Jackal Among Snakes

Elenore felt aimless both in the days preceding and succeeding Argrave’s coronation. Even now she sat in bed well past midnight, a stack of books beside her. She had been reading for days on end, educating herself on matters where she found her knowledge lacking. All the while, the veritable gears of this machine she’d built as the Bat spun ever onwards, advancing her interests. At this point, ‘her interests’ had become vague.

She took the actions that she did fully expecting some manner of repercussions. The day that she established contact with Felipe as the Bat, it had merely been to keep a potential avenue of communication open. Yet as time went on, the opportunity began to take shape. She knew Argrave, had seen his soul laid bare with Vasquer’s assistance. He wouldn’t agree with wanton assassination of Atrus’ leadership.

Elenore turned her legs, freeing her stumps of the blankets she hid beneath. What had she expected to come of her actions? A stern rebuke, perhaps. A lecture. Paranoia from Argrave or his companions. Less responsibilities. Or maybe… just a quiet acceptance. A shift in perspective.

Elenore laughed at herself. “You are a fool, aren’t you?” she said aloud.

She never had been able to predict Argrave, no matter how much information she collected on him. Instead of all she expected, Argrave simply took a quiet step back. The newly-coronated king did not argue about what she did. He didn’t even mention it much at all. Though she had come to know he travelled most everywhere with Anneliese, he only visited her alone. True to his words, he did not come to her asking for favors or seeking information. Instead, he made inquiries about her well-being and talked about a variety of mundane, if nonetheless interesting, things.

Elenore thought Argrave had decided to keep Anneliese away from her. She sought the elven woman out, testing this theory. Contrary to her expectations, Anneliese received her amiably and was more than willing to talk. This only further baffled her.

Elenore even briefly questioned if this whole experience was some bizarre method to change the way that she thought about things. Argrave still acted warm, after all—he still demonstrated that he cared about her. Perhaps this was all just some venture to make her self-reflect. She felt amused at the notion yet could see that being the case even still. If it was, it worked.

Elenore opened the drawer on the side of her bed, retrieving the heavy white prosthetics. She fit her stump into one, then slowly turned the handle until the clamps tightened around her flesh. The other followed shortly after. Once they were on, she rose to her feet.

Regardless of whether this was deliberate on Argrave’s part, Elenore had ample time to consider things. And in time… the question she asked changed. Rather than what she had been expecting… what had she been hoping for?

Perhaps it was self-destructive. Perhaps she knew subconsciously that this was folly, and drove herself towards it nonetheless. She had tested the limits with Felipe, and he cast her aside. She had tested the limits with Induen, and he claimed he would cast her aside if he wanted to. And now, once again, she tested the limits with another of her kin that she had come to trust to see if the result was the same.

Fear and paranoia—was this truly what drove her? Did she act out her fears of being discarded?

‘The lesser is discarded without fail,’ she had told Durran once. She truly believed that, then. Argrave’s words haunted her, lately.

You made yourself lesser… for me.

by pragmatism and rationality. She had toiled long and hard to morph herself into that. Yet this idea of her self-destructive paranoia, once formed, took root in

captured. Word reached her on the day of Argrave’s coronation. She had attempted to tell Argrave this news, but he would not allow it. Though an unfortunate lapse in judgement by some guards had allowed the would-be King of Atrus to escape for a time, he was caught, bound, and escorted back to Dirracha for judgement.

what Elenore had been

had built. She did loathe Levin. She hated herself for allowing Therese to be so simply caught. She had been

decision, setting them on the path to a decisive victory in war… she thought it almost a joke, now. She

not Felipe. He was

proof enough of that. The man had spied on her, followed Durran through Dirracha as he did Argrave’s bidding. Yet he was caught. Elenore was well-prepared to kill him for breaking her trust. Indeed, at the time, she

away several times, thinking herself a ridiculous fool time and time again. The jewelry Argrave lent her allowed her to see beyond, and

pair of gleaming golden eyes greeted her, shining like candles in the dark.

you a favor,” Elenore

furrowing. “At midnight. What kind of

of what you might assume,” Elenore shook her head.

away. Still, he left the door open. Elenore proceeded in, shutting the door

other allies. I won’t hear it, you know,” Durran rubbed at his eyes, laying down on

of his time engrossed in books. She scanned through some of them with her field of perception, seeing the diagrams and the neat writing in the closed books. Spellbooks, research… the crude-looking tribal was much more erudite than she thought. His field of study was a bit more gruesome than hers, granted. Necromancy, it seemed to

on her.

prosthetic that wore at the flesh less,” she launched into her request, deciding to ignore the unusual circumstances. “Do you have any knowledge on the

brows, evidently surprised, then laughed. “You’re being serious?” he cleared his throat. “Well, sorry I laughed. That isn’t funny. I was thinking about something else,” he assured, shaking his head in quite the obvious lie. “I mean…

good one,” Elenore asked him.

wear. I said they wore at the flesh, and they’re heavy… but the ones you’re wearing are durable,” he conceded. “And… don’t know if Argrave mentioned this… but in a couple months, he’s looking to deal with your loss

“Could you?” she repeated.

neck. “…you know what? Why not. I can do a little research, change up the material, the way I did things… fun little project. Argrave, Anneliese, and Galamon prepare for war, but

do mean a good set,” she cautioned, uneasy

I’ll do it, I’ll do it,