The Wielder of Death Magic

In a fight against the coming ravage, scholars put up a strong front and decided to boycott the universities if her Majesty tried to intervene in their work. A boycott would be disastrous since most of the power in running houses and machines came from magic. The barrier would suffer as well, thus, the University was exempted. A strong disgusting wind of change with the Noble Faction’s backing blew.

In that eventuality, Staxius set a plan in motion very, very long ago. Arda’s funds, without it, none could do anything. Coffers neared being empty, the payment for land was refunded. 300,000 gold in his personal account allowed to pull some strings. Going up against a drying coffer, taxes became the only viable option. Those poor and weak were thrown out the capital by orders of the General. Once a place of peace turned to a place of misery, Queen Shanna fought surrounded by enemies. If it wasn’t for her powers as a demi-goddess, she’d have been killed ages ago. Prophecy made a promise to the king, a promise to keep Xula safe no matter what. Thus, the invasion of Kreston’s secret faction slowed to a snail’s pace. No amount of influence from the Noble faction could hinder her position. The council of Representatives, some turned coat whilst the Guild Leader’s kept strong. Tobira Barbara the dryad protecting the forest and Great Mother, Ayluin Orilana were neutral to the cause.

“The ground floor feels like a battlefield,” said a boy hidden atop a roof. Deserted without a soul, the breeze felt as if sobbing. Guards in white and blue armor made rounds around the streets. It wasn’t safe to be out. The first few who couldn’t pay the tax and refused to leave were killed without mercy. Beastmen killing beastmen, unity was naught but a dream.

“Move it, brother,” said a girl with a sigh, “-we need to deliver this letter to the king.” Inconspicuous as shadows, they bolted out the front gate and into the wild.

‘Why is this happening,’ drippings of water from the ceiling echoed at a monotonous pace. Eerie to the point of terror, the dimness caused many to shout unknowingly. Those who refused were taken to the dungeon, an unfortunate punishment as the Dungeon Keeper was a sadist. Every day, someone new would be taken in. The same scene played over and over again. They screamed and begged shackled by chains to be placed behind bars. The moment one arrived, another left in a body bag. The survivors were people who managed to endure the torture. Ripped fingers, burnt eyes, some had their stomach cut open whilst being conscious. Others had their genitalia removed, breasts thrown to the side, ‘-impurities,’ was what he referred the ladies. The Demi-humans were treated far worse than elves and others. Ears and tails cut off, the features that made them attractive was seen as a defect by the Dungeon Keeper. Girls, boys, mothers, fathers, he didn’t care. If a demi-human came in prison, the ears would be cut by ragged-edged knives.

‘How low is Arda going to fall,’ one of the first prisoners sat in a corner without many injuries. The general had ordered the keeper to not touch a single hair off his body. ‘King Staxius,’ he thought with eyes peering into the slight cut that gave in to the wild,’-come save us.’

.....

“Sergeant Kelfir,” the resounding sound of gates opening broke the day-dream.

“Elga,” he voiced as the battered body of a young man stared him. A demi-human, his disciple.

“I’m here,” he smiled to fall onto the muddy floor.

“Here’s a bandage,” smirked the Keeper who threw the cloth into the puddle of mud, “-better have the injuries cared, else he’ll die,” laughed maniacally, he rolled his baton against the iron-bars.

“Elga, Elga,” rushed over, “-are you ok?” pull so he’d lay on his lap, the boy seemed in severe pain.

“I-I’m f-fine,” he replied with gritted teeth and one eye shut, “-it’s g-good to see you.” One of his ears was cut, blood flowed uncontrollably. “You always look so handsome, don’t y-you m-master,” he held out a hand to Kelfir’s face. “I c-can’t feel thy cheeks,” tears flowed, the hand was crushed by a boulder. “I made sure that lady Kelfir was taken out of the capital.”

“Elga...?” the body grew twice as heavy, the breathing stopped.

“Elga...?” shaking to touch the disciple’s face, “-a-are y-you o-ok?” no response, reality soon caught with the illusional haven Kelfir had made inside his mind. No screams nor lashing out, the head rested against his companion’s chest. Tears didn’t flow, hands intertwined with Elga’s, he gave a short prayer, one wishing to the soul’s safe passage into Elysium.

The few who remained yearned for a savior, a hero to come and fight their troubles. All prayed for a better day, though, hope would not arrive soon. Many lives were lost, many were killed in the fake name of justice. An example of those who didn’t comply, burnt to the stakes, and more, the people suffered from the nobles laughing.

“Majesty,” knocked the door softly, “-I’m here with the papers you requested.” No response came, “-majesty, I’m coming in,” the door opened to a room with chairs, a table, and a fireplace. *Storage,* was written in bold on a door leading to the left. Straight, next to the brick-fireplace, a door led further inside. *Laboratory,* was written above the door frame.

*Click,* opened, the Laboratory was twice as big as the prior rooms combined. Stretched, it contained an assembly line for robots Balthazar had been experimenting with. Paper, potions, and more were littered around on various tables and chairs. The differing compartments were divided by partitions containing glass. Staxius remained in the one filled with test-tubes and more; *Alchemy.*

“Serene,” he called the moment the door opened, “-where’s the coffee?”

“Here,” she gently walked over to place the cup on a metal cabinet, “-are you ok?” he had remained here for two weeks straight.

“Yeah,” spun around, “-I did leave to visit Lizzie every night, didn’t I?” walked over to take the coffee, “-what about you, any news on the messenger?”

“Yes,” her eyes befell what seemed to be blood on his work-desk, “-we got a report that he arrived about 3 days ago. He’s convincing the village as we speak. They’re very much adamant that the Queen has yet to forsake them.”

“It’s a false hope, don’t worry,” sipped, the warmth helped in soothing the body. Eira went missing two weeks ago, though he wanted to fly out to Mont Blanc, the situation grew more complicated. Patience was key in winning this battle.

“Don’t mind my asking,” she walked over to the desk, “-what have you been researching?”

Leaned against the cabinet with legs cross, “-the curse of sunlight,” he replied.

“Are you seriously trying to nullify the curse of the low-born?” she turned with a frown of dismissal.

“Yeah, it’s not just that. Researching their blood gave me more insight into the nature of vampires. As for the cure,” he pointed to a shelf directly above, “-it’s complete. I finished it a few days ago, I’m testing the formula – I still need to transfer it to a scroll.”

Crinkling her forehead in doubt, “-care to elaborate?” her eyes narrowed.

“How can I put in is simpler terms,” gulping the beverage, “-here’s the basic idea. I took blood samples from many breeds of nightwalkers. From there on, I classified it on the reactivity to sunlight. I did have to make a few trips to Hidros since the sun doesn’t show up here, what I found was very interesting. The sun’s ray isn’t compromised of light, there’s also a minute amount of mana. One that directly affects the Vampiric factor. Once I figured that out, it was simple to find a way to mutate the factor, an evolution to the blood. I had to use a lot of mana, but it’s complete. I used a combination of pure-blooded vampires to attain the cure. Low-breeds aren’t given the protection, their blood isn’t potent enough. That’s why I’m reluctant to directly inject the resistance factor. It might bring other issues – we don’t want to mess with genetics now. The simple solution, have it as mana. That way, there’s almost no risk and the mana will change the user from inside out.”

“Eh, yeah,” she paused with a drowsy face, “-basically, you changed the cure to a spell.”

“I guess,” sighed, “-what of Arda, receive any news?”

“Arda...” face turned for the worse,”-in the past two weeks, the capital is almost unrecognizable. My many sources have told me that we have as much as one year till it’s unsavable.”

“Any more?” sat, the work resumed.

“No, information is scarce. A complete blackout. Last I heard was that people inside the capital were ousted for not being able to pay.”

“Is that so,” said nonchalantly, “-I guess funds are running low. Not to mention that the arms were taken out of Arda.”

“How? Didn’t you order it to be taken to Roth, we did leave without saying goodbye.”

“I had the old-sage use a temporary portal and send the arms. We left abruptly,” glanced over the shoulder, “-still, it doesn’t mean that I wasn’t prepared. I changed the policies a few weeks in advance so as the kingdom would run out of money without my intervention. I hope that Xula noticed the loophole I left. It should buy her for more than a few months.”

“How shady are you?” she nervously laughed.

“You can never be too careful,” the face returned to the papers, “-I suppose I had a feeling that something would go amiss. There were changes in the capital and how the people reacted.”

“In no way did you predict such a turn of events,” her eyes rolled skeptically.

“I didn’t predict the future. Paranoia I suppose, a gut feeling. Even if nothing happened, it was set-up to allow a quick fix later on. The trap of low-funds is sprung; and if what you say about the people being ousted is true. Pushing harder on the people will result in discontent; the more they grow unhappy, the better the chances of civil war. Don’t forget, Ardanians are well-versed in magic, almost all the inhabitants know how to utilize mana.”

“Yeah, no need to say that twice. Nightwalkers have suffered a few losses with that mob-mentality.”

“Well,” paused, “-have Gabrielle come to the office in two hours, I need to discuss the matter going forth.”

“As you wish,” Serene exited with a bow.

‘How quaint,’ he stopped moving, ‘-I don’t feel anything. I use to have a little emotion to guide my decision. Now, even the news of the people being maltreated doesn’t faze me. Supposed the emotionless nature is settling farther than I think. Losing my heart in this war might be good compensation.’