The Wielder of Death Magic

An information blackout meant no sufficient support from the outside. The Emperor saw best to limit knowledge to the land of dreams. Alphians needed to keep their expectation high, and not face the reality of what a shame it was.

Hope wasn’t far. The reinstated AHA, aided by big firms, bonded to form a temporal barrier. Monster invasions were frequent and hard. Experience of battle at Whuotan, against monsters, prevented further casualties.

“Wake Voraum, the day has settled for the night.”

“Pesky Kazalon, what brings you to my rest area?”

“The birds, Voraum, the birds.”

“The dead one I refer?”

.....

“Yes.”

Military outposts after Fuda Mountains shut, no questions asked. The mountain faces were surreal, at night and day, the perpetual fear of attack lingered. Here, tucked away behind the first range of the mountain range, camped two otherworldly beings. Voraum, a somewhat humanoid figure, to be pleasant. A true description would be shadows surrounding a stickman figure, no heads, instead, an upside-down metal bucket, two beady lights to mark eyes. Next, Kazalon, a mangled mess of sea creatures supported by tentacles. Claws of a crab, head of a shark, and the rest being a guessing game. The appearance fluctuated; for the sake of not looking like an idiot, Voraum and demons alike, referred to the beast by his name.

“Say, tell me, Voraum, what did the master ask?” a surprising normal fire burnt.

“I don’t know,” echoed the voice, each work expulsed mist down the bucket, “-as assistant to our lord, we mustn’t get complacent.”

“I know. Don’t repeat what I know,” he snatched the uncooked birds and ate, “-Lord Cimi doesn’t like a battle.”

“Yeah, I know,” more mist gathered at his feet, “-the duty says to observe the mortal races. My minions have gathered much, this realm brims with mana, we’re close to Creation. Mana is abundant, the rupture was quite a shock to us. For the first time in ages,”

“-We can walk free from the punishment of our grandmaster.”

“Let’s go, we need information.”

Backpedal to the prior battlezone and the reinforcements stand sternly. Road traffic detoured and completely boycott the northern part of town. The equivalent of adventurers, per Alphian standard, were Sultrians, humans with super-human abilities. No use of mana, instead, the evolution of genes. Despite their numbers, the true abilities able to save and help people are few. Only a handful make it to the title of Hero, regardless, the ones not acknowledged by the AHA, are known by the simple moniker of Vigilante.

“Welcome to the gathering of Sultrian. I’m sure the pleasure is yours,” notes and files dropped on the desk with a loud crash. Countless men and women stared the front, the atmosphere resembled the start before a presentation. Chatter and inattentiveness diffused. The speaker, a man in a black suit, bore a stern expression through the rigidly square forehead. An uncleaned stubble exuded seriousness. “-Another bunch of weaklings,” murmurs silenced the crowd in a belligerent manner. “-Listen up, Vigilante, many of you are new to the situation here. I don’t know why the brass would allow these much to come here. If my tone isn’t clear enough, I hate each and every one of you with a passion. While I’m at it, here’s my name – Brand. The manager of the Scaica’s western division. It means I’m in charge of the heroes who come and go into Odgawoan,” animosity grew, he paused and glanced the first row, eight seats of which four were empty. “-Trafall...” the arms crossed audaciously to a few taps of the index, “-TRAFALL!”

“Here, don’t shout.”

“Where’s Orisia and her team?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged,”-man, cut the bull already. My team is on break, it’s not the time to play house.”

“Whatever. Koft, Strema, and Glacia, stand up and show the Vigilante who they have to aspire to.”

“Stand up team,” the nonchalant Trafall, an average joe, by all means, yawned at the crowd, “-I don’t need to introduce myself, do I?” The response said no, they knew as did part of Alphia. Trafall, an average man on the surface, has the ability to evolve his body into a metal suit, he can reproduce any machinery and implement it into his body.

“-‘Ello people, the name’s Koft,” the standard superhero with heightened ability. Cliché to some extent, true is, people with said ability are very sought after.

“Strema,” smiled the next, a boy barely of age inherited the ability to control puppets. The scale starts from figurines to behemoths.”

“Glacia,” whispered the last, the twin sister of the fallen hero, Snowflake. Her ability, precognition.

“There you have it, Vigilantes, the heroes who you’ll never surpass. They’re the best of the best.”

“Can we leave?” interjected Trafall.

“Yeah, go on.”

“As I was saying. Don’t ever compare to them, you’ll die needlessly. Each of you will be assigned to one of the eight heroes. Did I mention how the AHA works?”

“No,” returned the crowd.

“Damn, should have started with that. Alright, here’s the deal, bunnies. The Alliance is supervised by a board of directors. Below them, the Faction Managers, split into North, South, East, and West. The latter two are in charge of the main province, Scaica. After the managers, we have the Heroes who aren’t ranked, once a certain criterion is reached, the company sends a congratulation, you’ve done it, type of letter. Don’t get your hopes up; Vigilantes die easily,” a pause settled the disrespectful waves, “-don’t want to die, get out right now. Else, stay and have the chance to earn mediocre money and live through constant danger. That’s the price to become strong, and I mean it.”

“The hunting hour begins,” stated Koft. “What you think, Glacia, the bunnies going to survive the night?”

“I don’t care,” she murmured and simply left.

“Trafall, what about you-” he spun and bit his tongue, “-Yeah, no, not going to happen.” The man was off on the prowl for nightly companions.

“Strema?”

“I’m not legal, goodbye,” the feeblish figure vaulted off the flyover and onto a quadruped something, ‘-Is that a table, yeah, I’ve seen it all tonight, that’s definitely a table,’ the boy surfed into the neon-display of the nightlife.

‘Bunnies,’ elbows to the railing, ‘-I sure hope they don’t die, the moon is out, one of those two might play. Trafall’s babysitting. About the time I head to sleep,’ muscles tensed, *woosh,* nothing.

As stated prior by the blood-king’s faction, anyone who held lands after the war will hold onto said property no matter their station. Well, after the return to Glenda, let’s say, the clan leaders weren’t pleased. Ritenoot, undoubtedly another pillar in the chain of trades, was held by the viscount. The town hall held representatives from Ritenoot. Igna sat nonchalantly in the lounge with a cup of coffee. Flash images of Lord Death phased in and out, “-Nephew.”

“Aunt?” he sipped, “-pleasure to welcome thee again.”

“You’re a handful,” she exhaled. The date showed the 25th.

“You flatter me,” he chuckled, “-has lady mother arrived?”

“She’s on her way here,” she narrowed suspiciously.

“Igna,” the door barged open, “-I was told you attacked Ritenoot?”

“Lord Alaric. Please be seated, I shall clarify the misconceptions in due time. We wait on the Duchess of Rotherham,” leaned to Alta, “-please see to it the arrangements are completed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

A luxurious jeep soon arrived; the astounding townsfolks wasted no time in spreading rumors. Gossip of important personages in Glenda rose many o’ brows. Julius was excited to open the door for Duchess Courtney. Meanwhile, on the other side, Eira excited to open the door for Shanna Islegust, and Princess Lizzie. Important personage, a very undermined statement.

“-I-Igna?” stuttered Aurora.

“Clan leader of Nox, please pay no heed to the windows. The guests shall soon arrive. Let’s take the meeting up a level,” cup to the table, the snacks returned to the lavishly dressed trays. Town-hall assistants led the way to the council room.

“Why are we here?”

“No idea, we were summoned.”

“Ritenoot?”

“No clue, some say the viscount has returned from Oxshield, the mood seems apathetic. Perhaps negotiations went wrong?” only suggestions went round in circles, no definite cause of the matter could be deduced.

“Preparations have been made,” said Alta.

“Good, time has come to close curtains on Arda’s sufferance.”

Clan members, council members, representatives of the guilds were seated first. Second the guests; Duchess of Rotherham, the first princess, second prince, third princess, and the previous monarch, queen Shanna. Major players gathered before a relatively ‘weak’ viscount.

“Good afternoon. Words have no say in how grateful I feel to gather such an entourage of important figures. I’ll cut to the chase and begin,” curtains dropped, the automatic light-activated, emphasis was on him. “-I’ve conquered the castle town Ritenoot. As stated before, any conquest kept until the end of the war, shall be rewarded to the victor. Politics on the matter should be clear as water. I only want to reinforce my claim. Who am I to decide?” a well-timed pause allowed for questions to simmer. “The reason we’ve gathered is for a formal announcement. Per the rights granted by the crest of Arda and position of representative of the Blood-King’s faction, I, on behalf of her majesty, Queen Gallienne, formally decree, Duchess of Rotherham, Courtney Haggard, to be granted the title of Queen of Arda and its associated land.”

‘-What?’ her face paled, Elvira allowed a ‘holy shit,’ to escape. The focus turned to the speechless duchess.

“I know the news is sudden, and the choice would have been best suited to either Prince Julius or Princess Lizzie. My task was to secure a viable future for Arda and tis the best outcome. Fear not,” the screen flashed gagged faces of various nobles inside a torture room, “-with help from Princess Eira, my stewardess Alta, and a few other companions, were able to ascertain conspiring nobles and strip their ranks. The crests, a symbol of their power, rests in this coffer. We created a clean slate for the province’s reform. Princess Eira, if you’d please.”

“We all know the story of how I turned sides. I betrayed many and have returned to make amends. If not for Igna, Arda would have been left to fester the essence of evil. Shames me to say, Arda was only strong in the Blood King’s reign. We can’t turn back time, which is why I hope for the Duchess to accept my selfish request. Tis a springboard for the union of the Argashield Federation. The conditions have been met. What remains is for I, future Empress of Alphia, to remedy the alliance between both rulership.”

Finer details continued hours on end. Questions were answered strongly and logically. Many of which were at the Duchess’s ability to be the monarch.

Dawn blew over the horizon, the council room emptied save a few members.

“Viscount Igna Haggard, might I have a word?” thundered across.

“Mother, I apologize for suddenly springing such news. I implored Queen Gallienne to relay her side of the story. Her jestful nature proclaimed for I to surprise.”

“She’s like that. Igna, you’ve truly amazed us today. I didn’t expect the princess to be part of Arda after such a mess. Look at them, the royal family is joyful.”

‘So much for not getting involved,’ he escaped to the secluded roof, ‘-they congratulated us for a job well done. I’m glad it’s over; my head hurts. The clan leaders said for Ritenoot to be granted to another noble, instead, they’d grant me land equal to said town around Glenda. Alta’s filling the paperwork. I’m tired.’

“Master, éclair speaking, Hades’ minions are the invaders of Alphia.”