jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-620

Upon seeing Durran clutching his head and howling at invisible enemies, Argrave first assumed the worst—that he had made a mistake, and he had fed poison to one of the most important people in his kingdom. He had survived the Fruit of Being, but others unrelated to the Gilderwatchers might not be able to endure its power. Or, worse yet, he’d been fooled by Gerechtigkeit, somehow.

With guilt and trepidation both in his heart, he approached the panicking Elenore and the in -agony Durran, who crawled about on the floor beside his bed. Both his hands were balled into tight fists, and he pounded his head with his knuckles. There was a large amount of blood, but Durran seemed entirely uninjured. Then, before his eyes, he saw wounds closing on Durran. It defied his expectations that the fruit had failed if his wounds would close so quickly.

“Help him!” Elenore commanded Argrave, trying to sound authoritative in spite of her worry. “You need to do something, Argrave!”

“Argrave?” Durran lifted his head up, scanning the room. His eyes trembled as if he was bearing an unimaginable weight. He rose shakily, but poor balance caused him to simply lunge at Argrave. He grasped at his knees. “Bastard… gods-damned bastard… get me out of here. Get me the hell out of here.”

Argrave kneeled down. “Focus, Durran. Focus. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Don’t…” Durran bashed his head against Argrave’s knee. “Don’t ask. Just do, do!” He closed his eyes and again screamed, “Shut up!”

Argrave’s eyes danced as he considered his options, then he grabbed Durran’s shoulder. “I’m taking you to Raven.”

“No, no, no! Absolutely not!” Durran crawled away from him like a rabid animal.

“He’s the only one who’ll know what’s wrong, Durran,” Argrave told him insistently.

“I know what’s wrong,” Durran managed coherently, his voice a crying whine. “Just take me away. Far away. Someplace with few people—no people.”

His brain whirled as he processed the strange request, but decided to simply give in. “Alright. I’ll take you to a wide-open field,” he promised.

Durran shook his head frantically, balling up. “People die on plains all the time. No plains. Water plains. The ocean,” he suggested, then latched onto the idea. “Yeah, ocean. Ocean with low people. Ocean between the places. The places we own. Middle of it.”

Argrave tried to translate his gibberish into comprehendible language, and eventually nodded. “The ocean between Vasquer and the Great Chu?”

“Yes, yeah!” Durran nodded frantically.

“Alright.” Argrave stood to his feet. I’ll bring… bring a small rowboat or something, teleport it with us.”

“I’ll find one,” Elenore promised, sprinting out the room the fastest he’d ever seen her move.

“Hang tight, Durran,” Argrave walked around, dispelling nervous energy. “Can I help you right now? Anything I can do?”

“Kill me,” he said.

Argrave nodded. “Any better ideas?”

“No,” he moaned sadly.

With a deep breath, Argrave prepared to figure out what the hell was happening.