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.

of faith,” the contact explained. “There is one strange thing, though. Hause refuses to disclose why she took

tilted its head, and

contact said. “All I know 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 you work with

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 had the faintest highlights of auburn at its

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,

Keeper grinned brightly, showing his white teeth. A raven broke free of them, once again

#####

a kaleidoscope. It all illustrated the vast complexity of Erlebnis’ schemes—the lengths that he went through to investigate things, the wide net of informants, witting and unwitting,

constantly scrutinized everything—cities, towns, and the smallest of villages, looking for anything that was discarded or dropped. Beggars, hunters, administrators, nobles, and even kings… he employed them directly or by 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 to be rid of Erlebnis’ influence. Even

was not permitted to have. His desire to know more led him away from her side, for she offered no answers that were satisfactory. He followed subtle hints, leading questions, cleverly placed notes and clues…

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 in Erlebnis’ long plot against Hause. And the man he

answers,” Raven said. “Is that so much to ask of

Alchemist that Argrave knew persisted. Even at this time, he still possessed mastery over his body. A cloak of raven feathers descended down from

my body mirror my self-image. That is a power beyond the realm of any magic I’ve learned. I will fight Gerechtigkeit, as she wishes. But I need answers to do

vested in him by a god. His body mirrored his self-image, apparently. If that were true, it meant that Argrave saw the Alchemist as he

path,” the emissary told Raven sagely. “To deny you that is an answer within

in my magic order,

grotesque arms out, and Raven flinched in obvious disgust. “With words alone, your

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 that. He may, once again, become the fragile man you see here,

tell me why she picked me. And you claim the reason she picked me is the

do,” the emissary

just claims, more to distinguish this from another machination of the

that Hause ensures all of her other servants know precisely where you