The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 953

Chapter 953: Rebellious end

‘Eia, Raiden... why did this have to happen, how could it be, why me, why us, why our family. You didn’t deserve any of it, I was the one responsible, I should have been there, I should have taken responsibility,’ a lump of pure hatred slipped down Nicola’s fiery hot throat. An uneasy sensation rose deep within the stomach, it stopped short of mouth – a mixture of hiccups and gag, ‘-Raiden,’ the untamed Eia pulled onto the body bag’s zipper. A fouler stench gripped the throne room, flushing bystanders into the open. They ran for immediate exits. ‘My son,’ crossed the unfortunate father’s mind, ‘-he’s gone,’ silent tears fell.

“Theon Rodster and Nicola Vonhem Hart,” proclaimed the king, “-you’re excused. Return to Dorchester and relay the news. Nobles wishing to earn my favor are welcomed to the palace – especially duchy of Goldberg and marquee Hart.”

“Majesty, will there not be a trial for the traitor?”

“No, Alta, the traitors have been tried,” he pointed at Eia and Raiden.

“What will happen to Eia?” inquired Nicola.

“She will die,” replied the king, “-death by starvation, killed by the plague, any number of options is viable.”

“You killed my son, and now are telling me my wife is going to die...” the tone lowered, unable to raise, “-king of Hidros is truly the devil,” he coughed, “-please, majesty, have mercy on her soul. Allow me to take her stead in death. I trapped her, I was the one who charmed the princess for my personal gains. No matter what I did, no matter the path I took – I spat directly in Queen Gallienne’s vision of unity and tore Hidros apart. Because of me, Hidros can never be the same, the Empire’s on our doorstep – I can’t atone for my sins. Let me suffer in her stead, allow me, majesty, I want to see her live and experience a better life.”

.....

“Nicola, look, man,” said Midne, “-she’s not sane of mind, plague has gripped her mental and physical self. She won’t survive.”

“I don’t care, let her live the remainder of her life in peace. I don’t care if it’s minutes, hours, days, weeks, or months, I don’t care. If my life is sufficient offering to the king, I’m willing to trade one for the other.”

King’s character, what would he decide, what would come of the traitors, the last bastion of the Riverty household. Sentimentality aside, there was nothing else to be gained. Deep down, by the solemn casted expression of Nicola’s defeated heart, Igna understood, ‘-no deception in the voice, no resistance in the aura. He truly loves the woman,’ alas, the devil wasn’t an easy shell to crack – and for countless years of humiliation and hardship, ‘-I don’t think I have kindness left to be spared,’ he rose his regard, coming to a decision. “-Nicola Vonhem Hart, on account of love for your wife – I’ll allow thee a chance at retribution. Eia Riverty-Haggard will be spared, her only tie to me is via marriage. I, therefore, decree our marriage to be dissolved, her title of Queen stripped, claims on the throne wiped and her blood being tantamount to the blood of an impoverished noble. Probability of survival is dire,” he sat and watched, observing hope and recognition fuel Nicola’s sight, “-I will afford her only two treatments – use of her arms and her return to sanity.”

*Raphael, Archangel of Restoration; thee who sits uninhibited by the flow of time, reach down and extend a helping hand to the miserable and manifest thineself, for I, Igna Haggard, demands so,* A flash of light brightened the room, golden glow descended from a lavishly ornate chandelier – it felt as if the stars were plucked from the night, a heavenly outline touched beside the king. A young adult sprawled with medium hair parted down his square visage, “-father,” he bowed, “-how might I serve you?” angelic wings sprawled and rested. Gleam droplets flapped against stagnant air. Repugnant smell washed – a cleansing aura cleared the hall. “-Archangel of Restoration, heal the promiscuous queen, treat her arm and restore her sanity,” the angelic outline hovered, stretched his palm towards the lass who cowered, biting her inner cheeks in fear. A seamless smile brightened yet again until *puff,* nothing, normalcy settled. A dumbfounded Nicola brought his knees and hand in prayer, a feeling shared by the few retainers allowed to watch the not-so-secretive audience.

“Where am I?” Eia came too with an aching heart, “-my head,” she pressed her temple and touched the ground with her forehead, ‘-this stench...’ guards carried the bag, “-Nicola and Theon?”

“She’s healed...” laughed Nicola, “-SHE’S HEALED!”

“Not so fast, Nicola. I said she would only be partially healed. Her arm and mental fortitude are returned – the plague and monster curse remains, alongside an unknown number of maladies. The only way for her to be cured is to head Northeast, venture into Kreston, arrive at Port Smith, and ask for Pope Carrigan II. He will heal her plight – after all, the saintly pope is more forgiving than I. You will be afforded no alms nor ration, only the basics given to newbie adventurers. Time is short – I advise thee to move... now.” They ran for it, no questions asked. Igna rose his fingers and conjured an ancient symbol, ‘-did you think?’ Nicola’s joyful face was overshadowed by Igna’s cruelty, ‘-I’d let you live?’ he smiled, ‘-the worse kind of pain is found in moments of hope, not in the abyss of desolation,’ a mark familiar to Alta snapped onto Eia’s neck.

“Majesty...” widened Alta, “-the curse of Akina?” he acknowledged her words and said nothing in return, instead of turning to Theon. “-Take my royal decree to Dorchester.”

“As you wish, my king,” said Theon gratefully.

“Alta, prepare the paperwork,” he said, “-show him around, he’s a new member.”

“Understood, my king,” said a distant sigh, “-come on then, let’s go.”

Po stood his ground, not in bravery, but in confusion, ‘-what about me?’ he asked.

“Po, as a representative of Snow, which I’m guessing needs arms from us, will have to wait. The dark guild isn’t easily found, they’ll contact you, don’t stray from the capital else we may never know, a foreigner could be found dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Words etched deeply, the man stood and left, accompanied by guards. The throne room settled, allowing the king to breathe, ‘-what a mess,’ he stood. Midne gave her due and left to attend her duties.

“Conclusion to the Hidrosian Rebellion,” read a report, ‘-after the tedious war between Dorchester and Kreston – the holy church of Leon, backing Dorchester, and Kreston, backed by Hidros, arranged for the commander, Bishop Greg, was killed at the hands of King Igna. Peace talks were finalized on an imperial decree, stating in exchange for Queen Eia, the empire is granted legitimate claim over the Vigrant archipelago and part of Dorchester’s land. The holy crusade is stopped, holy warriors of Leon and the noble prisoners remain in Krestonian custody, to which the kingdom of Hidros has complete authority over their faith. Agreement was signed on the 10th of June, and a few days later on the 13th, Queen Eia was delivered at the palace. Then, on the 23rd, emissaries, namely; Nicola, Po, and Theon, arrived at the castle,’ Igna broke the focus and stared at his phone, the date read, 23rd of June, ‘-and thus, marked the end of the revolutionist faction. Per order of King Igna, Dorchester’s land was split into three. Queen Eia and Nicola Vonhem were shortly spotted leaving the capital. Theon Rodster swore fealty. Reported spy, Po, was seen making arrangements at one of the cottages, fondly named, Pussy palace.’ There, he closed the report, ending the tumultuous chapter in his return to power. The file dropped and landed over the desk, ‘-Raiden is pronounced dead by infection of the monster plague. What the report doesn’t state is how Eia would suffer immeasurable pain on her way to Kreston with Nicola. They think she’ll be saved. Sadly, none can save someone who’s unharmed. I can picture it, a relieved Nicola arrives at Port Smith, hand in hand with a traumatized Eia – nights of abuse at the hands of demons, flashbacks to the murder of her son, the infidelity, and how everything came crashing down. The human mind can only hold so much – they’ll arrive at Duke Carrigan’s doorstep only to be told the pope is at the capital, holding sermons to guide Kreston through a theological revolution. The incertitude will force them to walk – inflation isn’t easy on noncombatants – they’ll arrive famished and unable to speak – Eia’s condition will worsen the moment she seeks salvation from the pope. Lucifer’s prayers will douse the curse of Akina, a raging flame with alcohol. Sufferance in the last moments, unable to see her lover’s face – blindness will set, the abuse amplifies and demons feasts on remnants of her life energy, her soul devoured from the inside bring into reality a demon. I’ve set the stage for Wrath to be born. Time will tell,’ he paused and sipped, ‘-the gift of foresight.’ A presence rattled the room. Furniture and ever playing record player stopped. A seductive aura slowly wrapped her arms behind his back, warm cheeks and the sweet aroma of a dame left a peck, “-hello, Igna,” whispered. He calmly side-glanced, “-Lilith.”

“Aw,” she stepped away, circled and straddled Igna, both watched eye to eye, “-always take the fun out of my coyness,” she held his chin with one hand and caressed his face, outlining the sharp jaw with the other, “-I’ve missed you,” she pouted, her long dark-brown hair ran along her shoulders, beauty-mark near her rosy lips, shy of her carefully crafted nose and pensive gaze was in a way, her very own aphrodisiac. Every time her mouth opened, a part of Igna knocked as if a hammer against an anvil, “-why don’t you visit, I get lonely at night you know.”

“Lilith,” he turned his head and rested on her chest, “-don’t make it sound scandalous. I’d never dream of having such an intimate relationship.”

“Oh please,” her fingers ran along the white hair, “-we know, you know better. Jokes aside, I do miss you, Igna,” she tightened her grip, locking Igna into a warm and comfortable embrace, “-the curse of Akina, I felt it activate.”

“Yeah, it’s up to the wheel of fortune to decide if a prince or a low-level demon walks through. I’m hoping tis the former – the power of vices is unbelievably useful.”

Her grip lessened, he lifted his head and carefully admired her visage, “-I’m sadly not here for the curse. Aapith Nation, I’m afraid,” she said, “-remember those vague mentions of a war between revived titans and the gods?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“It seems the battle’s arrived at Draebala. A new continent was born, and the ancient gods and demons have joined hands to dethrone the current hierarchy. Sadly, for the gods, Athena, Nike, and a few more were exiled. Without a general to lead the godly realm, and the Eipea Empire’s current mess, lower-level deities blessed with peaceful worlds have been swallowed. Similar to when Scifer conquered worlds – if Draebala gets lost – victor might have enough power to rival the shadow realm. The importance of Draebala is undeniable, which is why I’m here. Aapith nation needs to rally behind a ruler, their true ruler, Alfred.”

“What do they seek?”

“Origin, Creation, Death and Time. Symbols of power you’ve inherited,” she kissed his cheek, the combined symbols of power shone, “-like it is here.”

“Time and Death are lost to me,” he replied, “-I have Nike’s blessing and remnants of what was bestowed by Origin.”

“Speaking of Origin, where is he?”

“We’re one of the same,” he replied, “-Lilith, I can’t accurately answer the question.”

“I know,” she dropped her arms onto his shoulder, gripped around his neck, tilted her head, and pulled closer to his lips, “-Eipea Empire and the Aapith nation are archaic. Don’t forget, you’re blessed as a watcher – and have a lot of potential, despite said potential, four generals of the Shadow Realm dwarves your power. What I’m saying is simple, let the Shadow Realm become a haven for those willing to escape, allow us to show heaven, hell, and the realms who’s the strongest,” they locked lips, and the door opened. F