Jackal Among Snakes

Artur sat in the dank and smelly altar, where the iron and rot of the blood pooling on the floor pervaded every inch of this place. He had refused to follow Argrave into the other realm not once, but twice. He didn’t think the king judged him for that fact, but it still weighed as his mind. He could not quite say why he followed the man into the portal leading to the vast steppes yet not the elven realm… and he hoped that would not make the king hold a grudge.

But waiting here was dreadfully boring. He was glad to have the chance to recover his magic, at the very least.

As he started to drift off, a voice cracked into Artur’s hearing, rousing him immediately.

“Artur Nibwyrm,” the woman said, and he jerked his head upwards to attention.

A white-haired woman with amber eyes stood before him. Upon seeing elven ears he briefly thought the queen had returned to him here, but her voice sounded nothing like the calm and even Anneliese’s. This woman… she was a monstrous spellcaster. People like Castro and Rowe were overwhelming, but Artur had never seen an earthly parallel to the sheer quantity of magic this woman exuded. Immediately, he came to attention, fruitless though it felt to try and defend against her weakened as he was.

“…who are you?” he demanded cautiously when she did nothing.

The woman held up a piece of paper and tossed it. It glided like a jellyfish through water, floating down towards Artur with eerie, unearthly grace. He was alarmed, but he did catch it. And when his fingers met the page, the woman burst into black mist, vanishing like she never was. Artur’s breath quickened, and though he looked around in alarm saw no sign of her anywhere.

Artur eventually swallowed and looked down at what she had handed him. It was a decadent thing as far as paper goes—gold trim, a wax seal. But what made Artur’s heart pound quicker was the fact that it was enchanted. This was no cheap enchanted scroll one might buy in a corner shop for a party trick. This was an elaborate enchantment, deep and rich enough Artur thought its like could only fit onto metal. It was far beyond what he was capable of.

The Magister looked around once again for the elven woman, but seeing he was alone opened the page. he read through it, and as he neared the end, his hands began to tremble. And when he read the last page and closed his eyes, the thing degraded before his very eyes. He didn’t seem alarmed at this—rather, it seemed he expected that. Artur’s eyes gleamed with a thousand colors, and he trembled in uncertainty.

#####

“I told you I could get you what you wanted, didn’t I?” Argrave said even as Merata seemed liable to mince him. “I can’t rebuild the elven empire of old. But I can give it a second chance in the new generation.”

“Are you fearless or ignorant? I cannot tell,” Gunlik joked from behind, leaning on his bow.

“Ganbaatar said it himself. He thinks I’m the greatest hope for the future of the elves,” Argrave pointed to his still-angry companion with his thumb. “With Kirel Qircassia coming, and his coalition surely nipping at his heels… do you think the way to restoration for your people is to kowtow before overwhelming force? Even now, I have little doubt those you call Woodschildren fight against the servants freed from Kirel’s realm. If one side is winning handily, why would there be a need to sue for peace? This is no equal struggle—this is his first wave of conquest.”

Merata’s red eyes narrowed. “A mortal younger than my shortest hair knows nothing of the judgment.”

Argrave nodded. “I’ve never been through one. But I’ve spoken to others who’ve been through it, and they imparted vast amounts of knowledge unto me.” He looked back to Ganbaatar. “The reason why your gods lost contact with those in the Bloodwoods is simple: their position here was weak. Their primary focus was surviving the cycle, and so communication and presence in the mortal realm suffered. In the last hundred years or so, it’s degraded over the years into no presence at all.”

boldness. You are weak. I could kill you with a twist of my wrist alone, and this is despite

its precarious position. “Whether Erlebnis, Fellhorn, or a Gilderwatcher ancestor of mine… I’ve soaked up

Dairi, goddess of

everyone is truly mortal,” Argrave carried on unflinchingly. “And though you are very far removed from those already living on the mortal realm… there, you’re not

said lightly, half a question and half a

against the crook. “You’ve seen some of it. I travelled through the Mother’s Steppe of the centaurs to reach your altars. There, I used souls to open the gates. And I offered a medallion stolen from Fellhorn to rouse Chiteng,” Argrave looked back to the still-standing god of flesh and blood. “Do you think that was something I stumbled into by accident? Of course not. I

his wrist, and the crook came free of Argrave’s neck. He hid it back

ones within… a land where the centaurs and all other foul beasts

Gunlik repeated, and the fire on his bowstring burned brighter. “No, it itches. It’s a rash

to rouse the rest of you—you saw them, surely. Elves, one and all, though of a different descendance than your Woodschildren. One is my wife. I don’t care about heritage, dignity, or pride. I’m just trying to ensure me and mine survive this cycle of judgement. And I hope I can

with the gods… though whether it made

on the mortal realm before others is a boon not even Kirel Qircassia might expect, and I can offer it to you without expecting anything in return. When your divine forms alight upon soil beyond

line,” Merata said before Argrave even finished

a few moments,

not when words spoken inspire

things aren’t decided on so quickly and unilaterally,”

with mortal minds,” Merata nodded. “But joining the Qircassian Coalition is no option at all. My family are survivors. We intend to be more. We were like you, once. Leaders of many. Now… the

said,

suppose I’ll speak to father,” Gunlik said, hefting his

Merata finished, turning back. “Chiteng shall

blinked. He had intended to

mortal realm before the arbiter thins the barrier enough for us

quickly until he remembered that Nikoletta might need more time. Still, his breath caught in his mouth as the whole of them turned and left,

said, then walked

me to be subtle, but was that really alright to

Chiteng stopped. “Say nothing. Think nothing. Do

does no good to