JACKAL AMONG SNAKES-Novel

When Argrave gained awareness of his surroundings once more, he stared at an old man behind a desk. The man wore a jet-black suit, and had one leg crossed over the other. His eyes gleamed gold, and he had a sharp beard and slicked back gray hair that accentuated his sharp and almost devilish features.

“I always knew we’d be speaking someday,” said the Keeper of the Annals. “The day that you were recorded within the Annals, I knew I’d see you here. I thought it would be in a more servile manner, granted, yet here you are all the same.”

Argrave tried to look, move, but both actions failed him. This man was the Keeper—he was the one who delivered knowledge onto the recipient in Erlebnis’ Annals of the Universe. In this condition, Argrave was unable to move, speak, or do anything at all, because he wasn’t physically here. Everything he saw was what he thought, and what he imagined.

“Sifting around in that head of yours was very entertaining,” the Keeper said, switching his crossed legs. “A shame I can keep none of what’s in there. But I’m not here to talk. I’m here to… contextualize,” the old man held out his hands. “Help you make sense of the records we have.”

The Keeper rose to his feet, striding around the desk until he sat atop the desk just before Argrave in his strange captivity. “Unfortunately, we aren’t privy to the details of the birth of the man you know as the Alchemist. We know him as Raven. He tells no one about his past, and any who might know it are dead or… indisposed. The information we possess leads us to believe we don’t know about his birth because it was insignificant. Because he was insignificant. He rose above that, obviously.”

The Keeper reached out of Argrave’s view, and then grabbed something. He pulled a monitor on a metal arm down before them, and Argrave’s metaphorical eyes jumped out of his metaphorical head. But then, the Keeper was in a classic suit, clearly foreign to this realm—perhaps a monitor was not so far-fetched, as both were figments of his imagination meant to process the information the book imparted.

“This thing—so convenient,” the Keeper marveled. “A shame I cannot keep your memory of this. But enough talk,” the old man looked at Argrave firmly. “Enjoy the tale of the Smiling Raven… or as he was known before his immortality, just Raven.”

Just then, a black raven dove out of the screen at Argrave’s face. And the last thing he saw before his vision distorted was its beady gray eyes, closing in on his.

#####

“Tell me more of this Smiling Raven,” a voice said—Argrave felt as though it came from his mouth, but as his eyes finally managed to move, he spotted the Keeper.

The Keeper unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down upon a rock before Argrave, and time froze. “Our first record of the Smiling Raven came from an emissary’s scouting duty. He was speaking to an informant of ours—an acolyte to the goddess Hause.” The old man reached into his suit pocket and pulled free a small black remote. He pressed the play button, and the scene resumed.

Argrave refocused on what was ahead. “The Smiling Raven?” the contact repeated. Argrave could distinguish no details about this figure—he wasn’t allowed access to that knowledge, apparently. “Hause gave him the name, but he sticks with just ‘Raven.’ No one knows much about him. Hause took him in during this cycle—apparently, she went out of her way to retrieve him, to name him her champion. The whole thing was very hush-hush. That’s not unusual.”

“And his disposition?” the emissary pressed.

“He likes the new powers that he has, but he’s somewhat doubtful of the whole idea of faith,” the contact explained. “There is one strange thing, though. Hause refuses to disclose why she took him in.”

“Refuses everyone?” the emissary tilted its head, and Argrave’s vision shifted with it. “Any idea why?”

“Not a clue,” the contact said. “All I know is that her refusal annoys Raven most of all. He was a spellcaster before all of this, apparently. Fancies himself the knower of the unknown—you know the type. Might be you work with them often.”

Argrave heard another click, and looked over to see the Keeper rising while pressing the pause button. He tossed the remote aside, buttoned his suit, and then snapped. The scene faded away, coalescing into the figure of a woman. She looked young—a teenager, perhaps, though there was a mystic air about her. Her white skin was flawless, and her blonde hair had the faintest highlights of auburn at its roots.

“This was the goddess Hause. Erlebnis took particular interest in all that went around near her, because her sphere was rather… compelling.” The Keeper stepped up to her side, arms crossed around his back. “She governed potential. She was the closest thing to a seer among any of the gods, either now or then. She could see the innate potential of anyone she laid eyes upon. And she saw something in Raven. Well… the Smiling Raven, as she named him, wanted to know what she saw,” the Keeper continued, stepping up to Argrave. “He wanted to know what he was, just like you do now. I can tell you’re already guessing where this leads.”

The Keeper grinned brightly, showing his white teeth. A raven broke free of them, once again consuming Argrave’s vision.

#####

Myriad visions flowed through Argrave’s head as if he stared through a kaleidoscope. It all illustrated the vast complexity of Erlebnis’ schemes—the lengths that he went through to investigate things, the wide net of informants, witting and unwitting, that he cast in his pursuit of faint leads. It was deeply illuminating, and deeply terrifying.

Erlebnis constantly scrutinized everything—cities, towns, and the smallest of villages, looking for anything that was discarded or dropped. Beggars, hunters, administrators, nobles, and even kings… he employed them directly or by proxy, wringing every last bit of information out. Argrave realized that he would need to modify his Domain of Order in Blackgard if he truly hoped to be rid of Erlebnis’ influence. Even then, he saw all.

In these myriad visions, he saw Erlebnis close in on Raven. Though indebted to Hause, he was still a man seeking answers he was not permitted to have. His desire to know more led him away from her side, for she offered no answers that were satisfactory. He followed subtle hints, leading questions, cleverly placed notes and clues… it was like a trail of breadcrumbs, leading right into Erlebnis’ arms.

After a long time of delving through things long forgotten, the kaleidoscope faded away and one scene came to the forefront of Argrave’s journey of the mind. He beheld the Alchemist—the Smiling Raven, or more simply Raven—for the first time in Erlebnis’ long plot against Hause. And the man he saw was far removed from the image that Argrave possessed of him.

“I only seek answers,” Raven said. “Is that so much to ask of her?”

Raven was tall, and had gray hair that came from genetics rather than age. He dressed very well, sporting decadent finery, rings on his fingers, and jewelry dangling from his neck. Yet some aspects of the Alchemist that Argrave knew persisted. Even at this time, he still possessed mastery over his body. A cloak of raven feathers descended down from his neck, making him appear larger and more regal than he was. But of yet, that was the extent of his modification.

“Hause’s given me much,” Raven continued. “She has made my body mirror my self-image. That is a power beyond the realm of any magic I’ve learned. I will fight Gerechtigkeit, as she wishes. But I need answers to do so.”

Argrave felt one small ray of enlightenment—the Alchemist’s body, his unique constitution, was a blessing vested in him by a god. His body mirrored his self-image, apparently. If that were true, it meant that Argrave saw the Alchemist as he saw himself—a gargantuan noseless monstrosity with gray skin, gray eyes, and infinite adaptability.

“Seeking answers is the natural human path,” the emissary told Raven sagely. “To deny you that is an answer within itself, however.”

“Don’t try and turn me,” Raven shook his head. “Whether in my magic order, the royal palace, or Hause’s court, I know words and their use.”

“But words mean a little more to you now, don’t they?” the emissary held its grotesque arms out, and Raven flinched in obvious disgust. “With words alone, your self-image may shift.”

As pieces fit into place in Argrave’s head, the scene froze. The Keeper stepped into view. “You see it now. The Alchemist loathes conversation because his thoughts are his body. He has abandoned this Raven fellow you see, now. If he does not fully assume the identity of the Alchemist, he may shift away from that. He may, once again, become the fragile man you see here, Raven,” the Keeper waved back, then straightened his tie. “Or… he might once again become the Smiling Raven.”

The Keeper vanished and the scene resumed, and Raven said, “I’m aware. Hause refuses to tell me why she picked me. And you claim the reason she picked me is the reason why she will not tell me my potential. She believes that if I learn my prospects, my body will shift to match.”

“We do,” the emissary nodded.

“Have you proof?” Raven pressed. “More than just claims, more to distinguish this from another machination of the god of knowledge?”

“The god of knowledge has only knowledge,” the emissary claimed. “And we have learned that Hause ensures all of her other servants know precisely where you are, and precisely how you die. She fears you will kill her.”

Raven laughed. “That’s ludicrous. She took me under her wing.”

“And what better place for her killer than beneath her?” the emissary stepped away, retrieving a case. “But take not our word alone. We have thoroughly documented how, precisely, she prepares her own people to move against you. She has taken more measures against you than she has the other gods in this struggle against Gerechtigkeit.”

Raven took the case… and then the scene faded away.

######

“It took a long time to bring him around,” said the Keeper, standing in a space of blackness so absolute he seemed nothing more than a talking head with his suit. “Raven was… thorough. He vetted every single one of the people that he knew as his colleagues, and the goddess that he’d taken as his master. Apparently, when they first met, Hause told Raven that she saw something in him. Well… she did.” The Keeper’s golden eyes gleamed. “She saw potential. But she was very clearly not a seer, for she couldn’t predict her suspicion bred suspicion.”

The Keeper walked around Argrave, his voice echoing in his ears. “Erlebnis coveted Hause’s ability. Time and time again, the people she had chosen as champions changed the entire landscape of the mortal world. He tried to replicate her success with many people—Onychinusa was the latest of such examples. But Hause was a little more… empathetic, shall we say, than Erlebnis was. Erlebnis always failed to imitate her consequently. And so… he sought out a weak link in her court. He aimed to subvert rather than imitate.”

“The plan was simple,” the Keeper said. “Erlebnis wanted Hause as a slave—that was his intention from the start. But along the way, we learned why Hause feared the Smiling Raven so much as to prepare all her personnel to eliminate him.” The old man stepped closer through the void, coming to stand before Argrave. “You’ve already guessed the answer. I need not say it.”

It wasn’t her death she feared, no—Raven possessed potential to do much more than that, Argrave thought.

“Precisely.” The Keeper nodded despite Argrave’s silence, reading the depths of his mind. “The Smiling Raven had the potential to be a force beyond mortality, godhood, and Gerechtigkeit himself. But what actually happened… a tragedy, really. Something harsh enough to morph him into his present state. Inhuman. Contemptuous. Sociopathic. And woefully… subdued.”

The Keeper stepped away. “You have seen Raven. He was still human when we spoke to him, at first. But as Erlebnis’ words wormed their way into his head, and as the stresses of Hause’s scrutiny wore away at him… he embraced his role as the Smiling Raven. He actualized the potential that Hause saw, and grew into the name she bestowed upon him. And she had only herself to blame.”

The Keeper smiled broadly. “You thought Mozzahr was frightening? Well… let’s continue.”

Powerful winds seized the area, and the Keeper’s slicked gray hair blew in the wind. He faced the gale, golden eyes gleaming powerfully. And on the horizon, at the edge of the infinite blackness, came a raven with a wingspan of a mile. It had a crest of gray feathers across its chest and along the edge of its wings. It landed and spread these wings proudly, the gray feathers like the teeth in a smile.

And within its eyes, Argrave saw the birth of the Smiling Raven.