The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 865: First Blood [3]

“Dear cousin, I apologize for the analog medium. Matters have grown hectic since éclair announced your parting from major affairs. I don’t much care for the drama between king and prime minister, long as the people aren’t in harm’s way. Serene and I have found a viable contact in Dorchester. Where money, drugs, and sex are involved, there lies a way to make a deal. Our fight against the rebellion will depend on the talks. I do miss the good old days of leaping in weapons first. I heard from Alta; Piers returned from the trip to Kreston. I couldn’t catch his report, nor did he even speak if I remember. There’s much going on – you know well as I do, the way the war ends is if either you or she dies. Anyhow, take care, cousin. The future is in our hands, the Haggards will prevail, no questions. Tis what we do.” signed Julius Arnet Haggard.

The note laid pinched between Igna’s index and middle fingers vaguely in assortment to resemble a cigar. The air around him felt cold to the skin, the breeze gentle, and the sky, empty. He sat on a lonesome hilltop cupped into the groves called parks, at different intervals around Rotherham. The well-ordained town sparked and cried a thousand flames – hovering airships, advertisements, brand names, and models – Lizzie was spotted in a very stern pose in portrait advertising clothes for Lum.

Besides was the cordial Vanesa, her feet swayed and her arms cradled a bucket of fried chicken – every bite left oil smears, a sight not much appetizing, as Igna silently avoided her thoughtful grasp upon the townscape.

‘A moment of reflection,’ he pondered, ‘-Patek is involved and she sent a trusted ally to deal with them. How stupid can she be?’ arms crossed in a toothache pose, he watched the street, two lanes, one of white and the other red passing one another. The sheer number of vehicles was a marvel, especially in a relatively arduous economy. ‘-More I think, the less I understand. I don’t want to take into account emotions – there lives plenty of organizations and businesses. Holding all the aces is impossible – long are the days gone when I’d always have the upper hand via a simple phone call. The agencies, the government agencies – latter established well before I took claim. What is a man to do?’ he watched, waiting for the phone to ring.

*Incoming call,* and it did at dusk, “-Igna,” he answered.

“Afternoon, majesty. I’ve received the autopsy report. Shall I send it via the channels or would you prefer-”

“Hold it, I’ll be there in a bit,” the cog crackled, rusted splinters blocking the wheels of intrigue snapped. Bit by bit, the experience of scouring information, piecing together snippets of information, the lost chessboard manifested, the pieces moved anew, ‘-I’d forgotten the way,’ a pleasant grin carved the lightly sealed mouth. ‘-I’m getting old,’ doors to the car shut, Vanesa followed into the passenger seat, her bucket laid empty, the oily fingers hovered centimeter from the lavish interior. Igna gasped at what she’d do. Surprise, she conjured a spell and completely cleaned her arms, “-what?” she matched his antsy leer.

.....

“Nothing.”

A half-an-hour drive later, the car rolled into the medical district, Central Rotherham Hospital, wrote in the distance – a massively white-shaped block of concrete broke the harmony of the neighboring buildings. Vehicles to and fro matched sirens, the scene very hectic regardless of day and night.

“Right, we’re here,” he said shutting off the engine, “-Vanesa?” a glance showed a lass in the world of dreams, her cheeks plastered against the fogged window, “-wake up,” he tapped, she snored and coughed, “-pops, let me sleep,” said a yawn.

“Fine,” the doors locked – he looked upward, past the building and to the sky, memories of the demon attack hadn’t fully digested. Darker the cloud, the more uneasy grew the atmosphere. Fortunately, the interface read, ‘-the potential of rain, 80%’ which took the mystic away. A battle across corridors, long hallways, open-air, lines of patients – after many signs he arrived at the morgue. Large, dark, and gloomy, he shuffled till a man dressed in common attire covered by a lab coat, “-Majesty,” he hailed.

“Doctor,” replied Igna stopping at the tall man’s side – a kind expression, well-kept hair, cleanshaven facial hair, and a posture that read confidence.

“It’s an honor,” he swooned, “-I’ve heard and read so much about you, majesty. Seeing you in person, it’s... it’s a life-changing experience.”

Igna saved but kept a neutrally amiable regard, “-cause of death,” before long, the doctor got about to the situation, “-no injuries on her body – the trauma to the head was postmortem. Cause of death is this,” he handed a note, “-a drug overdose. I’m not familiar with the composition, it’s rare, I sent a sample to the lab – results should be out in 24 hours. I did my best to mend the wounds and have her face presentable.”

“Good job,” said Igna stepping into the room – the light did nothing to add color; a greyscale washed the area woefully. Add the slow trickling of rain and a painfully beautiful piano piece and voila, a scene fit for cinema, so went across Igna’s mind. Driving past billboards and advertisements greatly affected the psychic. Pulling the white sheet showed Laura in a better state than when she was before. The face reconstructed, the sunken eyes, pale skin, and blueish lips hit home, she was dead. In that instant, Igna ran his fingers through her hand and smiled, memories of Alicia Raze returned in small increments. A subdued rage erupted from within, the chest and back of his eyes felt hot to the exhale.

“Majesty?” inquired the doctor, “-is something the matter?”

“No,” he covered her face, turned, and left.

The car door slammed, Vanesa’s dream shattered, “-what!” she cried and wiped her mouth, “-pops, silence...”

“Sorry,” the engine toggled, “-Yui, where’s Lady Elvira?”

“At her estate, why?”

“Tell her I’m coming,” anger glazed his regard, “-if anyone gets in my way, they’ll die.”

The past was something easily shaken, the pain of losing Chef Leko and Alicia was reinforced by Lauru’s death. A horrified Yui relayed the message – the manor lit suddenly. Security drew their weapons at the tall gates.

Headlights pulled onto the premises, the armed guards squinted and allowed access. Elvira sat with legs crossed before a large screen playing the news, a wine glass in hand and cigarette in the next, attendants were arms reach away. Engines roared into her property, it toggled from which Igna exited. Vanesa kept herself at his side – those foolish to so much glare fell on their faces.

“Don’t knock them out,” he said bearing a smile.

“Pops, where’s the anger gone?”

“Hidden behind a mask,” he said, “-scowling at someone heightens their guard. Now that I know why she died, there’s more my dear aunt choose to leave.” Security outside and inside differed by uniform and weapons – once at the front door, “-young master, lady Elvira’s said to postpone any meeting until further notice. I’m sorry you came all this way.”

“I see,” he returned a shocked expression, “-Vanesa, seems to me my dear aunt is playing hard to get,” he side-glanced and she clapped – those mounting defenses dropped, “-Yui, open the doors.”

“Master, I can’t, I’m underemployment for lady Elvira...”

“Is that so,” the channel swapped, “-éclair, sorry to burden you, a gate needs opening.”

“Understood,” returned a somewhat drowsy voice, “-midnight’s the best time to sneak into someone’s property,” he yawned, “-Yui, you should understand my master takes only yes as the answer, no if’s and but’s,” the reinforced slabs clicked, he pushed – the heavy frames flung inward, “-nice place,” he rummaged inside, the décor was much in alignment to a nightwalker’s gloomy crimson taste. Furniture and portraits were very Victorian style, the stairs carried much in way of character, gothic railings, subliminal mentions to death, an inside joke as immortals could but dream of the day where all ends. The maids hid their faces behind veils, none made attempts to stop, instead, they froze with hands at their waist in service.

“May thee guide to where my aunt waits?”

“Follow me, young master,” said one from the line of devout servants.

‘Nightwalkers,’ he examined, ‘-if their master is in danger, I can expect a massive battle to explode.’

“We’re not going to fight,” said the maid, “-our orders are to protect Lady Elvira from outsiders. Young master, thee bares the blood of the first progenitor, as such, we can’t disobey the orders of our true leader.”

“Long as I get my answers, I’ll be content,” she halted a thick oak door kept behind heavy curtains. He continued inside a big room; a line of shabbily dressed children laid to the side, their necks open and face filled with fear, a look opposite them showed Elvira sitting behind an oppressive desk. Her long-fingers wrapped the wine-glass seductively – the gluttonous mien laid on the children, “-Nephew,” she exhaled, “-was my warning not sufficient?”

“Oh, pardon,” he walked in front of the line, “-didn’t think my dear aunt would be partaking in wine tasting. I don’t care much for them,” he looked over the shoulder, “-seems fine to me.” A long pause carried till she took the hint and left the area, the children kept subdued smiles.

“What is it?” they stopped at a corridor wherein Elvira pulled curtains and watched the outside, “-surely, Igna, you didn’t barge here...”

“Autopsy report is back,” he said, “-Laura was killed from OD.”

“And, could this not have waited until tomorrow?”

“No, it couldn’t. Listen, Aunt, I apologize for my behavior earlier. You’re right, respect is due and I understand what I did was wrong.”

“But?”

“There’s no but, not this time,” he exhaled, “-words have only done so much. Laura was killed by an OD, how do the name Leko and Alicia ring?”

“Igna...”

“Don’t,” he rose a hand, “-I was powerless before, you said they’d be punished. Sadly, I’ve yet to see the results, Patek’s walk the continent freely, the underworld market is sullied – the godfathers have gone into hiding. I’m embarrassed,” he leaned, “-which is why I’m not opposed to taking the matter in my hands. Tell me,” he narrowed, “-you knew Laura was walking into a trap, she was bait, a powerful and lovely lady being sent to satisfy the lustful pleasures of that damned Patek. I know he killed Alicia and I’ve remained silent – trusting your judgment to be best. Tables have turned, aunt; if not for me, Phantom would be scraping the bottom of the barrel. We hold true power, we have what others wish, and tis, not weapons, tis Maicite – look at me,” he grabbed her hands, “-all I want is the truth, did you know?” she averted his gaze, “-auntie, tell me, did you know?”

“No,” she exhaled, “-I didn’t know the heir to Patek was the mediator. If I knew, I’d have sent a man instead. Leko and Alicia’s death have hung over our heads, guess what, they’re not the only ones who’ve died. Every week,” she broke his hold, “-every damn week there’s a funeral. Someone close to Phantom is killed in a gang attack – my wardrobes filled. Good men, family men, die on the street like dogs. You’re right, if not for you, Phantom would have long vanished... guess I’m grateful,” she tapped his chest twice, “-but you see, Igna, if not for me, this whole organization will amount to nothing. The fear our name holds is enough to deter entire kingdoms. Laura’s death did affect me, still, I don’t want to cause friction, not until the Alrosia embassy is settled. Hold your hand, nephew, I can’t believe I’m saying this to you,” she grabbed the back of his head and slammed the foreheads together, “-get a grip.”

“Understood,” he stepped away, “-if attacking them directly isn’t an option. I’ll figure another way. Hear me, aunt, they will pay for killing Laura, I’ll make damn sure the conglomerate knows who they’re messing with.”

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