To satiate his desire to gamble the fate of the universe, Argrave visited someone to enable him; a craftsman who was entirely ignorant of what these fruits were.

“I need you to make two four-sided dice that have a hollow space that could fit this fruit inside of it,” Argrave gestured toward the two of them. “I can’t accept them being damaged, so you’ll have to be gentle. On top of that, I need to be able to open up the die to remove the fruit inside. Do you think this is feasible?”

Dario looked at him incredibly strangely. “Why do you want to put a fruit inside a die?”

“Incredibly high-stakes gambling among the rich. Don’t question the whims and wishes of your betters,” he said, putting on a fake snobby voice.

Dario reached out and took the fruit. Argrave was deeply alarmed when he squeezed them slightly, but resisted the urge to snatch them out of his hand. “I suppose I could make a bizarre mold for a tetrahedron, split it in half, then add some mechanism for it to open and close that doesn’t disturb its balance nor open while being tossed.” The red-eyed man looked over coldly. “Alternatively, I could just make a pair of dice without all of this stupid stuff.”

Argrave shook his head adamantly. “Both have to be able to fit one fruit.”

Dario sighed. “Come back in three hours.”

He patted Dario on the shoulder with a smile, then turned and walked toward the exit. Anneliese stood there, and she gave him a disbelieving shake of her head when he walked by.

“You’re really doing this? Really? A game of dice for the fate of the Fruits of Being?”

Argrave protested, “Of course I’m not playing dice. That would be incredibly crude. Do you really think that I’m so irresponsible as to play a simple game of dice to distribute unimaginable power? That would be tactless. Impetuous. Harebrained. Ludicrous. Inconceivable, even, and I don’t use that word lightly.”

“…yet from the glee on your voice, you do have something in mind that involves those dice.”

“A sixteen-person lottery.” Argrave nodded. “Elegant. Sophisticated. Refined. A patrician fashion to decide the fate of the world, far removed from the crudeness of mere dice.”

Anneliese followed him along in silence, finally stunned into quietude by one of his antics. Argrave thought that it was one of the best ideas he’d ever had.

#####

looked up to greet him. She set her

spoken to me through our connection,” Elenore

slot on the top of it just large enough to fit a large hand through. He shook the box, keeping his hand over the top, then held

he told her. “Then, tell me

studied him with narrowed eyes.

held. “A black box, containing papers with numbers ranging eleven to fourteen, twenty-one to

doesn’t tell me anything,”

the box

through. She pulled free a crumpled piece of

his hand, and she deposited the paper back atop his

#####

courtyard of the parliamentary hall. “Elenore said you would be here. I have an important

do? I am at your

know that it

thrust the box out. “Draw a paper. Tell

the box and pulled a paper free. “Forty-two, it

paper and burnt it. “It means

#####

people—now fourteen, after his

statement considering his biological mother was also his first cousin,

a paper without question. He asked questions after, but Argrave gave no answers and left with the elf’s number. Argrave did question whether or not it might be a mistake

her condolences for Vasquer’s passing. She proved to be

come with them into the Shadowlands, because the space would be limited—a blatant lie. The man hemmed and hawed and protested, but he

received the same treatment Durran did. She tried to negotiate for an entry fee to the lottery—namely, that she would be paid to enter the lottery—but Argrave

magister afflicted with dwarfism, had been an arrogant if reliable ally. In the Bloodwoods he’d proven his worth many times over, especially in stressful situations. His mastery of the arcane made him a good candidate

demeanor and admit that this was rather important, and the man once of the subterranean mountain tribes unwittingly threw

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