jackal-among-snakes-16091326
chapter-630

Argrave and Anneliese wore strange robes of Artur’s design. They were made of metal formed into a wire—how it had been crafted was beyond Argrave, but apparently, it was made of electrum. Argrave had rather embarrassingly thought electrum was a fantasy metal, but no—it was an alloy of gold, silver, and a few other metals. Both of them looked like they were going into a rave, doubly so because every single inch of metallic thread had been enchanted. The worst part was, Artur had insisted their flesh be bare against the metal robes. To say the least of the situation, it made cotton seem pleasant by comparison.

Despite the uncomfortable garment, watching Artur consumed by his strange mood was truly a sight to behold. His ability to multitask was exceptional—he spent as little time travelling as possible, efficiently routing his path around the forge so that he would move to one task and stick to it until all that he’d gathered had been put to use. He mumbled to himself all while he worked.

It all seemed rather excessive until one realized the level of detail each part of the work contained. If every inch of the metal robes they wore were enchanted, that same level of detail was doubtlessly replicated elsewhere. It was heartening to know he was putting so much work into creating this artifact. No one else could likely create something so intricate in this day and age.

The former Magister of the Gray Owl was very secretive about his unnamed A-rank ascension, but it was a large part of his success as a craftsman. In essence, he could use magic to determine something’s structure. It was a vague description, Argrave knew, but he supposed its true effect could only be experienced by the one who bore it. He could tell at a glance something’s material composition, the layout of an enchantment, or how an object was held together. It might be likened to [Truesight], but that was geared toward perception while Artur’s was geared toward analysis.

“Alright.” Artur descended off his cloak, alighting and looking between everything. “We’re ready.”

With that declaration, Artur opened a small metal box that contained the Fruit of Being. He turned it upside down, and it fell into his hand. As Argrave and Anneliese both came to attention, he beckoned them forward.

“Reach in. You, there. And you, that one,” he instructed them, pointing out two metal boxes with openings barely large enough for a hand. “Take hold, firmly.”

They both heeded his instructions, reaching inside their respective boxes and grasping what was within. It took Argrave a moment, but he recognized the feel of the Resonant Pillar. Additions had been made, but the core of it was the same. Artur squeezed in between them and placed the Fruit of Being in a chamber bridging the two boxes. He slid a lid shut, then rested his hand on a knob at the top of the box.

“Door locked?” He looked over, confirming the door to the workshop was indeed closed. “Alright. Whatever you do, don’t let go. It shouldn’t be painful, but if it is, bear with it. I shudder to imagine what the things I’ve coded to happen will do if one half of the equation is simply missing.”

Anneliese studied him. “Coded?”

Artur pushed the knob in, and Argrave heard a squelch. Had he just crushed the Fruit of Being?

“In craftsmanship, many things are about efficiency. It’s a lot easier to make a machine that makes what you need than to do it by hand. Imagine if we smelted with magic instead of a forge, for instance, or ground wheat by hand instead of with a mill. This process might’ve taken us weeks if I hadn’t made this contraption—weeks during which your royal presences would need to lie stark naked on a table.”

Argrave was sure of it—the Fruit of Being had been crushed. As a matter of fact, he was certain he heard juices flowing.

“Instead, I’ve delegated the minutiae to the powers that be, so to speak.” Artur stepped away, examining things. “While they do their business, let me tell you about the royal heirlooms I’ve made. Indeed, you’ll be passing these items down to your heirs for time eternal.”

Argrave wanted to look at Artur, but he couldn’t turn with his arm embedded in the box. He stared at Anneliese as she, too, exuded the same desire to turn around.

“Argrave’s staff is the negative side of the equation. It negates, erases. It’s intended to take in what permeates the Shadowlands, leaving behind emptiness which can then be replaced by the positive side of the equation—Anneliese’s staff. Hers can take that which is negated and recreate it in a fashion more hospitable to you and those near to you. These weapons can effectively rebuild the Shadowlands into a state more habitable for you and yours. I wish I could give you more detailed information about what that entails, but all I know is that’s what it’ll do.”

Argrave felt a cold liquid fall over his hand. Then, he felt a strange tingling travel up the sleeve of the electrum robe that he wore. The Resonant Pillar seemed to morph and twist in his hand, and in response he tightened his grip.

“But they’ll have more functions, as intended. I cannot rightly say what, but the reason I chose the two of you wasn’t coincidence. For one, you’re the king and queen—through you, I hope to make my works last longer and earn me great repute. But for the second reason, I’ve seen in both of you something that resonates with your respective side of the equation. I don’t know how to explain it, but… there’s that.”

As Argrave looked at Anneliese, old memories surfaced. As far back as when he first tamed the Brumesingers, he was told that he had an affinity for death. It had never again come up, so he figured it might’ve meant he’d be talented at necromancy or something of the sort. Perhaps it was why he was drawn to blood magic.

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And Anneliese… even dismissing the fact her A-rank ascension was called [Life Cycle], Hause had claimed that her potential was related to eternity. There had been too many possible explanations for that to so quickly decide on one, but Argrave thought it might fit, somehow. Hause had claimed his potential was judgment, which somewhat fit with the affinity to death.

“Through death, comes life,” Artur continued. “That is the embodying principle behind these weapons: dualism. I said that, already, but you should remember it. Considering Argrave’s ability awakened by the Fruit of Being is to deal death with his blood magic… it stands to reason there should also be one to bring life after the fact. What you destroy, she will heal. Your negation will be supplanted by her addition. With these two polarities, it’s my aim that you will become an invulnerable pair, bound by fate. I believe the two of you will be fond of this idea,” Artur said proudly. “It’s a craftsman’s role to predict what you want out of your commission, after all. And there is no craftsman superior to me.”

Argrave felt a strange power surge through the electrum robe, following the tracks that had been laid out by Artur. It wreathed over all of it, and then… the metal started absorbing into Argrave’s skin. It disintegrated and soaked in like golden lotion. Looking at Anneliese, she, too, was experiencing the same thing. It wasn’t painful, but Argrave’s whole body felt tingly. It felt as if he was being massaged from inside and out.

Then, Argrave felt the Resonant Pillar shrink in his hands. In panic, he gripped tighter… but in time, there was nothing left to grip. And soon after, the incredibly jarring sensations occurring all around his body also stopped. Looking down… the electrum robes had vanished in entirety. Only his bare skin remained.

Artur had turned around long in advance. “You can remove your hands. And cover yourself up. I put some blankets on the table, there.”

Argrave walked toward their clothes, eyes lingering on Anneliese in concern and curiosity as he grabbed one of the blankets. He was glad he had been so cautious, because it was in time to see her stagger and fall. He rushed forth and caught her before her head could impact with the ground ungracefully. She felt dreadfully cold in his arms, and he brought the blanket over her.

“Anne? Anne!” he said insistently. “What’s wrong? You’re cold.”

“I feel… dizzy. Heavy,” she said groggily.

“I should…” Argrave thought urgently of who was needed, making to move her elsewhere as he covered her better with the blanket.

She grabbed his hair sloppily, fussing against the blanket. “Stay. You feel good. Come here.”

“What?” Argrave studied her for a few moments, until he felt it. It was as though Anneliese was taking something from him, something innate. She clung to him tighter in her haze, pulling his head downward in an awkward embrace.

“I think… I think I know what’s happening,” Artur walked up to them. “I’ve paired you, but the equation is imbalanced in your favor. From what I can see, the weapons have merged without incident. Now, both sides have to be of equal strength. Think of it like a scale. A balancing act,” he explained.

“You’re sure?” He insisted of Artur, giving in to Anneliese lest she pull out his hair.

“I’m certain,” Artur nodded, his eyes gleaming. “I can see it happening right in front of me.”