The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 964: Hidros’ Pride

‘I remember the day as if it were yesterday. A simple flicker caught us off-guard. Aceline stood resplendently beside the altar. Her face flushed, and her regard was hesitant and present. Scott fared no better, he watched his would-be bride with much respect a child would have towards a parental figure. It seemed to me, at that time, their relationship started from necessity, and now, given a chance to sit back and think, I guess the bonds truly were born from necessity. Don’t get me wrong, Aceline’s fame or prestige yet fades – her photos and countless shows are subject to talks among a large audience. The untimely departure of Hidros’ pride; first in the foreign land of Alphia, now came to the second, Hidros. Waves crashed vibrantly; the sound of the seething fizzy water hissed. Every blow was a hit of a gong; slow, methodical, and resounding. I’d changed nothing of said memory, nothing save what followed. A whistling, (I thought it be the wind) swallowed our collective breath. Pope Carrigan who’d dawn a special robe for the occasion, lowered his holy book. A splash smeared across his face diagonally, leaving imprints on the skin and glasses. A single second never felt long, and when I remember that day – It was far longer. Scott’s guests screamed; a click that unlocked our sealed minds. The bride was nowhere seen – stranger entities crashed – gunfire and magical spells followed; culmination of danger resulted in a palace of ice rising from the ground. It was cold – nothing compared to the caster’s frigid expression – I never imagined the icy empress could have such loath. Her white eyelashes flapped – and there, after each blink, I felt a strange frosty wind blow, ‘-get away,’ she said, ‘-follow them.’ I was shocked, unable to process the events, my body and mind were overrun. I had never felt terrified – though petrified ought to be a better description. I mindlessly checked the altar, blood splatter vanished as were the couple. Thunderous gunfire ran through my ears, and stronger deadlier auras shuffled. We were thrown into a line of evacuees, tis then I realized; that star, or leader, didn’t matter. When faced with death and an entity so strong – a noble title or prestigious skill, or ability, meant nothing. Death was the perfect democrat, indiscriminatory and unjust. Soldiers died. Hidros’ leaders leaped onto the frontlines, I couldn’t believe the will to irrationally jump onto death. The morbid curiosity went a step beyond mere passing fancy, no, it bordered obsession. Explosion and loud crashes, I wish I’d heard it better – my ears are yet recovered. I’m certain the tremors felt were larger and more powerful. Before leaving the castle of ice, my attention randomly drew towards two figures perched atop the castle walls. Their scent resembled two more who guarded the escort. Swarms of demons manifested from the little one’s clap. ‘What are they?’ I asked a question that remained so.’

‘We shortly escaped. The prestigious crowd was taken to safety. My turn on the waiting list meant I had to stay a while – confined to a lounge. Helicopters passed the somber skyscape, “-time to go,” said a soldier. I dawned on my hat and nodded. The last few minutes were the worst I ever experienced,’ signed D.K Rhodes.

A feathery light paper fell silently upon a great big desk. ‘-D.K Rhodes,’ paused Igna, ‘-a first-hand account of the marriage debacle. Wish and hope won’t help much today,’ leather shoes firmly planted with a humph, “-what’s done is done,” the silent office boomed, ending on a click.

“Majesty,” waved éclair, “-about the new policy...”

“Have it redone; I’ve made a few ameliorations.”

“Understood,” they parted ways at a cross, king outside and prime minister in. Current decorations reminisced of the olden days, at a time when mana used as power never crossed the minds of scholars. Dimmer lights were installed, and the projected effect matched the esthetic, “-éclair,” an interjection halted the thoughtful survey.

“Yes?”

.....

“Take a walk with me,” said Alta, they resumed anew.

“Care to explain?”

“How’s the king doing?”

“Great,” replied éclair, “-I don’t see a reason to break the momentum.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean this,” she tapped her watch, “-been a few months since the incident. Lady Katherine’s yet returned to the palace, I’m worried, truly.”

“Alta, you’re a good person. Realize, a few people were killed, granted, they were not family or close friends – people died on the king’s watch. Not to menti-”

“Yeah, I know, don’t change the subject. I guess our king’s losing himself in work?”

éclair slowed the soaring pace, “-Alta, I don’t mean to sound rude, but that’s quite enough. I understand and I empathize, I truly do. Would making an already tedious situation awkward be the best? Stop and think, there’s a reason why the king hasn’t spoken about the matter,” voice and cadence gradually increased, on the final word, éclair’s focus landed on bystanders, “-my apologies,” he eased, “-I didn’t mean to sound rude. Tell me, Alta, will you share a drink with me?”

“I’m afraid not, I have much to see at in Glenda.”

“As you wish,” they crossed paths silently, ‘-can’t be tied by affection forever. Alta needs to understand the kingdom needs a pillar of strength and courage, not a fumbling pretend demon. In Igna’s own words, -I’m a devil.”

Rosespire, ever-changing and consistent, the taller buildings reflected against a black luxury car. Many projects were approved and completed – an agreement of worker exchange between Arda and Hidros passed through the mouth was finally written. Magiology expanded exponentially, impossible feats became mere irregularities, with the right people and sufficient capital, anything was possible. Thus, the road took a life of its own, and buses were reduced for a faster, more efficient tramway network. Riverty Hospital wrote in thick black over a massive arrangement of squares and rectangles.

“We’ve arrived,” said the driver.

“Right,” Igna exited to a blast of fresh air, ‘-here we are,’ he dawned his glasses and stepped inside, the use of the frames changed from blocking the strong, reality distorting vision to a mere spell of reduced presence. The unlikely disguise made the king less obvious – for the name had but grown in the small amount of two years.

Room 305 neatly faced the inner-city, holding to a view that’d make any experience hotel manager drool. Many machines blinked and tapped, ‘-here I am,’ sighed Igna, inside laid someone who weighed dear. The door softly slid open, “-Igna,” returned a downward-facing Scott.

“Scott,” he shut the door and made it to the side of the bed. The pride of Hidros looked worse for wear, her jet-black hair laid awry, and her arms and legs withered to a state of skin and bone. A black mark on her neck, a parasite of sorts. A clean-shaven doctor rose, marking down much of his notes, “-majesty and Mr. Scott,” the sharpness of his visage reflected sternness at the detriment of looking approachable, “-we’ve tried everything. She won’t make it, lest a miracle happens. Even then, I doubt the false gods to be of any help. She’s inflicted with more than bodily wound – there are traces of curses, we’ve asked the best scholars for advice, no luck,” he gently lowered the notepad and nodded sympathetically, “-machines are keeping her somewhat stable. The more time she spends alive, the greater the curse spread and the more her sufferance. My liege, Igna, as next of kin, her fate is in thy hand. We have two options, to keep her in a slow perpetual agony for the day a cure comes or pull the plug,” he woefully stared at the icon, sharpness on his face failed as there, in what Igna perceived, was a look of regret, “-excuse me,” he left.

“Pull the plug or let her suffer,” surmised Scott, “-why did it have to be her...”

“Scott, her life is in your hand. I’ll respect the decision thee makes.”

“No,” he retreated, “-don’t force the choice on me, I’ve suffered enough. Do you think it’s easy...” the widened stare dropped – dark circles and crimson smears, “-I can’t do it... I’m sorry, I-I, I can’t. She’ll die, I rather she dies than suffer. I want her alive but not, I can’t be selfish... she’s,” he pinched his eyes and darted out the room, “-I’M SORRY.”

The tranquil cell of white and blinks settled. ‘-look at her,’ he inched and sat at her bedside, ‘-pretty, even on her deathbed. Her hands are tiny,’ the fingers interlocked, ‘-the curse’ worse than I thought. What do I do,’ he patted her forehead, “-what do I do?”

“Igna?”

“Aceline?” he motioned to stand, “-don’t,” she said, feebly holding onto his hand, “-don’t call anyone... let’s talk.” Thᴇ link to the origin of this information rᴇsts in NoᴠelFɪre.net

‘She can barely project her voice... what’s happened?’ Igna snuffed the urgency and cupped her hands.

“Tragedy is never far, Igna, look at me, am I pretty?”

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Good, I want to look my best for when death comes,” she spoke slowly and meticulously, almost as if choosing the easiest pronounceable words.

“I can still save you.”

She shook her head, “-I want to retire. I’m tired, this is the end of my life. Igna, tell me, where’s Staxius?”

“Right here,” he replied, “-look at you,” the face dropped to a nonchalant expression, “-the idol who sang in war. It seems we both reached our limits.”

“Is that you, Staxius?”

“The one and only, my dear Aceline, the one and only. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m content to call it quits. I did love long you oh so much, Igna, Staxius, I love you so much. What if we were married, what if I became your queen – I dreamed of us all the time but,” her parched lips barely moved, “-it was never in our destiny.”

“I know,” he leaned and gave a peck on her forehead, “-Aceline, let me selfish one more time.” She shook her head and looked through the window, “-here she comes, the harbinger of death,” the room halted in reality, a gorgeously dressed Undrar pulled her skeletal horse, and it vanished with her smoothly on her feet. “Hello, Igna.”

“Undrar?”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, I am, why are you here?”

“To take her soul. Aceline’s subject to quite a lot – you plucked her soul from the past and altered the very fabric of birth and death. Frankly speaking, I don’t know if it’s possible to reinstate a corrupted soul through the cycle of life and death. She’ll be stuck wandering the line between reality and the ethereal realm.”

“Nothing can be done?”

“Hence why I’m here. If her soul can’t pass, I’ll escort her to the hall of rebirth. There, perhaps she’ll find a warm place to stay and wait out the end of time.”

“So gloomy,” he glanced over, “-Undrar, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Looking over me,” he smiled, “-I’ve decided to be selfish one last time.”

A scythe wrapped around his neck, “-don’t think about reviving her, Igna. You’ve caused enough disturbance,” her tone struck, the current sovereign of death wasn’t going to take insolence. He pushed her weapon, “-Undrar, don’t be an idiot,” he ducked and made towards the frozen body, “-I’ll transfer her to the Shadow Realm. Doesn’t matter if she lives there or in the Hall of Rebirth.”

“No,” cautioned Undrar, “-the clockwork curse on her soul will tell Artanos where she is.”

“Oh, don’t forget who I am,” ancient symbols materialized, “-with this, the clockwork spell will disintegrate,” and it did literally turn to smoke, “-Undrar, you’re amazing.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Oh, nothing much, it’s just something I wanted to say for a long time. It came to me in a dream, I spoke to someone, a strange man of military background – said the name was Mark, or so I remember. Dreams are weird things,” he rose his palms, *Living or dead, I invite all to the realm of absurdity, serve me and my companions, be one of a greater family. Forgo the past and look towards the future, one in which thou art be immortal and without regret. Box of Soul: Shadow Realm Transmigration.*