Jackal Among Snakes

Before Argrave left, he thought it prudent to check in with the elven gods. As he walked, slightly weakened from his use of blood magic without either echoes or reserves, the looks that he received were far different than what he remembered. The elven armies had seen him hold the rear. His whips had chewed through enemies without pausing, and even when the earthenware ants came together as giants, he beat them back all the same. They could not look at him the same way as they once had—respect, awe, gratitude, even fear… all of them acknowledged him, now.

But acknowledgement wasn’t Argrave’s alone. Orion and Anneliese had been by his side, every bit as potent and endurant as he had been. Even if the battle was not over, theirs seemed a champion’s procession. Though the Magisters and the Veidimen walked behind them, their party members seemed just as awed as the elven Tumens. That sort of treatment was certainly something that many people found desirable… and admittedly, Argrave did find himself standing a little straighter.

But when they came to stand before gods, whatever burgeoning pride the royal trio might’ve been building was quickly squashed.

Ghan had been standing by his son Merata, but he turned around and knelt before Argrave. Even kneeling he was the size of a building, and Argrave looked up.

“What you saw… was Kirel’s divine will,” Ghan explained, as much to Argrave as for the elven armies behind him. “Those hands acted mindlessly in defense of this breach. Merata’s fortification can endure, but not forever. By that time…” he focused down on Argrave. “You had best have a more permanent solution.”

“That is the plan,” Argrave said flatly.

Ghan nodded at Argrave, then rose to join the rest of his family. Argrave prepared to move away, but he was stopped by another giant coming his way.

Chiteng came to Argrave, and he planted his ivory blade in the ground. He reached his hand out slowly, and Argrave felt strongly that his time had come. But when Chiteng’s finger brushed against him… he saw spirits rush out from his hand, surrounding Argrave. He felt his fatigue and damage from the blood magic evaporate—and more than that, all of his fading blood echoes rejuvenated. It didn’t replace those that was lost, but this alone was an immeasurably valuable gift. And considering Chiteng used spirits, he quite literally sacrificed pieces of himself to give it.

Argrave looked up at him, puzzled. “That’s… thank you,” he managed.

“Do not deviate from the plan,” Chiteng said insistently. “No matter how the path veers… you are the key to the Woodschildren safety. Remember them above all, and you will be duly repaid.”

Argrave gave him three decisive nods. Seeming content with this, Chiteng rose to his feet, grabbed his blade, and went to join his kin. Argrave turned back to his people and said, “Time to hurry the hell up, I think.”

#####

Argrave, without ceremony or significant announcement, departed to do his duty. It remained a daunting task after how he’d handled their army, but he dealt with Sarikiz, not the centaurs. He needed only the centaurs’ unwitting assistance to rouse her from her slumber. And once she was roused… he was relatively certain he knew what to say to get her to act as needed.

On the return journey, however, Argrave saw the scope of the battle they’d been through not as a participant, but as a survivor of it.

The Bloodwoods had been thoroughly devastated. The marching ants had eaten their way through roots and trunks both of the gargantuan trees, leaving unsteady or toppled redwoods everywhere they went. Corpses from both the mortal realm and those of Kirel’s realm had been scattered in abundance. Roving parties of invaders still persisted. They fled from Argrave’s party, perhaps trying to regroup to mount another offensive. It seemed like their communication had been cut off.

Along the way, however, an elven scouting party came upon them. They relayed some news—namely, that Nikoletta’s father had been recovered, with Duke Rovostar now slain. The surprise was somewhat mellowed by the urgency of the task he was attending to, but at Orion’s insistence and his own curiosity, Argrave agreed to regroup with Nikoletta before heading to the centaurs.

Anneliese quickly scouted ahead, finding his cousin’s party quickly and ensuring that no other dangerous obstacles awaited them. She confirmed what they had been reported—namely, that a blue-haired, pink-eyed man who answered to ‘Enrico’ was in their party. Given the small overlap in people sharing those features, it was safe to say that was their man. Argrave thought that fortune favored them, because their party seemed to be heading towards theirs by sheer coincidence.

Argrave followed behind Orion, walking into a clearing illuminated by dusk light where Nikoletta’s escort of elves and her father waited. When she laid eyes upon him she grinned brightly and happily, rather like someone who’d just won the lottery. Argrave smiled in turn, both at his cousin and Duke Enrico. It almost didn’t seem right that things should end up like this.

Nikoletta strutted up to him, saying all the while, “I can safely say I should never again doubt you.”

“A little is fine. I’ve made a few mistakes here and there.” He walked up to Duke Enrico. “Good lord… you’ve seen better days.”

“Hah,” Duke Enrico laughed, sitting on a rock. “Had better ones, too. But at the very least, I had them.” He focused on Argrave. “You’re probably thinking the same thing I am. I shouldn’t be alive. And you’re right… but I am alive. And I have to thank you for that.”

Argrave didn’t vocally agree, but he was resoundingly supporting that sentiment in his head. He looked back at Nikoletta and said, “What did I say? Luck does come. You just have to seize it.” He looked around at the elven escorts, to see who he had to thank.

Argrave was about to give credit to the elves who escorted her. As he looked at their number, he spotted the A-rank spellcaster Anneliese had mentioned. And as his gaze lingered on the elf… pieces fit where they shouldn’t have, and recognition came where it ought not to. Particularly, on those blue-green eyes of his, dancing like water.

Nikoletta gave Argrave a hug even as his eyes stayed locked on the elf ahead. She said some words of gratitude, but he couldn’t even hear her.

“Was that man with you the whole way?” he interrupted her, his voice tense.

Nikoletta pulled away, confused. When she saw Argrave’s face, hers grew serious in turn and she followed his gaze. “That… yes, he was here. He helped me a great deal. What’s…?”

Dimocles stood there, hands held behind his back as he smiled at Argrave easily. Though he wore elven armor, had elven ears and elven blonde hair, the face was unmistakably that of Dimocles… the face, and also his rippling green-blue eyes. His features seemed to be contorting, returning back to what he normally looked like. The elves noticed this and backed away from him, drawing their weapons.

“I came peacefully, Your Majesty,” Dimocles began, staying still and unimposing. “And I helped your cousin. Do you think Duke Enrico would truly have been so easily found without my Lord’s help? You say it was luck that he lived… but luck is for losers. The Lord pulled some strings, you see.”

“Polymorphism,” Argrave moved Nikoletta aside somewhat forcefully, and then walked forward. “I couldn’t get it from Anneliese’s description alone, but looking at your eyes now… that’s your A-rank ascension, isn’t it? Shapeshifting? No, don’t answer,” he shook his head. “So… it was you? Listening to us, spying on us? And now you disguise as an elf, follow my cousin?”

Dimocles smiled a little wider. “Of course not. Mortal polymorphism cannot ever be so good as to imitate another flawlessly. I would need flawless memory of the person’s features, and flawless replication of that memory. Both together are an impossibility. And the eyes… you see they remain unchanged, so how could I fool you?” Dimocles raised his hands up to point at his eyes, and Argrave prepared to fight him. The man froze, seeing Argrave’s caution. “Be at ease, Your Majesty. Like I told you… I come peacefully.”

Orion stepped up beside Argrave. “What is this?” he asked quietly.

“All that matters is that he works for Erlebnis,” Argrave answered. He shifted on his feet, and then looked back. Nearly everyone was here—Artur, Vasilisa, Anneliese, Orion, all of the Veidimen honor guard. This was as well defended as he’d likely get. And indeed, Dimocles stood there passively, doing nothing.

Argrave looked to Anneliese for an answer, a gauge of this man’s emotion. She looked as uncertain and anxious as he did, and then it came to him—last time, she’d said this man’s acting was inscrutable. That likely stemmed from his polymorphism. If he didn’t want to, he didn’t need to show emotion. With an option stolen from them, Argrave looked back at a loss.

Argrave held his hand out. “You want to talk, let’s do it.”

Dimocles raised a brow. “How much do you wish to be public, Your Majesty? I know the Lord would not like his second offer to you publicized… and nor would you, I think.”