The Wielder of Death Magic

The following week after said banquette, where none knew how to act, play, or show their cards. Igna took a nice stroll down south, away from the manor he won. The riverbanks shrieked and overflowed by heavy rainfall. Muddied trail rummaged through forest, crossed meadows, skipped grottos, and climbed hills to reach a familiar yet unknown sight. The house, Laurine’s home, stood a little late for its age. More than nature, the work of man had destroyed foundations, stolen material, shattered windows, and stolen precious bricks. A shell of its former glory, the river spilled into the front yard. Igna watched and breathed, hands in his pocket, he stared left to right, scanned up and down, then moved inside. Transformation and exertion of the full strength left marks in purple strain running down the right side – a reflection of the mess laid against his glasses. He watched where laid the last meal Terisa had. Passed the living room, shuffled to the sleeping quarter, and there, under the quietness of dawn, the ajar window waved. ‘-Clean room,’ he threw a smile and rubbed his palms, opened the closet, reached deep inside and pulled a hidden lever. There, a hidden compartment flung by the flick of spring – a leather-covered diary laid unbothered by the contempt of rain against the paper. He knowingly placed the object into the inner blazer pocket and left. The nonchalant gaze locked onto Orn village’s vague direction, the chin trailed right towards the grotto. Alone with his thoughts, he walked – spirits, fearful of the previous show of strength – after much hide and seek, left the shadows and gathered along his shoulder onto the arms and hovered above the head in a halo. If one would look closer, the tiny spirits forming the halo locked arms and danced cheerfully. The unpleasant scent of Alfred and Staxius faded, unpleasant as in strong, horrifying, and stomach-churning.

‘The land of Marinda,’ he wondered, ‘-sure made a big entrance. After éclair and Yui’s ultimatum, I could but send Vanesa to the shadow realm and randomly teleport Loftha and I. I wonder how long it’s been. The attack on the empire hailing from the sea – valkyries and the guardian of Glenda, a Dullahan, were from here, the isle of the mystic. Pulsing the areas revealed many hidden passages, the place is random and unresponsive to normalcy. Magic’s outlawed, or so they say not to harm the isle. They want fear sowed, a good strategy for technologically lacking inhabitants. Celestial and populous, a massive wall of difference raises before both. One side lives in luxury on floating castles made for destruction and the other strives to make ends meet,’ the peerless grotto waved per cast shadow of the foliage’s rustle. The bodies of the attacker were left untouched – one thrown across had his skull cracked on impact. The remainder, dead on the little girl’s arrival, projected the image of being alive from Igna’s ability to control the dead, the zombified hallowed expression motioned to the house. Eventually, on mana exhaustion, they draped the stairs. Igna’s steps soon clopped and waited at the middle, there, he pushed one of the bodies and it toppled – the reek of rot fumed the air. In the near distance, mushrooms took a more avant-garde appearance, they looked menacing and potentially deadly, ‘-taint of the cursed,’ he spotted a faint trail of black sneaking its way hither to said mushrooms.

Inside, by a wave of the fingers, Loftha’s gallantly arranged casque sunk into a pool of black. Essentials followed, and before much longer, as the orangish ray glazed the inky-black forest – the walk brought Igna to the village. People went about their day, some ran for the fields, others made trades to a passing voyager of other villages, none spoke about the incident, and the lecherous Osna Jr, sat at the well, teased little Tania, “-your brother is dead, he was weak. Call the master,” he laughed, the villagers but threw jaded sneers. On brink of tear, Tania pressed her hands, the boys maliciously poke sticks at her arms and leg. “-Going to cry?” inferred the teenager, “-go on, cry so the well fills up,” the gang exploded in laughter.

‘Faint and audible,’ smiled Igna with arms crossed, ‘-looks like Tim taught his siblings the basics of magic. Summoning a spirit takes more than will,’ he judged, ‘-but it’ll do,’ a faintly lit sparkle, broken and injured – guardian of Terisa, shakily made its way to protect the little girl. He rose a finger, an army of spirits rushed her side and lit her body in vivid glow – the sticks burnt, a handmade of water reached from the well and pulled the boy – a loud splash pulled the focus of the bystanders.

“Tania, what are you doing!” cried a strict voice from behind the trader’s cart. Crimson pupils under pure-white fur ran for her child with intent to slap, “-no more witchcraft!” she rose an arm, the little girl cowered reflexively, *smack,* a wall built between mother and child. Igna ambled into frame, the drenched Osna Jr clambered from the well and gasped.

“Don’t raise a hand on an innocent child,” he thundered, “-where’s the bravado when the boys were teasing. Where’s the vigor in slapping another mother’s child?”

.....

The crowd split, many watched in fear and hate, “-the devil,” gasped the mother, whilst little Tania’s eyes sparkled. Terisa’s spirit, healed and strong, marked itself on her arms as a butterfly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s the anger?” he asked and held a hand to the little girl, “-how can you so nonchalantly scream at her faults.”

“You,” cried the father, “-you nearly destroyed the whole village – there’s a massive crater and the forest’s in pain, is that what is considered noble... the Sen Dynasty will co-.”

“You mean this?” he flashed the ring and held the decree, “-look at me straight,” he thundered, the chief sprinted, “-my name’s Igna Haggard, and I’m the devil,” a thud showed outlines of his devilish trait, “-my actions are grounded in what I believe to be right. I choose the path of nonviolence, free to live the nomadic way. Alas, the stupidity of your kind, to which I pity for thy brothers and sisters, inhabitants of Arda, are some of the best, smart, and cordial people I’ve met. Expectation and reality, I’m disappointed,” he tore the scroll, “-as my title dictate, I’m the holder of the Sen Dynasty’s authority.”

“Celestial...” the crowds murmured, unbiased listeners bowed, many stood in confusion and others outright defiant.

“Chief of Orn Village.”

“Here,” hailed the exhausted man, “-how might I help?”

He looked around and breathed in the village’s sorry state, “-bring Osna Jr and his band before me.”

“Might I as-”

“Speak when spoken too,” returned Igna coldly.

The angered young man walked at him and rose a confident leer, “-lower your head boy,” a sudden drop forced him onto the cold floor, “-your father failed, thee must have a lesson in humility,” he looked at Tania and patted her head, “-as nature dictate, strong are the winners and weak are the losers. Tania, for the harm this fellow’s cause don you and your siblings, for the pain he caused your friend, for the injustice the villagers thrust upon Terisa, the friend you remembered so well, and her mother, a lady unable to move by malice, will you fight and prove your worth.” Most of it went in one ear and out the other, she looked to him and tilted her head. A relaxed smile escaped his regard, he knelt on one knee and opened his palm, “-after you asked me for help, I know your parents beat and said mean things. They’re afraid, trust me, your mother’s acting hard to please the village chief. Beat Osna Jr and I promise, they’ll stop being hard.”

“Will father and mother like me again?” she fluttered.

“Yes they will,” he reassured. Her petite hands took his, and there, the butterfly on her arm lit, “-go and show them what Tim and Terisa loved to learn, show them your magic, show them the spirit’s love.”

Worried villagers approached, “-lord Celestial, isn’t it unfair to send the little girl in battle against a monster?”

“Osna’s no prodigy,’ returned Igna, the crowd gave space for the battle, “-today’s the day where the strong become the weak.” Opposite them, Osna handed a short-sword to his boy, “-kill her, and spare no pity. I’ll have the parents exiled.”

“Understood, father,” he grabbed the handle and rushed.

‘Teacher said fight,’ she stood with her stained dress and blinked, the boy was twice her size. Rather than look her opponent, she pressed her hands and prayed, “-please, spirits of the forest, I need help,” the butterfly burnt, dark-blue fume climbed her arms and latched on her back, there -a pair of butterfly wings expanded, it flapped and threw the boy off his feet. Nearby spirits rushed, a small book rose above her hand – the pages flipped through strange words and lines, her body knew exactly how to move. Osna jr rose on his feet and ran, she tapped a page and projectile flung at his face, elemental spirits restrained the movement. ‘She’s gifted,’ he smiled, ‘-I knew it. She has a strong affinity for the spiritual world. Terisa imparted her talents, the last prayer before she died.’

Annoyed by the defeat, Osna Jr looked at his father, he nodded, the boy smirked and pressed the pommel in Tania’s direction, a torrent of pure magma spurted, “-idiot,” he leaped into the line of sight, held out a finger at the liquid and blew, the fire froze, there, he flicked and shattered the spell, “-are you stupid?” *snap,* Osna’s bone shattered, “-don’t test me.”

The shattered parts floated, “-Hear me, people of Orn, Tania defeated the chief’s son, the next heir of the village. In my name, I order Osna, his followers, and his son, to be exiled to the north. Thou art to make a pilgrimage to the temple of Sen, there, on arrival, will thee be granted the right of a safe passage,” else a death sentence.

An hour later, Igna watched as the followers headed deeper into the forest, he spun towards the village.

“Father, are we going to die?”

“No, junior, I have a plan,” he rubbed his hands together “-we’ll circle and attack the village. If I can’t rule, what’s the point in allowing them to live,” at the head of the pack, confidence gave swagger to the body language. He looked behind, half of the team was dead – bushes rumbled, humanoid creatures took heads viciously, haunting screams drowned, the forest devoured.

‘See you in hell,’ back against the massacre, Igna soon arrived at the village center. There, those open to the idea of a new leadership waited cordially.

“To you who decided to stay, I welcome thee to the village of Orn. Elect a new leader and use these,” he conjured a plethora of building supplies, “-to reinforce the homes, make a barrier and overall, create a better life. Future is in thy hand,” he looked at Tania and her parents, “-in exchange, I’ll formally take Tania as my apprentice. The capital isn’t a eutopia – celestial abuse and torture. Orn and his followers were part of a secret group to keep the order. From today onward, the village of Orn will be under my protection. Prosper and spread the word. Tania will be the sword who cuts the celestials from their palace, that, I swear on my name. They will pay for the death of my students.”