Jackal Among Snakes

Elenore walked in a room in the parliamentary hall with Orion, Galamon, Melanie, and Durran walking along with her. She saw Hause, sitting on a couch cordially alongside Anneliese. After taking a moment to gather herself, she walked to sit across from the woman.

“Hello,” Elenore greeted. “My brother’s taken me to be his personal messenger. And he tells me you might have very important information.”

“Certainly,” Hause greeted. “I have been taking the time to acquaint myself with Anneliese. She has been speaking of your plans for the future. And hearing of your aims, well…” she ran her hand through her hair. “Perhaps it was not a mistake, what I did. Perhaps the hope I saw did not end with tragedy, and this stories continue onward.”

“Many people died because of what you did,” Durran said simply, walking to the wall as everyone else sat. “Because you meddled with people, an entire continent lost its lives. And it was your own power. You don’t have an excuse.”

Elenore looked at him sharply as she slowly sat. “Durran. This is not the time.”

“It may be meager defense, but what I see is potential,” Hause said in response. “Meaning… even if my hand had not unleashed it, the end result may have been the same. I sought to contain Raven, guide him. Not… not that.” She looked down at the ground. “Raven… does he still refuse to visit?”

“So far as I know,” Elenore said.

“Well… he has a nobler aim, now. All of you do,” she lifted her head. “I can tell you what you might become, all of you. Perhaps it will give you direction. Perhaps it will tell you nothing at all. But nevertheless, I can tell you.”

“Please,” Elenore gestured. “Argrave insists.”

“Then perhaps we should start with him,” Hause inclined her head. “Please know… that I speak honestly, and fairly, and do not hold my words against me.” She looked about, and everyone gave affirming nods—even Durran, who gave his begrudgingly. “Then… Argrave… he exudes death. It is pivotal to his being.”

The party grew silent. Melanie spoke up first, questioning, “Well, uhh… have you seen that before? Got a frame of reference? A famous slaughterer, perhaps?”

“I know what it means,” Hause nodded. “It speaks, largely, of what he is capable of. If he believed it necessary, he could deal death without hesitation. He could make choices that most other people would balk at. This does not make him evil, nor good. Death is a natural part of life. People with incredibly strong will often exude death.”

“Did Raven?” Elenore asked quietly.

“Yes, but not to the extent Argrave did,” Hause shook her head. “It is not a negative thing. I think it is a testament to his sheer tenacity. It is your duty to guide and make sure that tenacity does not express itself in detrimental ways, by my belief. As for his other potential, what I believe you look for more closely… his innate potential is judgment.”

“So he’s judgmental? That fits,” Durran laughed.

“Is that something good, or bad?” Elenore asked. “If you were to unlock that potential, what might it become?”

Hause rubbed her fingers together anxiously. “My ability… is always unpredictable. When I saw Raven, I saw a hunger that grew ever larger the more it ate. It seemed to expand infinitely. When I changed him, he became as he is. His bizarre alchemical body, his self-actualization.” She looked to the side. “And judgment… it is such a broad concept that it scares me to tamper with, somewhat. Things are not normally like that.”

“Then what are they like?” Anneliese asked.

“There’s you,” she looked at Elenore. “You have a flourishing blossom of creativity—a beautiful yet venomous black flower. It could be dangerous… but given how mature this flower is, perhaps it is too late for me to warn you of that. As for other matters, your body is rich soil for a garden. You have latent natural powers of growth. You rather remind me of Sonia. She is an architect of growth. She made the grandest pavilions in all the world, where beautiful flowers bloomed all season long. Her designs were the subject of envy around the world, and all sought her craftsmanship.

“And you,” she looked at Durran. “You have twofold potentials. There is death repeated twice, yet branching off into separate paths. One is of rebirth—of sundering petrified roses, so that the foul flesh beneath can be reborn twice as awful. The other… it speaks of wrapping yourself in the power of others, using either foe or ally alike to invigorate yourself.”

As everyone digested that, Melanie set her black executioner’s blade up against the wall and leaned up against the couch Elenore sat on. “So that’s the more straightforward ones?”

“Yes,” Hause conceded. “The people that I change become a little more than human. My followers are an example of this—I can demonstrate that fact later, if you so please. Though I will admit—finding so many talents clustered together like this is a rarity.”

“You have Argrave to thank for that,” Galamon added gruffly. “He judged us long ago.”

“Indeed?” Hause tilted her head. “Yet you… you have realized much of what you are. The faithful hound spurs your step. Your potential… it was marked by blood, claimed by it and changed irreversibly. Yet now that pestilence has been cut apart, and I see only the scars it left. Even still, this experience serves to strengthen the hound that you are.” She turned her head to Orion. “And you, golden-armored knight, denied your potential. Broke it. It is a stained-glass window with ninety-six colors, and on the other side rests authority. This window lies abandoned, discarded, shattered… but it can still be rebuilt. Either by my hand, or your own.”

“You do see things, I admit,” Orion looked away. “But there is a lesson in your words. Not all potential need be realized.”This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

“And us last two?” Melanie stood up, her curiosity stoked.

“You are both similar, yet very different simultaneously,” Hause crossed her legs, examining Anneliese and Melanie in turn. “You both feel empty. And this emptiness is a great drive forward, giving you a relentless push toward finding something that might fill this hole. I think you two have made strides toward taming and harnessing this aspect of yourselves, but the fact remains that you still lack a certain part.”

Melanie smiled bitterly. “Thought I hid it well.”

“Funny you phrase it as that,” Hause said, looking at Melanie intently. “You can become a chameleon—an actor without peer. But I do not speak merely of speaking, talking, articulating, or moving… you possess the potential to fool even gods.”

Melanie blinked a few times, taking that in. “Not very fond of the stage. Prefer to be watching the people behind the curtain.”

“I see what I see,” Hause shrugged. “And you, Anneliese. I see in you… an eternity.”

“What is eternity?” Anneliese asked without missing a beat.

“Do you mean you don’t…?” Hause laughed. “No, I think I understand. It is a broad concept, eternity, and you wish to know how it applies here. Well… I have seen eternity on many people. Inventors whose inventions are used even today. Spellcasters who changed the realm of magic forevermore. Or people who left an indelible mark on history. Simply put… you possess something within you that cannot ever be destroyed.”

“That only makes me more curious,” Anneliese crossed her legs and pondered that. “So, then, you have seen all of us. And what of enacting your other power? To unlock potential.”

“I… would you hold it against me if I claimed to have trepidation?” Hause looked around. “You have seen Raven—as you know him, the Alchemist. He cannot be called fully mortal, anymore. I am on the wake of the greatest disaster my abilities have ever caused. I need to reflect on this. And even so, it will be some time before all my powers can manifest from their scattered places. So… I ask for more time to think, before I can answer. Is that alright?”

“I suppose that is fine,” Elenore nodded. “I imagine you’ve given all of us much to think about, in turn. And Anneliese—Argrave needs you for that journey with Mial.”

“Oh.” Anneliese rose, drawn from her distractions. “You’re right. I forget.”

#####

“It’s gone,” Mial said simply.

“What?” asked Argrave, looking around the room. They were deeper in the heart of the dwarven cities underground, and the now-abandoned city was quite terrifying. Still, Mial had led them back to the old dwarven senate house, and eventually to a room within it. This room of marble was completely empty.

“Every book here about Gerechtigkeit—it’s gone,” she explained. “I… I know how this looks. But I swear to you, Mozzahr did keep his research here, all of his notes here. I helped him write most of it. He would not move it so randomly, and…” she stuttered in panic. “I don’t know who took it, but it’s gone. You have to believe me.”

Argrave cast Anneliese a look, but she gave no indication she thought Mial was lying. Argrave clutched his forehead.

“Good lord… well…” he babbled, at a loss. “You helped him, right? You can recreate some of it?”

Mial was silent for a few moments, then looked back, chains jingling. “Given this failing, perhaps it’s only natural I help. But I’m only mortal. My father might’ve remembered it all perfectly, but me…?”

“If he remembered perfectly, he wouldn’t have written it down,” Argrave reminded her. “Who knew about this stuff?”

“All the upper echelons,” Mial shrugged. “Myself, the elder vampire Rochefort, Georgina—”

“Georgina?” Argrave repeated.

Anneliese cut in, reminding him, “She’s our captive. Who else?”

Mial’s brain worked, listing off names until she suddenly paused, frowning tightly. “Traugott.”

Argrave’s blood ran cold. “Did you say who I think you said?” He walked to stand before her, and leaned down until he looked her deep in those lavender eyes. “Traugott? S-rank spellcaster? Dark skin, dark hair, absolute psycho who’d spawn a Shadowlander in the heart of a city? That Traugott? The one who writes sociopathic notes, apologizing, like it’ll all be better because of that?”

Mial shrunk away from him as he ran his mouth, then muttered, “I don’t know all of that, but… yes, I believe that’s him.”

Argrave laughed in disbelief, then leaned up against the wall. “You’re telling me Traugott was a part of all of this?”

“I take it you have history,” Mial walked deeper within the room, and Argrave kept a cautious eye on her. His people were all around, but she could still be dangerous.

“You might call it that,” Argrave said vaguely. “This is the last thing I need to hear before I leave…”

“It is not as though the trip could be any worse than it promises to be already,” Anneliese reminded him.

Argrave laughed. “Yeah… yeah. It’s just… absolutely maddening, to not know his game. What is he driving at?” He looked at Mial. “Do you know?”

“I know he convinced Mozzahr to talk to you,” Mial said. “After what happened, thought… he might be one of yours. Or one of Erlebnis’.”

“It fits him, collaborating with that freak, but…” Argrave sighed deeply. “Hell. I’d hoped to bring the Alchemist a nice, fat stack of new knowledge, but it looks like it’ll take time.”

“I’ll get to work recreating what Mozzahr knew,” Mial promised.

“Awfully helpful,” Argrave pointed out. “Okay, whatever,” he dismissed, doing his best to rein in this crushing disappointment. “I… have to get things in order. Forty-eight hours isn’t as much time as it sounds like. And I have a plus-sized coffin to fill.”