The Wielder of Death Magic

Indifferent to the mud, aided by their wings, Igna and Intherna hovered till the village center marked by a stone-brick well. Few bystanders overlooking their humbly build houses without windows glared, the openings hidden behind curtains and otherwise fabric made for clothes.

“I don’t think we’ll get much out of them,” commented Intherna, her fists opened and closed, the motion, a moment’s relief for her, sent the wrong message across.

“Well, nothing we can do but try,” said Igna, “-villagers like these often have onlookers hiding in the shadows. They’ll come out sooner or later,” to which he spun on his heel and made way to the well. ‘-I heard muffled sounds earlier,’ he thought and ambled forth cautiously.

Intherna matched his motif and spun away from the well, her arms tenderly held Fenrir in a cradle, “-too tight,” exclaimed Fenrir.

“Too cute,” she replied under an overwhelmed sniffle, “-I earnestly cannot get enough of the way the ears are shaped, its flurry and pretty.”

“We’re being watched.”

.....

‘What do we have here,’ stopped shy of the stone-circle, he leaned, glanced downward into an abyssal tunnel – the downward drop went on till naught was seen, ‘-don’t hide from me,’ the eyes shut, through the weeks of training and battle, senses otherwise dull in times of peace, reawakened – the ability to sense living creatures regardless of lighting, handily illuminated the way. A squint sharpened the image, ‘-small, nearing its life,’ he pressed, ‘-wait.’

*SPLASH,* ‘-this kid,’ he dove further, reached through the muddy sensation of calm water to land on smooth and feeble arms, ‘-so weak,’ he clenched and swam upward, ‘-if I grip any harder, the arms might break.’

“IGNA?” echoed above, “-WHAT HAPPENED?” the voices amplified.

“Stop screaming and drop a rope,” he refuted. The next minute, a perplexed Intherna watched and waited, silently judging his action. Fenrir watched similarly without judgment; her mien kept neutral.

‘I was right,’ fingers ran through the child’s buttoned-up collar, ‘-the emblem of the town made in gold, the kid must be from a noble family.’ The scarcely populated village grew by the second, sickle, pine forks, name it and they held it, a mob of ire gathered in solidarity. The village leader stepped amidst the crowd, scrawny and tall, the eye socket was far into his visage, a shadow cast from the overarching temples brought mysteriousness to his motion. Uncared facial hair, bruised hands, muddied boots and pants, ‘-they rushed from the fields. If I were to guess, me examining the well has bounded them together. A nearly killed noble and its villagers; oppression could be the reason or employment from another faction,’ he rose, tapped Intherna’s shoulder, “-dry the boy, don’t use healing magic.”

“Understood.”

“Who are you people,” said the village leader softly, a well-mannered tone unbecoming the visible tension.

“Travelers,” he replied, “-we were turned away from the town and came here seeking refuge for the night. My wife needed water, therefore, I reached into the well and saw a young boy trying to swim.”

“Impossible,” said the leader, “-the well is far too deep for one to see. The weather and lighting don’t make it possible either. Mister, who are you again, I ask kindly, if I’m met with lie...”

‘Pickaxes, those are masons,’ he observed in the crowd, ‘-the well, it’s to do with the well, if only I had the Nox’s curse of sight, let us gamble.’

“The sound,” he replied sincerely, “-I heard what seemed to be a struggle.”

“Struggle, huh,” the villagers glared, “-the boy look to be unconscious, doesn’t he,” said the village leader.

‘Caught you.’ “-well, how would the villagers know of the boy’s state of being. I think it’s lucky I saved him, there is the Tariel crest, he must be important. He must have got stranded and fell; the slippery ground doesn’t make it easy to stand.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Well, yes, why should I think of more when a mishap is the cause of the incident. Perhaps,” a side-glance to the root of the quandary, “-if it’s to be replaced, the source of water might be a great place to hide a body. Tis customary to fill a well to the brim after the construction of one newly built. A dead body is never acceptable, the water would have been poisoned and maladies would have plagued the village.”

The leader thrust two steps forward, raising his eyebrows to a straight bold line, “-we thank you for rescuing the boy. Times have been hard lately, I’m afraid most of the villagers have to tend to the fields. We couldn’t have noticed the boy, could we now.”

‘And here he gives the clue of complicity, he’s changed the facts to match my narrative. No way they could have rushed here in such a short time, the boy was thrown in maliciously – that much I know, he was unconscious too, I happened on it by chance. Perfect, tis a win-win situation.’

“By all means, lady fate must have thy interest in mind.”

“Please stay the night,” said the leader, “-we have an outhouse to the north, it should provide adequate protection against the night and cold. We’ll care for the boy and make sure he returns to the town.”

“I’d feel at ease if the boy stayed with us,” said Igna, “-my lovely daughter’s taken a liking to the boy,” she heard his word, understood the intent, and began to play with the boy’s puffy and flush cheeks, the cold vanished, a warm flame kept him alive.

“Fair,” murmured the leader, “-may you rest well, traveler.”

“Follow me,” said another leading the charge, by extension, the outhouse was far from sight and cradled in weeds and overgrown trees. A secondary roof of foliage sternly veiled the sloped roof, ‘-better build opposed to the houses in the village. The interior is empty save a few pieces of furniture, there are windows and a fireplace, why’s no one using said place?’

“There we are, mister,” said the guide, “-I’ll return home, lock the doors at night, the monsters often target the home.” *clop, clop, clop,* he scurried outside and ran through the mud path, the distant figure seen through the windows, passed from one room to the next and vanished – the reflection of the village caught and stood onto the window panes.

Fenrir’s appearance changed to her mature self, “-stuffy,” she said, growing and filling the shirt, “-what’s the dirt on these people, very shifty.”

“I agree,” said Intherna, they gathered around the fireplace inside the living room – from a lovely round table to a soft carpet, “-and this house is awesome,” she lit a fire, the rescued boy laid upon the rug.

“We might have bitten more than we can chew,” said Igna ominously at the window, ‘-they’ve set their eyes on us,’ he observed.

“Do keep us in the loop.”

“Fine, fine,” he pulled the curtains and made for fireplace, “-at the moment, I have many hypotheses, I lack evidence. The boy is either innocent or evil, to kill a child, one has to have a strong motive, money wouldn’t cut it when the fate of the village is at play. There’s something of more value to be obtained from the death, said route tells us the villagers won’t stand out.”

“Didn’t they say they didn’t know about the kid?”

“Blatant lies,” he answered, “-isn’t it strange the leader kept calm whilst the crowd neared anarchy, they wanted to fight, when I asked for the boy to be in our care, the aura intensified, therein, the leader gave us this place to stay, on which, the aura lessened. There’s more to the place than we know – one thing is for sure; we have a place to stay the night.”

“What about the boy?”

“Let him be the bait, who knows, he may very well be a stuck-up noble throwing his weight, wouldn’t be the first time.”

*Gasp,* a loud inhale roused the tranquility, a shadow of the boy slapped across the room, “-where am I?”

“Hello boy,” returned Igna sat with one leg onto the other.

“Who are you?” he took a defensive stance.

“The man who rescued you. Did you fall in the well?” the flames added terror onto Igna’s already intimidating persona.

“Of course not, I was kidnapped from what I remember.”

“Go from the start, tell me what happened.”

“I was out for my morning walk in the company of my butler, I’ve always liked to go out and explore the world, mother and father said outside the wall lives a world far worse than hell, on my coming-of-age ceremony, I decided to venture outside the walls and see the world for myself. I don’t know how and when during one of the rare trips father allowed me to accompany, I saw the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I fell in love, she lived outside, wore shabby clothes and no footwear, despite that, her smile and radiant blue eyes never once wavered. I began to sneak out of the manor to see her again, I bribed the guards and was able to sneak to the village, we met under a lonesome tree in the fields and played. Aulia, that’s her name, Aulia. I guess the other kids of the village didn’t like me, I was bullied but didn’t give, I wanted to stay at her side and would do anything for that chance. However, all changed when a dragon attacked, security harshened, the town’s people were forced to starve – there, my father decided to increase tax on the villagers and pull onto their remaining resources. Many of the children and elders didn’t make it through the winter, when I returned to the village, Aulia told me to not meet her again, her body was little more than bones, I felt bad but couldn’t do anything. I returned home that day feeling defeated – a few weeks passed and I chose to apologize on behalf of my father’s action, I went to the village, she was gone, the villagers didn’t say anything, last time I remember was being thrown in someplace dark, unable to scream.”

“That would be today, boy. The girl, Aulia, is most likely dead, if not monsters, the starvation would have done its fair share of damage. Can’t say I’m surprised,” one leg dropped sternly, he leaned onto his elbows and glared, “-a soft-spoken son of a tyrannical father. What now I wonder?”

“Sire, please, help me find out what happened to Aulia.”

“The blond girl?” he eased into his seat, night sprawled onto the continent, “-look outside.”

“Outside?” he rose on his knee and started thrusting his gaze above the table, the visage of a wide-eyed blond girl returned, a flash of lightning lit her outline further.

“WHAT,” he dropped and held his hand to cover the window, “-what happened to her,” he clawed in terror, threw a look of despair to Igna – countless steps gathered around the house.

“Look boy, we’re surrounded, they want your life. There are two options, give up and be killed, or stand up and fight, either way, the outcome is set, you’ll die. The night’s not so fortunate upon those who dare tread lightly, bloodthirsty monsters will claw out the shadows and kill.”

“What should I do?” he innocently looked onto Igna, “-help me...”

“No boy, the world isn’t kind. My help doesn’t come cheap,” the legs crossed, he sat and stared menacingly with an elbow onto the chair’s arm in a toothache pose. Lightning and a screaming gale emphasized the man’s terrifying presence, “-doth thee dare plea and offer thine, soul, to the devil?”