Magika [Completed]

Chapter 24

Immortality wasn't so great. The longer you live, the longer you prosper, they said. That might have been true for a very small minority, but for everyone else? The longer they lived, the longer they suffered.

But at least there was an equalizer. One called death that came for them all eventually. Being immortal certainly helped with putting it off. However, being immortal didn't translate to being invincible, and some of Aldeheid's ilk seemed to forget that.

But not him.

He still remembered, clear as day, the moment he met death – the bone-chilling cold, the aches and pains that seemed to tear at his very soul. A gambit of emotions had ran through him, from regret to anger to hopelessness and finally defeat. Then, death had come.

She wasn't anything like he'd imagined – not ugly or cold or menacing. Her eyes were like a starry night sky, and a wavy mane of ebony hair framed her youthful face. The aura emanating from her form had warmed him like morning sunshine.

He remembered she had a little white dragon perched on her arm. Its long tail had curled around her forearm as it clung tightly to a single red gem. He remembered thinking Wenry would be enamoured by the sight of it.

Aldeheid hadn't felt afraid or even angry. No, he was over the moon, for the respite of death was welcomed after days of suffering. He'd begged and pleaded for her to take him, but she'd only shook her head.

And left him there. Alone. Cold. Aching.

He hated her, the cruel, heartless witch that she was. All she did was take. And hurt. And leave the living to suffer.

It was days when the air was ripe with a bitter chill that Aldeheid remembered her – beautiful death. Their fifth morning on the passenger vessel heralded such a day, and as he walked the narrow passages of the ship, he was silently cursing her.

A harsh cold had rolled in overnight, seeping into everything it touched. It made shoulders hunch and heads bow as though it were some tangible weight trying crush them. But it was no natural phenomenon, and Aldeheid had known that from the moment he touched his gear. It had been warm; it still was, compensating for the frigid air. Enchanted gear only reacted when magic was involved.

Dread was like a lead weight in his gut and his hand kept drifting towards his sword. He rounded the corner to head up to the deck and something crashed into him. To him, it felt like nothing more than a small bump, but the human child fell backwards and landed hard on her rear.

She pushed her red braids from her face, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Aldeheid softened his features and gave a small smile. "I'm sorry, it seems I've gotten in your way." He knelt and helped her to her feet before righting her clothes.

A blush coloured her face and she said something in a language he couldn't understand. When he scrunched up his brow, she pointed to his eye and said: "Pretty."

He grinned. "Thank you very--" His words were cut off when the boat jerked to one side. He threw one hand out to catch the wall and the other to catch the child. A wave of nausea made his stomach roil but he swallowed a few times to keep its contents at bay.

When the boat was sitting right again, he exhaled with relief. And then he felt it again – the deep foreboding that made gooseflesh rise on his skin. He glanced over his shoulder out of habit, but only saw the empty hall he'd walked through.

The child whimpered and hugged herself with shaking arms, her bottom lip trembling.

"It's alright," Aldeheid said in as level of a voice as he could muster. He knelt down to her eye level and fished a few ether stones from his pouch. "Here."