Frostysyrup

Thrust into an enigmatic world born from bloodshed; venture inside its complexities, dark-side, and always changing nature. At the center, a boy; brought up by an exiled mage, steps into a life of independence. A test to try and change his life for the better after witnessing what war can do to a person. The walk towards finding a stable living gets toppled as a unique magical element awakens. Using people, toying with emotions, doing anything and everything to get what he wants, this is the life of the next Death Reaper. Mostly emotionless, life continues as questions about his state of mind and being remains clouded behind many personas.

This isn’t the story of a single man, it’s the story of a whole world. Read as the world builds itself from the ground up. Conspiracies, evil, the dark side of humanity. In addition, tis the start of a new age; the birth of monsters – a story depicting the tales of the first heroes and demons to ever exist. 

The Wielder of Death Magic isn’t a typical fantasy. The heroes don’t summon forth power from heroes of old, here, the characters are the ones who make up the myths and legends for the next generation. Amidst the turmoil, Staxius, he lives on, watching and waiting as the world grows. 

P.S, I’m not that normal of a writer, my advice is to not expect anything going into this world. Forget everything, I personally, don’t care about rules and limitations and what can be considered to be the norm – the characters are given life, the world moves on its own; I’m just a spectator. No plot, nothing planned, all that you read is the product of the characters moving and acting individually. As opposed to me subjecting them with my emotions, the connection is reversed. They are the ones who dictate the story (Believe it or not, that's the way I write) A world, a story, characters, and the foolish author; we all evolve as one. On behalf of the people mentioned above, thanks for reading, I appreciate it all.
[Cover is copyrighted by Sxperimental]

The Wielder of Death Magic

'Rest easy,' absurd as it was, the battle neared a conclusion. Few healers who survived joined with the rest of the marksman unit. They were pretty beat, a hobgoblin was disabled momentarily. 'My stamina is running low,' thought he walking at a fast pace.

"Who are you guys?" wondered one holding a rifle.

"Healers," sighed they tumbling onto the remains of pebble-field haven. Another came in striking range, the arms lifted, time froze for those at the receiving end, '-their weakness is the legs,' slid Igna cutting the tendons once more. *BANG.* a blast had it topple backward.

'Finish?' stood at the beast's head, it turned with a look of defeat, the monster eyes glimmered as a trapped being. 'Why do I feel so?' sword in hand, a downward thrust pierced the skin and severed the throat, '-may you be freed.' It bled to then implode leaving behind few coins and a tooth.

Sleeping one