/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-294
chapter-293

Magister Traugott, wearing the gray robes given to him by the Order of the Gray Owl, sat atop a parapet on the walls of Dirracha, legs dangling over the side. He peered down at the first level of the multi-segmented city, eyes wandering its streets. It was dark out and the red moon above was barely visible at this time of month. Unless one shined a light upon him, he was all but invisible to all below.

“You,” a voice cut in, and Magister Traugott turned his head in surprise.

Orion of Vasquer stood there, looking worn and tired. His long black hair had lost its signature braid and devolved into a messy tangle atop his head, and his beard grew longer by the day. His gray eyes were firm, though, and they watched Traugott with every willingness to kill.

“Who are you?” Orion asked, voice cutting above the wind of the high altitude.

Traugott lifted his legs and slowly turned his body around. “Me? I am only a scholar with an interest that has revitalized me,” he answered.

“You are more. We both know this,” Orion responded, stepping forth. “If you cannot answer… you must leave.”

“For now, a scholar is all I am,” Traugott stubbornly refused. “I came here…” he jumped off the parapet he sat upon. “…because I heard the great serpent beneath this city has knowledge. She has answers to some of my questions.”

Orion did not look pleased, but neither did he rush to attack Traugott. “Who told you this?”

“Princess Elenore,” Traugott said, flashing a smile with white teeth.

“Elenore?” Orion repeated cautiously. “…my sister? What did she say to you?”

“That the reason the king knew what he did… of Gerechtigkeit, of the coming calamity… was because of Vasquer,” Traugott outlined earnestly, stepping towards Orion. “I could not find the king. He was absent. So… I came here, to another thing that has drawn my interest.”

Orion’s tension finally dispelled somewhat, and he told Traugott coldly, “Vasquer speaks only to her descendants. Even were that not the case… I am uneased having one who offers such dubious answers so close. Who are you?”

“Magister Traugott of the Order of the Gray Owl,” the man answered, almost begrudgingly.

“A Magister…” Orion acknowledged, his wariness returning. “I killed one of yours outside these city walls. I don’t trust your ilk, your political motivations…”

“Good prince…” Traugott shook his head. “You have forgotten one detail of this conversation. I know about Gerechtigkeit,” he said, spreading his arms out. “As do you. Why would I ever seek to do harm? That would be an unreasonable conclusion. The calamity is coming, and most wouldn’t dare risk strife in such… dire times.” Traugott smiled.

Orion gave a steady nod after a time. “Even still… what are you here for, then?”

Traugott stepped up to the parapets of the wall, then placed one foot atop it. Leaning an elbow on his knee, he said, “You claim I cannot communicate with Vasquer… which is sad if true,” Traugott admitted. “…but who says I cannot? We have not tried, my prince. And even then…” Traugott turned to Orion, his dark eyes lingering on him. “I have other reasons to stay in this city.”

“I see no reason to let you stay,” Orion decided. “I cannot risk any danger. You are a foreign element. I cannot allow myself to be swayed. I know the righteous path.”

Traugott pursed his lips. “Even if I can offer reprieve from the voices of the gods?”

Orion stepped forward, the power in his gait seeming to rock the great wall they stood upon. “Do you know the consequences of that statement?”

“I do, prince Orion. You are another interest of mine,” Traugott admitted, backing away a step. “Until you have tried it, you cannot deny the enticement, can you? I believe you suffer. From how I hear your royal knights speak, I believe that it is a reasonable conclusion. You have turned against the gods, haven’t you? But what is a god?”

Orion paused, staring down Traugott. Then, he clenched his fist. “Begone.”

“You are the prince,” Traugott conceded, holding his hands up. “But if your mind should sway… I’ll return soon.”

Traugott’s shadow whirled, and he fell into it, heading into the terrifying Shadowlands. Here, no sight, no sound, no sense existed—yet Traugott fumbled, seeking an exit like a man pounding against ice from below. Something told him of things lurking beyond, and the supposedly powerful Magister felt as though a great leviathan of this ocean of shadows sought to eat him alive.

And then… he reappeared on the mortal world, near the bottom of the wall of Dirracha. He spared a glance upwards.

“Your gods serve more than just you,” Traugott said, then stepped away from the wall.