jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-616

Argrave stared into the fire as it roared. Some time ago it had been something familiar, but now it was only flame. There was no service—just a searing fire contained by a makeshift stone structure that signaled that the time for mourning Vasquer around Blackgard, and perhaps all of Vasquer. While it burned, Argrave’s mind kept running back to what Orion had asked of him. His brother had graciously decided to let him think on the matter.

He didn’t like these Fruits of Being, anymore. He’d been eager to get his hands on them, but after his powerlessness in preventing the death of their matriarch, it felt like nothing special. Maybe it was even something malignant. Despite the fear they might be tainted, he couldn’t deny there was a possessiveness blossoming in his heart. A hope they might be used for something else, or a desire to give it to the ‘right’ person.

Was Orion the ‘right’ person, or did he already have enough advantages in life?

Argrave’s instinct was to do nothing rashly, because Orion’s question was assuredly motivated by the grief of losing their ancestor. Elenore had cried in front of him, and Orion had the ambition to gain yet more power in pursuit of vengeance. Vasquer’s death had changed the temperament of two key factors in the Kingdom of Vasquer. Perhaps three, if Argrave counted himself, but he felt he was coping well.

Argrave felt a sense of déjà vu as the heat from the fire continued to assail him. His mind searched through what he might be thinking of, and eventually the answer came to him. Relize, the city hosted at a strategic location in an inland sea. He couldn’t think of why that came to mind until he remembered the bulk of time that he’d spent there. It had inspired one of his most outlandish feats; impersonating a snow elf to infiltrate and eventually gain control over the entire north of Vasquer.

He felt déjà vu because he felt the same feeling as he had, then. Stagnation.

Victory in the Great Chu and consolidation of the world’s deities into the Blackgard Union had been a change of mode, taking him from an active fight against a specifically defined enemy to a nebulous gathering of power. Finding Lindon, even, hadn’t been an especially proactive move. Rather, it had been handed to him—though, perhaps saying it was forced into his hands was a better way of putting it.

Eight months remained until Gerechtigkeit revealed himself, if all stayed as it was from Heroes of Berendar. Argrave couldn’t be totally sure of that fact. That was a long time to wait, hat in hand, while Gerechtigkeit attempted all manner of ungodly things. If he had many more tricks up his sleeve, more than Vasquer alone could perish. Lindon—if indeed that had been him—claimed his siblings were vulnerable, as they were related to Gilderwatchers. That meant Nikoletta was, too. Argrave suspected many noble houses carried at least some lineage with the royal house. Much of their leadership structure was vulnerable, but all that could be done was wait for the research team or other sources further information. Stagnation.

On top of that, Traugott would be scheming and conniving for any opportunity to get at Sophia, to get at Argrave. He hid within the Shadowlands, apparently, with a body made in Good King Norman’s image bearing the flesh of a Shadowlander. In Heroes of Berendar, the Shadowlanders had come months before Gerechtigkeit did, rising from the sea, falling from the sky, and crawling from the depths beneath the earth. Once again, all that could be done was wait for him to poke his head from his mole hole, where Anneliese would hopefully lock him into a duel he wasn’t certain she could win. Stagnation.

The White Planes were breaking? Wait until they learn more. The Gilderwatchers might be moving? Wait until Raven can confirm that. The Fruits of Being? Wait until an opportunity arises. Everyone’s minds are under attack? Wait until the research team devises a countermeasure.

It seemed that every time Argrave stopped running toward a goal, something caught up with him. As a rule, rushing water was cleaner than stagnant water. Being one step ahead was his bread and butter. He wasn’t a defensive player. Even when the Qircassian Coalition had come knocking on the door, he’d ended up sailing overseas to bring the fight to them. That had come with its ups and downs, but ultimately they had emerged as the winner beyond a shadow of a doubt.

It was better to be the invader than the invaded, right?

The best outcome would be not to have a war at all, but Argrave knew that it was an inevitability. Even if Traugott or Gerechtigkeit offered a peace of some kind, he wouldn’t accept it. After all that they’d done and tried to do, they deserved to be wiped out entirely. The world would be a better place without them drawing breath.

Two enemies stood in their path, as Argrave saw it. Traugott and Gerechtigkeit. The latter was beyond reach, for now, while the former… he was merely difficult to reach.

Argrave looked upon the fire as it crackled and burned. Without more fuel to call upon, the pyre was slowly shrinking. He’d thought that he’d never come up with something more outlandish than disguising himself as a snow elf, but it seemed that he had. Perhaps if he asked others they’d tell him he already had, but as he thought of what he intended, even he had to admit he might’ve lost his marbles.

Before Gerechtigkeit could receive his comeuppance, Traugott had to die. The fire in front of Argrave, started by the calamity, burned bright and bold, but it was what was hidden in the shadows that was the most dangerous. If Argrave allowed himself to be caught up in the wave of vengeance his siblings both clamored for, it might be playing into exactly what the calamity wanted. Lindon had explicitly warned them of the threat Traugott posed. Like a bolt, an idea came to him.

Gerechtigkeit’s impersonation of Lindon might be intended to make Argrave ignore Traugott.

It was just speculation, but Argrave felt a great deal of clarity after that. Viewed as a loud distraction, all of the questions about why Vasquer specifically had been targeted faded away. Lindon had just given him quite pointed advice on that matter, and Argrave intended to attack. Lindon had placed Traugott before even Gerechtigkeit in priority. If the calamity truly was on the verge of using mental attacks of some sort, he might’ve simply waited, biding him time until the grand finale. Instead, he showed his hand.

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Argrave closed his eyes, dissecting the idea again and again. Perhaps it was excessive paranoia. And there was another matter—it would be difficult to broach the idea with Elenore and Orion. Argrave knew them well enough to know Vasquer’s death wasn’t something they could just ignore, changing targets to Traugott without proper regard. Their bond had grown quite strong, but this was quite a request from his speculation alone.

To that end, he felt the need to consult someone smarter than he was. For now, he watched the pyre as it burned, casting glances at his siblings as they grieved.