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

"Mist Flyers," rang about the channel, "-the monsters are here. What are the next orders, Meza?"

"Evacuate," proclaimed he loudly, "-we mustn't fight this battle." Blinding red lights firmed atop the gates and spun with beeps to marked the shutting of gates. With barely time left, Meza and Jonl slid under the metal sheet. Dust in the mouth and pebbles against the cheeks, they stood to a completely devastated first aid. Those of the healing ability ran about checking on others. Earlier, after the injured were taken for aid, they turned and attacked, a brave fighter of squad 28, stood ground, used an ability to imprison the monsters, and self-destructed. Survivors sat underneath a feeble shelter; a cough would crumble the roof.

"Here," a bottle came into sight, "-drink up, you must have been through a lot."

"Water," she cared none for who gave and gulped, *cough, cough.*

True Demonlord [31]