The Wielder of Death Magic

On one side stood the semi-transparent Vengeance, and on the other, stood an unknown demonic figure. The description matched the tales of what ancient writings told. A figure of half man and half goat – opposed to a goat head, the face was of a disfigured warrior. Shadows under the eyes, sharp teeth, and protruding horns made for a stellar display, obviously, not so much for the bystanders.

He bore no animosity nor emotions; a circle of elemental magical orbs circled each shoulder in increments of six. In addition, the instant Vengeance stepped closer, a strange barrier completely halted his advancements and attacks. The ceiling burnt as did the ground, a set of unheard words escaped. A tiny spark of light, heavy from what appeared, hovered to the floor, the tiny charges touched and *BAM.* The concrete floor tore underneath, the walls disintegrated, the clear night sky flashed for a moment, and by the same moment, a deafening explosion sent debris and people across the grandness of Oxshield.

‘I can’t fight him,’ cringed the feisty guardian, ‘-he has the authority of a demi-god. I can’t do harm even if I tried,’ the last resounded sound was of a tree’s crack. Shivers ran up Igna’s sleeve, the scene played slowly beyond what he could see or hear.

“Master, a strong foe has arrived. If nothing is done, people will die needlessly.”

No time wasted, the instant, ‘-a strong foe,’ crossed his mind, the body reacted in a burst of dense mana. ‘-Debris, people,’ the crimson pupils bleached for the crystal whitened glare, ‘-I need to save them.’ *Blood-Arts: Enlian.*

‘To fight a demon, one must be a demon,’ he leaped for the skies, the full moon silhouetted his body. Anywho watched would have seen the embodiment of what they knew as ‘-terror’.

.....

*Spatial-Arts: Wormhole,* thought of ‘-we’re going to die, God help me, I don’t want to die, I still have so much to live for’, were stumped by a sharp purple glee. The next thing, the victims sat in a hurdle before Julius, who albeit, kept a stoic demeanor.

A broken vestige of the studio would have been expected to plummet, instead, they feathered to the mercy of the breeze.

“Good display.”

“Who stands there,” the manifestation of his mana swallowed to naught, “-are you the one responsible?”

“Yes, I guess,” said the buffed-beast, “-my name’s Cimi,” redden holes of which were eyes, scanned the vicinity in efforts to make sense of said situation, “-I caused quite the mess,” the magical abilities went above expectation. The heart pulsed, a demon of such ranking would be in-between mid and high tier. “You look strong,” he said to initiate small talk.

“I guess?” replied he perplexed at the behavior, “-I don’t sense malicious intent. What are you?”

“Who me?” another scan around, “-I guess I can show you,” he dove to the ground. A patch of lonesome grass stood hidden behind a decorative behemoth of a boulder. “-I said it before,” a twirl swapped the entire persona. Newly before stood a boy in a doctors’ coat with round glasses. A cute-type of tiger beanie hid the horns, “-the name’s Cimi, I’m part of the Demonlord’s army.”

“Demonlord?” the face scattered to the signet ring, “-someone else bears my title?”

“You’re a Demonlord too?” he blinked inches away from Igna, “-I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t need you to believe either.”

“Well, whatever,” with a child’s nonchalant vigor, “-I’m sorry about the building I broke. Wasn’t my intention, this realm has a lot of potential in the ways of ancient magic. I can summon a whole lot of spells to aid in the conquest. I guess the wormhole spell worked, I should have thought of a location first.”

“Sorry, what demon lord’s army are you from?”

“Don’t you get it?” he side-glance mercilessly, “-I serve the son of three great gods, the overseer of the underworld, the true ruler of demons, the guardian of death, Hades. Well, I serve the son anyway, he’s strong, very strong, the name’s Zagreus. Maybe he’ll come around to play someday, who knows.”

“Are you a fighter?”

“No, far from it, I’m the weakest demon out of the bunch. My job is to help the others, my minions are also the slowest and weakest. Still, doesn’t matter anyway, we’re strong enough for this pathetic realm,” the arms stretched to the studio, “-I accidentally released my true form earlier, I don’t know why. Someone had vicious killing intent, it was reflex, I think. Since this place isn’t in the area of conquest, I’ll just resolve the problem I made.” No incantation, no visible strain on the body or mind, the fragments returned and sealed at the prior locations. “-There, it’s solved. What’s your name?”

“Igna Haggard.”

“Alright, cool. Nice to meet you, strange being, Igna Haggard, we are similar, I know you’re strong, very strong,” a cheeky lick of the lips, “-I hope we meet again very soon. For now, we invade and build a castle for the servants of evil!” the tone heightened menacingly,”-Ok no,” an abrupt stop,”-not evil, maybe... to hard, I don’t want to think, goodbye.” *Poof*

‘What was that. I can’t reach Vengeance; did he lose the battle without fighting. Cimi, the servant of a Demonlord, quite the humble title. He had the powers of a demi-god, one who neared the ascension to divinity, or in the case of demons, Demonlord. The building was fixed in such a stoic manner, easy as breathing. My heart still trembles from the burst of mana. Alphia’s going to be a warzone.’ Steps of a worrying nature skipped along the asphalted road, it halted audibly and presumably looked about. The vampiric transformation returned to normal, wings retracted, the canines grew less blatant and the nails, covered in black nail polish, were trimmed and proper. A few shoves gave way beyond a slightly tall curb. Lights from the adjacent store blinded it who made such a ruckus. The outline, slender and curvy, long straight hair, a staple of what the industry called beautifully, watched aimlessly with hands clasped in prayer on the chest.

“Aceline?” he ducked below a branch and clambered onto the street, “-is that you?”

“Igna,” she moved to hide the light, the face brightened, “-where have you been?” she skipped forward.

“I had to care for a rather interesting intruder. What about you, judging by the pants, did you sprint here in heels?”

“Y-yeah,” her eyes wandered nervously, “-don’t stare intently...” her cheeks reddened, “-fine, it’s been weird for me, ok? I had to work with so many artists, Scott came back, we somewhat set our differences aside and he apologized. I’m lost and don’t know what to do,” she timidly placed her head onto his chest, “-a new place, a new environment. I thought I was strong, turns out, I’m weak. The past still haunts me, I can’t rest, lest the memories ease.”

“Aceline,” he gave a firm and comforting hug, “-you’re working hard, I can say, I’m very proud. I selfishly brought thee back from death. I should have been more careful... I-” he paused for she warmly lifted her lashes to his words, “-I felt lonely, I guess. Yeah, yeah, laugh while you can, I just wanted to have someone who knew me from way back then. Someone I could talk to, or something, I don’t know,” the bi-colored eyes nervously tried to stand firm, Origin’s emotions seeped onto the cold heart; a warm dash of water onto an ice-cold rock. “-I have to ask, Aceline, you’re young, very young. I’d say mid-twenties, meanwhile, I met your best friend, Queen Gallienne, she’s been subject to the passage of time, or is in the process.”

“You met Gallienne?” her eyes sparkled, “-oh,” she stepped back and breathed, “-I guess you would have. Not me, I- I’ve betrayed her trust more than once.”

“Yes, hello,” hands-on the earring, “-éclair, could you transfer the call to my mother?”

“-what are you doing?” she inquired in a mumble.

“Greeting’s lady mother, I’m sorry for the sudden call,” the voice grew distant, the world around her shut, the nose burnt, her throat tightened, a moment of joy and terror lifted her chest, ‘-w-w-why, w-why...’

“-Yes, could you please get me in contact with Queen Gallienne?”

‘-Why is he doing this...’

“My humble greetings, majesty, if I may be so bold, could you spare me and a companion of mine a sliver of your time?” he handed over the phone, Aceline watched on verge of tears, “-go on,” urged Igna, “-take the phone.”

“Who is it at this hour?” exhaled she over the phone, “-don’t run around the palace,” she fired distantly. The phone shakily touched her cheeks, “-hello?” Silence permeated on both sides, a blast from the past relit their memories. Bliss, woe, struggles, and ultimately, death.

“Aceline, is that you...?”

“Y-yeah...”

“Hand the phone to Igna right away,” she missed her target blurry from the whelming tears. A short onslaught of insult from the royal, the latter gave to her emotions and asked for Aceline to head for the castle. Quick to oblige, a stationed helicopter of allegiance to Apexi, headed for the palace without Igna. He stood on the side in the company of Julius and Scott. She had to face her past and make amends, in a way, he had done so for Eira too.

The brisk tempest of upper floors solicited shivers, “-let’s head back,” proposed Julius. Orangish hue of the lift reflected against Scott’s flashy forehead, “-Igna, I ought to know, who are you?”

“No one special, just a guy who has a lot of contacts,” he chuckled, “-I heard Xius’s gotten to their level of reputation from your work.”

“Not really,” the lift descended slowly, “-I just helped Emi Muko and the band get together. Can you believe them, I’ve asked so many times to find a full-time drummer, they never do the effort and end up firing any prospective talent. Xius’s a great band, take away their passion for alcohol, they’re good people with good hearts.”

“I know,” a feeble laugh escaped, “-we did have a lot of fun.” Julius knew what he referred to, a hole of which would take longer to fill. Down to the ground floor, the empty crowd grew, familiar faces waited around the receptionist. The worker exchanged chatter and banter; morale was high regardless of the incident. Part of Vorn, present for jam sessions took breaks to meet their friends. A live broadcast of a popular late-night show flaunted the charismatic trio of; Nola, Enna, and Sheiwai. Applause from the audience was loud and substantial. Beyond the reception at the entrance were investigators.

“I’ll take care of negotiations,” said Igna, “-could you check on Vanesa for me?”

“Alright,” they winked. The channel swapped for a rerun of a particular cooking show, the young star of the culinary world, Kyle Darker, and his explosive personality in the kitchen.

“Officers.” The old man shoved a pen under his beret and itched in a ‘-whatever’ type of mood.

“You are?”

“Igna Haggard, I presume you’ve come for an eyewitness account?”

“Yeah, could you answer a few questions?”

“Sure, let’s move to a more private area.” He led the way to a corridor, “-we should be far enough,” the reception’s bright atmosphere nulled to one of threat. “-I’ll say with this, the incident was caused by a Demonlord, a monster of whom no current adventurer can hope to ever combat. I speak on the authority of the Viscount of Glenda; if a mess is to be made of this situation, we may incur their wrath. I’d strongly advise wiping the incident from thy memories.”

“-sure,” they gulped.