Jackal Among Snakes

“Be careful,” Argrave told Anneliese as he held her hand. “I think’s it’s pretty well-established you can take care of yourself, but I always hate sending you off.”

“I know. You want to protect me.” She leaned in and kissed him. “But need I remind you… that you still have to catch up to me?” With a cheeky smile, she turned away and walked off, and Argrave’s hand slid off hers. “So, go do that. And you be careful.”

Argrave chuckled and smiled, watching as she walked away. When he turned back, his party was waiting. It was the smallest, yet perhaps the most potent—Artur, Vasilisa, Orion, Ganbaatar, and some of the first people he’d met on this realm… namely, Nikoletta and Mina. He’d changed a lot since meeting the two of them. And maybe they’d changed, too.

Orion carried a glowing section of Sarikiz’s dreaded hair, bound in a red rope that made it look like magical wheat. Artur relaxed on the grassy ground, staring up into the sky nonchalantly. Mina and Nikoletta talked amongst themselves, and Vasilisa caressed her forehead as though she had a headache. Ganbaatar seemed eager to move.

“You two are probably wondering why I wanted you with me,” Argrave said, directing his voice towards the ducal heir and her good friend. “Well, it’s simple. I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about my promise to ask the elves to search for Duke Rovostar and your father.”

Nikoletta looked surprised, and she crossed her arms and said quietly, “That’s… benevolent.”

Argrave stared at her when she gave that response. Things had changed, he was realizing. Now that he was king, people called basic human kindness ‘benevolence.’ All he was doing was what he thought was right. Maybe that had never changed.

He rolled his shoulders to dismiss his thoughts and said, “Let’s go.”

#####

As they walked across the grasslands, Argrave found himself very out of sorts. Galamon, Durran, and now even Anneliese were absent. He wasn’t quite at ease with Orion yet, and though he liked Vasilisa well enough he’d yet to build the same rapport he had with his mainstay companions. And as they walked…

“Might I steal a moment of your time, Your Majesty?”

Argrave looked to his right, and then far down to spot Artur’s shaggy head of brown hair. The Magister had expended much of his magic reserves in the fight against the wood elves’ Tumen and had asked them to slow so that he might walk with them—his enchantments drew from his magic supply, after all, and he needed that to replenish.

“Steal? Didn’t take you for a thief,” Argrave said lightly, giving a non-answer.

Artur laughed, though Argrave didn’t think his own joke was particularly funny. When he settled, the Magister cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to be blunt, Your Majesty, because I don’t think you care for delicate speech.”

Argrave spared the stunted man a glance, then turned his head back to the grasslands ahead. His cynicism flared, telling him that now was the time the cost of this man’s favor showed up on the balance sheet.

“I have a certain fondness for delicate speech,” Argrave admitted. “It’s saved my life a few times. And now I’m going to go talk to a god again—I hope I have a talent for it, as I think I do.”

“Again?” Artur repeated.

shook his head. “Say

eyes on Argrave. They were strange eyes—sometimes gold, sometimes green, sometimes every color one could conceive. It probably had something to do with

will allow me to create an institution subordinate to the crown, focusing on rediscovery, research, and development

say the least. Argrave took a long time to think about it before he said anything—time which

Order of the Gray Owl does that already. Technically, they’re supposed to have a monopoly on all magical knowledge… but such a thing is almost impossible to enforce, given the autonomy of each Order member. Still, it has prevented other rival magical organizations from popping up in the kingdom.” Argrave turned his head. “…given the request, I imagine you want me

admitted. “I would prefer to be completely unrelated to the Order. I think that, in the years to come, the title of Magister won’t have much weight to it anymore. And I think you’re to blame, Your Majesty. You know things. This journey here

“Well, we still have to talk

guarantee Your Majesty that the armor you wear has no modern equal,” the Magister continued, unwilling to allow himself to be diverted. “And as more and more relics of ancient civilizations surface… I can make their secrets mine, I’m sure of it. Physical enhancements, sight in darkness, resistance to poison or disease, or things like that

then let the silence hang as they walked towards the distant altar. Argrave could hear their boots cutting through the grass as his mind thought of the matter. He didn’t think Artur was

Argrave asked. “What’s your

would be made,” Artur said diplomatically. “To do away with delicate

“Power,” Argrave finished.

few moments, and then back to the grasslands ahead. “I suppose you could call it that, yes. But… no. No, I don’t think it is that. All I want is something very simple. I want to ensure that no one can disregard

everywhere with Anneliese. That sounded a plausible enough answer, but

day of the royal summit,” Argrave said quietly. “If you intend to get back at the

a king forged as you were,” Artur nodded like that was expected. “When I was young, I learned something. My parents were farmers in the farthest northern region of Atrus, just beyond the southern border of the old Queendom of Quadreign. Farming was tremendously difficult work, and doubly so in that region of cold, infertile fields. They had no use for a child like me. With this stunted body of mine, I was incapable of so much of what they needed—stout labor, endurance, general physical capability. I learned, then, a simple

who were ignorant of how much was in a single bushel—this was long before Felipe’s conquest of the region. I was… ten, perhaps? From there, I took on more and more… I became literate, helped people with trade, learned medicine… it was a life of constantly striving to fill roles that were needed. It was only

never heard this backstory before. He knew Artur was from a peasant family, but not much

motivations for founding this institution, but if you allow me, I will become an irreplaceable help to you. I’ve been doing it my entire life, after all. I didn’t wallow in self-pity. I would

else gathered around. If being needed was all that mattered to you, would you have advanced so far? That was the main question he could think of, but

by, at this stage? You’re an S-rank spellcaster,” Nikoletta pointed out, voicing Argrave’s

regarded her with a glance, then looked back

leaned against the stone and watched. “Anneliese has

Artur raised

parliament—you know I intend for a future where it has more importance in day-to-day governance of Vasquer.” He looked at Orion. “For now, we take care of all

composure quickly and wrung his hands together as he nodded. “So it is, Your Majesty. So long as you know

#####

like hair burn and turn into liquids. Sarikiz had the souls of sixty tribes trapped in her hair—though perhaps trapped is the wrong word, for it implied that it was

room in light. This new stone building was much the same as the first underground altar they had entered in many ways. It varied in two ways—namely, the fact that there were many more entrances, and the fact that it was flooded with blood. Argrave lifted his right foot up and looked

open awake just as he did. Orion’s hand went to his sword at once the moment he saw the room lit by spell light. “Easy, now,” Argrave told him. “Might be you swing at one of the others

to a slightly elevated place where the blood had yet