Jackal Among Snakes

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.”

prize—the golden Fruit of Being. “I’d say it’s

hole through his head. “You’d better be joking, Argrave.

the fruit.

a four-sided die, fit it inside, and then let the fruit decide,” Argrave

her elbows as she leaned against

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

glare. “Or, the die was badly balanced. Or, it was simply random chance. And even if it

I tested it!” He looked between them. “Look. Everyone was asking me to choose who to bestow a tremendous gift upon. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life questioning if I made the right or wrong choice, or if I hadn’t suitably repaid the efforts of the people

about fair, after who we’ve lost?” Elenore’s voice cracked. “Forget

mean we can’t be,” he said softly

tongue. She placed her hands on the table, her temper cooling somewhat. Durran placed his hand

won? If you say

fruit, debating changing his mind at the last moment. Maybe Elenore was right. Maybe this entire idea

out

over. He stared for a few moments, then nodded his head with a grin on his face. “Oh, I get it. This is a test—it has to be. You’re checking if… hell, I don’t know. You’re checking if I’m willing to be selfless enough to give up the fruit, because I know there’s someone better it should go

been misappropriated; report any instances of this story

Argrave chuckled. “Why

got my one piece of good luck—your sister. The

that she knew its recipient. Argrave assumed she had protested so vigorously because she

chose you, Durran.” Argrave held it out further. “Don’t look a gift fruit in the mouth.

delicately, as if he was trying to pet a flighty bunny, then grasped the fruit gently. He weighed it in

a difference, but I

I’ll go eat this on my bed, then. Yeah.” He made for the exit, and he started laughing as he stared at it. “Lottery… the damn lottery,” he laughed. “Smell that air! Couldn’t you just

“I hope this isn’t a

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

#####

the building ahead of

she reminded him almost mockingly by this point. “You told me to let it guide us. And so it has

before regaining her composure. “Let’s go see

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 of Blackgard, converting it into a workshop that elevated Blackgard into a bastion of wealth. Enchanted items left this place

the Gray Owl, there had been a huge vacuum. Artur had filled that vacuum alongside government subsidies. He was a 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

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 of

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.

clear we have quotas to meet. At this rate, you cannot meet them. If we can’t have things prepared before the research team is fully assembled, our Hall of Enchantment will be an embarrassment in front of all spellcasters of any esteem. The queen herself, Her Highness Anneliese,