The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 794: The Great Collapse [8]

A small victory, yes, in spite of having been against a force of around three thousand, the act felt pointless in the greater picture. There was a reason why said month would be named the great collapse. Igna’s attempts to fight a war on his lonesome were met with mockery more so than praise, the former came from the people themselves. The tale of his victory made neither sense nor impact, the only solace found was the visible agitation of the Elven King’s action. There on, the days fell one after the other similar to a domino, they toppled until New Year.

Rosespire’s night lit with a thousand flames. Orbs of alternating hues hovered above, there was a nationwide celebration – the new years festival, a stable of Hidronian Culture instated decades ago, at the time where the previous king held his power. Between the news of a war of Alphia against the Empire, the upper-echelon, and we speak not of puny nobles who’ve mind but to fill their coffers and walk over the populous – the fate laid in the hands of royalty.

The castle’s decoration rivaled even the sky-scraping landscape it overlooked; the animation was fluid and so were the people, one of the many hotspots was the Rosian Media Square and Oatway streets. Generously dressed folks, families, couples, name it, and they were present to enjoy what the capital-wide festivities had to offer.

Where the citizens had fun and enjoyed their lives, as they should – a bubbling kettle bordered spillage. Black-colored luxurious cars pulled before the castle gates, the incline slope leading upward had been barred at the bottom with guardrails and rougher-looking fighters. The group entered after multiple checks, crossing the inner-castle town and to the main entrance. The olden style of stairs and craftmanship harmoniously embodied the liveliness of the outside decorations, a red carpet rolled over the breaks in steps – retainers stood with hands folded before them. The cars shuffled around a fountain till the middle most vehicles halted at the carpet. A bodyguard leaped to open the door; around them carried an aura of despair. White hair ending in bright crimson burrowed through the temperate breeze, hair locks freely followed the wind’s whims, each step taken resounded, the retainers gulped, Igna climbed to unseen heights. 31st of December, he was ordered to visit at least a week ago – tardiness to her majesty could and would be seen as a blatant act of insolence. Still, by the brazen nature inherit to his disposition, he made no issue of cross-glaring those who dared give a malicious stare.

“Lord Igna Haggard,” said an attending noble, “-a pleasure to see thee again,” he said.

“Baron Denlord,” returned Igna stood at the opening to a grandly decorated dance hall, “-long time no see,” he replied courteously. The golden-colored tall-ceiling and immaculately drawn tiles led to an elevated platform at the far end of the gathering – there performed musicians, counting within their members were Rocher Cartney and his renowned performances. The man had his fingers upon the keys as if a beast with claws on its prey, the harshness in the gestures boldly differed from what was heard, a peaceful and relaxing melody enhanced by Maestro Nevah. The violins were the best he had heard, and within the line of violinist, Igna spotted Celina in a lovely formal dress, she poured her heart and soul into each note, “-pardon me for spacing out,” he returned to the Baron, “-there wasn’t much stock in thy aura. Your son’s recovery has been going very well at the clinic. Be sure, I’ll make sure he’s up to speed and burning asphalt once again,” he tipped his head and carried further inside. The baron, hard as he tried, wasn’t able to hide the malicious crinkle – he tore himself and viciously eyed Igna’s back, ‘-I’ll kill-‘ flashed through his mind, a heavy shadow teleported in between the duo, a tall man shook his index finger the same as a mother would to her misbehaving child. The little scene garnered many mild laughs from the attending guests.

“Master,” said éclair, “-what should I do with the man?”

.....

“Leave him alone,” he replied, “-let’s head for the balcony.”

“What of the party?”

“Julius will handle the pleasantries,” he smiled and stepped outside. As said, the prince took to the inside and charmingly met the nobles who gathered around holding baskets of fake compliments and admiration.

“Pardon me,” inquired a lady standing a few inches shy of éclair’s shoulder, “-might I excuse myself?”

“Why?” fired éclair, “-a maid must stay at her master’s side.”

“No, leave her,” returned Igna overlooking the well-light orchard, “-she’s free to partake in the celebrations. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Thank you very much,” she bowed to Igna, ‘-ha-ha,’ and mocked éclair.

“Master, you shouldn’t spoil her.”

“Leave her,” he said, “-her eccentric nature brings up the mood. Look at Julius, cousin’s been very depressed – if not for Yui and her very charged personality, I’m hard to picture him escaping the clutches of woe.”

“The master knows best,” he said.

“éclair, what do you think of Phantom and the Federation.”

“Phantom’s holding strong with the support from Elon’s Dynasty. I imagine it’s hard for them the hold-off Elendor’s subjugation lest he flies to Hidros. I don’t think much good will come from the Federation, my foresight is objective, and based on pros and cons, the odds don’t favor an alliance as of yet. Arda’s hard enough to rule; opinion isn’t necessarily in our favor,” the conversation stopped as another stranger parted the heavy curtains.

Igna side-glanced, ‘-Tan skin, light-brown hair, the face of a child, the heart of a mother, the charm of a seducer, and the courage of a hunter, Prince Easel Run the III. A boy who came to rule at a young age, and at a young age he had to fight alone and survive. Many of his brothers were killed, a battle for the throne, a battle he won in the end,’ past memories collided against the present. No longer stood there a child-faced boy, instead, there was a darker and taller man bearing broad shoulders and a certain kindness in the smile. The facial features weren’t much to praise nor was it to appall. There was much emphasis on the golden jewelry; earrings, rings, and necklace, very reminiscent of Elendorian culture.

Besides the fellow carried a very humble and stunning lady, her skin radiated, pulling the moonlight to her fluttering eyes and smile. The couple was linked by a smiling little girl of the same complexion to the father and facial features of her mother; a beauty in her own rights.

“Excuse us,” said the man, “-didn’t expect to have guests on the balcony.”

“By all means, make nothing of it,” replied Igna. The couple took their time admiring the mysterious pale-gentleman.

“Hello sir,” a little tug fell across his shirt.

“How might I help, my lady?” he said amiably to the girl.

“You dropped this,” she held a handkerchief.

“Pardon me,” he took it off her hand, “-thank you very much for the kindness,” a scarlet-colored crystalized rose manifested within his open palm, “-a flower for another flower,” he said.

“Where are your manners, Sashi?” spoke her mother with a very gentle hold on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said uninterested in speaking, her mind fully honed on the jewel – a gleam circled the big pupils. From childish innocence to slightly cautious regard, Igna took his time in eying the father, who did so at his own discretion.

A heavy silence weighed, Igna took no issue at the matter and faced the orchard once again. The mother and daughter, especially the former, noticed the growing situation and excused herself. “-I have to ask.”

“There’s no need to shout,” returned Igna.

“Are you Staxius Haggard?”

He side-glanced, the reply had the man nervous, ‘-did I offend?’ wrote across the expression.

“No, sorry to say, I’m his nephew, Igna Haggard. You must be the current king of Easel Run Gard. Rare to see the inclusive nation send their royal family to partake in a banquet.”

“Prince of Arda, the representative of tonight’s meeting. Safe to say the fate of the Federation rests in our hands,” he followed Igna’s example and watched outward to the trees, “-Elendor’s spoke of the betrayal. Without their military to deter war ”

“What’s Easel Run Gard’s station, what is it thy nation wish to accomplish.”

“I happen to owe a lot, more than a lifetime could repay, to the Haggard Dynasty. I won’t run nor will I hide, joining the Federation and following Staxius Haggard was my goal from the time we met. I idolized your uncle, he was a great man, someone I had never seen before. With time I grew to understand the intellectual genius that founded the Federation. I sure don’t want it to crumble, my kingdom’s not on terms to send reinforcement or financial help. We’re nothing, our economy was but jumpstarted and thanks to investors from Raven’s,” he blinked knowingly, “-the Maicite’s mines are turning a good enough profit, my people can afford to eat and grow crops. The harsh climate isn’t kind – fishing’s the only stable industry... we have it rough.”

“Still is impressive you managed to control the kingdom long as thee did. Not exactly simple to rule in trying times, Arda’s had its fair share of demons.” In wake of their parle, butlers in tuxedos came to call on King Easel Run the III and Igna. Traversing the landscape of high-profile guests as much a hassle as walking into a minefield – the bad press associated with the Haggard’s was plenty for backroom slander. The turns were curt, and the hallways small and dark – and soon enough, they climbed an array of vexing spiral stairs.

“Guess it’s time to see what happens to the Federation,” said Yui with a platter of snacks.

“Don’t speak while you eat,” returned éclair, “-no matter the outcome, we have to focus on post-battle recovery. Phantom’s losing its edge and the Elon Dynasty’s grown silent. Haven’t heard anything from Alphia yet, the network we acquired isn’t doing much.”

“You mean the little spy I caught?”

“Yeah, her network isn’t worth the resources. I say just kill them and be done with it.”

“Not fair,” argued Yui, “-what of the lass you brought, Wendy or whatever was her name, she has a network too... don’t see much weight in her organization.”

“I guess it’s unfair,” he held his chin, “-how about this, we merge the two and see what happens.”

“See what happens?”

“Yes,” he cheered, the music gradually swayed the emotion of many. Where the leaders gathered felt desolate, a round table held the hovering body of a planet. Queen Gallienne sat at the head of the table, Igna was to her left after an empty seat. King Easel sat to her immediate right, with no ears nor additional presence, the tower was sealed tight. A holographic display broke the rounded planet, “-I, Queen Gallienne of Hidros, welcome thee, guests and friends, to the Federation’s council,” the imposing and courteous tone dropped, “-I say we get started.”

“Let’s start with the obvious, Elendor’s betrayed our alliance and has joined with the Empire,” said king Easel.

“Anything to add on the matter, prince of Arda?”

“Can we drop the formalities,” added Igna, “-the deliberations today will dictate how we move forward. I’ll be blunt, the Federation, ever since its inception by my uncle, great idea as it seemed, hasn’t accomplished much save break the bonds of potential allies.”

“How do you answer to that, King Easel?”

“Being part of a greater body has allowed my kingdom to flourish, what about you, Queen Gallienne?”

“I side with Igna on this,” her tone wavered, “-the years aren’t so good on me. I admit to having lost the sharpness I had when I was in my prime, the Federation has grown into a liability,” she said, “-if a party collapses, the others will follow,” she looked to Igna, “-Any thoughts?”

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