The Wielder of Death Magic

Frostrest’s battle

“They just keep on pushing through.” Ayleth panted, they had been fighting from night till dawn. “Bad news, I’m almost out of arrows,” Annet fired back, she crouched atop a house and rained down death. Though it ran out, a single arrow remained in the quiver. The endless wave grew more and more, kill one and two more raise up to take its place. Defending had gotten harder, “Annet, cover me.” She jumped down, her daggers were covered with blood, it felt slippery and had to be wiped using her own clothes. “Only one arrow left,” Annet drew the bow. “That should suffice, aim for that platoon behind using guns. Muffled screams made its way out of the forest. Paying no mind to it, Ayleth slipped into the shadows and intricately killed the few fighters who entered the village. Sat with his bald head exposed to the elements; the village leader watched as the final moments of Frostrest came to pass. *Boom,* an arrow imbued with a powerful wind spell exploded upon impact on the ground. The people who provided cover were blown to pieces; body parts flew all around. It accomplished nothing; the wave continued advancing.

Screams got louder, Fenrir pounced out of Rotten thicket and rushed into the village while clawing everyone in her path. Her once white and pristine fur had turned to red and sticky. “Over here,” Annet waved. Fenrir’s strength drained, with what little power she had left, she jumped for Annet’s hiding spot. She landed and went back to her human form. “A-are you ok?” She asked worryingly as Fenrir landed harshly, the roof nearly broke. “Yeah,” she coughed violently, “j-just tired.”

“The sun is rising, but we can die at any moment now. Gunfire has gotten more proactive, we need to retreat now.” Annet voiced her concerns. “W-where’s Ayleth?”

A quick look below answered her questions, heads rolled like a dandelion after the wind had blown. The dirt paths were stained with blood and the smell of iron grew stronger than ever. Though it didn’t look obvious, duel-wielding daggers and sticking to the shadows was harder than anything else. Ayleth had to constantly be on her guard and be aware of the battlefield. She was exhausted mentally as opposed to physically, her policy was one move one kill, efficient but time-consuming.

“W-what do we d-do now?” Annet asked as the look on Ayleth’s face told that she reached her limits – everyone was. “R-retreat,” Fenrir gave the green light. Adelana and her party were now probably at a rather safe distance, though it was unpredictable, they held their own. Fenrir signaled the only one fighting to get back. “Finally,” just as she came, she vanished. Moments later, she appeared next to the other two. “Can we finally leave?”

*BAM,* a thunderous explosion rattled everyone. “W-what is t-this?” The roof gave in, everything collapsed. “A-AYLETH!” Blood dripped from her mouth, she looked confused. The voices from Fenrir and Annet grew quieter, “w-why a-are you?” her eyes rolled and she fell backward.

“Target down, your holiness.” Removing his goggles, a young man spoke. He laid near the pope.

“Well done,” the pope seemed pleased. Resting on the ground, a rifle as big as the boy using it. The menacing black color with a single red line across the scope told everything, that was Knightfall. A weapon made overseas with the collaboration from the Order; it was built by the same people who

.....

made the Xerxes car series.

“Let’s move in.” The pope ordered, following behind him, the real army; all armored and ready to fight. The path they used wasn’t the same one taken by the scouts, but around the forest, coming from the sea’s direction. Though the village held a height advantage, the young marksman, referred to as a prodigy, made the shot as if it were normal for him.

She bled, her breathing grew slower. Fenrir’s rage grew, her eyes turned red. Ayleth was shot in the stomach. “S-stay w-with me.” Annet kept on slapping her cheeks gently. Out of desperation, she removed her armor, it was heavy. With her upper body exposed, Annet tried giving first aid, she tried to stop the bleeding but the wound proved to be harder than she could handle. “C-can’t b-be.” She kept at it; Fenrir growled but hadn’t the strength to fight.

“Send the grenades,” a faint scream was heard. The ground vibrated, it was the army, they were destroying the village from afar. A silent click piqued Fenrir’s attention. A grenade was thrown inside where they hid. “Get d-down,” she jumped onto Annet and broke through the wall, landing outside.

*Bam,* it blew up, Ayleth’s dagger flew out and landed next to Annet. Her gaze changed, it looked like Staxius’s. “Don’t,” Fenrir tried to hold her back, but she walked inside, through the smoke. “Now

isn’t the time to despair,” instead of giving up, Fenrir rushed inside. There, out of pity, she helped Annet carry her sister out. Half of her face was burnt, and the wound still didn’t stop bleeding,

though Annet made a makeshift bandage out of her own clothes.

“This is bad,” Julius spoke, the village came into view. “Brother look,” Autumn pointed at the girls retreating from the battlefield. “Avon stop,” the doors opened. “Are you the silver guardians?” he asked, the explosions grew more regular. “W-who are you?” Fenrir asked, they gently placed Ayleth down. “No time for introduction, Autumn.”

“On it,” she quickly got to treat her wounds. “I r-remember you.” Fenrir’s memory came back, “you’re that mage who killed mercilessly in the last war. You were present when we conquered castle Garsley, what are you doing here?” Though she had her doubts, Autumn’s swift, careful movements, and healing magic made Fenrir trust them. Annet remained silent, she didn’t speak, her eyes looked lifeless. “I’m Julius Garnet, a friend of Staxius Haggard; we’ve been called forth as back-up.”

“You’re a bit late but thanks anyways, the village is lost.” She scowled. “B-brother…” Autumn’s tone felt desperate. “What is it?” he asked. “I- c-can’t h-heal her, t-the wound, i-its cursed b-by a-anti healing magic.”

“Impossible,” his tone changed.

“What do you mean cursed by anti-healing magic?” Fenrir asked. She didn’t look bothered.

“It’s Knightfall, the cursed-series rifle.” That was the only information he gave out.

“C-can’t you s-save my sister?” Annet spoke, she stared at her sister’s burnt face. “Avon, d-do you have that h-healing scroll?”

“I don’t sadly, I think I can recreate it – give me a moment.” Grabbing a blank-scroll, Avon copied intricately all the symbols and incantation Staxius did. It worked, the scroll glowed green. After it was finished, Avon passed out, his body faded.

“Come on, use it.” It worked, the wound healed itself. Something felt wrong, Ayleth was destined to die, but somehow, a twist of fate gave her a second chance. Avon vanished, the mana he was given exhausted itself – the black car felt lonely. Ayleth breathed once more, Annet’s trauma left a scar that would reveal itself later. None could give a sigh of relief, Kreston still made itself present. “What did Staxius order you to do?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Save the villagers and not let Brisnet Height’s be conquered.”

“Impossible, holding back an army of that size from capturing Brisnet height’s is but a fool’s errand.”

“We know, it’s impossible. Regardless, those were the orders given by Staxius.”

“Fine,” he gave up, “I’m not his friend for nothing.” The air changed; Julius began to use magic.

“Behold my strongest spell,” *Fire and lightning element: Meteor shower.*

Over the village and its vicinity, a giant cloud covered everything. A thunderbolt struck the middle of the village and soon after, fireballs and lightning rained over Frostrest. Whoever stood in that zone died, this was one of many spells deemed too dangerous for the caster – though Julius mastered it.

“Come on then, we need to hide the car away from prying eyes.” He nonchalantly went back inside and tried to activate it. “Not to be rude, but your brother is a bit on the weird side.” Fenrir chuckled.

“Tell me about it,” Autumn sighed.

*Whoosh,* three hours went by since Staxius took the vampire with him. He waited, a sudden heavy feeling in his chest woke him up. The room in which he placed Aurora was right next to where he met Julius. A room with only a bed, an empty bookshelf and dusty window panes that looked out to the east, further into town. “My chest, it just felt heavy for some reason, what happened?” He settled himself on the chair, “why does my stomach burn.” The pain grew in intensity then died out.

The bed-sheet slightly moved, it was Aurora, she awoke. “Perfect timing,” he picked up his chair and placed it right next to her. “T-this c-ceiling, it’s different.” She mumbled.

“Good morning,” he moved his head closer, “- did you sleep well?” he smiled.

“PLEASE, DON’T KILL ME,” she yelled out of fear, then realized that her death would have already

taken place as the sun rose up. “Back to your senses, I hope.”

“I apologize for s-screaming,” she faced away. “You do scream an awful lot.” He backed away and sat formally. “May I ask why you saved me?” her head turned.

“To be honest with you, if it were up to me, you’d be dead by now. Though, that last gaze you gave me and the feeling of friendliness I sensed sort of killed the satisfaction. And I had some questions for you.” He spoke courteously, the previous hate and anger in his voice disappeared, he spoke as if she were his long-lost friend.

“Will you kill me after I’ve answered your questions?” She politely asked, her mind was set on dying.

“Why do you think I’m always out to kill people? Never mind,” he chuckled, “-it does look like I’m a heartless killer, but in fairness, I’m not that keen on getting my hands dirty.” Her eyes grew heavier, she had lost too much blood and mana. It was dangerously close to depletion. Sweat profusely rolled down her face and cheeks, her temperature shot up. “Are you ok?” Staxius asked, confused. “B-blood,” she mumbled then covered her mouth. “Did you say something?” she shook her head in denial. He obviously heard it, vampires needed blood to survive. Their bodies converted that bloodily fluid into mana. He read about it from the hall of rebirth’s library. “Open up,” swiftly he drew his sword, and sliced his palm. Blood flowed rapidly, he held it over her head. She looked hesitant, “drink it, or you’ll die.” She gave in, the taste of his blood riled her inner beast. Out of instinct, she went straight for his palm and bit the already sliced up wound to have a better grip. She quickly gulped up blood, she was parched.

“Are you done?” he asked.

“I-I apologize,” she backed away and laid on the bed again. “Impressive,” the wound on his hand closed faster than before. “I guess you subconsciously cast healing magic after you’ve drunk out of your victim; how considerate.” He smiled.

“T-thanks,” her whole body regenerated, the feeling oozing out of her was of youth and happiness. Her face, once swollen by tears and injuries went back to normal.

“Breathtaking,” he admired her closely.

“W-what is it t-that you want from me?” she asked once more, her voice seemed more feminine and refined.

“I want you to tell me who and why you were sent out to kill me.”

“Honestly, I wish I could tell you but we are bound by a curse, a curse to never speak of Arda and its secrets outside of our province.” She said the truth. “Is that all?” after a quick examination, from out of nowhere, he shoved his finger inside her mouth. *Dark arts: Mana cancellation.* The top of her mouth heated up, her eyes grew bigger. “Done,” he removed his hand, her saliva was all over his index finger. “Gross,” he casually wiped it on the bedsheet. “W-what d-did you just do?” her cheeks flushed, she asked.

“Nothing much, I just stopped the curse, now speak freely.”

“It’s not that simple, here let me prove it to you.” Deep breath in, “I was sent by Shanna Islegust.”

She froze up. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Impossible, saying her name out loud would have ended in my death.”

“Idiot,” he slapped her forehead, “did you really try and kill yourself after I gave you my blood?” he said in a dramatical tone as if implying she betrayed him.

“N-no.” embarrassed she lowered her head, “I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize, just answer my questions and then we can decide to kill you if that is really what you want.”

“As you wish. I was sent by queen Shanna Islegust, ruler of Arda. My job was to find and bring a man named Staxius Haggard. Whether alive or dead, you were to be brought to her feet. The Enbalar siblings accused you of defiling the younger sister and abusing the older brother. Thus, my job was to enact revenge and deal out severe punishment onto you. Sadly, that quest has failed, and if I return there now it would be for naught.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Do tell me what will happen if you return empty-handed to Arda, my interest has been piqued.”

“Nothing major, I’ll probably be demoted then sent into exile or killed. It all depends on the Enbalar siblings, their word in the report to her majesty will define how I will survive.”

“Are the Enbalar siblings that important?”

“No absolutely not, they are orphans, commoners, but the queen has a soft spot for anyone young and desperate.”

“Gullible and foolish,” he stood up, outside, the sun’s ray grew fainter. Dark grey clouds covered the sky, it began raining. The sound it made felt relaxing, the rain was rare out in Dorchester. He walked over and stared out the window. “Will I finally die by your hands?” she asked.

“Even better,” he turned around. “You’re taking me to meet that so-called queen. I sense great fear coming from you every time you speak her name.”

“W-what are you talking about? You can’t just stroll into Arda and say I want to meet the queen.”

“That’s where you come in, you’ll say you’ve captured me. But before we do anything, I need to check up on something important first, you can rest a few hours more, after all, you hate the sun don’t you?” He walked out. “He’s serious isn’t he.”

Staxius stepped out of the mansion; something didn’t feel right. The gut feeling he had was that of disaster, earlier he dreamed of Ayleth, and her soul flying away from him. It was just like that time in Krigi of new when his friend died. “I need to make sure everyone is ok, Avon and Julius are gone, I’m guessing something has turned for the worse.” A picture of Undrar popped inside his head. “Always reliable aren’t you.”

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