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 what you want

sometimes every color one could conceive. It probably had something

“I hope that Your Majesty will allow me to create an institution

their heads at this declaration. That was a significant statement, to say the least. Argrave took a long time to think about it before he

responded slowly, “The 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

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

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

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 silver bracer on your arm,” he pointed up to Argrave’ wrist. “If you allow me, I can give all of that to the crown. All of what you know, I

hang as they walked towards the distant altar. Argrave could hear their boots cutting through the grass as his mind thought of the

asked.

value of such an organization… and investments would be

“Power,” Argrave finished.

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 me. Or, as it was put to

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 was

back at the Order… I’ll say only that I intend to promote

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.

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.

backstory before. He knew Artur was from a peasant family,

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 have succumbed

you, would you have advanced so far? That was the

to be needed by, at this stage? You’re an S-rank spellcaster,” Nikoletta pointed

looked back to Argrave

and watched. “Anneliese has a

Artur

what you’re saying. You’ve proven yourself many times over in that engagement back there alone. But it’s not my sole decision, anymore. You’re 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

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

#####

that looked like hair burn and turn into liquids. Sarikiz had the souls of sixty tribes trapped in her

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

blinking open awake just as he did. Orion’s hand went to his sword at once the moment he saw

name is this?” Orion asked, stepping up to a slightly elevated place where the blood had