Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave hadn’t spoken to Galamon much at all since Garm was lost to them. Argrave couldn’t deny he was upset Galamon had gone behind his back so blatantly. They sat cross-legged amidst the sand dunes, the night sky above. The chill of winter had set in; they were well into the heart of the cold season. There was an awkward air between the two of them. It reminded Argrave of a dispute with his brother or father—they’d just avoid each other, saying only words that needed to be said…

“You look better,” said Galamon.

…until they started talking again, like nothing had happened at all. Maybe it was unproductive.

“I feel better,” returned Argrave.

But even if it was unproductive, Argrave liked things this way.

“That’s good,” nodded Galamon, white eyes focused on his armor. It was already well-maintained, but he kept it impeccably so.

Argrave stared as his hands moved, rubbing sand and oil against his armor for reasons Argrave couldn’t begin to guess. He looked around. Anneliese was taking care of something, while Durran read Garm’s writing, even now—the tribal seemed to be enchanted with it. Though Garm had left some writings related to the soul behind, Argrave still felt hesitant to read them for some reason.

His mind wandered, and he wondered what it was like to wear armor all day. Brows furrowed, he turned to Galamon.

“You think I should learn how to fight?”

Galamon paused, then turned his head towards Argrave slowly.

“…put Durran down easily enough,” he noted with the faintest smile, then focused back on his work.

Argrave laughed a little, feeling some strange mix of pride and shame. “I bet he could take me down twice as quick if the aggressor and defender switched places. But seriously… It’d be good to be versatile. If things go south…”

Galamon polished, but Argrave could tell he was thinking of an answer.

“The southron elves put it well. Magic has no ceiling.” He looked at Argrave. “Focus on it, you’ll keep getting better.”

“But things happen,” Argrave held his arms out, then uncrossed his legs. “Good to learn a trick or two, no?”

Galamon took a deep breath. “For you…” his white eyes scanned Argrave. “Your frame got bigger. I used to be your size… long time ago. I could give you advice for some things.” He shook his head. “Even still, I’d focus on learning to be agile. Magic will always be more powerful than a blade. Just dodge, get distance, obliterate them.”

“Let’s hear this advice, then,” Argrave suggested eagerly.

“Eat more,” Galamon said plainly. “You eat like a bird.”

Argrave hadn’t been expecting that. He’d been shoveling food into his mouth for the past month to the point of vomiting, and the idea of eating more now wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“Like a bird?” Argrave repeated, drawing lines in the sand. “Must’ve never seen a pelican.”

Galamon said nothing in response.

In truth, Argrave didn’t fancy the idea of learning how to fight. The few hard knocks he’d taken hadn’t been pleasant. He still shuddered when he remembered getting his cheek caved in by Induen, or the battle with Quarrus. Getting up close and personal offered the potential of a lot more of that.

for hours and have a blast, but exercise was different. Whether before or now, he never cared for weightlifting or running. He didn’t

back, walking towards them. His thoughts returned

want to build myself up a little,” he said decisively, watching

as

Anneliese as she rummaged through her backpack for something. She picked up her small Brumesinger, moving it aside,

and they don’t even know it,” Galamon shook

at Galamon,

hope you two stay happy,”

and me both,” he finally said. “Thought you might

asked, genuinely

‘you stick with your own people!’

had a scary, grating laugh that would be right at home in a horror movie. Eventually, he settled down, scratching

in exile?” questioned

he shook his head. “When war consumes the land, rapists, butchers, sadists—they all come out of the woodworks like rats fleeing from

things are just the same. You have good people… and terrible people,” he finished. Galamon stared at Argrave for a long while, white pupils

subject was

are good,” Galamon concluded. “Not to

say, but Anneliese walked up, a book in her hand. Argrave’s Brumesingers jumped free from his clothing, surging before her feet.

late,” she greeted. “We ought to retire. An early morning awaits, especially if we intend

He stood up and stretched, and his

#####

was not accurate—he stared above Sethia, at the clouds looming above

his attention. The tribal warrior turned his

sorry. It’s just…” he shook his head. “Never seen clouds over

still existed in the mountains, and it was a bit difficult to believe that clouds couldn’t be blown over Sethia. Presumably, the Vessels’ presence in the city had something to do with that—the air around them

a distance, Argrave could not deduce how well the city was doing underneath Titus. What he could notice, though, was that Aurum, the tower of gold, had been completely taken down. The other two remained standing, but construction around them implied that might not

pulled Durran along. “Crazy stuff. It’s white, cold, and it turns into

He followed Argrave, and the two of them joined up with Anneliese and Galamon. They passed through a narrow bit of mountain, and beyond, the

as before. Argrave looked around. The southron elves noticed them, and though caution was their first

up, crossing her arms before the four of them. Much of

the reason my father can’t walk

taken aback by that reaction, but

greeting, Iltuda,” Durran spoke before Argrave could. “Set a hostile tone

eyes widened again—evidently, she’d

out. He shook

put my head on it. I’ll pass. A friend of mine told me that’s

best

she hesitated, she did eventually hold out her hand to Argrave.

take the rudeness to heart. Our people only say what we really think to people we trust.” She shook her head. “My father said good things about you. All of you. He’s been saying a

understandingly. “If it’ll