, “-you’ve done it, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “-I met with Origin, I completed Scifer’s request. The Foundateur 1is part of my being.”

“I’m glad. Alright, stand up,” she held out a hand.

“Where are we headed?”

“To talk over a nice warm meal,” winked Intherna.

“What about you?” asked he to Adete. *Bite,* he squealed, “-never mind.”

‘The Shadow Realm is a world of its own. Hard to imagine how much power it must have taken. The mana is very potent, a bit too much – I feel light-headed. I’m glad to see the goddesses. Their eccentric personalities are breath of fresh air... If I’m in the Shadow Realm, doesn’t that mean I’ve traveled into another world?’

“Correct,” said Miira, “-though, only the consciousness made the trip today.”