Jackal Among Snakes

Orion wandered through this unending black desert, lost once again. Though he had known he wanted to come here, now that he was here… he was once again adrift, utterly lost to his next direction. All he did was walk towards the distant white palace he saw, half-thinking it a mirage.

The prince had come to the south to speak with the Margrave of Parbon, Reinhardt. Once he arrived, Orion realized things would not be so dreamy and simple. At the time, the Margrave had actually been away—war was a busy time, and as things neared their beginning, the castle became a last resort rather than a constant home.

With his size and recognizable features, Orion was not confident of remaining long enough in Parbon territory for the Margrave to return… nor was he confident in tracking the man down without hostilities erupting. And so, instead of persisting as the crown prince in the midst of enemy territory… with a heavy heart, Orion abandoned the idea.

Instead, Orion passed over the mountain in the middle of the night, and as he crested their peak, a scene of two skies spread out before him—one in the sky, and one on the ground. It took a moment for him to realize that he saw sand—black sand. It was a land of beauty that he had never devoted his time to study… and a land in which the gods of Vasquer were foes, not friends.

Now, Orion wandered that black sand. The sun beat gently on his skin. It was neither boring nor harrowing—indeed, as the voices constantly whispering in his mind grew lesser and lesser, there was a strange tinge of the foreign that both terrified and excited Orion. The blessings were within him—he could not be parted from them—but it seemed that things were as the gods claimed, and the lands beyond Vasquer were truly untouched by their presence.

Before Orion realized it, he walked upon caked black clay, and the palace of whiteness before him was no mirage. Orion saw two men garbed in strange, foreign clothing, standing guard at the gate. He walked towards them. He saw the all-too-familiar sight of fear within their eyes… and they held their spears to block him.

“Stop right there. No outsiders allowed,” one of the men informed him.

Orion regarded them coolly, feeling a strange calmness. They had skin a different color than his—a different color than most in Vasquer. It was darker, tanner. Beyond, he saw a great assemblage of people walking, talking. Their manner of dress was foreign, and their appearances were unlike any had seen before.

“Why?” Orion asked.

“An outsider wreaked havoc in the distant south. Our mistress has forbidden us from allowing any outsiders to pay for food or water in fear of such a thing happening once again,” the spearman informed him curtly. “Now, step away. The Vessels of Fellhorn protect Delphasium. You shall join His eternal rain if you dare try anything,” he threatened.

Orion felt his wrath stir, yet without the whispers of the gods to spur him he was able to calm himself. He stepped away from the spearman, mind whirling with the new information conveyed to him. This outsider—based on all Durran had told him of their journeys, he knew it had to be Argrave. And then, Orion spotted another.

The man, who sat cross-legged beneath a tarp beside the pearly white walls, was in such poor health as to appear dead. He was more skeleton than flesh. And yet… as he watched, Orion saw he had golden eyes. It reminded him of the tribal from this land that he had taken under his wing. Orion stepped up to this man.

Kneeling, Orion asked quietly, “Are you an outsider, too?”

The man regarded him with his eyes but seemed to offer no answer.

“I can give you water if—” Orion paused. He was about to ask the man to convert. “Do you want water?” he instead asked.

The man’s golden eyes swam, appraising Orion more thoroughly. “You’re one of them?” he asked, voice a clicking rasp.

where the

that brought life back into his face. “I’d sooner die… than take it. Like the others… gone southward… empty

what the man might mean.

“A new hope. A new city.

to ask them more questions. He considered forcing his way past those men, or climbing the walls, or any number of things… yet at the end, this talk

south?” Orion

the man said, his dry mouth failing even now. “This place is lost. Eaten by the sun,

just want to

A dry laugh escaped the man’s

towards,” Orion explained, looking down at

golden rings against the light of the suns. “Opposite wall,” the man responded finally, lowering his

and walked away,

#####

her Starsparrow scouting but felt such a thing might be rude—Elenore must’ve merely wished to be alone with her grief. He could see plainly that she was working, for her people came and went and messages were sent and received. Argrave

was finally repaired. It had merely been an excuse to stop, but now it quite literally did stop their advance. Not too long after that, Elenore reemerged. She walked up to Argrave beside

Her voice

The word felt unnatural on his

when he said so. She held her zweihander in one hand, its blade leaning against her shoulder while its point stood

looked at her. “Probably who you think, yes,” he nodded. “Saw you at Mateth. You were working for my

should have guessed, looking at how big you are and all. Don’t remember seeing you at Mateth. Just never thought… hah. You were in Dirracha while the funeral of the crown prince you murdered was happening. What a

for entry into Relize,” Elenore explained, brushing past their

trustworthy, though, and this cart is marked by them. The biggest problem might be other patrician families trying to rob

times,” Argrave

smiled. “Suppose that saves

may not be hostile to us, as soon as our existence in common knowledge, we’ll be the target of every family within the city—their ambitions, their hostility… this is still the north, after all. On that note, I think it’s

his gaze lingering on

signal. “Melanie, go and

and knew why she had to go and make sure.