Jackal Among Snakes

When Argrave gained awareness of his surroundings once more, he stared at an old man behind a desk. The man wore a jet-black suit, and had one leg crossed over the other. His eyes gleamed gold, and he had a sharp beard and slicked back gray hair that accentuated his sharp and almost devilish features.

“I always knew we’d be speaking someday,” said the Keeper of the Annals. “The day that you were recorded within the Annals, I knew I’d see you here. I thought it would be in a more servile manner, granted, yet here you are all the same.”

Argrave tried to look, move, but both actions failed him. This man was the Keeper—he was the one who delivered knowledge onto the recipient in Erlebnis’ Annals of the Universe. In this condition, Argrave was unable to move, speak, or do anything at all, because he wasn’t physically here. Everything he saw was what he thought, and what he imagined.

“Sifting around in that head of yours was very entertaining,” the Keeper said, switching his crossed legs. “A shame I can keep none of what’s in there. But I’m not here to talk. I’m here to… contextualize,” the old man held out his hands. “Help you make sense of the records we have.”

The Keeper rose to his feet, striding around the desk until he sat atop the desk just before Argrave in his strange captivity. “Unfortunately, we aren’t privy to the details of the birth of the man you know as the Alchemist. We know him as Raven. He tells no one about his past, and any who might know it are dead or… indisposed. The information we possess leads us to believe we don’t know about his birth because it was insignificant. Because he was insignificant. He rose above that, obviously.”

The Keeper reached out of Argrave’s view, and then grabbed something. He pulled a monitor on a metal arm down before them, and Argrave’s metaphorical eyes jumped out of his metaphorical head. But then, the Keeper was in a classic suit, clearly foreign to this realm—perhaps a monitor was not so far-fetched, as both were figments of his imagination meant to process the information the book imparted.

“This thing—so convenient,” the Keeper marveled. “A shame I cannot keep your memory of this. But enough talk,” the old man looked at Argrave firmly. “Enjoy the tale of the Smiling Raven… or as he was known before his immortality, just Raven.”

Just then, a black raven dove out of the screen at Argrave’s face. And the last thing he saw before his vision distorted was its beady gray eyes, closing in on his.

#####

“Tell me more of this Smiling Raven,” a voice said—Argrave felt as though it came from his mouth, but as his eyes finally managed to move, he spotted the Keeper.

The Keeper unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down upon a rock before Argrave, and time froze. “Our first record of the Smiling Raven came from an emissary’s scouting duty. He was speaking to an informant of ours—an acolyte to the goddess Hause.” The old man reached into his suit pocket and pulled free a small black remote. He pressed the play button, and the scene resumed.

Argrave refocused on what was ahead. “The Smiling Raven?” the contact repeated. Argrave could distinguish no details about this figure—he wasn’t allowed access to that knowledge, apparently. “Hause gave him the name, but he sticks with just ‘Raven.’ No one knows much about him. Hause took him in during this cycle—apparently, she went out of her way to retrieve him, to name him her champion. The whole thing was very hush-hush. That’s not unusual.”

“And his disposition?” the emissary pressed.

he’s somewhat doubtful of the whole idea of faith,” the contact explained. “There is one strange thing, though. Hause refuses to disclose

tilted its head, and Argrave’s vision shifted with it. “Any idea

is that her refusal annoys Raven most of all. He was a spellcaster before all of this, apparently. Fancies himself the knower of the unknown—you know the type. Might be

He tossed the remote aside, buttoned his suit, and then snapped. The scene faded away, coalescing into the figure of a woman. She looked young—a teenager, perhaps, though there was a mystic air about her. Her white skin was flawless, and her blonde hair

her, because her sphere was rather… compelling.” The Keeper stepped up to her side, arms crossed around his back. “She governed potential. She was the closest thing to a seer among any of the gods, either now or then. She could see the innate potential of anyone she laid eyes upon. And she saw something in Raven. Well… the Smiling Raven, as she named him, wanted to know what she saw,” the Keeper continued, stepping up to Argrave. “He wanted to know what he was, just like

raven broke free of

#####

went through to investigate things, the wide net of informants, witting and unwitting, that he cast in his pursuit of faint leads. It was

proxy, wringing every last bit of information out. Argrave realized that he would need to modify his Domain of Order in Blackgard if he truly hoped

desire to know more led him away from her side, for she offered no answers that were satisfactory.

through things long forgotten, the kaleidoscope faded away and one scene came to the forefront of Argrave’s journey of the mind. He beheld the Alchemist—the Smiling Raven, or more simply Raven—for the first time

“Is that so much to ask

Yet some aspects of the Alchemist that Argrave knew persisted. Even at this time, he still possessed mastery over his body. A cloak of raven feathers descended down from his neck, making him appear larger and more regal than he was. But of yet, that was the extent of

the realm of any magic I’ve learned. I will

his self-image, apparently. If that were true, it meant that Argrave

Raven sagely. “To deny you that is an

turn me,” Raven shook his head. “Whether in my magic order, the royal palace, or

a little more to you now, don’t they?” the emissary held its grotesque arms out, and Raven flinched in obvious disgust. “With

loathes conversation because his thoughts are his body. He has abandoned this Raven fellow you see, now. If he does not fully assume the identity of the Alchemist, he may shift away from

she picked me. And you claim the reason she picked me is the reason why she will not tell me my potential. She believes that if I learn my prospects, my body will

the emissary

to distinguish this from another machination of the god

knowledge has only knowledge,” the emissary claimed. “And we have learned that Hause ensures all of her other servants know precisely where you are,