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?”

Miriam answered. “Acolytes entered for ‘Special Consideration’ have submitted something that has value to the Order beyond a mere advancement from Acolyte to Wizard. Some of the High Wizards

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

as

her hands atop her desk. “Unfortunately, until the process is finished,

“Look at me, so special, barred from getting the only thing I came here

that horse. I can’t purchase from some sellers without the badge of a Wizard of the Gray Owl. Argrave lost himself

pleasant voice from behind Argrave. Chills ran up Argrave’s spine the second he processed who

slowly. A man leaned against the doorframe. He was tall, lithe, and well-built. His face had a strong resemblance to Argrave’s, though 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 a golden snake weaved around a sword—the symbol

to the throne. He was also the last person

loudly. He placed his hand

Induen was fond of Argrave’s 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 older

a pause. The words were insincere. Being this tall was terribly inconvenient, as a matter of

a nod. He stood from the doorframe. “Come, now. We should speak in private. I believe I can help you regarding that

a powerful warrior and a great mage. He was a High

Argrave flattered. Being with Induen would be dangerous but refusing him would be even more so. He was petty. Unlike his other siblings, though, his revenge was more insidious. He enjoyed torturing people psychologically. Argrave considered

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

Order, and the branch manager stood off to

Argrave,” began Induen, the endearing term of ‘little brother’ dropped now that they were in privacy. “After all the trouble I went out in choosing a

little closer, standing 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 you last

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

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

casually. “Even if you did not want it, you shouldn’t have returned it.” His icy blue eyes stared Argrave down. “It makes me question

at the Tower of the Gray Owl that Nikoletta was no threat to your succession. She is not a materialistic

took a deep breath, then exhaled. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the branch manager’s desk. “Do

and he sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. This was a tidbit of lore that Argrave did

Induen said, lowering his voice in impression of King Felipe III. “Our mothers are the most loving creatures in our lives. Their love makes us weak. I thought to teach you that lesson, as

nonsense, Argrave thought. You just get off to killing people’s parents in front of them. One of the other main character’s story revolved around seeking

you fallen in love with Nikoletta of Monticci, brother?” Induen asked,

“Of course not. She’s my cousin. First cousin, at that.” And she’s a messy person, not to mention a

on the desk and