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.”

asked innocently. “How does a snake give birth

know,” Vincent commented, staring at the

he asked for his sibling not to be punished. Every ounce of money he made managing Elenore’s business interests went straight

lot of time with Vasquer,” Theodore

their granddaughter, looking over. “But,

let you in on a secret.” Theodore leaned in. “Elenore really loves talking with you kids. It’s the happiest she

gently stroked the top of the girl’s head. “And she especially loves talking about Vasquer. Shall we go together?” The girl sheepishly nodded, and Anneliese scooped her up and walked toward where Elenore

that alright?” Theodore asked Argrave. “I’m worried that I

be reading stolen content. Head to

patted his son’s shoulder. “I

lowered his head, smiling. “Couldn’t

family. Anne taught me that.” He gestured. “Go to your eager, if

of people gone, of stories that needed to be remembered. He hoped that he’d always be around to tell these stories—and that

slipped away. His son had always been unusually talented at doing that. Argrave looked for him, but didn’t have much luck. He walked through the grove, head swiveling about

“Hey,” he greeted her.

over. “Hey,

your mind?” Argrave

for a long while, before she finally said quietly, “Do you ever wonder if I could’ve done more with the

on this wall if

ever think—” she paused.

don’t know. They’re like infected wounds.

at the

Argrave nodded. “Me neither. That’s why

a smile, but her eyes were sad. “But… for there to be a concept

a seller.” He looked at her.

despite the fact she had countless others. Argrave nodded. “No, I didn’t see him. But he typically

walked off where she’d pointed without another word. He found Vincent sitting on a stone bench, looking at beautiful glowing flowers with his one good eye. He noticed Argrave

fine,” he said at once. “I just… like

his throat. Father and son sat there in the quietude, while the distant whispers of the rest of

kids, next year,” Argrave finally broke the silence. “Educate the

“I’m not suited for it. I’d muck it all up. Everyone

“You

disagreed at once, eye widening. “No, I get

“Just what?” Argrave pressed.

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

scene,” Argrave continued, and Vincent jerked his head over. “The support you’ve shown us. 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 I came here—to