The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 388: Creation’s Heir

‘Heir to Creation,’ thought he summoned inside a bloodied circle. “To be sure-,” the giant took to throwing boulders towards the village.

“Do something,” cried the boy in fury. “THEY’RE GOING TO DIE!”

“-answer me this,” glanced Staxius, “-are you willing to serve me if I save the village and save this world?”

“YES, I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST DON’T LET MY MOTHER DIE.”

“I heed thine request,” mercilessly gazing upon the village, the right hand stretched out with the triangle flickering, *Heed mine call, I, Staxius Haggard, call upon thy strength. Stop all who dare oppose mine own will, Death Element: Magical Barrier, Pentagram Variant, Hell’s Gate,* two pillars as tall as the giant rose from the ground, a gate manifested, a portal through which the weeping souls of the dead were heard coldly amidst the rumbling of the earth. Clenching the palm; the boulders of which was mistaken as meteorites, crashed against the barrier. The impacts were so heavy it split into another thousand pieces of rocks and continued their path.

“LORD DEATH, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL EVERYONE!” screamed the boy once more. The sight played in slow-motion, a village on the brink of destruction with the savior stood with no sense of urgency, he but held a cavalier expression.

‘Quite troublesome,’ thought he ignoring the situation around, ‘-hell’s gate didn’t do much, I used the pentagram variant for naught. The giant is powerful; quite a shame I have Intherna and Gophy out on a mission,’ a sudden chop like gesture had the barrier vanish leaving the people defenseless.

.....

Many stood watching the end of the world, the protection gave a glimmer of relief, the faces were relaxed in a tangled manner. Yet, the impending doom came as no surprise, rocks fell one after the other around the vicinity.

*Deep slumber, deep rest, awaken for the chance at retribution. Gate of which stands before mine way, open for thy master has come: Nevermore – Hell’s Gate,* hand-pressed, the eyes closed, ‘-I need a new protection spell, merging hell’s gate and Abyssal Wrath seems appropriate.

*Trapped or freed, the clutches of hell shan’t leave he who does wrong, it shan’t leave he who does good; for hell, the abyss, and its flame, are one of the same. Called to do me service, the world is but a gateway, the final destination has yet to arrive. Death Element: Magical Barrier, Abyssal Wrath Variant, Ploutonion.* A secondary gateway conjured from a crack, a distortion in reality, the illusion broke for a second out which came a pentagram. Ancient symbols of the gods, mainly Pluto, another name for he who presides over death. The gateway was alive for it had hands made of the Void-flame stretched to grab the rubble – a single touch reduced the projectiles to naught.

“It’s your time, ugly,” said the God of Death as the Giant peered down insolently. *Woosh,* a jump followed by the ground carved onto itself.

“You’re strong,” said he hovering with the wings of the angels. The giant stood still, a stare-off between a god and an unknown, “-must be hard,” said he, “-must be hard to be created and then cast as a defect. I’ll give thee salvation, creature of Creation,” reached close, he patted the harbinger of chaos.

*Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, from when thee were born and till thee die, I, the god of death, hold in my hands the strings which binds thee to this world, by my authority, I order thy chains to be severed, spell, Tactus Interitus.*

“Rest well, o’ soul corrupted by the mindless curiosity of a boy,” from giant, it changed to its prior size – a man, a child, a babe, to then naught.

“Thank you so much.”

“Thee surely jest. Don’t think I’ve not noticed. The village, this realm, the monster, they are all your creation. Acting innocent...”

“Please,” he interjected, “-I did create what thee said,” the face moved to the village, “-I created them, yes, that I did. But, you see, I did it because I was lonely...” without a sense of guilt, he pulled on Staxius’s arm and walked to the village.

The closer one got, the bigger and more beautiful were the houses. People walked with no particular uniqueness. It was as if puppets without faces nor names, empty beings wandering the streets to have the loneliness reduced. Walked on a bridge over a waterway, they came upon a quiet little tavern. The door opened with two figures, a man and a woman, cleaning and tending to the faceless guests.

“Welcome home,” said the man whose face resembled vaguely to the living.

“The rumble outside had us worry,” said the lady sprawling from behind the counter, “-promise us to never go away.”

“Mother, father, this is my friend, I got lost and he brought me back.”

“Thank you so much,” veiled by the dim lighting, their faces came to reality. Unequal eyes, noses of which didn’t match their contours, a badly put together puzzle. The sight sent shivers down his back, ‘-is living in such an illusion fun?’

Hugs and kisses were exchanged to the boy. He returned the expression of love with affection of his own, yet, the face seemed lonesome.

“See,” said he with lifeless eyes, “-this is my only home. I had to save it even if it meant calling on the god of death.”

“Meet me by the waterway,” the door shut as he left.

One by one walked the faceless figures with their faceless families. ‘Such a sorry sight,’ thought he with the water flowing gently.

“I’m here.”

“Good,” leaned on the stone-wall preventing from falls, “-about what we agreed upon earlier.”

“Me becoming your ally?” the feet twirled nervously.

“Do I really have to ask,” returned a cold voice.

“A c-contract is a c-contract,” said he with the face wanting to glance away.

“1400 years living alone,” added the God of Death, “-that’s quite a long time. Creating a small world in a pocket dimension to soothe the solitude. Creation can be on the dense side, when all is said and done, Creation can only make what it desires but never gain it for themselves. Isn’t that the truth?”

“...”

“I struck a chord, didn’t I. Same as Creation, my job is to take what isn’t mine. I take what is most precious, and that is the life of every creature be it god or insect. It’s a cruel existence that I’ve come to love. I can’t die, well, I can die only if I left my powers run rampant. I constantly fight the curses, malice, and hatred of the living. In thy case, heir to Creation, you deal with the worst kind of cruelty, the cruelty to never be you, cruelty to never have what you want, the cruelty to not have a personality nor desires. The world you created, bright and cheery as it seems, is crying. The giant earlier was thy effort at having some fun – you summoned me to have one speak to thee, am I wrong? Why would the Creator of the realm be powerless before his invention.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Thou seeks salvation, thou seeks an end to solitude.”

“...” a slow nod of agreement came, “-kill me already, I’m tired and bored, there’s nothing to do, nothing to make, and nothing to see. Heir to the most powerful entity, what a joke, I never wanted to be in that position.”

“I understand how you feel,” said he with a smile, “-I understand the boredom of never facing a worthy opponent. I was weak, and now I’m powerful, no fight has me fear, the thrill is gone – not even a war could quell my bloodlust. Yet,” flash images of before crept forth,”-I shuddered,” said he, “-I shuddered for the first time. I, he who is feared by all, shuddered. The emptiness in your heart, this world, it’s sad – even I can feel it. Heir to Creation, I’m not arrogant – I can’t promise you salvation nor will I kill you.”

“What then, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?”

“There’s another solution.”

“...” the nervous gestures stopped, “-who said Creation can’t be part of reality. Who said creation can’t be a normal person – we’re gods, and gods make up the rule, our word is law and law is what other obey, not us,” he held out a hand, “-come with me, I won’t make promises, however, I can say this; my world, the realm I live in is much more existing than here. Creation and Death are two sides of the same coin – Heir to the all-mighty, come and I’ll show thee the beauty of souls, humans, and reality.”

“W-what of father?”

“Creation,” from holding out a hand, he reached in to embrace the boy, “-you don’t have to worry. Become part of my family, be my ally – there are so many more dimensions with differing gods, differing rules, and differing adventures. what do you say, let’s embark on a journey, you and me?” The boy stared with an opened mouth, the words left him speechless. A single tear ran along the cheeks.

“It’s been so long since I talked to anyone. Father was right,” he said sniffling, “-The God of Death did come to save me,” he giggled. “I agree on one condition.”

“What may that be?”

“I’ll come to thy world as thy son, thy own blood.”

“Thee does realize I’m the god of death...”

“And I’m Creation,” *Snap,* a white light had him hover with circles and symbols hovering about, “-done,” said he with a smile. Tall, a sharp-jawline, white hair, red eyes, the teeth of a vampire, a sharp nose, pierced ears, the symbol of Creation, an infinity symbol, was engraved on the right palm. “I now bear thy blood, father, I’m a vampire with inheritance over the Chaos-Element.”

“Chaos magical element. Tis the first I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s a direct mix of your blood and the blood of creation. My body changed, it has thine blood running inside. I’m thy son, Father.”

“How am I going to explain this?”

“There’s no need to explain,” he laughed, “-history will change for my sake – I’ll be known as thy second progeny. My mother is Shanna Islegust, my father is Staxius Haggard. I have two sisters, Lizzie Haggard and Eira Haggard. Big sister Eira is in line for the throne.”

“By chance, what will happen to the world?”

“Nothing, it will remain the same with me in the mix,” he knelt, “-please, give me a name.”

“A name you say,” he paused, “-I got it, Julius Arnet Haggard,” he held out a hand.

“Thank you, father, I’m henceforth known as Julius Arnet Haggard.”

“I suppose we should head back,” the pocket-dimension crumbled on itself.

‘Where am I?’ soothing classical music snuck from out the ballroom, a sense of relief went from mind outward to the body.

“Father...” came a voice, “-father...” one familiar, “-please, wake up.”

Back to reality, maids and butlers quietly gazed upon their master. Beside stood Serene as for the voice, “-welcome home, father,” said a boy in his eighteen’s.

“Majesty,” said Serene, “-this isn’t the time to space out. Prince Julius came to welcome.”

‘The world did change. Creation’s heir is my son. Here I thought he was bluffing this whole time; the symbol of Infinity is still there.’

“I do apologize,” said the King, “-the voyage took more than I expected.”

“Mother, sister,” waved the prince, “-look, father is here!”

“The King has returned?” echoed the waltzing guests to a halt. There he stood in the doorway with the very much doted upon Prince.

“Papa,” soon to escape Rosetta’s grasp, young Lizzie dashed across the dancing floor.

“I’m back,” in arms, he spun with the princess giggling.

“I didn’t expect you to come so early,” smiled Xula with her eyes blinking sweetly.

“Congratulation on finishing your training at Claireville Academy,” smiled Eira, “-I see my younger brother is still hell-bent on becoming father’s apprentice.”

“Yes,” he replied, “-father said I could join him after I turn eighteen.”

‘Did I...?’

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