The Wielder of Death Magic

On said warm yet chilly Friday – Marinda changed fundamentally. Union of Xinfe and Danio settled in a new age. On the latter’s side, the new head of family transferred to the traumatized Vive for she’d not only witness the death of her children but husband and key family members. Such scars would disrupt anyone, regardless if one was God or not, the loss of something precious stung. Lombart’s utter defeat and the death of Zeus’s sole familia mortally struck the council. A true zero-sum battle, what they lost, Igna gained, and so, Xinfe, Danio, and Haggard’s grew powerful and united. Other influential families hurried into Nordway, and for the time being, Marinda split unfavorably against the Celestial supremacist faction, in other words, the Committee.

As for the rest – land was divvied amongst many. Danio’s tainted reputation wouldn’t be clean for a long while yet, even so, the replacement head, Mariane, pledged herself into the service of righting the wrong her family had caused. Backed by the Devil, whomst actions were gruesome, malefic, and outright wrong – satisfaction brought by the downfall of the oppressors was well-received.

The volcanic town was named Cthulhu in remembrance of the guardian deity beneath their feet. Henceforth – the revolutionist faction had a purpose, influence, and a place to call home. In the following months, under the watchful eye of Igna – military operations were carried around the isle. Checkpoints previously under the Committee’s faction became safehouses for adventuring natives. Disparities were common, Celestials were Celestials and Natives were Natives, still, the unrelenting efforts of the newer generation slowly swayed opinion into a more neutral standpoint. On completion of the military expeditions, settlement of newer guard post – focus turned to better roads, a project that would last a couple of years.

Cthulhu’s daughter, a love-stricken lass – strangely celebrated the union of Xinfe and Danio. The infamously temperamental figure, in the later months, was found at Igna’s court which until now remains at the new capital.

Months eventually led into years – Igna lost track of time, Marinda was strangely convoluted for time was no constant. At times, one month in the outside world was two months in Marinda, others, one day felt like a week. Overall, time moved faster in the land of the Celestial. The day would eventually arrive when the factions would move into Nordway and truly free the land and people.

“Teacher,” an older familiar voice echoed down a minimalist hallway, the sharp footsteps stop immediately of a door and knocked, “-teacher, they’re here,” the tone heightened. No response, it tapped and latched onto the door handle, *click,* “-master,” a heavily dark room flashed into Igna’s half-awake state.

.....

“What,” he groaned, the lights flicked, “-the meetings in two hours, not now,” he turned, bottles fell onto the wooden floor, one hand reached for a pillow and soon rose to his cheeks, “-turn off the light, I prefer the darkness...”

“No,” refuted the taller and more mature Tania, she strode to the couch, pulled the pillow, summoned a cup of cold water, and poured.

“Coldwater?” the bicolored pupils locked onto her, “-at least conjure alcohol,” he yawned – the faint look he gave left a strong impression, Tania’s ears and tail reflectively heightened, “-what meeting anyway?” he sat upright, sifted across the empty bottles and lazily did the shirt buttons, “-what is so urgent you’d wake the devil from his slumber?”

No answer, Tania speechlessly blinked, “-master,” the title swapped, “-I mean, teacher, sorry. I was asked to wake thee by lady Kuthl.”

“God,” he let a cry of agony, “-not her again,” he stood and muddled towards the work desk at the edge of the room after a few stairs, the tall ceiling was well utilized in storing ancient books, scrolls, and relics found across Marinda. The land was truly a place once blessed and loved by the gods. Bookcases went from floor to ceiling, some shelves were unreached and others, shackled and bound by elementally charged chains. ‘-I’ve been so lost in the energy crisis,’ he pushed aside many drafts, “-where’s my crest?”

“Here,” she replied with the latter in a locker around her neck, “-teacher, did you forget?”

“Forget?” he blinked, “-right, yeah, I forgot. It’s the drinking,” he laughed, ‘-the years passed by, I’ve lost track of time. Whatever,’ he glided down the stairs, “-the crest of the Devil. How did the southwestern people react?” reference was made to a separate part of Marinda, another mass of land around 1/4th of Marinda’s size.

“Devil’s crest is very powerful,” she smirked, “-the moment I show this symbol, everyone shuts up and listens. The island chief was receptive to the idea of linking both masses by a bridge. Tis the reason Kuthl’s here?”

“Either she’s here for that or I’m in for another long day,” soon headed to a mirror, “-Tania, cast the cleaning spell,” the arms rose in a T-pose.

“I do recommend a shower once in a while?”

“What’s the point,” he blinked and stared at the lass’s reflection.

A grimoire summoned at her fingertip, “-whatever thee says,” she snapped – a tornado swirled the day’s of no shower, oily hair, and lack of care away – a cleaner, sharper version of Igna winked at the mirror. He quickly pulled a suit-jacket, tied the leather shoe, threw on a white-dial watch, and tightened the tie.

Tania on the other hand, in typical demi-human fashion, aged considerably. The stronger she grew; the more were the physical changes. Currently, the lass stood in her early twenties with a military outfit over the well-trained figure.

“My task’s done,” her stare returned from the cuckoo clock, “-I’ll check with Lord Gustv. Marinda’s about to change once again,” the tall disciple soon vanished into the echoey corridor.

‘I know,’ he exhaled, ‘-I know what thee mean, Tania, no need to passively suggest our course of action. Marinda’s not stable, we need Nordway and Einheim castle to truly provide for the growing population. Celestials weren’t so wrong after all. The methodology was very barbaric but still – demi-humans and the native population reproduce and evolved quickly. A child, if given proper training can grow to adulthood in less than six-month, even earlier if the teacher’s good. Take the strong, weaken the tribe, and stun their growth – and energy needs. The mana isn’t very potent, there’s a lack since the Guardian Deity takes a massive share of what the life on Marinda needs to grow. Guess the ancient way wasn’t foolish – there laid a bit of sense in the actions,’ in turn, Igna walked and shut the study – drafts titled, ‘-Marinda’s energy crisis,’ fell. Round the stairs, onto the ground floor, and to the common room, a sudden chirp slowed the trip for the bar, “-Kuthl.”

“Good morning, master,” she smiled, her lovely blue hair curled at her shoulders and fell over her back, “-did you miss me?”

“No,” he blankly returned, “-how’s your father?”

“The mana’s sufficed for now,” she tiptoed into his shadow.

“No teasing,” he returned and held a glass of whiskey grabbed on the way over, “-here, quench thy thirst.”

She accepted and jogged to a nearby table, “-the bridge between Marinda and the southwestern island is plausible...” she crossed her legs and sat, “-lest we build it with infused ore, I don’t see a way the construction will resist father’s growl.”

“There’s a way,” head in a secret cupboard, “-a simple way to solve the energy crisis and acquire the material needed for the bridge. The focus is on developing Marinda into a somewhat self-sustaining nation.”

Kuthl silently admired her drink sway, “-and tis the capture of Einheim. Devil, you’ve been after the castle of ice from the start, haven’t you?”

“What can I say,” he pulled a dark-tone bottle, “-I’ll get what I want. The castle’s a place of wonder, the heritage, and culmination of what the gods left behind,” a thumb-flick popped the cork, “-Nordway’s the heart of Marinda – without the capital’s knowhow in channeling the volcano’s energy, we won’t be able to sustain the growing population. The battle’s going to be hard, and I doubt my full power will help – the enormous amount of mana I swallow to fight isn’t viable. Can’t endanger the already shaken balance.”

“So?” she sipped, “-what then?”

“To take the capital, we’ll need the help of everyone,” he smiled.

“Everyone?”

“Yes, without the support of the natives, we’ll lack man-power. Geographically and technologically, we’re lacking. My fighters utilize weapons from outside, take them out of the picture. What of the Revolutionist faction’s military might? Bow, swords, and spears. Medieval-level weapons and the occasional spellcaster. Not a matter of number, the capital’s the biggest challenge yet. To move forward, we’ll eventually have to bring down the impregnable fortress.”

“And how are we supposed to perform said miracle?”

Half a bottle emptied, “-trust,” he cheered, “-the factions are out there working towards what I envisioned.”

She hopped off the ledge, “-well, I suppose I’m done for today. Devil, thee best not drown in liquor. See you at the council meeting. I’m ready to be mind blown, father of the nation.”

“Don’t you dare,” he squinted, “-I’m no father to this damned nation!”

She shrugged the yell, “-one day or the other, you’ll realize Marinda’s more than a mere island. There’s a reason why the gods choose here over there.”

‘Look at her trying to sound ominous,’ he drank.

Out the manor, ‘-I always wanted to say that,’ she giggled and jumped onto a horse. The lonesome manor breathed over the body of water, fishermen did their usual trips and Igna sat peering over the veranda. ‘-Look at me,’ he stared a reflection, ‘-an alcoholic.’

The devil did as he pleased; the happier entourage of natives was very humble on the soul. The day he charred Mariane never left the thought; the pleasure of watching another suffer, the sheer number of people he killed on said faithful day of change. ‘-I feel like a piece of me’s cracked, a thread binding my sanity to earth snapped. Alcohol’s a good way to keep my mind fresh. Undrar gave good advice, the recovery of the death elements compromised. I have a lot of power,’ he stared the empty palm, ‘-knowledge of far more than life and death. My glasses,’ he removed the frame and turned to the ceiling, ‘-reality’s my whim. Embracing who I am and what I was meant to be has soothed my mind, but not my heart. Father,’ teachings of Tempest Haggards resonated within, ‘-what is wrong, what is right?’

Carriages stopped at the Twin Jelly shop. Uniformed Celestials exited their rudimentary transport and scaled the bridge. Gates opened, and they entered the manor ground. The front door also opened without much said – steps changed from soft too harsh upon the wooden floor. A shake of the head and the remaining drink down the throat, “-another day of business.”

“Master Haggard,” greeted Gustv surrounded by a small entourage, namely; Mariane, Djen, Jae, Elliana, and Yean.

“Gustv,” they shook hands and exchanged embraces. The meeting soon transferred beside the bar, inside the lounge area. Drinks on the table, and cigar at arm’s reach, each took a seat around a tall table.

“Elliana and Jae,” he smiled, “-how’s Rehn’s performance so far?”

Elliana scanned and held her up her chin, “-you destroyed our floating castle and replaced it with one deemed a marvel. The Azian familia’s grateful.”

He looked at Djen, “-Lord Haggard,” nodded the more confident head of Xinfe, “-we’ve successfully completed the assigned military tasks. The last the strongholds will be defeated later tonight.”

“Good,” he turned to Mariane, “-and the people?”

“For now, it’s livable. New settlements have sprung and trails leading to and fro are more dangerous. Prowlers and Flyers have adapted and know to attack at night. Cthulhu’s in a state of crisis. The ceasing of mining operations has left many unemployed and unable to eat. Wide-spread famine and poverty are on the horizon lest something changes. We’ve hampered said eventuality.”