Jackal Among Snakes

Orion stepped in front of a large wooden house that was guarded by a great contingent of royal knights. For a few moments, they braced in anticipation of the big man that entered before them. Yet when recognition dawned, one stepped forth.

“Prince Orion?!” the man shouted, infinitely surprised. “You… you’ve returned?” The man took a deep breath, and duty came to the front of his mind. “The king informed us to send you to him as soon as you were found.”

“People say Vasquer is down there,” Orion looked at the man.

Orion and Boarmask passed back through the Burnt Desert, travelling quickly. As time proceeded, Orion felt a sense of urgency—he even carried the knight on occasion to make the journey go faster. And once they passed over the mountains dividing Vasquer from the desert of black sand…

Vasquer. Not the kingdom nor the house, but the snake from which so much of both derived their legitimacy. Though Boarmask had said there was no such thing as a moment of enlightenment and Orion had never found one himself… as soon as he heard the news, his urgency to return to his home redoubled. It felt like a light amidst the tunnel of darkness he walked. This must be the answer he sought.

If any could free him of doubt and indecision, it was surely the one who had started this all: Vasquer.

Once Orion stepped back on the kingdom’s soil, the whispers returned… yet now, they felt strangely alien to him. Indeed, it was difficult to adapt, difficult to sleep. And he did not listen to them. He had another he might receive answers from, another he might find the truth from. And he pursued that goal relentlessly, readily accepting Boarmask’s help to this end. Now, the two of them had been led here by rumors and whispers.

All of that led him here.

“My prince, how did you get here?” another asked, stepping towards Orion. “The king and the guard have been searching for you. Your presence is desperately needed at the palace.”

“Is Vasquer in here?” Orion repeated, unheeding.

“Yes,” one royal knight finally answered, almost off-handedly.

Another knight looked at him angrily, yet quickly stepped up before Orion. “The king has forbidden all to enter here. Please, my prince, return to the palace.”

“The royal family is barred from nowhere,” Orion dismissed, stepping past.

Boarmask protested, yet followed behind

anticipation to heed the words shouted at his ears. Soon enough, he barreled past them all, for none were willing or able to harm him. His feet moved so quickly he seemed to fly down the

final, incredibly steep flight of stairs. He took them as quickly as the others… yet once he passed a certain point, a gargantuan

through the Burnt Desert and back again, impacted with the stairs time and time again, echoing across the

voice cut off as he,

until very

horror, no fear, despite the sheer scope of this majestic serpent. It felt as though he walked towards a great protector—a figure of myth that he’d read of for years, manifest in flesh

his body. He felt drawn to her as iron to a magnet, and his hand

the gods’ way, different than his own

ever felt so right as

of his mind. It was not like a bursting dam; instead, it was like the dam ceasing to exist in less than a second. His questions, his uncertainties, his self-doubt, his confusion, and his emotional turmoil spilled from his brain, their stagnant waters becoming a flooding river in seconds. He felt a child again, grabbing at his mother’s shins and

all as uncompromisingly as a mother

was real, he felt it in his very being. He did not know when, but

words. The world is

of this unprecedented relief. Vasquer’s scales

what had spurred this confusion, and the answers he sought. And he asked Vasquer all of them—his doubts about the pantheon, his doubts

thrown himself into danger on behalf of his ideals in the past, but Orion liked pain and suffering no more than any. Vasquer had given him his comfort. Now was the

so the truth

Vasquer, this great serpent before him… they had never come to Berendar to forge a kingdom. They came as protectors, defenders of the world. They sought to establish a bastion against the

power. It was, more than anything, death,

was undermined by their own kin. Felipe I and Vasquer… their own children betrayed them. The first son craved dominion over men. He turned protectors into enforcers of his will and declared a

a good, fulfilling life. He pitted the first and second sons against each other, causing betrayals in their ranks and continued disunity until they both perished in their foolish, overreaching ventures. He embraced the help

war against the elves, the origins of the gods… this third son twisted an ambitious conquest into a war of liberation, and a pact