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>Drinks on drinks. Rather, jug after jug if it were to be within the heavenly realm. Igna and Lucifer drank till the stock bordered its limits. There was a breeze of fresh air, the air-conditioning system. The dance floor remained silently save its light – part of him thought it was motion control, a theory with no merit to test. 'Now that I sit here with him, just who is Lucifer anyway?'</p>

<p>  "Did you say something?" the fallen angel turned, "-you have a strange look about you," he uttered with a visible alcoholic stench, "-your face asking me to tell my secrets," he lit a cigarette then sighed, "-I wonder man, what is wrong with me or you. We sit here as if nothing happened. Suppose things do end up this way when you are faced with the haunting reality of never dying. Immortality is not something to play around with, well, it's depressing at best and saddening at worst."</p>

‘-you’re the Reaper, take us to the end.’