Jackal Among Snakes

When Argrave and Anneliese emerged from the Alchemist's fortress of obsidian, their party stepped forward eagerly to receive them. They had all seen the strange chimera named Pawn imitating Argrave, and now concern drove them in greeting. Their eagerness was abated by the looming giant that followed them. As the Alchemist exited, the vast black doors closed shut, pulled closed by an unseen force.

When finally the two groups met, Argrave looked between everyone awkwardly. He patted the side of his legs and declared, "We've come to an accommodation."

"And what is the cost?" Castro questioned, supporting Ingo on his right. The blue-haired man stared up at Argrave from his stupor, appearing able to think clearer than most times at present.

Argrave looked down to the old tower master. “I think you’ll be rather pleased. The Alchemist has agreed to extract Ingo’s blessing, asking for nothing more than the privilege of performing process itself and the waste from its results.” He glanced back at the giant behind, its pale hands held neatly before it. “You’ll need to ask more specific details from him.”

“No…!” Ingo said, attempting to shout but lacking the strength. He pushed off from Castro and lurched forward. Castro tried to stop him, but managed only to make Ingo kneel instead of faceplant. “I told you that my eyes are needed. Take them as you claimed eyes here before, and evolve once again,” he pleaded. “You’ll die. We’ll all die.”

“Being able to use your body until its death is not a satisfying enough trade when the blessing might be mine,” the Alchemist said. “I have plans for it.”

“Ingo, what…?” Castro looked bewildered, eyes darting from all who had spoken.

“Ingo wanted me to offer his life to the Alchemist so that I might get his blessing for myself—well, an improved version, at least.” Argrave knelt down before the collapsed Ingo. “But you heard the Alchemist. He doesn’t need or want your life for this. And the fact that you didn’t know that, Ingo, shows the limit of your ability. If the god who gave it to you cannot end the cycle of judgment, what hope have I? No… I have another route. My own. The only one that suits me.”

“But the shadow… the shadow grows so tall. And you’ve burned alone so long,” Ingo said, eyes bloodshot.

“This is no way forward.” Argrave rose to his feet. “I never thought this would be easy. But historically, I’ve never really fought someone on an equal level to me, so I’m well used to tall shadows and things beyond my ken. Let me worry about Mozzahr, and banish these ideas about sacrifice.” He looked at Castro. “The Alchemist will cure your apprentice, and he’ll live. Rest assured.”

Castro looked like many things—indignant he was lied to, grateful Argrave had refused Ingo, and confused about the future. But the man was a leader through and through, and so nodded, accepting the situation calmly and choosing the best option. Argrave glanced back, nodding at the titan who’d become his ally.

The Alchemist looked down on Castro as though the S-rank spellcaster was as insignificant as an ant and said, “Bring him. Do not speak or act against me. I have promised no harm will come to Argrave’s allies, so long as they do not push their boundary.”

to him.

back at the Alchemist. “You seem to forget that I am well-versed in knowing when I am outmatched. I was not always the tower master—I’ve avoided stepping on toes for a long, long period of my life.” The tower master left questions that undoubtedly burned in his mind unspoken, and instead merely asked, “You’ll

all goes my way.” Argrave shook his head. “I’ll be

will you be doing?” Castro

a glance toward Orion. “Family

#####

Ingo’s blessing was not something that suited him—Erlebnis’ alone was more than he needed at this stage. When the doors shut behind them, Argrave shifted his feet

Orion pressed, eager

as his royal guard. The idea of mentioning what he was about to mention to Orion, of all people, was an idea that never would have crossed his mind at almost any point. But Orion had changed significantly—his anger was curbed, his zeal was diminished—or redirected,

that buried Felipe after he died,” Argrave began hesitantly,

long moment, and then reached for his helmet. He took it off, struggling briefly to disentangle his long braid of black hair and bushy black beard. When it was off, he held it in the crook

things between Elenore and I.” He looked off to the side. “Even though you hate him… and Elenore, far more justly so… he is still my father. He deserved a burial, not to rot in some mass grave, and so I gave him

it

hesitating a heartbeat. “Elenore would not allow that.” He lowered his head in resignation. “Induen was interred there, but not Felipe. Nor Levin, for that matter. I buried them together, at a spot intimately

sighed and looked around, trying to conjure words. He dared

#####

a rising headache. She looked at the messenger that had

the wooden chair. The Margrave of Parbon seemed to frown at the use of comfortable furniture, and after riding a beast like a wyvern

affect and began, “You were instructed

the whole of that city, just waiting, like little beacons calling out to us. I never saw hide nor hair of the Ebon Cult,

surprised. Then, she leaned forward and demanded

you—messages,” she explained, then laid out a paper.