Jackal Among Snakes

Come morning, Argrave had fully repaid the small debt he’d accrued to Erlebnis, enabling his use of the Blessing of Supersession once again. Their route to navigating the obstacles ahead was much clearer after a lengthy discussion. And, lastly, the Brumesingers spent the night gorging, turning their fur from a snow-white to an off-white.

The Brumesingers were magic creatures and had been living here for years, feasting on the high-quality souls of the dead southron elves in this tomb. It would be some time before they’d be able to conjure warriors of mist or traverse through the fog to reach any place imaginable. In time, the five-pound furballs would eventually become true forces of nature, especially if Argrave gave them good souls to eat.

“…so these runes are illusion magic?” Anneliese questioned, sitting cross-legged beside one of the coffins with runes across its lid.

“Yep. Between the sand door outside and the runes throughout this place, it’s clear the southron elves were masters of illusion magic. Southron elf illusions, no matter if you’re E-rank or S-rank, can’t be seen through. But… they’re a lot more limited,” Argrave explained, rubbing his finger across the glowing blue rune.

She nodded, staring. “…you didn’t sleep at all last night,” she said quietly, changing the subject.

“Couple hours, maybe. Not an unusual occurrence,” Argrave dismissed, standing. “What can I do? Cry?”

She also came to her feet. “You can talk about it,” she offered.

“What are you, my therapist?” Argrave shook his head with a grin. “We’ve got stuff to do. Let’s go meet with Yarra, rendezvous with the southron elves.”

“I just worry,” she shook her head. “Your habits were improving after we left the Low Way. Now…” she sighed defeatedly. “Now I question if you sleep worse. If you were sick again, I might heal you. This, though… I can do nothing but talk.”

Argrave bit his lip. He knew she was right, but that was only because he wasn’t blind to his own condition.

He stepped forward. “You know, they say if you improve your physical health, your mental health will improve in turn. All the more reason to hurry towards becoming Black Blooded.”

She smiled bitterly and nodded. “As you say. Let us go.”

#####

“Are you sure that you’re headed the right way?” asked Yarra, some of her confidence in Argrave diminished overnight.

“Yes,” confirmed Argrave brusquely, holding his compass in hand.

“Certain enough to stake your life?” she questioned. “The three of you ran out of food, and there is only wasteland ahead.”

The four ambulatory people in Argrave’s party trod across the dunes of the Burnt Desert. The town of Sethia had long faded behind the hills of distant black sand, and the only landmark still in sight was the tall, tall mountains.

“I’m certain,” Argrave confirmed, coming to a stop and glancing around before turning back to his compass. One of the Brumesingers poked its head out just by his neck, glancing around the vast expanse of black desert excitedly before retreating back into cover.

“How?” she questioned, stopping beside Argrave, her backpack—technically Argrave’s backpack—swaying briefly before settling.

“Eidetic memory,” he said, unfocused.

She shook her head

no, that wouldn’t make sense to you either. Doesn’t matter. Was a joke, anyhow.” Argrave shut the compass. “Should be around… somewhere.” His gaze scanned the distant mountains. After a time, he stopped scanning and his face lit up. “Ahah.

over the top of another dune, and just beyond, there was a relatively flat bit of sand. Almost perfect in the center of this flat plane, there was

sword, and then picked it up, stabbing it into the ground.

Argrave took a breath. He held his hand out, and then used water magic.

Yarra

Argrave said dismissively. “I’m taking us to the southron elves.” He turned his head to look at her. “Well,

nomadic people by this point, though, moving from abandoned settlement to abandoned settlement. Argrave would be sure that, even if things did go sour, the elves

his gaze. “Fellhorn permits violence against those that would conjure water with

gaze steady. “Permitting isn’t encouraging, you know,” he noted as the pool of water grew larger and larger,

encroach on His domain,” she pressed

the downpour stopped. “Are you going to stop me from doing what I

a Vessel of Fellhorn before a servant

breath. Part of him would be happy to be rid of this woman. They were alone, miles from Sethia, miles from any witnesses… and the woman was far too inhuman to warrant

and completely. No nonsensical excuse would repair the trust severed by his best Vessel’s death. It would be a stupid thing to do, and for the

would do,

resumed his task, growing the pool

are you doing?” questioned

blood, don’t w—oh.” Argrave

back on. Galamon stepped forward, retrieving one of his flasks. He removed the lid, then dropped the remainder of the blood inside it. Nothing odd seemed to happen to the pool

of sight, preferably. We’ll be back… and when we are, the southron elves will fight at our side when the

“We’ll see,” she said.

took a step forward, towards the pool. Though his body had expected his feet to meet solid, if mushy, ground, it felt like there was nothing but air beneath them. Argrave fell into the water with nary a splash. Galamon counted

as though she

attentive, Yarra might have noticed a set of golden eyes watching her. A single, off-white Brumesinger crouched low atop a sand

#####

hand brushed against something hard—a sandy stone, by his estimation. It took him a second to think to conjure a bit of spell light, and at once, the subterranean cave became lit up with light. The cave was made of

and Argrave hasted to obey. Soon enough, Anneliese joined them, and Argrave supported her so that she

gave a thanks,

confirmed. “I can see

can keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t try anything.” He turned his head

was merely ‘whelmed.’ “And

Do you think we can

the druidic link,” she admitted.

then said, “Gonna grab your shoulders, guide

moved her along as he walked in the cavern. Fortunately, the place was spacious enough