The Wielder of Death Magic

Igna casually dusted his shoulders, pressed his lips, and narrowed the eyes, a few blinks confirmed what he’d done, the street headed north was destroyed beyond belief. No sign of tarmac nor manmade structure, remainder being the moist inside of the earth. There, he moved to the precipice of where the spell activated, a ‘V-shape’ crevasse of apex being Igna’s tiptoeing over the edge, expanded the devastation. ‘-Now that’s a spell,’ he smiled, pleased by the results. A sigh turned the figure towards the hallow-faced Athena, her gray-colored eyes and stern reaction remained still, time around her froze. He strode forth, leaned, gathered the pistol, pulled on her hands, dropped Tharis, turned around, snapped, and chanted a few words. A menacing rumble burst, reality fractured in before her eyes, the broken roads and sign of battle faded, the damage whisked till the gentle rumble of the present storm.

Droplets splashed across her open arms, Athena blinked and watched. No matter the thought gathered or action the body wished to make, she stood still, unable to act. Igna observed and shuffled to her side, casually resting on the car bonnet, “-Lady Athena, seems to me demons decided to attack.”

“Yes, demons,” she replied after much strife, “-how did you?”

“A simple spell really.”

“Devastation of such proportions isn’t simple...”

“I understand the confusion,” he pointed at Tharis, “-and I’m even more so ashamed. You risked your life to save me, conjuring the Aegis shield and summoning spears. Brings me to joy a goddess moved to protect the one who caused her woe.”

.....

“Stop,” she sighed, “-I’ve fallen from my position of power,” arm held to the stars, “-look,” she painfully watched, Igna joined, the symbol of power grew timid in vibrance, her presence wavered, the more time elapsed, the greater grew her human side. Rain flooded the street, “-we’re even.”

“Pardon?”

“You saved me.”

“Nonsense,” he interjected, “-Lady Athena, thou art not saved until thy rightful return to thy throne.”

“Sadly, dear, the only way I return is if we went to war against the heavens. Between the gods and angels, whomst resides in the upper realm – not to mention the alliance with demons; heaven’s gate is perhaps even more so guarded. And to think, I once controlled the heavenly forces.”

“Goddess Athena, if war is what thee wish,” he turned and stared her squarely, “-war is what thee’ll get,” the intimate closeness reddened her already flushed nose and cheeks, she felt every breath he exhaled, “-besides,” the tension broke, “-you made a deal with the devil,” he chuckled, “-your problem is my problem.”

Rain’s torrent crashed, Igna and Athena found themselves on the road towards Rosespire. In a similar glumness, Athena carried her emotions to the raising the next day. The castle sparkled in action, gears churned with exception to the King’s input, he remained held within the inner-palace behind a piano. Alcohol to the side, he drank and played, Vanesa ate breakfast and watched television.

A simple and beautiful melody hung in the air; much effort was placed on straining notes. A thud shattered the simplistic balance of melody and silence, “-Igna,” an expensively dressed gentleman ran into the room, “-why aren’t you in charge of the war?”

“Emperor Markus,” he returned, “-a pleasant surprise. How are the baby and my big sister?”

“They’re in the dining hall, the babe cries for food. Enough about me,” he shook the head and rode into Igna’s face, “-what about the revolution, what about the war? I thought it’d be handled by now...”

Calm under the assault, Igna but watched, “-don’t remain silent. We need to answer to the people, the alliance is a big-”

“Markus,” he interjected, “-the alliance is signed. Far as the people are concerned, those who want to cause a ruckus, will do so at their own leisure. The new leadership must be mutually respectful,” he inched forward and lowered the voice, “-between you and me, Alphia’s leadership isn’t very united. By rank, the Imperial family looms over our head – the pressure’s felt by my trustworthy companions. éclair’s taking much of the unsavory concoction from selfish ministers in thy court. The revolution won’t end easily. I can decree the revolution’s traitors and sanction their deaths. Yet, a genocide...”

“Speak no more,” the speech slowed, “-I apologize.”

“No need,” he returned, “-I strongly suggest focusing on the newborn. Head on home, brother, the plane’s ready for departure. No use staying in a possible dangerous area. I’ll need the ambassador to be present no later than next week.”

“She’s on her way here,” he gestured, “-Loftha’s got insight which proves useful against the revolution.”

The outline faded into the distant halls, Igna threw back the drink and played. Heels echoed till where he sat, “-who was that dashing man?” asked a coyly dressed vixen.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Lady Athena...” head in his palm, “-I said to fit in, not play femme-fatale. A virtuous goddess is best suited for worship...”

“Really?” a sigh emptied the weight on her shoulder. She skipped a few steps, reached for the counter, poured a very strong drink, and downed it akin to dwarves, “-here I spent hours stalking Serene...”

“Bad idea,” he returned, “-Serene’s personality is less than-”

“-Less than what?” froze a passive-aggressive hum.

“See what I mean?” he shrugged and signaled for another drink. Serene coldly scanned him top-to-bottom.

“Here,” she leaned seductively, “-a message from Julius. We’re headed to Dorchester,” she winked and vanished into the bat-shaped mist.

“See?”

“See what?” narrowed Athena.

“Her cleavage and purposeful seductive hue. It’s hard to breathe when she’s in her seductive mood. She is one of the very few I’d hate to argue against. That woman’s scary, very, very, scary.”

“What should I do then?” they sat side-by-side at the piano, “-fitting in is hard.” In the same area, a priestess passed across the windows, her hands pressed in prayer and attention on chants and muffled worship.

“I know,” he gulped, “-how about a nun?”

“A sister?”

“Yes, you’ll be praying to yourself?”

“Is this a joke?”

“It’s a good idea...”

“Praying to myself...” she facepalmed, “-sounds wrong on so many levels. Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Great, I was wanting to add a lady of worship to my circle. Until the issue of power is resolved, lady Athena, thou art be the Apostle of lady Athena.”

“Minerva,” she said.

“Minerva,” he confirmed.

A phone call or so later, a group of devout nuns arrived in mass and knelt at her feet. Athena cautiously flung glances at Igna who but had his hand in prayer at her, “-hear me, o’ sisters of faith to the powerful goddess of Wisdom and Warcraft, Athena. We, humble walkers on the mortal realm have the honors of welcoming the true Apostle of Lady Athena, Priestess Minerva. Her claim is legitimate and her voice pure, please,” he said, “-present them with the shield of Aegis, sanctify thy claim.”

‘What scheme...’ before thoughts manifested, Igna sneered smugly. The walls around Athena crumbled, ‘-the devil...’ therein, the golden shield summoned, the nuns had risen their hands in prayer – such as the arrival of Priestess Minerva, the true Apostol of the patron goddess of Glenda.

A simple call to Alta and the situation was handled. By Ardanian standard – each village or settlement had their claim on worshipping any deity they wished. One could say, part of how a settlement is recognized. Village crests often incorporate the crests used by sects. It didn’t take much time to firm Athena as patron goddess. Whiskey in one hand, he watched as the goddess was taken, on the way out, she made meaningful glances at Igna in a way to say, ‘-you’re on my watchlist.’

*Ding,* a notification snapped, “-murder in Rotherham,” read the title, ‘-murder?’

*Incoming call – Lady Elvira,* “-Igna,” he said.

“Good,” relief washed her voice, “-Igna, take the first train to Rotherham.”

“What happened?”

“Yui will transfer additional information.”

He rose from the piano and stared at Vanesa, the latter had her face deep in a bowl of cereal, “-pops?”

“Put on some clothes, we’re going out.”

After éclair’s request to stay from politics, there wasn’t much to focus on. Athena’s arrival felt more but a hurdle to skip, her presence meant the situation beyond the mortal realm grew tediously dangerous. ‘-I don’t feel rage or anger,’ he thought whilst in the shadow, ‘-her arrival made me feel sort of peaceful. Calming, to say the least. There’s so much happening and so little I have to do. Being king’s nothing special,’ he flashed his face, ‘-just sit and order people. I’ll have to source my fun someplace else.’ The clock struck 10:40, Igna and Vanesa were dressed and ready for departure. A simple toggle the presence faded from the public’s attention – the castle boomed frantically, a pleasant sound of advancement and woe, some ravel in the bliss of profit, others wallow in their losses.

An hour or so later, Igna stood before one of the three skyscrapers. Far as the public was concerned, nothing happened. Security was on high alert, “-young master,” bowed one of the guards, “-lady Elvira’s inside.” Continuing on the given path led to a grand hall. Stairs carried onto the other floors, elevators were cupped in the center, shy after a chandelier. An entourage of stern expressions emanated an aura of ‘do not enter,’ blocked access to an employee-only area. An equally tense frown deluded the guard’s showmanship, the circle broke and allowed entry to a backroom.

He entered – air ducts were shut, the atmosphere felt dense, spiderwebs coated the walls and lockers. The victim, a lady in relatively good shape, had her head smacked against one of the lockers. Blood splatter had a different, ominous pattern.

“Igna,” gestured lady Elvira, “-you’re here,” she hurried to his side.

“Good to see you, auntie. What happened?”

“A murder,” she said.

“Where’s law enforcement?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t call on law enforcement, the matter extends into a matter of the royal family’s security.”

“Pardon?”

“The web, can’t you see?”

“Hold on,” on close inspection of the victim, “-Laura...” he knelt at her disfigured face, “-the guard to Lizzie. Where’s she?”

“Lizzie is fine,” reassured Elvira, multiple footsteps barged into the room – Seiran, Laurance, and Rile, personal guards to the princess, “-Laura,” muffled Laurance dressed in black hidden under a hood. They made way to the deceased, “-idiot...” gritted Seiran, “-who did this?” the nightwalker whipped toward Igna and Elvira, her anger rattled the room.

“We don’t know,” returned Elvira.

“Don’t,” said Rile holding Seiran’s hand, “-causing a mess won’t help anyone.”

“Where’s Lizzie,” fired Igna, “-where’s she?”

“Outside,” returned Rile, “-we rushed soon as we heard Laura...”

“Right,” Igna moved deeper into the room, “-everyone, out,” he gestured, “-since we’re not involving the police, tis a matter pertaining to the underworld?”

“...” Lady Elvira kept her mouth closed, she forcefully refrained from answering questions. Laurance, despite the composed image, stormed his way to Elvira, there, guards leaped forth to halt the advance, guns were drawn on one side, spells were manifested on the other, Rile bore his claw as did Seiran, Laurance had treads around the guard’s neck who in turn had their guns on the trio.

*Clap,* the spells disenchanted, the mana wavered, a pull of the index flung the weapons across the room, “-look at you,” he said, “-Laura’s dead and the blame games already started. Stand down,” he ordered.

“No...”

“Seiran, I’m not asking, I’m ordering you to stand down,” he glared.

“I answer to princess Lizzie, she’ll be devastated... Elvira called Laura here, she knows why she died.”

“Even so, stand-” Laurance resummoned his treads and cleanly slit the hands of Elvira’s guards, “-I don’t care,” he jumped and summoned a poison-filled needle, “-my sister’s dead because of her.”

“STOP IT!” a bright light pushed each party back, musical notes fluttered from Lizzie’s multicolored aura, “-Laurance, Seiran, Rile... don’t.”

.....