Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave looked up at two great stone owls, hanging over the entrance to the Order’s hub in Mateth like gargoyles that were a quarter as scary. Argrave thought that owls were far too rotund and bizarre to ever be as scary as the other birds.

“Just wait out here, if you would,” Argrave directed Galamon. “I think they only let Acolytes and higher inside the Order itself. Annoying, but what can you do?”

“Understood,” said Galamon.

Argrave bit his lip a little. “Just find a quiet place. I’m sure some ignorant people might be troubled by a Veidimen standing right out front the—”

“I know,” Galamon interrupted.

After a nod, wave, and a wink, Argrave entered the Order’s Mateth branch. As long as he had one of the badges of the Order—his was a copper owl marking him as an Acolyte, kept in his leather gear’s chest pocket—he could enter the premises freely. Without the badge, one would be restricted by some particularly powerful enchantments.

This place was much less busy than the Tower of the Gray Owl. The Tower was a bona fide school, with instructors and students abounding. The branches throughout the major cities in Berendar were more like libraries, with only minimal services needed by wizards. Mostly, it referred members of the Order to private businesses that would fulfill their arcane needs.

Argrave ducked beneath the doorframe and stepped into the administrative office, where a brunette woman busily tended to papers. She looked up when she saw Argrave approach.

“How may I help you, sir?” she asked drearily.

“Hello, Miriam. Nice to see you again.” Argrave said, recognizing her. “I am here to inquire about the results of the Acolyte graduations.”

“O-oh,” she stuttered, coming to attention. Argrave wondered why for a minute, only to catch her looking up at his face. What is she…? Oh. I know her name, but she doesn’t know mine. She thinks she forgot we met before. I see. Argrave suppressed a smile with his gloved hand. He’d stumbled onto a fun new hobby—making people uncomfortable by knowing random details about them.

“The results arrived by owl early this morning. I can tell you the results, but you’ll have to go see Bern to get a Wizard’s badge.” She shifted some papers aside and pulled out a slightly crinkled parchment. “That is, if you passed, sir.”

“And? Did I?” Argrave pressed gleefully.

“Erm…” Miriam’s eyes darted to the paper, and at Argrave’s face. He could practically hear the gears turn in her head, desperately trying to remember a name she’d never heard. “Perhaps you’d best look for yourself, sir.” She handed the paper to him, escaping the pitfall Argrave had set up. He clicked his tongue and took the paper.

Argrave didn’t need to look for long before he found his name. It was at the very top of the paper, beneath a label glamorously decorated with gold and stars reading, ‘Special Consideration.’ A few other names were below and above his—Mina of Veden, Reichard, and Svetlana of Quadreign. All of them were powerful spellcaster characters in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’

“’Special consideration,’” Argrave said, angling the paper. “What does this mean for me?”

value to the Order beyond a mere advancement from Acolyte to Wizard. Some of the High Wizards of the Order

Infusion], and I left plenty out of my concept of [Blood Infusion]. I don’t think they’ll be able to complete the research independently

still get my recognition as a Wizard, right?” Argrave asked, brows

atop her desk. “Unfortunately, until the process is

Miriam. “Look at me,

of the money I made selling that horse. I can’t purchase from some sellers without the badge of a Wizard of the Gray Owl. Argrave lost himself in thought at this wrench

with that, little brother,” came a warm, pleasant voice from behind Argrave. Chills ran

it was far less gaunt. He had obsidian hair and bright blue eyes. His clothing was black, highlighted with gold and studded with gems tastefully. On his collar, sleeves, and shoulders, a sewn symbol depicted

of King Felipe III and heir to the throne. He was also the last person Argrave wished to

sat on creaked loudly. He

troubled haste, for he smiled a little. “Maybe I shouldn’t call you ‘little’ brother anymore, seeing as you’re taller than even me,” he joked with all the geniality a normal, sane

pause. The words were insincere.

agreed with a nod. He stood from the doorframe. “Come, now. We should speak in private. I believe I can

incredibly arbitrary. Worse yet, he was both a powerful warrior and a great mage. He was a High Wizard in the Order of the Gray Owl,

was petty. Unlike his other siblings, though, his revenge was more insidious. He

walked out of the administrative office and led the two of them to a room on the second floor. Two royal guards stood, a man and a woman, both guarding the room diligently. Their gold armor shone resplendently, shining both because of the metal and the powerful enchantments inlaid atop it. That armor could resist much of the damage caused by magic and furthermore strengthened their physical capabilities. Even

the manager of the Mateth branch of the Order, and the branch manager stood off to the side in grey-white robes, hands clasped behind his back.

brother’ dropped now that they were in privacy. “After all the trouble I went out in choosing a gift for you, I find that you’ve returned it

beside the chair across from the desk without sitting. “What do you want me to say, Prince Induen? The gift did not fit. I’ve grown much since

with me,” Induen retorted, sitting down in the branch manager’s chair. He gestured to the seat beside Argrave,

to talk. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s talking. Argrave thought. After obeying Induen’s command to sit, Argrave waited

leaned back in the chair casually. “Even if you did not want it, you shouldn’t have returned it.” His icy blue eyes stared Argrave

during my time at the Tower of the Gray Owl that Nikoletta was no threat to

exhaled. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the branch manager’s

sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. This was a tidbit of lore that Argrave did not know. Fortunately, Induen’s question

died giving birth to me. Growing up, our father told me, ‘Love makes a man weak. Without your mother, you will be stronger,’” Induen said, lowering his voice in impression of King Felipe III. “Our mothers are the most

killing people’s parents in front of them. One of the other main character’s story revolved around seeking revenge for their parents.

Nikoletta of Monticci, brother?” Induen asked,

cousin, at that.” And she’s a messy

I COULD EVEN BEGIN TO CONSIDER…!” Induen slammed his fist on the desk and inhaled deeply, then muttered quietly, “…how you could act so