Jackal Among Snakes

Though the siege against Kirel Qircassia persisted above the skies in the Great Chu, Argrave was infinitely more engaged with the changes that had taken place within himself. He and his family returned to Blackgard, and thereafter to the mountains, enduring Raven’s constant scrutiny. Along the way, he explained to his companions what he believed he had experienced. But rather unexpectedly, he received contact from the source of all of this the moment his foot stepped back on Berendar soil.

“You work quickly. I thought we would again speak long after Vasquer had remembered that which she has forgotten,” Lindon observed, his voice bringing pause to Argrave’s step. “You walk a route that few before you have travelled. Only the dead, by this point.”

Argrave looked around, only to see that none of his people were moving. Another trick of the mind brought about by Lindon, but seeing it still made nervousness flourish in Argrave’s chest.

“Seems like the first order of business I have is shutting you out, somehow.” Argrave looked around, trying to sound disaffected despite the futility of deceiving the deity. “I was in the middle of something, Lindon.”

“That’s the second order of business. I’m sparing you the time you’re about to spend,” Lindon countered.

“You could’ve spared me the time a long time ago.”

“No. The terms of the treaty I forged were clear. I am disallowed to reach out to people unless they seek me out first, under extraordinary circumstances. In return, I am entitled to be able to perform some protective mental measures, such as obfuscation of my presence or that of the Gilderwatchers. I never expected to be able reach out to someone. The dictates of the treaty are so strict it was a wonder you met them at all. But circumstances are extraordinary, and you did seek me out. Dumb luck? Some grand plan? Shrewd planning in the negotiation, millennia ago? It hardly matters.”

Argrave poked Anneliese in the forehead to be sure she was still, then said idly, “By extraordinary circumstances, you’re talking about the changes to Gerechtigkeit.”

“I’m talking about Traugott, actually.” Lindon manifested before Argrave’s eyes—now a small serpent, comparatively, about twenty feet long.

“Him?” Argrave raised his brows. “We learned a little of where he’s been when we were travelling through the Tree of Being. What did we miss?”

“The glaring red flag. The Shadowlands,” Lindon explained, coiling his body until his head rested at Argrave’s height.

Argrave broke free of his companions, coming to stand just before the silver serpent. “I thought this would be about the Undying Soul he claimed, but it’s the Shadowlands? I’ve read about them more. According to Erlebnis’ records, they always appear when Gerechtigkeit descends. The creatures there are brutal, barbaric… but they’re not new. Even if Traugott did open a large portal, what’s the worst he could do?”

“You and he are parallels. You possess mortal sensibilities, but with immortal husks.”

was real, then? And Traugott,

vivid memories rose to Argrave’s mind unbidden. “With Norman’s body, born of Sophia’s power, he had a template. Through experimentation,

There, Traugott had made Good King Norman be born again innumerable times. It was only a small comfort that

the depth of his intelligence. He saw Sophia’s power not as just creation, but as the

Traugott possessing

sound like you admire

to impart some of that to you. If he could imbue that creation of his with the soul of a dog, why could

saying Traugott created a

mind. He saw various stages of experimentation, at a location rather like what Lindon had described—deep underwater, in a dome of air that persisted despite the ocean all around it. Argrave saw another figure there, with him—Fellhorn. The two seemed to be collaborating deeper after their victory versus

experimented with imbuing memories and personalities into the core of Norman. Countless creations were cast away into the ocean after he was done with them,

narrative has been taken

through the progression, Argrave came to a rather

said an immortal husk…” Argrave focused on Lindon. “Did you mean Traugott managed to imbue the body with the Undying Soul, bearing his

but not a wholly incorrect one.” Lindon’s silver eyes stayed

misshapen black lump that exuded unpleasant energy.

it?” Argrave asked, and received a silence he knew was affirmation. “This is why you said we’re parallels.” It dawned on

you are mortals with mortal sensibilities, yet possess a power that could be likened to a god. As you came to me and obtained the Fruit of Being, Traugott endeavored for so long on this matter to create a

of its body—nails, eyes, mouth, all of it. The blackness was so intense that it was impossible to make out distinguishing features. Argrave thought that the way it moved seemed familiar, and knew in his

“After assuming this form, Traugott entered the Shadowlands. He’s yet to return—and believe me, my kind watch everywhere. Watching, waiting—in

with a plan and help. Now, at the final hour, help

were conditions. Unspoken conditions. But you met them, by and large.” Argrave only blinked in confusion. Lindon said plainly, “If you act with largesse and benevolence, Argrave, you’ll find people seeking you out of their own volition. People like to feel good. There’s no denying

a strange swell of pride. A goodly man? Him? He’d always tried to be, yet to hear it had been the reason that good

he focused on Lindon’s strange intensity. “Do you know something about the Shadowlands

hands of one unversed in contentment or accepting of refusal will result in disastrous consequences. You have the anchor, Argrave. You have Sophia, and she’s been freed of the box the Heralds made for her. That means more than anyone knows, save the ones who placed her there. Traugott wants her desperately, and even I cannot say what he gleaned of her power from his constant experimentation. You cannot allow an inglorious psychopath to sabotage our would-be freedom from the hidden architects of the cycle. If the world should change, I would have it