Jackal Among Snakes

“Set aside this fight, for now. Let me ask you a question,” Durran hefted his glaive, pointing it at Garm. “Say you prevail. What next?”

“I’ll work at regaining the power I had,” Garm answered at once.

Durran lowered the glaive. “You see, I’ve noticed a little problem you have. I ask that question, and you first talk about what you’re going to do for yourself.”

“I can’t help anyone without power,” Garm shook his head. “That’s why you’re doing this, no? I offered you a route to power, and you lunged for the opportunity.”

“More I learn about you, the more I realize how your perception of me is flawed. There’s a key difference between you and I,” Durran settled back, sitting cross-legged amidst the field of black roses. “And it’s how far we’re willing to take things.”

Garm raised a brow, and also sat down patiently. “How so?”

“Let’s reflect on things,” Durran raised his hand up. “You deliberately withhold information whenever it suits you. You lie constantly to get what you want. You don’t care about how your actions bother people, nor about those you hurt. Moreover…” Durran picked a black rose. “These things you summon. They’re made of human flesh. I can’t just gloss over the fact that death is such a casual thing for you.”

Garm snorted. “You’re denouncing me as a bad person? You joined me in this deception. Don’t get sore when you got caught in your own trap.”

“You don’t really care about other people,” Durran held his gaze. “That’s the impression I get.”

Garm stared in silence, then raised a brow. “Is that a bad thing? I do intend on helping Argrave, if that’s your concern.”

“I know what I’ve seen,” Durran said flatly. “And I’ve seen that when you want something, you’ll do whatever it takes to make it yours. Person like that with power… well, it’s dangerous. Letting you roam free would be dangerous. If not for the present, for the future. Gerechtigkeit might be a supreme enemy… but what comes after, that’s just as important. That was my mistake at Sethia.”

Garm scratched his cheek. “A man can’t change?”

“My uncle was someone who did whatever he needed to get what he wanted,” Durran said calmly. “You yourself said people like him were like rabid animals, and that the best thing to do was put them down. For themselves as much as everyone else.”

“I said people that toy with kids are rabid animals. You’re comparing me to your molester uncle?” Garm veritably growled.

Durran shook his head. “I don’t think you have that twisted inclination, no. But if you did, nothing would hold you back. You’ve got no conscience. No morals.”

Garm threw a dagger at Durran, and the tribal warrior quickly rolled to the side to dodge it.

this guilt I’ve been

has been miserable,” Durran continued as Garm rose to his feet, readying spells. “I’ll admit that. You’ve gotten plenty of life lessons that taught you to be as you are. In your situation, you had to take what you wanted, because no one

stabbed his glaive into the earth

in the desert is harsh, and so they learned how to take what they want by the blade. It worked well, for a time. They conquered the empire of the

lucid dream-like state. Great spouts of water hunted each bat that came towards him, killing them relentlessly. Ahead, Garm used Argrave’s favorite spell, and electric eels

of others,” Durran continued. “You’re tough. Tougher than me,

of near one hundred electric eels shot downwards at Durran. He pulled an axe out of thin air, and swung it upwards. Garm only realized it was made of Ebonice when everything he’d conjured dissipated, and sparks of

forth and grabbed

than me. Better embodiments of southern tribal traditions, by all rights.” He held Garm there, squeezing tight. “When I was the last living, my father said I was ‘good enough.’ And that’s

Sethia?” Garm smiled mockingly, barely resisting Garm’s

were Argrave, you would have sided with the Vessels from the beginning,” Durran pulled him closer. “Am I

less danger, much less sacrifice. Less

their grip over the Burnt Desert for time eternal. And my people would be dead. I

contort unnaturally, popping and breaking. He seemed to be shrinking. “It’s a damn

of the day, if you’d stop worrying about what’s right and worry about what’s good, you’d live

well and living right are mutually exclusive. For most people, the two are

yourself,” Garm disagreed. His transformation had finished—once again, he was but a head atop a stake. His eyes were missing, now.

Durran shook his head. “And

it. You’ll never know what’s in my head. You’ll

his head. “We have mutual understanding. The same kindness you hate so much, Garm, is exactly what you wanted as a kid. Maybe we’re alike in that way. But rather than becoming those who mistreated me, I’d much rather be

Despite his harsh words, Garm’s voice

fear… or something else. And he would never

#####

body of Durran. He was unsure of what, exactly, was going to happen. Matters of the soul, of death… simply put, there was a reason Galamon never studied magic. He was smart in many areas, but he

though the person had just woken up. Galamon knew, then, the battle was finished. He stood, walking over to the altar-like table where Durran rested. The eyes were

person had given no indication they were actually

golden eye locked on Galamon. Slowly, the man sat up. He looked at his hands like

Galamon asked

eyes started at Galamon for