The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 180: The Boy who Cried

The subtle atmosphere changed; the weather altered. From somber, the clouds intensified in color, lightning and thunder followed. The winds rattled the broken windows, everything around Krigi of old shifted – a loud resonating pulse went throughout the continent. Though barely present, the vibration continued for a few minutes. Animals all-round sensed the looming danger to which instinct took over and all in the vicinity ran.

In the middle of all the brewing chaos, the will of a single man. One who witnessed the death and torture of the one he loved: a premonition, a dream, an illusion, none was the wiser. All around, dense mana, enough to put anyone into a coma, surrounded him. ‘IT BURNS,’ screams and yelled, the pain in his voice – a demon unleashed. Curses and powers conflicted with one another, ‘is this the day I’ve dreaded for so long,’ agony and pain, all shot back and forth. The ears turned red then exploded, the finger-tips opened with blood gushing out.

‘DAMN YOU, DEATH REAPER’S CURSE, DAMN YOU,’ the eyes now bloodshot burnt, darkness, the five primary senses dulled. History repeated itself, on the day he fought with Sophie; the god-slayer was the one responsible. This time, involuntarily, the moment Staxius absorbed the other’s curse, the process began again. No mana-link, nothing was there to stop it, one by one, as if adding cement onto a coffin – the harder it grew to get loose. By the second, the grave got deeper and deeper, the consciousness began to fail.

“Quietus,” a single spell came to mind – one unknown, one that he dreamed long ago, one that the Death Reaper used. The spell that had the possibility to wipe out an entire planet. Trapped behind the same window, Staxius cast said spell. The wall never broke, instead, all the power focused inwards. As if a mirror, all the attempts were fired back towards his soul.

‘This can’t be real,’ part of the face both in the real and fantasy world burnt. A reflection, Staxius stood before himself. The real one went into a self-destructing rampage, the ground around shattered, the rubbles and buildings broke. It all formed around as if a tornado, Staxius became the eye. Nothing could be done; consciousness and reality were locked. ‘How did this happen,’ flash images of Eira and Shanna dying ailed the mind, he had enough.

“Suppose someone who was born weak but turned strong. Suppose someone who never really cared about people grew emotions and eventually fell in love. Suppose someone who never had any clear goal nor dedication towards a craft became passionate. Suppose that someone got it all given without much effort and much help. What would happen if all that was on the verge of being taken away, all the hours of bliss, all the hours of having fun? Suppose all that was an illusion, what would happen then. Revoking all that was given; the return back to norm and boredom- how would that someone react?” a voice spoke, it went back and forth. The conscience traveled into a white room. Trapped inside a glass-cage, a voice spoke.

Unable to respond, Staxius watched close as said voice went back and forth.

.....

“How would you feel,” no chance to react, the figure slammed itself onto the glass, “-tell me, how would you feel?” it watched, the eyes devoid of emotions. All he got was silence, “-don’t be shy,” it urged, “what would you do?” the eyes locked, at that moment, everything became clear.

“You’re me...” Staxius spoke, the one outside continued to bang onto said prison.

“WRONG,” it laughed and jumped around, “-I’m not a weakling,” the tone suddenly cold and menacing. *Snap,* a mirror conjured, “-take a look,” he stood behind and peaked above the frame, only the eye was visible, he acted shy.

“That’s not me,” he fell back, “-that can’t be...” what laid in the reflection was a child. A boy with nothing in his eyes, a boy that hated everything in life. A boy who wanted to see people suffer and die; one hopeless and weak. “-I’m n-not that child a-anymore,” the back hit the wall, no longer could the feet permit him from running away.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha,” the figure laughed, both had the same eyes, “-you are that child. Even now, you hold back, why don’t you unleash thy inner-thought. Why do we always have to act cold and stern, why do we always have to keep up appearances,” the voice distorted and separated into twelve different black figures. “WHY DO WE HAVE TO BE MISERABLE,” they spoke in tandem, the same ones who killed and tortured his family.

“C-CAN’T Y-YOU LET US FREE?” the emotions varied, one sobbed while the other laughed, the figures asked, the noise was deafening.

“J-JUST WHO A-ARE YOU PEOPLE?” tears formed, the voice now of a child, the body transformed into one of a kid, Staxius stared up, “-WHY ME,” he screamed and curled into a ball.

“Why do we have to suffer,” the same question repeated.

“Go away...”

“Why do we have to suffer,” they banged on the wall. “Just leave me alone...” the eyes closed but the cries and questions never left.

‘What is happening to me, I did nothing wrong. I don’t know the reason; I don’t know why... I’m tired.’ The extent of the damage outside grew, the tornado intensified, all were lifted in his wake, thunder and lightning set fires which were extinguished by a downpour.

“Hey vampire,” a voice whispered, “-are you still alive?”

Nothing, complete silence, the boy hid, ‘-the outside is scary, I want to curl up and hide for all eternity. I was never strong, along the way, my mind changed – foolishness overthrew reality. Every time the real battle counted, I lost, I’m no heir to the god of death, I’m still that kid who ran away from his mother because of his shortcomings. A talented sister who always excelled at everything, I ran because I hated being near her. Everything I ever did was surpassed in less than a day by her. Talentless and normal, that’s who I truly am, a weakling who hides behind a fa?ade of being competent. I’m not worthy of all the things I was bestowed with, there must have been a mistake. I’m still that same old pathetic kid, nothing ever changes...’

“WAKE UP,” teeth sunk deep.

“OUCH,” from curled he jumped out of anger.

“Stop with the self-pity, we don’t have time to sort out your feelings. Look outside, look through the people before you, try and see what is real. I’m Adete, the manifestation of the vampire clan’s power – the initiation has now commenced. Unleash everything at once – Staxius, you have a long battle to fight. The world outside is being destroyed, if something isn’t done, Dorchester will become a piece of memory in the next few hours. But don’t worry, if it ever becomes dangerous, I’ll erase your consciousness, the body will stay alive but you will die. Fight or give, the choice is now, earn the powers given, earn the curses, EARN AND MAKE ALL YOUR OWN.”

*Sniff,* “thanks Adete,” the boy who cried changed, “-I’m no longer that kid.”

“Someone has grown guts,” the figures stood menacingly, “nevertheless, you’ll never be the chosen one. Fake heir of the god of death, this power belongs the Scifer and not YOU.”

“I know,” a smile portraited itself, “-there was a reason I ran. There was a reason I did all those things,” the childish body began to grow, “-it’s because I’m WEAK,” a black and white light dazzled the whole area.

“Fight as hard as you want, you’ll never defeat the true HEIR,” they threatened. In his palm, a sword, it slashed through everything. The glass wall cracked; the white room vanished. An army of beasts stood around in the endless nothingness, swing after swing, with a smile on the face, Staxius fought relentlessly – curses after curses, all that was unknown became known, all that was weak and feeble, destroyed. Only those worthy of being part of the vessel were allowed to remain.

The tornado grew immense, the tunnel could be seen from miles on end. They who stared towards Dorchester saw it that day, they saw what the end of the world would be like.

“The last barrier,” the wall cracked, consciousness returned to the rampaging body. “CALM DOWN,” the hands struggled to move, using what remaining strength it had, *Mana cancellation,* a single clap followed by a bolt of black-lightning. The energy charged up inside the tornado. A white light later, the threat that loomed subsided.

‘I did it,’ he fell, ‘-I fought off my insecurities and fear,’ with the face burnt and skull exposed – though it didn’t show, he smiled. The death-element kicked in, the eyes opened to see him holding onto a sword for dear life. “Daemonum Gladio,” he whispered, the blade turned to dust. ‘Thank you,’ he laid on the muddy and wet ground. The unforgiving weather turned to light and innocent showers.

“A job well done,” Adete hovered, Staxius’s body healed.

“Why does everything look so weird,” what he saw was far beyond normal.

“Congratulations,” the girl cheered and applauded.

‘Why is she so happy?” confused, he looked around till amidst the debris, a broken mirror. The hands reached out, “who’s that?” the mirror fell and shattered.

“Don’t look at me,” Adete refused to take responsibility. What he saw through that mirror was a fading reflection of a new man. White hair, pale skin, both eyes red, symbols all over the body, “-my body changed...” A new body formed out of necessity, the death-element and all-seeing eyes combined at last. The previous body was too weak to handle all the changes, thus the outburst and self-destruction. It had grown out of control, everything toppled-over; the body fought against the consciousness. The powers fought against its master; the reasons for what acted as the catalyst remained unknown.

‘I feel lighter and stronger, there’s no heavy burden on my body. Carrying all those curses before made it difficult to focus at times,’ the hands clenched from open palm to fist a bit before he focused the attention onto his feet.

“I don’t feel as skinny as before,’ the shirt lifted revealing an eight-pack, muscles all around the body had materialized out of nowhere. From being skinny to now well-muscled, Staxius could not but smile.

“Before you fall into the realm of narcissism,” Adete interrupted, “-there something you need to know.” His eyes focused on her, “listen,” she spoke in a serious voice, “- as you can see, the body has evolved into one more reliable than the previous vessel. This is the work of your powers becoming one, the dream you had was a test. One that the will of the death element and the all-seeing eyes performed. It might sound cheesy, but they did test the one who would inherit all the stuff that is to come. Don’t get me wrong, the world is ever-changing; with this new body comes more pain than before. Those muscles aren’t just for show, they are there to shoulder the weight of the future. In no way does it make you invincible, no my friend, there are still monsters who can do anything you can but better. As usual, there’s no good nor wrong. Become what you want to become, make use of the power for they’ve accepted thee.”

“Thank you Adete,” the voice casual, he held out a hand to which she landed, “-if it wasn’t for you back there, I’d have given up,” not knowing what to do, he kissed her on the head.

“No worries, but do be careful next time, I won’t always be around,” she smiled.

“Well, even if you disappear, the memories I have will never vanish, it’s a promise,” she sat on his shoulder.

The rain felt like gentle dew onto his skin and body, with each passing second, the mud and filth of the uncertain past were washed. On that day, in the place where he grew up as if by fate, Staxius transformed and managed to let off the feeble boy who resided within the heart.

“The boy who cried...”