Jackal Among Snakes

After Galamon’s direction to move, it did not take further encouragement for Argrave to turn and rush down the hallway. The lack of light made him mind his steps, and he ensured Anneliese was moving ahead before coming to a jog himself. Argrave’s arm felt hot, both from the surging pain and the warm blood dripping down it. Behind, the slow rattling of the waking Lily Lurkers escalated into a terrifying sound that consumed the entire ruin—it sounded like metal fragments banging around in a box. The adrenaline narrowed Argrave’s focus down only to his escape.

Argrave remembered to grab the big bottle of black liquid mana, and fortunately did so without issue. Anneliese slowed with a spell matrix whirling about in her hand. A larger light spell shot out ahead, better illuminating the path. Argrave greatly appreciated it, but he did not have time to give thanks. Far ahead, Galamon kicked aside one of the returning Lily Lurkers into an open room.

As the three of them finally made it to the stairs, Argrave was already out of breath and struggling to keep his grip on the large bottle of pure magic. He spared a brief glance back to a great horde of the creatures surging along the hallway feverishly. Their movements were much more sluggish than Argrave had seen on the surface, but they were still chasing—though perhaps that was not the right word. Rather than a pursuit, their actions seemed to be frenzied.

Without pausing to rest, Argrave turned his head back to the path ahead and took the stairs two at a time. He made it to the end of the first set, and though greatly exhausted, he turned sharply and took the next. Once at the top of those, his breaths were shallow and rapid, and his thighs screamed at him. His foot brushed against the corpse of a white insect, and he stumbled.

Argrave kept his footing but the bottle threatened to fall from his grip, and he raised his other hand to correct it. The blood made it slip from his grasp, and Argrave desperately fell with it to shield it from breaking. He collapsed, huffing, and his makeshift mask slid off. The bottle remained intact, though, and he tried to scramble up.

“Idiot,” Galamon cursed at him, stepping back and seizing the bottle from him. After sheathing his dagger, he grabbed Argrave’s shoulder and hoisted him to his feet. The two set off once more with Argrave being all but carried by the elven vampire. His grip was no weaker than a vice.

Anneliese cast yet another spell and a ball of light shot out across the hall, moving slowly and illuminating this floor just as it had the previous. They moved beneath it, its glow following them light a spotlight.

“Just had to be the hero,” Galamon said. He slowed his steps, eventually halting. “There are many ahead, at least fifty bunched up. We’ll take a different path.”

“No,” Argrave stopped him, catching his breath. “I’ll deal with them.” Argrave tried to free himself but found Galamon’s grip unbreakable.

“You?” Galamon asked disbelievingly.

“Just as I did the druids. Watch the rear for a moment.” Argrave finally managed to break free and stepped forward, following the light as it advanced. The din of the Lily Lurkers behind them made those ahead barely audible, but Argrave barely began to hear it before he saw many moving forth, frenzied just as those behind them.

“What are you—wait…!” Anneliese called out, but she was too far from Argrave to stop him from proceeding.

Argrave triggered the Blessing of Supersession, and at once, the small lake of magic within him was replaced by a boundless sea. That feeling of overwhelming power from within completely hid his fatigue from his own psyche.

In seconds, the hallway ahead became a show of light. Argrave first used [Wargfire] many times in quick succession. The fiery maws set upon his foe like a pack of wolves, their imitative mouths clamping shut and dicing the creatures in half and setting those near aflame. For a brief moment, Argrave felt he was astride a thousand hellhounds, tearing his foes asunder. The noise of the flame overtook that of the rattling for a brief moment.

Next, Argrave spawned a flurry of D-rank wind spells, cutting and dicing and casting the flames every which direction. The black smoke from their burning bodies dissipated in the winds, cast about harmlessly everywhere. When Argrave finally paused, watching, the hallway before them had become a mess of burnt and twitching parts, blackened stone, and fading flames.

Argrave turned back. The frenzied bugs behind them had not yet come near his two companions. “Come,” he said, gesturing.

Anneliese’s face was written in shock and awe, but Argrave’s words brought her from her stupor. Galamon rushed up, ushering the both of them forward, and Argrave did not protest as he turned and followed behind. Though he’d regained his breath somewhat, the hasty retreat once again labored his breathing.

When they made it to the final set of stairs before the cavern’s exit, Galamon simply turned to Argrave and gestured.

“What?” Argrave questioned weakly after a shallow breath.

“This’ll be easiest.” Galamon stepped forward and wrapped his arm around his torso, hoisting him over his shoulder before Argrave could even react.

Argrave opened his mouth to protest, but Galamon began moving up the stairs and Argrave’s open mouth slammed shut. His teeth clacked together loudly and some pain ignited on the tip of his tongue. Tasting blood the whole way, Argrave was ungracefully carried over Galamon’s shoulder up the stairs. The elf’s steel armor poked and prodded at his ribs.

At the top, Argrave was deposited with as little warning as the initial pickup. He stumbled ungracefully. With little time for admonishment, Argrave could only cast an indignant glance at Galamon before heading down the hallway. Anneliese held her arm up and out, a spell matrix forming, probably in preparation for another spell to light the path.

Spotting something on the walls that was white and mobile, Argrave called out, “Anneliese!”

His words came out as the Lily Lurker’s stinger was already in motion. It moved lightning fast, though Argrave clearly saw it stick her arm. She staggered away, holding her arm and letting out a hiss of pain. Galamon kicked the wall, stomping the creature flat with his plate boots. After, he walked beside her, checking the injury.

Argrave bit his lip, somewhat panicked. To keep his calm, he considered his options. The Blessing of Supersession had yet to wear off, and Argrave knew their retreat might be slowed on account of the Lily Lurker’s paralytic poison. Recognizing these variables, Argrave stepped to the top of the stairs, looking down.

“You two—get going for the surface. Don’t argue,” Argrave said loudly, not looking to be sure his orders were followed.

The Lily Lurkers moved up the stairs in bulk, though their numbers had been greatly thinned by their disorderly and frenzied pursuit. Argrave did not hesitate for a second before sending out yet more [Wargfires]. The lupine jaws of flame battered at the stairs, the walls, and the ceilings, turning the brown stone a harsh black. The creatures popped and writhed as they burned, the sound of their rattling tails slowly fading in way of the all-consuming roar of fire.

The air Argrave was breathing was soon replaced by smoke, and Argrave stopped to cough. Delivering only a few more spells for good measure, he turned and ran. Anneliese and Galamon were nowhere to be seen, but Argrave saw a distant light. He pursued it, and as he did so, the Blessing of Supersession wore off.

Argrave kept moving, and the sounds of fire and rattling slowly became distant. He dared a glance behind and saw no pursuers. As he took a deep breath and breathed a sigh of relief, he felt the ground shake. After, a distant noise reached Argrave’s ears. It was rattling, but a different kind—stone against stone.

Deciding that he really had no time to rest, Argrave resumed his retreat. He finally spotted the room that they had initially entered and came to it. There, Galamon waited, Anneliese slumped over on his shoulder. After seeing Argrave, he moved for the hole in the wall, exiting back into the cavern.

Argrave soon caught up to the two of them. “Anneliese…” Argrave began despairingly, not knowing what to ask.

“Quiet, unless you wish for this to happen again,” Galamon silenced. “Take your bottle, follow behind in silence. I need to hear.”

Argrave nodded, and they proceeded up the cavern much slower than they had entered. Anneliese was sweating badly and breathing heavily. Her movements were stiff, and only grew stiffer as they proceeded. Argrave helped where he could, but Galamon did the bulk of things.

Just as their entry had been, they were mostly unbothered by the Lily Lurkers in their exit of the cavern. Argrave could not help but feel a strong sense of guilt and uselessness watching Galamon forge ahead, both dealing with the errant Lily Lurkers and supporting Anneliese. He tried to occupy his mind with what to do once they got out.

Though it felt like an eternity, they did eventually reach the surface. Argrave squinted his eyes at the dusk sunlight when they first re-emerged into the familiar field of lilies. He looked around briefly, then turned to Galamon.

“We have to go back to the village. We definitely have what I need to make an antidote. It should work quickly,” Argrave said decisively.

“Right.” He started moving, but Anneliese was nearly being dragged along. He pointed to her other side. “Support her.”

Argrave rushed to get underneath her shoulder just as Galamon was, adjusting his satchel and the bottle he held. Eventually, they both hoisted her up, heading back towards the village.

#####

Argrave sat on a chair beside Anneliese’s bed, biting his lip in silence. Though she was still sweating a great deal, Argrave had healed the wound caused by the stinger and administered an antidote for paralytic poisons. There was a great uncertainty to the whole thing, and it ate at Argrave’s gut. He knew that this antidote worked in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ But this was reality, and he was uncertain if things could be so simple as they were in the game.

“You should sleep,” Galamon advised, placing his hand on Argrave’s shoulder. “She is recovering. We can only wait.”

Argrave looked around. They were in a quaint wooden house which was poorly illuminated by moonlight. One of the villagers had graciously donated the use of their residence after learning of Anneliese’s injury. Argrave, though, found it impossible to sleep.

Argrave looked up at Galamon. The elven vampire had taken off his helmet. He looked as unshaken as usual.

“Every single time I try to do something beyond my means, someone around me gets hurt. Never me,” Argrave remarked idly.

“What of your arm?”

Argrave lifted up his hand. The cracks that had been leaking blood were already healed by magic. “My own doing,” he eventually dismissed.

Galamon picked up a chair in the house and set it down quietly. “Best get used to it.”

“Hurting myself?” Argrave questioned.

“No,” Galamon snorted, sitting down. “Watching others get hurt because of your choices.” He pulled up his flask and took a long drink. “You want to rally people, lead them against He Who Would Judge the Gods? Then many more are going to get hurt on your watch.”

Galamon pointed at Argrave with his pinky, the rest of his fingers wrapped around the big flask. “Accept it. Come to terms with the guilt. Feeling something because of it doesn’t make you weak. It’s a reminder you’re still mortal.” Galamon leaned in. “The people that don’t feel guilt because of the consequences of their choices… from what I understand, your father is one such man. They call them tyrants.”

Hearing King Felipe called his father was strangely agitating, and Argrave turned away from Galamon’s white-eyed gaze. “Father, huh.” He mulled over the word for a bit, then turned back to Galamon. He did not wish to think of the matter further, so he diverted the topic back to Galamon. “Do you ever see me as a son?”

Galamon frowned. “Generally, or…?”

“Well, you’ve got a kid at home, but you haven’t seen him in a long while.” Argrave pointed to Galamon. “Now you’re sitting here, giving me life advice. I’m a bit older, granted, but I’m pretty tall and pale and…” he trailed off, noticing Galamon’s look.

The elven vampire stared coldly for a long while. Argrave awkwardly scratched the back of his head, unsure of what further to say. After what seemed like an eternity, Galamon opened his mouth and said only, “You should sleep.”