The Wielder of Death Magic

“Good speech,” he said. “-Look to the cityscape, the display of lights and varying intensities is something else. Rotherham is beautiful, Odgawoan is far prettier. I made the judgment with full bias. Should say a word or two about how well-defined the town is.”

“Igna, are you still willing to join the world of entertainment?”

“Yes,” he said, “-I’ll take to the stage with a band of my own. There was only one person who could have changed the world using music; her life was taken prematurely; I don’t want it to happen again.”

“Here’s my deal,” he leaned with elbows to his knees, “-create a band and gain recognition. I don’t need much, let the people know there are a new talented bunch of musicians prowling the streets. Do that and we’ll sign a contract. You’ll have a shot at the high life of entertainment, whilst I’ll honor my promise so many months ago.”

“Then, tis a deal,” they formally shook hands, “-by the way,” said Igna of which Amsey halted in response, “-I have transferred a million to your account. Consider it a gift for visiting an old friend.”

“Free money,” he cheered, “-or so I’d wish. I’ll take it as a sign of good faith. However, once the stage is yours, I’ll return it ten-fold.”

.....

“How much do you hate the other conglomerates?”

“Hate?” he side-glance in contempt, “-I loathe them. Those bastards have made a mockery of the Odgawoan, them and their influence in the underworld, it pisses me off. Talented idols kill themselves or so says the corrupt law enforcement. I hate needless deaths, especially those of pure malice and no purpose.”

“Understood,” replied Igna. The guests were escorted by éclair to the roof where they took off and made for his mansion. The talk left a little void in Igna’s already empty heart. He watched on at the changed field, full-throttled swings mercilessly carved the tender ground.

Blonde locks fluttered into sight, “-have you called for me?” bowed Miira, her tone and posture spoke of seriousness.

“Yes,” replied Igna leaned against the balustrade, “-the higher they are, the harder they fall. I’ve considered other options and it led to one answer. We have to start a band and break into the spotlight. Gaining the support of fans in an unknown province is a smart idea. Tis a tall order, and one I know just how to accomplish,” he confidently walked to grasp her shoulders, “-I need to use Kronos’s power.”

Her glistening large pupils retorted the statement, her hands trembled to grab his wrists, “-are you sane?” her white lashes narrowed to frown, “-going back in time is sacrilege, even for a god.”

“I know,” he took her frightened hands, “-there won’t be a need to alter the past. I just need to be present at a single none caring event.”

“Please explain,” she escaped to the beach-style chairs, “-I need the details, else, there’s no traveling back.”

“I know, and I don’t expect it to be easy. Here are my plans. Aceline’s murder by gunshot was told to the world, they didn’t know of her revival. Then again, she died again by a gun from the mob. We’ll travel to the moment she falls down the hotel and grab her soul and consciousness, her body will be found dead and the future will not be affected.”

“No physical actions, tis not imposing on the time but rather, on the death reaper’s terms.”

“Terms of which I’m free to manipulate and do as is pleased.”

“Isn’t it possible to search for her soul in our era, she could have been reincarnated.”

“A plausible solution. We could search for her soul... what if she’s a prominent figure or trapped in the afterlife.”

“The former is the better option,” her visage reflected resolve, “-I’ll do it, it shan’t take much time. Let’s take to the Shadow Realm.”

Between the deadly match, an all-encompassing pressure called for a premature stop. Looking towards the balcony showed naught but the distortion of air, the same as staring peaks to an open flame. No heed was paid, Draconis resumed the battle.

‘Scary,’ thought Igna, ‘-the castle of Rosespire,’ footsteps echoed down the thorn room, “-is a menacing place.’ A reddish tipped arrow flung from the inside pillars, “-careful,” he remarked with a slothful stop. The projectile missed, “-don’t spear people for greetings,” he caught it after a brief look.

“Fast as usual,” said a disgruntled Adete, “-my hair and clothes are a mess,” she pouted.

“You’re the one to blame,” escaped a smug remark.

“Move your feet,” thundered Miira impatiently waiting at the entrance.

“You’re the one who got shouted at,” winked Adete, “-I get the last laugh,” to which she breathed a monotonous, ‘-ha’. *BITE.*

The walk carried to the town inside the castle walls, the manors were grand and pristine. Cottage and taverns, there was no restriction to whom could visit. No class system, only monarchs at the top and people of the Shadow Realm below. The population had grown into the thirty-thousands. Most of which were men who fought dearly till the last breath. Life inside wasn’t bad, “-they look to be having fun.”

“They are, the Shadow Realm’s a perfect place to spend one’s afterlife. Tis the same as starting in another world. Granted, their purpose is to join fights when the master desires.”

“Don’t they get bored?” the vexing descent into the noble district arrived.

“They don’t, we have anything and everything, they but need to ask.”

“Still, it’s deserted for how many people I’ve trapped here,” the promenade took to the outer edge of the district.

“Rosespire is big enough to accommodate a hundred thousand people, and tis a low estimate. Most of the newcomers choose to stay in villages, some prefer hot, others cold, and many the tranquility of nature.” Therein came a familiar sight, the gates to the first mansion. “-Let’s go,” she waved to unlock a cage, “-what we seek is inside.”

Up it was, along with the arduous twists and turns. Words were kept at a minimum; she darted past the lobby and straight into the attic. “We’re here,” said she, a hatch opened to a party of cobwebs and dust.

“Here I thought there weren’t any other life forms,” he coughed.

“No, the realm is growing to be a secondary world. Why is it other gods have a realm of their own, tis for the sake of power? The bigger and better domain is, the stronger is the god. It’s the reason why you were able to fight Kion without using the element. Mantia is the manifestation of the Shadow Realm in the real world, it takes on the shape of owner’s will, and in your case, it’s the manifestation of Origin’s tremendous power.”

“The death element is strong, the power of immortality and rebirth at twice the strength sounds nice but has far more drawbacks. I rather it stays at a manageable pace, don’t want to end up like last time.”

“Enough,” she flung open a chest, “-here’s the portal to the flow of time. Take my hand and don’t even dare move. Heads up, it won’t be a full passage into the world of the past, we won’t see faces nor be able to communicate. Take her soul and we leave, if those terms are acceptable, then we’ll depart.”

“I agree.” She dive-bombed the empty coffer as did Igna. The very concept of reality and what it meant to be human, god, or devil, shifted to a concurrent link of nothing and everything. A gentle outline of Miira’s hands led the way, he watched unable to move, let alone communicate.

“We’re here,” said she gently.

“What happened?” he snapped to, ‘-I’m floating, I can’t see, nor hear, then how did I hear Miira?’

“Don’t think too much,” said she, “-we’re at the point of no return. Use thy mind, not the senses, use thy mind’s eye and see what is before us.”

‘It’s the past...’ the scene of Aceline’s death played slowly. She jumped to save another, vagueness dulled any sense of reasonable logic, ‘-she’s proud,’ said a secondary voice, ‘-don’t overthink, rescue her soul and get out.’

*Lost soul of the brave, lost soul of the forgotten. Heed me, heed my voice, for I’ve come to rescue from the vestige of regret, follow as we move to a better place; Box of Soul – Soulfeld.*

*Release,* clapped Miira, destiny itself flew past to a sudden reawakening. ‘What happened?’ the fingers curled, ‘-I feel good, maybe a slight headache, nothing I can’t live with.’

“You’re back?” inquired Miira in a desolate state, her face and arms were burnt. Her lovely hair was spoiled and left draping over the chair.

“Hey,” rushed to her side, “-what happened?”

“I fought,” she coughed, “-going back in time requires a fight against the Guardian. In other words, I fought myself,” her breathing slowed, “-I used most of my strength to challenge your soul along with the flow. If nothing else, I helped in my master’s endeavor.”

“Cut the melodramatic speech.”

*See the unseen, feel the unfelt, knowledge deep within, awaken for I order so; Eye of Truth.*

‘The curse of blasphemy, the curse to punish any who dares glimpse and alter the past. Time is ruthless, she conveniently left out said piece of information, how very caring,.’ A warming flow of solace exuded down the shoulders and into his index finger, ‘-a simple fix,’ he touched her forehead, *Partial Realm Expansion: Mantia* a bubble swallowed her injured body.

“Begone unsightly fiends,” a host of symbols layered atop the hovering cocoon, *-Ancient-Arts of Cleansing: Deliverance.* Words turned daggers impaled the burnt marks, she cried and yelled to naught but a serene balcony. Her water-like cocoon marred in dirtied black of which disappeared into a vortex. *Mana Control: Healing Element Variant: Restoration.*

She harshly landed, “-could have been a little bit tactful.”

“No,” he brazenly replied, “-you must take the blame for not speaking of the repercussion. What if it had killed you, why didn’t the thought cross thine mind. I would have found another way to reach the desired results.”

“No, it’s fine,” she inched to the edge, “-I said I would help, so I helped. I didn’t’ accomplish much in the battle for Glenda, I was hesitant.”

“Listen,” he poured juice, “-being hesitant is a good thing when greater wit is necessary. Being reckless works for muscle-brained fighters, you don’t fit said demography.”

“Are you disappointed?” she sipped.

“Not in the least, I’m happy you staked everything on my whim. Promise to speak of the deeper meaning the next time I call for help.”

“To be frank,” she gulped the drink, “-I had full confidence in you. Deep down, my heart said to believe, and I did, the results speak for themselves. We captured a soul and I was healed from the curse of blasphemy. Forgive my impertinence, compared to the life as Staxius Haggard, the current vessel is far stronger. Watching the former fight felt wrong, he always did so without care for himself. He took on curses after curses and strived to make it his own. The current vessel relies on others and has trust in his entourage, something the old lacked.”

“Experience and wisdom I suppose,” he chuckled, “-go rest, I’ll handle it from here.”

“Good day to you then,” she affectionately gave a hug and took to the shadow realm.