The Wielder of Death Magic

“Tell me Xen, why are you here?”

“I told you, I wanted to see a master’s work.”

“No,” she turned and winked, the mask further darkened her visage, only her bicolored pupils watched in the dark, the long lashes were reminiscent of a feline, a fierce hunter, “-why are you at the castle?”

“Came to interview,” he replied, casually avoiding her suspicion, before arrival, a report splattered over the interface, the playful éclair had an arrangement made for the note to be sexily delivered by a generated figure of a woman. She catwalk from the side and slammed the note, after which a chat-bubble rose, “-read,” she leaned into an air kiss.

A mild exhale dismissed éclair’s jests, ‘-interesting character – Lessie, cousin to Old Cray. Nothing else is known save her intervention in dire situations. Always present in earnestly serious situations – a cautionary tale told by Scorpio follows, ‘-Lady Lessie is scarier than Old Cray. Many say she’s the real leader, whilst the king is to be a puppet. It’s well known, Old Cray’s kingdom has a talented spymaster, the identity is yet to be known. Put one and one together, and a seemingly succulent mystery is served.’

“Sure,” she narrowed, slowing her pace till shoulder to shoulder with Xen, her height wasn’t much impressive, her head reached shy of his chest, the ominous mask and exclusive tattoos, only just noticed on her arms and neck, gave a sense of familiarity.

.....

“You don’t believe me?”

“I never mention anything of the sorts.”

“Oh, don’t play games,” he wailed, “-there’s a hundred reason why you’d be suspicious. I would be, imagine a random person suddenly enters your home and makes contact with important personnel, therein lays the doubt itself.”

“I had my doubts,” she motioned to lock-arms, a request Igna obliged. The non-caring gesture brought a smile, though it went unnoticed by the mask, “-not now, you’re clean.”

“Pardon?”

“The private space,” she said, “-I asked for a gesture and you obliged, for all narrative purposes, I could have had a knife.”

“There,” the other hand moved and flicked her forehead, “-infiltrating a person’s personal space isn’t so hard,” he smiled, “-be charismatic and bombard the person with smiles, take their attention from the surroundings, in a way, there’s a method to guilt the subconscious onto accepting advances. Kind gestures and keen understanding.” Annoyance or boredom, a pensive matter glazed her eyes cold.

‘Might have pushed it,’ the mind readied for a moment’s fight, “-are you alright?” they stopped, her eyes turned scope, fixing itself on him.

“Sorry,” they resumed walking, “-I thought someone was eavesdropping.”

“Spying?” he followed her line to a dark tunnel intersecting against their paths. Within said land rose the whispers of death, “-curious.”

“No, annoying,” the eyes rolled, “-let’s go, the tour, I need to show my latest creation.”

“Lead the way,” her lock tugged, and he obliged, ‘-the tunnel, we’re being followed, she knows, her glare wasn’t random.’

Amber lit coal, a furnace – a domed roof and arrangement of peculiarly inventions, “-welcome to my workshop,” she skipped to the middle and proudly pulled a needle, *snap,* the heavy door locked, “-Xen,” she pulled her mask to an unharmed smile, her lips and skin were undamaged, different from the scars around her eye, “-you know why I wear my mask?” she motioned to remove the heavy hoodie, “-cousin says I have a nasty expression when I’m aroused,” her cheeks flushed, the curtain rose, exposing seductive undergarments. The smirk, midway between sadistic and provoking, small steps carried to Igna’s face, her hands clenched his waist, her chin rose to rest on his muscled chest, the long lashes flashed.

‘-too bad,’ disturbance in the mana heightened the spatial awareness, ‘-three, two, one,’ *CRASH,* the door exploded, a piece of wood flung to take Igna’s ear, instant knockout. He fell harshly, forehead against hard floor, a contest the former never won.

Lessie leaped backward and fired needles from her open palm, the stranger rose a hand, or what seemed to be a hand on the monstrously disfigured appearance. “-You,” it muddled, “-hurt,” the powerful legs crackled the floor.

“Still alive?” she exhaled, ‘-summoning more takes my strength away,’ she panted, ‘-my body is not recovered,’ *huff, puff,* ‘-fine,’ forcing a stance, her wrist twirled – the first attack wasn’t random for it impaled the attacker’s mobility. Blade-shape manifestations surrounded the entity. It soon flung punches, the resultant force carried air-blasts, purely physical attacks abled to weaponize the air, “-be skewed,” the manifestations toggled not after the attacker lobbed its feet, thrusting itself forward. *Snap,* the hand made contact, bones shattered, “-not on my watch,” gritted Xen, hand in hand against the beast. It clenched and slowly broke the fingers as if twigs, the monstrous strength forced him onto one knee, ‘-holding back isn’t doing any favors,’ the eyes narrowed, ‘-who the hell’s the attacker?’

“Xen,” arms suddenly locked around his waist, “-I’m sorry,” she said, “-I wanted to show off my creations... that there is the dungeon guardian...’ the words pointed to a horrifying truth, a flicker shone light upon the dark-figure, revelation – limbs and faces merged into a single entity, “-it must have felt threatened...”

“Telling me this, now?” he broke, the force forced the second knee, “-crazy chicks are always trouble,” he inhaled and locked the airways, ‘-burn deeply, the curse of the Nox’s clan,’ the heart exploded in pace, ‘-show me why nightwalkers were shunned by both gods and demons, show me the latent prowess the first progenitor bestowed,’ edges reddened, the pressure around the extremities heated, “-next time, warn me,” feet locked, he pushed and fought the monstrous strength – the muscles strained, charge blood from the curse lit in scarlet. A cocoon of crimson covered his body, he pushed, broke the grip, “-bon voyage,” a lightning-fast fist blasted the guardian’s mess of a face against the ceiling – he tumbled from the resultant force, a lock pulled his body into balance.

“I got you,” she said.

“Not now,” he broke the grip, the guardian had yet to be bested, the form altered, ‘-if I try hard enough,’ the stance lowered into hand-to-hand combat, ‘-nothing is impossible,’ the eyes shut, ‘-light from my darkened past, skills acquired through the years of slaughter, manifest thineself,’ the surroundings swapped to the middle of nowhere, consciousness hovered above an endless pool of sea, he looked down and jumped, the water tension crackled and broke, the remainder being crystalline powder – multiple frames rose from the ashes, they hovered, the sense of balance disrupted, there laid no up or down, no forward or backward, same went for left or right, ‘-raise from the ashes,’ the landscape swallowed into a tiny-dot, the implosion echoed a shockwave. Complete emptiness, white and symmetrically division of the ground, perfect squares – a colorless mount rose at his feet, over it hovered Orenmir. The sheathed flung, leaving the blade and gathering mass of dust, the semi-transparent mass turned liquid, drowning the entire area in a mess of solid shadow. From it, a circle carrying a rectangle levied, the single unit diversified, breaking into multiple personages, ‘-those I’ve killed,’ the whiteness vanished into an army of thousands, hundreds of thousands, life essence from three lives gathered into a single dot, ‘-here lays my power,’ he reached and grabbed the light, ‘-absorption of skill and abilities,’ he clenched, ‘-such is the way of Alfred,’ the veins around the wrist bloated and carried the assimilated raw-power through the neck and throughout the body, ‘-give me the knowledge and awareness of martial-combat.’

He reopened into the battlefield, ‘-a similar sensation before I use Orenmir,’ he dropped into a subtle and powerful stance, ‘-right,’ the crimson cocoon altered to a tempest of red erupting out his body, ‘-if I can’t use magic, can’t use my sword or gun,’ the breathing steadied, ‘-I’ll turn myself into a weapon.’

*DIE,* said the guardian, the damaged face healed – multiple arms exploded from its belly, a line kept the connection, the limbs had their targets in sight. A volley of punches, some missed, others blocked, razed the chamber, a stray attack accidentally landed next to Lessie, her heart skipped, ‘-what happened?’ fear had her feet glued, a bludgeoned mess of organs laid at her feet inside a fissure, ‘-I never saw the attack,’ she coughed.

‘This guy isn’t normal,’ he dodged, compared to other fights, those dodges were untrained and effective due to the reaction speed, the awareness almost covered for bad stances, the matter changed when it came to a swordfight. There laid a reluctance in using martial arts, walking the path of the fist meant forsaking the sword – two different aspirations, sometimes conflicting and sometimes identical. ‘I’m getting adjusted,’ he skipped and twirled, rolling off slow and powerful strikes into counters of his own, the punches rattled the extended fists. ‘Alfred’s scary because of the envy and jealousy, what he can’t have he’ll make himself,’ the stance refocused, ‘-the ultimate combination, access to the memories of the death and the ability to decrypt the memories and assimilate their skills. Works the same to when I learned to play guitar or the piano, never thought I’d use it on souls.’ The volleys increased, the impacts weakened the structural integrity, ‘-the fight’s going nowhere,’ he blocked and countered, used the arts taught in military and law-enforcements – the vastness was yet another reason why he didn’t yield the sword, *smack,* a punch escaped and took his stomach, the body snapped against the ceiling, ‘-caught it,’ he braced using the legs, ‘-I was waiting,’ he sprang, forming a bright red envelope – the monster’s fists gathered into a barrier, “-NOT TODAY,” the defense shattered and tore a hole through the monster.

“Huff, puff,” heavy pants trembled his palms, ‘-I did it,’ he waited on all-fours, the guardian shattered the same as a strained elastic ball being cut, each bang snapped – and so did the collection. The red tinge subsided, ‘-lightheaded,’ the balance shook, ‘-must have used the blood as raw power,’ he gasped, ‘-regeneration,’ the arms lost the strength. He softly rolled onto his back, ‘-might have gone overboard,’ the depth of the crater wasn’t a good sign, ‘-I need blood,’ fingers grappled the ground, *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary,* jagged lines permeated in cold-red around the area. Any mention of blood swallowed instantly, ‘-not enough,’ nausea and a headache took their toll.

“Xen,” the blurry sight laid upon a wounded Lessie, “-take my hands, the room’s about to collapse.”

‘My eyes,’ he flinched, ‘-the glasses are broken,’ slow and steady, the fabric and mana-waves burned brightly, “-MY EYES,” he yelped and burrowed from her hands, ‘-too much pain,’ he gritted, “-E-E-Ec-cl,” shutting them made no difference, ‘-the price of using my abilities,’ spoke an ominous voice, ‘-dearest reincarnation of me, fret not, I speak in peace, my duty lays to fulfill thy wish.’ *AHHHH,* he screamed.

“XEN, XEN,” she slid to where he cowered, “-I’m here,” she held his head.

“THE LIGHT,” tears of blood shed, “-I CAN’T!”

‘A boon of true sight,’ the decapitated heads of Staxius, Origin, Lord Death, Kronos, Nike, and Scifer laid in a row, ‘-they gave their lives to merge into who we are now. Igna Haggard, you existed as a vessel – a soul forsaken for being a mistake. We’re all the same, in your hearts of heart lays their wishes, and most of all, their protection. Accept the boon of true sight, accept the blindness, accept the truth – long as you reject the powers, their faith art be betrayed.’

“The boon won’t make me blind,” he bit his lips.

“XEN!” she urged to stop the self-harm.

Blood drained from the nose and ears, “ALFRED, WE ARE THE SAME!”