Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave eyed a wriggling bag made of poor cloth handled by one of the men of the tribes of Vysenn. Some animal lovers would undoubtedly take umbrage with the treatment of the amphibians, suggesting that they would be traumatized being transported in such a manner.

“Your Majesty… what are your plans for these creatures?” the Firevein, standing off nearby, questioned as he looked into the distant land of greenery where the spring taiga reigned. “Do you intend to raise them?”

Argrave looked to him. “It would be hard to prepare an environment for them. They live in heat and need volcanic gases to get proper nutrients, something that I lack on both fronts. I might sustain them for a time, but I cannot keep them.”

“What of the crystals?” Anneliese suggested. When Argrave furrowed his brows, she elaborated, “From my homeland. They were embedded in the roads to ward away snow and keep the path clear.”

“Oh!” Argrave said, pointing to her. “A brighter idea than I could ever hope to think of. But… the other point remains true.”

“You say that you do not desire our lands… yet these creatures are the only reason we can persist amidst the harsh rocks and dense miasma,” the Firevein asked without asking.

Galamon stepped up and took the bag from the other’s hands, holding it out before his body as though he didn’t care to have the salamanders touch his body.

“I have other uses for them than preparing a force for colonization. I’m not exactly sure why you’re so protective over land near a volcano,” Argrave said ponderingly. “If you’re smart, you’ll heed this. You probably won’t, but here’s the advice anyway: migrate. That volcano will erupt once again. Your homes will melt and fuse with the earth, and your flesh and bones will be unrecognizable in the liquid rock. Doesn’t matter who you sacrifice to appease the volcano or what measures you take to prepare—unless you migrate, you’ll die.”

“Those of the green lands have been saying such a thing for hundreds of years,” the Firevein shook his head, then respectfully appended, “Em… Your Majesty.”

The Snowrock, however, was somewhat more serious. “Where would we even migrate? The lands beyond all belong to Your Majesty, and we are strangers in appearance. How would we survive?”

“Hmm…” Argrave thought for a few seconds, then continued, “Your people are well-suited for the earth. Most of your homes are built from it. Miners are always welcome. As a matter of fact… I can think of a few areas they’d be in rather high demand in the coming years, to the point where I’d accept migrants myself.”

“As slaves?” the Snowrock guessed.

“That custom is long gone,” Argrave shook his head. “And even if it wasn’t… it’s better than death, I think. Life outside Vysenn is of much higher quality than that within it.”

“Yes… it is better than death, Your Majesty,” the Snowrock nodded slowly.

“Given your leave, Your Majesty…” the reticent Tender of the Grasses spoke. “We would return, our matter… settled?”

“It’s settled,” Argrave nodded. “Don’t soon forget the lesson taught here.”

Taking that as their cue to leave, the three chiefs and their small entourage that had delivered the salamanders made to leave. As they left, the Snowrock paused.

“Your Majesty… those salamanders… though they can be eaten…”

“Speak not another word!” the Firevein shouted at his compatriot.

“I’d agree,” Argrave nodded, holding his hand out to stop the other. “I already know the ritual, so save your words.”

The Snowrock blinked, and the Firevein grabbed the man’s arm to shepherd him along. The tribal chieftain resisted the older man, then asked, “Is there aught you don’t know?”

how this world

him, commenting, “What strange naming customs. Did they have true names before

responded distantly, already thinking of what was ahead as he laid eyes

noted. “The blue-eyed one… I

took a

then fixed some of her long white hair behind her

same boat, it would seem. I appreciate your vigilance. We’ll have to relay that information to my sister, too. But

#####

hands on his knees as Durran and Elenore sat before

stars and the red moon were especially bright tonight, almost to the point the campfire was necessary only for warmth. They decided to camp here—it was far from Vysenn, yet nevertheless Argrave’s royal guard kept watch. After Anneliese’s display of prowess with her A-rank ascendency, he was markedly less worried about the barbarians offering any genuine threat.

he tried his best to rhyme, though he wasn’t confident the mnemonic would stick. “A

a rather unassuming black creature with moist skin. Whatever it breathed out was visible as some sort of black mist. It squirmed uncomfortably in her hand, yet she held it firm. “I recall you mentioning they were kept in

the answer not coming to him readily. Then, he answered unconfidently,

considerable knowledge base. As for that option, my jaw is rather weak and my stomach not so

aflame. Their blood

and laughed. “I think that’s enough for me. Unpleasant though it might be, I’ll take a few scales trapped between my teeth and an uncomfortable

have no scales,” Anneliese noted, observing the creature. “That was why I

a glance. “Even better. No self-immolation for me,

the ritual,”

wasn’t surprised. Elenore had chosen the same option in Heroes of

you’d prefer being set on fire than eating salamanders? I thought

it was

He was puking blood and turning inside out a

right, and following along with what he did wasn’t

of his head where his dark hair was thick. “I was talking about what I do,

doing it,” Elenore shook her head, then rose to

have what we needed. No need to throw caution to the wind. I’d

care a little less about what I do, and focus instead on what you do,” Elenore

looked as though he was choosing his words. Then, his bear roared loudly in rage, distracting all present. He stepped away to tend to his druidic bond, seeing what precisely

now?” Elenore asked, crossing her arms. She fidgeted, betraying

uh…” he gestured towards her body. “…the ritual. I’ll be nearby if I’m needed,

“I

this is the

Elenore nodded. “I

he lack confidence in the plan. Eventually, he said jokingly, “It seems my sister is a picky

hand. She offered

stayed silent for a moment, shuddered, and then walked with Anneliese, heading for a