The Wielder of Death Magic

“Tell me,” he leaned into the desk, thrust his chin at the young lass, “-what is your story, give me a summary. I’m sure you understand the severity of the first impression, I’m willing to forgive the prior attitude. When asking for a favor, one must know to bury their pride and beg if the situation requires it.” Arlah subjectively formulated his opinions on who sat before him, ‘-a stern man with power,’ he observed, sympathy to the lass’s situation, ‘-he doesn’t hold back and cares not for a fellow relative.’ The words stuck at her pressed lips, intimidation from the judging stares closed her posture.

*Tap,* a light touch brushed against her shoulder, ‘-what?’ she turned to an understanding Arlah, ‘-I understand,’ the fingers relaxed.

“My name’s Ania Gard, I’m the daughter of Auic and Avon Gard. My life, in general, was spent learning the teachings of the Church, they taught magic and how to read and write. My father was an instructor at a private academy, he taught magic and I learn my art under his tutelage. For the better years of a decade, I never realized the immense pressure my parents and their rebelling factions were under. The church has a monopoly of everything, the inhabitants are zombies, they pray and worship the church, they do what is told, and are closed-minded to differing ideas. When I turned sixteen last year, they told me about their journey in a Hidros, they recounted the stories of their adventures in the company of a man named Staxius Haggard, who I was told to be my uncle. Father always said we bore a connection deeper than blood ties. Then, in the leading months to where I stand, my parents forced me to board a ship headed to Hidros – I watched them be killed mercilessly by servants of god as I hid in a carton box. All I could do was watch silently, their loving memories faded – I wish I was strong, I wish I could have saved them. There isn’t much purpose,” she stared into the distance, “-I’m not a fool, exacting revenge is out of the picture. I don’t have a goal, no family, and nothing to offer,” the empty gaze fell on him, “-I delivered the message, my quest is complete. What happens next is yours to decide, cousin.”

“What happens next is mine to decide?” he breathed, “-what if I said you’re not welcomed, what then, what would you do?”

“No idea,” she shrugged, “-perhaps work as an adventurer?”

“I see, you don’t have an objective in life,” the atmosphere eased, “-tis a shame your parents died, I wish I could have spoken to Avon one last time. Ania Gard, the decision of thy inclusion into our family rests with my mother, the head of our family. Be assured, from today onward, I take responsibility to care your needs. What life are you accustomed to?”

.....

“A normal life,” she said,”-why ask that type of question?”

“Ok, what is normal?”

“We eat twice a day, live in a two-room apartment, I guess?”

“A modest life,” he sighed, “-Ania, I mean not to brag, the Haggard Dynasty is considered one of the wealthiest in the world,” he called onto Alta, “-would you please do the honors?”

“As you wish,” she shuffled to Ania, “-please, follow me,” the ladies left the room. Kion sat solemnly in the corner, menacingly watching the elf’s moves.

“You,” said Igna, “-I’m thankful you escorted her on goodwill. To show my appreciation, I’ll grant any request thee wishes long as it not direct in my way.”

“I could never,” he bowed, “-we may stand on different sides of the battlefield, my admiration for the Haggard dynasty runs deeply in my vein. To speak to the Devil of Glenda is an honor in of itself.”

“Strategist of the South, Arlah Kunrid; I’ve heard stories about the campaign you led to Castle Hart, the siege was stopped midway due to lack of supplies. I have my reasons to suspect the one behind the stoppage to be the king who has a very shallow view on what needs be done.”

“I’m pleased,” he smiled, “-Count Haggard, I must ask a favor.”

“Which is?”

“Please end the war,” he said, “-the reason why I visit is to personally give this,” he unrolled the scribbles of a scroll, “-the king received this as a gift to honoring the church’s orders. He’s a greedy fool – if not for my friend and me, the elven people would have been subjected to misery. He doesn’t see the wrong in imprisoning demi-humans – the act is pure to satisfy the church’s doctrine, as it looks, elven races haven’t yet to be heralded as monsters. The day they switch their belief is the day we lose our advantage.”

“Hold a moment.”

“Pardon?”

“Why relay said information to us, we’re enemies.”

“No, I have never viewed Ardanian’s as enemies. My belief aligns with what King Haggard believed. The differing races are to unite, not fight. I was wary at first, however, it seems to be the wisest choice to place trust in thee. Win the war for the sake of our people.”

“Who launched projectiles at Glenda?”

“PMC under Elendor’s rule, they’re stationed north, shy at Cape’s view bay.”

“Understood,” the hologram displayed a top-down view of the province, “-Arlah Kunid, I ask this, are you willing to betray your king and swear allegiance?”

“Returning would spell my death, therefore, I have no option. A deserter has no right at mercy, so says the king.”

“What of your friend?”

“Tigul Nerlie, the general. He’s strict and loyal.” Kion joined the discussion and a meeting for a counterattack went into place. The hours elapsed, Ania found herself sitting outside the town hall at the back, a lovely marble fountain held the figure of a babe pouring water out of a pot. Children skipped about, “-how was it?”

“Count Haggard,” she slid to the side.

“Cousin is fine,” he said and sat – dusk was upon the city, “-seems you opted for boyish clothes.”

“They’re more comfortable,” she smiled. Leather boots swallowed her dark-brown pants, a yellow buttoned-up shirt was kept under a similarly brownish colored leather jacket, “-and costly.”

“Here,” he slid a phone, “-this device is connected to a very helpful assistant. Keep it on you at all times.”

“A phone,” the light reflected against her pupils, “-my friends and I dreamed of owning these... the price easily could afford three-month rations.”

“With Avon and Auic, I doubt life was woeful.”

“You’re right,” the lanterns lit, “-we were happy, I was anyway.”

“What you feel is what matters. I informed the head of the family earlier. Welcome to the Haggard Dynasty, Ania. We may not share blood, still, I’ll think of us to be family,” he turned to her gently.

“Will take time for me to adjust. What should I do?”

“Whatever you want,” he laughed, “-the sky is the limit, a scholar, doctor, performer, pilot, assassin, fighter, anything you want.”

“I want to try adventuring,” she said.

“Adventuring... are you trying to find your own adventure like Kniq did?”

“Yes,” her lips broadened, “-I want to experience what my parents recounted.”

“Then tis settled,” he stood, “-I will have arrangements made for thy enrollment at the Adventuring Academy.”

“Are you for real?” she gripped his sleeve.

“I am, follow what thy heart dictates and live a life of no regrets.”

“Understood.”

The 1st of January settled into the 2nd. The days would move rapidly, crossing weeks and months – two months of preparations barely settled the conflict between the elven kingdom and Igna. The four clan leaders made their appearance, the Blood-King’s faction cornered the battlefield, supplies were cut – the king’s men were forced to starve, any who’d cross beyond the natural border of Liberthan Plains was killed. The plan went as follows. Glenda would fight a battle of attrition, the last thing the king expected from a single man. Little did they know, the devil of Glenda was a walking army on his own, soldiers were summoned from the Shadow Realm, around six- thousand highly trained fighters in ways of marksmanship, magic, and ancient arts. They were perfect beings, blessed with invincible bodies since their core and soul were bound to the Shadow Realm. It was the same as a platinum adventurer taking on a horde of low-level monsters, or using a long sword to chip a potato. Each fighter had the strength to take a platoon of one hundred without breaking a sweat. Fast-forward to the end of February, the elven army was surrounded and forced into a battle of attrition. Their numbers chipped mildly. Meanwhile, they fought, Igna took to the Holy Forest of the Great spirits. The legendary tree sprawled to have a thicker body. He began by meeting the Dryads, guardians of the forest, explained his intent of reuniting Arda and was given their blessings. With this, he moved to the capital and entered negotiations with the current ruling parties. A fierce battle of wit and will ensued, it took ten days to finalize the deals to many of the nobles, getting them to his side – simply taking the crown wouldn’t satisfy the population. By feeding into the abuse of the demi-humans, he manipulated them into a coup, the leadership was dethroned – the representatives held a vote which also included the populous, all wanted the Haggard’s to regain power. On the 5th of march, lady Courtney Haggard is crowned queen of Arda. Since the elven people had sheltered at the ancient tree, a decision was made to officially move the capital to Glenda. On the 6th, Igna led his forces into a final attack, they captured the king and publicly executed him before his fighters. Two choices were granted, either accept the Haggards or follow the king to his grave, the outcome, considering their treatment and famine was easily deduced.

The Count returned home on the 7th, a festival was brought to the council’s attention. The borders were opened, traders from all over the province made their way to the new capital, plans for expansions were laid upon Igna’s office.

“Congratulations,” said Alta standing at the door.

“It was a collective effort,” he smiled at key figures in the war, “-the battle starts now.”

“Cousin,” a little fox-eared lady rushed into the room, “-report from northern outlook – an army of twenty-thousands has teleported at Way’s mine.”

‘It’s according to plan,’ he lifted the blinders, ‘-the parchment Arlah brought was indeed a teleportation spell. We were right to keep up our guard. Killing the king to draw the attention of the ring-leader. Arda won’t ever be tainted again,’ the covers fell, he grabbed his coat and made for the door, “-let’s go, we have a war to fight.”

Awakening as the Great Patriarch forever changed Igna’s life. The truth he came to understand, the truth told by Origin in dreams, everything pointed to Draebala – the world cried in pain, it wanted peace and rest. Before handling matters of another world, the responsibilities to create a stable kingdom laid in his hands. New figures made their way in his life, close people died from old age, therein ushered the Age of Alteration, from human politics to godly politics, the ring-leader was yet to be found. Igna marches forth with his wit and an enlightened persona, ‘-the gods will pay.’