Death and rebirth

My name is Isaac and I am the seventh son of a seventh daughter. I am a magician and a sorcerer. Some people say that I am immortal and that I have great powers. They are wrong about the first but not the second.

All my life I have been able to read and detect magic. Nobody had to teach me how to do it. It was an instinct deeply engraved on me since the day I was born, as was the ability to understand all languages and talk to beasts.

As I grew up, my skills also grew with me. My parents sent me with the only village magician, the elf Silver Ray, to become her apprentice.

She taught me to recognize the elements and imbue them in the mana. I absorbed her knowledge faster than she expected. To her astounding surprise I was compatible with most elements: Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Ice, Lightning, Poison, Wood, Metal, Light, Shadow, Smoke, Bone and Blood. Very soon, I learned most of her spells and how to create my own.

Silver Ray was very proud of me, even more than my own mother. The only thing that worried her was that she had discovered that I could also manipulate the dead mana. The dead mana was taboo for all elves, because they revere the cycle of life. It was said to be the mark of demons, devils and the undead.

But I was not one of those things, so Ray of Silver simply forbade me to use it at all, which did not cause me any problems. Anyway, I already had too many elements at my disposal. Then she showed me how to surround it with the energy of life and hold him inside me so it could not escape.

My dear teacher gave me her extensive knowledge without hiding anything. With her strict elven teachings, I not only learned magic but also studied the history and culture of this continent. But the most important thing is that I learned to be kind, responsible and to help others.

I followed her advice and recommendations (and also my mum's) with special fervor. At the age of three I rescued the neighbors' cat that was up on a tree. At four years old, I collected ingredients from the forest to help my cousin become one of the apprentices of the old Pastry Master. I was five when I found the lost kid of another neighbor and it was at six when I helped to rebuild the old village barn.

On the day of my seventh birthday, I indicate where to dig a well to get water in a dreadful drought. At the age of eight I used a spell to heal the broken leg of the mayor's son and it was a month before I turned nine when I put out a big fire on the towns hall's roof with my magic.

So it should not surprise anyone that my family had great expectations of me. Especially my mother. The proud woman believed that she was destined for something special. But it was not just about her. The truth is that everyone in town had their hopes placed on me. They thought that I would bring greatness to that place apart from the hand of the gods.

They were wrong.

What I brought was misfortune, in the form of the paladins of the Archbishop and the knights of the King. What came was death.

It all happened on the day I turned nine. My last brithday.

My family spared no expense for all the people to participate in the party. There were even some guests from the neighboring districts. Huge amounts of food and gifts were prepared. Laughter and dancing were constant among the guests. Everyone was happy.

The old Pastry Master of the town chose the occasion to prepare a Great Cake and announce his successor, who turned out to be one of my cousins. The Master Blacksmith presented his masterpiece, a mesh armor that had nothing to envy those made in the capital.

The Mayor, the Master Gardener and my dear father inaugurated a small but beautiful labyrinth that they hoped would become the main attraction of the town.

My beloved teacher Silver Ray launched the most beautiful fireworks that had ever been seen in that town. And I gave a demonstration of my powers that was applauded by all.

It was the happiest morning of my life.

But at night ...

They arrived, with their horses and sharp spears. The town was completely surrounded.

People asked the paladins and the knights what they were doing but did not give an answer. There were no warnings or explanations. Only the sentence of the king and the bishop. Death.

Death for all, without exceptions.

Elderly, children, pregnant women. The weak were the first to die. The murderers showed no mercy to anyone. There was no escape. Some tried to resist.

But what could the humble guards and hunters of the provincial town do against the elite of the kingdom's cavalry?

They were like ants in front of a pack of wolves.

Nothing could stop them, not even the magic of my teacher Silver Ray. They were simply too many enemies for her to achieve something. She died by the magic backlash, caused by the over exhaustion. She was lucky.

My family was not. I saw my father die with his head crushed by a mace. I saw my mother die, pierced in the belly by a spear. I saw my brothers die, trampled under the hooves of horses. And part of me died with them.

The part that died was the one that was in control. The part that died was the one that had strived since my birth so that the monster inside of me did not kill anyone. The monster of dead mana who was always angry. Relentless. Unmerciful.

Exactly like I was feeling that night.

I died that night with my family.

And thus, the Ardsheall was born.

Idiots. They were the cause of the same disaster they were trying to avoid.

The first to die were the horses. That way no one could escape my fury. Then I went for the paladins and the knights.

Nothing could stop me, not even when they pierced me with their spears or cut me with swords or trampled me with horses. I was only one but that was more than enough.

The wolves had become ants themselves. And I stepped on them completely.I did not need any weapons to do it. I was a magic weapon myself.

My hands (claws) wrapped in dead mana ripped out the heart, the spine and the head of the paladins. My sharp teeth (fangs) shattered his flesh and savored his insides as I feed on the bodies of the knights. I drank the blood from their veins to dry them completely. Every time someone died, the monster within me would feed on their souls and become stronger.

And part of me died with them.

My name is Isaac and I am the seventh son of a seventh daughter. I am a magician and a sorcerer. Some people say that I am immortal and that I have great powers. They are wrong about the first but not in the second.

What nobody says is that I am a monster. I am the Ardsheall.