Jackal Among Snakes

A lean man of above-average height wearing gray robes opened the door and walked inside. He was bald, though with sharp handsome features that seemed to have an indelible grin. This was not, despite appearances, Magister Hegazar. Instead, Argrave spotted a dim gray silhouette just behind. That would be the man himself.

“Hello, Magister Hegazar,” Argrave greeted, his legs crossed as he waited casually atop a couch. One of his arms rested across the back of the couch just behind Anneliese. Galamon stood behind, arms crossed before him as the ever-diligent guard.

Magister Hegazar was an S-rank mage whose A-rank ascension was closely linked with illusion magic. He was one of few Magisters in the Order to specialize in that branch of magic. The human figure Argrave saw—the bald, handsome man—was a constantly projected illusion. The silhouette was where Hegazar’s body truly was. Argrave suspected the only reason he able to glimpse even a hint of Hegazar’s true form was because of Garm’s eyes.

“Well… if it isn’t our Order’s resident Kinslaying Serpent, Argrave,” Hegazar greeted, his voice husky and deep. It had a certain intonation that dripped with amusement and cynicism. “My, I feel half a child again confronted by so many giants. My neck may hurt by the end of the conversation, craning it to look up at you.”

“Well, you are the true senior here, head and shoulder above us all,” Argrave answered at once, almost excessively flatteringly. Hegazar had an ego rivalling any A-list actor—Argrave’s strategy was to act as though he was ceding control to him while still controlling the flow of the conversation.

“I’m very glad we could meet today,” Argrave continued, rising to his feet. “Please, have a seat.”

The door shut behind him, and the lock clicked a second later. “Mmm…” Hegazar’s illusory body gave a nod. “Took you a while to reach out. I was beginning to think you were stringing me along like an ugly, kindhearted girl you didn’t have the heart to say ‘no’ to.”

Hegazar stepped into the room, and though his illusory body took a seat in the couch opposite Argrave, his true body roamed about the room, examining things. He didn’t ask about Anneliese or Galamon—he didn’t seem to care.

“But I suspect you were rather busy trimming your nails, cutting your hair, getting yourself presentable for the big crowd forming outside this tower,” Hegazar continued, voice projecting from his illusory body flawlessly. “Your pa must have a soft spot for you—he’s gathered so many people that are screaming your name, waiting for the very moment you step out onto the stage.”

Argrave laughed politely and sat back down, doing his best to keep his eyes away from the silhouette that wandered the room. “Fortunately for them, I’m not one to disappoint the people. I’d like to step onto the stage soon enough. But… stagecraft, any sort of art… it can be an expensive thing. Sometimes you need a patron. A sponsor.”

“Ahhh,” Hegazar’s false body leaned forth very naturally, placing both elbows on its knees. As it did so, Hegazar’s true form finally decided it had seen enough, and went to sit down where the illusory body already sat, lounging while the illusory form remained animate. “I see where I come in, I think. You’ve got production issues. Bit off more than you can chew, hmm?”

“Sometimes an opportunity’s too good to pass up, even if you have to overextend a bit to seize it,” Argrave said, putting his arm back behind Anneliese.

Argrave knew Anneliese well enough to tell immediately she was ill at ease when faced with Hegazar. It seemed that, despite his illusion, she could tell that the form sitting before them was not real flesh and blood.

“Mmhmm,” Hegazar leaned back, silhouette and illusion overlapping for but half a second. “Not to condescend, but these patrons, these sponsors—as much as you might be fooled into believing they throw money at half-baked ideas for the sake of throwing money, that’s not the case. These fools with gold in their soles—they’ve got an agenda. Either they like the art, or they see a golden, glimmering treasure mound at the end of the tunnel.”

care to hang on my wall. I don’t know you. I won’t stick my neck out. As for profit…” the illusory figure threw up its hands in a shrug. “Your pockets look a bit light to me. I certainly don’t see any pile of

way of speaking, and he felt very much swept along by Hegazar.

“Back when the Order of the Rose fell, Vasquer issued a ban on exploring their fortresses, and

a poor start to a trade,”

destroyed. And many of the locations, well… my dear old dad hoards those jealously, if he’s even got them. But the ban on exploration is up, and yours

his head and clicked his tongue. “If I wanted sweet promises, I could pay some troubadour to sing me songs about all

things in Argrave’s possession. He needed juicy bait to hook the biggest fish. He set it on the coffee table between him and Hegazar and slid it over. Rather than allowing the Magister to

I’m a fortune teller, this is my crystal ball,” Argrave leaned back in the couch as the A-rank matrix took shape. “The A-rank spell [Full Bloodmoon]. It’s the last of a series of spells I’ve already studied, somewhat. A devastating A-rank spell of blood magic. After

it part of one’s body. Rather than matrixes… these spells took root in the body, too. Rather than conjuring a matrix, the body itself served as a sort

that betrayed his true body got off the chair, kneeling before the table

book briefly, but the sound of a lock clicking echoed in the silent

though chased by something. Argrave smiled when he saw the woman step in after him. She had gray hair with orange, predatory eyes, and looked quite young. Argrave thought she was quite beautiful, but he felt

the place calmly as she crossed her arms. Wrath set

then, she laid eyes upon Argrave, and upon the wide-open A-rank spellbook. It was confusion at first, then ponderance, and then a stirring curiosity, each running across her face as quickly and obviously as Argrave

what might this be?” Vera stepped deeper into the room,

once, Hegazar stepped past Vera and shut the door behind her. She followed his true

what is this, Argrave? Some ploy by this old witch?” Hegazar asked, as off-balance as Argrave had hoped the suave Magister to

Durran, what the hell? This

onto the couch

the wrong time,” Argrave whispered in show, rising to his feet

head. “To the blazes with that. You don’t pay

Both Magisters watched this show of theirs. Argrave couldn’t tell if

over. “This is Order of the Rose work. And this book…”

the door. Eventually… the door’s lock

Hegazar. “You two seemed to