Jackal Among Snakes

Duke Rovostar crouched at the top of a hill, watching the Dragon Palace radiate shadow with morbid fascination. He, just as all his men, had felt the strange force that emanated outwards… and now witnessed what seemed to pull the world inwards. And as he did, he recalled the conversations with Traugott.

#####

“Why are you doing this?” Rovostar had asked, his scarred face dancing in and out of light as a single torchlight flickered.

Traugott, the dark-skinned Magister, had smiled. “You attended the Order. You know of forces beyond comprehension… but you’ve never experienced them.” His eyes wandered to the torch he held. “I had shelved trying to understand the gods, trying to bear witness… but I realize, now, I struggled on that field because I stared at a shut door. I have been enlightened, recently, by a chance encounter with someone who knows more than I do. Perhaps ‘encounter’ is the wrong word… but I was enlightened nonetheless.”

Rovostar recalled narrowing his eyes back then as they met in the loyalist camp. At the time, he’d thought this was just nonsensical ramblings.

“This realm is just as dangerous to the gods as the gods are dangerous to us,” Traugott said with a smile. “Spirits, gods, souls… all three are interconnected parts of a larger whole. One is transitory—a key. The other two are… symbiotic,” he explained. He examined Rovostar’s face, then laughed. “You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well, it doesn’t matter. Orion is the key to what we both want. I will distract him for your ends, which ultimately serves my ends. That’s the end of the matter.”

“This is a dangerous man we’re talking about,” Rovostar had cautioned. “He crushed the head of some pompous Magister with his bare hands. He makes a habit of brutalizing the arrogant. When he was on my side, it was reassuring. As an enemy, Prince Orion is nightmarish.”

“I’m not intending to fight. I’m intending to distract,” Traugott shook his head. “And I assure you… Orion will have his eyes on nothing else.”

#####

As Rovostar stared at the palace in recollection, Georgina walked up beside him. “I’m ready,” she declared.

“I’m not,” Rovostar said idly, questioning only now if he had too eagerly accepted help because of their desperate position. “But I never have been ready to fight, not really. Let’s recover His Majesty.”

#####

The Magister was no fighter—the spells he cast were not done at opportune times, his accuracy was off, and his general situational and spatial awareness were not especially high. The only thing enabling this

a rarity. Perhaps Orion should’ve realized that something was wrong with this strange tactic of his

before the throne of Vasquer, arms held wide. “Is this all you’ll amount to?” he questioned calmly, his breathing only slightly uneven.

he splashed through an ocean. In response

him. He had expected his fingers to meet stone… yet instead, they sunk through.

the darkness Traugott had fallen into persisted like a puddle of abyssal ink.

from behind Orion.

whipped his head around and prepared to attack as needed, yet suddenly a great scream pierced his ears. It had no source. The prince fell to one knee in

happy,” Traugott continued, his arms still at his side. “You will get what you want, Orion. I never lied. You turned me away

his head. It was a chorus of voices, each and all in extraordinary pain. He released his grip entirely and fought back, yet still his arms refused to move. Pain

key,” Traugott said calmly. “Yet you,

a hundred voices screamed in agony in his ears. Then, without warning, he felt a sudden deprivation. His mind felt

opened the border. I was right.” The Magister watched in

second as Orion’s mind shifted dramatically. The resistance from beyond the inky portal of darkness failed, too, and the prince managed to wrest his arms out somewhat. Slowly, he gained momentum. As the last scream became an echo,

behind… a shadowy protrusion jutted out. The light warped around it as though being sucked inside. Whatever emerged writhed. The more light it absorbed, the more clearly defined its form became. Orion barely recognized it as a gargantuan colorless finger with a long uncut nail. It tried to widen the opening, like a finger stuck through a hole in a cloth shirt. And eventually… it succeeded, and a second protrusion rose up. Yet

fascinated. “The opening created by the spirits…” he kneeled down. “The creature struggles, but

in fascination. The Magister widened his eyes and tried to step away, but the prince thrust his hand out at his chest. He managed to get a ward up, but Orion broke straight past it and punched the man in the shoulder. He heard cracks and pops as Traugott’s shoulder twisted unnaturally. The man barely

Orion’s armor had been torn to shreds. Traugott held his right shoulder with his left

overexcited,” Traugott said, coughing up some blood—perhaps the blow had damaged his lungs. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve proven a theory of mine with your help,” he said as his shoulder corrected back into place. His eyes glanced back at the opening on the ground,

yet did not appear again this time. Orion stood there with a clear mind. The whispers that had troubled him… they were gone, completely and utterly. In this clear

light. Orion started to walk forth, feeling that whatever tried to escape from this opening could not be allowed to do so. He raised both of his hands up,

sensation in his hand drained away. Panicked, he released it. That gave the creature time enough to free itself. As soon as it came through, the opening shut, disappearing into nothingness. The new arrival rose