Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave laid in bed, staring up at the bronze hand mirror he’d once so loathed owning.

Traits: [Tall], [Black Blooded], [Intelligent], [Magic Affinity (High)], [Insomniac], [Blessing of Supersession (MAX)]

Skills: [Elemental Magic (C) {LOCKED}], [Blood Magic (C) {LOCKED}], [Healing Magic (C) {LOCKED}], [Illusion Magic (C) {LOCKED}], [Warding Magic(C) {LOCKED}], [Druidic Magic (C) {LOCKED}], [Inscription (E)], [Imbuing (E)]

Two accursed traits that had plagued him ever since he’d arrived at this place were now completely absent. Something else had taken their place—something glorious and black and bloody. He might’ve been alarmed by the giant words reading ‘LOCKED’ beside every rank of magic he’d learned but he’d been expecting such a thing. His magic pool had diminished significantly—he was only capable of casting spells of D-rank, now.

“What does it say?” questioned Anneliese.

“It says things that make me very, very happy,” Argrave answered, setting the mirror beside him on the bed. “Hot damn. I want to dance.” He cleared his throat. “‘When marimba rhythms start to play, dance with me, make me sway,’” he sung.

Anneliese smiled. “You are just as bad as singing as last time.”

Argrave laughed. “I know, I know—I’ve got no talent, I’m flat. But do you know what I am talented at? Or rather, will be?” Argrave pointed a finger.

“I can think of some,” she nodded.

“Flattering statement, little lady,” Argrave lowered his finger. “Henceforth, I will grow as a mage with ridiculous speed. Unprecedented. My magic will replenish faster than you can blink. I can diminish it just as fast, repaying that massive magic debt I accrued at Sethia. I suspect that’ll happen before we even leave this place. Each time I do this cycle, it’ll grow a little larger, a little larger...” Argrave held his fingers close together, and then widened them. “Before long, I won’t even need the Blessing of Supersession. My magic pool will be larger.” Argrave paused, then recanted, “Alright, that’s one hell of an exaggeration. But still!”

Anneliese moved to sit on the bed. “Your emotions are returning. Does that mean…?”

Argrave nodded. “I wasn’t being delusional. I feel it coming on. It’s like…” Argrave paused. “You remember, when you were young, you’d feel this weird aching, throbbing, in your legs? Growing pains, some called them.”

She looked to her legs, thinking, and then nodded. “I think so,” she confirmed.

“Well, it’s like that… but all over,” Argrave moved his hands around, touching various places. “And… it’s getting worse.”

“Things have only just begun,” a voice echoed throughout the room.

The Alchemist stepped inside. Argrave clammed up immediately and focused his gaze on the returned giant. Anneliese stood from the bed, coming to attention, yet remained quiet otherwise. The bed shook with every step he took.

Soon enough, he came to stand over Argrave’s four-poster bed, his upper half concealed by the bedframe. He held his hand out, and the fingers retracted within. A great eye opened on the now-fingerless palm. The gray pupil shone with spell matrixes, darting about and scanning Argrave’s body. Anneliese stepped back, startled, then bravely stepped back and sat beside Argrave.

“If I were to open your chest once again, we might see the heart working. Blood enters it normally and exits changed. Insignificant, now, but in time it will all be replaced. Black Blooded.”

fingers together. “In addition, waste will be forcibly expelled from the body. At the peak, I suspect you will begin sweating, vomiting, and defecating blood. It will leave no lasting damage, I suspect. In addition, your skin, hair, and nails may fall off, regrow. I am uncertain of this.

Argrave swallowed.

changes, but they will morph as well. Your organs will become much more efficient as

the intensity of the magic in your blood.” The Alchemist flipped through Argrave’s written report, reading as he spoke. “Infection and disease become impossibilities. Wounds will heal better,

you this because I expect you to keep noting these things. You will describe what occurs within, daily, and continue to be subject to my scrutiny. In return, you will

then,” Argrave nodded. “Any

pester me needlessly. Beyond that, my other condition remains

on the nightstand and left, his exit jarringly abrupt. The both of them sat

better than lawyers in terms of

questioned, ignoring his little

too loud, he’ll take my larynx,” Argrave explained, staring at

“Larynx?” she repeated.

his throat. “Lets me

him. “How loud is

“Loud

I will make sure no sound gets out. Still, what

curious… what did you feel from

reading their body, their face, than something external. I cannot read animals, nor things drastically different from humans or elves. The only reason I was able to read those creatures in the Low

hoping for something

not be nervous,” Anneliese reassured. “I vowed that absolutely nothing would go wrong. And I will be sure of that,

did feel reassured by that, knowing they were more than empty words coming

a vast jungle, granted, but I did not think it dangerous. And I did not think they would not care about your wellbeing…” She shook her

what I came here for. I don’t think they can take that away,” Argrave clenched the blankets tight. “But Durran and Garm

#####

refuse,” said the Alchemist, plainly and loudly, voice ever-grating

and Galamon stood within the vast library that Argrave had discussed his surgery in, Garm held in Galamon’s hand. Though the area had been clean and tidy when Argrave left barring some misplaced books, it was now

Garm questioned against his

the air, and vague cracks echoed out around

not be party to killing something that I have interest in,” he said plainly, though his voice was noticeably lower in pitch. “A necromantic creation that retains its sentience, retains its soul in toto, barring foolish, unnecessary damages that seemed to have

on his feet, looking to Garm in

you—I’ll allow you to study

Blooded one recovers. A process taking a month at most. Insufficient time to draw my interest enough to do as

things to offer,” Garm continued. “Spells of the Order