The Wielder of Death Magic

“I’m worried about you more than what you stand for,” she said, “-listen, I don’t have much time left,” the car from which she leaped skid to a stop with the passenger wailing his arm in anger, “-the director’s a bit on the crazy side,” she tiptoed and marked his cheeks with a gentle peck, “-Igna, promise me, one thing, you’ll rethink everything from the start. Who you are, what you stand for, and who you want to protect, and those who need to be destroyed, after assessing everything, crumble and burn them. Only then will what you really need to do become apparent. Tis a promise from me to you,” she smiled, “-let me stand at thy side,” her shoulders dropped to grab and hold his right-hand, “...” the cold rain paled her skin, even so, a spark of flush rounded on her nose.

“I understand,” he said, “-actions speak more than words,” he placed his empty hand upon hers which had sandwiched his right, “-thank you for the warm words.” Hence marked the start of their relation. Many prospecting partners came and went, many wanted his power and others his wealth – when he stood against the odds, the prospective interests showed their true intent and ran. In more ways than one, Igna found himself truly alone, ‘-treat people how one wishes to be treated,’ the karmic saying affected his life. After having pushed away many families and friends, he found himself standing outside the capital in a heavy thunderstorm. The bittersweet revelation was known deep down. A running nose and soaking wet clothes guided him under the shade of a weak tree. He sat; the damp dirt stained the clothes beyond recognition. The phone barely had battery, Aceline’s words were truthful and cause for reflection. It would take éclair five hours to locate his master – the rain kept assaulting the manmade castle of bricks – night closed, headlights upon the expressway lit the wet road, an escort of a few black cars rumbled at walking speed.

“Over there,” he pointed, “-I’ve found the young master,” the door unlocked, a parasol opened, the rain beat against the coating, éclair’s glasses fogged the longer he moved. Arms guards moved to secure a perimeter. A moat formed around he who sat with one knee to his chest, “-éclair,” he said coldly – there was an air of change, one palliative, and calm.

‘Master’s aura is different,’ he observed, crossing the moat which had gathered around the tree, “-how do you feel?” he asked.

“I feel normal,” he replied, clenching and relaxing his fingers, “-the weirdest of things happened. As I sat under the tree, lightning crackled and struck, the electricity jolted throughout my body and mind – I died and reawakened. The answer was before me all this time, I was too blind to see.”

“Pray explain young master,” he approached with the parasol.

.....

“Small details, the devil is in the details,” he added enigmatically, “-reach enlightenment,” the handheld to the sky, crackles and burnt marks resembling ferns layered his pale skin, “-éclair,” he clambered against the tree, “-I know what I have to do, and I’ll need help in doing so.”

“Will do,” replied éclair. The screeching of the brutish wind amplified, a ball of purple summoned shy of Igna’s head, he reached into the Box of Alche and removed a pair of glasses.

“Master?”

He shot an inquisitive look backward, “Wandering why I conjured glasses?”

“Yes.”

“Peer into my pupils,” he said, “-look deeply, past the retina and further in.” The butler obliged his master’s request and squinted for a closer look, “-I see what looks like an inverted pentagram, no, it changed into a dragon, wait, again, it changed into wings, what’s happening?”

“The cycle of symbols,” said Igna, “-after inheriting my true memories,” he pulled his sleeve and showed cursed writings, “-assimilating what I took time, who am I, I keep questioning the reason of my existence – before Alfred, my reply would have been, ‘-protect what is mine and retake what was stolen with interest’ the priorities aren’t the same, my answer now is, ‘-dethrone the gods, make them suffer’ quite the conundrum, isn’t it,” he kept a neutral frown, “-I see everything constantly, the mana-lines and the very fabric of reality,” therein, the symbol altered into a circle, “-the symbol of power for the cursed king – Void,” thunder resounded across the land, éclair’s heart jumped, ‘-intense.’

“Look behind you,” said Igna.

“The tree’s destroyed.”

“Correct,” he said, “-if I stare too intently at something, my mind automatically translates the structure of said entity and highlights weak point. Goes the same for humans,” he looked on into the night sky, “-take the heavens by force,” the arms reached upward, “-or so I want to say,” the elbows dropped, “-the glasses are limiters to dampened what I’ve inherited.”

On said Friday evening, great change was brought to Igna and what he held. The personality softened, or so what was read on the outside – more than truth, he grew truly uncaring to what wasn’t interesting. What followed was the true restart of Phantom and Arda – the goal, stability.

Six years later, stood at the entrance outside the cinema hall, the goal mildly elapsed expectation.

“Igna,” gentle taps refocused his attention.

“-Sorry?”

“You zoned out,” said Aceline. Night was upon them yet again, an afterparty in celebration of the movie was hosted at a nearby hall.

“-Not going?” he asked, moving to a bench shy of a few bushes.

“Not in the mood,” she leaned on her hands, “-I don’t care for it.”

“Well, you should,” he said, “-a world-class superstar needs to show the people what they want.”

“I’m tired of lying to the public,” she exhaled, “-Igna...”

“I know what you mean,” he looked on at the gathered crowd of suspicious fans outside the fence, “-going public will but hamper thy career.” Various luxury cars shuffled through the gates and made for the ‘affluent’ district of Rotherham. Among the stars was Aceline’s co-star, Johna Et, the male lead that played the detective. He looked about in search of something or someone. Handsome as he was, the man was blessed by an unparallel acting talent, he’d flaunt his longing look right and left, nonchalantly scanning the crowd of which screamed.

“The actor in vogue,” said Aceline, “-a man of hard work and talent.”

“Well, the actor is coming this way.”

“Aceline,” the handsome man stood kindly before the actress, “-the movie turned out awesome,” he smiled, the latter radiated light and kindness. He took a look side-ways, landed on Igna, said nothing, and reached for her hands; “-the fans say we look great together.”

“I suppose they do,” she kept a guarded posture.

“Let’s go to the afterparty,” he suggested, “-I mean, there’s no point in standing gloomily under the night sky.”

“I’m fine where I am,” she replied courteously, “-besides, the afterparty is but a reason for the stars to get drunk and force themselves onto unsuspecting fans.”

“What are you talking about?” he gestured in a way to say, ‘-how ignorant.’

“You think me a fool?” her voice rose, “-I appreciate the invitation,” she slid closer to Igna and laid her head on his shoulder, “I’d rather sit in the dark in the company of someone I care about than to mingle with strangers.”

“Please,” he bent and took her hand, “-the scene we shot, the romance I displayed was the truth, can’t you accept my feelings?”

“Accept the fakeness?” she chuckled; “-I think not.”

“So, are you two romantically involved?” he shot back with arms akimbo, “-huh, am I to assume correct?”

“Assume whatever thee wishes,” she said, “-doesn’t involve me or him.”

“You must be kidding me,” the nice-face dropped, “-what’s the point in staying here with a nobody. The acting career depends on connections, I’m saying this for your own good, you ought to make friends with anyone and everyone, tis the key to a life of stardom.”

“He speaks true,” said Igna.

“See, even the man agrees.”

She lifted her head and side-glanced murderously of which her hands tightly pinched the thighs, “-he speaks true,” she returned the sentence with blatant skepticism.

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” he sighed, “-tell me, Et, what are you after, her body or her affection?”

He hesitated for a second, “-her b-, no, affection, yes, affection.”

“Not a great actor,” returned Igna, “-take away the camera and what is left is a lucky man scouted by an agency; who also was reported to have slept his way to the top. Am I, or am I not correct?”

“How slanderous, how dare you?”

“Pardon my deduction, detective,” he played a mockery of the actor’s prior role, “-my sources are never wrong. Suppose there is hard work in trying to last more than a few minutes.”

“How did yo-” the smile fell.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” chuckled Aceline, “-this nobody here is Igna Haggard, else I say, the man who pays your wage?”

“Ha-ha!” he pointed, “-Aceline did sleep her way as well, don’t patronize me when thee have done the same.”

“What if she did, is that an issue?”

“N-no, i-its not,” he backed a few steps, “-I was only pointing at the hypocrisy.”

“Well,” he stood and placed a hand upon the actor’s shoulder, “-don’t feel threatened, I never said what thee did was wrong. In a way, I ought to tip my head to thy gallantry. You’re a good actor, don’t waste the talent on needless hunts.”

“Understood,” he nodded, “-I’ll try my best, sir.”

“Call me Igna,” he extended the hand of friendship.

“I will, Igna,” the grips tightened, “-till we meet again,” he left with a lighter demeanor.

“Consider me impressed, I thought the murderous Igna would have taken his life or intimidated the man beyond repair.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” he spun on his heel, “-as the apostle to Goddess Elysia, there’s a place I wish to take thee.”

“Our bedchambers?” she coyly suggested.

“Not now,” he tapped her forehead, “-dirty jokes will get you nowhere.”

‘Wasn’t a joke,’ she murmured in a pout.

“You said something?’

“No, no,” her head shook briefly, “-where are we going?” the expression eased.

“To my domain,” *snap,* heavy-black double doors materialized, “-the Shadow Realm,” he pushed the handle, it bellowed, “-let’s go.”

The transfer of realm, the passage into another world – only knowledge Elysia passed was the tales of gods having their own world to rule and build, a bright white light shifted from Rotherham’s cityscape to a luxurious interior of a manor, “-where are we?”

“Inside the Shadow Realm,” he said and stretched his arms, “-the place I call home,” jacket was thrown onto a hanger beside an opened door to the balcony, “-follow me,” he said.

“Welcome home, master,” a few fluffy winged entities spoke in a high-pitch.

“Thank you,” he replied, “-would thee be so kind to prepare us a meal?”

“Understood,” said a pink-colored fluff, which soon hovered past Aceline’s confused regard. Night was upon the city, two moons, one larger and green, the other, crescent-shaped and red, hid behind the cover of the clouds, in a way, it resembled two figures sleeping under a warm blanket.

“The shadow realm?” she shuffled onto the terrace, “-the place looks identical to the manor in Rosespire.”

“Look to your right.’

“THE CASTLE!” her jaw dropped, “-where are we?”

“The Shadow Realm,” he said, “-the world reflects the Overworld, tis the name given to where we come from. I won’t bore with details, consider this place a reflection.”

“No, no,” she rushed forth, “-the cityscape is far more impressive than back home, I mean, it’s the dead of night and the city’s still alive. Even here,” she pointed at the various manors, “-it seems friendlier.”

“That’s because,” he turned to watch the view, “-it is peaceful, very peaceful in fact.”