Argrave and Anneliese both stared at the number that had come up on the die. The first winner of the lottery had been acceptable, but the second…

“…I didn’t think that…” Argrave babbled, searching for justification for his choice. “I mean, the people I put on the lottery were the ones that evoked a strong impression during our journey. I thought that the fruit would filter out the outliers.”

Anneliese looked at him. “Evidently not.”

Argrave stared at the inscribed number one. “What do I do? I mean, this can’t be right, can it?”

Anneliese chewed on her lower lip. “Reroll it,” she encouraged him.

“Reroll it?” He repeated incredulously. “That defeats the whole integrity of the lottery! How can anything be sacred if—”

“The whole reason you did this was to let the fruit choose, right?” Anneliese looked at him. “If that’s true, it’ll repeat the result.”

Argrave was hesitant to follow through with the reroll for the principle of the thing, but her words made sense. With his eyes closed, he dropped the die to the floor once more. After it settled, they looked at the number. Four. They shared a glance, and their faces hardened. Anneliese knelt down and picked up the die, then dropped it again.

One. Put four and one together, there’s forty-one—the same as last time.

“…good lord,” Argrave muttered, hand held up to his mouth. “I don’t know what to say.”

Anneliese looked at him pointedly. “Respect the fruit,” she repeated his earlier words. “Let it guide you.”

Argrave twisted the top of the pyramidal die, and it split open. He extracted the fruit from within, then looked around. “I, uhh… I think I’ll deliver the first one. I need to think about what I’m going to say to the second. I need to think about what I’m going to do.”

#####

Argrave knocked on the door, and a female’s voice answered, “Come in.”

He entered, looking upon where Elenore and Durran had their dinner. It seemed a rather soothing atmosphere, and both looked upon him as if he had disturbed something. He held the fruit behind his back as a world-bending surprise. Hopefully, it might be a pleasant dessert after their meal.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you,” he said, looking between them. “Hopefully, the news that I bring will make you a little more able to suffer my presence.”

“Pull up a chair,” Elenore offered. “We were discussing the strange shenanigans you pulled today. That little box.” She shook her head. “I don’t think you intend to conscript me for the draft, so it must be something else. I think it’s a task of some kind—something unpleasant, but something that doesn’t require physicality.”

“I’m the optimist. I imagine it’s something nice,” Durran countered. “Honestly I agree with her, but I’m taking the opposing side because it’s more interesting.”

golden Fruit of

sharp enough to bore a hole through his head. “You’d better be joking, Argrave. You

her, pointing at the fruit.

inside, and then let the fruit decide,”

covered her eyes with her hand, pushing aside her dinner with her elbows as she leaned against the table. Durran simply started laughing, and eventually pounded the table

adding conviction to his words. “Every roll, it came up with the same result. That means something.

Or, it was simply random chance. And even if it did choose, would you consider

didn’t want to spend the rest of my life questioning

who we’ve lost?” Elenore’s voice cracked. “Forget fair. The world isn’t

be,” he said softly

to say, but his words made her hold her tongue. She placed her hands on the table, her temper cooling somewhat. Durran placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. Meanwhile,

who won? If you say Melanie…”

debating changing his mind at the last moment. Maybe Elenore was right. Maybe this entire idea had been a mistake from the beginning. What did

fruit out to

has to be. You’re checking if… hell, I don’t know. You’re checking if I’m willing to

has been misappropriated; report any instances

sound demented,” Argrave chuckled. “Why can’t it

lucky.” Durran tapped his chest. “I got my one piece of good luck—your sister. The chances of getting luckier after that… astronomically

her face away, hiding a slight smile. Her protests had vanished like morning dew now that she knew its recipient. Argrave assumed she had protested so vigorously because she suspected she had gotten it instead of

16/16. The fruit chose you, Durran.” Argrave held it

gently. He weighed it in his hand, then locked gazes with Argrave. “Did it hurt? Historically, anything

even notice a difference,

Yeah.” He made for the exit, and he started laughing as he stared at it. “Lottery… the damn lottery,”

“I hope

to the next…” he sighed. “Good lord… trust the fruit. Trust

#####

industry in the building ahead of him. He looked to

guide us. And so it has guided. The fruit does not err.

he interrupted, and Anneliese giggled before regaining her composure.

diligently to process metal, enchanters overseeing the whole process like hawks looking for prey. Their prey, however, was any mistake in the production process. Here, Artur, formerly a Magister of the Gray Owl, had carved this hall in the mountain

capitalist through-and-through, born in the wrong era. Argrave had merely made it the right era for him. Now, this place had artificers of every stripe. He worked closely with Elenore to fuel Vasquer’s war economy, and a few other

busy. Even the supervisors were working. Argrave knew that supervisors didn’t actually do any work, so it was strange. There wasn’t even someone waiting to greet him. Argrave knew where Artur’s office was, however, so he merely walked down the vast hall for one

been before, this was a multi-story building without stairs. Instead, levitating stone platforms as seen in Order elevators carried everyone everywhere. Offices lined the two side walls in long rows, all of them reachable only by levitation. Argrave was about

Hall of Enchantment will be an embarrassment in front of all spellcasters of any esteem. The queen herself, Her Highness Anneliese, will be presiding over it. I’m paying you good money, aren’t I? Each and every one

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