/n/jackal-among-snakes-1520/c-440
chapter-441

“What we need most, more than almost anything, are bodies for this war,” Elenore told Argrave. “We must take advantage of Mozzahr’s arrogance to involve the dwarven nation persisting below even the Ebon Cult.”

Argrave listened to her proposal intently, and then leaned back into his chair. “Elenore… those people, the dwarves… they’ve been removed from the struggles of nations for decades. The most they face is the odd monster breaking through their mines, or… even lesser threats.”

“That’s not important, Argrave. Think about this for a moment.” Elenore gently slid her goblet of wine aside and leaned forward. “Should they sit in the underbellies of the earth, removed from all conflict, and reap all the benefits of our protection while they do nothing? This is a fight for the world; they have to get involved, even if they’re pacifistic rock-eaters. We must involve them. If Gerechtigkeit is the arbiter, then they must step to the stand and bear witness right alongside us. Their testimony must be given in steel and spell, just as ours. And the tool to making that happen is Mozzahr.”

He stared at her for a time, the silence interrupted by Durran’s light snoring. “It’s not the same. Provoking a war is markedly different from persuading people to take up arms.”

“Mozzahr would be starting the war,” Elenore said. “The dwarves, the Ebon Cult… if you asked me to choose between them and us, I’d much prefer them to fight while leaving Vasquer yet more time to grow and strengthen itself.

“It sets a rather terrible precedent.” Argrave leaned on the table. Perhaps this was one of the vicious cycles that Castro warned Argrave of avoiding. On the other hand, dismissing the possibility outright… perhaps that was arrogance. “I’ll consider it. But my foremost concern with Mozzahr is not what we do once we meet him—rather, the idea of meeting him itself is the subject of biggest concern. I like living. Meeting him might cut that short.”

Elenore nodded at his not-quite-rejection. “Of course. I’ll have Melanie working on that front. Pretty soon, we’ll have established a firm foothold in the abandoned dwarven cities.”

“Alright. Then… I say, enjoy the rest of your night. We can deal with the things we talked about in the morning, but I have to stay up in case the Alchemist arrives. It wouldn’t do for him to have an improper reception.”

As Argrave rose, Elenore called out, “Hang on.”

“Yes?” He looked down at her.

“I’m… not being totally honest,” Elenore admitted. “It isn’t like I lied, but perhaps I ought to be more forthcoming.”

Argrave glanced at Anneliese, then back to Elenore. “Alright. Go ahead. Trust me with anything.”

“You’re bringing the Alchemist here to look into the possibility of circumventing the cycle of judgment,” Elenore said, her eyes wandering to Durran. “If Mozzahr seeks that same thing… if Mozzahr might help us… perhaps there might be cooperation.”

Argrave blinked. “It’s a little hard to bring an egomaniac to the bargaining table. He seeks to circumvent the cycle of judgment by becoming the cycle the judgment. It was never explicitly stated, but I theorize he believes he’s the ideal candidate to judge whether or not the world should continue to exist. He wants to be the one who decides everything.”

“Egomaniacs are some of the best people imaginable at deluding themselves. If we allow his ego to believe it is in control, he can do so many things that are far from ideal. Even Felipe could compromise, provided his ego was not wounded,” Elenore stared at Argrave. “Durran did something stupid, wagering his life on something this far-fetched. But gods be damned, I’ll do most everything I can to get him out of it. And if this is something that might…!” She placed her slender hands onto the table and clenched them. “I have to. I have to look into this.”

Argrave leaned down and wrapped his arms around her. She was reticent at first, but seemed to gladly surrender after a few seconds. He could practically feel some of her tension melt away. Hers was a silently born burden, but she was as human as everyone else. Her constant vigilance coupled with Durran’s predicament had battered her greatly.

“I hear you, sis. I do. But Mozzahr is what Felipe thought he was—a cold, efficient ruler, who makes rather unemotional decisions and has the charisma to see them carried out by his legions of adoring followers. We dug our father’s body up today because Felipe failed in what he attempted,” he reminded her quietly, speaking lightly into her hair. “Mozzahr hasn’t failed.”

Elenore sighed. “Yes, I… understand. Felipe… by the gods… I suppose when you see someone looming over you for so long, they become larger than they truly were in your memory.” She tapped his back, signaling that she was ready to be released, and Argrave complied.

“Are you good?” Argrave asked with a smile.

“I will be,” Elenore nodded. “Sorry for babbling. This is why I abstain from this…” she muttered, twirling the empty wine goblet on the table.

“Maybe you can get a heart like mine, fix that problem forever,” Argrave tapped his chest, and then bid her goodbye.