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.

that,” Argrave shook his head. “Say what

were strange eyes—sometimes gold, sometimes green, sometimes every

an institution

significant statement, to say the least. Argrave

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

“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 is enough to

took a deep breath, thinking. He hoped to delay the conversation and joked, “Well, we still have to talk to a god, first. Might not make it

of it. Physical enhancements, sight in darkness,

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

Argrave asked.

Your Majesty would realize the value of such an organization… and investments would be made,” Artur

“Power,” Argrave finished.

No, I don’t think it is that. All I want is something very simple. I want to ensure that no one can disregard me. Or, as it was put to me recently… look down on me,” he finished with

like these that reminded Argrave why he preferred to go everywhere with Anneliese. That sounded a plausible enough answer, but Argrave couldn’t tell what the man

to get back at the Order… I’ll say only

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.

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 at thirty that I learned I had a talent for magic. It felt like a blessing beyond compare…” he closed his eyes. “But even having learned so late in

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

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 have succumbed

all that mattered to you, would you have advanced so far? That was the main question he could think of, but he didn’t want to ask it. There was

stage? You’re an S-rank spellcaster,”

a glance, then looked back to Argrave in expectation without answering

watched.

Artur raised

on the 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 this. And when the time comes, your proposal will be put to the

hands together as he nodded. “So it is,

#####

like hair burn and turn into liquids. Sarikiz had the souls of sixty tribes trapped in her hair—though perhaps trapped is

was much the same as the first underground altar they had entered in many ways. It varied in two ways—namely,

emerged from the portal, blinking 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,

to a slightly elevated place where the blood had yet to