JACKAL AMONG SNAKES

Artur had been examining the small diamond-sized portal into the Shadowlands in total silence for near an hour. He might’ve expected that behavior from Raven, or a cat, but not him. Argrave had attempted several calls to pull him out of the trance, and even considered removing him physically. Every time, Artur insisted that he remained silent. Raven assured Argrave that there was nothing ailing his mind, but he wasn’t so sure.

Then, after that hour-long period, he floated up above the altar and leaned up to one of the daggers looming above the altar. He tapped the side of it. “Cut this off. Remove it immediately.”

“What?” Argrave looked at Raven. “Are you sure that’s—”

“Do it!” He shouted ferociously. “I’m returning to Blackgard. I need it to be back there as soon as possible. You’ll also need to bring me that jade staff that I’ve sometimes seen you carrying around. Bring me a few samples of the obsidian here, each about the size of my fist. Gold, silver… I can get those at my shops. I may need gemstones in short notice.”

Argrave looked at Raven intensely, trying his best to question with his eyes if he was certain nothing had permeated Artur’s mind. But the Alchemist remained steady, and he made no attempts to stop Artur from what he was doing. Before they could do anything more, Artur started to do as he said—return to Blackgard.

“Well…” Argrave examined the altar. “Give me a hand, Raven.”

#####

It had been incredibly strenuous work to remove the dagger made of Shadowlander bone from the altar that it hung over. Despite Raven working alongside him, Argrave had needed to call upon blood magic to create something sufficiently powerful enough to remove it from the pillar. With it at hand, they returned to the Hall of Enchantment. The mood was strange.

Every bit of production in the Hall of Enchantment had come to a stop—for the capitalist overlord that was Artur, this was unusual indeed. Instead, they were all hovering around the room where Artur resided, heeding his every whim as he made his people fetch him various materials. He allowed no one to work on the project besides himself. Though Argrave had some intense reservations about surrendering a weapon that had saved his life on multiple occasions, he did eventually bring both dagger and the Resonant Pillar to Artur.

“You know what this does, don’t you?” he asked the craftsman as he handed it over. “It can absorb attacks and—”

“And deliver them back. I know. Go. Get out of my space.” He waved Argrave away, floating around the forge with several different utensils on hand. “No project has ever called to me like this. I won’t have your unwanted lingering ruin my masterpiece.” He turned to one of the people and pointed. “YOU! Fetch the electrum!”

Though the people nearby gave Argrave pleading eyes to stay and make sure they weren’t abused by their boss, ultimately he felt a strange sense of hope that whatever Artur was doing would turn out to be worth their time.

“I’ll send for you with further requests,” he dictated. “There will be plenty. This… nothing will surpass this. I can see it in my head, so clearly…”

#####

Argrave returned to the parliamentary hall, and presently stood in front of Elenore’s desk.

“I will do what I can to meet his whims,” his sister promised. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“I want to be sure you’re alright,” he told her. “That we’re alright.”

“Wants are not needs.” She smiled icily. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

Argrave chewed on his lip, greatly disliking the distance she was placing between them. “You know… we’ve managed to convince Garm to bring back those who’ll be useful to the cause.”

She held her writing implement at both ends. “I’m aware. Llewellen has already returned. Durran claimed that the act lessened the burden that he’s feeling. That means that Garm’s influence over him is subsiding.”

“Are you interested in speaking to Vasquer once last time?”

Elenore went quiet, staring ahead without saying much for a long stretch. Then, she shook her head. “In a new body, she wouldn’t be useful to the cause.”

Even Argrave couldn’t help but double-take at her cold words. “But wouldn’t it be worth it? For you, for Orion…”

“Every imprint that Garm brings back whittles away a little more of the limited time he has,” Elenore reminded him. “We have to pick and choose very carefully. As such, we cannot waste it on someone who is neither a combatant nor a useful person like Llewellen.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Argrave closed his eyes. “Garm could still experience her last thoughts and convey them. Not just him, either—for Orion, he could speak to our other siblings, or Felipe III, even. And for you, there’s…” he paused, realizing he might be overstepping in his attempt to connect.

Elenore would not be pleased to be reminded of Therese, the maid that had served her loyally and died as a consequence. He was trying to buy back Elenore’s affection because he couldn’t stand being disliked. It was why he ended up in this mess in the first place.

“For me?” Elenore prompted, perhaps knowing what he was about to say.

Ji Meng’s urgings came back to him—be patient, be cautious. Wait for a moment to show your sincerity. For now, he would leave her with only this.

“There’s nothing else except this last thing.” He dipped his head to her. “I’d like to apologize for the way I handled the matter with the fruits. You were right in every word you said, all the way down to my motive. Thank you for continuing to put up with me.”

Elenore turned her gaze away, staring at the corner of the room. “…you should go join Anneliese,” she said quietly. “I believe she has much to say about Llewellen.”

Clearly, forgiveness didn’t come so easily. But he felt, just maybe… her words were a little softer.

#####

“Guess who’s speaking with Llewellen?” Anneliese whispered to Argrave excitedly.

“Rowe? I don’t know,” he shrugged, though he was curious about her excitement.

“Onychinusa,” she said with joy. “I told her about him hoping it might help her come out. I had some plans to get them talking. But she approached him, first!”

“Ooh.” Argrave raised his brows in surprise.

Ever since Onychinusa had been taken from Erlebnis’ realm, she’d been incredibly reclusive. Her aversion to people was even greater than that of the Alchemist’s. She lived somewhere in the mountains—only Vasquer had known precisely where—and the only time that she spoke to people was when Anneliese occasionally came to visit, or when they had a task that they needed her to perform.

“I’m very proud of her,” Anneliese said of the woman centuries her senior. “I think that Llewellen will be able to handle her without causing harm. He reminds me of Castro, in many ways… yet he’s quite sharp, and he’s oft inclined to share his opinion. Many times, I would get halfway through a story before he finished it for me, having predicted the outcome. He was seldom wrong, too. I have so much I’d like to talk to him about… but for now, I’m letting him come to terms with what’s happened.”

“And… can his form cast magic, as Raven specified?”

“I’m unsure,” Anneliese confessed. “We hadn’t the time to do any testing, and—”

Someone knocked on the door. “Your Majesty, Your Highness. A visitor from the Hall of Enchantment.”

Argrave came to attention. “Send him in.”

The door opened, and a distraught-looking attendant entered. “Master Artur said that he needed your presence immediately.”

Argrave stood. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

“Em…” The man lowered his head. “Both of your royal presences were requested in… well, in Artur’s way. And he insisted that Her Highness bring along the staff she often bears for combat.”

Argrave looked at her. First the Resonant Pillar, now Veid’s heart? He swallowed, considering how much had already been invested into this project. But Anneliese retrieved her staff, which was leaning up against the wall just by her, and stood.

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” she said passively.

#####

When they entered, Artur floated past them aback his cape and slammed the door shut. He turned to look at them with his eyes gleaming.

“Give me the staff, then take off your clothes, both of you,” Artur insisted, holding his hand out and gesturing at Anneliese to surrender Rowe’s former staff.

Argrave instinctively shielded Anneliese with his arm. “You’re going to need a little bit more than goodwill to make a request like that while keeping all your limbs.”

“Don’t make threats like that. Were it that giant, I might actually be scared. You, however, have more finesse than to recklessly remove my limbs.” He shook his head. “I’m not making a single artifact. I’m making a pair, using the Resonant Pillar and Anneliese’s staff as a base. You two are going to serve as the chain that binds them. Though… conduit, or pipe, might be better suited.”

Argrave looked at Anneliese—and indeed, she gave no indication Artur was lying. He looked back at the short man.

“How would you know how to do something like that?”

Artur tapped his eyes, and as if at will, they sparkled myriad colors. “You’ve seen my eyes flash as so, right?”

Argrave nodded. “It’s your A-rank ascension, yes.”

“They saw something in the Shadowlands that I’ve never before experienced,” he told them. “It was as though… it was as though they finally showed a new purpose—a new reaction, to that foreign realm beyond this world. I don’t make a habit of staring into abysses for hours if I don’t see the value in it. And I saw value unimaginable.” He waved between them. “You two must be linked. I’m somewhat confident it would interest no one else. And I’m even more confident no one else could make as good a use of the pair.”

“Assuming you’re capable of this…” Anneliese looked at him curiously. “How might this help with the Shadowlands? How are they related?”

“Dark, light. Life, death. This realm, that realm.” Artur clapped his hands together. “They’re dualisms. I intend to take ample advantage of that dualism using you two. Argrave shall be the dark—death. Anneliese shall be the light—life. Man and woman. Husband and wife. Together, creating the full function of my masterpiece.”