The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1043: Stephanie’s essay

“Igna, where is Igna?”

“My lady, please, you don’t understand,” hurried an attendant, “-the king has asked not to be disturbed.”

“I don’t care,” Minerva threw her arms, “-I need to see him,” the menacing presence stormed a quaint little observatory. The white figure was illuminated by the moonlight unglued from a massive telescope, turning the pale yet handsome visage. A kind smile unraveled.

“Minerva, how goes it?”

“Don’t,” she rose her hand, “-we need to talk, privately.”

“Okay,” he motioned to the guard, who, with a courteous bow, left.

Things leading to the current predicament were best relayed by Stephanie and he knew what Minerva wanted.

.....

“After killing the demon beast, on orders by my master – the restriction placed upon my powers was undone. I flew to Jinhe with all my might. A tremor rattled my right, planes made trips to and fro – I could see a bigger army being stacked at the frontier, west, towards Hols. Greenery separated towns, villages, and man-made structures. Surrounding geography favored the mountainous range if you were to move right, towards Chiad, whilst, left, west, there carried a smoothening of the cliffs and sharp natural impasses. I knew then and there, the prior explosion marked the start of another battle. I flapped my wings and sought a better look – there in the distance was a massive army, nothing to the current battle. I hurried and saw Eliot with his companion, an otherworldly being.

“Hello,” waved Eliot with a large unalarmed smile. I noticed there was an inconsistent number of soldiers, and when I asked, “-where are the rest?” he returned a just look of regret, “-a full scale retreats’ been issued. My team and I are tasked to guard the village until the villagers are evacuated. Moving such an amount will require patience and a lot of luck.”

“Reinforcement will be here at any minute. We should leave, there’s the risk of artillery fire.”

“Been handled,” he nodded, “-the hill was bombed, would be foolish for them to take the same position. As you said,” he hurled Knightfall over his shoulder, “-we need to leave, not before a little shooting contest.” There, with an energetic hip to his step, Eliot seamlessly ran upstairs towards a truly dangerous spot. The resolute echoes, the unique twang, and the burst of energy spoke loudest. A draft caught my attention, and I looked at a massive opening. Scattered charred remains littered the entrance amidst a plethora of footsteps. Such large numbers required the help of a specialist. I barely fit the profile – only bound to the word my master ordered. I summoned my wings once more, floated to an advantageous altitude, and noticed other discrepancies. We grew tunnel vision, I saw trouble, “-Stephanie,” took me off-guard, the caller read Master, “-north, there’s a legion of unidentified mass moving south. They’re traveling rather fast. Can you see something, there’s interference on my side.”

“Oh, I see something alright,” before I stretched a mass of demons, “-it’s monsters,” I replied, “-monsters from Hell, the domain of the wretched. The Gates of Hell have been opened, master, we might require more than airstrikes to clear those numbers. I see golems, giants, swarms of Heynia(four-legged bats), and a few mid-tier demons. Won’t be a good sight if they make it back. What are your orders?”

“I understand,” said my master, there carried a coldness to the way in which he answered. Frankly, looking at the trial before me, I couldn’t help but feel a little shaken. Tales home always spoke of Hell as one of the worse realms to battle. With my powers gradually shortening, I had to make a move. There, the master spoke again, breaking my trance, “-Stephanie, by decree of the Shadow Realms’ Watcher, I grant thee access to Glarios. Say the word and I shall summon forth your comrades.”

“So be it,” I replied, I no longer felt fear, no longer cared about the task ahead. Alone I was fearful, and together with my team, together with people far stronger, I strengthened. By the clap of my sweaty palms and the ring of my tongue, a portal split the sky. An opposite, more destructive wave fell, it seemed like a waterfall – the raw energy swept the ground in a thick fog. The enemy forces slowed, the monsters that are. A warm pair of hands grabbed my shoulders, they were my comrades, dressed in peculiar clothes dated all around the millennia. The unfolding scene bellowed compelled my focus to stray.

“On your feet,” came promptly. I knew it was directed at me, “-If the battle below interests thee more, be my guest and flew.” I chose silence, seeing as my friends were in a right ol’ mood. I picked remnants of my vigor and faced forward – I felt the seal tighten around my neck, my time would be over sooner than I thought. Thus, in a swift blaze, the angelic figure of my comrades stormed the frontlines and tore at the demons and beasts like they were ants. I sought for a fight, fought nothing, and ignored the elephant in the room, the Gates of Hell, in the rush of the moment.

“GET THE PORTAL!” ’twas then, at the cries of another friend, that I lunged forward and shattered the door that weighed tons, or so it seemed by the size and bulk. Was I too strong or were the gates weakened? Nevertheless, before five minutes were over – flashes of light exited. The ground was marred in pure angry red, touched on with yellow and white. I’d be a fool to ignore the scale of such destruction. Compared to the hill, the difference was night and day. The latter held its shape at the very least. Where I stood upon, well, there was nothing. The ground seemed lower and I felt nauseated.

“Stephanie,” the interface rang once again, “-problem’s been dealt with. An evacuation was an overall success. Eliot just left the village; you can catch up at the intersection. Hurry, the seal will reactivate.” Didn’t know, else I would have walked. I summoned my wings once more and flapped. The destination was clear. I flew over wastelands and soon exited onto a lovely array of tall trees. It was sad to see nature be destroyed... no matter the justification, there could have been or were perhaps other ways of dealing. Who am I to complain? Eliot’s unharmed party waited at the crossroads. A sharp sensation snapped, and I immediately knew... the seal reactivated, I lost flight and ended into a thicket.

“Are you okay?” I heard down below.

“Yeah,” I replied, “-I’m stuck.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out,” said a distant echo. Took the worst part of thirty minutes, but eventually, I was out with scraps and a lost shoe. Eliot paid no heed and continued our walk. Hours after were uneventful. We chatted, and spoke about some of our experiences in this world, he kept referring to Iqeavea as if it were strange. I knew Eliot was of this world, but, by how he spoke and rambled, it would be more correct to assume the man was nothing not of this world. A by-product of Phantom’s initiation, I suppose. Master mentioned so in passing. Time passed, and the conversations and thoughts kept me rather busy – everyone had their piece to say. Before I noticed, I was once more Stephanie of Antom news, the reporter.

“Is my crew, dead?” Googlᴇ search ɴovel(F)ɪre

“No, no. They went first. We’ll meet them at Hols.”

Content on the good news, I walked, clambered rather – the forest was a pain to fight. Branches recoiled, being at the end of the pack meant taking a few scraps to the chest or worse, face. By then, I noticed shuffling to my side, “-Stephanie, I heard about the book you’re writing. Officer Charles mentioned it and said we were free to speak our stories. Would you hear mine?” an unexpected delicious piece of memory dropped on my lap, I would be a fool to refuse. So, I began to record and listen to the passionate stories of brave men. The very men who protect the Kingdom and uphold its tradition. The contrast was evident, I found myself more inclined to their recounting instead of recoiling. We were scolded a few times for being loud; talk about being treated like kids.

A break in the forest led to open space. The frontier was upon us. A massive barrier stretched from one side to the next – the highly militarized zone had surveillance at every corner. A buzz ushered our entrance. It was over, my moment to shine as someone of a greater world was reduced to the commonness of my assignment. There was honor and privilege in the powers I was rightfully born with. What I didn’t understand was discrimination, a word thrown without caution to the wind. Different, it was very much different.

A fifteen-meter divide between each barrier, called the buffer, was made of sand and dust. Practically no plants or weeds dared grow – it was dry and hot. “We control the buffer,” remarked a soldier, “-keep moving, reinforcement will be here soon.”

We went in and out smoothly. Electrical gates shut tight, the buzz and flash audibly apparent. It was yet another sight to behold – I felt free and safe, I don’t know why, the soothing aura here, compared to where I was a few seconds ago, was, how can I say, perplexing. The trees were similar, and the landscape to some extent felt familiar.

“Safe,” said a passing soldier, he spoke aloud what I felt. I waved and smiled; “-how can you say safe?”

A judgmental scan went up and down, “-passing the frontier is one of the greatest things that might happen. The buffer is a kill zone. Anyone, civilian or not, without authorization or proper identification, will be shot or electrified to death. It’s one of the harder things to do,” the stern man bid me adieu. Separate trucks waited, Eliot calmly extended his hand and showed me to our transport. We rode for the next hour to Hols – midway was stopped, forced to let tanks and heavy weaponry through. The soldiers held grave looks – excited, others petrified.

Great big walls surrounded by a dried moat, carried in them watchtowers that rose with a certain bulb-ness at the summit. I overheard, “-looks like préservatif1,” and so came muffled laughter. More of the town was outside the great walls – we drove up to the castle where the iron gates were perpetually held up.

Touching grass felt amazing after the rough ride. Fellow travelers shared their discomfort through groans, stretches, and the occasional, “-my back hurts.” Eliot and I bid farewells not before he guided me to the medical camp.

“Stephanie,” said officer Charles, “-it’s good to see you.”

“Charles?” I paused, “-were the exorcists not needed in Chiad?”

“Have you not heard?” he grinned; “-the army has captured the town. It’s a matter of time before we discover what we’re really after. The fighting has been grave, I heard there have been a lot of casualties.”

“Why are you here?”

“Change of plans. No matter, what you did back there was amazing. Pray tell, what exactly are you?”

“Oh, that information is confidential,” she winked, “-under strict orders from the king. Where are my crew?”

“Ever the secretive reporter. Your people are inside the cafeteria, they’ve been healed using magic and are as good as new. Duty calls, I should get going,” he stopped midway, “-I have news, you are to write a descriptive report on what transpired. Orders from the king – I’d attack with inclination to a narrative essay. Our king sure loves his whims.”

The idea didn’t quite excite my creative side, not before I had a plethora of soldiers wanting to relay their stories. Do excuse the rush, it was the best I could write in my limited time. I hope this is an adequate report, though, I do beg for your forgiveness master, I don’t quite get the assignment. May you be in good health,” signed Stephanie.