The Wielder of Death Magic

“Wow, Anna, that was amazing,” said Frost with his pretty face and ever blue-eyes.

‘The two look like a couple,’ yawned he resting against the impaled spear. The instructor was Tier-4 Bronze of the Herb Guild.

“Mr. Kon, are we going back today?” wondered other tired-looking students.

“Another day and we’ll head back,” said he, “-some of you have leveled pretty nicely. The experience will help in better fights.”

‘What does he mean level up,’ wondered Lampard holding onto the Guild-Tag. ‘My stats have not increased a bit,’ with it saying Tier-8 Steel, one of the higher-ranked in the class. ‘Anna and Frost are the same tier but still so much stronger.’

“Alright everyone, group up, we’re taking a break for today,” said Mr. Kon calling upon the wall-guards. The elevator followed soon after.

.....

“Pretty nice for the want-to-be hero,” mumbled Frost with a smirk, “-don’t show off too much else we’ll treat you the same as did the people in Military-Arts,” the blue hair continued forth.

“Don’t worry about him,” soon came another voice, “-Frost is competitive.”

“Anna, do you know him?” wondered he by her appearance.

“Yeah, we’re in the same guild,” her head tilted in confusion, “-didn’t you know?”

“Not to my knowledge,” a shrug dismissed the ignorance.

“I guess you wouldn’t,” she held her chin in disarray, “-why don’t you know?” the words felt empty and her mind emptier.

“Anna, Frost, come here already,” yelled the Instructor.

Meanwhile, at the Academy, the class of Military-Arts returned from a field expedition. The new instructor was a scholar from the Military with ties to the Royal Guards. On the first day of his appointment, “-I teach discipline and respect. Those stupid enough to go against my words shall be subjected to harsh punishment. I’ve heard of the prior incident of injustice. We shall NOT tolerate such actions. The ones responsible have been rusticated for a month, may this be an example. And no, they’re not at home – tis the military camp.” Said mention of the fabled yet dreaded place had the student shudder.

‘The instructor is smart and strict,’ wondered Leonard on the bus back, ‘-he’s taught us more than that corrupt fool. Jen and Rena seem happier with the changes, I guess it happened for the best,’ headphones on, the scenery changed with music in the background. ‘I’ve trained for battle, and still, I don’t want to use my spells in face of adversity. Father must be ashamed of such an unworthy son. The noble-life doesn’t miss me one bit. The freedom here is much more entertaining. Mother, wherever you are, your idiot son has managed to find friends. Keep watching from up above, I’ll be sure to make you proud.’

“Rena,” waved Jen with no response, ‘-I guess she’s asleep.’ Her head rested against an ever-shaking bus-window. ‘The moment of rest is nice. I wonder how long it’s going to last. I’ve changed quite a bit since I came here. Not really a talker and not really a friendly person, still, Group C is a nice clique. They did so much despite knowing us for a mere week. I like their company. I’m going to become the next Wall-Guardian, sister, I’m going to catch up to you soon, trust me on that.’

Rena’s mind was taken to the land of dreams. Her steps onto the imaginary world were floating and gentle. The watery surface turned waves into tsunami over yonder. The teaching of her sensei echoed one by one. The weak shall die and the strong shall live. Those at the bottom mustn’t be given choice to meddle with the top. The balance must be kept, yin and yang mustn’t merge. Grey isn’t the color of accomplishment, either black or white, nothing in-between.

A hurdle rocked the seats, “-what happened?”

“The bus jumped,” said Jen holding her forehead, “-quite a rough ride.”

“Did you get hurt too?” asked Rena with a mix of sympathy and humor.

“No... go to sleep, we have another three hours.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” The dirt-paths, hardly considered roads, headed to the Academy. The chassis was dirt-brown over the scattered pebbles.

“Igna, quick, here,” came echoes inside the kitchen, “-the meat’s about to be burnt. Come on, do something about it.”

“I’m on it, Chef,” screamed he jumping from the cutting station to the cooking.

“LEE,” gritted the Chef, “-WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” a whole dead chicken flew to land against the boy’s face. “-DON’T PLATE THAT BEFORE GLAZING IT!” The battlefield of the kitchen was harder since the one in charge had a temper as long as a matchstick.

“Is that normal?” wondered a guest from out of town.

“Don’t worry sir,” said a student with a smile, “-the restaurant gets far worst than this,” said he with a smug expression.

“I mean if the food comes with a supplement of swears, who am I to judge?” chuckled the well-off man in a suit. He sat in the company of a stunningly beautiful lady. Compared to him, her order was simple and common. Her dress and accessories screamed fancy, yet the smile and mannerism said simply as in refined and well-mannered. Fancy, over the years, grew associated with the pompousness of the obnoxious whims of those with money. Long were the days where nobles were people of respect with praiseworthy behavior.

“Hey,” gestured Leko, “-what’s this?”

“M-meat s-sir,” stuttered another recruit.

“Not meat,” with the stance of a baseball player, the morsel pitched across the kitchen to rebound over the walls and end inside the bin. “-IT’S FUCKING RUBBER!” 1

“Sorry chef.”

“Whatever,” he pushed him aside, “-Igna, come here!”

“Yes chef,” wiping the forehead from sweat, the man stared with determination.

“Good, I like the look in the eyes. I’ll take over the chicken, you help them with the meat. If it comes out as rubber... bet your ass that the next thing in that bin is your head!”

“Yes sir!” he saluted to then take over the meat.

“Igna,” whispered Joan, “-aren’t you scared of making mistakes?”

“No,” he took over the cooking, “-everyone makes mistakes. The chef knows that very well, trust in him. As long as you learn and show signs of improvements, he’ll grow more understandable.”

“You call that understandable?” he referred to the earlier threat.

“It’s his way of showing love...”

“Love?” facepalmed he, “-couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Trust me,” the morsel skipped in a sharp gesture, “-the first week I worked here was hell. I kept cleaning dishes, not fun at all. Consider yourself lucky.”

“IGNA, HOW’S IT COMING ALONG?”

“It’s done, chef,”

“Good, hand it over to be plated and come here, we’re short on manpower.” Hand in hand with the famed chef, he worked as if to complement the man’s action. A symphony of mutual understanding. Those at this particular restaurant were nothing more than recruits. Chef Leko was usually alone in handling the orders after the recruits cracked under pressure. Having an assistant was rare since the talents were training in his restaurants in better environments.

“That’s us done for tonight,” sighed Leko lent over a counter, “-the staff will clean. Go home.” A few hours had passed, the light in the hall remained as the guests enjoyed the desserts.

“Thank you, sir,” voiced all.

“Wait up Igna!”

“Good luck, Igna,” said Lee and Joan with handshakes, “-we appreciate all the help you’ve given,” without much said, they scurried out the back. The metal stairs creaked with how fast they ran.

“You called for me, Chef?”

“Yeah,” he patted the boy’s back, “-we have some famous guests tonight. I called them to taste and evaluate your cooking. It’s been more than two months since that incident. I was surprised to see you the next day without injury. Guild-Leader is going to be happy with a talent like you.”

“Sir?”

“You seem confused,” he smiled, “-let me explain. The culinary world has evolved quite a bit. Meat is sourced for monsters and exotic creatures. Even the blood of devils isn’t spared from our blades. Goes to show how much we know of them. Never in my time did I come across a student who understands the teacher’s words and applies them to the letter. You didn’t only recreate but added and improved certain skills I taught. I’m happy, truly, there’s nothing more to say really. My doubts were settled tonight. The way you worked with me is fearsome, couldn’t have expected for a better assistant,” the glasses lowered, “-judging on their response, your future might be full of fame or destitute with regrets.”

“Sir, you give me too much credit. I learned from the best. There’s no room for excuses or failure.”

“The ironclad resolve throughout my insults, assault even, are what makes you, you. Igna, I don’t care if nothing is remembered from the past. I’m making you my assistant.”

“Chef Leko, the guests have called on you,” voice a waiter.

“Come on,” said he pushing the self-closing door. Tables with emptied plates, joyous smiles, and relieved expression. Those sat were in a state of hysteria. Students and teachers alike – the feeling gave was of satisfaction. ‘-Did they enjoy our food so much?’ wondered Igna close to the Chef.

“Lord Lordon,” he bowed, “-lady Lordon. I must first show gratitude in you have made the trip to our modest academy.”

“Chef Leko,” said the man confidently, “-I’ve said it plenty ‘o time, my wife and I shall cross the seas to taste your cooking,” the glance gave the assistant a once-over.

“Might I ask how was the meal?”

“Succulent,” said he.

“The meat was tender and the tastes were complicated, the components worked well with one another. Mr. Leko, did you prepare this?”

“Lady Lordon...”

“It’s not bad,” she smiled listlessly, “-I very much enjoyed the freshness and new approach.”

“To be praised by one of the greatest palettes, I’m very much so honored,” he bowed.

“Did you try a new recipe?” asked the man strongly, “-I do suppose my wife’s taste never fails.”

“Actually,” he chuckled, “-your meal was prepared entirely by this boy tonight.”

“Excuse us?” the shock came suddenly, “-an amateur preparing our meal. Do you have no shame, what if we were poisoned by the fledgling’s cooking, I’m disappointed.”

“Husband,” she held his hand, “-please, food isn’t decided on a person’s experience or stature. The boy cooked us a very succulent meal,” the melancholic eyes laid atop on his face as if daggers. “Tell me your name.”

“Lyoko Igna, ma’am.”

“How would you like to come work for us?”

“Do forgive me saying,” interjected Leko, “-the boy is currently my apprentice.”

“Name your price,” said she coldly, “-talent like him must be natured by the best. I’ll take him on personally.”

“Lady Lordon,” breathed Leko, “-your one of the greatest pallets as well as one of the best chefs out there. The reputation speaks volume, however, I can’t hand-over this boy on threats alone.”

“How unpleasant,” her tongue clicked in dismissal.

“Leko, come on,” smiled the man, “-my wife wants him so badly, I’ve never seen her fight for a recruit. Ok, how about this, let us have six months to train him.”

“Six months,” he turned, “-sure.” The guests soon left with the melancholic lady smiling viciously.

“Mr. Leko, why did you agree?”

.....

“Igna, this is a great opportunity to learn from a legend. Make the most of it – I’ll wait for you. The talent is unparalleled, I can’t argue and let this go-by, make me proud.” In those words came the pride of a father, he spoke with great pleasure with the face shimmering at what was to happen.