Jackal Among Snakes

Epilogue 4.3: Family Memorial

Argrave and Anneliese sat by the hearth as the fire crackled, the both of them staring up at the family portrait that’d been made so many decades ago. It was a little microcosm of what they’d experienced this week—a vibrant family. All save Vincent and Hannelore had Anneliese’s colorful amber eyes, while most had inherited Argrave’s black hair. They were all quite tall. Elimar was bigger than Orion, even, who also stood in the photo right alongside Elenore. Their daughters hadn’t liked that much, while all their sons had.

“Maybe we should get another portrait painted,” mused Argrave idly. “One for the road.”

“The family is much larger,” Anneliese responded. “It would take far longer. We had enough trouble posing last time.”

Argrave sighed. “They’ll make a camera someday.”

“Would we remember this so fondly had it not taken so long?” Anneliese asked.

Argrave shrugged. “Maybe not.”

Silence spread between them. Argrave had come to appreciate silence a great deal more. Time was, he spent every second talking, jabbering, joking. He still could, of course, but he found there was as much power in refraining from talking as there was in speaking eloquently. More than power, he simply felt at ease near his wife. There was no need to impress, to pretend. Their lives were almost one in the same.

“I think it’s time to go,” Anneliese broke the silence. “They might be waiting for us already.”

“Ah.” Argrave rose to his feet. “It’s... it’s prudent to remember, before we go. Remind us of the price of arrogance, complacency.”

“Hmm.” Anneliese stroked her brow, then stood to her feet and grabbed Argrave’s hand. “Who’s teaching the new children this time?”

“Theodore,” Argrave responded as they walked through the mansion. Revelry was absent this late at night. Anneliese looked troubled, and Argrave noticed that immediately. “Worried about him?”

“Always. He inherited my empathy.” Anneliese squeezed his hand a little tighter. “But he’s learned to temper it in recent years. He’ll do a great job with the young ones, but I worry he’ll carry their reactions with him.”

Argrave went silent for a moment, thinking. “Durran’s right. We can only baby our soon-to-be centenarian children for so long.”

Anneliese chuckled. “Perhaps you’re ready for that, but I’m elven. At three hundred, these instincts of mine may fade. Until then… I can’t stop being their mother.”

“It’s Vincent you should worry about,” Argrave said. “He always act weirdly at these.”

With all covered, they left the estate, walking around to the back. They walked across small bridges spanning pleasantly babbling brooks, and passed beneath the verdant orchards that bloomed year-round. Faint magic lamps embedded into the pathway illuminated their path. Distant, almost reverent chatter came into view, and finally they came to a beautiful grove centered around a large monument with some writing on it. A single torch of black flame burned just in front of the monument—a gift from Vasilisa of Quadreign. It illuminated a simple phrase.

IN MEMORY OF THOSE LOST

Most of his life, Argrave never had any interest in ruminating on the past. Increasingly, he found himself doing so more and more. Not for his sake, but for the sake of the names written down on this wall—the people that had given their life for the future that all present here today enjoyed. It would be all too easy to lose themselves in the bliss they’d carved out for themselves. It was this hard moment of remembrance that both of them felt would help keep their family from straying from the good path.

“So… grandma’s grandma was one of the big golden snakes Orion visits?” their dark-haired granddaughter asked Theodore as they neared, her blue eyes wide.

“Grandpa’s distant ancestor,” Theodore corrected gingerly. “It was from her that we derive our last name. Vasquer.”

come we aren’t snakes?” she asked innocently. “How does a snake give

know,” Vincent

Argrave knew he was a softer soul than he put on. Even as a child, he didn’t eat meat. When his younger brother Diedrich had punched his tooth out, he asked

a lot of time with Vasquer,” Theodore explained with a kindly smile.

their granddaughter, looking

talking with you kids. It’s the happiest she ever is. She just has a little trouble expressing it, because her job

and empress were standing behind her. She gently stroked the top of the girl’s head. “And she especially loves talking about Vasquer. Shall

Argrave. “I’m worried that I

content. Head to Royal Road for the

do great, Theodore.” Argrave patted his son’s shoulder. “I

smiling. “Couldn’t

don’t lie to family. Anne taught me that.” He

that needed to be remembered. He hoped

for him, but didn’t have much luck. He walked through the grove, head swiveling about as he searched. In time, he spotted Sophia looking

“Hey,” he greeted her.

looked over. “Hey,

on your mind?” Argrave

long while, before she finally said quietly, “Do you ever wonder if I could’ve done

ever wonder if there’d be fewer names on this wall

ever think—”

infected wounds. Have to clean your cuts, or you’ll lose

silent for a long while, then looked back at the monument. “I don’t think I can

“Me neither. That’s

a smile, but her eyes were sad. “But… for there to be a concept of good fortune, there has to be misfortune

every buyer, there’s a seller.” He looked

had countless others. Argrave nodded. “No, I didn’t see him. But he typically goes over there.” She gestured, where the grove artfully warped

then walked off where she’d pointed without another word. He found Vincent sitting on a stone bench, looking at

said at once. “I just… like to think

and son

year,” Argrave finally broke the silence. “Educate the new

joking.” Vincent leaned in, clasping his hands together. “I’m not suited

“You don’t

eye widening. “No, I get

“Just what?” Argrave pressed.

deserve the honor.” Vincent scratched his cheek. “I’d jack it

The support you’ve shown this family. I don’t know why you get like this every time you come here, but you are loved, Vincent. I gave you my name—my real name, before