The Wielder of Death Magic

“I’m fine,” holding back, he turned and beelined straight for the portal leading into the garden.

“Guess I’ll accompany him,” said the queen.

Inside, flowers blossomed, a moment of peace. ‘I can’t shake the fear of this being the calm before the storm. My hand is trembling, the symbol of power, mainly, the one given by Kronos, is acting up. The power is overflowing and seeping inside my body. If this goes on for much longer, I might risk exploding – given my state, holding that much divine mana is going to be tough.’ Legs crossed and sat on the ground, Xula joined. Time went on, the past few months caught up in those hours. Placing his ear against her belly, a faint rumbling and a few kicks could be heard and felt.

“What do you plan on doing?” asked Xula.

“I think I’ll return to Oxshield before you say I’m going off without saying anything. Consider it my work – I’ll be going back and forth using the portal. I promise to be here every night for dinner,” he turned with a blank expression.

“Good enough compromise,” she stood, “-in that case, don’t forget to check on the guild. I think there’s something Serene has yet to tell you,” the look was one of concern.

.....

“Did something happen?” sensing the reluctance, he asked intently.

“If she hasn’t told you then it must be for a reason,” her heavy stance moved farther with each step, “-Arda will go through a change to. By change, I mean the acceptance of humans. You know what it will bring about – I’ve yet to choose the Ambassadors who are to head to Oxshield. The town has been built already, go give it a visit. I think Haru has been there quite often, since her guild is involved,” on those parting words, the queen headed back to her office.

‘Arda is changing as well. I better focus on the kingdom that matters. I’ve done everything I could at the capital. Going there once or twice to make supplies for the DG. I might give Pandora, the ground floor, to the trader’s guild. Haru is going to need someplace to set-up shop in the capital,’ having a vague idea of what was to come, teleporting outside the ancient tree – serving as housing for the capital. Elves high up on the foliage of the forest, walked across from lookout to lookout using suspended bridges.

“Majesty,” they waved and bowed.

“Good job,” he returned the wave and walked further into the forest. ‘I forgot how massive this place was,’ having walked a couple of hundred of meters, the trees remained static.

“Fly over there,” voiced Adete, “-you’re in Arda. Everyone here is non-human, you don’t have to worry, Blood-king.”

“I forgot,” the time spend in hiding subconsciously made him hold back as to not draw attention.

“Here we go,” direction the East, dark-feathered wings sprouted. *Whoosh,* each flap gave birth to a powerful gust of wind, not looking back, he bolted up through the foliage, breaking out the thick forest as if an erupting volcano. A boom resounded across as he flew towards the newly built village.

‘Here we are,’ hovering above, ‘-this is more like a town than a village. Surrounded by walls in an asymmetric Hexagonal shape, a river ran through the middle. Thanks to the sun, the roofs of the buildings and houses seemed to be red and orange.

“Let’s see,” coming in from the East, a big entrance with paths leading into the forest outback. Traders and merchants could be seen wearing straw-hat with donkeys pulling their cargo.

“Who might you be?” asked a guard stood atop the entrance, inside the stone brick battlements.

“Do you not know who I am?” covering the forehead as the sun made it hard to stare up, Staxius asked with a normal tone.

“Should I know you?” the guard fired back sarcastically.

“Well you should,” in a blink of an eye, the man stood right beside.

“Majesty,” startled, the guard dropped to the floor, “-I apologize for my rudeness,” said the young beast-man with features closer to a wolf than human.

“Water under the bridge,” he said and peered out into town, from here, the buildings seemed higher than in the air. Slated roofs of buildings with two and more floors. As if stairs, some went in ascending order, the highest being of five-floors, excluding the ground floor, to the lowers being one story tall. Bearing traditional Ardanian craftsmanship, tis was the work of the Dwarves. Stone brick path in a lovely arrangement spread around town as if veins carrying blood.

“I’ll head out,” with a nod, he jumped and landed as if a feather. Caring bags with vegetables and tomatoes, with hats, mothers walked with their children in tow. Some spoke joyfully whilst others remained silent and vigilant. ‘Residential district?’ he thought and took the main-street.

‘The river,’ reaching over, elevated with stairs leading down, as opposed to rocks and dirt – it seemed gentler with an ever-so steep inclination made of grass. Jumping over the railings which seemed to be there for the protection of young-ones, would have been a bad idea. The river flowed with brute force; some could easily mistake it for a rapid. Nonetheless, it was apparent that some amount of work was done to make it part of the town’s defining characteristic. At intervals, bridges linking the two parts were guarded by soldiers bearing the Royal Crest.

‘Why are the royal guards here?’ asked whilst holding onto the railing made of iron in which had a flowery design, ‘-isn’t this town supposed to be for the better understanding of our Kingdoms.’ Intrigued, he walked along the river, benches, and lovely scenery with trees scattered here and there.

“No further access from this point,” blocked two-guards with giant-axes.

“Why is it so?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Majesty,” realizing who stood before them, they knelt as courtesy. Passers-by stopped and wondered, their faces filled with anticipation and bliss.

“Mommy, mommy,” a child’s voice was heard at the back, “-the black-guards are bowing down to that man, who is he?” he pointed.

“Shush,” hurryingly, the mother picked up her child and scurried till she was out of sight.

“I’m waiting,” arms crossed, he demanded an answer.

“Sire,” voiced the other guard, “-if tis answer you seek then do head to the Bridge Etem,” he pointed west, “-about five-kilometers.”

“Very well,” he turned, “-be sure to stand by thy oath. Royal Guards are vowed to protect the royal family, however, if ever, the guards are sent to a town or village. They are to be diligent and protect the people the same as they would the king and queen.”

“Understood sir,” giving a salute, the imposing figure turned to the main-street and vanished.

“That was scary,” exchanging glances, “-let’s hope that the commander doesn’t create unnecessary unrest,”

“Given his demeanor, I doubt that,” facepalmed the other, “-that eccentric prodigy is going to make a mistake.”

‘Bridge Etem,’ approaching the location, ‘-now this is interesting.’ Linked to both sides, a platform of which was a few hundreds of meters in size. Besides, a military outpost with tents. The platform itself had merchant stalls and various items up for display.

“COME ON, THIS ISN’T WHAT WE PLANNED!” echoed from the camp, being guarded by two-knights in silvery armor, Staxius approached.

“This is what we planned, you’re being a BRAT,” voiced another in lesser high-spirit.

“THE SELLING OF UNDIES TO THE HUMANS IS UNACCEPTABLE,” voice the first stranger.

“WE MAKE THEM SOFTER THAN THOSE THEY HAVE,” argued the other, “-HERE, TAKE IT AND FEEL THE QUALITY.”

“GET THAT FILTH AWAY FROM ME,” a loud clanging followed by the tent moving, “-HERESY, I’M SURE IT’S USED, I CAN SMELL THE FISH OFF IT.”

*SMACK,* “-THAT’S BECAUSE IT’S BEING SOLD ON THE PLATFORM,” in rage, the curtains flew opened. “I can’t believe this,” panting, with ears moving erratically, “-that brat doesn’t have what it takes to lead the guard details here,” hairs stood.

‘Is this a regular occurrence,’ staring at the reactions, ‘-I guess so,’ none seemed bothered, a simple enough conclusion.

“Excuse me?”

“DON’T TOUCH ME,” paired with a hiss, her tail stood up straight. ‘Oh no,’ staring up, “-I meo-ucked up.”

“You meo-ucked up,” voiced in jest, “-that’s new.”

“I’m sorry,” ears lowered and tail slumped, the cat-lady stared the floor.

“Come on, Haru,” holding her chin, “-a representative of the Ardanian council mustn’t be so willing to lower her head,” a calm and understanding voice, “-care to explain what happened inside?”

“-Y-Yes,” startled, she breathed, “-these,” pointing at a box with clothes, “-the Trader’s Guild purchased big shipments of silk and cotton. I figured it would be a good investment – humans sure love to pamper themselves,” holding one with a leopard print, “-this one is my favorite by far,” no tact, no shame, she held it as if being a trophy.

“The scent of fish is going to get stuck in the fabric,” voiced Staxius, “-have you thought this through?”

“Yes, of course,” hands on her hips, “-I made sure to smell and check if any of the product is worthy of being worn. I tried some on myself,” she laughed.

“You didn’t,” the eyes grew cold, “-tell me you didn’t,” it drifted into being monotonous.

“I’m joking,” to which she slapped the side of his chest wildly, “-FUNNY, FUNNY,” she stared up, “-FUNNY ISN’T IT?” she gritted, her retina went from large to as tiny and sharp as a grain of rice.

“Yes, hysterical,” said in the most lifeless way ever, Haru laughed with tears falling off. “Majesty, you’re hilarious.”

“Jokes aside, I’d like to meet and see what is happening around this town. Bring that carton of panties inside the tent. Produce are meant to be sold – the only judge of it being worthy is customers, no one else,” wise words, he entered, the Knights bowed fully.

“What do you want?” asked a kid with one hand in a strainer and the head wearing a saucepan as opposed to a helmet. Behind, stuck on a wooden board, a map of the town.

“Do you need help?” asked Staxius.

“Yes please,” the voice seemed timid.

“You sure are light for a kid,” taking off the strainer, Staxius picked the boy by his arms and placed him onto the table, “-how old are you?”

“I’m 34 years old,” dangling his feet, “-from the Dymph race – one hailing from Mother nature. An off-spring from a caring Dryad of the north. My name is Triste, our race isn’t that known around the province. People often mistake me for a child, but it’s thanks to this that I can live on for eternity,” holding a smile, the head bobbed left to right. “I may look like a human,” *poof,* wings made of leaves sprouted, “-but I’m also not,” childish laughter followed.

Turning to Haru, ‘what’s the meaning of this?’ he asked with expression alone.

‘He’s always like this,’ she replied by shaking her head and closing her eyes.

“Listen,” just as he tried to speak, “-majesty, what brings you here?” the Dymph interjected.

“Well...”

“Let me guess, you’re here for sightseeing,” cut-off once again, “-isn’t that right. So, what is it that you want to look at?”

“I want to ask about...”

“Have you seen the bridges?” and again, “-they’re lovely pieces of architecture,” he smiled.

“Will you let me...”

“WHY IS HARU HERE?” turning to the demi-human, “-GET THAT LADY AWAY FROM HERE,” standing on the table, he chanted, “begone, begone, begone.”

“You’re pissing me off,” holding the boy’s mouth shut, “-will you shut up and listen,” cold and menacing, an aura of despair let loose.

“I would not have done that if I were you,” Haru mumbled.

“Why?” holding the boy in mid-air, he turned.

*Sniffles,* as if being wound up like a music box, *CRIES.*

“WHO THE HECK MADE MY CHILD CRY?” from the ground, burst out of a tree-trunk, “-was it you?” a lady with white hair on which had flowers. “TRISTE!” she screamed, “-YOU BASTARD,” holding out her hands, ice shards shot out as if a gun.

*Death Element: Magical Barrier,* letting go of the kid, a reflex, the projectiles crashed and formed tiny sparkles.

“MOMMY, HE MADE TRISTE CRY,” the complaining continued.

“HOW DARE YOU,” voiced the lady.

.....

“Annoying,” sighed, *Dark-Arts: Mana Cancellation,* a dash followed by a single touch, “-will you calm down?”