The Wielder of Death Magic

Date: 31st December X100, a year reached the end. The days continued; memories amassed slowly made up the lost past.

‘Security sure is here.’ Night-shift began, people from all over the continent came. The special event, Xius’s concert. It garnered media attention as well as the public, such a staple of the entertainment business. The story of Emi Muko, the mal-treated girl of Alphia touched the hearts of many. Her stain heavy past all but fueled the fans rallying around Xius. A group of misfits joined as one to conquer the stages – their manager was also praised. Apexi was sponsored on behalf of Phantom. The line-up consisted of S-Kiss, H Jewel, Xius, First Romance, and a solo artist named Selphine. They were the pride of singers and artists around the continent. Through those idols on stage could the younger generation dream. ‘Look at them working hard,’ thought he managing two stations effortlessly. Tonight was the last, and the staff knew. Chef Joe’s energetic persona amplified beyond belief.

“GO ON, COOK!” added he slapping Igna’s back.

“Y-yes,” the shock took his breath away, “-where’s lady Yuki?”

“Went to visit mother nature. Hey, get to cooking, we’re near the finish line,” a flip and the aroma of meat permeated across the queue.

“Ingredients have been used. All who paid, please wait and the rest, I’m afraid the restaurant is closed.”

.....

“Already?” fired Igna.

“Yeah,” said she, “-the supplier is running low. It’s not only us who’ve been cooking.”

“I suppose,” the stalls at the center were proof enough.

“How’re the orders going?” came a refreshed Yuki, “-Jola?”

“It’s complete, ma’am, we’ve done it. Loron sold-out its stock.”

Time showed 22:30, the concert began an hour ago. Far as it seemed the singing and music made way to where they stood. Customers left holding smiles rumbling stomachs. ‘The Winter Festival is reaching the end.’ Wiping his forehead, a visit to the washroom was in order. ‘-Why are they moving so suspiciously?’ wondered he grinning at Emma and Emmy. They’d most obviously whispered behind his back. ‘What are they up to?’ and so, the tiredness of a week’s work caught up to him. The experience working for so long and dealing with so many customers brightened his horizon. A line beyond which laid an unexplored land of taste.

“Congratulations!” sparkles flung across the room, a banner rolled from the ceiling, Igona flung confetti awkwardly, Emma and Emmy tried hard at opening a bottle of champagne whilst Joe facepalmed at Igona’s attempts. Jola held another banner upon which Lady Yuki nearly tripped and fell.

“What’s this about?” the face felt fresh by the nightly wind.

“It’s a farewell party,” said Emmy, “-you’ve completed your training at Loron.”

“I see,” he bowed, “-thank you all for teaching me. I’ve gotten more experience and matured under your tutelage. I’m deeply grateful for the opportunity, lady Yuki, Chef Joe, Emma, Emmy, Igona, and manager Jola, thank you again.”

“Don’t sweat it,” they hurdled.

“As I’ve said before,” smiled lady Yuki, “-Loron will always have a vacancy for you, my prodigy.”

“Tis as she says,” came a rougher voice, “-I guess it wouldn’t hurt having you around.”

“Look, sister, Chef Igona has a soft heart for Igna,” teased Emmy.

“Yes, sister, he’s very much a kindhearted person,” added Emma.

“Shut it you two,” he gritted, “-whatever.”

“You’ve gone and done it now,” laughed Joe followed by the others. A pleasant atmosphere of belonging warmed his heart. The teary-eyed smiles seemed like diamonds falling onto the carpeted floor. None held ill-will, to think it was only a few months ago the journey started. A table was soon garnered with celebratory snacks and drinks. Igna spent most of the time chatting about recipes and the plausibility of Dungeon Cooking. Emma and Emmy entertained and provided very crucial information on what he sought after.

It didn’t cross his attention yet, lady Yuki vanished from his entourage. ‘Where’s she?’ he scanned around softly holding a glass of wine.

“Igna,” at tap on the back startled him.

“Please, don’t do that again,” said he bearing wine-stains on the dirtied shirt.

“Shut up,” said Lady Yuki, “-here, this is a parting gift from us.”

“You can’t be serious, I can’t accept this,” the body reclined from her gesturing hands.

“Take it,” she pushed it against his chest, “-tis to commemorate you being here. Wherever you go now, the spirit of Loron will stay by thy side.” An apron designed by the staff had their signatures embroidered. Adding to it – a bandana. “T-thank you,” a droplet escaped – “-it means a lot,” he dug into his shoulder and buried the tear against the shirt, “-I appreciate it.”

“Well then,” said she, “-go enjoy the festival, tis my test.”

“Will do, teacher.” The backpack felt light, he waved at the silhouettes of his multiple teachers. The more steps in-between, the farther they went – still, until he couldn’t see, the arms carried on waving.

“I have readied the Bike, please head to this location.”

“Thanks, éclair,” the path soon led to the melodic concert. Raw energy moved in waves, the crowd was massive and the people all sang. The performers played masterfully, the speakers screamed and the camera crew filmed. ‘This is awesome,’ taking a modest spot at the back, he sat upon a close stall and listened. The talent at display blew his mind. How could people be so good?

Time continued, song after song, time passed without his knowledge. The head swayed to the rhythm and soon, the crowd faded into silence. The next performer, Xius. Heavy footsteps entered; a solitary man glared about with guitar in hand. Another followed holding a bass, then came the drummer, and lastly, the singer. No words exchanged, nothing said, breathing cut. A heavy screech nearly ruptured eardrums, the guitar was just plugged in. *thud, thud, thud, thud,* the downstroke of power chords, slow and painful, slow and somber, slow and menacing, to lastly, slow in pace. The fingers darted around the fretboard, the guitar shrieked with distortion, the drummer joined, the bass dropped an ever more somber bassline to build into a pent-up feeling of reckoning, *clash,* the drummer halted the train, the singer hummed into lyrics accompanied by bass alone, Sugar dropped notes here and there, the drummer kept a monotonous build-up going, the pent-up frustration was here, the pitch rose to finally break into utter harmonic pleasure. The release came with headbanging and screams. Emi Muko’s singing wasn’t only melodic and beautiful, the same Eve-like character held another talent, the art of screaming. Her second persona would greatly be influenced by Sugar’s dark-style of playing as for Dei, she stood in the background as the Godfather, directing the symphony by stomach-turning vibrations.

‘This is why they’re so popular,’ thought he swallowed by the band, “-Xius is AWESOME!” What felt like five minutes was an hour, the screen displayed a giant clock – the crowd sang till it hit 00:00, whereby they screamed, “-HAPPY NEW YEARS!”

‘Time to head home.’ Just like that, a year came to a close. The dungeon expedition was rescheduled to be on the 2nd of January. Per notifications from the expedition master, the underground pathways shifted – the risk of it crashing forced many onto the hill.

‘I’m returning to the Academy tomorrow,’ dropped in bed, sleep carried onto the next day.

*Attention to all students: practical exams will be hosted on the 4th of January. Anyone outside the academy is to return immediately. The Coria expedition has been postponed indefinitely. Anyone who signed to partake will be compensated for the travel fees. No additional compensation will be given.*

‘What a great morning text to wake up too,’ yawned to a blurry sight, ‘-why’s my door opened?’ mild chatter came from downstairs. ‘Who can it be at this hour?’ he climbed the stairs to spot multiple shoes taken off. ‘-Visitors?’ time showed 10:00, ‘-must have overslept,’ he turned to the kitchen and began breakfast.

“Igna, come here,” came from the rest area.

“Coming,” two simply scrambled eggs sufficed, “-good morning mother.”

“Good morning, darling,” said she sat with three expensively dressed individuals.

“Auntie Courtney, you never said you had a son?”

“Please, explain this to us, we’re quite confused.”

“I want food.”

“Calm it you three,” she turned with a disastrous expression, ‘-come here,’ said it, ‘come save it,’ it begged. “I’d like to meet my son, Igna Haggard.”

“Igna Haggard?” paused a handsome blonde hair man, “-how is it possible you have a son?”

“Hello,” said he, “-I’m Igna Haggard, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the eyes could but wander upon a melancholic lady bearing silvery-white hair. Her handsome face did make for many questions.

“Well then, I’ll let you introduce oneself,” she slipped not before winking at his distress.

‘Really?’ puzzled at why she did so, ‘-smile, I guess.’

“Igna Haggard,” said the man, “-I apologize for the late introductions. I’m Julius Arnet Haggard,” he gave a firm handshake.

“My name is Lizzie Haggard,” curtsied the younger of the three.

“I’m Eira Haggard,” said the other, “-nice to meet you,” her voice didn’t fluctuate.

“Are you members of the Ardanian Royal family?” asked he by éclair’s assistant. The latter brought up information that could perhaps help the conversation.

“Yes, I’m quite peculiar to hear you’re the son of our aunt. I still don’t believe so, are you a scammer?” the narrowed gaze right into the soul.

“No, god forbid,” he refused, “-tis lady mother that brought up the subject. I have no memories of my past – I only awoke a year ago. Why are you here?”

“We come to the capital each year to wish happy new year’s,” replied the young princess, “-aunt Courtney is sometimes lonely without us.”

“Hold on there,” said she stumbling into the rest area, “-I’m not lonely,” came through the multiple boxes stacked on one another.

“Let me help you,” offered Igna, presents stacked onto the low tables.

“Do you know how hard it is to shop for you?” her complaintive tone felt natural.

“Auntie, please,” interjected Eira, “-drop the phrase and answer Julius’s question already.”

“Is that really a tone you should address me with?” her motherly glare stopped Eira’s words, “-considering what you’ve done,” the threat enough had her lower the insolent gaze. “As for the question, Igna here is my son. We’re related by blood for he’s also directly tied to my brother.”

“How come?” wondered Julius, “-I don’t see the white hair.”

“You won’t,” she smiled, “-the inheritance is of Vampire-Blood. Igna’s a nightwalker, a noble one, I’d guess around Duke ranked?”

“He’s that pure-blooded?”

“It’s possible,” added Eira, “-Aunt Courtney is our father’s twin sister.”

“Then it’s settled,” her hands clasped in joy, “-Igna, meet your cousins.”

‘What am I supposed to do?’ the gaze fell onto him; ‘-I’m related to nobility. Didn’t she say not to get involved? Mother is the worst, I swear,’ looking for a way out, the redundant comment of Lizzie wanting food, “-highness,” he held a hand to Lizzie, “-would you like for me to bake some pastries?”

“Pastries?” she stared up, “-sure,” she held his hand and went to the kitchen.

“Lizzie?” paused Eira, “-is that really Lizzie, the shy girl who never opens to anyone?”

“Did she just take his hand?” empty blinks followed their movements.