The Wielder of Death Magic

1092 Confession

“Igna, is that you?”

“Hello, mother.”

“How long has it been?”

“I couldn’t say,” the view from atop the capital’s divine tree sent waves of nostalgia. Igna could but watch with widened eyes, the world seemed a perfect mix of harmony – chaos and resets, the ideal combination for a smooth view, “-Arda seems better. Look at the walls.”

“The Great wall of Arda,” she smiled, “-a fortress built by you and your cousin. It’s strange, thinking it suddenly materialized. Then again, we are in a place of magic. Tell me, Igna,” she grabbed his hands, “-are you okay?”

“I am,” he returned, “-mother, I’m here to bid my farewell.”

“You going on a trip?”

“I can’t say it’s a trip. You must know the legend of the three in one?”

“Ahh,” she dropped his hands and grabbed his shoulder, “-you have awakened. If only you had the Death Reaper’s weapon. I might have- well, never mind.”

.....

“Don’t speak of such things, mother. You are the queen of Arda. Mother, I ought to ask a favor.”

“Ask away.”

“Could Glenda be granted to Alta?”

“Excuse you?”

“Mother, the news of my death will reach the capital any minute. Today’s my last in Orin. I’d like to settle any loose holes there may be.”

“You’re leaving, but why? Couldn’t Orin be converted into a stable base camp?”

“Far too dangerous. My duty is to birth an eventual cataclysm,” he stared at the distant forestry, “-and I would rather not have the world fall. You understand, yes?”

“If you care about the world, why go through the trouble of destroying it?”

“Simple,” he smiled, “-because I want to.”

“Right,” she pulled his arms, “-kneel.”

“Okay,” he obeyed, and soon found the pants against a damp leave-like floor. She jumped and tightly embraced her son, “-do what you must, Igna. Follow the path you sought and don’t have regrets. Such is my wish as your mother, and more than anything, I want you to find happiness. Where will you be going?”

“Me,” he stood, “-I’m going to visit an old place then head off to Lucifer’s domain.”

“Lucifer’s domain. I see.”

“Anyway, mother,” he grabbed her hands, “-thank you for everything. If not for the acceptance, I would have remained a chef, not knowing my past or regaining my memories. You breathed a second life into my idle journey. Like journeys of old, it comes a time when it ends. Thus, I have decided my adventure’s nearing its completion.”

“Good,” she smiled, “-the people you met on the way, the experiences, the friends you’ve made, I’m sure those memories will last centuries to come. Don’t be rash,” she leaned, “-as a Haggard, you must win.” Her words came at the same moment the tree’s flowers dispersed. Petals fluttered – the pieces came akin to his memories – familiar faces on each, the Silver Guardians, Julius, Autumn, Sophie, the list carries on and on without a stop. Good memories are good places to regain one’s lost sense of self. The burden carried over the decades lifted, he breathed a sigh of relief, leaned and kissed Courtney’s head, smiled, then disappeared, *Ancient-Arts: Teleportation.*

A rustic breeze anointed with recently cut grass tickled the nostrils. Lines of students headed to school, and the trees prefacing the gates grew into beautiful pink mashes of colors. It’s shed, the trickle of pink added a sense of relief.

‘Claireville Academy,’ he smiled and stood one step off the slope headed up, “-the place it all started.”

“Who’s that?”

“I don’t know but he’s very handsome.”

“Yeah, I know, like a movie star.”

“Doesn’t he look a bit like the Empress of Arda?”

“Yeah, the white hair, oh my god, he’s so handsome.”

“Staxius?” came a distant whisper.

He spun, for a second – memories tangled reality, “-Sophie.”

“Igna,” she quickly shook her head, “-my apologies. Are you well?”

“Yeah,” he refocused onto the gates, “-Claireville Academy. I’m surprised you’re not wearing bright red lipstick and stern glasses. It was quite the moment we had, my entrance exam and the following events. I came to relive part of my past. Is it okay if I walk for a bit?”

“Sure,” she strode, “-Igna Haggard.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, she went past to be welcomed by nervous students, “-greetings Director,” they mumbled as the days went on. ‘Enough reminiscing,’ the buildings stood firmly in the distance, Igna paused at the gates. The student’s attention grew tenuous, many of the girls seemed unnaturally energetic. ‘I’ve had enough,’ Autumn’s pinch of his shirt, the misunderstanding that grew a nice relationship between him and Julius, the sad fact that they won’t return – the warm flames of nostalgia burnt. An outbreak sufficed, ‘-the world goes on without my intervention. I’ve seen what I needed,’ *Ancient-Arts: Teleportation,* peaceful to chaotic and noisy, “-Rosespire’s Lai, the home of Hidros’ popular showbusiness, vanity-influenced world. Before him rose a skyscraper of peerless proportion, Apexi’s headquarters. ‘-Holy hell,’ he gawked, ‘-Julius must have made a fortune with the agency.

“Young master,” hailed the gatekeeper, “-are you here to see someone?”

“Yeah, I’m here for Synthia, is she around?”

“Yes, yes, the actress should be on her break. Shall I inform her of your arrival?”

“I’ll inform her myself if that is alright?”

“Right on, majesty, please.”

The gates opened, ‘-majesty,’ he shook his head, turned at the guard, and snapped, *Art of Naught – Memory Dispersions.*

‘Why the gates open?’ the guard scratched his head, ‘-doesn’t look like anyone’s here,’ he toggled the mechanism. ‘Jin the Ripper,’ marred the hallways, and the place was excitedly on edge with the film. Staff members ran to and fro, and artists had taken many studios hostage. The grit of moviemaking. The director’s guttural orders, and the star’s frightening slumped shoulders, ‘-this looks more like a training facility with the director as a drill sergeant. I wonder how Syhton’s doing,’ he chose a seat in one of the many waiting rooms. This particular one led directly into the shoot – the doors were firmly locked, leaving only a worker tending the refreshment shop.

“What’s the point of a murder mystery without blood,” shrugged a skimpily dressed lady, “-and I went through the effort of gathering the blood of virgins. What a pain.”

“Lady Serene, you must be out of your mind. Using real blood will stain the outfits and isn’t cleaned easily. The production crew is vexed.”

“Who am I to care,” she yawned, “-Apexi’s financing the whole movie, I have some leeway in what’s to be done,” she casually slammed the counter, “-two Deps.”

“Coming right up,” she flipped against the counter, uncapped her bottle, drank; narrowly caught silvery-white hair, ‘-is that?’

“Master!”

“How goes it, Serene.”

“Lady Serene, you’re needed on set.”

“I’ll be right there, give me a moment,” she skipped and dropped beside him excitedly, “-long time no see, master.”

“Two Deps, you sure are thirsty.”

“Are you saying that because of my outfit?” she winked and crossed her legs, the lack of cloth grew sterner, “-I love my job as eye candy,” she sipped, “-tell me, why are you here, master?”

“To talk to Synthia, is she around?”

“Yeah, she should be in her room. Her shoot’s not until later. Forget about that, master, you look different.”

“Says the one who’s grown younger. The blood of virgins, huh?”

“Stop it,” her cheeks flushed, “-I didn’t mean it that way. I only wanted the youth’s energy…”

“Yeah, no,” he opened his palm, “-no more, your choice of words is as bad as I remember. Fun,” he exhaled, “-anyway, Serene, I should get going. Where’s Synthia’s room?”

“The upper floors,” she threw a tag, “-this’ll get through security. We’re careful, since the attempted assassination.”

“Right, thanks for the head up,” a high-five had Igna headed for the lift, ‘-the attempted assassination of an Apexi’ employed star. They choose the wrong people to go after. The response was bloody and merciless, with the destruction of the growing assassination gang. Do not mess with the Dark Guilds,’ he tapped, and the rectangle rose.

The corridor was built like those of an expensive hotel. Great space from one to the other, tightened security of which were members of Phantom.

‘Syhton’s room,’ *tap, tap,*

“A moment,” said a familiar voice, the following shuffles and stumbles soon reached for a click, “-who is it?” the fatigued Syhton pulled the door ajar, her face brightened, “-IGNA?”

“Surprise,” she threw aside the door and leaped into his arms,” -IGNA!” her arms tightened, her cheeks rested on his shoulder, “-I’ve missed you!” guards side-glanced enviously, to which, he nodded and entered her room, “-Syhton, I’ve missed you too.”

No warning or patience, she pounced, they locked lips and made out in the foyer. Her intent was clear, he placed her on a shelf, and she tore at his clothes – passion sprinkled the room in white and pink. The clock snapped to 14:54, and he sat on the bed whilst she got into her clothes, “-Jin the Ripper, how’s the movie so far?”

“I don’t know. I do what the director asks. It’s fun.”

“Good,” he smiled, “-I’m glad it’s working out.”

“What about you, Igna, you look down,” she crossed he regard using the mirror, “-it’s not like you to visit. Did something happen in Istra?”

“Yeah, my job here is done. I came to wish you good luck.”

“Why?”

“I’m headed to another realm, I’m leaving Orin for good, I think.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a long story. Aunt Elvira has the details.”

She paused and clenched her fist, “-ask aunt Elvira, are you serious?”

“What?”

“Igna, are you serious?”

“My bad, my bad,” he rose both arms, “-that was careless of me. Come,” he tapped the bed, “-I’ll tell you everything on one condition.”

“What?”

“You won’t quit the movie and come to my aid. I’ll take care of this matter, you live the best life you can, understand?”

“My best life is with you at my side,” she sighed, “-well, it’s not like you’re the only one I care about. I still have to watch over Yuki, your ex-lover.”

.....

“Don’t bring up her name,” he pressed his forehead, “-it’s awkward and uncomfortable.”

“Fine, fine, whatever.”

Thus, for the next few minutes, Igna went into details about what transpired. The three in one, his awakening, the job he ought to do, she kindly listened with an understanding smile. In said instant, ‘-Syhton’s the best companion I could have asked,’ said deep lingering thought, “-Syhton,” he stopped, “-I love you.”

“Stop it,” she looked away, “-drop a bombshell then sugarcoat it, you’re cruel.”

“I know, I know.”

*Tap, tap,* “-lady Synthia, we’re ready.”

“Job calls,” he took her hand, “-Syhton – I’m leaving the castle in your hands. You’re my aid and I trust you wholeheartedly. Send me a message when the movie premieres, and I’ll come rushing,” he opened his palm and summoned a weirdly shaped box; her heart sank, “-Igna?”

He opened, “-Syhton, I know the customs of the mortal realm do not mean much to a goddess. However, the mortal realm has very affectionate ways of showing love and commitment. As a boy of Dorchester, I can’t abandon my mortal ways,” he smiled, “- you were by my side through pain and suffering, I never imagined I’d grow feelings of this nature. You, my goddess, are amazing and kind. You’re everything a man could ever want, this is why,” he went on one knee, “-to show my conviction,” he took out the ring, “-will you be mine forever?”

Syhton held her mouth, the crystal-blue pupils watered, her heart raced, and pins and needles took her extremities, “-Igna,” she shook, “-for someone who takes pride in not letting people close, why?”

“…” nothing, he simply grinned. She lowered her head, “-I swear,” she held her heart, “-you’re the only person who makes my heart race like this,” and leaped into his arms – they fell, “-long as reality exists, Igna, I will be yours,” she straddled his waist and summoned a ring of her own, “-I love you, Igna, I love you.”

“And I adore you, Syhton, my goddess.”

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