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

<p>A confused, '-devil,' escaped Éclair's already stunned expression. The second requirement for the mind to the process was foreshadowed by Igna waltzing into the private lounge. He gave a simple yet meaningful smile – guards at the door slid to the side. The silvery handle, warm to the touch, opened into a scene ripped from a movie, not that Igna' had seen what was in vogue at the cinemas. Rationalizations aside, he entered with confidence and an allure that instantly pulled on the neighboring table. Openness projected grandness ending at the big windows thrown upon the Rotherham townscape. Blimps in the night sky fluttered to and fro, planes, helicopters, and secret military projects.  </p>

<p>  "What do you mean, devil?" the prime minister dragged behind the headstrong Igna, voluptuously bicolored pupils sought left and right top and back for a glimpse of Elvira's coffee-colored hair and slightly tanned complexion.  </p>

“Wait and watch, auntie,”