jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-604

What did Lindon want?

The only things that they had learned that might clue them in was what he had done and what he had said. He seemed to have vague dominion over much of the world, though was in some ways limited by the events of millennia past—unfortunately, Argrave hadn’t seen the details of this peace treaty to know how his vast power was limited. Despite his power, Lindon remained largely unseen, largely unfelt. He clearly could influence the world—the three of them, plus the city they had passed through, was evidence enough of that.

“He allowed us to come here,” Elenore’s voice entered his mind through Lira’s connection. “There’s significance to that act.”

Orion, however, spoke aloud. “Gods, no matter their kinship, remain ever-bound to their domain. Lindon has mastery over minds, dreams, and consciousness.”

As Argrave took in their opinions, accepting they were deferring to his choice for now, he had thoughts of his own. Was the answer in front of them, as plain as day? Had Lindon merely wanted the Fruit of Being? Even despite that bizarre journey they’d gone through, details remained muddled as to what that fruit actually was.

“I’d like to ask a question,” Argrave called out to Lindon as the tide of snakes raged all around him.

The tree that Lindon coiled about glowed brilliantly, and Argrave recognized that familiar sensation—the glow of amusement. Argrave thought the serpent’s silver maw was inches away from his face, yet somehow the deity moved it miles closer until Argrave could feel the warm breath from the serpent’s nose.

“I am glad the atmosphere did not make you act overeagerly,” Lindon said, his voice echoing around Argrave’s skull like a bullet ricocheting in a metal room. “You may each ask one, but I shall decide how to answer, if at all. Elenore has already expended hers.”

They looked between each other, and Argrave pointed to himself indicating he had something he wished to ask. Neither dissented, and so Argrave walked across the tide of gold.

“What are these Fruits of Being capable of?” Argrave asked.

“Being,” Lindon said as if it was a stupid question, and Argrave briefly considered if he was going to be mocked and answered with that alone before the snake continued. “Should you plant it into the ground, life would sprout; a Gilderwatcher, born of your collective will and tempered by ours. Such is how the first of us were born. We are will manifest, but the fruit is more than merely that. It is potential. It is the future.”

Lindon pulled his head backward and ascended in a corkscrew. “Should you eat it, you will be made greater, reforged by your will and that of those within the tree. Should you cut it, bountiful fertility will pour from its wound, reshaping even the most barren wastelands into fertile fields capable of growing crops enough to feed millions. Should you desire anything else of it, you need only act with conviction. Anything that is within its power, it will do. Is that not the nature of Being?”

Having heard its description, Argrave knew what the hell he wanted—that fruit. The question, however, remained unanswered. That didn’t feel like something that the giant serpent before him truly desired. He had no insights into the truth of Lindon’s being, but what he saw was the deity’s countless relatives—those Lindon ostensibly raised, nurtured, as family. Children were reflections of their parents, in part, and Argrave didn’t see budding blossoms of ambition. Neither did he see any burden from the Gilderwatcher’s fall from grace and subsequent peace treaty. Argrave had felt the scars from the war, but each wound spoke only of a desire to avoid forcing others into the same fate. They would not war because they had endured war.

Rather, the crux of the Gilderwatcher’s philosophy was harmony. Whether it was with themselves, with others, with any who was feasible—they wanted peace, and little more. Despite their great bulk and fearsome presence, Argrave had never once seen them use great force. Argrave knew Vasquer sustained herself not on the flesh and blood of animals, but by the mere presence and will of those within Blackgard.

Their power rested in others. And that was all the realization Argrave needed.

Argrave looked at Orion for him to ask his questions, but he was taken aback by the conviction on the man’s face. His brother bunched his large black beard together and said, “I believe I know the answer, Argrave.”

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Ordinarily, Argrave might’ve stepped in and dissuaded his brother from acting—Elenore, too, for that matter. She might’ve been more insistent, in fact. But after everything they’d been through, they understood each other. Orion wasn’t dull-witted, or wrong, or malignant. He was merely different. Orion was as deserving as giving the answer as any of them.

“Go ahead,” said Argrave with a nod. And Elenore joined him in offering consent.

Orion looked right at Lindon, perched up and reaching toward heaven from atop his tree. He held his hand out and said, “You wish from us nothing more than any other Gilderwatcher. You wish us to Be.”

Argrave closed his eyes, listening, while Elenore crossed her arms and nodded.

Orion continued, “You want us to persist in this world, taking in its malevolence and benevolence with open hands. You wish us to return here, rest at the base of your tree, and share all that we are with the same openness as we received it. You wish us to remain as one with our kin, united by the fact that we have Been, and will continue to Be.”

The snakes forming the ocean ceased to writhe, and in moments the whole of them became calm. Lindon craned his silver body across it all, coming down from the tree. His colossal silver body slowly wrapped around them, obscuring everything from sight.

“Is that your final answer?” Lindon’s voice tore into Argrave’s skull, almost enough to make him stagger. “Does he speak for all of you.”

“He does,” confirmed Elenore.

“Yep,” added Argrave.

“You were so close.” Lindon shook his head. “But… it’ll do, I suppose. One must be somewhat lenient with one’s blood. I want that, yes.” He slowly lowered his head, looking over them all. “But next time, I expect you to bring your children. And your spouses as well, even if they cannot participate fully in this great festival of Being. Hopefully, the next melding will not take place in a millennium. Even I cannot say whether it will or will not, given the magnitude of what you intend to attempt. There are things even my mind cannot know, and that task rests on you, doesn’t it? But… I shan’t keep you longer. We’ll speak again soon, when you’ve had a moment to enjoy the restoration of your friend. Give my greetings to Vasquer. And… please, help her remember us.”

Lindon’s body compressed, wrapping around them. When it met Argrave, he was greeted by darkness.