Jackal Among Snakes

“Did you let me win?” Durran asked Garm.

Just as it had been in their fight many months ago, Garm stood on his field of roses, though strangely they were white roses this time. Durran’s desert was black and endless, just as before, in mirror of the Burnt Desert. These battlefields allegedly mirrored their minds, whether here in the White Planes or back then, when their souls had done battle to eat each other.

“Let you win?” Garm repeated incredulously, narrowing his eyes. “I was a head on a stake, and I still clung onto hope of survival. You think I’d really let you win?”

Durran ground his glaive into the sand. “I don’t think you would’ve even risked the possibility of defeat by engaging me in a soul fight if you really wanted to live, wanted to win. You would’ve just let Argrave ferry you around, just as he had been. And hell, who knows—he might’ve come up with a real solution.”

“What do you want me to do about it now?” Garm shrugged. “Cry and confess on my knees? That isn’t how this ends.”

Durran sighed and looked up at the sky. “I don’t know. I…” he shook his head, then focused on Garm. “After Sethia, after failing like that, I really wanted any sort of power I could get my hands on.”

“So you got it,” Garm pointed out. “You’re casting A-rank spells as easy as a kid throws stone, thanks to you chomping down on my soul. You’re a master necromancer. You could make any kind of abomination out of any kind of flesh that you wanted, provided you’ve got the souls to fuel it. It’d be like muscle memory.”

“Shame you weren’t at S-rank,” Durran quipped. “Could’ve made things even easier.”

“My bad. I should’ve been a better sacrifice,” Garm said drolly.

“…nah,” Durran shook his head. “You shouldn’t have been a sacrifice at all.”

“The blazes are you sputtering about?” Garm pressed.

“Not right, what I did,” Durran focused on him. “A man tells me that he wants to die, and I let him because it aligned with my interests at the time. Sethia, banishment from my tribe… I was ruined, but it was no damn excuse to let what happened, happen.” He laughed and threw his hands up. “And then after that, I got all uppity with Argrave, went against his orders in stealing the margrave’s wyvern. Even if it was a misunderstanding… no excuse, really.”

“You’d throw away all the things I gave you? They say hindsight is perfect sight, but these are the words of a blind man.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would throw it away,” Durran nodded, stepping a little closer to Garm. “Throughout this whole journey, I came to really admire Argrave. Not because he’s talented, or because he’s some kind of saint… but just the sheer level that man will rise to say, ‘no, we’re doing it my way.’” He pointed as he said those words. “Very hard to insist you’re right when the whole word disagrees. But he’s kept up at it, I’ll be damned. And he is a decent person.”

“Are you in love with him? You’re both married. It’ll never happen, what you want.” Garm played the part of a sagely advisor.

Durran couldn’t muster laughter. “Fact is… I should’ve said no, Garm. I should’ve said that you’ll give me whatever I need from you, and you’ll live, you miserable prick.” He thumped his finger against Garm’s chest. “That’s what Argrave was doing, before I came along and ruined it.”

you should’ve,” Garm conceded.

what I want. But I feel damned empty inside when I cast a spell and just know how. Necromancy comes easy to me, but it feels terrible. I don’t think I could’ve earned freedom for the Burnt Desert without it… but from here on out, I can’t just accept what’s convenient. We’ll do it my damned way. The right way. I’m strong enough

instead he saw Galamon and Argrave sitting on the white ground and

sister,” Argrave called out. “She already went off to negotiate with the gods. How’d it go for

uhh… hmm.” He didn’t feel like talking, especially, after confronting

Argrave gestured vaguely. “Or wherever. Whole

I’ll

shrug, possessing tact enough to know not to press him. “Just remember what I told you. Wring

#####

tea cup that had a white liquid in it. She dared not drink whatever it was,

over his head. There was Yillinillnu, a graceful woman with a certain strangeness to her eyes and a different fashion than anything Elenore had seen before. Scrutiny of her eyes showed several differences from what Elenore

not from genetics. She wore a simple brown dress, with a shawl about her shoulders. The shawl looked to have been made by someone young, and indeed Elenore saw a name shoddily sewn in. It depicted a woman holding

looking between the three. “You’re

in sync with the other. “We were created by the White Planes. You stand before them, too, in your own aspect. In this way, your will is conveyed where it needs to be, without fear or prejudice. You speak to blank slates that respond on the other side through your aspect accordingly. In this manner, should we come to no accord, there will be no

difficulty conceptualizing that. Did this mean that, somewhere in these endless white expanses, there was an aspect of her, communicating the desires she held? But after thinking on it deeper, she decided she was not one to question its convenience, doubly so when it came

hesitated to divulge these secrets, but she trusted Argrave that this place would ensure no rumors would leak out if no accord was made. “I came here seeking an alliance. We

all interested in you, Princess Elenore of Vasquer,” they said, still eerily linked. “And we

the fact that she was pleased before she questioned if hiding anything might be

a market so grand in size it seemed to threaten to consume this endless whiteness. When he clenched shut his gauntleted hand, it vanished. “You would be linked to my people around the world. Each and all are masters of commerce, just as you are, and have resources at their disposal equal or greater to yours. Be it across the oceans or more simply the continent, you will not want. All I ask is that you aid in

nodded carefully, then looked to Yillinillnu. “And

negotiation,” the goddess’ aspect said. “But in turn, I can give you all of my blessings. The thoughts within your mind will spill from your lips perfectly, and you will always present yourself as you wish to be seen. You will never again suffer an embarrassment, or misspeak. If you wish to lie, your deceitful words will fool all eyes, even a god’s. And a subordinate or

the situations in which each might’ve been useful. After a time,

may never again be truly separate from someone else. You may converse with them

as you have these privileges, so too may they exploit them. Once formed, connections cannot be broken until death. You must always hear them when they wish to be heard, even vitriol alone. When they wish to visit, you must receive them, even if they come to end your life. When they give, you must accept, even if it is a dagger plunged into your heart. It is an ultimate expression of trust,” Lira cautioned. “And I create, not destroy—you would receive no aid against Erlebnis from this old crone. All I ask

could, right from the beginning. There was no room to get more, no room for further bargaining…

earlier had an effect on her. Perhaps she felt that the others were simply inferior. But given the choice between a global bazaar, a boon to her diplomacy, or connecting with all she wished to… choosing the latter was

looked to Lira. “If you would

and only the

with family wherever they are in the world? To be able to give them things, or to connect two areas wherever I