Jackal Among Snakes

Crackling from flames echoed against stone walls, the sound rebounding countless times throughout the vast chamber. These flames burned in braziers before grand statues of stone owls, illuminating the stony birds and casting twisted shadows on the walls behind. Active enchantments kept the braziers alight. These enchantments all came from black chairs in a tight circle at the center of the room, each occupied with gray-robed figures with owls stitched on their shoulders. Some braziers were unlit corresponding to what chairs were empty.

“Can we all acknowledge what sort of power this would give him?” a man with dwarfism asked, dressed rather grandiosely in gray and gold. A maroon cloak draped across his chair, definitely larger than he was.

“I think that’s the point, Artur,” Vera responded with unusual respect from her seat beside Hegazar.

Tower Master Castro, opposite Artur, put his hand to his bald head and rubbed his forehead to ward away a headache. “It’s the whole point. We’ve seen what’s coming, all of us. King Argrave was the one to show it to me—show me all the proofs collected in this booklet,” he continued, retrieving it from his coat and waving it in the air. “With a strong—”

“I know the necessity,” Artur interrupted, holding out his short, wide hand bedecked with many elaborate golden rings. Their gemstones of myriad color danced with light from the burning flames, almost unnaturally so. “And I agree that it’s Argrave that should do it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” another Magister spread his hands out, confused.

“Every time I pause for breath, some imbecile thinks I’ve run out of things to say,” Artur leaned up in his seat, voice calm despite his insults. “We have to leverage this for the Order’s advantage, Master Castro. I want you to promise us all that, here in this exalted hall.”

“Leverage,” Castro repeated. “Do you care to elaborate?”

Artur placed his hands together, fiddling with one of the loose-fitting rings. “I think it’s long overdue that the royal family finally unload all the of the knowledge that its withheld from the Order—enchantment knowledge, general magic knowledge, methods of A-rank ascension privy only to the Vasquers…” he spread his hands out. “All of it.”

Castro peered ahead seriously. “That would need to go both ways, wouldn’t it?”

“Well…” Artur trailed off, taken aback. “Not… not necessarily. Much of the Order’s knowledge is private property.”

“Argrave intends to establish a parliament that holds genuine power,” Hegazar cut in. “Now, for some of us, the prospect of having the king’s ear might not be especially appealing. But the king does need magical advisement for the benefit of the realm. And if this position was to come with certain… academic advantages, shall we say, to incentivize this?” He clasped his hands together. “Who could say no?”

Moriatran, the old man who’d been glaring at Castro most of the meeting, cast his glare towards Hegazar. “Everyone knows the two of you are owned by him.”

Just then, something shifted behind Castro and someone new entered. The woman walked hastily and nervously to Castro, then whispered into his ear. He listened intently, then waved her away. Everyone focused on the Tower Master.

“Argrave seized Dirracha with Duke Sumner’s aid,” Castro summarized at once.

The more politically interested Magisters shifted in their chairs. Taking the capital—and furthermore, in cooperation with a primary proponent of the south—was ostensibly the end of this war.

“Apparently, they fought against a giant black demon. The death toll was around five thousand, of which a little over half were civilians. Levin and Felipe died in the fighting. It took the combined efforts of hundreds of mages, many of whom were A-rank, to put it down. Argrave claims this to be the beginning of things,” Castro said pointedly. “He’s invited all Magisters of the Order to a summit held at Dirracha, where he will display the creature’s corpse, explain what comes, and decide on a course for the future.” Castro looked around. “We’ve talked this through enough. It’s time to hold the vote,” he decided.

four common choices. One: support Argrave against Gerechtigkeit unconditionally. Two: support Argrave against Gerechtigkeit under the condition of

one

With fourteen—less than half—missing,

time she gave the last, she went back to the first and retrieved

of Argrave laughed that his was not the first choice marked off, and the process

of Argrave—has been

as the

a piece of paper and

immediately filled. The woman handling the voting waited patiently as people leaned to each other and whispered. Then, slowly but surely, the whispers died down and papers

papers, setting them down one after the other. Finally, after a certain number, she

using the Order’s leverage for its benefit—is the last remaining

room—half celebration, half-disappointment, and a silent portion who seemed not to care

council has chosen,” Castro said tightly. “As Tower Master, I am duty-bound to uphold this

ran across them,

to attend, surely,” Artur spoke, unheeding of Castro’s disposition. “We must decide a delegation. And furthermore, promulgate the

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seal on it. This gray wax depicted an owl. He looked to his

of the Gray Owl has announced public support of Argrave as king… and furthermore, this letter vaguely promises cooperation in light of an unprecedented coming calamity.” Reinhardt walked

what is that?” Marauch said

Reinhardt and picked up the letter himself, scanning it with his orange eyes. “It says nothing more,” he

there was word of Enrico… we might be able to

to the side, already somewhat privy to the details, but Delbraun asked in concern, “He knows more than you do…

red-haired margrave nodded. “This calamity isn’t some contrivance to justify Order support. It’s the real

more?” Duke Marauch pressed

really,” Reinhardt shook his head. “Calamity should tell you all you need to know. But this thing has wiped out civilizations. Argrave has long been privy to it. It’s why he’s done what

kept this from people?” Delbraun narrowed his

the margrave shook his head, long red hair

closer. “But we’re to be family by

He’s practically the king’s family, given his relation to Nikoletta—and that cousin of his is missing, searching for her father.” Reinhardt clenched his gauntleted hand, then stepped away in irritation. “A summit with most of the influential people in this continent approaches. We have more pressing concerns. Dirracha is within sight.” Reinhardt looked to the tent flaps, where

to discuss what it is the south wants from the king,”

had played up his offense at being excluded to force him to acquiesce to this talk of negotiations. “The war did much

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