Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stared up at a sheer wall of ice, the two suns above raining light down. The light travelled through the wall, illuminating it and sending rainbow-colored rays in odd directions. Though the light made it seem magical, Argrave was searching for enchantments without success. It was a wonder such a thing could persist throughout the ages without help from magic; a hundred-foot-tall wall made of ice could not be a simple endeavor.

He reached a hand out and touched the blue ice. Even through his gloves, he could feel the cold. It emanated outwards, and he pulled away his fingers as though he’d just touched dry ice. Even with the sunlight above, it did not melt, it did not morph, and it did not fall, protecting against the snow for thousands of years. Perhaps there was some irony in that; the greatest bulwark against the cold was cold.

Argrave heard footsteps behind, and he turned to spot Anneliese. The capital of Veiden lay before him; unlike the previous city of Katla, the eponymously named capital Veiden was made of stone. It was ancient, too. The buildings were carved, each one depicting some sort of historical scene. It looked more a ruin than a city, yet snow elves abounded nonetheless, joyfully participating in the suffering of the world.

“I’ve found their home,” Anneliese began, walking to him. “Galamon’s family lives not so far from here, according to the locals. Do you truly intend to visit them?”

“I do,” Argrave nodded, tapping his cane against the ground. He gestured for Anneliese to lead onwards, and they moved through the city slowly.

“I didn’t expect this place to be so… developed,” Argrave commented. “I hear the word ‘tribe,’ the mind thinks of backwards people. But this place is truly just a civilization separate from Berendar. I suppose a people capable of sailing and using steel have no reason to be simple.” He gazed at some of the stone carvings as he passed.

“The city of Veiden was carved from a glacier formed atop a mountain,” Anneliese spoke quickly. “Thousands of years of history have been etched into the stone here. Even then, we Veidimen were using steel. We have never been a technologically stunted people; we have only been divided and lacking resources. Now, that has changed.”

Argrave turned his head to Anneliese. He was very curious about her motivations, her goals, her likes, her dislikes. She liked to stay neutral and passive in conversation, but she seemed to genuinely care about Veiden. They shared a common interest; a fascination with the world of ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ Hers was more scholarly, granted. I suppose I have plenty of time to learn about her, Argrave thought.

“Here,” Anneliese pointed, stopping them both. “That building.”

Argrave turned towards where she was pointing. It seemed a fairly nice home—large enough for a family to live, certainly. It was square and stone like most other buildings in this city, so it was difficult to judge if it was exactly well-off. Argrave stepped forward towards the stone door at the entrance, lifting his cane and tapping it thrice.

After a few moments, he heard faint footsteps on the other side of the door. A woman’s voice called out, “Who is it?”

“Hi. Is this the residence of Galamon’s wife?” Argrave called out.

After a few moments, the door peeked open. A deep purple eye sized him up. “You… aren’t a Veidimen.”

“I’m a friend of your husband’s.” Argrave tapped his chest. “I wanted to meet his family, see how you’re holding up.”

She opened the door wide, some amount of confusion and shock on her face. She looked rather young, and her face had a kind innocence to it, as though retaining all its childlike naivete. Her hair was a bright gold color and kept short. “You mean… on the human continent? You spoke to him?”

“He’s my retainer, though he’s presently not here for reasons I’m sure you can surmise.” Argrave nodded. “May we come in?”

Her eyes darted around, her mouth agape in surprise. “I never thought… Galamon, how is he? Did he look well? How has he been doing?” the questions poured out as her wariness immediately faded. “Oh, forgive me. Come in. My name is Muriem. My son is downstairs, I should…” her voice faded away as she ran into the house.

his nose, and then he entered, cane clicking against the stone. He tried to shut the door casually, but he

the basement. Behind her, Argrave saw a familiar-looking dour face. He was rather taken aback by how similar the snow elf looked to his father, Galamon. Argrave reckoned If the boy were to get some age lines, some scars, and possible post-traumatic stress

a seat,” Muriem beckoned.

#####

arms off her, and said, “Come on,” pulling her friend along with her as they rushed to the side of the bald old man that had just devastated the enemy mages. He was barely taller than Mina, but considering what he’d just done, Nikoletta approached with

young lady Monticci. I’d advise you to be careful. The warriors fell into the ocean, but many of those mages will surely not

“Thank the gods you came…” she brought a still trembling hand to her mouth. “Thank the gods…” She knelt down,

spell has expended my magic greatly. Now, we still have to deal with the rest. I have innumerable questions, but I will

she looked at the ground. “Right. I’m the ducal heir of House Monticci. I can’t be stopped by just this.” She stood. “There are invaders outside the walls, attacking

a jagged cut of lightning through the air. It struck her armor

hand, and a thin needle of fire shot out of a quickly formed

to safety. The forces are broken,

just abandon things, run away. I have a duty as the ducal heir!” she

we do

don’t… damnit.” Nikoletta’s

if the death of Duke Enrico’s daughter was not a potential outcome of every spell tossed my way.” The Tower Master

to the building close to what

mage near him, and I am not incautious. He should be fine. Now go,

Mina

Nikoletta conceded, nodding. “But not to safety. Back to the wall. Those elves outside will

robes and pulled free a decadent black whistle. “If you’re so committed to that idea, take this. With it, you can call my wyvern. Blow it twice

in her hand, and then clenched it tight. “Thank you, Master Castro. House Monticci owes you the

hesitantly nodded, and then the two ran away from the docks, weaving into the city. Some of the people that had previously locked themselves in their homes were emerging, moving about in panic from the tremendous impacts. Most ran away from the docks. Mina and Nikoletta

had called for pushed their way past. Nikoletta opened her mouth to call out to them, but then decided they would still be best suited near the docks than at the walls. The wyvern would be a game-changer. She clenched it tighter in hand, her other hand holding Mina by the arm so they

way to the walls once more. Nikoletta ran up the stairs, winded but persistent in her path to the top. When she made it to the top, she paused to catch for breath while surveying the scene. There were a lot more dead now than when she left—axes, javelins, and arrows sticking out from their cold

red-haired mercenary, Melanie, turned her head back to look at Nikoletta. She’d taken up a bow, her sword resting

the bowstring. She ducked behind one of

Mina bristled, but Nikoletta stopped

of breath for a long reprimand. “Later.” She stepped forward, minding that she did not reveal her head above the

had to deal with