The Wielder of Death Magic

“Igna,” returned a featureless oval shape – there laid nothing upon where Gophy’s expression would rest, nothing. A simple dark tone veiled an echo of her voice. The fleeting moment, ‘-don’t tell me,’ a similarly expressionless mien cemented, the arms crossed and the stance harshened. “-Are you leaving?”

“Yeah,” the voice turned from surround to single file as such to make a relatable discussion, “-I’m leaving.”

“Am I talking to Gophy or her shadow?”

“No, you’re talking to me,” she said, “-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, “-the symbol of Chaos’ been bestowed upon my palm. Gophy, I don’t understand why?”

“Feeling of rejection, the feeling of being alone despite belonging to a crowd. I may seem dignified and honest, but my heart inside doesn’t share said feeling. Lilith speaks of how you two shared intimate nights. Miira bragged about how she got you wonderfully flustered. I seek not for such trivial things – the thought, the connection, tis said feeling of belonging that I yearn. The only reason why I joined Staxius is that he reminded me of my long-lost lover, my Romeo. You can’t imagine the satisfaction he granted, I was taken to Elysium and back. No other could love me like he does, no other. I wouldn’t wish to cross thy path. Such is the reason why I surrendered my symbol. I don’t need the title and power of a high-tier goddess, I’m done being a feared entity. The little girl inside me wishes to start, to be needed, and to be tended to.”

.....

“No amount of convincing is going to shake the resolve,” he exhaled, “-giving thy symbol was word enough. Before parting, allow me to express my innermost thoughts. I should at least speak my mind, yes?”

“Go ahead,” the waves crashed against an invisible barrier. Slow turning of the massive body of water, the sense of nothingness under their feet, the feeling of grandness atop and the palpable impression of limbo, no other place seemed fitting, no other place matched the irrefutable climax, “-Gophy, I don’t know what impression was left and I won’t ask how or why it happened. Having a realm at one’s own whim, looking at it, feels boring. Your leaving the position of high-tier goddess saddens me, more importantly, it saddens me greatly that it had to be in such a manner. This symbol means nothing, what I needed is you, it’s always been you. Whenever I went into battle, I felt at ease knowing you were there, watching. I know when thee’d sneak peeks; that’s why I always acted overly dramatic during those moments. I thought of us as something more than a friend, transcendent upon relations firmed by the mortal world – an unshakable bond forged in mutual hardship. Water under the bridge as they say. I will transfer the symbol to Vanesa. Make no mistake, Gophy, joining Artanos regardless if it were love or whatnot, the end result is the same – we’ll turn enemies. We ought to turn a new page. Gophy, my dear Gophy, you were always my favorite. Saving you from Zeus wasn’t part of some big plan – I truly wanted to aid a fighter, the personification of what I thought to be courage and perseverance. My selfishness has no limits. One day, when things change – you’ll stand proudly as my guardian deity, my comrade, my family. Go, don’t turn back, follow what thee wish and take what thee want. Everything will go my way,” he smiled.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha,” she slapped her knee, “-yeah, you’re nothing like him. I like the confident Igna better – you’re already a great leader. Until the day comes where we cross paths – I wish thee good luck, my comrade,” she spun, “-as for the return, perhaps,” her tone lowered, “-a prince may swoop me off my feet,” she stopped herself, “-who am I kidding. So long, Igna,” the suspended figure disappeared in a massive jolt. The parted sea crashed, pulling Igna deep into a suffocating hellscape, “-gasp,” he shot awake shaking at the knee, “-my arms,” he gritted. Morning waved outside the ajar window, he solemnly made the trek to his slippers, a journey across the seas of pillows and covers. A bigger push widened the drapes – there, light blossomed further into the well-furnished bedchambers.

‘There they are,’ a slit in reality opened in black and purple, ‘-the shadow realm,’ he side-stepped to a stubborn portal, it sucked until the other side breathed frigid sighs. A layer of cold and damp under which the passersby tightened overcoats and umbrellas. ‘-Shopping district?’ he looked around, ‘-haven’t been here before.’

Familiar faces exited a cozily fancy shop, the little jingle of bells was a pleasant memory. A loud man voiced crude opinions whilst the accompanier had their gaze upon the stone-brick walkway. “-how very obnoxious. As if giving one’s power justifies the amount of work and responsibility left behind. What of the balance, what are we to say to the people, ‘-I’m sorry, your goddess has eloped?’ can thee imagine...”

The downward gaze arrived at leather shoes, ‘-curious,’ they carried to cropped pants, climbing higher, the neatly pressed dark-gray trousers stopped to be continued into a turtle-neck sweater and eventually the visage. “-Igna?”

“Miira,” he returned, “-so here’s where the portal leads,” and nonchalantly joined her entourage. Guards were at a loss, seeking answers through the many vacant awe, “-Violetta’ Couture. Give me a moment,” he entered and whispered, “-let’s talk at the palace,” the jingle played.

‘-Don’t look at me,’ she composed her expression, “-to the palace, we have much to discuss.”

Formle’s onslaught painfully stopped, “-Cat got your tongue?” she smirked.

“...”

Purple hair parted over a young visage, “-lady Violetta.”

Her knitting motion froze, and an attendant veered her head in shock, ‘-my lady made no response to the guest,’ uncertainty gripped her heart, ‘-this’s never happened before. My lady couldn’t see the man or did she see an estranged future...’

“Lady Violetta,” said Igna yet again, “-I do beg your pardon if I’ve caused unnecessary inconvenience.”

“No, no,” she gathered her strength and resumed, “-lord Igna, I was stunned is all. Take a seat, shall we head inside?”

“I took the liberty of closing the door,” he clopped, closing her rocking chair, “-lady Violetta, weaver of destiny, art thou afraid?”

“Afraid?” her knitting stopped once more – a capable presence loomed from an indenture. ‘-Storeroom,’ wrote across a lovely wooden door left ajar – the disagreement all but fortified, “-I see no reason to be scared,” she said, “-after all, there is little that surprises me.”

“A strong response to boot,” he calmly took her chin and lifted, “-lady Violetta, I’m no enemy, yet, I sense a deeply embedded fear, no, it’s hatred. Your eyes, they may be lost – still, in the infinite greyness, I sense an unshaken resolve for vengeance.”

Long fingers suddenly snapped around his wrist, “-stop thy insolence,” cried the attendant, “-I’ve seen enough of my lady be humiliated, apologize.” A single heartfelt side-glance sufficed. Any lingering scent of bravado scurried into a rising feeling of dread.

“Strong-willed,” he gently lowered his hand, “-I meant no offense, my lady Violetta and lady attendant. It’s a hobby of mine,” he stepped away, “-to test the reaction of people I seldom meet.”

“You jest,” she said, “-a man of thy repute surely gets around.”

“You’d be shocked,” he returned, “-lady Violetta, I meant what I say, the feeling of Vengeance...”

“Speak no more,” she rose from her seat, “-would you kindly help?” she extended a hand in his general direction.

“It would be my pleasure,” he accepted the attendant’s ire, “-do show us the way,” he dug deeper into the lass’ trouble.

“My lord Igna, you sure enjoy teasing people. Quite the troublemaker I see.”

“Not really. The attendant of yours,” he said behind closed doors, “-she’s quite amusing,” a barrier erected per Igna’s snap, complete secrecy, “-my lady, if you would.”

“Very forceful. Women my age don’t have much stamina to handle such steadfastness. ‘nough of chatter. My intention earlier was rude, I apologize for any affront I might have caused. Long ago, during the battle of gods, the first war where a united front was joined for the destruction of the Cursed King, my eyes were taken from me. The king’s minion captured and tortured – those memories are vivid; they took not only my virtuousness but also my sight. For compensation, I was granted a vision that far exceeded reality. I saw and knew everything – the future, the past, I had dominion over what my curiosity peaked. I could never predict him, the man who stole my eyes. I wanted to know why, or if ever he lived to regret the actions – nothing. Earlier, when the door suddenly rang, I felt a sense of terror wash over. I couldn’t sense you nor could I see what thee resembled. The emptiness told greater things.”

“I’m afraid, the emptiness spoke the truth. I’m the incarnation of Alfred, currently known as Igna Haggard, Watcher of the Shadow Realm.”

“I see,” she exhaled, “-what’s happened has happened. I’m grateful for the hospitality shown by the Shadow Realm. We barely escaped the cleansing.”

A third presence materialized, “-Violetta, I wasn’t the one who stole thy vision. It was the gods, my people; demons as was so affectionately dubbed, never did harm to priestesses. My dogma was against the very reality that rejected my existence. Though that time is far from nigh, I must make amends for the harm done. Like a shadow of my prior self, Igna shall suffer the brunt of thy ire.”

“Switching souls,” she smiled, “-the heavenly art of Soulfien, ability to call upon one’s prior incarnations.”

“About Gophy,” he followed, “-Is there anything particular I must know?”

“No,” she replied, “-you’d hope for more information on why she left? I’m afraid tis only her who knows the answer. We did receive a note prior.”

With a copy in hand, Violetta’s Couture seemed a distant memory. The lock clicked, “-lady Violetta?”

*Gasp,* the body barely held upright, a slew of blood and tears coughed and cried, “-WHAT DID HE DO?”

“N-n-n-n-nothing...”

“My lady, please,” arms around her shoulder, “-let’s get you rested.”

“Always so thoughtful, Angela. This man, Igna Haggard, is a man of unknown potential. Tis my fault for digging too deep. There’s more to him than meets the eye. I shudder to think where his journey leads for even I, Weaver of Destiny, do not know the path of an entity beyond reality. Watchers are chosen few of insurmountable power – though the name’s been lost to time, they’re ever present, in the shadows, protecting what’s close to them.”

“Rest, my lady.”

“We’re fortunate,” said Violetta, “-the Shadow Realm is powerful, very powerful.”

Lilith, Miira, and Intherna gathered under the eminence of the throne room. Igna ominously walked up and down, carefully inspecting the four goddesses’ statues, at times would stop under Lilith’s rather short dress and shake his head, “-how accurate are the sculptures?”

“Stop it,” she rolled her eyes, “-can’t refuse a beautiful carving, can I?”

“Sure, you can,” he said, “-guess tis to be expected for the Queen of Demons.” Stools laid in a cross, “-please, everyone,” he offered, “-take a seat.”

“I heard the news,” narrowed Lilith, “-Gophy’s gone.”

Intherna held her fists in silence. There needed nothing for her to formulate, ‘-she’s angry,’ Igna observed.

*Clap, clap,* “-guardian deities, what’s done is done. Gophy passed along her symbol, one whereby I’ll transfer so to Vanesa. She’s the strongest amongst my children.”

“Not Draconis?”

“No, the boy is far too reckless. Gophy’s power is best kept unused – who better than Vanesa. I hope it doesn’t bother, Lilith?”

“Fine by me,” she said, “-long as Vanesa agrees.”

“Don’t blame Gophy,” he said, “-I for once, stand by her. The position of guardian deity was always temporary – I have no strength to stop anyone from leaving. Even now, if anyone decided to leave, I’d but sit back and watch, unable to act. For that, I’m sorry.”