Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stared at Galamon as red mist poured out of his body. He was running things through his head in a panic, yet held out his hands to follow his course of action.

“Remember what we talked about, Galamon,” Argrave called out. “Stay conscious. All your years of experience in fighting this thing—use it. You are stronger than the beast.”

A spell matrix whirled in Argrave’s hand—one of C-rank. Then, his black blood started to come free of his hand, bringing the pain that came with blood magic all too familiar to Argrave. He used the spell [Putrid Paramerion], summoning a potent weapon of blood that took the form of the curved sword from which the spell took its name.

The red mist responded to this spell like piranhas smelling blood in the water. It started to flow towards Argrave, coalescing into biting fangs that threatened to chip away at the impeccable surface of the bloody blade.

“Muriem, Rhomaden,” Argrave repeated. “What do those names mean to you?”

Looking at Galamon, whose eyes had been completely obscured by the glowing red mist pouring out of his orifices, it was difficult to feel as though he was talking to a person.

“How did you meet Muriem?” Argrave asked, expecting no answer. He pulled the blade close to him and knelt until his face was level with Galamon’s. “And how did that lead to that little boy you named Rhomaden? I don’t need the details, just think about it.”

No noise came from Galamon, either way. The people nearby stared at Argrave strangely… all except Anneliese. In his free hand, Argrave cast another spell—a druidic spell. His Brumesingers scampered out of his clothing, surprising both Svetlana and Ganbaatar. The elf, who still held his wire around Galamon’s neck, had the forbearance to refrain from anything stupid. The small fox creatures hated the cold, yet they obeyed Argrave’s order nonetheless. Their mist spread out around them, prepared for combat.

“Keep him steady,” Argrave commanded all nearby. Then, he plunged the blade forth.

The curved sword of blood pierced Galamon’s abdomen, and the snow elf naturally writhed for a moment. The mist pouring from Galamon started to coalesce—not around the blade, but back into Galamon.

“Fight it!” Argrave shouted. “You don’t want this blood. The beast wants the blood. Let the beast have it—let the beast take it! But Galamon, you must refrain, because that’s not what you want,” Argrave said through clenched teeth, fighting past the enormity of his instincts that screamed at him not to hurt his companion.

something else beyond his movements. There was

Galamon’s body an echo was not quite right. It did not merely follow what he did… indeed, it had different desires. It wanted the blood, the valuable black blood,

of food, of breathing, of drinking water again! Think of setting foot upon the frozen shores of Veiden! Think of

started to differ from what Galamon was doing. As though craning against invisible bindings, it reached, pulling against the force, trying to bring its hands inward to grasp the blade of blood plunged into its stomach. The surface of the blade started to chip

friends… Damn you, you’re going to do what I need you to do. I got a big burden, and I ain’t so tough…” Argrave rose to his feet and put his boot

stuck, and Argrave knew he’d hooked the fish he’d been baiting. All watched Argrave with shock and awe…

holding onto the blade of blood that he’d conjured. There was another, and they were larger than even him. With indiscriminate red features, Galamon’s vampiric beast looked at Argrave. And the red construct was most definitely alive. Anneliese had a spell matrix prepared, but obviously feared to cast when the

this before the blade in his grip shattered beneath its intense strength. It lunged at Argrave, both hands rushing for his stomach. Argrave tried to retreat to

vampiric beast through the arm… or rather, a mist warrior conjured by the Brumesingers had. Their chiming howls echoed and their mist spread out,

was protected by the Brumesingers. The beast changed targets to Anneliese. The thing moved so ridiculously quickly that the only thing she could

from its brief encounter with Anneliese and was prepared to dart away, using both its legs and arms for tremendous speed. It made no sounds and

Argrave was ruing underestimating the beast itself. It was a relatively weak, if speedy, construct that he assumed would be dispatched the moment people saw it. Even Anneliese, who had been informed beforehand, could not act fast enough. He neglected to make the proper preparations. As it neared Svetlana, Galamon,

vampiric beast, and though a great bit of it was blown away, it reformed just as quickly. The lightning

yet then, seeing opposition from nearly every direction, made the most unexpected choice. It started to run away, heading away from the abandoned

Argrave cursed, his wound finally healed. He started conjuring [Electric Eels], yet already the creature was getting away. He feared some damage

and it rolled away. Argrave spotted a glint in the air, and realized Ganbaatar was standing… and his wires were free of Galamon’s throat. He threw out his left hand, and another knife flew through the air. The creature dodged again, and then made to keep running. Ganbaatar manipulated his hands, and the wires closed in. In not a second,

up beside Ganbaatar. The creature, utterly severed in half, persisted in solid shape as the two of them walked towards it. Its lower half was regenerating ever so slowly. Argrave felt like he was staring at an echo of Galamon. He was reminded of the time he’d seen the man frenzied by

breathing slightly heavily. He put his boot on the back of the creature, ceasing to conjure [Electric

his heartbeat,” Ganbaatar returned. The creature tried to reach