Jackal Among Snakes

A few days had passed. After cashing the banknote and opening an account in the local bank, Argrave stayed at a fairly expensive inn in Mateth that valued order and cleanliness—virtues he found it difficult to live without, especially given the strenuous circumstances he had been through in the past few days. It was easy to overcome his mysophobia when faced with the very unappealing prospect of being held hostage in opposition to King Felipe III, but now that the danger had passed, he cleaned himself up.

Margrave Reinhardt would not waste the time to send men to find Argrave, he knew. Getting to his brother Bruno was far more important to the Margrave than securing a hostage. Argrave did not fear retribution overmuch. His relationship with the Parbons could never be repaired, though. An unfortunate happening, but it was unavoidable.

He had changed his well-to-do aristocratic clothes for firmer leather clothing—a shirt, boots, gloves, et cetera. Waiting for them to be custom fitted to his considerable height had been the only thing delaying his departure, in truth. It was vaguely armored, but Argrave did not trust his weak body to support full leather armor.

Once they were made, he left expediently from Mateth’s western gate, following the road along the coastline for a time. He watched the ships coming and going from the docks in Mateth. Some things remained unchanged. The smell of the salt brought back memories of Earth. There was the unfamiliar, too—the smell of an otherworldly city, the sound of the people and carriages moving on the road, a caravel sailing the open sea, the pounding of a blacksmith’s hammer from behind the city’s stark white walls…

Argrave sighed in wistful homesickness, and then walked towards his destination. He strayed from the roads, walking across the plains leisurely. Despite his blustering to Robarr, there would be no bandits or foul beasts so close to the city, and his destination was not far.

He walked across the plains until he began to see stumps left by lumberjacks, and then he walked beyond those until he entered the forest untouched by civilization. The trees were tall here, ancient, and their leaves so dense not a speck of the dying sunlight made it through. It was not long before his only company was the animals and his thoughts.

Argrave was certain he was on the right track when he noticed the trees changing. Their bark became darker, as though winter emanated from deeper in the forest. The leaves went from bright green to a deep, rich color. The air itself seemed to change color.

“Rather ominous in person,” Argrave commented to no one in particular.

He stopped at a particularly tall and thick tree, likely the oldest in the forest. He stared at it for a time, brows furrowed, but eventually moved around to the back. He nodded when he found what he was looking for.

A set of stairs had been carved into the roots of the old tree. It led up to a hollow portion in the base of the trunk that seemed to have been chiseled away in an age long since passed. Mushrooms grew at points, like shelves in the alcove. The carved hollow housed a stone shrine. It was but a table, a tablet, a quill made of stone, and a statue. The years had covered the stone with moss, giving much of the gray stone a greenish hue.

The statue was a grotesque thing. It depicted a malformed lump of meat vaguely resembling a head with a mouth possessing far too many teeth. It had two eyes but they were not in alignment, as though its face was melting and drooping away. Argrave kneeled down before the shrine.

Argrave picked up the stone quill and the tablet. He wrote on the tablet, ‘I seek wisdom beyond my years.’ It left no marks, but he was not surprised by this fact. He set the two items down, moved back a few feet, and waited contentedly.

The mouth of the statue split open, its stone teeth retracting back into its mock-gums. It widened further and further, acting more as flesh than stone. Then, a reddish, mercury-like portal spread out in the mouth from its throat. An arm emerged, skinny and long, and kept emerging; it could not be any shorter than ten feet. Then a stubby arm pushed its way out, grasping onto the statue, and the thing began to pull itself from the statue.

The emissary started to reveal itself in earnest. It was anthropomorphic, yet all of its limbs were strangely proportioned and its skin resembled exposed flesh after being flayed. Its eyes bulged in and out of the socket in rhythm with its breathing.

The dread emissary looked about the forest, not displaying any hostility. It stood awkwardly on one foot and its long arm because one of its legs was far too short. The emissary opened its mouth, revealing a set of pearly whites so straight they looked fake.

“This shrine amongst the ancient trees still sees worshippers? We had no idea.” The voice was very ordinary, entirely unbefitting of the creature itself.

“I suspect I am the first to come in many years,” Argrave answered calmly.

passively. “And why have you

Argrave stared

ineffectual, sure enough; however, the servants of Erlebnis knew magic far beyond what any order of mages might teach. Argrave recalled

now. He could sleep in the strange creature’s revolting arms and no harm would come to him. Such a situation was unlikely to happen, naturally, but the point stood. The emissaries only defended themselves from attack. They were neutral beings because they were fundamentally merchants. They only bartered, and their only

emissary nodded. “Like

finger up and shook it. “I come offering knowledge, in return for

you have wasted our time,” the emissary said levelly. “No knowledge possessed by one as young as

Oril Valar, and the Viirtulfyr that he stole from

birds, suddenly ceased to make any noise at all. Argrave could no longer hear even the subtle sounds made by his leather clothes as he moved. He felt his heart speed faster, but he could not hear it. Even if Argrave knew he was safe, it was difficult to stop the natural reaction to abrupt stimuli.

did not display any of its emotion on its voice—it might as well have been

was my intention,” Argrave responded, fortunately able to hear his own voice in this strange

into its head, leaving behind the same reddish-mercury portal from which the creature had originally emerged from. Argrave waited patiently, expecting this might happen—the emissary had returned

simpler terms, he was talking to his

the only thing that he could currently offer

in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ If one found out about the Viirtulfyr, one could offer that knowledge to Erlebnis. More simply, one could return the book directly. Hoarding this knowledge was useless to Argrave, as the Viirtulfyr only contained top-level spells beyond his ken that he had no ability to

the very high possibility of early-onset baldness from stress, he was tampering with a power that could very well lead to his insanity. A god was, fundamentally, impossible to understand. Ancient gods were further insidious and manipulative. He did not have the hubris the Greeks so loathed—Argrave knew his limits as a mortal and he was not certain

through my eye, Argrave. He will be very displeased if you are toying with us.” Argrave could not help but shudder—he had not mentioned his name, yet the emissary knew. Perhaps he should not be

in this deal,” the emissary continued. “You would be willing to submit to a spell to determine

the question, ensuring there were no loopholes in its phrasing. “As long as the spell only discerns truth from

valuable trait. And you

from your lord; the Blessing of Supersession, and it should be

period of five minutes. In effect, he would be granted unlimited magic during its duration—every emissary of Erlebnis had this ability, and it was precisely why they were such potent spellcasters. He would still be limited to whatever

magic, and he could not use the ability again until he had paid back his magic ‘debt.’ Ordinarily, one could not even use magic until they paid the debt back. The highest-quality Blessing of Supersession Argrave asked for removed that condition—one paid back the magic debt at their leisure and remained

stated his request, the emissary turned its eye to look at the portal where its other eye once

very high price,” the emissary said slowly. “Even amongst our lord’s direct mortal servants, few possess

against Oril Valar is deep, and I know well the value of Viirtulfyr. If I could retrieve it myself, I might. Alas, Oril Valar is a

of the highest quality, under the condition you answer three questions under a spell that differentiates truth from falsehood. In addition, the information

the conditions, but he was not entirely content. “Tell me the questions,

emissary raised its long arm, holding its hand close to its face as it counted down. “First, the location of Oril Valar in detail. Second, the location of

Argrave admitted where he originally came from even

the third question

the highest quality blessing,” the emissary answered quickly, almost anticipating his