The Wielder of Death Magic

The Curse

The sun reached its highest peak; noon was now. The adventurers who helped in stopping the first horde left. None was foolish enough to stay behind – it would only result in more casualties. They all set off to their individual guilds; their arrival was to occur in one to two days. With blood on their hands, everyone set off with a feeling of regret on their faces.

All around Hidros, things were moving rapidly. The calm and usual subtle atmosphere in the capital changed, princess Gallienne had finally awoken from her unconscious state. ?The vermillion meteor crashing onto the island ruptured something inside her – she felt drained. At last, she awoke; beside her stood Piers Clyfford. Though he and she didn’t get alone – a feeling of duty forced him to pay her a visit despite having ended a long journey to have an audience with the Emperor. Next to her husband, the King, and the Queen – they came as soon as the servants gave news of her improving health. Last but not least, Theodore stood with his young prodigy in the shadows. This put a faint grin on her face; none knew that someone as cold-hearted as she could smile.

They were all shocked to see her eyes and mouth look joyous. The aura around her felt different – a glimpse of light and hope made itself apparent between her cruel nature. Only Theodore noticed the change yet he remained silent. The meteor had brought about many changes; one more mysterious than the other. As blissful as she might have looked, the princess could not utter a word. Her body laid, fragile without the strength to move. The room, colored in red and gold shone as the mid-day sun came through the balcony. A breeze of fresh air made everyone feel at peace, this moment was picturesque. Her conscience wasn’t fully recovered, thus why she looked like an angel. Her white hair gently spread around her pillow; her rosy cheeks turned into a fiercer color. Piers out of all people, one who hated her the most – felt something, the princess truly was a beauty.

The same breeze that blew against the castle traveled all the way from Dorchester. “Millicent, please bring me the papers about the rights concerning the noble district,” Julius ordered, the castle felt more active than ever before. Millicent ran around checking official documents and bringing them after Julius requested it. After the welcoming party that happened a few days ago, the duke adjusted to how things worked. Everyone felt a bond of trust building. They slowly but surely began working as one. All the prejudice about Julius being a stranger were put aside. Millicent subtly acted weird on occasions; she would lash out at anyone who crossed her way. Whoever was unlucky enough to be assaulted by her verbal abuse only replied with a smile. Whether it be commoners, servants, guards, soldiers and even the silver guardians; they all knew how much stress she went through. As time went on, the duchess became the most frequent drinker at the tavern, she drank with everyone and had fun.

Julius took it upon himself to help Dorchester, and take away the pressure off Millicent’s shoulder. In no way was he the ruler, he held no authority. The only thing that went in his favor was that of a charismatic leader – he knew what to do to get what he wanted. Autumn, on the other hand, grew attached to the kids who ran around aimlessly all day. The camp slowly expanded outside the castle walls. Foundations for stone brick houses, though expensive, were laid out. ?Getting the gold required to rule the kingdom was hard, but Julius pulled through. He invested in the castle and the future of the province as if investing in the many successful business endeavors he had in the past. That man was renowned not only as a powerful mage, but a witty trader and merchant who could accurately guess what the market would do and how people would react.

Anyone who dealt with him knew how smart he was, they admired him. The name Garnet, now unknown thanks to the popularity of guilds, was once famous. Famous for being the second wealthiest family in Oxshield. The first spot was the royal family, none could rival how much gold they possessed. Dorchester was left in the hands of someone competent; an old friend – someone who once tried to oppose Staxius but was given a cold hard pill of reality to swallow. It was predicted that in the coming weeks and possibly months, the temporary camp inside the castle would be moved out. Another wall was planned to be built after all the necessary buildings were made. An even higher and stronger wall; something that could rival an army on its lonesome. At this stage, this was only a dream, a hope – Julius had no clue to what material he should utilize. After conversing with the local craftsmen, they still remained in the dark. They needed something stronger than stone and infused with magic. For that to happen, they’ll need to get a hold of a powerful mage that focuses on enhancements. That sadly was a rare pursuit for sorcerers nowadays. Even if they did find one, the level would be mediocre at best, the more talented mages worked for the Emperor.

It was then decided that the wall should be built in the presence of Staxius. For now, the focus was on expanding the domain outwards. Housing so many people in such a cramped place felt inhuman and outright cruel. The villagers didn’t complain, but the one’s ruling them had that burden on their hearts. It could be said with full confidence that the majority of people in Dorchester, lived inside castle Garsley. Some made camps outside; for hunting and landmarks purposes so as to not get lost in the vastness. A feeling of belonging and companionship formed, it bounded everyone together. Devoid of any prejudice, bards who stumbled across this castle were shocked. Never had they seen such accord between people, none cause trouble for the other – they all lived in peace and harmony. It was said stumbling bards that spread the word of castle Garsley throughout Hidros.

People’s interest piqued; soon after, on a regular basis, one or two strangers would pay a visit out of curiosity. The local merchandise got sold, and a slow and unviable source of income formed. Julius saw the potential; Dorchester was a war-tone region. This was a curse, but he saw something else – something that could open the eyes of many. The true reality of war, how people had to endure, and how together a community could work and help one another out. Alone people were vulnerable and weak, but together, the weakest stick could be made to be the strongest if put in a stack with others.

.....

The loss of strength weighed heavily on him. He had stayed under the same tree for hours on ends, the will to rise up vanished into dust. Staxius felt worthless; he lamented how feeble he had grown; answers were what he desperately needed. By all means, he wanted to try and reach out to Undrar but he felt ashamed. Speaking out about his troubles and woes wasn’t something he would do, it went against his personality. After the little altercation between Sophie yesterday, Eira remained in her room. Sophie visited the hospital, the classmates continued to ask questions about who that man was. Josiah didn’t pay much attention; he knew that Sophie would inevitably lose. The image of Staxius turning an SSS-ranked combat robot into dust was burnt deep inside his heart.

Preparations for the preliminaries of the tournament began throughout the provinces. Magical schools had to organize an internal tournament to choose who was best suited to participate. Five members were required to officially enter. Now with the implementation of the rule that anyone could join if they pass the trials prepared by the Order. One had to wait longer for many young ones rushed in to try and secure a spot. This was the chance to change their lives, Claireville academies’ training ground began to fill up. Chatter, screams, and yelling grew common, the battle arena behind Staxius was where the trial was set to begin. One after the other, the queue grew longer by each passing minute.

“Look at all those future legends, one of them may well become the next prodigy. Just look at them, there are people who came in with only a sword and no magic. Guess it’s true then, being a sorcerer isn’t that big a thing that it was all those years ago. Look at me, a failed-sorcerer who’s only powerful thanks to the blessing received by a god. Alone, I’m nothing but a fraud, someone who makes people think I’m more powerful. In reality, I’m just weak and overcompensate with my wit.” He sighed; “-I’ve never defeated anyone using strength alone. I’ve always fought my battles with something up my sleeve, I’m always thinking ahead of anyone – this doesn’t make me strong. However, I know that somewhere out there, someone draws breath, someone who fights for the sake of others. Someone who can stand up to anything without faltering, a real hero, someone who fights for others. A person that you could rely on despite how dire the situation becomes, he’ll always rise to get the last strike – the true savior of humanity. The hero my dad always tried to become, the hero who is spoken in myths.” The murmurs behind him grew quieter, the exam started. “I wonder where I went wrong, am I just a failed mage. Who knows, I’m just Staxius Haggard, a man who is both blessed and cursed by the boon given to me by the god of death.”

The pentagram on his palm began to burn, more ancient writings began to engrave themselves onto his chest. Reminiscing about who he was triggered something deep within, the memories of someone flashed before his eyes. They didn’t belong to him, it was the memory of someone else, someone who resembled him. Only faint glimpses were seen, no sound nothing, only a high-pitched tone could be heard. His heart throbbed; his head felt as if it were going to explode. The blood circulated around his body increased in velocity, it pounded against everything inside him. The headache intensified, Staxius furiously gritted his teeth. His fists all clenched to the point where blood began to flow, the bones in his finger cracked. His entire body trembled, “you, heir to the god of death, I’m the one who knows all. Your power belongs to me, the pathetic ancient text on your chest isn’t enough to keep me out. Lord Death has grown sloppy, you, my friend, are the first victim I shall devour. Without an heir, the mighty death reaper is but a cheerful little kid.” The internal organs began to give up, the pressure at which the blood traveled began to kill him from the inside. His eyes moved independently of his will to the point it snapped. Everything was rendered black; the high-pitched noise grew so intense it popped the eardrums.

“D-die…” Staxius tried to fight back whatever was happening to him. His mana and body were being controlled from afar, all he saw now was black. A faint line stretched far beyond where he could physically see. The place burnt with a purple flame, it burnt stronger than the sun. “D-dark a-arts… M-mana c-cancellation,” The line linking them both snapped. Staxius’s body relaxed and fell onto the floor. “Impressive, you’re not worthless at all, however, the death element you’re so proud of, it’s now worthless. The blessing given to you by Lord Death has been nullified, your no longer his heir, you’re but a human with a worthless magical element, you should have chosen to die instead of fighting back, with this, I wish you luck on your pitiful journey. You don’t have the power to fight against me now, weakling, the god-slayer is the one who shall end it all and revert to the beginning of time itself.”

The strange mysterious voice vanished. The ancient engravings on his chest all lost their color, it looked like scars. The pentagram on his hand vanished; the death element – he could no longer feel it. It stopped responding, the only thing alive was the artificial element, dark-arts. The bond between Undrar severed, the blessing on his neck faded. Two of his senses were gone, he could no longer see nor hear. His body laid on the ground, blood seeped out. The only expression on his face was a lifeless smile. The man named Staxius Haggard broke and on that fateful day; lost everything that made him, Staxius. This was the fate of the wielder of the death element, the curse that binds them to eternal suffering and ruin. Nothing comes without a price – he knew that fact very well and chose to embrace it as his last moments came to pass.