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.”

wound, reshaping even the most barren wastelands into

he saw was the deity’s countless relatives—those Lindon ostensibly raised, nurtured, as family. Children were reflections of their parents, in part, and Argrave didn’t see budding blossoms of ambition. Neither did he see any burden from the Gilderwatcher’s fall from

and fearsome presence, Argrave had never once seen them use great force. Argrave knew Vasquer sustained herself not on the

rested in others. And that was

taken aback by the conviction on the man’s face.

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and dissuaded his brother from acting—Elenore, too, for that matter. She might’ve been more insistent, in fact. But 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

nod. And Elenore joined him in

hand out and said, “You wish from us nothing more than any other Gilderwatcher. You wish us

his eyes, listening, while Elenore crossed her

share all that we are with the same openness as we received it. You wish us to remain as one with

to writhe, and in moments the whole of them became calm. Lindon craned his silver body across

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.

head. “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 or will not, given the magnitude of what you intend to attempt. There are things even my mind cannot know, and that task

wrapping around them. When it met Argrave, he was greeted by

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spacing out. ‘Alright,

heard a voice, and whipped his head to spot Rook. When he looked around more, he realized that he stood in front of Raccomen’s gateway. His brain whirled, before he finally realized this was the spot where Lindon had first spoke to Argrave. He