Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave stood in Elenore’s office, deep inside the parliamentary hall. Orion stood at the doorway, while Anneliese attended to another matter regarding Mial and the other prisoners.

“First among our tasks… distribution of what we’ve stolen from Erlebnis,” Argrave said, reading a paper that Elenore had handed him. “I think I can do this with my listener present. I might even get some satisfaction knowing that we’re dividing the loot from his vault while he listens.”

“I did want to hear your thoughts on that before I made any choices,” Elenore nodded.

“…there’s a lot of stuff,” Argrave confessed. “I was going to ask Hause for help appraising all of it.”

“Don’t you know?” Elenore raised her brows.

“I’m not a machine. I don’t remember all of it,” Argrave defended. “Anyway… the majority of the weapons, we should give to Durran’s god-slaying retinue. He’s dealt with a lot of the baddies, but more of them could still pop up before the tough bastards like Erlebnis and Kirel Qircassia start manifesting. Just make things easy for him.”

“I suggest we set aside some to distribute to the nobility,” Elenore advised. “It will enhance their ability to defend distant territories, while also ensuring their loyalty. These artifacts… what are they truly capable of?”

“One of them could probably put you on par with Galamon, physically,” Argrave said with a shrug. “Others have specific effects. I think… I think one of them might help Valeria. Temporarily. I can finally keep that promise to you, maybe.” He looked at Orion.

The golden-armored knight blinked in shock. “You mean… I might speak to my mother when she is rational?”

“Yep,” Argrave nodded. “Won’t last forever, but it’s a start. From there, I’ll be looking out for other solutions. Non-divine solutions. Unless your stance on divinity changes.”

Orion slammed his fist against his chest hard enough to bend his armor. “Thank you, Your Majesty!”Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“Orion’s mother,” Elenore crossed her arms and looked a little pleased. “If one of them might do that… they’ll all be incredibly useful, then.”

“Yeah. We pilfered some other stuff. A dragon egg. I usually sell those, unless I’m playing as—” Argrave cut himself off, hesitant to mention anything related to Heroes of Berendar, even if it was innocuous and vague. “Point is—this’ll take time. Let’s do it while I’m far away, so I can assess things one by one.”

“Okay,” Elenore agreed. “I’d like you to tweak some things about your Domain of Order presiding over the town. It should help make the city safer and more efficient. Crime is basically non-existent. It’s been wonderful, but it could be more.”

Argrave read the paper, where her desired changes listed out for quite some time. “I see that,” he mumbled after a second. “Alright. And then?”

“I’m going to construct a… a mailbox for you, shall we say,” Elenore held her hand out. “It’ll be connected via my blessing from Lira, allowing me to transfer documents to you for you to stamp with your magical signature. Other things, too, but that’s my use for it. We’ll retrieve it after you change the Domain of Order.”

“Alright. And then?” Argrave pressed.

“Just a last-minute census, a few other minor things to deal with, some public appearances, speaking to a few members of parliament… trivial things, but they need to be done. Oh, and I’d like to communicate with the gods in our alliance.”

“Alright. And the last entry… surprise,” Argrave narrowed his eyes, then opened them wide. “Oh. I was in business mode. What’s the surprise?” He paused and shook his head. “Wait—it’s a surprise, duh. You can’t tell me.”

“Precisely,” Elenore took the paper. “Now… let’s get you to work.”

#####

The night was late, and Argrave sat at a table filled with many of his favorite people in a small, secluded building in Blackgard. This was his surprise—a private banquet. It wasn’t overly grandiose, but nor was it excessively humble. In other words, precisely the way Argrave liked things. This surprise was a welcome one after the day of tedium he’d endured. The most exciting part had been contacting the gods they’d allied with. Their heist had caused quite a stir in the astral planes. Rook and Almazora still needed mortal champions, but they were ostensibly steadfast allies by this point.

After this night, the Alchemist awaited. Argrave would be sure to enjoy this dinner.

Everyone who’d gone with him on the heist was here, alongside Elenore. Castro had joined at Argrave’s invitation. Some of his people were absent by circumstance or choice—Nikoletta and Onychinusa, for instance—but altogether, it felt like a family meal with a family he truly loved. Still, it was difficult to forget the lingering specter of Erlebnis.

Argrave ran his finger over the empty silver plate before him. “This’ll be a little like my last supper before prison.” He left out the next part, saying it in his head alone: hopefully there’s no Judas among us.

Durran raised his goblet full of wine, while his left arm rested on the backrest of Elenore’s chair proudly and possessively. Elenore didn’t seem to mind. “We’d best make it a good one. I don’t envy what’s coming to you.”

Argrave smiled at the two of them together, then said after a moment’s pause, “We should make it good for Elenore, too, then. She’s going to have me buzzing in her ear at all times of the day.”

“I hope my brother will have the decency to respect my nights, at the very least,” Elenore looked at him pointedly, though her smiling gray eyes told she was happy to be here.

“I second that. For different reasons than her, I imagine,” Durran added, and laughed when Elenore turned her head at him coldly.

“I would come if you would allow me, Your Majesty,” Orion put his hand against his chest. In a rare showing, he did not wear his golden armor—Argrave’s request. With a neat braid on his black hair and a tight combing of his beard, he was quite striking. “But since you will not allow it, I will ensure this place remains just as it was when you left.”

“I believe His Majesty intends for it to be grander than it was,” Castro said tactfully.

“How is Ingo?” Argrave asked Castro.

“He’s… he’s well, Your Majesty,” Castro said with palpable relief. “It is hard to describe how it feels to simply teach him magic with nothing else as distraction.”

The doors opened, and servants dressed in neat white-black outfits entered.

Anneliese sat up a little straighter, seeming unusually attentive. “Speaking of distractions…”

Food was arrayed before them all. Elenore explained, “A lot of this comes from the first harvest in Blackgard. From the orchards, from the fields, or from the livestock… all of this was grown here in the bounds of this valley.” The servants piled the platters up in the center of the table, refilled glasses with jugs of water or wine as requested, then left the room professionally.

“Cows must grow up faster than I remember,” Melanie said as she reached and retrieved a steak. “Or we’re killing them younger.”

Argrave chuckled slightly as Elenore said, “Alright… not all of the food. But the point stands for most of it. On top of that, I’ve imported spices from the Burnt Desert. They’re doing well as a luxury item for now, but as it becomes more available I can distribute it to more classes of people.”

“You like fowl the most, yes?” Anneliese asked Argrave, but she seemed to already be certain of the answer as she retrieved some. “And I remember you enjoying the seasoning of the Burnt Desert…”

She had a faint twinkle in her amber eyes as she dished up his plate, and Argrave figured out that she’d probably asked Elenore to bring the spices to this dinner. She had probably been behind the vast majority of this—the quiet atmosphere, the people he liked, the lack of lingering servants attending to his whims… Anneliese knew him very well.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he told her.

Anneliese paused, looking at him affectionately. The others at the table broke off into their own conversations as they ate, leaving them to their own world.

“I would hope so,” Anneliese said in half a whisper.

“You know so, Anne,” he rebutted at once.

Anneliese smiled broadly, face flushing somewhat. “Yes,” she agreed shyly. “Hause told me that I am empty, you know.”

Argrave leaned in closer. “Where is she? I’ll go smack some sense into her.”

Her exasperated glance made him grin, and she ignored him and continued, “In the past, her calling me that would have resonated. Now… now, not so much. I feel secure. With you. With all the things you built. But even with that security comes insecurity, like it could all slip away. Even if the ground is solid, a landslide could cause it all to crumble.”

“Hell if I don’t feel that,” Argrave nodded slowly. “One thing wrong, though. We built this,” he placed his hand over hers. “And I feel like we’re on the precipice of something real. Something wholly removed from what I knew. Maybe… maybe my purpose.”

“Your purpose has always been what you make it, in my belief,” Anneliese responded. “That… that place… it was terrifying, Argrave. Mozzahr, Erlebnis, the White Planes… I think I am finally strong enough to admit that I grow weary of it all,” she looked back at the table. “I want more of this. A quiet place. You, holding my hand. A family.”

“The circumstance demands we fight for it,” Argrave responded. “Only a while longer, Anneliese.”

“Yes,” she agreed, finally picking up her utensils. “But fear not. My nerve is as cold and hard as ever. I will live up to your expectation as your regent in your absence.”

Argrave smiled. “I don’t think you’re capable of disappointing me. If there’s one thing you suck at, it’s that.”

She looked at him. “You tempt me. The night is young, and I had more planned for us after this… but hearing that, I may reconsider and leave you disappointed.”

“My bad. You’re great at disappointing me,” Argrave went rigid and turned back to his meal.

“Eat your food,” she ordered him, words interspersed with suppressed amusement.

#####

“Have you taken care of everything?” asked the Alchemist. He didn’t look back at Argrave as he dealt with his abode of obsidian. His Pawns swarmed about him, assisting him in this task. “You won’t be able to return.”

Argrave looked at Vasquer, and sent his last goodbyes. He said to the Alchemist, “Didn’t realize you cared.”

“…I’ve let you get too familiar.” An eye opened on his back, and its iris split open to make way for teeth. “Perhaps I don’t need to staunch the pain for this procedure as I intended to.”

“You’re the boss,” Argrave complied at once, stiffening. Anneliese shook her head off to the side, where several others stayed to say goodbye. Some of them were even sober. He continued and informed the Alchemist, “I’ve taken care of everything. We can leave whenever you can leave.”

“Bye, Argrave,” came a familiar voice, and Argrave turned his head in surprise. Onychinusa sat atop Vasquer’s head. “I’ll keep watch.”

Argrave smiled. “Thanks. I know I can trust you.”

“Hey…” she began, kicking her feet. “Erlebnis… how bad did you ruin him?”

Argrave laughed heartily. “I’m wealthier than he is, now. Let’s just say that.”

She didn’t quite smile, but her legs did kick a little faster. “Just so you all know… someone tried to break in while we were warring,” she said, growing serious. “They tried to teleport into Blackgard. I think they were after your sister. They ended up in the ocean, instead.”

Argrave grew a little pale. “That’s… terrifying. I…”

“I said they ended in the ocean,” she repeated, annoyed.

Argrave went silent for a few moments, then conceded her point with a nod. “You’re right. But if you hadn’t set up those measures…”

“But she did,” Elenore reminded Argrave. “And I’m fine. Don’t let this rattle you—we have built something that can endure without you watching like a hawk.”

“Only because you’re watching,” he reminded her.

“It’s ready,” said the Alchemist, standing straight and turning. “Get in.”

Orion stepped forward, handing Argrave a box—the ‘mailbox’ that Elenore had crafted, to deliver documents or other items via her blessing bestowed by Lira. Argrave took it in hand, and looked at what the Alchemist had made. It was a simple room, possessing basic amenities and little else. But it was eerily black. And it would be Argrave’s life for a little over a month.

Argrave looked at everyone. “See you soon. Don’t die while I’m gone.” He flashed a bitter smile. “Love you all.”

“Even me?” Melanie asked flirtatiously.

“After all the things you’ve done? Definitely,” Argrave nodded seriously, feeling now was no time for jokes. “You’re family, Melanie. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Melanie looked away, embarrassed. “You’re not supposed to say something like that.”

“Cry later, all of you,” the Alchemist reprimanded. “Enter, Argrave.”

Argrave obeyed, walking to the spot. He looked at Raven before he entered. “Will you say goodbye to the ones you loved?”

“…no,” said the Alchemist. But in a rare show, he did hesitate.

Argrave stepped into the black room… and it shut behind him, leaving him in total silence. He looked around the place, taking it all in. A bed, a chair, a desk, a toilet—though not a modern one, naturally. Meals would be provided. The Alchemist could create other things as he needed them. But even still… this was to be a month that tried his patience.

The Alchemist entered, walking through the walls. “We’ve arrived,” he declared. “No time to delay. Let’s get you opened up.”