Jackal Among Snakes

“Who are you?”

These were the first words to greet Argrave when he passed through the boundary between the looping Sandelabara and the one within the distortion. When he turned his head to the voice, which he realized belatedly was small and young, he laid eyes upon the small girl that’d been sitting in the hall with King Norman.

The girl wore the same red velvet dress he’d seen earlier, but she sat on the floor while clutching a doll close to her chest. The doll was that of a knight. She didn’t seem afraid of Argrave—defensive, maybe, but not afraid. Her red eyes, pale skin, and dark hair made her seem somewhat vampiric, but simultaneously strangely innocent. Her question made Argrave panic slightly.

“Me?” Argrave put his hand to his chest. “Well, I’m… I’m a… a friend,” he managed, doing his best to appear non-threatening.

She blinked at him a few times, while Argrave stayed as still as a cat. After a while, she slowly relaxed somewhat and began playing with another doll. The other of her two dolls seemed made in her image, but she seemed far more interested in the knight, and positioned herself protectively around it. Though she remained cautious, she did nothing more. Argrave thought her response was rather fortunate, yet… strange. Argrave thought himself rather large and threatening—in a child’s eye, at least—and feared that the girl might do something, call someone. He took the reprieve gratefully, looking around.

Argrave’s connection with Elenore was severed. He couldn’t feel it within his mind. He retained his magic, however, and so activated the lens that the Alchemist had lent him and peered around the room. Immediately, he saw countless things in great clarity. There were crimson distortions in the air, like thick strands of silk, all leading to the small girl. Their source was elsewhere. He saw nothing of the boundary back to where Anneliese and the rest might wait, but the strands did intrigue him. He wanted to follow it, but he thought it’d be best to remain cautious for now.

Argrave kneeled a comfortable distance away from the girl. “Now that you’ve asked me… can I ask who you are?”

The girl looked at him, and her neck stiffened. She practically scrambled to her feet, and as she did an elegant curtsy, and said very deliberately, “I am Princess Sophia Normansdottir.”

Argrave was taken aback by her movements, but said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Sophia. I’m Argrave.”

Sophia grew deathly still, and bit at her lips. “Did I… do it wrong?” He could hear some fear on her voice.

“What?” Argrave tilted her head, and seeing as she looked like she was about to cry, quickly added, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sophia.”

She let out a big sigh of relief and seemed to swallow tears. “Okay.”

wandered, but he asked,

at the ground immediately when

ask more questions when a knock at the door made him flinch. He didn’t flinch as hard as Sophia, though—she stood quickly, grabbed the knight doll, and rushed to a nearby dresser. She hid

about suspiciously. Perhaps she’d heard them speaking. In the end, finding nothing, the maid fixed her eyes upon Sophia. “Princess Sophia. Your father has commanded that you can no longer remain in your room. You are to join

her hand rather forcefully,

the ground,” the maid said, and even as Argrave’s anger rose, things fell into place. He was getting a very solid picture of why Sophia seemed liable to cry whenever she made a

now, this whole thing could fall apart. He triggered the lens of [Minor Truesight], and decided to follow the strands of red silken magic encircling the young princess while he gathered information. He left through the

was being naïve, and the young girl was truly

and in the castle simply called the place ‘Norman’s Castle.’ Though there were people with magic in them, there were no magic users. This city was the capital

the king in the other side of the boundary, where Anneliese and the rest remained. Argrave tried to see if he was deeply connected to this tapestry of power woven throughout the region, but as far

was King Norman’s only child. There was something fishy about that, though—people’s words lingered around that term, as though it was wrong to call her that. Argrave suspected an illegitimate child, but he wasn’t entirely certain. Argrave had missed this detail earlier, but now realized that all of the windows had been bricked away, not just the one in Sophia’s room. The employees complained

power were so omnipresent here that Argrave was forced to disable the [Minor Truesight] just to walk around the city with vision. There was a pattern to this madness—a source—but it had thus far eluded Argrave’s detection. The people

who invited him into her home, even despite his armor and suspicious size. They enjoyed some conversation, but there was only so much

himself. Perhaps things will change around here. The king sent those Flayer Knights around, house to house, and intimidated

“Flayer Knights?” Argrave asked.

he used to usurp Good King Charles, skin him,

younger man insisted, looking at Argrave in paranoia. “Who knows

consequences be damned,” she dismissed him. “Now, King Norman would have us forget his son, like he never was. The son he proudly paraded. The son he named his heir.” She looked at her kid. “It might’ve

the prince’s name?” Argrave

constantly had [Minor Truesight] working, and he flinched when the strand of power connected to her head writhed. Her eyes went rheumy, then

charged at Argrave, demanding, “What did you do? Mother? Mom?!” The son looked at him in abject fear as he backed away, then collapsed by his mother’s side. “You… You’re a kingsman. My mother, she… she spoke out of turn. You were right to do that. Please. I have children, and I’ll teach them good. Teach them right. We

door, cast one uneasy glance back at her body, and left. He walked out to the countryside to gather his thoughts, peering at where the portal to the planet’s core had once been. Now, there was only more country, and any evidence of that

terrible first impression on the citizenry were that the case. As he made to turn away, sudden movement caught his eye. He flipped his head back, and his eyes widened as he spotted a veritable army of golems marching out of thin air. He recognized them at once—the golems of the subterranean mountain people.