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.”

#####

still persisted 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

She clung onto some vain hope that she might’ve remedied things

tie with Erlebnis

the sole purpose of ending her life. She could not cope just thinking of

returned to this forest, to deliver a message… she was

letter for days on end. Still Anneliese came, again and again… offering words, offering comforts. She knew they were lies. As had always been the case, the

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

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 came day after day until they were more unbearable

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

dryads obeyed without question, and though it was perhaps her imagination, she thought they seemed almost eager to obey. Onychinusa slept there that night, her heart stirring in

And when Anneliese arrived…

stepped into sight, holding her

moment, but she was still unversed at talking to people. As her head grew white with rage, she

coming to stop at a comfortable distance. “Because it’s the most painful

forest to

regenerating magic… but… is that chain

the Lord! Stop coming here! You don’t care,”

ask Argrave about this,” Anneliese vowed. “I will help you remove that chain, I

Anneliese vanished, carried away

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

that clearing. And in turn, Anneliese’s return was

a thousand times, and Anneliese had explained herself just as many… and there was nothing

her… they gave not a single word of it. Yet Anneliese… still she came, day after day, no matter how

the inequity of it all, Onychinusa simply asked,

stared at her as she waited for an answer. Eventually,

words, but as