jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-444

Anneliese looked up at the Alchemist as he toiled with Felipe’s bones in seemingly incomprehensible manners. When she’d first met this giant standing beside Argrave as he endured the worst pain of his life, she had been utterly afraid of him. He seemed unreadable, unfathomable, unknowable, and most of all unreasonable. Maybe there was still some truth to that. But the events of day passed showed that he wasn’t necessarily as monstrous as he presented himself to be.

Indeed, perhaps there was something mortal beneath that shell of his.

Argrave was absent, if only briefly. It was her and the Alchemist alone. But with his guarantee of safety, she dared ask, “Why do you pay attention to Onychinusa so much?”

The Alchemist did not pull his hands away from Felipe’s body, but a mouth opened on his elbow. “You presume wrongly that I speak overmuch because I have become open to dialogue. Begone.”

Anneliese’s search for emotions among the Alchemist was a fruitless one as ever. But her intuition did not fail her on this matter—she knew that the Alchemist was particularly interested in Onychinusa. “She’s been through much and more. Please do not make things worse on her by confusing her yet further. I do not wish to involve her in our struggle against Erlebnis. She has suffered enough at his hand.”

“I am not interested in puppets cut from strings,” the Alchemist scolded. “You overstep. Return to your bedmate.”

Anneliese was not entirely contented, but there was little good in jeopardizing what was promising to be a fruitful cooperation with the Alchemist. She turned and walked away, still mulling over this matter.

“Hold,” the Alchemist called out, and Anneliese turned around in surprise. He stepped away from Felipe’s corpse, coming to stand over her. “Your A-rank ascension. Describe it to me.”

Anneliese narrowed her eyes, shifting on her feet uncertainly. “It’s… called [Life Cycle],” she said hesitantly. “With it, I can absorb magic from a variety of sources. I take from any spells cast in the area or any enchantments I touch. In addition, my spells themselves are conduits that can take magic. Spells that strike my wards, for instance, replenish me.”

“And living things,” the Alchemist added.

Anneliese nodded. “Yes. And living things.”

“And does this place, this area… has it any relation to your power?” the Alchemist held his hand out and gestured to the mountains.

Anneliese nodded once more. “Yes. Argrave took me to the method, buried beneath these mountains. It was here I learned it from a man long ago dead.”

“Was Llewellen dead?” The Alchemist’s stare was colder than the grave.

Hearing that name, Anneliese blinked in surprise. “Yes, he was. He left his knowledge behind on a dwarven music box. I still have it, if you wish to hear it.”

“He failed, then.” The Alchemist turned, stepping back to Felipe’s corpse. “Pity.”

Anneliese could not help but walk back toward the ancient creature. First, Emperor Balzat of the ancient elven empire had known of Llewellen—now, the Alchemist?

“How did you know him?” she asked.

The Alchemist waved her away. “Ask me no more, for I shall speak no more.”

“You opened this clam,” she protested.

The Alchemist seemed to genuinely hesitate, then turned his head toward her. “Both you and that… elf, will be adrift for a long time without proper tutelage. Llewellen’s methods are as much a curse as they are a boon.” He turned back to Felipe’s skeleton. “Not my concern. I’ve said enough. Let your mate fret over your future.”

Anneliese stared at the Alchemist, mind swirling with questions. After a long while of silence, she turned and left. Each question she asked bred more. She didn’t think this matter was over. In fact, she was nearly certain this was the first of many conversations with the Alchemist.