Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave sat up, breath rapid and face drenched in sweat. His body was rocking. He looked around, seeing an unending tide of blue. Feeling a rising blackness in his stomach, he turned over, grabbing the side of something wooden and vomiting into the water. The putrid substance slowly faded away, falling into the ocean and drifting behind them.

He took a second to catch his breath, clearing his nose and spitting out what little remained of the vomit. His whole body was aflame with pain. As his senses came to, he heard a rhythmic chant, and saw oars moving back and forth, cutting through the water. He turned his head, finally making sense of his surroundings. His body rocked back and forth with the tides.

He was on a longship. Though he looked around, trying to spot the coast, they were far out into sea. He turned his gaze back to the ship. The Veidimen rowing the boat looked at him and spoke of him, muttering about ‘the Hand Reaching from the Abyss.’ It seems the lie of him being an agent of Erlebnis had spread.

Anneliese sat adjacent from him, staring with a book in her free hand. Her amber eyes were passive.

“We’re taking you to Veiden, as was agreed. Fortunately, though you burned one ship and I crashed the other, one was left in sailing condition,” Anneliese said in greeting. “You passed out. You should eat food, drink fluids.”

Argrave touched his head. A fierce headache disturbed his thoughts. The memories of the battle soon replaced those uncomfortable images born of his dreams, and he looked around for Galamon.

“Where… how is Galamon?” Argrave asked.

“He dispatched those metal things admirably. His actions spared us much carnage. After, he said he would wait for your return to right his wrongs. His life would be forfeit in Veiden as an exile and a vampire.”

Argrave nodded. He felt very shaken. He had mustered a courage he did not know he had during the battle, but whatever was propping up his mentality now was gone. War was cruel. It was a great song to all the misery in the world.

Anneliese walked to him, thrusting a piece of bread and a canteen of water in his face. “Here,” she said.

Argrave looked up at her. He took the items. “I forgot. You have a big heart.”

He chewed on the bread slowly, taking small sips of water. Content that he was eating, Anneliese walked away. With his free hand, Argrave cleaned the dirt off his body, conjuring his barely replenished magic to remove blood, mud, and other such filth. It felt like he was shedding his sins, somewhat.

After he had finished the bread, Anneliese handed him other things—mostly vegetables, but it was food. It had probably been taken from Barden in haste as they left. There were a lot fewer on the boat than he recalled being at Barden, and the thought that some deaths could have been avoided had he remained conscious disquieted him. Argrave ate his food slowly, working on suppressing his meandering thoughts and emotions.

Anneliese read quietly despite the rocking of the ship. One hand tended to her long white hair, twisting it about in her fingers. She was braiding a section of it with one hand alone, fingers moving skillfully. She had already done near a foot, and considering it went down to her knees when she was standing, it would be a long process.

at her face to see she’d taken

fright?” Argrave asked, sitting a little straighter. “Keep going. It was

down to her knee. “Galamon bit

was hurt. It was necessary,”

about contracting vampirism?” she tilted her

of it. “Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t like a disease. It’s more so a ritual. It’s hard to be turned by accident. That’s

him, despite what happened?” Her amber eyes stayed locked on

Argrave repeated.

much too shaken, much too guilty, for that. Your body was bruised from being grabbed. You also fell

face. “You keep seeing through me, I’m going to start losing confidence in my grifting abilities. They’ve carried me a long way.” Argrave sat up a little straighter as his feelings of weakness faded somewhat. His arms felt like pudding and his head still

so it wasn’t exactly philanthropy for the thirsty, I’ll admit that much. But…” Argrave pointed at Anneliese to emphasize his words. “I don’t hate him. Hate, at least in terms of hating people, stems from a lack of understanding; an inability to view the other person’s perspective. Ultimately, hating

“Recognizing that and following it are entirely different matters, though. Everyone inevitably succumbs to their

in silence. The waves of the ocean battered against the longship, and Argrave turned his head out to look out across the ocean. He considered falling in for a moment and his mind wandered. The ocean was a terrifying thing looking at it from above, but once inside, it offered an unparalleled freedom. Swimming in all directions—up, down, left, right—it must be mundane for a fish, but for a landlubber as he was, it sounded enticing.

“I think you’re right.”

his head back to Anneliese. She was smiling faintly. It was the first time Argrave had seen her smile, and he could not help but return it. They stared at each other for a

the Patriarch?” Anneliese inquired, shutting her book

the agent of Erlebnis and the killer of those druid scouts in order to get an audience with Dras to begin with. From there, I’ll demonstrate the breadth of my knowledge. I remember a prophecy I can use, some vague... in fact, maybe

this matter. He's a very unreasonable person, but he's not inflexible. If I give

taken aback about what he disclosed. “How much do you know about the Patriarchate

words fell flat, Anneliese watching him blankly. "Though I can’t say I know every detail about every person,

say something. “Knowing so much

try to hide. You see through

After some time, she asked,

this? ‘Because she asked’ would be the obvious answer, but then the further question would be why

mused. “Perhaps it’s merely therapeutic to finally share a little bit of what’s going on inside my head. Who better to be honest with than someone who can see past this façade I

the side

uncomfortable.” She let