The Wielder of Death Magic

“Are we to live in a tree?” asked Anastasia with a chuckle.

“Don’t get too excited,” voiced Eira, “-as we’re still quite a way off.” Confused, the already immense size kept on increasing without stop. A few minutes later, one could not see past its trunk.

“What is this?” asked Timothy with a fatigued face.

“Everybody calm down,” spoke Courtney for the noise grew annoying, “-sit, we’ll be landing soon.”

“There they are,” pointed Serene with a short dress and furred coat. Buttoned, the latter hid her dress giving an illusion of not wearing anything.

“I see,” emotionless, none knew of what he felt. Deep inside, the magical element found it hard to produce mana. Each time it tried; the mind was hit with a wave of pain. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought as the plane grew closer, ‘-regeneration should not take that long. If fighting is involved, I’ll have to fight with my weapons without augmentation. Blood-Arts might be overkill,’ lost, Serene gave a quick elbow.

.....

“Are they here?” he coughed.

“No,” said with a half-hearted smile, the feeling was one of sternness. A blue canvas painted with spots of white, the sky behind was one of utter beauty. Birds could not be seen so up high. If one were to stare off the edge, the ground would not be seen. So high that clouds were visible. Unable to touch, tis was what people referred to as fog. Sliced through the air, the TU-03 slowed to then have a vertical landing.

Accompanied by a few guards, butlers, and Serene, Staxius waited patiently with warm clothes. A signet ring with the Ardanian crest rested on his left pinky. Tis was the only visible jewelry he wore. Official documents normally required a seal from the crest followed by a signature. In that respect, the ring was but a mere tool. Adorned with smooth precious stones, very flashy. Ordinarily, said trinket would have only served the purpose of being a stamp. Ordinarily that was for Staxius had imbued the ring with magic. A shield that blocked physical and elemental attack with a single press on its back-side.

Mindful to not stand close of the edges, the guards waited as one unit behind the King. Nearly blown off the platform, the wind off the TU-03 came to hastily stop.

“Here they come,” said Serene, “-be at the ready,” palm opened, the guards were on alert.

Opened with a tsst, the staircase lowered. First exited Courtney who held a stern face.

“Be on our best behavior, she said,” whispered Fletcher intimidated by what he saw outside. To which the boys rectified their posture and allowed the ladies to get out first.

“Very windy,” said Kim who held her hat in place as the gust blew hard.

“Wait here,” gestured Courtney. One by one, her classmates stood in line. Two groups were formed, one male and one female. Cold to the point of shivering, hard was it to keep a firm stance.

“Class 2A of Claireville Academy,” spoke Serene, “-state thy name.” Standard procedure for entering another province, especially when one of the Monarch was present.

“Kim Lone Franquet.” curtsied, the others followed.

“Christina Valerie.”

“Mille Stalin.”

“Ysmay Mallkin.”

“Anastasia Whitstar.”

“Eira Haggard,” same curtsy, the boys came next. A moment many dreaded for commoners didn’t know etiquette. Bearing down on them with judgment eyes, Arda was known for being very unforgiving when it came to manners.

“Timothy Clark,” hands on chest, he bowed.

“Fletcher Vega,”

“Harold Cumber,”

“Simone Style,”

“Tony Parker,” mimicking how Timothy introduced himself, a stroke of genius from Fletcher who had no idea how to act. Completed, they stared Serene who held a tablet, checked off one by one, “-that’s everyone, majesty,” bowed in turn, Staxius walked forth. Eyeing from left to right and not bothering to notice Eira, “-Welcome to Arda, Class 2A. Director Josiah told me that thee wished to study under Kniq,” deep and commanding, a strong posture, “-Kniq has been dismissed as an official guild. To suit thy needs, we came to the arrangement of having thy class study in Arda.” Glanced over to Serene, she nodded and approached, “-have preparations for their stay been made?”

“Yes, your grace,” replied the secretary.

“Excellent,” glancing one another the students were confused about what he meant by stay. “Thou seem a little perplexed,” he said with no particular emotion, “-arrangements have been for thee to have a peaceful night of rest.” On those words, Serene gestured the servants, “-please, this way ladies,” courteously, maids escorted the girls further inside.

“As for you boys,” peering over them, “-Youst, the head butler, shall teach thee a little lesson on how to act when meeting the Queen. The lesson of having a good posture seems to have sunken well.” Shuddered, breaths, let alone words couldn’t be formulated. “There’s no need to be alarmed, follow what he says to the letter and it is sure to be fine.”

“This way,” voiced Youst. To each their own, separate, the girls and boys had differing room to stay the night.

“Majesty,” called Serene, “-you sure are evil.”

“Don’t say so, I’m only giving them a good night’s rest till the real challenge begins.”

“I take back what I said, evil isn’t the correct word, I’d choose sadistic.”

“Guess my job is done here,” said Courtney who folded her arms.

“Yes, I’ll notify when to return. For now, concentrate on the production of our merchandise. And ask Cake to focus on changing the hangar.”

“Alright,” nonchalantly, “-rest up, brother,” she smiled, “-the element isn’t looking so good,” parted on those words, *thump,* shot back, the vision grew blurry, losing balance, “-majesty,” aided by Serene, “-are you alright?”

“I do apologize,” forced, “-I feel lightheaded. It’s the lack of air,” a convenient excuse.

“I see,” an eyebrow raised, “-why not take the day off. Most of the work at the guild has been handled, take care, majesty.”

“Thank you,” firm, he climbed down the stairs inside the tree. ‘What a pain, I haven’t felt this bad in ages. Constant nausea, that experiment with Avon took more out of me than I thought.”

“Hello Staxius,” in came a strange voice, eyes opened to a clock.

“Creation?” hovered, ‘-what happened?’

“Good to see that you’re awake,” stood in what seemed to be a girl’s room, space and stars swapped for white and pink decaled room with flowers scattered all over, Creation held out a hand.

“Why am I here?” grabbing her hand, he sat upright with the vision sharpening.

“Another mission,” said Creation with a little girl scribbling in a color book, “-you are to go and take care of a low-tiered god in Ingyn’s realm.”

“Sure,” stood with a tired face, “-the angel sure looks peaceful,” a remark to the toddler. No response, only a wave followed by a white mist.

*BANG,* smacked against a marble brick wall, blood splattered across as if a piece of art, or a bucket o’ paint thrown on a canvas. ‘What just happened?’ cheers and applause echoed, blurry vision, ‘-my hand,’ sat against the wall, ‘-the pentagram, it’s emanating smoke.’

“I guess you were right, Lord Death,” sat around in a coliseum, “-the next god of death isn’t that strong.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he refuted, “-Zeus, you might be the Supreme God; I’m sure that proving thy strength is nothing but a snap of the finger. Utter control of lightning must be nice,” legs crossed, “-the wielders of death magic don’t have that luxury. We’re bound to always lose something sooner or later. My prodigy did break the curse of starting over, yet, the curse of misfortune bears heavy. Sooner or later, he’ll come to that realization, what we fight isn’t the other, what we protect isn’t the world. The answer is simple, no matter how much despises us, death will always be superior to God’s. Tis the truth without facades.”

Held by the neck, Staxius lost air quick, the opponent, a champion of Zeus named Nemo; the strongest competitor out of the arena had the god of death on the edge of defeat.

“From what I see, Haggard isn’t that strong,” snickered Zeus who had a legion of maids feeding him fruits. Down to the first row, Lixbin held a conceited smirk, ‘-no matter how much one beats down on the god of death,’ *bouf,* the sound of a punch echoed around silencing the cheers, “-he’ll always win.”

‘Damn you Creation,’ breathing heavy, Staxius had managed to land a punch after which Nemo fell to the floor. ‘She fooled me into fighting for the pleasures of the other gods, what the heck...’ *Smack,* Nemo gave a chop to the opponent’s ankle. A disgusting muffled crack had most queasy. Broken, he fell to the floor with the head bouncing off the arena.

“So much for always winning,” whispered Mi, a new goddess to have joined the Eipea Empire.

“Well, I never said I knew the future,” laughed Lixbin.

“I guess so,” unimpressed, the match continued. It had been more than five hours; Staxius was killed more than a few times. Yet, unable to return a strike; the death element kept on aching. *SMACK,* opposite the first wall, the body sunk deep.

“What do you say to end the match?” proposed Zeus with a smirk.

“I suppose it’s for the best,” said in a disappointed tone, ‘-you’re not ready yet. If one can’t overcome the strain of unleashing one’s true strength, then thou might as well be naught.’

“Victor; Champion of Zeus, NEMO!”

No applause nor cheers, for the only viewer was Lixbin and a few. Broken bones, loss of blood, no mana to speak whatsoever, a complete defeat. Dragged, “-get him to the spring of regeneration,” ordered Zeus. Fluttered over to aid, Staxius’s body disappeared without the chance to rest.

‘Weak still,’ face down on a pink bed, ‘-I guess I forgot to say that unleashing the last level of Nevermore directly is as pushing high-pressured water down a tiny hole. Self-destruction, not that it’s any of my fault. You’re weak, partner. An Archangel has been summoned onto thy realm. I wonder if you’ll be able to fight, only the death element will be able to heal itself.’

*COUGH,* ‘-what happened?’ no strength left in the arms nor legs, the head remained bound to the head. ‘-I’m back in our room. I don’t sense anyone. How long has it been, I fought against a champion named Nemo. Weird that I don’t have a recollection of the fight itself, did I lose?’ asked, pain constantly bombarded the mind and body. ‘The body of a god, are you serious. How absurd was that statement, if this vessel can’t handle the power of Nevermore, then what hope is there?’

“Is he ok?” asked out in the hall, Xula paced towards the throne room followed Rosetta.

“I have no idea, majesty. Patrolling elves found him passed out on one of the linking bridges.”

“Tis similar to when Adete came to tell us about the sudden pull of the trigger,” inside the room, a few representatives of which controlled factions of the Guild stood at the ready. ‘What has happened to you, Staxius. I don’t feel that much aura oozing out thy element. Preparations have to be made for the exchange program, better get up soon, King.’

Stuck facing the ceiling, the mind wandered in and out of conscience. ‘Is the curse of misfortune active? What could be the cause of why the death element destroyed itself. I can’t complain, if it was left for me to develop, in no way could I have assimilated the divine mana. Nevermore isn’t the reason; if I’ve glossed over a crucial matter then I’m more of an idiot than I think.’