Jackal Among Snakes Chapter 439

Published at 10th of October 2023 11:37:48 AM

Chapter 439: Mindfulness

Argrave, after stating that he needed to exhume Felipe, realized that this was one of the times where blunt honesty would not serve him as well as couching his speech in flowery language. After the fact, he struggled desperately to douse the rising flames of protest that Orion birthed. If Orion got any angrier, perhaps ‘dousing the flames’ would have been a literal activity.

But by the end of it all—Argrave desperately explaining his purpose in doing so, and Orion desperately seeking to honor the memory of his father… they sat side-by-side against the cave wall, Anneliese and Galamon standing near.

“In a way… you would be honoring his memory,” Argrave said optimistically. “With this, we can prove that it was Gerechtigkeit’s influence that corrupted him.”

Orion looked at Argrave. “Would you truly make that fact known?”

“…it might cause unnecessary fear among the people if it were to happen right away,” Argrave said, managing only that vague response to Orion’s question.

“If it helps…” Orion closed his eyes, then ran his huge hands across his face. “If it might help your cause, I am willing.” He turned to look at Argrave. “But you must hear out a request of mine.”

“Certainly,” Argrave answered, fearing no grand request from this ascetic brother of his.

“There are only two things I want,” Orion said, rising to his feet. “I wish to be free of these falsely named blessings once Gerechtigkeit lies dead and broken. Even I am not so foolish as to seek to have them purged in the midst of this mortal struggle, but I wish them gone nonetheless. As for the second…” Orion rubbed his hands together. “Please, fix my mother’s mind. Nothing else would please me greater.”

Argrave stared at Orion, then also rose to his feet. “The first one… the first one I can do without question. The second, however…”

Argrave’s words did not come to him immediately. It wasn’t because he hadn’t been thinking about Orion’s mother, Valeria—rather, it was because he had been thinking about her and didn’t care to share his true thoughts. His mother’s mental illness was so severe that she was incapable of living independently. Elenore was not related to her by blood as Valeria was Felipe’s second wife, yet the princess quietly bore the burden of paying servants to keep her from hurting herself. That alone was more than Felipe had done—he locked her in a tower, bound, and fed her like a dog.

Valeria had suffered much. The fact remained, however, Felipe’s corpse might not be a material good enough. And if the knowledge from the game was true—that Gerechtigkeit had broken Valeria’s mind to turn Felipe further into cruelty—then she was the best possible material remaining. That was a difficult road to cross. Even Argrave held compunctions about involving Valeria. Given that Argrave was fine, she might not be harmed should the Alchemist experiment on her… but even still, it was much to ask.

“You hesitate. I know that I mentioned taking her to that flame that House Quadreign bears, but you said it wouldn’t help,” Orion crossed his arms. “This Alchemist… he seems capable of everything. Is it impossible to free Valeria’s mind?”

Argrave had a little difficulty meeting Orion’s gaze, but he forced his head upward. “Honestly, I’m not even sure that it can be done. The brain… the brain is very complex. Even those things you saw, those Pawns—the best the Alchemist can do is copytheir memories to one another. He cannot implant knowledge. Erlebnis can. And given that, the only other I could think of…” He sighed deeply. “I know of a god who could heal her.”

Orion closed his eyes. “How I have come to loathe that word. Divinity feels an illusion, yet a powerful one difficult to break free of.” He opened his eyes, then focused on Argrave. “I will exhume our father, knowing it is for a good cause.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Orion,” Argrave said in relief, grasping his shoulder. “Then let’s return.”

Elenore fidgeted with the ring that Durran had given her to protect herself. He sat across from her, in a private dining chamber beside their guest room in the Lionsun Castle. This place had many amenities fit for royalty, as royalty often visited House Parbon in the days of old.

“Why are you so concerned? Getting a letter is a lot different than getting a visit. Argrave hasn’t met the man yet,” Durran leaned his glaive up against the wall and slouched over the table.

Elenore looked at him. “Historically, Argrave is known to be rather… well, optimistic. If there’s some sort of perfect solution, he’ll strive for that instead of taking the easy out. And the idea of meeting with Mozzahr, working out some sort of agreement? If that tempts him, I’m not sure I can dissuade him.” She popped her fingers. “Perhaps… the only ones that know are… never mind,” she waved her hand and shook her head.

“You’re thinking of keeping it from him?” Durran raised a brow, then leaned in. “Interesting thought. Not very smart, but interesting.”

“That sums you up quite well,” Elenore glanced at him sternly. “We don’t need the risk, don’t need the discussion… but damn it all, I can’t hide this. Literally and personally. I won’t ever lie to Argrave again.”

“Do you think Argrave is really that gullible? I don’t. Maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way,” Durran pointed out, moving his hand between his eyes and hers. “Maybe this can be a boon rather than a bane. An alliance probably won’t happen—if Argrave didn’t even consider it, the guy has to be a bastard. But there are other ways to benefit besides that.”

Elenore stayed silent, placing her arm atop the table and supporting her head with her hand. She gazed off into the distance, her gray eyes dark and thoughtful. After a long moment of silence, the gray grew brighter, and she started to lift her head away from her hand.

Just then, someone knocked on the door, and her head turned to it quickly. Durran rose up and answered the door, and one of the margrave’s knights stood outside.

“Princess Elenore. The men have spotted a returning wyvern,” the man dipped his head respectfully.

Elenore rose to her feet at once. “They’ve returned, then. Let’s go.”

The reunited royal family stood on the walls of House Parbon’s Lionsun Castle. Argrave was watching the wyvern as its rider fed it. Everyone was exhausted, but Argrave, Anneliese, Orion, and Galamon persisted to hear Elenore’s urgent words.

“A parley?” Argrave repeated, flabbergasted. “He might as well write a note for me to kill myself. I’ll pass,” he shook his head decisively. “Maybe I can write a counter-note. What might be a good thing to say? Perhaps it should be a more literal version of his note. But then, narcissists never kill themselves. It’s why his letter didn’t work on me, and why mine wouldn’t work on him.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Ignore me. I’m tired and rambling after flying for twelve hours. Anyway, my answer—"

“I think you should go,” Elenore said plainly.

“Go?” Argrave repeated, looking at her with shock. “Did you say go? As in, go underground, into the homeland of the enemy? Well, conquered homeland, but homeland nonetheless,” he shook his head. “I don’t care to see an aurora borealis of death, even if Melanie said it was really pretty.” He looked at her suspiciously. “But you always hate when I do dangerous things. What am I missing? Will we be sending a body double? As it happens, I might have just the person for that…”

Elenore looked at him solemnly, then sighed. “Maybe we should talk about this at another date. It’s clear you’re tired, and Mozzahr has waited long enough before this… so we have time to think of our course of action. I need to refine this idea of mine, anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I want to sleep. Feels like I’ve been… turned inside out.” Argrave glanced to his queen. Anneliese shook her head upon hearing that joke only she would understand, but did flash a tired smile at him.

Elenore nodded. “Rest, then. Perhaps I should not have bombarded you with this mere seconds after your return. We have something of a show to put on tomorrow, anyhow. We have to announce Durran to the world, bring all the wyvern riders into the heart of Vasquer as allies.”

Argrave spared a glance at Orion. “True enough. And there’s been… a development.”

“Yes?” Elenore pressed.

“I invite you to visit with us, Elenore,” Orion offered his hand.

Elenore refused Orion’s invitation to exhume Felipe. She tried to be polite about it. ‘Tried’ being the operative word, there. Then again, Orion must’ve been expecting such an answer. With that matter settled, they headed to their chambers for the night.

Despite Argrave claiming that he was tired, he did not immediately head to sleep. His mind was abuzz with a thousand things—the possibility of learning the truth about the why of things, the process of magic segmentation that Castro had taught him, and the idea of learning [Blood Infusion]… it was all so enticing.

What began as Argrave leafing through his papers about [Blood Infusion] in bed became a full-on practice session, where he dissected various pieces of blood magic using the process of segmentation. Eventually, he went to claim a desk to spread out papers and analyze things. He became so absorbed in his studies that he barely heard someone walking up behind him.

“Been a while since I saw you so happy with magic alone,” Anneliese commented.

Argrave jumped slightly and looked back. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“In a manner of speaking. Hard to sleep without your warmth,” she said, shaking her head. Her words made Argrave smile like a fool, but she continued, “Would you like some help?”

“I…” Argrave considered that, then looked back to his paper. “I wouldn’t say no to more eyes. But I don’t think I need it. Not this time.” He looked at her. “Not that I’m saying you’re not—”

“I understand,” she interrupted consolingly with a smile. “Because this is yours.”

Argrave nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. Kind of sounds possessive, or secretive, but… feels right. Feels like it’s really mine.”

Anneliese walked up to look down at what he’d done. “Then… when might you succeed?”

Argrave noted her words—when, not if—and looked back with a small chuckle. “At this rate? Far faster than I expected it to be… provided I don’t get distracted constructing new spells. I’ve been thinking. Why eels of electricity alone? Why not fire? Ice? Or… or, even blood magic?” Argrave tapped his desk eagerly, pointing out small diagrams of his. “[Blood Infusion] might make that obsolete, but the points stands. I can mix and match parts. If I think about other things I might create… it’s a dream.”

Anneliese looked between the papers. “This does not come as easy to me as it does for you. I suppose that we simply view magic in a different way.”

“Definitely. I can barely read your notes. They read like scribbles you might find in an insane asylum,” he teased her.

Anneliese smiled broadly. “So I have been told. But the day is long, tomorrow. It would not do to let the people see you with baggy eyes when marrying Elenore off to the barbarous King of the Scorched Sands. And grave-digging while fatigued seems troubled work.”

Argrave laughed lightly. “To sleep, then. And to a rough day tomorrow.”

Chapter end