The Wielder of Death Magic

“Because,” he leaned to place a hand on her knee, “-I need your help. I’ve said what I wanted to say, my involvement, and the future that is to follow. You’re the only one who knows so much about me ever since I’ve reawakened.”

“What if I take this information to the officials,” her eyes narrowed, Igna resettled into his chair. The studio over the tinted mirror, the instruments, and the atmosphere had sparked interest in the idol’s heart.

“Nothing much will happen,” he slid towards the mixing board, “-you were killed by the Patek’s, that much I can assure. I thought about the why, when, and how, for months now, the conclusion is, Patek’s did it. They wanted to silence the unnatural bond between you and their heir. Don’t think you’re the only one who’s suffered at their hands. My companion had her best friends killed, and she proceeded to die by their hands. I know the culprit but cannot move against them, that’s how powerful the associates of the conglomerates are.”

“How, then,” the expression eased to give the fullest of attention.

“Break them from the inside,” he smirked, “-I know someone who has no interest in being part of the conglomerates, the man who is behind the blossoming of the entertainment district, a chef, and a very spirited individual. Amsey from Lum.”

“I remember him,” she snarled, “-the smug old bastard. He never cared for the world of cinema, always going on about cooking and the good old days. He’s not bad per se, tis the snake-filled entourage.”

.....

“The old man has regained his vigor,” he smiled, “-a lot of things have changed. Aceline, you’re the missing piece in what is to come of us,” he held out a hand, “-I don’t expect much. Be yourself and sing, tis all I ask.”

“On one condition,” she lunged for the handle, “-I always wanted to see how well a god could play music. Show me the resolve through melodies, and I shall reply in faith.” He agreed with a gentle smile. Her heart somewhat skipped, the way Igna carried himself felt dignified and kind, different from Staxius. ‘-He has an overwhelming personality and charm, I can’t but be attracted to him. I feel at ease, never mind my situation, being killed and revived; it doesn’t matter when he’s around. He’s not afraid to say and show emotions anymore. Perhaps I’m paranoid,” she sat and he settled before a grand piano, “-there’s a layer of anger waiting to be peeled. If anyone gets in his way, they’ll pay the ultimate price.”

“Hey, are you ready?” he startled her reflection.

“Y-yeah,” the voice cracked, “-sorry, tis a bit worrisome. Singing after so long. My voice’s different and rusty.”

“Obviously,” he remarked, “-the body is an imitation of the original. Don’t misunderstand, it’s highly capable, the stamina and physical aptitude are over the charts. Starting again will be a tedious task. Pride might not allow so, but I beg, sing, illuminate the world as you did so many years ago. Do it again, channel the stage, remember the people, the emotions, the good things spawned from singing your heart out,” the piano sprawled into life, singular lingering notes visibly sprung and hung. She imagined a map of countless notes ambling around the room. ‘Save the world,’ he thought, ‘-it’s your song in my arrangement of woeful melodies. Feel the emotions, remember what it was like, grab the microphone, and sing. It’s the only way to move forward, grab it and sing, SING, ACELINE, SING!’ the rigidness and forceful rhythm increase grabbed the singer by the neck and dragged out. She inhaled and mumbled the lyrics, and then hummed it. The voice had a clearer, more mature strength to it, a dignified air of a monarch. One reminiscent of magnificent queens leading her army into battle.

Meanwhile, a very flustered Kul and content Asmodeus returned. The gates opened without a word said, the moon was a third of the way till sunrise, the bright yellowish glow outlined the manor splendidly.

“Good evening,” said éclair, “-do take the lady to her chambers. We shall speak of the matters tomorrow morning.”

“Alright,” *hic,* “-I’m not drunk... just tired,” she limped into Asmo’s arms.

“Yeah, she’s not drunk,” he sarcastically added, “-take her to bed, I want a hot shower.”

“I presume the two are back?” voiced Gravy on the first floor.

“Yes,” nodded éclair, “-you’re taking the devils to bed?”

Unbeknownst to the household, sunrise arrived auspiciously. Doors to the studio opened harshly, Draconis stood in the company of Asmodeus. “What happened here?”

“A sleepover,” commented Asmodeus. Instruments were littered around, sheet music and the likes flung as if trash. A nameless face had slumped on the couch, whilst Igna had his head down on the keyboard.

“Master, time to wake up,” said he.

“POPS!”

‘That voice.’ The eyes reopened, “-Draconis,” *boof,* a shockwave carried across the wall, “-what did I say about spearing people.”

“I can’t help it,” he pouted, “-Saniata and Vanesa are still sleeping. I want to play...”

“Calm it boy,” a father shuffle of the hair had the boy giggle, “-let’s go play soccer, the field’s ripe for morning exercise.”

“Sire,” interjected éclair, “-what should I do about Aceline?”

“She’s our esteemed guest,” they exchanged fist bumps,”-let the pot simmer for a bit.” Those enigmatic words annoyingly pestered him, what did he mean, was it a metaphor or just an order for breakfast. ‘Ought to care for her,’ he side-glanced, ‘-still, what he did was very impressive.’

Down below, as the sun rose to a visible height, an orangish white ball went from side to side. Draconis had no qualms unleashing the ‘youthful vigor’. Unsurprisingly, Igna matched and returned the strike in kind. A passing game turned ‘-who’s going to get hurt first.’

‘The conglomerates,’ he thought and played, ‘-I have a rudimentary idea for a plan. A simple strategy to ruffle the order of things. I can’t go head-to-head just of yet, and I doubt I’ll ever will without Phantom, Elon’s Dynasty, and the Dark-Guild’s support. Them alone shows how powerful the opponents are. Tis but a game of wit, I’m most acquainted to Amsey, he’s the top dog for the entertainment side of Alphia. Ansoft and Apexi’s bad blood comes from the other conglomerate’s interference. The groundwork for a potential blindsided attack is there. Come on Amsey, take the bait.’ He subconsciously full-powered the ball out of the manor’s bound. Draconis all but fell on the grass and cackled, the vigor seeped into the soil as sweat.

Kul and Asmodeus stumbled to the dining hall. Breakfast was prepared courtesy of éclair.

“You two had fun,” remarked Igna.

“You don’t understand,” complained Kul, “-I had too much to drink,” she slobbered onto the fatigued Asmodeus.

“What’s the prince’s excuse?” fired Gravy.

“Another meeting at three o’clock,” he said, “-my guests were rather savage. I can’t feel my lower back.”

Saniata and Draconis opted for an easy breakfast. The latter had presumably built a secret base in the trees around the property. “Vanesa.”

“No pops,” she refused, “-I don’t want to play with them,” her face dawned a sulk, “-I hate moving around. Sleep is best for me,” and so, she curled in his lap as if a cat and slept. Aceline quietly sat through the arduous morning.

“Everyone’s gathered here,” proclaimed Igna, “-please, welcome the newest resident of the manor, the pride of Hidros, Aceline.”

“Pride of Hidros?” Kul lifted a brow, “-I’ve heard the title on the Arcanum.”

“Me too,” yawned Asmodeus, “-the table spoke of her greatly yesterday. Something about being a plaything for the higherups.”

“I guess the stories live through time,” she exhaled and firmed a smile, “-my name’s Aceline Randle, ex-idol and movie star.”

“She’s a close friend of mine,” returned Igna, “-and yes, for those asking, I revived her to be part of our team.”

“Make sense. My name’s Kul, a high-ranking demoness.”

“Mine’s the dark Prince of Lust and Gambling, Asmodeus, call me Asmo for short.”

“Gravy,” said the butler, “-butler to Igna Haggard.”

“My name’s Vanesa,” she yawned, “-the whatever of curse, Igna’s my dad, good night.”

“The two outside are Draconis and Saniata, my children,” said he, “-don’t be fooled, no one here is human, not even you, Aceline.” She accepted her fate remarkably well, part of it was due to last night’s jamming session. She poured her heart and soul; the reawakened version of her voice had Igna tremble from the start.

Introduction turned report of yesterday. Igna sat and listened. Gravy courteously escorted the idol to her chambers where multiple outfits laid on her bed.

‘He made 1.2 million from gambling. The title isn’t for show after all.’

“My lord,” interjected Asmo, “-I don’t really care about the money. The thrill of winning sufficed. There’s but a lowly favor I wish to ask.”

“Keep the money and gamble,” he returned.

“Read my mind,” he laughed.

“We’ve scouted a prime location for the gambling house. There’s a motel for sale, I haven’t checked the price nor its condition, the emplacement befits our agenda.”

A distant should of rotors perturbed the meeting. Panic held the table in worry, Igna waited smugly. ‘-He took the bait,’ he stood, the conversation stopped. A nod to éclair told what was needed. The guests were soon escorted to the bar, whereupon, Amsey’s stature giddied. Asmo and Kul were tasked to visit Fulha’s district again. No matter the era or persona, the schemes, and constant evaluation made a boy into a power-hungry fiend. One can say, the scheme started the day they met, an unconscious effort. Igna left a strong impression as he broke down Alicia’s flaws. Then, the time elapsed, Amsey grew wary under the limits of taking personal actions. Vorn’s sudden kidnapping left a large hole in Ansoft’s agency. The other idols and potential stars were drug addicts or fell into the world of adult entertainment. The publics’ outrage at how their favorite stars were treated instigated a response from Amsey, he had to make a change and do it quick. The stain of red wine on a white shirt couldn’t be cleaned so easily. Their ranking fell by the efforts of a single man, Igna. On one side, Apexi’s popularity grew in Hidros whilst Ansoft’s fell into disarray. An all-consuming darkness wrapped the reenergized chef. Angelic feathers glided into the confusion, a light, and a helping hand.

Aceline crossed into the bar, her light-colored outfit shocked him to a gasp.

“Hey there,” said Igna, “-I trust you’ve heard her sing.”

“I did,” he sniffled, “-the new rendition of Save the World is beautiful. The emotions are there for the world to hear, I can’t express my joy. I thought Aceline died so many years ago, there she is,” he slid off the stool, “-in flesh and blood,” he knelt, “-I’m so happy right now. As a fan and follower, it truly hurt when the putrid air of Odgawoan sullied a pure idol. Money, fame, and drugs, you fell prey... I’m sorry.”

“No need for dramatics,” said Igna, “-Aceline died, she truly did. Was killed by the mob.”

“-did you?”

“Correct,” they joined for an early afternoon drink, “-I said I was adamant in joining the world of entertainment.”

“Igna’s too complicated for his own good,” voiced Aceline, “-long story short, we’re going to start a band. I want to take back what I lost, and for that,” she crossed arms with Igna, “-I’ll ally with my friend.”

“Acquaintances?” the brows furrowed.

“Yes,” they replied harmoniously, “-We go way back,” a shared smile relieved Amsey’s nerves.

“Igna,” a dash for the shoulders startled him and the idol, “-I need you,” he begged, “-join my agency, join Ansoft. I thought I could get away and be smug,” a glance to Aceline showed the uncertainty, “-many of the idols have opted out of re-signing contracts... we’re out of options, I’m out of options.”

‘Checkmate.’