The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 992: Rachie

“I don’t get how my past really affects what’s to come in the future. I can’t afford to pass this opportunity,” the view over the battlements, Draebala’s always somber weather and decrepit undertone, “-guess I’ll start from the beginning, or somewhere where I can gather my thoughts. I’m a native of the Eipea Empire, well, half-half. My father was subject to a goddess’s whims, so I was told. She gave birth to me – most of my childhood memories are of being locked inside. I was taught magic and how the world worked by the very few retainers who cared. Life wasn’t bad, I didn’t think anything of it, and had nothing to compare my situation against. It’s easy to imagine how someone like me would become – I gradually grew to understand and spend time with the workers. Unfortunate concubines, playthings of the gods who whimsically passed over the realm. Those gods often pluck the fairest maiden or handsome man from the hands of their parents and made them into birds in cages. Nothing lasts forever – part of me knew it would end someday, and eventually, as my father impregnated the woman he truly loved – my mother, the goddess, delivered a painful sentence. I was forced to watch as my father, a strong and handsome man, was forced to fight for his freedom. Tridant’s arena, so it had come to be known, was a place reserved for the gruesome duel to the death. The concept’s not so far-fetched,” the voice slowed to painful core memory, he paused to gather thought and breath, “-should I go into details of what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“-Okay, well, my father was made to strip and forced to fight concubines of other gods. Saying a fight’s far from the truth. In reality, the concubines were the very same maids I came to learn from. They were killed and slaughtered as age had taken a toll on their visage and body. To win, father had to forsake his humanity and kill – being dubbed the executioner at one point to only be faced with his greatest challenge. It came after the goddess learned of my sister’s mother. She was forced into the arena – forced to endure the abuse from the god’s minions, forced into shame and unspeakable things. Father endured his fair share – gender didn’t matter, if a god wants one’s body, there’s nothing to be done. Before his grand fight, before I saw my parent kill another, he told me to hide my face and harden my heart. Father fought admirably to the bitter end when the goddess’ new plaything entered the field and emasculated my father, the screams and painful screeches – I couldn’t but watch, I felt my innards tore apart, my heart and what I had come to know was destroyed. I swore vengeance to no avail, I was a kid – left to the mercy of a mother who didn’t much care for me. Her friends, viper goddesses, had their way – I was forced to do the very same things my parent had come to do. As they laid there dying hand-in-hand, my father smiled happily as did his wife, my step-mother. Never met her – she seemed powerful and earnest. Not once did she answer to the god’s lust... I don’t know how she had the strength of mind to fight the way she did. After that fight, my mother decided she had enough and threw me onto a random boat with my half-sister in tow. The ship’s captain, a human from the central continent, showed little to no mercy. To save my sister from whatever cruelty the world had to offer, I did as the captain told me. By day I worked the helm and by night I served his chambers. I guess that became a turning point in my life, I saw how ladies and men looked at me, they wanted to experience what a half-blooded boy had to offer. Guess I slept my way until the boat reached the main continent. Instead of hallowing in my own growing despair, I chose to accept my body as a means of payment. It was easier knowing I could get what I wanted if I did what I was told. The captain wasn’t that bad a person, he allowed breaks and gave us food, and he treated my sister as if she were part of his family. As our journey neared its end, the crew hosted a big celebration for my departure... between you and me, I had slept with every single person on that boat for the two months it took to cross the sea. As recompense, the captain took me to one of his friends – I thought my good behavior would have begotten a reward... I was fucking foolish. The orphanage was the worse six years I ever spent. The director took a liking to me and my sister, we were kept from the masses and saved for special occasions. I couldn’t protect her, and that tore me to pieces. For the second time, even after I accepted all the world had forced, I found my innards torn. The thought of suicide constantly hung over my head – but as the rule goes, one bearing the blood of a god hasn’t the power to end themselves. The abuse was harshened when they discovered I couldn’t be killed. Then came another turning point, the director changed for a stranger man. They said he was from the Aapith nation – I was forced into his room that very night. Instead of the usual, he bore a strange look, he narrowed his fierce gaze and nodded. His words resounded, “-a demi-god forced to endure Draebala’s darkness. The world’s forsaken you, my boy, if you don’t respect yourself, no one is ever going to respect you. Taking the abuse and always listening isn’t the way forward. To survive you must adapt and become cunning, not strong. If you want, I’ll teach you how to make the world yours,” I accepted without questions asked. He taught me how to fight and placed me in charge of the other orphans. I had the power to stop the abuse, I had the power to make it right. Instead, scoffed when the kids asked for help, I laughed when they recounted their tales, and I smiled when a dead body washed onto the orphanage ground. I heeded my teacher’s wise words and became who I am. Years passed, and I grew in size and as a person. My ruthlessness brought unwanted attention, and because of my actions, my sister became the subject of harassment. Trust me,” the voice darkened as he remembered, “-I had the troublemakers stripped and made to fight to the death. The victor was sent to the god of torture’s chamber. He never returned. I didn’t care. I dug myself a stronghold, built a castle from sticks, and sat on a throne of thorns. My teacher was eventually killed during an attack by bored gods. They flew into town, plucked children from parents’ arms, and recruited the stronger. I wasn’t going to surrender without a fight – just as I readied my spell, my teacher gripped my arms and said,” C’est une grande habileté que de savoir cacher son habileté “1 just like that the flicker of life which had saved me plenty of time extinguished. I later figured the quote came from Fran?ois de La Rochefoucauld. Not that it mattered, my master died without so much of a fight. He could have saved the orphanage but chose death, I always wanted to ask why he’d never shown his true capabilities, but the question went unanswered. Nothing ever was the same, a new director arrived at the orphanage – a younger man of lesser intellect. He was the perfect pawn to test my master’s teachings. It worked like a charm, I soon found myself leading various factions of the city from the shadows. I continued deepening the bond my master shared with his kin – I was eventually asked to join their ranks but I refused. They understood why I abstained and said, “-Genus found a good heir. You’re taking his teachings to heart, be wary for the man, as cunning and strong as he was, always kept his cards too close to his chest. To hide one’s ability, the man lived by said principle until his death. If only he had tried, he would have become more than a thinker, he’d have stood equal to leaders and perhaps had led armies. Rachie, as the inheritor of Genus, the Aapith nation will always have a place for the heir he groomed. If you ever need help, don’t forget to reach out, we’ll accept anyone, regardless of their moral standing,” something about said offer, I couldn’t shake the feeling of malice. From there, I took a relaxed place at the orphanage and worked behind the scenes. The exploitation of humans, even demi-gods or demons, I saw as pawns, even the sister I had vowed to protect, it reached a point where I nearly sold her as a favor... it’s stupid as I look back, and if it hadn’t been for the director’s meddling, I would have lost my sister like I lost my family. It didn’t matter, I started gaining influence until the orphanage’s operation was disclosed to the town’s lord. The peasants rallied – I forced the children into picking arms and fighting for their lives. Used the chaos to escape, and didn’t expect war to suddenly explode a few months later. I met two interesting characters, ruffians without a shred of morality. They were the perfect bait. We traveled from towns to the cities – had the man play the abuser, the woman the wife, and us as the children. We drew many righteous gentlemen and dames to our rescue. Always ended the same, we were given shelter and I took advantage of kindness to steal, kill and even sell our benefactor if the price was right. We broke families, shattered relations, and killed for the sake of survival. At one point, my sister stopped speaking altogether – my mind was on the next scheme. Life on the run was fun until it ended. We crossed path with you,” he looked over, “-killed my associates... I had to play the victim else you’d have ended our lives too. I had planned to defraud you, people, as well,” he exhaled, “-more we spent time, the lesser grew my selfishness – the scope I had used was nothing compared to the scale you eyed. My secret was a moment away from discovery,” he skipped on a nearby ledge, “-feels good to let out my deeper thoughts. I can tell you don’t trust me yet, and I wouldn’t trust me either. Lord Starix, I’ve fulfilled my part, what about yours?”

“Rachie,” he laughed, “-you are an idiot,” he cackled, “-an earnest fool. I’m pleased it was you we met that day and not some random puppet. It’s true, I don’t trust you, tis something earnt, a two-way street. You don’t trust us either, which is fine. Now, as for the payment – a question and a wish.”

“Who’s your leader?”

“Depends,” he paused, “-and your wish?”

“I don’t need to spell it,” he smiled.

.....

“You wish to meet the Devil?” narrowed Starix

“Yeah, I would be honored to meet the man behind all of this, I mean, look at Draebala, the place that caused so much pain is in the palms of my hand.”

“Meeting the Devil has its fair share of dangers.”

“I don’t care,” he skipped onto the wall-walk, “-allow me an audience with the master.”

“So be it,” a portal summoned, “-don’t be surprised if the Devil’s, let say, a little whimsical.”

“Fine by me,” they entered Rosespian castle. mild vibrations rose from a paper-filled desk, and a loud crash rattled the office, “-wake up, majesty, I need the paperwork for the acquisition of...” voice slowed to a humble march, “-my, are you Rachie?” narrowed éclair.

“MASTER!” retured a gawk.

He held up a finger,”-hold on a moment,” “-master,” éclair vaulted over the desk and tapped, “-time to wake up.”

“Five more minutes...”