Jackal Among Snakes

What did Lindon want?

The only things that they had learned that might clue them in was what he had done and what he had said. He seemed to have vague dominion over much of the world, though was in some ways limited by the events of millennia past—unfortunately, Argrave hadn’t seen the details of this peace treaty to know how his vast power was limited. Despite his power, Lindon remained largely unseen, largely unfelt. He clearly could influence the world—the three of them, plus the city they had passed through, was evidence enough of that.

“He allowed us to come here,” Elenore’s voice entered his mind through Lira’s connection. “There’s significance to that act.”

Orion, however, spoke aloud. “Gods, no matter their kinship, remain ever-bound to their domain. Lindon has mastery over minds, dreams, and consciousness.”

As Argrave took in their opinions, accepting they were deferring to his choice for now, he had thoughts of his own. Was the answer in front of them, as plain as day? Had Lindon merely wanted the Fruit of Being? Even despite that bizarre journey they’d gone through, details remained muddled as to what that fruit actually was.

“I’d like to ask a question,” Argrave called out to Lindon as the tide of snakes raged all around him.

The tree that Lindon coiled about glowed brilliantly, and Argrave recognized that familiar sensation—the glow of amusement. Argrave thought the serpent’s silver maw was inches away from his face, yet somehow the deity moved it miles closer until Argrave could feel the warm breath from the serpent’s nose.

“I am glad the atmosphere did not make you act overeagerly,” Lindon said, his voice echoing around Argrave’s skull like a bullet ricocheting in a metal room. “You may each ask one, but I shall decide how to answer, if at all. Elenore has already expended hers.”

They looked between each other, and Argrave pointed to himself indicating he had something he wished to ask. Neither dissented, and so Argrave walked across the tide of gold.

“What are these Fruits of Being capable of?” Argrave asked.

“Being,” Lindon said as if it was a stupid question, and Argrave briefly considered if he was going to be mocked and answered with that alone before the snake continued. “Should you plant it into the ground, life would sprout; a Gilderwatcher, born of your collective will and tempered by ours. Such is how the first of us were born. We are will manifest, but the fruit is more than merely that. It is potential. It is the future.”

made greater, reforged by your will and that of those within the tree. Should you cut it, bountiful fertility will pour from its wound, reshaping even the most barren wastelands into fertile fields capable of growing crops enough to feed millions. Should you desire anything else of it, you need only act with conviction.

countless relatives—those Lindon ostensibly raised, nurtured, as family. Children were reflections of their parents, in part,

with any who was feasible—they wanted peace, and little more. Despite their great bulk and fearsome presence, Argrave had never once seen them use great force. Argrave knew Vasquer sustained herself not

And that was all the realization

to ask his questions, but he was taken aback by the conviction on the man’s face. His brother bunched his large black beard together and said, “I believe I

lifted without the

after everything they’d been through, they understood each other. Orion wasn’t dull-witted, or wrong, or malignant. He was merely different. Orion was as deserving as giving the answer

a nod. And Elenore joined him in

at Lindon, perched up and reaching toward heaven from atop his tree. He held his hand out and said, “You wish from

his eyes, listening, while Elenore crossed her arms

continued, “You want us to persist in this world, taking in its malevolence and benevolence with open hands. You wish us to return here, rest at the base of your tree, and share all

calm. Lindon craned his silver body across it all, coming down from the tree. His colossal

final answer?” Lindon’s voice tore into Argrave’s skull, almost enough to make him stagger. “Does he speak for all

“He does,” confirmed Elenore.

“Yep,” added Argrave.

“But… it’ll do, I suppose. One must be somewhat lenient with one’s blood. I want that, yes.” He slowly lowered his head, looking over them all. “But next time, I expect you to bring your children. And your spouses as well, even if they cannot participate fully in this great festival of Being. Hopefully, the next melding will not take place in a millennium. Even I cannot say whether it will

them. When it met Argrave, he was greeted

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out.

His brain whirled, before he finally realized this was the spot where Lindon had first spoke to Argrave. He turned