The Wielder of Death Magic

Glancing the phone at regular intervals, the little dot which was him, soon arrived at the outer-edge. The view that emerged from the prior foliage was a jungle of concrete. There was no barrier nor walls, unlike the other districts, Lai was opened to the wild. Needless to say, security was present in multiple forms of outposts with heavy-looking black vans. The guards atop were armored and ready to fight.

‘Intimidating,’ he crossed over a speed-bump – an unnatural change from forest to urban. Taking no detours nor rest stop; traffic lights became more frequent. The fast-paced journey came to a halt.

The populous was casually dressed; many fashion icons were up on billboards and advertisements. A particular red-hoodie was worn by a lady with dark-brown hair with Estell written on the bottom. The light turned green, and soon after a few lanes, the same hoodie was spotted by a lady stepping out of an expensive car. The latter stood before a massive building with ‘Meldorino’ written on it. Besides the giant building, rose another twice its size with ‘Diamant’ standing out on the walls.

‘No time to waste,’ thought he continually pedaling.

*Incoming call from Guild Leader Haru.*

“Hello?” the mess of traffic exploded into the microphone with horns and shouts.

.....

“Where are you?” asked she physically distancing from her phone.

“In Lai, currently heading to the Trader’s Guild.”

“Did the lady not escort you to her home or restaurant?” the intonation was of a question.

“I don’t really know myself, ma’am. She left me at the airfield with a bicycle and said her husband would contact me when was due.”

“Those idiots,” smothered her voice across, “-Hey, take that at the back of the truck, dumbass,” screamed she in the distance.

“Lady Haru, shall I hang up?”

“No, no,” quick to chuckle, “-head to the trader’s guild. I’ll inform them to have someplace to stay arranged. Igna, Rosespire is a harsh place, don’t do anything to stand out. And absolutely no fighting, I won’t back down from my promise.”

“Yes my lady, I won’t fight nor cause harm. You sent me to learn cooking, not fighting, I understand those words deeply.”

“Good, then I’ll call you in a bit, take care,” it ended with a beep.

‘I believed in the lie I told, how low can a person fall. Suppose this is my nature, the personality I’ve forgotten and will probably never get back. Maybe the incident earlier had a clue of my past. For one, there’s me not feeling anything when killing someone else. Next, I can lie without breaking a sweat. Those are the only ones, I think,’ he pressed on biking. At around 13:00 and still on the same road, the other edge of Lai came in sight. Same old guards patrolling the open border. None batted an eye at he who sped past.

The scenery laid into a green flat-lands with occasional fields of wheat and wind-mill over yonder. The terrain after said flat-lands distraught into small hills. The journey along this particular road was idyllic. Warm heat from the sun, gentle breeze from the wind, and strength from the legs. Cars would often slow to check the cycling figure to then continue.

‘There goes the tram again,’ thought he stopped at an intersection. Similar to the airfield back when. The road split to head into the open-field and disappear at the hills. The signpost had ‘-Lengo’s Farmhouse,’ written on it. ‘A quarter of the way there,’ breathing a sigh, rumbling came from the stomach. ‘Guess there’s no better place to stop than this.’

Sat with back against a boulder, he unraveled a plastic bag with bread and butter. The cycle laid on the ground as if taking a nap. The head lean, each bite felt dry and hard to swallow. ‘The difference between this and the food I’m used to is like heaven and hell. There’s no arguing since it’s the Legionnaire’s meal. What even is Mothra, a bandit camp, some vigilante association, I’m confused. Bit by bit, the round-shaped bread or pain maison1, as said by the locals, rested in the stomach. ‘Something to drink,’ he foraged further until a half-empty water bottle. Cold with frosty tingling, the liquid traveled down the throat forcing him to sigh.

14:30 till 21:30, seven hours of biking led to Onela. Halfway across, the flat-land changed into a gentle hill through which passed the road. A man-made gorge through which flowed cars and vehicles as opposed to a river. Borders erected with guard-post. No stops or verification, the line advanced as ordered by the traffic-stops. The guards were vigilant of the threat of monsters and bandits.

Everything changed, the people returned from work in suits and formal clothes. Onela was separated into two parts, one for office and the other for manual. The former was negotiations of produce by companies to another while the latter was the local factories. The linking road of the three-district served as the border for Onela. Pulling tight on the breaks, it stopped next to a police officer.

“Excuse me,” called Igna.

“...” large and powerful, the officer took a few seconds to glance at who spoke.

“Hello, can you hear me?” he waved.

“What is it boy?” the deep voice matched the angered expression.

“I’m lost, can you please help?”

“Sure, where are you headed?” the look of anger didn’t match his personality. The stone wall came crashing with the boy asked for help.

“I’m looking for the Trader’s Guild.”

“Oh, which one, Ardanian or Hidros?”

“Ardanian, the one under Guild Leader Haru.”

“No problem, see that road over there,” he pointed, “-turn and carry-on cycling. Should be there faster than you know.”

“Thanks, sir,” with a nod, the journey continued. Over in the distance came the walls of Rosespire with faint-lights atop the ascending road. ‘He didn’t say there was a mountain to climb,’ breathing hard, the ascent all but intensified.

‘We’ve made it,’ it leveled, the road spread into differing routes similar to the veins on the back of a leaf. The buildings increased in size but not height. The towering wall of Rosespire remained prominent similar to an ever-watching guardian.

‘The guilds,’ after a roundabout, well-placed signs told of what laid ahead.

‘Guild Area,’ read one after which came similarly sized infrastructures. The roads were narrower but present, people of differing races walked; sometimes hand in hand, other times with arms crossed, an overall feeling of pleasantness had the mind at ease.

‘I’ve made it,’ stairs led into the centermost building of which was larger and taller. *Ardanian Trader’s Guild,* stood on up high as blocks of glowing white letters. Many people in suits exited the premises to their cars. Some smiled, others frowned, the receptionists waved listlessly.

Following a flight of stairs, glass doors hidden by frost were guarded strongly. Two of the beastmen tribe stood with arms crossed. The uniform couldn’t do much to hide the natural hairs.

“Excuse me,” approached the boy, “-is this the Ardanian Trader’s guild?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” returned he with a surprisingly good accent.

“I’ve come on behalf of Lady Haru.”

“The guild leader sent you?” the fierce eyes narrowed to reluctantly open the door, “-go check with the receptionists,” he gave a once-over as the boy entered.

Bright lights stuttered the high-ceilings. The upper floors were dimmed as it was after hours.

“Hello, how can I help you?” asked a demi-human with sweet eyes and furrier ears and tail.

“Hello, I’m Lyoko Igna, lady Haru said she’d call about my visit.”

“Oh, it’s you,” she nodded, “-Igna right?” the formality dropped, “-she said to assign you to the kitchen. The chefs have gone home already, you’ll stay in the workers quarters,” throwing her fist over the shoulder to point with the thumb. “-Get settled in, our food here is very much desired.”

“Follow me,” came another with a simple outfit,”-I’ll take you to the quarters.”

“About my bicycle?” before putting another word –

“-we’ll have it taken to the underground parking lot,” she exclaimed.

“They sure are strict,” said the guide pushing open another door.

“Aren’t they just doing their job?” unbothered by the ladies, the duo walked.

“Is that the kitchen?” a bar-restaurant rested beyond. Amber with multiple drinks on display, the tables coming after were decorated and luxuriously arranged.

“No, the kitchen is at the back,” pointed he, “-how did you get to come work here?”

“I’m Lyoko Igna, call me Igna,” he stopped to give a handshake, “-nice to meet you.”

“I’m Olra Konoe, nice to meet you too, Igna.”

“Well then, Konoe, what do you do here?”

“A trainee-chef,” he smiled.

“Me too, what a coincidence.”

“Not really,” the eyes narrowed with each smile, “-promising chefs are often brought here to test their skills. Our head-chef is a drill sergeant. Where did you train?” a lift was called forth.

“At a restaurant in the academy, what about you?”

“Never heard of it,” the door opened, “-I went to Leko’s Cooking Academy in Plaustan.”

“By Leko, do you mean Chef Leko?” wondered he coming to the fifth floor.

“Yeah, the founder is a young but very important man in the world of fine dining. I’m curious, how did you get here without going through the academy?”

“Actually, it’s my mentor who sent me. Chef Leko,” he casually smiled, “-I never thought he would have an Academy...”

“Hold on,” they came to a simple hallway, “-are you telling me you were taught by Chef Leko?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “-we’ve been working together for the past few months.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he facepalmed, “-such an opportunity doesn’t come twice. The Founder only comes to the school to oversee the exams. He’s failed more people than I dare to imagine.”

“He’s very strict,” flashbacks to dead chickens flying across the room scarred the face, “-y-yeah, strict...”

“I’m confused though,” now before a plain brown door, “-why did he send you here of all places? Learning from him personally should be a boon in itself.”

“I was recruited to work with Lady Lordon.”

“L-L-Lordon...” light-headed by the name, “-you need to tell me about it,” the door opened to a small apartment. “We’ll share this room, there’s two-bed, a shower, and a small television to indulge,” he leaped onto the couch, “-here, here, come here right now!” the screen toggled to the cooking channel. Lady Lordon sat in the company of multiple actors and actresses, “-that’s her,” said he, “-it’s a recorded episode of a popular talk-show. Her influence is ever-reaching, the world of cooking is diverse.”

“Konoe, tell me about the academy?”

“Oh, it’s the same as any other school. There’s an entrance exam supervised by renowned chefs. They judge based on gastronomy theory and then actual cooking.”

“Interesting,” fully giving his attention, “-how long have you been cooking?”

“Ever since I was four. I come from a rather rich family – my father’s very fond of good food. I guess I wanted to become a chef to see him smile with what I made,” shaking his head, “-what about you, how in the hell did you get noticed by Lady Lordon?”

“It was Chef Leko’s doing. I didn’t know how to hold a knife till a few months ago. It began at the Adventuring Academy, I signed to become a trader and ended on the path to becoming a chef.”

“T-that’s not too long ago,” he watched with doubt, “-Igna, would you please prepare me something to eat. I want to see what a boy who only began cooking a few months ago can accomplish,” the brows crinkled the forehead.

“S-sure,” they stood, “-what of the guards and receptionist, can I cook them something too?”

“We had dinner a few hours ago, I guess it’s cool, let me ask them first,” phone in hand, the conversation ended quickly. “-They said alright – go on then, Trainee Igna, show me the skills.”

.....