The Wielder of Death Magic

“Igna?”

“Calm down,” he said, “-let me have a look,” he took off the glasses. The bicolored pupils bleached – the enlightenment of which Eira spoke about was what he could see. Everyone has their lenses through which the world is perceived, an artist notices more to the common, and Igna, having lived more than three lifetime’s worth of experiences, culminated into his foresight. The limiter toggled, specks of life flapped, whips waved, and expulsed ambers of an unsteady flow of mana.

‘There’s a disturbance in his inner flow,’ a map of the boy’s lifeforce drew above the visibly feeble body. He circled, the vicious outer mana lines, shaped to snakes, lunged at the emptiness. ‘-Seclusion,’ he gathered the remaining power, firmed the layers, and added a few words of power to secure the bonds. From another perspective, Igna merely gestured above the boy, if not for the latter’s relaxing, it’d have come across foolish.

“Done,” he exhaled and covered the unbearably clear sight, the glasses gleamed, “-the curse was a ticking time-bomb, whoever was responsible is skilled in the lost magical arts. These originate from a fallen kingdom, the resemblance points to an identical recreation. Smart, using a unique art for the cover,” by the look on Asmodeus and Jeo’s faces, they barely understood a word he said, “-basically, they used the unique curse to put us on a pointless path.”

“I see...” there was much distraction in Asmodeus’s pitiful attempts at being interested.

“What’s on your minds?”

.....

“The fight,” they exchanged glances, it wasn’t every day a brawl over a lady could be watched from a premium viewpoint. Before long, Igna sighed in jest – a signal they took as permission; the door barged opened, the outlines latched onto the railings, a sadistic grin sparked.

“How dare you cheat on me with that fucker?” cried one with a broken bottle in hand, the gathered crowd was worried.

“A bottle?” laughed the other, “-I have a gun,” he rose the pistol with an unsteady aim, “-hell no, she’s mine.”

“Dragve,” commented Igna with arms crossed, “-a pistol native to Iqeavea; importing weapons made by the Cobalt Unit is a taboo, Phantom’s the main dealer,” he smirked, “-points to a few options, don’t it.”

“You think a gun’s going to scare me off?” puffed chest strode forth, “-take your best shot, I know I’m in the right. That bitch of a woman was my wife,” he glared to the point of bleeding tears, “-no way, not ever again. She betrayed my trust, I won’t stand for it,” the hand rose, *snap, snap,* two claps, the man fired, the other fell, panic followed, the spectators ran in confusing directions.

“There she goes,” commented Asmo, “-always bringing hell where she breathes,” he vaulted from the first floor, “-take care of the kid,” trailed on the fall, Igna joined his dive, the duo soon stormed the show.

“I DIDN’T SHOOT,” cried the man, “-he tried to assault me...”

“Yeah, not going to hold in court,” whispered Asmo, he grabbed the gun and threw the man into a lock.

“Shooting another man,” said Igna picking the gun, “-fine weapon,” he aimed at the pinned man, fear and anger took turns at glaring. *Bang,* a bullet graze his cheeks and landed millimeters from the target, “-best shut it and follow us,” he turned to the frightened crowd, “-no more running or panic,” he thundered, “-the red-light district is the biased place of sin in the eyes of the general public. You and I know it’s not true, everyone is equal to make their lives better, don’t ever allow for this kind of ruffian to foil what you, yes, you, the residents, have built. When a man dies,” he glanced at the bleeding man, “-either help or bury. You kill, you clean,” he smiled, “-tis the way of the Raven – restrictions are for the weak, the strong are those with firm resolves and sense of justice.”

Asmodeus rose to stand at Igna’s side, the shooter laid unconscious, “-lord Asmo,” said the crowd in relief, “-cheers!” they said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, the leader of Raven,” he gestured to Igna, “-my boss, a man of strong principles.” Applauds echoed, the tension relieved, the prince gave a few words on what transpired. Before long, they returned to the apartment.

“Cramped,” said Jeo, “-who’s the pretty lady?”

“My partner,” winked Asmo.

“Please,” she coyly made for Jeo, wrapped her head to whisper in his ears, “-call me Jewel.”

“J-J-Jewel.”

“How’s the kid?”

“Ready to talk,” firmed Jeo.

“Jewel,” side-glanced Igna, “-you willingly created a situation to bring the worse of those two men. This one here,” he pointed with his feet, “-is a spy or foreigner, am I correct?”

“Yes,” she tied her hair in a bun, “-lady Kul asked me to investigate this person, he’s a key member in the trafficking ring.”

‘Kul, we’re unwillingly following her trail, where did you vanish to?’

“Kul?” coughed the boy, “-did you say Kul?”

“Yes?” they turned, “-know anything about her?”

“Yes,” he sniffled, “-she helped me when I was abused by a client. She rushed in, killed the man, said someone would come then left... I asked if she was a hero, she said no a demoness?”

“He’s waking,” crouched Jewel, “-wake up,” she tapped his cheeks, “-earth to Henson, wakey wakey.” Focus readjusted, the gagged expression seemed relieved on seeing Jewel, peace shook into panic on seeing Igna and Asmo, he kicked and shook similar to a newly caught fish thrown on land.

“Don’t scream,” whispered Asmo, “-we care for people.” Soon, the prisoner was strapped on a chair and pulled by the neck using a ripped curtain, “-better answer our questions,” she whispered, “-else I’ll get angry,” they pulled the tape.

“I’m not talking,” he exhaled, “-traitor,” he frowned, “-I thought you loved me, I was willing to give everything to you... why... WHY!”

“Honey,” her eyelashes fluttered, “-I loved you, and I still do, but,” she licked her lips, “-what I want is your soul, not flesh,” she forcefully leaned on his thighs to extenuate her breasts, “-I loved you,” she said, “-for a spy.”

Gulp, he swallowed, “-how did you know?”

“The gun,” firmed Igna, “-you think us fools?”

“Does it even matter, I didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment.”

“Sure you did,” said Asmo, “-you killed a man, Jewel’s plaything. She’ll decide what will happen next. For your own good, better talk, else we have other ways of surfacing the truth.”

“I dare you,” he smirked, “-I don’t break easily.”

“Who said breaking, have you heard of the term, necromancy?”

“Necromancy?” he flinched, “-no way, the practice is banned by international magical law, I call the bluff.”

“International magical law? Are you daft, magic is a fading art. The techniques are only used by skill adventures who’ve simplified the spells into short chants and activation processes. The only establishment teaching magical theory is Claireville Academy. The age of magical warfare is over. Besides, we’re in the red-light district. The number of people who go missing and are killed daily ranges from a few to dozens, a stray rotten body won’t cause much, the crematorium’s a warm place.”

“Him,” said the boy, “-it’s him!”

“Huh?”

“I know, he’s the magic caster responsible for the curse of no speech.”

“You’re alive?” he glared, “-BASTARD, what of my spell?”

“Negated,” winked Asmo, “-tell us what happened to Kul.”

“Captured,” he said, “-a lady snuck into the trading and killed many of our men, I restrained her movements on orders from the higherups. Next thing, we were forced to leave the warehouse, it happened a few weeks ago, I don’t know anything, promise.”

New puzzle pieces painted an ambiguous picture, ‘-Kul asked Jewel to investigate the man, the timeline doesn’t need to make sense, she’s weird in her way of covering tracks. Safe to say she was on the hunt for the traffickers, very admirable and foolish. Why was she forced into going alone, Asmodeus’ not lying either,’ night drew yonder, hefty and stuffy compound stood before them, the gates were tall and the walls taller, rust ate at the handle, paint and signs of fire, “-ugly.”

“Don’t, now’s no time for jokes,” they phased into the compound, “-erase your presence.”

Few bored guards looked to and fro, cranes overlooked metal-cages, “-the wind’s harsh,” whispered Asmo, “-the hoists must be powerful to carry those things.”

“You pick now to be amazed at the mechanical wonders?”

“Yeah, sure,” they shuffled along, one misstep and death waited to catch their fall, “-there, a blue container. Must be the one used to transport people,” they flew, “-what should we do next?”

“Nothing, if Kul was here, she isn’t anymore. There should be a trail,” feet on a stack of containers, “-in here,” they pulled the door open, vagrant darkness loomed in the belly of the beast, a step inside altered the aura – crimson-colored writings glowed, “-ancient words of power,” said Igna, “-she walked into a trap.”

“Pardon?”

“Look at them,” he said, “-don’t you recognize them?”

“No,” he narrowed, “-I don’t.”

“The mother tongue of demon language, ring any bells?”

“No,” he shrugged, “-I can’t understand. Why does it matter, translate it for me.”

“Hold on...” the echoey container hurtfully amplified the sound, “-Asmodeus, could you write something in the ancient tongue for me?”

“Sure,” he took to the wall, translating in, “I love burgers.”

Igna paused and wrote, “-do you understand this?”

“Yeah, says I love hugs?”

“Damn,” he exhaled, “-history changed – an entity stole the demonic tongue, altered it into a lesser potent variant. Despicable...”

“The writings are of the true ancient tongue?”

“Yes, and whoever abducted Kul is familiar with the true tongue. We have our plates full,” *ring, ring,* “hello?”

“Master, we have trouble... Lady Kul was spotted at Fuda Mountain being hauled by strange beings.”

Wings sprouted, before a word said, Igna vanished into the night, leaving Asmodeus in the dark and before a gathering crowd of angered guards, “-INTRUDER,” sounded the alarm.

“éclair, who owns the compound?”

“One of the conglomerates, shall I pursue the search deeper?”

“Yes, and I’m sure it’s the alliance to Iqeavea,” he flapped through the night – passed the northern barrier, visibility lowered in face of the thick uncontested forest. A simple road, the only beacon of direction in nature’s labyrinth, led the way forth. ‘-Why are they after her?’ he flapped, “-to those hiding in the shadows, I, King Haggard, the Demon-King,” the signet ring lit, “-order for my words to be heard, take to the forest and capture the intruders, restrain them for they have done wrong,” the waves broadcasted, stray unintelligent monsters changed in their way of thought.

“... ... ...” said the unfaced figures, “... .. .... .” The foliage shook, dire-wolves gnarled and pounced, a shock of dark-light slaughtered the incoming monsters, ‘-found them,’ he turned and flapped.

*Crash,* the ground cracked, “-release her,” he ordered, a tranquil lake reflected the somber night, ‘-strange entities.’

“Should we fight the man?” they spoke in their tongue.

“Maybe, I don’t mind killing, it is good.”

“Stop, should we kill or not, I don’t know. This demoness has the blood of the olden dungeon, we have to awaken our lord.”

“Dungeon, our lord?” interjected Igna, “-the ancient tongue,” he stepped, “-you’re not native to this world.”

“Look, brother, someone understands us.”

“Yes sister, he understands us, we should kill him.”

.....

“Kill him, yes.”