Jackal Among Snakes

All of them convened back at where the paths branched earlier where Galamon was waiting. A spiral staircase had opened up, leading deeper into the lower levels. There, the name of ‘living fortress’ truly made itself readily apparent, as the stairs were constantly intruded upon by overgrown flesh and conspicuous bones.

“This whole place should be burned,” Hegazar concluded as they moved deeper. “I see, now, why necromancy is banned. How many corpses went into this project? Thousands? Such a despicable thing.”

Durran called from the back of the line, “Who says they were human corpses?”

Hegazar either had no response or did not deign to give one, as their advance went quiet once more. The narrow spiral staircase was not so long, and they soon came to a much larger hall. And this hall… it was precisely what Argrave needed. It was the golden nugget to flash to the ravens to draw their eye.

The sight before them was not pretty. If Argrave had been shown the room in isolation, he might’ve assumed it was the site of some depraved sacrificial cult. The stone room was held up by a giant ribcage, each of the ribs acting as pillars for the building. Each of the ribs had a crucified body nailed on them—the torsos of these bodies were especially large, and all flesh had been ripped away to leave only bone.

“Good gods,” Vera held her hand to her nose, but despite the horrific scene, there was no smell. There was no blood or gore to make a scent. Anneliese looked perplexed by the Magister’s action, and Argrave knew right away that Vera feigned disgust. After all, she dabbled in necromancy herself. It was why Argrave was sure this journey would entice her.

Argrave was the first to step forward. “The heart chamber. What we came here for,” he explained.

Upon closer examination, the bodies crucified to the giant ribs were unusual in many ways. Their heads had only ears and mouths, both enlarged. The torsos were simply a bonelike cage, and the one Argrave examined had books locked behind it. They weren’t bodies at all, actually—they were necromantic creations that served as lockboxes for the valuables within.

“What’s in this?” Argrave asked.

“Now, how would I—” Hegazar began.

“Scholarly works by High Wizard Anders, detailing his unique ascension to A-rank utilizing necromantic magic,” the head just above the skeletal cage answered in a groan of a voice. It raised its head up to answer the question, and once it was finished, sagged lifelessly once more.

Argrave nodded, feeling a similar repulsion to the sights around that reminded of his time in the Low Way of the Rose. He turned to where the rest of his party was.

“There you have it, Magister Vera, Magister Hegazar. Ask these what’s inside them. I think you’ll quickly find that this journey was worth your time. I’ll caution, though—don’t try and open any of them. Try and wrench them open, cast magic? You risk triggering the enchantments nearby, and the contents will be destroyed. Anti-theft measures. Even a Wizard of the Order of the Rose would resort to common thievery, it would seem…”

trying to upsell your value, Argrave. Why would a magely Order dare destroy any of their knowledge? It’s foolish. Nonsensical. No Order would ever

to say, but he knew Hegazar loathed being challenged or humiliated. He stood before the Magister, smiling as he thought

personal freedom—necromancy requires such a thing, after all, given

“Scholarly works by High Wizard Anders, detailing his unique ascension to A-rank utilizing necromantic magic,”

there were enchanted items here,” Vera stepped up, crossing

Argrave nodded,

again, and

held his

spell, and it cut towards the bone cage before them. Before it even reached its mark, the cage compressed, sparking. The enchantments on the book and the cage both shimmered violently for a

them—a long, dry, and wheezy laugh that echoed throughout the heart chamber. The laughter was returned by each and every other head, and before long it was as though a whole gallery mocked

laughter. Vera certainly had no such issue—her voice joined along

at once. “It seems there is a reason their Order has died. They waste their

eyes. “I think it’s

we’ve earned from this trip?” Argrave suggested, tugging at their greed

#####

of the Owl had left behind, and consequently there was only so much that one could learn before one had to study independently.

essentially offered another a key to their power. By sharing knowledge, they ostensibly created a direct rival—a direct competitor. There had to

loyalty to the Order—all helped the Order rise, and in turn, each and all would rise up with it. It was a reasonable exchange that created a natural loyalty… in theory. In reality, the higher-ups enforced strict regulation of resources that allowed only a select few protegees of the elite cadre to advance. Even someone relatively benevolent like Master Castro could not change that system. He was one S-rank mage among many, just with a little more authority and a

they’re creating new leaders to take their place. An age-old problem, reflected in the Order of the Gray

people on the path of magic. He had freedom from that system because he knew secrets most could not even dream of. He had his A-rank ascension, Anneliese’s, and even Durran’s all planned out. He knew

an invaluable piece of knowledge that could help them win talented people to their faction

prize just beyond the glass, reading about all of the delicious flavors they might sample. Every new thing they saw made them hungrier. Blood magic flavor, earth magic flavor, illusion magic with mint…

cream, Argrave thought. So long as you behave on

bit difficult to think about ice cream at all. Nevertheless,