The Wielder of Death Magic

“Gophy, is that right?”

“I don’t know,” returned a slower, more paced response, “-and I don’t want to know. Should we end their lives as a show of strength or carry on?”

Poseidon stared blankly, “-yeah, you’re right,” resumed Gophy, learning much from the unresponsive man, “-suppose killing ’em won’t do much good.”

“Ah,” said a wandering Auic, “-I knew something like this would happen,” she stopped her jovial trek at the doorway and peered, “-goddess, it would be an honor to die at your hand. However, I ask one favor, allow me to die first – I rather not have to see my husband in more pain before I leave. When death’s angel comes, I’m sure I’ll return to my friends up above, the people who we once called family.”

“No, no,” rose an impatient Gophy, “-I mean nothing of the sorts,” she bowed and explained, “-we were discussing last night’s documentary, one where some delicacies are eaten alive,” though mostly true, Auic breathed an empathic smile and continued, her voice dropped to a mumble, “-please, come join us for breakfast.”

Poseidon strutted to said doorway, and peered around Gophy’s shoulder, “-so much for tact,” he added.

.....

Breakfast, as one would imagine, was awkward. Gophy’s mild glance carried her attention outside, through a shyly kept window. Between crunches, the crashing of the waves added much to the silence. “-I heard what happened,” added Avon, “-and, my lady Gophy, if you truly discussed our deaths,” the long, frail fingers reached for Auic’s spotted hands – they age was told through the wrinkled on the hand and not attitude or face, “-if you are to kill us, please do so when we’re both asleep. A peaceful death is all we ask. I’m certain Auic said to let her die first, but I beg to differ, I want to go first. Imagining her dying, despite knowing the latter shall come to collect – I don’t know what to say or do. Makes my heart quiver...”

“No one’s killing anyone,” interjected Poseidon, “-we came to meet some contacts, not share in the dying wish of a retired couple. Be at ease, I don’t care to slay the weak. Nor does she,” he side-glanced, “-only acting tough, like going through the teenage years. Stop it,” he narrowed, “-stop trying to prove your maturity or strength, it projects the completely opposite image. Whoever sits beside me at the moment is no goddess of Chaos, you’re a fake, a worthless waste of air. Either make up your damned mind or fuck off. Simple as that.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard right,” he sharpened vehemently, “-I don’t need a crybaby at my side, understand?”

“Oh, how lovely, I’m the crybaby?”

*Clap, clap,* Avon resounded akin to gongs, “-never thought I’d see the day deities bickering as if children. Time out, both of you,” said a stricter voice, “-finish your meal and go have a run. We’ll leave for Port Dawn shortly.”

Thus, the pompousness of being scolded by a retired man, the latter’s punishment of a well-needed run. Between pants escaped laughs, “-what are we even doing?” chuckled Poseidon, “-gods heeding the words of a mortal.”

“I don’t know either,” she giggled, “-I apologize for my previous behavior, my mind isn’t square yet; have much to settle before embarking on our true quest. Suppose it’s a good time as any to sort out my feelings.”

The refreshing run ended exactly an hour later. Shiny sweat-ridden foreheads panted. Auic exited the house with a big smile and bigger mugs of juice, “-refreshments,” she said. The sound of engine rode in the distance – they drank. More consumed, the closer grew the noise that halted as they finished.

“Ahoy,” waved Avon, “-what you think?” he drove what seemed a pickup truck, most of the back held fruits and vegetables.

“What about the ethereal carriage?” inferred Poseidon, “-I was looking forward to a horse-drawn carriage built with mana.”

“This is the carriage,” door pounded shut to quick shuffles, “-build with magic. Go have a shower, we leave in thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes it was. The scenery flowed- the jungles thinned into a trail fa?onné 1by the varying transport. “-Since we’re driving, how about I explain how things work?”

“Sure,” nodded Poseidon, “-all the better to know common sense.” Avon sought to check his rearview mirror, crossing glances with the god; an acknowledgment. “Where we came is known as Tendo Village. An unimpressive settlement of natives who ran south. It’s pretty much a replica of the many other villages around. Hidden in the forest beside the sea and thriving on seafood, farming, and hunting. The villages aren’t permanent – the name of a village is usually the family name of the villager’s elder or leader. Must have noticed our house, yes? We came here many years ago; after running from the Empire. We sought help and established a comfortable, self-sustaining way of life. Then came the colonies and wars, eventually, Tendo and I agreed to share land, and for the past five years, we’ve done so in relative peace. The settlers aren’t keen explorers – many of whom are here for the mines and lawlessness a new land brings. I must have known mankind’s greed would have come one way or the other,” forests turned to a coastal path, running beside the sandy beaches, “-road from here out is tedious for inexperienced travelers. There are no clear paths except what the forest has built. Look past the lagoon,” a massive stretch of blue carried onward to the horizon until a sharp indenture, land that rose sharply with taller mashes of dark green, “-we follow the coast, Port Dawn is over there. Would be simpler to take a boat or fly, what’s the fun in that.” The ride following that was rough. Between near-death experiences and the massive mountain that came from nowhere, the journey continued through dried riverbeds running along the valleys. Avon, as insane as it sounds, rode at an angle – one simple skid and the carriage would plummet into a brutal death. By some miracle, after the arduous drive that carried long into the pitch-black, rose rows of fireballs, chants and laughter marked their stop.

“Where are we?”

“Village of Outeh. We’ll spend the night here, should arrive at Port Dawn later tomorrow afternoon.”

A pale man emerged – the villagers drew guns, “-ahoy folks,” shouted Avon, “-it’s me.”

“It’s Avon,” the guns lowered, “-come on in,” said many gathered around a campfire. Gophy and Poseidon followed, ‘-if we say something amiss – they might go violent.’

“Not to worry,” whispered Avon, “-just follow me.” Past the campfire, the party continued deeper, flames shakily outlined dancers and casual storytellers upon huts and fences. The way fire gave a sense of security closer one remained, the scarier it seemed once one moved further, it grew dimmer, the shadows lost sense of meaning and paired alongside the fading chants – ominous nightscape propped a smirk.

Amberly lit gemstones played the part of guide lights. Immaculately decorated sheets parted to a stuffy inside, “-Outeh, how are you?”

“My friend, Avon,” rose a younger man from a bed lined with scantily clad women, “-long time no see,” he smiled. The bare-chested women shuffled around a tenderly prepared stew, “-seems the timing is immaculate, we’re ready to have dinner, care to join?”

“Outeh, you always have a fondness for tender meat.”

“My, Avon,” the young leader laughed, “-don’t misunderstand, having so many young ladies tend to my needs is nice, but... I shudder at thoughts that other village boys may never find true companionship. Speaking of which, who are those?”

“Gophy,” said she.

“Poseidon,” added the other, “-we’re travelers.”

“Don’t mind them,” said Avon, “-turns out the lady is an old family friend.”

“I see,” he nodded affirmingly, “-must be strange to see so many women around a single man, I get that look quite a lot from passing travelers. Feel bad for those who think my entourage is compromised of weak-willed individuals, trust me,” the fire under the pot shook, casting a heavy shadow as he finished, “-they’ll regret it.”

“No need for explanation,” followed Poseidon, “-I respect strong women,” he side-glanced Gophy, “-unlike someone I know.”

“Please, quit the passive aggressivity. I said I was sorry, didn’t I, sea-weed head?”

“This is fashion,” he accidentally spat at the ‘-shion,’ covering Gophy’s forehead in specks of saliva.

“Amusing,” giggled the leader, “-a fun party, I like it. So, tell me, what brings you to escort such whimsical folks around?”

“Had to run errands to Dawn. Two birds with one stone as they say.”

“Right,” stew was served alongside a loaf of bread. The ladies took a liking to Gophy’s solemn demeanor as for Poseidon, he unknowingly caught the leader’s attention. The tents separated to a saddened sigh from Avon. Gophy’s entourage of chatterboxes paused as she sought to learn why he’d exhaled, “-why the troubled expression?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” he paused, “-suppose you wouldn’t know. It’s Outeh, the strong have the right to take what they wish from the weak. Outeh’s an unbelievably flexible and fast fighter, he overwhelms the stronger opponents with agility. I witnessed a duel once – a settler strode into the village and drunkenly laid his hand on one of the villagers. You can imagine the outrage. The settler was taken to one of the settler-friendly camps. There, Outeh calmly strode into town, tracked the assaulter, and challenged him into a duel. The drunkard pulls his revolver in the middle of the street – a crowd gathered, I tell you, Outeh nonchalantly reached for his back and sliced before the gun was even fired – the projectile fell, next thing was a bloodied murder, stabbed through the jaw, the eyes and cheeks. Man, it was brutal – the man yet breathed when Outeh stood. A true monster – a path shortly opened and he left as if nothing happened. Get the picture now? A talented fighter as he has the ability to take down a gun-wielding foreigner, what about those of his kind – not even effort. He accepts challenges and kills, taking the women of the defeated.”

“Is he not just growing his harem?”

“Oh no – women willingly join his side. You know why?” he gave a somber grin, “-the man’s a homosexual. He plays for the same team.”

“So he likes men?”

“Correct, poor ol’ Poseidon is in for the time of his life.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” she sipped, “-gods are known to swing many ways, especially Poseidon, the list of his lovers go beyond what’s considered normal.”

Following said discussion; time slowed to a peaceful relaxing walk. Many went to sleep aside from patrolling guards, their little light shimmered. Day broke, and villagers rose before the sun – chatter, and clanging were heard through the earlier part of the morning.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah, it was awesome,” Gophy rose from a bed made of naked women – all had locked and shared their heat against the colder night, “-feels amazing, to be honest. How about you?”

“Was alright,” returned a sleepy Avon, “-come on, we should check on Poseidon. The trip to Outeh’s felt long, eventually – they arrived where Avon nonchalantly pulled the curtain, “-you guys there?”

Poseidon rose from an exhausted Outeh, “-morning guys,” said he informally, “-last night sure was eventful,” he playfully tapped Outeh’s cheek and stood, sheets rolled off to display a very muscular build.

Gophy rolled her eyes, “-put your trident away,” said a snarky response, “-freshen up, I rather not smell that stench.”

“Please, it’s the aroma of love.”

Avon cracked, “Aroma of what?”

“Love,” Poseidon replied sternly.

“...”

“...”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA,”

“So loud,” came another gleeful voice, “-I can barely move.”

“Gosh, we don’t want to hear the exploits.”

“God of the sea sure went fishing,” commented a jestful Avon.

“Spearfishing,” Gophy added blankly, “...” they stared silently until, “-HAHAHAHA,” another burst of laughter.