The Wielder of Death Magic

Moans and grunts fill the lush and quiet night, footsteps of maids scurried from one end to the next, the twinkling of anklets melodically tells of the hurry. Occasional whispers end in giggles, at which point a loud shush resounds. Stars permeate the night more than is perceived, among the dots of white, red, and yellow, a particular formation draws the blank stare of a lonely lady. A round bed veiled behind curtains, the out of rhythm breathing of an older man, she watches through the arched frame, ‘-la constellation symbolize le relèvement,’ 1crosses her pressed lips.

“Lovely,” grunts the man, “-I want more,” he pushes, the bedrocks, “-but my times over,” weight shifts, the bed raises, “-I’ll tell king Juvey the deal’s on,” belt buckles, the zip shuts, the door locks. Tears on her unblemished brownish skin, marks of red on the white blanket, she raises to lock her chest against her knee, wrapping her arms around both, ‘-why me,’ she washes the stars pass, ‘-is it punishment for betrayal?’

The next day rose as if nothing happened, same old mundane morning. Maids rushed into the room, each took a limb, clothed the lady, and had her before a skin, attendants dropped to her thighs and cleaned, a pointless smile kept the pretty visage sparkling, no life in the eyes, the door blasted in a kick, “-where’s my priced doll,” fired the epitome of a warrior’s body. The muscles pressed, almost in a way to reject the thin line of fabric. No queen in sight, he forced through, shoving aside wary maids, “-where is she?” he glared, stopping at the doorway.

She but turned and held her shoulders, “-I heard you did a good job yesterday,” he entered, brushed aside those trying to mend wounds of the previous encounter, “-I have rewards,” he pulled a syringe, “-work more for me,” he leaned and pressed lips on her cheeks, “-good work,” the needle dove into her arms, a shot lit her eyes – vision blurred, to which he tapped her cheeks and made for the exit.

“Majesty, pardon my saying,” interjected an attending physician, “-any more shots and she’ll overdose.” The standing crowd shuddered, he stopped at the door and scowled over the shoulder, “-a lowly peasant dares correct my judgment?” he grabbed and cracked the wall, “-an obvious newcomer. Where’s the head maid?” panic filled the halls – later on, the one in question was brought onto the gallows facing the servant’s quarters, separate from the main palace by a stream. The difference, night and day, one side bore a lush green ground, well-kept walkways, brick pathways, the other, mud, and occasional rocks. The ground cried from constant assault by a heavy vehicle’s in and out – additionally, the tempest of gunfire and soldier practice.

“Majesty,” cried a lady in her maid dress, the brick of a king pulled her by the hair and threw her at the gallows’ stairs. Rough soldiers pressed their weight against a wooden fence separating each area, one side training, the other, stables, and hanging area, “-mercy, please,” she sobbed, he didn’t care.

.....

“Take off her clothes,” shouted the fighters, to which he rose an arm proudly, the simple attackers cheered in admiration. A sheathed dagger landed at the stairs, “-put it up her arze,” laughed the bystanders, he turned loudly at the thrower, “-who threw it!” thundered, the cheerfulness dropped instantly.

“It was me,” saluted a trembling soldier, to which, Old Cray wiggled his index, summoning an unknown in the crowd. He dipped between the row, similar to a box entering the ring, thrust himself into a strong respectful salute.

“What’s your name.”

“Ryan Antone, my liege.”

“Well, Antone,” glancing at the dagger, “-there’s a shack outback, the hay should prove sufficient bedding,” looking at the crowd, “-to anyone feeling frustrated, here I serve my head maid as compensation. Line up and follow Ryan’s lead. Long as she’s able to work tomorrow, do what you wish,” a menacing look of disgust landed at her, “-look out for yourself next time, the physician is fired, and so are you.” An attending butler hurried to the king’s side, handed a towel, and shook his head apologetically. Screams of mercy cried in between the animal noise, a group of fighters gladly pulled her by the hair and into the barn, the rest – cruelty without care, commonplace in lands ruled by Old Cray. Off the dirtied area and into the freshness of the palace grounds, “-Scorpio, you’ve proven a very useful man. With the maid gone, I’ll need someone to take her place, perhaps a head butler, someone competent.”

“My liege, finding one who you deem competent is naught more than a needle in a haystack.”

“You making a joke since they took her in the barn?” he grinned, the rusty-golden beard shifted, “-I’m an old man and I tire easily. Find someone who’s young, you know what?” they stopped at the entrance, “-the tradition of old, host a tournament, you have one to two weeks. Assemble names – I’ll only accept submission from members of the staff, one per person.”

“Understood,” he bowed, to which elated guests shortly arrived in luxurious vehicles. A familiar old man rose from a convertible, “-King Juvey, I must say, enjoying the night in the company of royalty is a one in a lifetime experience,” the nose and cheeks flushed, “-I was wondering.”

“-someone’s excited,” a rough-sounding laugh eased the air, “-another small loan of ten-million...” the conversations stopped, “-SCORPIO!”

“Yes?”

“Stop standing around and eavesdropping,” a look of, ‘-move else you die,’ fired in his direction, “-I apologize,” no time wasted, the butler made for the barn. Stomach tearing cries shook the very ground, he passed the horde and grabbed the attacker, “-that’s enough.”

“How the fuck?”

“It’s just Scorpio,” said one in the crowd.

“The butler’s here to hit her too?” they laughed, the lady bled from her stomach and arms, “-right, my bad,” said the forth most fighter zipping his pants, “-I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

‘Animals,’ he shook his head, “-his majesty ordered for another five-kilometer run, after which you’re expected for training on the shooting grounds.” Obedient as could be, the mere mention sparked diligence and order in the ranks, a line formed, and soon, the crowded space eased into the woeful sight.

“T-thank you,” she sniffled, her arms trembled, “-I was g-going t-to d-die.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, “-I’m sorry, I should have been there to take the heat. Hiring that physician was my idea.”

“No, I wanted to see our queen smile again...”

“There you are,” a worried crowd arrived, the gossip swept the castle, in the thick of five maids assigned outside duties, a familiar face with grips on a medical bag ran to the lady’s side.

“-my apologies,” said the doctor, “-I should have kept my mouth shut. I’ve called an ambulance; my hospital will take care of the rest. Scorpio, help me.”

Paramedics rushed a stretcher up the eastern entrance, the place reserved for the armored vehicles, including tanks and supply trucks. Scorpio helped transport the wounded, the prison-like landscape within the castle changed into the asphalted outside, “-I’m sorry, Scorpio,” apologized the maid. The trunk slid shut, and off the latter went to the capital. Simultaneously, a car pulled across the street, a figure exited the front passenger seat and waved, “-Scorpio!” he cried.

‘Dyu?’

“How’s it going man,” he crossed the road and exchanged greetings. Dyu, a strange, friendly, and oddly intelligent guy, such were many first impressions. He bore unusually pale skin, a clear giveaway of not being native to Elendor, orangish colored hair, a chin-split; on the otherwise strong jawline – hazel-colored pupils, thick eyebrows, and sharp eyelashes – the cheeks were riddled by freckles. The suit, dark gray, very formal and expensive, didn’t quite match his overall feel. “-Why the long face?”

“Just another day on the job,” he sighed, “-man, I wish I had your life,” a glance at the cool car made the butler swoon.

“Let’s go for a drive then.”

“Like right now?”

“Yeah, now. Juvey’s got a trip to the capital – some kind of seminar between allies of the Wracia Empire,” a pull of the sleeve brandished a golden-rimmed watch, thin and elegant, “-three, two, one,” the royal transport passed their stead, “-right on time.”

“Dyu,” they crossed the street, “-I’m glad we’re friends.” The drive took the scenic route of the upper plateau, mountain in the distance, they drove to a viewpoint, pulled onto a vacant parking lot on edge of a sharp cliff.

Beer cans opened at the view, both leaned against the hood and drank, “-I can’t do it anymore, I’ve had enough of dealing with the King’s shit. The only reason I’m treated differently is that I have balls between my legs, that son of a bitch is a sexist fuck. Wondering why the ambulance came? Remember the head maid who took care of my son when he caught a cold?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“He humiliated her publicly, had his dogs unleashed, I had to lie to stop the attack, I felt so bad, my heart can’t take much more, she was a big sister to us, what’s the point of any of this?”

“There’s no point to it,” said Dyu, “-look, Old Cray is a tyrant no matter what we say. He fired her, what next?”

“He’s going to host a tournament, an open bid for him to pick the next attack dog. Ever since he came into power, I’ve seen our queen be subjected to the worst kind of people, he throws her around like a toy. I’m tired, my child’s entering primary soon, I want to be there for him – I want to see my kid grow.”

“Tough luck, Old Cray hates family and friends,” he sipped, “-I owe a lot to Queen Ela, she saved me more than a few times. Feels bad, I can’t reach her lately.”

“It’s the fucker, he’s forcing drugs – she obeyed and recompense? Drugs, subject to be a doll.”

“Dude,” he shuffled closer, “-drop the family act, I know you’re an informant working for the Dark-Guild.”

“Yeah, I’m an informant, the liaison between King and underworld. Who do you think provides the narcotics?”

“My time working at the firms about to end. I’ve had my fill of the toxic corporate world – I want to relax and enjoy the money. Before that happens, I’m going to pull Ela from her cage, she’s suffered enough.”

“Are you dumb?”

“Wha-?”

“Take her from her cage, what then, send her to nowhere?”

“Trust me, I have connections,” he slid a piece of paper, “-call this number and confirm for yourself. We’re on the same side under different bosses.”

“An informant and a lawyer, what could go wrong?”

“Trust the process.”

A few days later, the report ended on éclair’s desk, the final report stating Dye’s successful mission. And so, before much longer, Igna found himself in Rotherham before a private jet clad in black.

No familiar faces to greet goodbyes, he solemnly climbed the stairs, a briefcase held the bare essentials. ‘An informant of the crown and a spy from Phantom, the compartmentalization ensured neither revealed their secrets. I guess Dye trusted his gut whilst Scorpio, someone off the record, had enough of the double life. Family changes a person,’ as did the still-image onto the hangar, engine toggled, he settled on lush leather seats, the air hostess was quite the looker, heels and a shorter dress to regulation. Hours later, Dyu waited at a private airfield to the east of the castle, one used by the many contacts he had, “-Are you sure about the guy?”

“I’m told he’s the best both our agencies have to offer,” engine roar interrupted the call, “-later.”