Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave crossed his arms. Frankly, he was leaning toward accepting this offer. But he wasn’t ignorant of the leverage and the opportunity he had, in more ways than material alone.

“If we do this… I need to know exactly what your relationship with Erlebnis is.” He shook his head. “Not just that—all of who you are. I don’t even know your name. I need to know I can trust you absolutely, beyond the dictates of deals of convenience. I need to know you.”

“Even now we speak too long for comfort,” the Alchemist said, his voice harsh and judgmental. “Do you expect me to stand here speaking of my history spanning centuries?”

“You won’t need to say a word, and it won’t take any longer than a few seconds,” Argrave shook his head. “If this is personal, like Anneliese said, then there will be records of you somewhere here in these Annals,” he waved his hand around. “Use the Lodestar’s ability. Take me to these records. Let me learn.”

The Alchemist’s hand grew in size and clamped down harder upon the spear. He took a few steps forward. “You don’t understand what you ask for. You can’t conceive of it.”

“Awfully high opinion of yourself.” Argrave narrowed his eyes as the looming figure towered above him.

“Just… agree,” the Alchemist insisted. “I act in our best interests. We are bound by your union of the other gods.”

“That’s my condition,” Argrave shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”

The Alchemist lashed out, kicking the railing that Argrave leaned up against. He stepped away in panic, before he realized that no harm was meant—the man was merely venting his frustrations.

“We really don’t have all day,” Melanie reminded them urgently. “Especially not if you’re drawing attention like that.”

“Decide,” Argrave gestured toward him. “I won’t relent.”

“You must swear that you will see this heist through, no matter what you learn,” the Alchemist finally looked over.

Argrave blinked. “We’re trapped together, so why would I—”

“Swear it,” the Alchemist repeated.

He swallowed uncertainly. “Sure. I swear.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“No. Swear it as Durran has,” the Alchemist gestured. “Let me mark you.”

Argrave greatly hesitated upon hearing that, but the more he thought on it, the more he was certain his brain and soul would be juiced regardless if he didn’t complete the heist. So, he nodded.

“Fine. No matter what I learn about your past, I will continue working with you for the duration of this heist. That doesn’t mean I’ll rob Erlebnis’ vault—if I don’t like what I learn, I retain the right to refuse. You may mark me with that in mind.”

The Alchemist grew a hand from his chest. His armor of bone parted for his fingers as they grabbed at his skin. They gripped his flesh tightly, then tore a strip of skin off like parchment. He wrote something on it, then held it out before Argrave. The writing repeated what he had just said—no matter what Argrave learns, he would work with the Alchemist even still, elsewise the Alchemist may liquify his brain and shatter his soul.

“Do you accept?” the Alchemist asked.

Argrave nodded. “Yes.”

The parchment burnt away in a gray fire, the embers swirling through the air around Argrave’s face. He felt them touch the back of his neck, and chills ran all down his body. He felt as though his flesh was being massaged, strangely enough, and when next he reached back he could feel the same spiral he had seen on Durran’s neck.

Everyone looked at him—Durran with a measure of smug satisfaction, Anneliese with concern, Orion with unease, and Melanie with what looked to be respect, tempered by a heavy degree of uneasiness.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” the Alchemist said, his voice quiet and subdued far more than it usually was. “Once I use the Lodestar’s ability, we will draw all opponents. And remember well that vow, lest you kill yourself, Argrave.”

#####

Mozzahr stood atop the dead body of the bronze golem, staring at its empty husk missing its head. All around, wisps of teal energy drifted—remnants from his quick dispatch of all of the emissaries that came to attack. These things were never something that posed a genuine threat to him. All of his rampaging had been for the sole purpose of drawing Argrave out, and doing damage to Erlebnis’ realm as much as possible.

But now… things were different. In this grand sea of life and existence, Mozzahr knew hardship was often opportunity in disguise. If one peered closely at a challenge, it might reveal itself as something with a hard shell with valuable innards. And looking upon this bronze golem, he saw the pearl within the oyster.

The king named Argrave had talked taller than he stood—no mean feat. Yet tall tales can often be true, and tall men can possess mettle to match. His talk of Gerechtigkeit, of robbing Erlebnis, of allying with the Ebon Cult… there was bite to back that bark. As much was proved by the gaping wound in Mozzahr’s chest, stitched together by his Emptiness and healed by his magic.

He looked through me, Mozzahr reflected. When was the last time that anyone did that? He saw me not as a nemesis nor an ally, but as a tool.

Upon thinking of it, he came to realize that the same was true from his end. But if Argrave had seen him as glass, Mozzahr had seen him as air. He had attempted to walk through the king with total disregard for his existence. And as consequence, he had stumbled after bumping into a solid obstacle.

The king was not Erlebnis’ pawn. Argrave and his mutant subordinate were just as much an unwanted presence here as he was. Mozzahr was brought away and dropped into this land as a loud distraction. In so doing, the king spared his army the wrath of the Ebon Cult at the height of its power and wrought a plague upon Erlebnis. He was nothing more than a barrel of oil ignited in this palace of knowledge.

Despite realizing this, indignance was a luxury that Mozzahr could not spend his time on. Mozzahr had tried to walk through his foe, and so reeled away upon discovery he was more solid than he appeared. But one who stumbles needs not fall so long as they kept their wits about them and strive for balance. Though it was difficult by nature, purchase could be found amidst crisis. And by nature, it was only in crisis that true exceptionality made itself known.

King Argrave of Vasquer, his opponent in this battle, had come to this realm for a reason. Knowing that objective would enable Mozzahr to take an advantageous position. Whether high or low, physical or metaphysical, Mozzahr could only find it, seize it, and wring the advantage out of it. And when Argrave came to him, seeking his goal… Mozzahr would not look past him again.

Mozzahr compelled his Emptiness into the body of the fallen bronze golem, working his power through its body to probe its construction. In time, its lifeless limbs began to move, and as it stood Mozzahr leisurely walked up to its shoulders. Soon, the golem stood tall once more, its once-red eyes and joints now glowing with teal. It walked forth down the empty streets, and Mozzahr stood steady as it did.

The knowledge that Argrave sought… Mozzahr would learn it, absorb it, and destroy it. If he could pull it off, it would truly be a pearl pried from the hard shell of an oyster, for this knowledge wound benefit the Ebon Cult and its future immeasurably. But regardless of the value of the knowledge, Mozzahr would make certain the king would have only one route forward—through him.

And for the king’s sake, his temperament had best change as much as Mozzahr’s had.

#####

After being marked by the Alchemist, Argrave and his companions were taken away to a distant part of the Annals, ferried away by spirits. Once there, the Alchemist explained some key details to them.

“Once I engage with the Lodestar’s ability, all within the realm will be aware of our existence—even Erlebnis himself,” the Alchemist explained grimly. “I will quickly take Argrave to the information that he seeks about me. From there, he will make his decision about our route.”

“All following?” Argrave pressed.

Everyone slowly agreed in turn, though he could tell that this whole prospect was making them quite uneasy.

“How long do you think we’ll have?” Durran asked. “I mean… Erlebnis is a god, right? And this is his realm.”

“He’s already aware we’re here without a doubt,” the Alchemist summarized. “But once I call upon the Lodestar’s power, he’ll pinpoint me exactly. From there, our time depends largely on Mozzahr’s actions. It may be minutes. It may be hours. I cannot say.”

Argrave nodded. “Any more questions?”

After none came, the Alchemist sprouted hands from his body. They all gripped the top of their heads, and though it had been acceptable in times prior it was now quite alarming. “I shall begin. Be ready, Argrave, to delve into Erlebnis’ records. Time is of the essence, and I’ll not indulge you stumbling and babbling like an imbecile while opportunity slips away. Absorb the knowledge, and be ready to make your choice.”

The red metallic liquid surged out of the Alchemist’s being, rising up, up, and up, until it touched the writhing atmosphere above them. He saw the tendrils that connected dance, writhe, and surge, almost as though something was being transferred from the sky down to the Alchemist. His being surged with light, and his body bubbled as changes took him.

“There,” he said, his voice like cracking ice. “I’ve got it.”

The Alchemist raised his hand, casting [Worldstrider] once more.

The distance that they travelled was considerably more immense, and Argrave felt the oddity of spirit travel for a very long time. When his feet hit solid ground once again, there was already a book before his eyes.

“Take it,” the Alchemist said. “And learn why you should not learn.”

Argrave took the book, spurred by pressure, and flipped open the ugly brown binding. What waited within was a pool of Erlebnis’ power. It surged out of the book, gripping his mind.

And Argrave began to learn what, precisely, the Alchemist was. Or rather… who.