Jackal Among Snakes

“I don’t want her to hate us, but I understand why she does,” Argrave nodded as the dryads grew closer. “So long as she knows that we did what we did to hurt Erlebnis, not her.”

“Please, give this to her!” Anneliese called out, retrieving a paper from her pockets. She dropped it in the air, and then grabbed Argrave’s hand. With that left behind, she cast shamanic magic to transport them elsewhere.

When Argrave adjusted to his surroundings, he realized they were once again outside the Bloodwoods at the fringe of the giant redwoods where the battle between Kirel Qircassia and Sarikiz had taken place. He looked for Anneliese and asked, “You wrote a letter? When?”

“At Elenore’s office.” Anneliese crossed her arms defensively.

“Well… we know she’s alive,” Argrave said with as much brightness as such a statement could muster.

“We have to keep visiting her.” Anneliese told Argrave. She generally always made suggestions instead of demands, and Argrave was surprised to hear her speak so absolutely.

“If we receive the same reception every time… we’ll be burning through the spirits painstakingly collected from Chiteng’s sacrifice,” Argrave reminded her.

“I believe that would be more prudent than allowing a force of dryads persist in the center of allied territory. A force that might seek revenge against the elves at Onychinusa’s behest,” she rebuked in turn. “Please, Argrave. I will go alone henceforth to conserve spirits. I was the one that insisted on this to begin with. Let her be my responsibility.”

Argrave sighed and stepped away, thinking on this. He was greatly hesitant to allow spirits to be expended for something that might not even work. But then… this was Anneliese. She had been promising to die with him not days ago. Thinking of that, Argrave felt a little guilty for his hesitation.

“She’s too old for adoption,” Argrave looked back. “And we’re both too young for a child that age.”

Anneliese smiled, knowing from his disposition he wasn’t genuinely refusing her. “It’ll be practice.”

“Alright, go ahead.” Argrave threw up his hands. “But be very careful, Anne. Promise me that.”

“Of course.” Anneliese nodded. “For now, you must work closely with the elven armies. I shall visit every day until I am no longer refused.”

#####

in her shoulder… and it still debilitated her A-rank ascension. She could not transform her body into magic and dance through the air… indeed, she could not even reconstitute herself as her magic supply replenished. Her leg had been severed in the fighting, and it remained so—the only reason that wound had not been the death of her was because the dryads wove branches through her flesh, staunching

the emissaries’ attack. In the first few hours after her report to Erlebnis, she hated the dryads for interfering in that moment. She clung onto some vain hope that she might’ve remedied things with Erlebnis… but that hate vanished in wake of their earnest devotion, and further upon the persistent chain lodged

with Erlebnis was

to attack her, to kill her. The red chain of liquid metal came from a spell she did not know, but it had been on-hand for the sole purpose of ending her life. She could

so too did she blame the royal pair for turning Erlebnis against her. And when she learned they had returned to this forest, to deliver a message… she was livid enough to crawl to hunt them down. Her

and again… offering words, offering comforts. She knew they were lies. As had always been the case, the snow elf lied. Even

empty platitudes and impossible promises within Anneliese’s letter stoked Onychinusa’s fury, and she ordered the dryads resume their assault redoubled. She was angry at herself for allowing her fire to wane, and so read the letter night after night to keep her rage

she did. Just as this woman had been the source of her greatest misery, so too did she understand precisely what that misery was. And with that taking root, Onychinusa’s feverish swings between wrath and solemn sadness

day, in one such solemn mood, Onychinusa commanded, “Place me beneath the tree in the clearing where

imagination, she thought they seemed almost eager to obey. Onychinusa slept there

And when Anneliese arrived…

Onychinusa…” Anneliese began the moment she stepped into sight, holding her hand near her mouth in shock. “Your leg…

unversed at talking to people. As her head grew white with rage,

at a comfortable

forest to stand near her protectively. “Stop coming here,” she commanded. “I don’t

me that you could heal yourself by regenerating magic… but… is that chain stopping it?”

strain, and as tears rose she yelled, “It’s your fault! You just wanted to hurt the Lord! Stop coming here! You don’t care,” she finished, weakly raising her hand to

Anneliese vowed. “I will

dryads began their assault, but Anneliese vanished, carried away by her spirits and

she’d been hit by. Onychinusa barely paid attention, thinking only of what she might say

day, she stayed in that clearing. And in turn, Anneliese’s return was as constant as

a thousand times, and Anneliese had explained herself just as many…

nothing more than words of comfort, of promise. When she thought back on the moment the emissaries had attacked her… they gave not a single word of it. Yet

by the inequity of it all,

she waited for an answer. Eventually, the snow elf managed, “Erlebnis likely determined the likely risk versus the likely reward. You must

as she sat on them