The Wielder of Death Magic

“Igna, Igna,”

“Where are you?”

“Igna?”

“Big brother?”

“Little pest?”

“Little pest?” the forehead crinkled, “-Aunt Elvira...”

.....

“Any idea?” wondered Julius.

“Call him,” said Eira.

“No need,” he leaped off the roof, “-what’s the matter, can’t I have a rest?”

“No rest for you,” Courtney shook her fingers, “-boy, we have much to discuss.” The somewhat silent backyard dismantled before his eyes. The close entourage of important figures sneakily guided him up the stairs, night fully settled as did the backdoor.

Not long after, a helicopter arrived for the Duchess, lady Elvira, and Shanna. Important matters were told over the phone. Hereon, the town-halls prior capacity eased to only a few. To help against the famine, Igna, on days of idleness, gave lessons on Dungeon Style Cooking. Eating monsters was a strange idea, still, many had tried in desperation. The last lesson ended on a simple spell, Monster Affliction, an incantation abled to prevent a monster corpse from disappearing. Alta handled most matters with flare and commendable stride. Her entourage grew by the addition of the traveler he met on the road.

‘Oh crap, I forgot about Aceline and the other.’ The next day rose in the company of a loud engine, the unconscious Eira, Julius, and Lizzie awoke to a change of scenery. “What’s this?”

“We’re in Rotherham,” said Igna, “-I asked for éclair to hitch us a ride. You three were sound asleep, a little teleportation seamlessly helped us home.” The private runway held a few more planes readied to takeoff. The morning began at the sound of transported cargo. “Not to be a pain, big sister, you ought to leave for Alphia right away. I heard things aren’t looking great. Best be at his side and firm the vows of marriage. I doubt the latter to be public,” he grasped her hand, “-congratulations and good luck on the new life, Empress.”

“Drop the title,” her cheeks flushed, “-we’re still family, don’t forget it,” one arm wrapped around Igna whilst the other invited Julius and Lizzie, “-come ‘ere.”

“Good luck, big sister,” said Julius, “-I hope you have a great life.”

“Same here,” smiled the slightly taller Lizzie, “-have fun.”

“I will,” she stepped away, “-Igna, truly, thank you for everything, I can finally face the future without regret.”

“Keep the gratitude, I’ll require a few favors soon, trust me.”

The silvery hair swayed, “-I’ll be waiting,” her arm rose to Staxius’s signature gesture. One moment present, the next, disappeared before a passing cargo relay cart.

“Cousin, I’m glad you were here.”

“Don’t mention it, Igna. I’ll head to the agency. You ghosted Aceline, she won’t be happy.”

“Tell me about it,” and there he left hand in hand with Lizzie.

‘I can finally breathe a sigh of relief,’ the sleeping Vanesa showed no inkling of motion. ‘-Time to head out.’ Once again, he stood solemnly in the company of his shadow. The trip proved useful in countless ways. Settled on an early promenade, the would-be hot sun but smiled coyly behind clouds.

Paint to the right, paint to the left, a dirtied unbuttoned white shirt floated about a focused artist buff body. Sculptures, statues, and paintings layered one above the other. An ajar window gave onto a foggy back alley. Footsteps ambered onto the polished floored corridor. A knock immediately reached for the handle, *click,* “-I’ve brought breakfast.”

“Set it on the table.”

“Come on, you haven’t eaten anything since last night. I don’t care if the body is godly, taste the food, it’s awesome.”

“Nike,” a harsh side-glance, “-I need to prove my worth to that brat. I can’t standby and allow for the work to be deemed trash. My pride as the goddess of arts and craft stands on the line.”

“Whatever dude. I tried to be a good friend... the straightforward approach is the reason why you’re still a virgin.”

“EXCUSE YOU?” he coughed, “-the hell you mean?”

“Chill, it’s obvious.”

“Nike,” a tone of shock baffled the room, “-have I heard such vulgar words from the mouth of a goddess?”

“Look down, we’re not goddesses anymore. We’re men, and I personally enjoy the chance of pace. No more being tactful, I can say whatever the hell I want. Besides,” he skipped closer, “-thousands of years and not even once have you enjoyed the what the carnal pleasures have to offer.”

“Stop, I don’t care for such trivial matters. True the gender has changed – however, I won’t be prey to the vices of the mortal realm.”

“Boring.”

‘What’s his problem,’ frowned Thena, ‘-I choose to be chaste. Besides, I won’t so much care for the other gender. Focus on the paintings, I swore to have the boy sing my praise.’

Another pair of footsteps echoed along the corridor, one of which was drowned by the cacophony of morning shows. Feet on the table and snacks in hand, Thena’s repulsed glance at Nike’s laughter bore no response. The footsteps closed the gap till the door.

*Knock, knock,*

“Someone’s at the door,” cried Thena.

“Answer it then,” replied Nike.

“DUDE I’M PAINTING.”

“You’re close to the door. Move your arse and open it.”

“Such insolence...” a click of the tongue later, “-who is it?” the door pushed ajar.

“Your landlord,” fired Igna, “-let me in,” he stormed in with Vanesa on the back. ‘-A lot of paintings and good ones at that. He’s worked hard, they might be worth a few million on auction.’

“Heh,” he stood proudly, “-see my art?”

“Yeah, cool,” he nodded and made for Nike.

“IGNA!” said distant pleasant screams, “-WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”

‘Are they trying to piss me off?’ the eyes narrowed, ‘-don’t forget, I’, the goddess of wa-‘

“-don’t move,” whispered a spirit, “-I’d earnestly advise for the killing intent to be kept at a minimum.”

“-Who are you?”

“Vengeance, Igna’s guardian spirit.”

“Don’t trouble the artist,” echoed out the room, “-let him paint. We have better things to do.” An elaborate fa?ade to annoy the goddess worked. Soon, he’d drop the paintbrush and stormed the dim room.

‘I SWEAR!” ire in the eyes and stomps in the step. ‘-what?’ the world turned upside down, therein, he spotted Igna glued to the sidewall, ‘-did he trip me?’ *bang,* straight-faced on the couch, ‘-what’s happening?’ the arms wailed and clambered out the dishonorable posture. ‘Nike?’ two blinks and cake plastered across his face.

“Congratulations!” shouted Igna, “-you were successfully reawakened from the trance of hard work.”

“I have a lot of questions,” a dead tone resembled the pace at which the cake slid, “-I’ll ask just one. Why?”

“To celebrate your hard work,” fired Nike. “-I sent daily reports on your progress. Man, you were so annoying during the dry days of inspiration. Always bickering, complaining, it drove me crazy.”

“Really?” he wiped the cream, “-was I that annoying?”

“Yes, totally.”

“There you have it,” added Igna, “-Nike wanted to revive Thena of old, the confident artist, and not endure the insecure mess thee have become.”

“I’m insecure?”

“You reek of it,” added Igna. “-A few weeks in the mortal realm has transformed a goddess into a workaholic. See, we deal with more than the gods can ever imagine. Rather obnoxious on my part,” he shrugged, “-tis how I feel. Which is better, the always happy ideal heaven or a place of unknown outcomes?”

“The latter,” he resettled, “-I was lost in the motions of constantly trying to show how good I was. I guess I lost my way on the path there.”

“Don’t worry,” he patted Thena’s shoulder, “-I took a glimpse and knew what you made are masterpieces. I hope the experience will serve nicely, later on, call it, the struggle of an artist. What was felt is a portion of mortals endure without godly talent and creative feel on the daily. Hard work isn’t guaranteed – many sadly departed artists often leave behind their lifeworks and are never acknowledged. The books, paintings, sculpture, no matter the medium, will be subject to the trial of times and never be seen again.”

The aura swapped, “-I see,” he breathed softly, “-I’ll take the lessons to heart,” a ball of light sparkled above his head, “-well, the journey’s been great, I had fun, I think,” the appearance returned to the almighty goddess, “-duty in the godly realms calls. We’ll meet again, Igna Haggard, we’ll meet again.”

“She’s gone,” said Nike, “-I’ll take my leave as well. Take care, Igna,” and off he teleported to the Shadow Realm. The lonesome room spoke via the news channel, ‘-didn’t expect them to leave so fast,’ a stroll around the room showed plenty o’ paintings, ‘-he really tried to stand out. The gamble paid off, I knew the goddess of art wouldn’t stand criticism. Since she’s neither friend nor foe, had to make her produce as many canvases as she could. I lied,’ he laughed, “-everything she makes is grandiose with her character shining through. The paintings we showed at the auction house were real and fake at the same time. The evaluator was subject to an illusion spell, what he saw was the work of a child, whilst what she saw was her work. My devious nature’s gotten stronger.’ Finger to the earring, “-Hello éclair, could you order around thirty briefcases for canvases of varying sizes?”

“Yes master, I’ll have it delivered.”

Shortly after, workers came in full. A truck parked shy of the hotel – the cases were readied to be taken overseas. A call from Julius postponed the departure. The radio talked about Vorn and their recent success, Xius’s songs played scarcely.

Current location, Apexi’s tower in Rosespire. The gates opened without so much a word. Many vehicles crowded around one of the many studios. The text addressed showed Studio 04. ‘What’s the deal with them?’ the sign read 04. Farther inside, medics were on the sight, yellow tape prevented access.

“éclair, what happened?”

“Someone called an ambulance a few minutes ago. Apparently, they found an unconscious body, no name nor idea on the identity. Many fear a worker died or worse, murdered.”

“Any news on Julius and Aceline?”

“Questioned by the police.”

‘Bad press,’ the lenses toggled to infiltration mode. Names of bystanders arranged in order of importance, race, place of birth, and privileges, ‘-I smell foul play.’

“Vengeance.” The spirit materialized without anyone’s knowledge, “-go investigate the inside. Take out any suspicious-looking men. No killing this time, do I make myself clear?”

“Alright boss,” and off he shuffled through the crowd. Overlooking the perimeter wouldn’t bring many solutions. Instead, he stepped back and made for Julius’s location.

“Do you think it’s a homicide?” chatted investigators.

“No clue at the moment,” replied the older-looking man. A brief exchange of glances separated their paths. “-We have yet to identify the body.”

Through where they left, “Julius, Aceline, are you ok?” the door closed behind.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” replied Julius, “-I’m more worried about the stain it’ll have on our agency.”

.....

“Aceline, are you ok?”

“I guess,” she sniffled, “-investigators sure have a rough way of speaking,” her face showed signs of a common cold. Aside from them, Scott waited beside a water dispenser.

What followed next would redefine the world’s fate. Vengeance calmly arrived at the site of the body, here, a strange aura rose from the unconscious being. Medics were scared to approach the greenscreen area, an invisible barrier rose. ‘-Interesting,’ thought the spirit, ‘-I wonder who it is?’

‘The spell backfired. Such a headache, I shouldn’t have listened to Voraum and Kazalon. Use a wormhole they said. What a pain...’