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chapter-121
With Garm’s existence made known, the Lord of Copper had gained leverage over Argrave. That was an incontrovertible fact. With a word or two, Argrave could become an outlaw in most of the lands in the Burnt Desert. Fortunately, the significant delays in their travels had enabled Argrave to recover fully from his magic debt to Erlebnis—he could use the Blessing of Supersession again.
“What do think we should do?” questioned Anneliese. The three of them watched the Vessels speak to Brium. “This is… an unenviable position.”
“He has his hands wrapped around something vital,” Argrave nodded, then he looked to Anneliese. “But look at things this way—we skipped a step.”
“What?” asked Galamon.
“His trust,” Argrave lowered his head, staring at the road before Cyprus. “He thinks that he has power over us… and so he’s more willing to implement us in his plans.”“’He thinks?’” repeated Anneliese. “He does have power over us. Perhaps we should make sure that Garm is safe.”
“I don’t think that Garm is in danger,” Argrave shook his head. “But if you judge differently, we can go back and make sure right now.”
Anneliese sighed and crossed her arms. “If only we still had our druidic bonds, we might confirm that without needing to move…”
“We’ll get new ones soon enough,” Argrave assured. “Perhaps quicker than I thought. Ones better than that dragon our… he’s our friend, I suppose… better than what Rowe has.”
“…what?” she looked at him incredulously.
“In terms of utility, certainly. But for now… I say we go along with what Brium asks of us.” Argrave turned to her.
She looked very torn. But after a while, she gave a slow nod. “Alright.”“I understand why he brought us here, now,” Anneliese whispered into Argrave’s ear, drowning out Crislia’s voice.
Ear tingling, he turned his head slightly at her voice while waiting for her to continue.
“To mark us as his—to bind us closer, eliminating our political mobility in the city. It would be all but impossible to cooperate with Argent or Aurum now. Argent views us as a public insult. Aurum would not risk offending Argent.”
Enlightened, Argrave directed his focus back to the conversation ahead. The Lord of Gold had finished summarizing the purpose of this meeting, remaining the calm mediator.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Brium?” Quarrus insisted, leaning in.
“The meeting…” Brium began. “It was a coincidence that it matched with the time of the raid.”
His words were met with a complete, almost incredulous silence throughout the Stone. Quarrus leaned back in his chair, face taut as he stared at Brium.
“Is it so surprising these things should happen?” Brium raised his hand into the air. “Every time the southern tribals raid, they receive very little retaliation. At the best of times, we send a party to demand back what was stolen.”
“Retaliation is not the way of Fellhorn. He rains only water, never blood,” Crislia shook her head. “All those living may still become a part of His eternal rain.”
Brium leaned in. “Things cannot remain as they are. We must retaliate—we must flood those mountains they hide upon, wiping them all clean. If we do this… We dirty our hands but once, and Fellhorn’s influence spreads to those damnable mountains once and for all.”
“You verge on blasphemy,” Quarrus noted, his anger turning to alarm.
“This city was the first to be claimed by us Vessels of Fellhorn,” Brium tapped the table. “And now… we do not expand. Fellhorn’s rain remains constant, nothing more. We lose as much as we gain by the day. All of this… because we allow a cyst to persist!”
He’s genuinely trying to persuade them, Argrave thought. A last-ditch effort to wake them up to follow his deluded fantasies of grandeur.
Yet the two other lords were unmoved by the Lord of Copper’s pleas, both staring at him coldly. Brium stood, becoming animate in his passion.
“We must march into the mountains, induct them into the faith. We have the capability. We have Fellhorn at our backs. If He deems us unworthy, He will make his will known!” Brium pleaded. “But until we take that plunge, we remain as we are—constant, stagnant.”
“Core tenets of Fellhorn’s will, both,” Crislia noted coldly. “We came here with the impression this was merely the actions of a misguided young Vessel… but the issue seems to be much deeper than that.”
“Issue? There is nothing wrong with me,” Brium said defeatedly as he lowered himself back into the chair. “But you two refuse to listen.”
“And you did this as some attempt to wake us up?” Quarrus questioned. “A ridiculous notion. I am done here.” Quarrus rose to his feet and made to leave.
“As am I,” Crislia agreed. “Things must change, Brium, you are right. But not for the faith. For you.” she shook her head, then moved away.
Brium was left as the last sitting at the circular table of the Stone. Things had gone nearly exactly as he outlined, but Argrave thought he didn’t look the least bit happy.
“It’s time to get to work, before they decide to handle things,” he said, rising to his feet.
Argrave took a deep breath. The days to come would be turbulent, without a doubt.
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