The Wielder of Death Magic

“Lord all mighty, this place is a wreck,” Adelana spoke out in awe. Still gathering the necessities, Staxius chose to remain silent and secretly sneaked more stuff into his bag, the same bag he stole off the first noble he killed – the memories, a head rolling down a beach, good times. Thinking about it, he reflected onto his journey up to this point, meanwhile, the silver guardians accompanied by Fenrir and Millicent explored the remains of the once-prosperous town. Like a good companion as well as a member of his now rather expansive family which included the Thunderstain; Undrar chose to stay by his side along with the babe, the snow angel.

The murmurs of ideal chatter and bafflement got quieter; he could finally hear himself breathe. Letting a big sigh of relief, he spoke, “Finally, we made it, Krigi.”

“What do you mean we made it? This isn’t a village or a town, it’s a battleground.”

“I know that, but this is the Krigi of old, the place where I was born in. A part of my childhood was spent here, strolling, running, and getting into trouble in these alleyways and roads. You can’t fathom how lively this place was; it felt like heaven. The people were so understanding and compassionate, always eager to give a helping hand.” – *Snap,* The vehicle was now hidden, Staxius continued his walk as Eira rested peacefully in his arms. “There, I’ve hidden the iron steed with the mightiest concealment spell I have, now please do continue. I rather enjoy listening when you speak so dearly about something you still cherish.”

“…” He remained silent for a bit, clearing the fog which clouded his thoughts. “My dear Staxius, that silence of yours speaks volumes.” She spoke as if adding salt to injury.

Shaking his head in disagreement, he continued,

“As I was saying, this town of mine was once a haven for both commoners as well as nobles. Even travelers were welcomed with open arms. It is also here that I learned the basics of magic and spell casting in general. Naturally, without any normal magical element, my dreams as a sorcerer were shattered. Even as a kid, I was mature. With that path now closed, I chose to read the books my dad had laying around his laboratory. Honestly, I understood nothing. The pictures of pentagrams were beautiful so I kept shifting through numerous pages. One day I came upon a strange device that broadcasted both video and sound at the same time; nowadays it’s common, but for a young child, that stuff was mind-blowing. Especially as none had access to that sort of technology. Long story short, I saw my dad fighting as a mage in the Claireville Academy tournament; I wanted to participate and become like him – sadly I still do. Then the war came, it changed everything, my dad went off fighting, my mother abandoned us, my memory is rather blurry about the details. I kept with my dad; the town was devastated. He greatly helped in the evacuation, the street on which we are walking this very moment is where he made his last stand. He fought off a platoon of fifty soldiers by himself before vanishing with me at his side. That’s basically it, I never knew what happened to the caring noble, my visit here isn’t of pure nostalgia.”

.....

“Must have been a pleasant place to stay at if you praise it so much.” Their walk ended when the whole crew halted as if seeing a ghost. Facing the north-west, another village came into view, far yet close enough to make out its shape and size. Surrounding it was nothing, the landscape was even worse than here, nothing for miles. The place looked like a desert, a few kilometers in the south-west of the said village, rose massive forests and greenery as well as a pretty long mountain range; separating both Dorchester and the neighboring province of Arda. A place pretty much secluded and living by their own means, access there is so restricted due to the rumored demi-humans and otherworldly entities. But these are just rumors, seeing as the Claireville Academy there hasn’t reported anything to the king or the Order. North-east of the village, a battlefield, followed by what was presumably the sea.

“Welcome to my hometown girls,” He spoke out.

“Excuse me master, but why have we come here? Is it the search for a long-lost love?” Ancret smirked. – “I can’t tell them that we are here purely because I saw this village being burnt within a dream – oh I know.”

“We’ve come here to set up camp; you know war is looming upon us. Seeing as my dad once made our home here, I thought, why not a visit home to show you, girls, how war can affect a region.” – That was the worst excuse anyone could have made but they ignored it, in their mind, he had a plan, the evil genius.

“What are we waiting around for, let’s go.” Alyson, who usually was secretive and preferred not talking became more friendly. “Onwards,” Annet added. “L-let g-go,” Ayleth quietly mumbled.

“Please master, lead the way,” Adelana spoke at last.

Fenrir and Millicent chose to remain silent and conversed among themselves. The latter was having doubts about the fate which laid within Staxius’s hand while the former was desperately trying to convince her that her master was a good person.

“Undrar, how do you even deal with all these people,” He voiced his frustration telepathically, having so many personalities around him took a toll onto his psyche. The diversity in the way they acted, how they felt and the risk of betrayal was on his mind constantly, if only he could trust them.

“Stop complaining, you’re the next death reaper, deal with it. You want allies but choose not to trust them, that’s your fault.”

“Oh – is someone on their… wait do demi-gods even go through that?” He chuckled then began laughing.

“DON’T YOU START,” she spoke out loud, her face glowed bright red. – “Fine, I’ll stop walking over

your shoe,” He covered for her as everyone stared.

As time went by, the party etched closer to the Krigi of new. Staxius in the front with Eira in arms with Fenrir and Undrar standing on each side with the silver guardians and Millicent in the middle, the group finally arrived. Staxius was baffled, the place was in worse condition than when he left.

From house made of wood and covered with a roof made of leaves and sticks, to huts and a practically empty well as evidenced by the lack of footprints. The people were either working the still dried up farms located on the western side of the village or watching over the children who looked like living skeletons. Thanks to his eyesight, Staxius managed to spot everything before everyone.

The crew was still a way off for normal eyesight to pick up on how the village looked. The populous was decreased as well, only a few elders and poor commoners remained. No sign of adolescents anywhere. From the town in Oxshield were stone buildings were a common treat to this place where having a wooden wall was considered a luxury; he could naught but bite his lips.

Normally, wooden cabins were the common form of habitation for even a poor commoner, but this village, it was far worse than that.

After years and years of being apart from the place in which he was given birth, Staxius was here; a place he once called home. “I hope they remember me,” Taking a deep breath in, he entered their peripheral vision. At this time of day, mainly the elderly were in the village as well as the kids who ran around aimlessly, playing cat and mouse despite their frail-looking bodies. The band of kids playing stopped and stared up in wonder at this man who was dressed handsomely. The girls in his company were as beautiful as the blossoming of new flowers. Sat near the door of the first house, which was one of six wooden houses guarding the entrance of the village; a group of old folks wearing shabby clothes who looks sickly but cheerful at the same time stopped their reminiscing of old times.

“E-excuse m-me, b-but who a-are you,” One of the elders spoke out, at first glanced he looked about seventy and was dressed in black with a crest hanging from his neck. The man looked like someone noble and virtuous, a man of religion. One thing separated him from the other elder who dressed the same way apart from the color, it was the cut on his ear; the right ear was sliced off.

“F-father Ashford,” Staxius spoke out, a man from his past, still alive and well.

“W-who a-are you s-son?” Confused, he replied with hands shaking as he put on glasses which hung side by side the crest. “By God, t-this i-isn’t r-real,” The glasses landed on his small and freckled nose. Ignoring his companion, Staxius rushed to the old man’s side.

“S-Staxius…” He whispered. “Yes father, it’s me, I’ve come back,” Staxius replied with a warm smile as he knelt. “Oh – how much you’ve grown,” The elder began to caress his cheeks as if seeing if Staxius were truly present. One by one, the other elder’s present began recognizing the old trouble maker who made his appearance once again. They all spoke to him cheerfully; the village seemed to have regained something it had lost.

“S-Staxius, I’m so glad y-you’re here – if I may ask, who is this young infant you hold so close to your heart,” Father Ashford asked as he saw Eira sleeping peacefully.

“This is Eira, father – Eira Haggard, my daughter.”

“SPLENDID,” A small burst of joy followed by violent coughs. Everyone told him to not be so overly active, father Ashford was very frail and had one foot already in the grave.

“Ancret,” Staxius called,

“What is it?” She asked monotonously.

“Can you please cast a healing spell on these fine gentleman as well as these pair of lovely maidens.” Obviously, the people who sat around him were old, but Staxius was happy for once, some of the people who watched him grow were here, practically family.

“As you wish, master,” She smiled, happy for him. Everyone else in his party just admired how jolly he was, those strangers meant a lot for their master. *Full body recovery,* the incantation was short and silent, a surge of green aura engulfed the elderly.

“W-what is t-this t-trickery,” Father Ashford spoke out.

“I feel… ALIVE, Staxius what did you just do?” Everyone else began whispering amongst themselves. Out of joy, he stood up and hugged Staxius who crossed his legs and sat. Both the father and Staxius looked pretty close; one could say they were grandfather and grandson.

“Now the question at hand, Staxius…” His tone got serious – “Who are those lovely ladies who kept calling you master?” He stared eager and doubtful.

“Oh – they are my…” Everyone got tense, this moment was what they waited for; who they were to Staxius, the man they called master. “… Family,” Staxius smiled.

The silver guardians expected an answer like, ‘They are my travel companions/bodyguards or plain servants,’ but he chose to use the word family – a word he held at the utmost respect. Heart relieved of this burden called doubt; everyone introduced themselves.

In the distance, coming from the fields; people approached. The children went to call on their parents seeing as from their point of view, Staxius’s presence meant trouble. He was dressed far better than anyone else, and in their childish mind, it meant that he was a ruthless nobleman who frequently abused the villages.

Everyone rushed as fast as possible, from father to mother to brother to sister, everyone worked tirelessly in hopes of getting some food. Surviving was their top priority; said priority was naught but lie. One by one, they got closer to the village; Staxius sensed them approaching a mile away but chose to remain silent as it would take them about five minutes to make it here.

“Who dares disturb me in my moment of rest and lust,” A young man shouted out from the house directly in front of Staxius. He was dressed extravagantly for the exception of his pants which were all the way down. “Listen up you commoners, I’ve paid to sleep here, why not shut the hell up,” His tone got more violent. “Sire, please, don’t mind my father,” A quiet whisper came from the inside; a familiar voice. Intrigued, Staxius stood up. “Please, son, don’t go closer to that vile cabin,” Father Ashford held his suit jacket.

“Shut up whore, I didn’t ask for your opinion, you filth.” He spat, “I’m leaving,” Lifting up his trousers, he threw a bunch of copper coins on the ground and left.

“Father Ashford, where is Jessica?” Staxius asked doubtfully. Ashamed, the father’s gaze turned to the ground. With a quick pull, infuriated by the father’s response, Staxius rushed into the cabin; protected from the outside with only a piece of clothing as its door.

Eyes turned from joyful to disgusted and eventually to pity, he stared, “My god…”