Jackal Among Snakes

Though Argrave knew that something needed to be said to Orion, those words did not come to his head immediately as the two of them walked away from the rest of the party. They entered into the keep of the fortress that had manifested after the battle had concluded. Argrave glanced around at decrepit wooden furniture covered in equal parts by wood rot and growths from the wetlands.

Argrave came to stand over a table. Orion stood opposite it, staring at Argrave with curiosity as he waited for him to speak. Though Argrave briefly contemplated sitting in a chair, he saw its thin, shaky legs rotted out and decided against it.

“That centaur getting away bodes ill,” Argrave began, starting at the problem Orion had caused. “Centaurs—they’re closer to man than beast, and they can communicate with our foes. He can report to the commanders of the other fortresses, or even the Plague Jester herself.”

“You fear our enemies will take note of us? They already have—they harass us during this whole journey, brother,” Orion stepped around the table.

Argrave mirrored his brother’s steps, circling around the table opposite him. “This is different. These beasts that assail as we travel… they sense intruders and hunt them, but little else—now, you’ve displayed your power, stated your intent plainly. If the commanders are warned, the final assault will be all the more difficult. They’ll group up.”

Orion lowered his head. “I apologize.”

Argrave sighed. “I don’t get why this is happening. Back at camp, you lunged at Silvic as though she were your nemesis without any provocation whatsoever. Now, someone attacks you first, and you let them stab you? You let their ally get away?”

“I apologize,” Orion repeated sincerely, lowering his head further.

“I don’t want an apology. I want to know why,” Argrave insisted.

Orion raised a hand to the table before him, placing his fingers against it almost gingerly. The battle he’d just endured had destroyed both of his gauntlets, leaving only scraps of loosely hanging metal with broken enchantments behind.

“Do you ever grow lonely, Argrave?” Orion raised his head, gray eyes emotionless.

Argrave thought for half a second before answering, “Not lately. But I did, once. A lot.”

table, pushing it lightly and watching the thin wood bend and bounce back into place. “I cannot grow lonely. I always have company. The gods accompany me through life. Since my birth, they

less afraid of Orion lately, so he dared say, “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why do you act differently

wood splinters fell at his feet. “Because I don’t understand,” Orion said,

All is part of the natural order, and the world can only truly be perfect when their dominion extends from the tall mountains of Dirracha to the distant corners of the

to do something is wholly different from putting it into action. The task is simple: spread the faith. Yet the ways are manifold, subtle and direct in equal turns. Each path I

“Me?” Argrave questioned. “What?”

Orion continued, stepping across the wrecked table to stand before Argrave. “The people whisper of you staying an invasion from the Veidimen by treating with them in their land. This action saved the lives of thousands of faithful in Mateth. What’s more, Durran described your exploits against the foul heralds of Fellhorn. All of this… I could never have

will are second to none, and I have my parents at my back… I am impulsive, easily angered. Yet personality is not a static thing, and wisdom is more than equal to intelligence. Personality changes and morphs based on what happens. I am trying to understand, trying to grow, trying to learn

sort to anyone—certainly never the player in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ Maybe it was because things had changed. Or maybe it was

we have only allies and enemies. Even I am aware of that. Our

wetland spirit?” Orion turned back. “She is the enemy, yet

he was molded and twisted into what he is now. He was a convergence of so many forces, stretched so thin by so many it was a wonder he was

attempts to be a better person might sabotage their journey to cure the plague. Millions could die if Orion continued to act indecisively as he

weren’t mutually exclusive. And Argrave could get more time, if he got himself deeper involved with

get that. He took a deep breath, battling with his desire to be disentangled from the man before him. Orion was dangerous. They had already become too closely

step forward, looking up at the prince. “For now, put all of

#####

vague offer and his empty assurances, Argrave was not entirely sure that things would resume

the second day ended. Without a book to consume, Argrave was forced to relax and rest. He did not realize how much he needed such a thing until he had it, but once his

was coming to realize their relationship was strange. They seldom argued or fought, and their few disagreements were settled in less than minutes. Much of that was due to her, he suspected—she understood him without him needing to say much at all. Argrave had recalled some people claiming that arguments and fights were the sign of a growing relationship—if they did

Waxknights had better morale, having lost none of their own, and things were prepared in short order.

and then I get it right,” he explained hollowly to Argrave as he adjusted