The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 740: Old Friends

A wander across the populated street of Lai seemed to greatly affect Aceline’s prior mood. Step by step through the stone pavement, the density of the buildings rose onwards to massive proportions. Casting a curious look onto the foreign establishment, ‘-so many unexplored areas, a lot more happens than is ever credited for. Everyone who walks the street has objectives, dreams, a personality; a uniqueness alone to them. Aceline’s in much of the same way, what’s her aspiration, what does she want to accomplish. I knew I heard her voice when we were at the prison cell, the radio played one of her old tracks. She’s returned to the limelight,” before much longer, they were at the epicenter, the theater square continently named Oatway Square. Its counterpart, Oatway Street, marked 01 to 05, laid in wait a short walk away. Traffic, the god-awful noise of traffic, amplified by the constant chatter from the city. In no way was the square a restful place, rather, a convenient commute/landmark for people to recognize. A statue of moderate stature stands overlooking the advertisement-filled street. Billboards three quarter that of buildings proudly advertised products – the makeup and fashion industry boomed, models, recognizable faces from Vorn, poured their beauty. Four benches at the four cardinal points guarded the statue. The seat to the south, which faced the north, and consequently the Oatway Street, cleared.

“Where have you been all this time?” inquired Aceline, her smooth hair swayed by the wind’s whim. An overarching tree shielded what little sun was available. The combination of a face mask and spectacles drowned her character in the sea of frenzied youth.

“I’m wondering about the mask,” cigar lit, “-is the popularity so much so you ought to shield thy identity?”

“And, would it be a problem,” her head tilted, her concealed brows looked to the sky, “-an advertising blimp, look at the model on the picture.”

“Oh wow,” he motioned an applaud without the sound, “-I see the Pride of Hidros’s had a warm welcome home. Very convenient the public doesn’t ask questions.”

“The tone seems rather cynical today, what’s the matter?”

“I met an interesting fellow who may prove to be a nuisance in the near future. I was gone for a long time. For that, I apologize. Tell me, Aceline, how’s life been?”

.....

“Normal I’d say, well normal for show business.”

“I mean for you, not the organization.”

“Personal life’s been personal, I haven’t done much in ways of socializing. Vorn and I grew closer, the shared bond of performers truly grew on us, I’m glad I met them, they rekindled my passion for music. I’ve honestly given up on the world of movies and shows, I’m content here, a singer who’s the host of a cozy little radio show. Romantically, nothing of much interest happened, between my misgivings and fear of my prior life, the struggle’s been at a deal-able level.”

“I see,” he puffed, “-you hired the violinist we met so long ago, I forgot the name and I care not to remember. The event in Alphia sure was a disaster, a festival turned to slaughter.”

“He’s a good kid,” she smiled, “-currently enrolled at the music academy. The skill is there, he’s better worth investing into the world of classical music. We bring him on to perform once in a while,” she lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose, “-what about you and I forming a band...”

“We can still do it,” he smiled, “-I’m afraid not professionally, state of things as is have shackled my hands. There’s much to happen, I thought to take December off and enjoy a moment’s rest, expectation didn’t quite match reality. My promise still stands regardless of the medium, you said you were content by the current way of life, a humble commute of music and radio talk show – it’s an inviting way of a life, tranquil and off the wave of media attention. What more can I say, it sounds like excuses.”

“I know,” she inched closer and rested her head on his shoulder, “-the promise is more than enough. Our friendship transcends the limits of life and death, we’ve known one another in our past life – look at us now, I mean, look at the cityscape. Technology, magic, people, everyone’s advance so much – feels more of a dream, a pleasant one. Here I say, don’t worry about the promise we made, I know one day we’ll play in a band together – I’ve all the time in the world, since the rebirth, I found my body to be impervious to injuries. It heals instantly, regardless of my age, I don’t seem to show signs of getting old. So you see, I don’t mind waiting. The year went past, I met new friends, began a new life, I don’t mind it anymore, I found my way forward.”

“The strong Aceline,” he smiled, “-I still vividly remember the first time we met, the performance you gave at Claireville academy. To change the world through music, someone with great ideals and actions to back her thoughts. I was impressed and still am. There was a time where you lost yourself to the world of Odgawoan, narcotics, corruption, casting couch, the pride of Hidros’s last cry. I’m glad you’re back, experience the world and watch,” he stood, “-I’m going to change the world,” he turned, straight-faced, her expression, frozen in admiration, crumbled into smiles, they laughed out loud, calling on the attention of onlookers, “-the perfect scenario to say the perfect cliched line.”

“I know,” her eyes watered, “-right on, it was so out of character I couldn’t decide if it were to be a joke or not!”

“Change the world,” the giggles kept on till a calming inhale, “-the latter changes, there’s no need for our intervention,” he held out a hand, “-let’s take a walk, I’ll recount what happened.” Across the same pavements, alongside the same luxury shop windows, they spent an hour or two. The story of Hades and Persephone lit a flame, therein rose Apexi’s headquarters, “-we’re back,” he finished.

“I know,” she smiled, “-I had an awesome time. Welcome back Igna,” a high-five echoed, “-if you need anything, reach out. I’ll tell the others you said hi.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, the hands dove into the pockets, ‘-a nice time she says, suppose I did frequently burst into laughter. My mood seems better,’ a glance at the phone showed bicolored pupils, ‘-Origin’s happy, I feel his heart. Maybe this is what they call taking a break,’ the horde of office workers swept him on his feet, ‘-should I bring back a present?’ a confectionary stood across the way from the tram-stop, ‘-when in doubt, get sweets.’ The door opened into a dark-tone room made of dark wood, the displays outlined by faint traces of gold, threw focus onto the items inside. Additional ornaments were unrelated to the sweets, a brown teddy bear, horns of a reindeer cupped in a corner, the name, Granlo’s written in calligraphy, and a neatly dressed confectioner.

“How may I help you?” crawled from behind the succulent display.

“-Algeria,” the name escaped, the glances exchanged, “-Tristin Algeria, right?”

“Yes, and you are?” she rose from the seat and shuffled closer.

“The Alchemist,” he smiled, “-and you are, Tristin Algeria, the eccentric chef, vice-president at Leko’s Academy.”

“Let me think,” she ambled all the way to the storefront, “...”

“Your hair’s shorter and I see the teddy’s on the counter. The world’s a small place.”

“I REMEMBER!” she exclaimed, “ITS YOU!” nearly headbutting the client, “-I REMEMBER KNOW.”

“There’s no need to scream.”

“I apologize,” she skipped to the door, turned on the sign which read, ‘-on lunch break,’ skipped to a table, tapped the chair, “-let’s chat.” The table kindly gazed the outside through a semi-transparent lush curtain.

“Chat?”

“Yes, let’s catch up,” she smiled, “-I was getting bored of waiting for a client. Order anything you want, it’s on you...”

“On me huh,” he laughed, “-bring whatever you wish.”

“Understood, I’ll stuff myself on thy tab, thank you very much,” she sprinted to the display and expertly arranged the sweets.

A generous arrangement arrived, “-sorry for the wait.”

“Quite the assortment,” he commented, “-tell me, what’s a Red-collared chef doing here?”

“No idea myself,” her energic tone eased, “-the Alchemist of Cooking, brings back fond memories. The highlight of my life was spent at the Academy, the rivalry between you and Kyle was one to behold. I mean, he worked so hard to get to his position and you, a nobody, tutored by Leko and the Medusa of Cooking, a highly anticipated genius in the cooking world vanished after Cle. Kyle became a celebrity while the former prodigy of Medusa faded into the background. Lady Yuki took a liking to him; I heard her daughter relinquished her claims over the family to pursue music. Last I heard of him was the marriage proposal sent for Syndra. I would be angry too if my mentor suddenly changed sides to my rival, the judging process was a fiasco. Regardless, Kyle became a superstar, an event of absolute wonder occurred on said day, the rejuvenation of Amsey, a legend in the culinary world. People still theorized how a meal could turn back time on a geezer. Man, I wish you had joined the academy sooner, who knows, you, Kyle, Juo, Patricia, and I might have become best friends.”

“I never wanted to be a chef, the position sort of fell into place. I knew little of myself, just a boy in a foreign place. I don’t regret cooking, the paths I followed eventually ended me to where I am. I met my mother, my family and remembered who I was meant to be. I’m very surprised you’re here, then again, Granlo is a world-renowned brand.”

“That we are,” she winked, “-thanks to me, I made most of their best sellers. How wealthy are you now?”

“Quite a blunt question, do you not have tact?”

“Stop being a silly sausage, tell me, I want to know. The suit looks expensive, the briefcase looks nice and clean, not to mention, you entered this shop, a place made to extortionate the rich for the chance to taste heaven on a plate. Sweets are a great way to win over a lady – our cheap price ranges in around 550 Exa.”

“Ask a lady about her age and a man about his wallet, both are taboo subjects. Since we’re akin to acquaintances, my official title is Son of the Queen of Arda, Viscount of Glenda, Igna Haggard.”

“A PRINCE!”

“Energy, calm it,” quick to exhale, “-you never told Kyle about your feelings, have you?”

“What brought this on?”

“Here I was expecting a bashful reaction, Tristin.”

“I’ve over the whole romance thing,” her inhaling of snacks stopped, “-Kyle and I have grown distant, I can’t remember the last time we spoke. Life moves on.”

“Which is why a red-collar chef is out here working as opposed to advancing the culinary world.”

“You have no right to tell me that,” she glared, “-for someone who ran away from cooking, I take those words with great offense.”

“Oh, stop it with the dramaticism. You wanted to know how rich I was?” he stood, “-how about an offer to work for me.”

“No way,” she denied, “-not going to happen, absolutely not. I’m happy working here, tis peaceful.”

“And I say it’s a waste of talent.”

“Says the biggest waste of all.”

“Listen, I don’t have to answer thy questions. Tell me, Tristin, isn’t it the dream of every chef to open up a place of their own. I’m willing to invest in your talents – the academy should have to train thee in the ways of managing a high-end restaurant. There’s a look of dissatisfaction. I want to see the eccentric cook take to the stove once again. There’s a multitude of ways to express thy feelings, and I know just the way which will benefit us in the long run. I seize a great opportunity when I see one, a stranded red-collar chef of the prodigious era left on her own is one I can’t pass. Money isn’t a problem,” they exchanged contact information, “-, I can make the dreams come true. Call me if you interested,” sweets in a neat back, “-see you soon, Tristin.”

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