The Wielder of Death Magic

“Correct, I have no interest in leading your team and your project,” she strained on yours, giving Igna a feeling of solitude and disappointment. By all means, the work done had been for sake of a bigger cause, for the chance to do good for those who had treated him so well. Unwilling to refute her claim, the elbows weighted heavily onto the chair, he pushed and exhaled, the posture lowered minutely.

“Aunt Elvira,” he waved, toggling an interface in his phone, “-give me a few moments to go over Phantom’s reports.”

“Sure, take your time,” said she ordering a drink over the intercom, a muffled voice, barely audible, courteously answered her request.

‘Innovation, there must be an unfulfilled gap in the market. Phantom’s doing badly, appearances don’t reflect the truth. To think, she’s handled such a tedious affair without so much as breaking a sweat or showing weakness. I’m impressed, very impressed,’ lines upon lines flowed, he read, catching specific details – secret military projects, advancement in the underground facility, ‘-the biggest source of income is guns trade. The open market freely allows the exchange, add the Cobalt Unit, and we’re in a battle of 70-30 in our favor. Since the technology we used is classified, many kingdoms wish not to do business – well, since we were a mighty military force, it didn’t matter, we could be secretive and force our will upon the nations. The table’s turned, the Cobalt Unit’s more open to sharing their information, selling their ships, and leasing their researchers to aid other countries. Looks like the drug trade was able to sustain us for a few months, the cartel’s making a fair share – most of which is laundered and granted to the Dark-Guild, led by lord Elon. Phantom’s turn-down offers for a bigger share in exchange for the Elon Dynasty’s backing, a double-edge idea. Relations between us are strained, the root of the problem, let’s see,’ he scanned, carefully going over the lines, ‘-Elendor.’

“Igna,” called from the side, “-why not take a break for today?” suggested lady Courtney, “-maul the idea over in thy own time. Lady Elvira and I have a few meetings to attend too,” she kindly caressed his cheeks, “-Phantom isn’t the only one who is trouble – check-in with Alta, Arda’s not doing so great either,” the words timidly fell on his ears, a sense of shame washed upon her figure, the proud and strong mother he’d once idolized and respected was but a shell of her former self. A few minutes elapsed, his mother and aunt left down the elevator.

“Igna?” called Fenrir, “-are you fine?” she entered the now vacant office.

.....

“I don’t know what to think,” he swapped seat to Courtney’s couch, “-my selfishness to not get involved might have done worse than good. Everything hangs in the balance, one wrong move, and tis finished.”

“I went over the history – Lizzie died and was reincarnated. She was a brat, a lovely brat, I remember her reserved smile when we brought food, gave her outfits, and told her to live her best life. Her past had to ruin the peaceful life she was to live,” she dropped onto a seat – a buzz said, “-drinks?”

“Come in.”

Warmly brewed tea was served, the retainer, smart in outfit and polite in his tone, nodded at the duo then left. “-This world truly is amazing,” she ambled out the office, made way across the corridor, slid the side panel into a brightly lit nightfall. “Pretty,” her hair swayed in the breeze, “-where are we?”

“Rotherham,” he explained, “-looks awesome, doesn’t it.”

“Tell me, Igna, what’s the problem, want to talk about it?” she kindly tilted her head and sipped, “-I’m here to listen if you want to.”

“I don’t know really,” he sipped, “-the fact is, we’re in a tight situation. Normally, we’d have found a way to strongarm the heart of the problem – matters are so intensely woven tis impossible to unwind the yarn without it crumbling.”

“I don’t know much about business, nor do I care to learn,” her longing gaze firmed into the town, “-I was gone for who knows how long. People, buildings, I realized, with or without my intervention, the world ambled steadily onto a prosperous future. I mean, look at this place; from what I remember, it used to be a shithole for thugs, a forsaken land where even the shrewdest of noble dared not veer their heads. The foundation is strong,” added she with conviction, “-Igna, Staxius, whatever the name is, I know from my memories, the one I served, the one I adore, would have never built an empire on a weak foundation, he knows better than anyone else that to reach the top, the basics must be firmly be ingrained. Why worry about the alliances, why worry about things which are out of thy grasp,” she sipped, “-stop and look around, what stands before us is truly a feat deem of the utmost praise.”

Distant sirens clambered onto were they stood, the starlight sky couldn’t have been clearer, in a way, her words, a weird assortment of how she felt, sent shivers, ‘-she’s right,’ he leaned onto the railing, steam rose from the mug to be swept by the brusque wind, “-THAT’S IT!” an idea sparked, “-Fenrir, I need to visit the university. I’ll have éclair take thee home, is that fine?”

“S-sure?” she frowned, “-what sort of idea...”

“A secret,” he laughed, “-thank you for the pep-talk, it helped put things into perspective.”

‘Why was I drawn to follow what others set,’ he glided down the stairs, ‘-I thought of the problem from the wrong angle. If technology advances, the foundation, power, without it, no matter how strong a gun is, without bullet, the weapon shan’t fire. Maicite, the answer stared me blatantly. Who knew watching the wind blowing steam would spark inspiration,’ the ground floor jumped into the frame. *Calling éclair.*

“How may I serve, master?”

“Where are you?” he hurried out of the building, the suit jacket fluttered upon reaching outside, a strong gust slapped, nearly blowing the phone out of his hand.

“Supervising a few things, why, is something the matter?”

“Have someone escort Fenrir home, and get me in contact with Clarise from the Alchemist Sect. She’s in charge of the convergence engine, is she not?”

“Yes, her and Gate-Six. Master, what are you planning?”

“Something big,” he smirked.

“Clarise should be at the university, she’s a professor in Magiology. Should I send transportation?”

“I’ll take the bus, it’s yet to be curfew.”

“Understood, I shall call her and inform of the arrival, should I forward the call afterward?”

“Why not.”

Under the starry night, Igna joined into the local commute of students, teachers, and workers, patiently waiting for the bus. The topic of discussions, hard as he tried to not eavesdrop, transcribed onto his interface, ‘-efficient and scary,’ he wondered. ‘-There have been murders in the capital, politicians have gone missing mysteriously – those of the faction who opposed the crown,’ sat onto a silver-colored bench, cupped inside a shelter adjacent the bus turnout. Men differing outfits fit into differing clicks, a blatant sense of superiority rose from those in shirt and tie, whilst the casually dressed, fashionable to some extent, were viewed under the judgmental magnifying glass. Some lit cigarettes at the back, polite towards the commuters. A slow-moving bus, most fitting to be described as a rectangle on wheels, pulled into turnout – the panels crumbled.

“Excuse me, is this the bus for the University?” inquired a young man.

“Yeah,” replied the tired driver, “-come on in, kid.”

Window seat towards the back-portion of the moving rectangle, ‘-do I have change?’ the thought suddenly crossed. A scanner to the side, linked to a small interface, neatly showed a wireless payment, a touch of the phone cleared the bill. After many twists and turns, under the suddenly gloomy clouds – arrived a terminal.

Blue backdrop and golden colored letters told the prestige of the University. ‘-A more stuck up feeling,’ he walked into the campus, students and workers hurried out, whereby, he headed inward, ‘-the outfits clearly demonstrate the level of education, the better an establishment is, the more famous and prideful people get.’

*Incoming call, éclair.*

“Hello?”

“Hello, Clarise Reinhart speaking,” spoke on the other end, “-am I talking to Igna Haggard?”

“Correct, I do apologize for my selfish request.”

“I don’t mind it,” said a jovial mien, “-are you on campus?”

“Yes.”

“Head for the auditorium, it should be to the left of the main building, I’ll wait there.”

“Understood,” lamps lit the path, flies flew here and there; keeping to themselves most of the time, ‘-I wonder how it looks during the daytime,’ the distance closed, ‘-the clear sky turned cloudy, the Hidrosian weather, unpredictable as always. I’m sure if lightning cackled, the place would look like a demon lord’s lair.’ He wrapped around the building to where she directed, the walkway hurried into a darker area. The auditorium stood grandly with a domed roof, “-Young master Haggard?”

“Lady Clarise, a pleasure to make thy acquaintance again,” he smiled.

“You look younger than what I imagined,” she scanned through her rounded glasses, years took its toll onto her visage; memories were of a young girl, said lass stood before him as a woman, tall, mature, and prominent, “-follow me.”

“Do you not have questions?” he wondered.

“In due time, Igna, in due time.” The promenade went on a few minutes in complete silence, the main building soon lost into a small line of marked trees. Beyond laid white blocks, the laboratory on which, ‘Research Facility of Rotherham,’ wrote in bold black paint, “-éclair told me a few things,” she stopped shy of a gate, “-what’s the goal. Not to sound rude, I’d rather not have people who know not of the sacred quest for knowledge to trample over our sanctum.”

“I understand completely. I don’t have qualifications and the only reason we’ve talked is because of my butler. Tell me, Alchemist, if you doubt my intellect, why not ask a few questions.”

“Pretty bold,” she smirked, “-firstly, remove the lenses, only then are we to conduct a fair assessment.”

“As is wished,” the transparent tint dematerialized, “-as for the subject, let’s talk Magiology.” Questions fired in rapid succession; she made hypothetical problems on the fly. No amount of remembrance of notes would have passed her test; the faster the questions arrived, the sharper he replied until the last breath, “-Magiology was founded by my uncle, I ought to know a few things about the subject, don’t you think?”

“A few things?” she panted, “-you’re annoyingly entertaining. Good to have an able mind in our midst. So, care to explain the reason for the visit?”

“Before that, I have a question.”

“Go on?”

“About the samples of the monster curse plague, the vaccine, how’s it coming along. I’m sure I had the process written to perfection; does it not work?”

“We tested the samples and created the formula – it worked on animals, however, the refined mana needed for one dose is too expensive and time-consuming. The only viable way of production is direct extraction from a human, an act that goes against the global law of Manaion(Countless deaths have resulted from the research of Magiology, and the death of a young orphaned named Manaion created outrage, the penalty was riots. Humanitarian organizations around the world forced the leaders to act, hence, forbidding human testing). You’re the one behind the cure, I never realized.”

“I like to keep my identity hidden,” he laughed, “-about my visit, Maicite. I need to know if the ore can truly be deemed the future of the power industry. As the Alchemist Sect is bound to the organization, it would behoove thee to not have the information leaked.”

“A difficult task,” she said, “-we thought the same until the practical usage. The element grows unstable when exposed to an artificial source of mana, it comes around to one thing, living beings.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”