The Wielder of Death Magic

“Why the rush all of a sudden?” asked Staxius pulling a chair.

“My two-youngest brothers are in Melmark, I’ve arranged a meeting.”

“Acquainting the father-in-law, should be simple.”

“Yes, well, tis what I wish for. On another note, what of Lady Courtney, she’s absent?”

“The lady had business to attend to, what of the brothers, will they be here soon?”

“I told them to be here at 17:00.”

.....

“Another hour of wait,” said Staxius peering the clock. The encounter with Dorino, the spirit summoned caused many to fear. It was the first for an S+ alarm to ring. Trained to evacuate in an orderly manner, the populous turned to mindless robots for said amount of time.

After what seemed an eternity between speaking to Sultria and keeping track of the activity of Shadow, the focus was divided to the point of being lost for words. A sudden push of the door showed two formally dressed men. Leather shoes, dark-blue suits, neatly combed hair, and a visage similar to the Emperor. A single glance sufficed for them to walk over.

“Good evening, Emperor,” said the first, a taller man than the second.

“Good evening, big brother,” added the second.

“Hyde, Xyra, glad to see you’re well,” a grin of courtesy had the men at ease. “Take a seat.” Thus, the table of four reached capacity.

“Forgive my asking, brother, why have you called us with such urgency?”

“Dear Hyde, as straight forward as always.”

“Brother, please, do understand that we have a duty to run the sister branch.”

“I understand time is a precious commodity,” he turned to the white-haired man, “-I do think this introduction is far more important.”

“Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Staxius Haggard, leader of the Argashield Federation, Blood-king of Arda, it’s a pleasure.”

“The famed hero of the war,” mumbled Xyra, the oldest, with a flushed face, “-Xyra Sultria, the pleasure is mine, sire, to meet such an influential figure in the war, it’s an honor, truly.”

“Flattery isn’t needed,” he smiled coldly and waited for the other.

“Hyde, majesty, Hyde Sultria,” the dirtied blond-hair with blue eyes vividly darted about Staxius’s person. Intrigue is caused by admiration and lust for knowledge.

“I presume Princess Eira has acquainted herself?”

“Yes, majesty, the princess is a rather cold person. Tis the impression from her appearance – I’ve hardly seen her smile. Her melancholic beauty is far more than our brother could bear to ignore,” a sentence with the goal of provoking the Emperor. He could but shyly accept what was being said. The introduction made, a long and deep conversation followed. Many o’ drinks and snacks were called; the topic was more business and affair of state than the gossip of war. Amidst the conversation, Staxius carefully laid out bait, bait for them to bite. Bait to isolate inconsistencies to form a subjective view over what waited. A heavy judgment persona to evaluate the youth sat before him. Their mannerisms were of royalty with the flare of youth, the flare of energy, and life. They enthusiastically spoke of what intrigued their minds, matters of trade, and all.

Meanwhile the happenings in Melmark, Shadow arrived at the destination. A clear coordinate was given through her phone, one of a few with classified information and access to éclair. Currently, there were only three with the owners being, Staxius, Courtney, and Cake. The trio who left the yet to be famed Phantom.

“Shadow,” said a peculiar voice with an accent that held no remarks to pronunciations and articulation. “We’ve been awaiting ya,” said he with a relieved expression. The accent was hard to follow.

“How’s the evacuation?” asked Shadow coldly with a mask over her face.

“Going aight, I think,” said the man in a simple white-bottomed shirt, a tie, and matching pants to go with. Situated around a 6-7 hour drive from Melmark to the South-Ease, Shadow came upon a village named Plasto. The inhabitants were mostly workers for another town further down south linked by the railway. Plasto with a few hundred citizens bore more forests than infrastructure. A secluded place with a river flowing down its side from the mountains.

“Where’re the other families, what’s the status?”

“I don’t know – the Jefferson’s already got their hands on the weapons. The attack might be now or in five minutes for all I know. The head of the family is already on his way to the airfield of Marrowy.”

“Wait,” her voice sunk, “-didn’t I demand him to be present before leaving?”

“Wasn’t my call, Shadow, tis the lady of the house, she cried to her husband. She cried spouting nonsense about a vision of doom. The lady did have a talent for predicting the future.”

“Idiots,” jumped onto the bike, “-I’m going after them, have the other follow.”

“What of the supplies, we still haven’t loaded them.”

“Burn the damned thing, throw it in a river, I don’t care. They are nothing but excess weight.”

‘This is bad,’ she sped along the road to the north, ‘-if they get ambushed... what a pain.’

Over yonder came a spiral of smoke. Shadow pulled to a stop of a massacre. SUVs and cars filled with bullet-holes, the lifeless bodies of guards, and the family of Lerado. The lady thought to have given the prediction of the disaster was nowhere to be found. ‘This can’t be my fault?’ she walked narrowly avoiding the corpses. Barriers to protecting the road were broken. It all but told one story, the first in the escort crashed to break through the protection. No signs of remains as below was a large-drop. Amber of flames burnt in the broken cars.

“Hey,” she called on her phone.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“The Lerado’s are no more,” voiced Shadow resting against a toppled car, “-I want to suspect the Jefferson’s.”

“Want to, what do you mean?”

“The suit,” she said,”-it’s not what the Dark-guild uses. It’s more like,”

“More like Cimier,” interjected Staxius,”-I expected something like this. What’s the deal now?”

“Is it not obvious, I’m going straight to the Jefferson’s. I’ll call when more information is made available.

“Sure, I’ll personally relay it to the Godfather. Good work, sister,” the phone hung with him crossing the road of a big interjection. The flashy-billboards were yet to calm. ‘What a mess,’ people walked, the wind blew, and the night sky blinded by the ever-shining Capital.

The sound of the train made the air tremble. Staxius moved further into the city, further into the shadows, an alley with broken-down barriers leading under the train tracks. The reason for said barrier was of a canal, one that flowed slowly to the sea. Rebels and thugs were often the guests at said location. A hangout spot for the tough – the fact grew clearer one walked. Pillars supporting the tracks were littered with graffiti of profane origin. ‘The youth,’ said Staxius kicking a pebble into the canal. ‘Lively bunch.’

*Calling Godfather Renaud,*

“How’s it going Staxius,” returned the ever-blissful voice.

“Hello, Godfather,”

“What’s the matter, why sound so gloomy?”

“It’s concerning the Lerado.”

“...” Silence, the mention of the name had Renaud’s persona changed.

“What of ’em, did something happen?”

“They’re dead. Ambushed whilst in transit.”

“Staxius sonny, wasn’t their protection your responsibility?” the friendly tone dropped, “-I don’t want excuses, how can you let a family member die.”

“Godfather, pardon my saying this; I sent Shadow as soon as I could. The evacuation was planned to start only after she arrives – sadly, they left before my back-up, what do you expect?”

“I don’t care,” said he abruptly, “-I’m very disappointed. I should have known to settle this myself. Sonny, make sure to have the one responsible killed. And, one last thing, I’m not disappointed in you, no dear, I’m disappointed in myself ???? it’s cause my fight with Stanley, the Jefferson’s got the better of us.”

“Godfather, don’t take it to heart. Things aren’t as they seem – I’ve not heard of Cimier, what of them? They’re supposed to be the most influential family here.”

“I know what you mean,” he paused, “-listen, I’m going to fly over to Alphia – we need to honor the dead.”

“Ok, godfather, I’ll have the bodies be preserved.”

“Ok, sonny, take care.”

‘What a mess,’ he thought leaned on the pillar, ‘-now a funeral. Suppose I should contact Courtney.’

The news of the killing soon reached the other Lerado members. In pain the bodies were returned to the village hospital, one built and funded by the DG. The doctors could but sigh terrifyingly at those killed, the head of the family, and his children. A reminder of the reality of the underworld.

“Staring idly at the canal seems fun,” came a soft voice.

“Stare long enough and it stares back,” he replied.

“A mirror with that could gaze upon our very soul,” reflections of the passing train rippled the calm flow.

“Why is a lady like you venturing out these parts?”

“No idea,” said she who crouched over the ledge, “-I sensed something or someone powerful earlier, guess curiosity got the better of me.”

“You make it seem so scandalous.”

“And you make it as if this area is off-limits.”

“It is off-limits,’ he pointed to the no-trespassing sign, what remained of it.

“Oh...” she stood, “-my bad,” she grinned emptily. Her grey-colored eyes seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality, a piercing, and an intense stare. Her pointy-nose, sharp facial features, long and curly blond hair, lovely eyelashes, and bold eyebrows, “-I’ve just noticed the sign.”

“Better now,” he pushed to a stand, “-if I may intrude, care to have a fellow stranger accompany thee out of this macabre area?”

“How gentlemanly,” she chuckled politely, “-please,” giving a curtsy, they both left to whence they came. Darkness and silence were replaced with loudness; the busy city made itself known. “Thank you very much for the show of compassion. I knew not gentlemen still exist.”

“Oh, it does my lady, rare and a few – we exist.” Blinking sweetly, she gestured to disappear inside the crowd. ‘Renaud’s going to make it here by tomorrow,’ focused, he made for the hotel, checked out, and made way for Marrowy instead of Plasto. ‘A strange part of me says to watch out for Renaud. There might be a plot to have the Godfather assassinated. I can’t afford to be careless as I did with Lerado. Daemonum Gladio might have something found by tomorrow.’

*Calling Serene...*

“Hello?” came a half-asleep voice.

“Hello, it’s me.”

“Majesty,” her tone peaked in astonishment, “-why are you calling so late?”

“I need information, do we have any nightwalker in Alphia working as spies?”

“A bunch actually, why, what’s the matter?”

.....

“What of Michelle, did he infiltrate Cimier?”

“Yes, I got a report a few months ago, why?”

“I need to get in contact with him.”

“Ok, hold on a moment... Done, I’ll hang up. Take care, majesty.” To stay atop things in a time of crisis similar to now, the Blood-King formed a special training program for nightwalkers in the arts of infiltration. The immortal couldn’t be killed nor caught; no curse of sunlight meant freedom.

“Did you call for me, majesty?” said a voice in a whisper via the phone.

“Michelle, pardon my intrusion, I need information about Cimier’s activity. The news of Lerado’s massacre should have reached thy ear. Do what you must and have it readied by sun-break.”

“Understood,” the call ended in a suspended note. Soothing orchestral music played over the radio making the drive less of a bore.

“Who are you?” begged a man dowsed in blood. Tables toppled over, files littered, bodies on the floor, a figure with a demon-mask and a sword, the building had Jefferson’s trading written outside.

“I think the answer should be rather obvious,” said she with the blade against the man’s neck, “-if thou wish to live, answer my question. Were the Jefferson’s involved in today’s attack?”

“Please, spare my life,” the light-brown pants turned damp, “-in no way will I reveal what I mustn’t, it’s the law of the Dark-guild.”

“Too bad,” a single stroke beheaded the man, “-I never intended on getting answers,” she said with a snicker. “Making a fool out of me will be the last thing the Jefferson’s do – responsible or not, my reason for fighting is as clear as day. Death is coming, just thee wait.”