The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 744: ‘-they who protect, mustn’t be protected.’

“But a pretender you say,” she repeated, “-care to elaborate?”

“You really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” he took a deep breath, eased into an economically shaped chair, the high-ceiling seemed to be a vortex of unknown proportions. The sheer height of the spire made the scape outside to be blue and white. It felt nothing to the usual, Intherna swayed softly in her raised bed, the red hair freed to flow down the side, she watched silently, “-before I begin, you sure this place is free from people’s ear?”

“Yes, there’s a barrier as well. Come on my friend, elaborate, what is the pretender all about.”

“I guess it began when I first awoke on the battlefield from a calming voice. The place was filled with blood, permeated by death, and presided by warriors – I was rescued and taken to an academy for treatment. My memories were blank, I had no name and couldn’t grasp what I was to become and represent. Afterward, I met lady Haru, started the journey as a chef till I met lady mother, there my life really changed for the better. The memories returned, a less than amiable personality in form of a voice took a seat in my higher consciousness. There is where I started second-guessing who I was, never really spoke out or paid the matter any thought, deep down I knew I was a fake, a pretender. Igna could never beat Staxius, and Staxius Haggard, my previous incarnation, could never accept what sort of being Igna Haggard was. The two entities are the same as me, and I’m the same as the two, I understand what Staxius would have done, and act according to what Igna thinks is best. I know I’m the heir to death – a soul chosen at random to do his bidding. You said elaborate on what I meant to be a pretender, it’s simple, I’m acting the part. When I see people in pain, I can’t help but snarl and shrug. Turn the situation around, if people I know, those I deem close to me are in danger, I practically swap into a bloodthirsty killer. What remains of Staxius Haggard is the memories, the personality, and the way of thinking is gone, perhaps merged into what I am now – then again, the constant reevaluation of who I am as a person has left me dumbfounded. There’s never a conclusion, a simple word comes to mind, fake. Strength-wise, well, the truth is already known, I’m weak. A curse’s been inflicted on my soul, a corrupted core can never transcend the mortal bounds and become anything bigger. A massive limiter’s been placed, and yes, I can easily circumvent the curse and unleash powers on levels of a god – however, the over usage of the death element has removed that particular card from my hand. I’m stuck in a loop where each part directly affects the other. What would Staxius have done, what would he have thought of, a quandary of concrete proportion has been stamped? I can’t complain, I chose to become this way, and the acceptance of a Watcher’s power meant my end, the final end to the persona dubbed Staxius Haggard. I’m dead, there’s nothing about myself I find to be real, nothing substantial, I exist everywhere and nowhere at the same time. What more do you want me to say,” he shot a sincere gaze, “-tell me, Intherna, am I not worthy of the Shadow Realm now?”

“Wrong,” she quickly returned, “-there’s no need to worry. The Shadow Realm is more than able to make up for the lack in strength, unleash the powers from here into thineself and watch the universe tremble.”

“Not a wise choice, revealing the realm is a bad idea, I’d like to keep it a secret for long.”

“There,” she pointed, “-Staxius wouldn’t have taken the safe approach, the man I knew was reckless and rightfully so, any problem or enemy thrown at him would be repaid in kind – there’s nothing which could have bested him save the intervention of Zeus and Lucifer. The gods truly neutralized their biggest threat. Meanwhile, we have Igna Haggard, the reincarnation, who’s from what I’ve noticed, is more in touch with his emotions and the latter is reliant on the color of the pupils. The instant the crimson eyes bleed into the white canvas, emotion’s lost and he stares, thinking about the better solution. Keep the realm a secret, caution is for the wise, overcaution is for the coward. Sad to say, you fall into the latter.”

.....

“Coward, fool, I don’t mind, I’ll face whatever comes my way. I have allies and I can count on them when the time is right. The intervention of the four General isn’t necessary anymore, I said it before and I say it again, tis thy choice to help or to watch, I won’t complain, matter of fact, I don’t expect help from the goddesses.”

“Are you crossed?”

“Not in the least,” he kept a composed expression, “-I think of it to be a blessing, four goddesses for me to pray to, strong entities who, combined, may alter a world’s fate on a whim, that is extraordinary.”

“Igna,” she called, the trail of thought disrupted, “-are you well, is the mind ok, what’s the formal tone and lesser approach, do you feel uncomfortable around me?”

“I would be lying if I said no. What sort of person wouldn’t flinch in face of a high-tier goddess, I mean, look at you, if it ever crossed thy fancy to destroy, I wouldn’t be in a position to stop the carnage.”

“Stop downplaying your abilities,” she fired, “-makes you sound weak.”

“I know myself better than you,” he rose, “-at the end of the day, I’m a pretender, a fake. I don’t mind it,” jumped onto the window ledge, “-takes the pressure away,” turned to face her,”-living up to expectation was never a thing I enjoyed. Thank you for the talk, putting thoughts into words has shown the path to take. Take care, Intherna, I’ll be on my way,” the body fell backward, a gust rummaged inside, glass clicked, the shelves shook and the tables trembled.

‘A pretender,’ she laid and shut her eyes, ‘-never thought the day would come where he’d say those things outright. My expectations were high, he doesn’t realize it himself, a beast sleeps inside, Staxius’s not gone, he is Staxius. Time’s effect on a person, the day the killing intent seeps through his body and mind, I shudder to be at the receiving end. Was nice talking to him, I had fun,’ the eyelids grew heavy, she fell into a peaceful slumber.

Wings retracted after a sharp flap, a soft landing gave in to the inner castle gate, the secondary precaution in case the fortress was ever attacked. Here, the gravel paths of the castle town swapped for tiles of stone-bricked paths adored by white curbs. A top-down view showed green divided by the orangish pathways, some harbored grass, fruit trees, gardens, a fountain, and much more. Contrary to expectation, the further he walked into the courtyard, the lesser grew guards, sufficed to say, if the people’s knight were seen wandering the yard, the insult would reflect badly onto the generals. There’s a saying, ‘-they who protect, mustn’t be protected,’ one unique to the Shadow Realm. White-stairs rose into an immaculate structure, Intherna’s spire could be seen peeping over the rest, ‘-pretender, huh. The word truly matches what I feel,’ he smiled, ‘-I feel empty, such a lazy feeling, I like it.’ Retainers, upon sight of Igna, whispered to their fellow workers, the few maids responsible for cleaning the entrance hall scurried into the vastness of the coming great hall. A red carpet lined the marble floor, expensive stairs held railing of shining dark-wood, slithering its way from an upper-area, portraits of the guardians hung onto an ornamentally crafted wall, the sheer scale put the manor in Alphia to shame.

“Pardon me, might I ask who you are?” inquired a butler who stood straightly before two maids who held each other.

“Have I offended in some way?” returned Igna.

“Not in the least, the generals have a policy of allowing anyone to visit the castle – though none has ever taken up on the offer. What sort of man would brazen walk through that arched walkway.”

“A foolish man,” he replied.

“Or a strong man,” added the butler, “-curiosity aside, do you have business with our masters?”

“Yes, would it be inconvenient for me to ask for Lady Miira’s audience?”

“Not in the least,” said the sharply dressed butler, the face bore features of the elven clan, a more intricate scan showed the maids to share the elven blood, *clap,* “-ladies, is it possible to ask for Lady Yuria’s presence.”

“On it, head butler,” they scurried into one of the many halls. A simple upright grin laid onto the visitor; “-will it be a bother if I accompany?”

“Be my guest.”

*Woosh,* a heavy boom bellowed, the butler’s face shook, “-by the heavens, they’ve returned.”

‘Who’s returned,’ he wondered, ‘-he’s sweating profusely, what kind of entity has the power to shake a well-grounded man to the core.’ “-Hey, is something the matter?”

“...”

“Hello,” he waved, “-wake up.”

“Pardon me,” the head snapped to reality, “-I apologize for my behavior, my instinct overwhelmed my judgment. It would be best if we leave,” he strode forth, “-follow me.” Distant chatter and laughter permeated; the butler’s advance interrupted by the familiar voices. Meanwhile, deeper in the castle, the maids tapped onto an ajar door, “-Lady Yuria, someone’s come to visit, he wishes an audience with lady Miira.”

“Who has the guts to call onto a general so frivolously,” pulled from the study table, “-let’s go, ladies,” quick to slid into her coat, “-I’ll kindly refuse the man’s request.”

“So cool,” whispered the duo.

*Clop, clop, clop,* shadows of powerful entities approached, the chatter, gibberish to the point of sounding akin to ancient spells, cleared into a few audible syllables. “-We should really run, I don’t want to suffer through their games,” mental flashbacks wrote suffering, across the visage, “-let’s get out of here right away.”

“Too bad,” replied Igna, “-they’re already here,” the pale expression glanced.

“We have a new guest?”

“Can’t be.”

“I don’t care...”

“You care, look!”

‘Hold on a moment,’ he stepped before the butler and squinted, sun’s glare made it hard to decipher the faces. Rapid paced steps echoed, “-wait!” the two gawked, “-she’s running, she’s really running!” it leaped, he opened his arms, “-FATHER!” exclaimed a high-pitch squeal.

“VANESA!” he hugged tightly, “-how are you,” they spun joyously.

“Father?” the remainder rushed into the fray, “-POPS!” an ox-like charge dug into his chest, tipping the balance, ‘-brace,’ they gritted and fell, “-POPS, POPS!”

“Draconis,” he clambered to a sit, “-energetic as always,” the boy went around and hug tightly from behind, he hopped in a way to rock Igna back and forth, the warm cheeks took comfort in snuggling to Igna’s face, “-it’s been so long,” he said, “-feels like ages since I’ve seen you three.”

“Hello pops,” waved Saniata, “-long time no see,” she stood neatly, “-I don’t get why it was necessary to rush in and ambush the man.”

“Shut up flat top,” fired Draconis, “-shortening the skirt won’t take away that flat chest of yours.”

“Draconis...”

“Forget about them,” said Vanesa, “-look at me, look at me,” her oily visage and messy hair brought nostalgia, “-pops, pops, am I pretty yet?”

“What, you have something to say?” fired the boy, “-here I thought the meat to have given some sense of intelligence. Looks like I was wrong.”

“SHUT UP, BRAT!”

“HA-HA, flat-chested Saniata’s angry. Girl, you look like a grade-schooler, calm down,” he pulled his tongue in a grimace.

“Pops, pops, look at me,” Vanesa latched around his neck, “-I want food and play, play with me, I want to sleep, no, forget the play, let’s sleep.”

“You foolish boy,” she called onto her lute, posed strongly, then played, the melody sent needle-like projectiles.

“Not fair,” a weak fire barrier conjured.

“Tis but music, meathead, something you wouldn’t understand,” the notes intensified.

‘My children,’ he smiled at the cacophony, ‘-I did miss them.’

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