Chapter 1
The monster loomed before Mortaziel, an abomination of death, its bloodlust in its glowing eyes. It wasn’t that huge, but it had a scary aura. Its eyes were red, and it was a deep black color. It stared into Mortaziel’s eyes as if trying to extract his soul and then shifted its gaze into his friends. Mortaziel froze for a moment, sweat rolling down his forehead, then gripped his sword tightly, his hands trembling and knuckles white. He felt a shiver down his spine. Then, in a flash, he breathed, gathered his strength, and swung his blade in a quick, educated move. The blade pierced the creature’s heart. He tried pulling it out, yet it remained unmovable; his expression shifted as he pulled harder; the sword was stuck in the monster’s chest. The monster, its expression twisted in a mad rage, raised its arm to free itself, and Mortaziel, startled, gathered all his strength, pulled the sword out and backed off, barely escaping the attack. He then got back into position, lifted his sword, dashed forward and spun as he swung the sword. A heavy thud was heard as the abomination’s bloody head rolled down the floor, and its body, now lifeless, fell in a loud crash, elevating a cloud of dust.
Mortaziel sighed as he contemplated the body; it felt weird: he didn’t feel victorious but overwhelmed. His empty eyes were fixated on the bloody weapon, looking with disgust at the blood of the beast. He loosened the grip on his sword and let it go in a metallic cacophony. He felt a weird weight fall on his shoulders, so sudden he fell on his knee, a numbing sadness filled his heart. He looked at the blood around him; he has seen worse, yet this one had a different weight.
Shouting and screaming everywhere. His friend’s sad, broken voice filled his ears as he tried to stand up. His friend was approaching him, a hatred so intense in his eye that Mortaziel felt it burning his own eyes. His head was spinning, the world blurring around him, and then darkness surrounded him just to be replaced by the peaceful view of the forest.
"What a memory," Mortaziel muttered as he awoke; his body drenched in sweat. "I guess it is what it is. So, tell me, dear friend, how long shall you haunt me?"
This was a recurring dream for the last month and it worried him, the memory of his downfall, the moment he killed his friend’s son that turned into a death abomination. But it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t change him, he just killed him before he got too strong; after all he was fueled by death magic and if he left him alone, each kill would have gotten him stronger.
He stood up and proceeded towards the south. The sun pierced through the heavy branches of trees, sending warm rays of sunshine into the ground. The birds were singing some of the greatest melodies ever – at least according to him, and the forest seemed happy after the harsh winter finally finished. He removed his mask, reveling a young man’s face, he was pale and had heterochromatic eyes one being crimson red and the other being in a pale grey. He squinted at the sun’s rays and the scar across his pale eye looked more intriguing.
Mortaziel heard a low worried whimper behind him, he turned back and looked at the worried umbra wolf behind him, pointing out his scar.
“Don’t worry, Maximus, it doesn’t hurt anymore, he said, after all it has been a very long time since I had it.”
He ventured deeper into the forest until he saw a huge gate, guarded by a couple guards. He moved toward it and tried to get in the city guards stopped him.
“State your business here, stranger.”, said one of the guards in a strong tone.
“It’s none of your concern, but I’m here to see your leader”, Mortaziel answered, a tired look in his eyes.
“As if, giggled the guard, the leader is busy, and we don’t welcome visitors, so get lost.”
The guards stepped forward and closed his path with their spears. Mortaziel sighed and tried to push through. The guards, startled, attacked him. He stepped back slowly and in a swift movement, caught one of their necks. He continued: “One more movement and I snap his neck.”
The other guard lowered his weapon and said: “Are you crazy, you do know this is the territory of the Verdant Guardian, it will destroy you if you kill someone in its area.”
Mortaziel threw the guard onto the ground and pulled a dark dagger from his back. The dagger was shining under the sun as Mortaziel stood there, provocatively: “Let me worry about the Verdant Guardian, you worry about your lives.”
The guard coughed as he stood up, visibly shaken: “Just who are you? To think you can beat one in a fight, you’re either a strong man or a poser, but either way, he picked up his spear, you aren’t entering.”
Mortaziel smiled as he got ready to attack. Suddenly, a voice ordered from behind the guards: “Enough, don’t act like a child, Mortaziel.”
Mortaziel looked up, returned his dagger back and declared: “Come on, Zuhayr. Don’t be a buzzkill, I was just about to have some fun with our young friends here.”
“Follow me”, countered Zuhayr, his expression not showing any signs of shock or annoyance to Motaziel’s reply.
Mortaziel gave an annoyed glance towards the guards and shrugged his shoulders. He followed the old man through the lively city of Shifara, the only metropolis of the country, bearing the same name. Houses were arranged in a neat, picturesque manner, offering a gorgeous view. Everything was mostly green with a gorgeous splash of yellow. Children were playing in the main square surrounded by the Vitalisian, a unique breed of cats touched by life magic. They soon panicked as they saw Mortaziel, with adults shooting him scornful glares. Some of the elders approached Zuhayr, murmuring something to him while giving a disapproving looks to the death wilder. Zuhayr dismissed them with a commanding gaze and turned back to Mortaziel who seemed unbothered, his expression contemplative. “He’s probably used to it by now.” though Zuhayr to himself.
They proceeded to the main building of the city, a massive tower crafted from black rock, contrasting with the rest of the city. Some plants were growing over the old broken walls of its cold outside, and numerous openings served as windows to allow daylight to get in. Two guards stood watch at the gate with their dogs, looking menacing with their swords, pike, guns and zweihanders.
“Well for a country that doesn’t want to meddle with magicless humans, you sure are employing a good number of them.” jested Mortaziel.
“Don’t act like it’s new, you little obnoxious runt,” replied Zuhayr in a playful yet calm tone, “you know the rules, us life wielders can’t harm anyone using our powers.”
“I always found that rule stupid and meaningless if you ask me.”
“If I recall well, you saw multiple examples of people that broke that rule, am I wrong Mortaziel.”
“Well not totally, you don’t know what I saw, especially as someone who’s been through multiple battles.”
That last line caught Zuhayr off-guard, a disoriented view on his face, “could he have seen a life user survive after using their powers to hurt someone.” He gazed down into the unseen scar in his chest. “That’s impossible, I’ve tried it myself.” He was sweating and felt like the world had stopped for a few seconds, then he decided that it was just a stupid comment said by Mortaziel and changed the course of his thoughts.
They continued onward, entering the tower under the scrutiny of the guards, their eyes burned into him, heavy with unspoken judgment. But it was to be expected, after all, death wielders are a rare sight in these parts of the lands of Aeterna, and they were heavily hated and disdained by everyone for their hideous crimes, past and ongoing.
After a long spiraling set of stairs, they arrived to Zuhayr’s office. It was luxurious and beautiful with plants all over the place, some paintings hung into different walls displaying gorgeous views or his family members. A big chair made out of Veydris Cedar, a unique breed of cedar trees touched by life magic, exhuming a gorgeous floral scent, represented his chair and throne as the leader of Shifara, while a big dark desk, made out of the same material as the chair, had a bunch of documents and pens. Mortaziel shivered a bit after smelling that odor, his face showing unease and hatred, a dark, terrifying halo enveloped the room, making everyone within feel an overwhelming sense of dread, and the guards posted in front of Zuhayr’s office almost fainted because of its strength. Mortaziel noticed that, diminished his presence, pulling back the oppressive feeling from the room. “Sorry, bad memories.” commented Mortaziel. There were two other chairs in front of the desk for visitors, but they were way less luxurious and made of normal cedar wood. Mortaziel sat in one of the normal chairs, while Zuhayr sat on his throne. They looked at each other for brief moments then the old life user said:
“Are you never going to tell me the reason why you hate Veydris Cedar Mortaziel, it always was weird for me that you hated this specific wood.” noticed Zuhayr, his voiced laced with curiosity.
“Some things are better left buried Zuhayr, replied Mortaziel, his voice flat, it reeks of things that I’d rather forget.”
Zuhayr contemplated him for a hot minute, then nodded.
“Agreed. Anyways, let’s return to the matter at hand.”
“You’d better, Mortaziel said, I need an explanation for you dragging me from the north all the way to here. Do you know how long it takes.”
Zuhayr scoffed: “Stop with the whining we both know that it takes you practically no time to get between places, and since you mentioned it, what were you doing in the unlivable lands of the Ashen Reach? Visiting a friend?”
Mortaziel left out an exasperated breath: “Yeah, he muttered, I was visiting my friends.”
Zuhayr lifted an eyebrow but didn’t press further: “Anyways, the reason I called you is because our rangers found a Deathroot.”
Mortaziel’s expression darkned as his jaw clenched: “Any contaminated people yet?” his voice carried a dangerous edge “And where is the Deathroot, I’ll work on removing it.”
Zuhayr’s expression was tense and he went: “Calm your horses, it’s in the far southwest of the forest, in the area where the mountain and it’s water source meets with the forest.”
Mortaziel gave him a perplexed look: “Didn’t you just describe the Eldertide falls, why not just say it.”
“What is life without a little mystery.” joked Zuhayr.
Zuhayr nodded slightly, leaned back into his chair, deeply looked into a huge tome in his desk. “It’s better if we get moving before the issue gets serious.” Mortaziel proceeded towards the door, then he turned slightly into his left just like if he was checking something. He reached out for the dagger linked with a red rope to his torso pulled half of it out. In a swift move, he slashed in his left, leaving a huge mark on the wall, in contrast of the size of the weapon used. He then mimicked choking someone. Zuhayr was taken back and he reached out to a sword under his desk when his expression changed. A crow showed up in Mortaziel’s hand, and Mortaziel squeezed harder, forcing the crow to go back to its original form. It was a young boy, around five years old, his eyes were of full tears and looked to Mortaziel with pity and pain. This last one decided to ignore the kids' eyes, loosened his grip a bit. He slightly smiled and gave him a nod launching him to the wall. In a flash, he put his dagger on the kids’ throat just a bit above the skin, and growled: “What are you doing here kid.”
“Let him go Mortaziel, demanded Zuhayr, he’s just a kid, he might be lost”
“I think I asked you a question, ordered Mortaziel, unless you have a death wish ready.”
“My friends are going to the Deathroot’s location now and harvest its hidden power, said the kid while letting out a laugh, you won’t be getting that whole power for yourself.”
“You’re stupid, that thing is a curse, it could kill you, shouted Zuhayr, and Mortaziel put him down he’s just a kid.”
“Stay out of this Zuhayr, commanded Mortaziel, while his crimson eye glowed like hellfire and the scar across his face illuminated as his face showed marks of hatred and anger, I’ll make sure your friends will regret it, and you kid have no idea how close to death you are.”
Zuhayr was shocked but did nothing. “I can’t face him right now, and the state he’s in, he might easily obliterate this tower out of existence”. Mortaziel then stepped back, summoned his scythe out of thin air. It was a black scythe with heavy crimson veins running through it. He attacked the kid in a slow, strong, vertical circle just to be halted by a tree root stopping his weapon. Mortaziel slowly removed his scythe and with a flick of his wrist, it faded into nothingness. It was Zuhayr. Mortaziel gave him a concerned look.
“Calm down and just leave, muttered Zuhayr, I’ll catch up to you after throwing this rascal to prison.”
“A crimson eye and a scythe, said the kid, his face showing a terrified expression, you’re not any death wielder, you’re “The Reaper of All Worlds”. This can’t be. You can’t catch up to my friends, I already told them to run.”
Mortaziel looked at the kid let out an amused grunt, put back his mask and went: “Funny enough, I could. And you knew who I was from the start, didn’t you?”.
“How did he figure that one out, Mortaziel thought, who is he working for?”
Then he proceeded to leave Zuhayr’s office. He gave one last look to the kid and said: “I hope your friends got the message.” then disappeared in a burst of darkness.
Zuhayr fell into his chair, astonished then looked at the kid and went: “You’re lucky he’s in a good mood.”
The kid looked with disbelief: “That’s him being in a good mood!!”
Zuhayr rolled his eyes and started guiding the kid towards the prison. Once that task finished, he rushed to catch up with Mortaziel.
