Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave and Anneliese spent their time stuffing their packs full of the valuable things in this library. There were bags enough to carry more than they probably had a right to. Onychinusa looked a little taken aback at their blatant raiding, but this place was a point of research for shamanic magic. There were many spells to go around. Unfortunately, the old emperor had no care for enchanting--in the end, that didn’t matter. The search parties sent out to scour old ruins undoubtedly would unearth just what was needed.

And so, with their pockets overflowing, they returned to Orion, where he was promptly given several packs to carry.

“I promised I’d deal with the mandragora,” Argrave reflected, looking back as he offloaded the last of the bags.

“...and the Yateveos,” Orion reminded him, carrying several bags on his arm like he’d just gotten home from the grocery store.

“I think we can, and without fear. But the library might fall,” Anneliese said innocently.

At this, Onychinusa looked a little distressed. “Wait...” she said quietly, her voice trailing off as she suppressed her speech.

“What? You don’t want the library to crumble into that bottomless abyss, never to be recovered?” Argrave asked, hamming up the description.

Onychinusa looked pained, but she eventually managed a nod of confirmation.

“I did make a promise,” Argrave said, as though his promises held great weight. Onychinusa looked to the side while tapping her feet, and so Argrave continued, “Does this library mean a lot to you?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“If it doesn’t mean a lot, then you’d be fine if everything inside was buried in stone and tree parts, forgotten by the world...” he provoked, and when he saw the effect on her temperament quickly continued, “But if it does mean something to you, I can find a way out of it.”

“Really?” Onychinusa looked at him.

“Sure. I appreciate you enough to do that much," Argrave nodded.

Onychinusa looked at the library and the mandragora, then back at Argrave. "Knowledge has to be preserved, right?"

He smiled back. "Sure. Then, let's go. You have a dryad to talk to."

#####

When they returned, they saw Batbayar and the mother dryad having a conversation. The two turned their heads when they saw the returning four, and Anneliese asked Onychinusa, “Might I come with you, or do you wish to be alone? I am curious about what recovering your lineage entails, and have some questions of my own to ask.”

Onychinusa’s gaze was distant, and her mind was elsewhere enough it took her a moment to process a question had been asked. “What? Oh. I don’t care,” she said, completely out of sorts.

Anneliese took the agreement without a word, leaving the ancient elf to her thoughts. Meanwhile, she whispered to Argrave, “I’ll do my part. Trust me,” she said, her breathing tingling his ear.

When she pulled away, Argrave gave her a nod. Once they came near the dryad, Argrave called out, “Batbayar. A word?”

The myriarch was sitting underneath the dryad's home tree, but when called stood up and walked to where Argrave and Orion awaited him. As with most people, he seemed a little intimidated having two towering people nearby, but he stood firm nonetheless.

“Was just catching up with the dryad, fishing out some information...” Batbayar looked at him, while Argrave was doing his best to make his face look dour. “You look... grim.”

I feel grimmer, Argrave thought, but he was glad he was acting this out well. He couldn’t make an overt bid against Altan. He didn’t think that anything he did would pass, there. At the end of the day, he did admire and respect the elven army’s discipline. And so... perhaps it was best for them to deal with their own. Perhaps it was best to use their system against the corruption within it.

“I think it’s about time I tell you why I went behind the backs of the other myriarchs to come here,” Argrave began, making his voice quiet and gruff for effect.

Batbayar stared with those fierce red eyes of his. “I thought you had told me,” he said in an accusatory tone.

“There were some things I couldn’t tell you,” Argrave explained. “Not until I was totally certain myself. Understand, though, that it’s because if I didn’t have proof, I’d only make an enemy of you.”

“And you have that proof now?” Batbayar listened intently, holding judgment.

"Yes," Argrave nodded. "I’ll say it straight: one of the myriarchs betrayed us.”

Batbayar didn’t change expressions noticeably, but something about his mien became all the scarier in half a second. “You were right about making an enemy of me without proof, I hope you realize.”

“Has the dryad told you about the end of the ancient elven empire, about your true origins in the rebellion?” Argrave began.

Batbayar looked hesitant to speak, but he slowly said, “We’re rebel slaves. It’s a secret privy only to myriarchs.”

“That was something orchestrated to bring down the empire,” Argrave continued. “Onychinusa over there... she’s the last living ancient elf, and indeed the last member of their imperial family. The very same being that orchestrated the death of the old empire has come back for seconds. With the dryads’ ability, we learned the truth of her birth... and in that library down below, we received proof.”

“A truly despicable being, this Erlebnis,” bemoaned Orion, listening intently. He set down the bags he held one-by-one.

“Through my own personal experience, I know that those creatures your army fought were Erlebnis’ servants,'' Argrave continued. “And I can’t say this for certain, as we weren’t there... but if things are as I suspect, your army was taken by surprise. We know Chiteng betrayed your gods, but if I’m right... perhaps one of your Tumens was not hit as hard as the rest. Perhaps its leader quickly got control of the situation, minimizing losses and assuming command in one fell swoop. And perhaps... perhaps there is a reason those monsters didn’t focus your army, wipe it out, and then switch to the gods.”

Batbayar shifted on his feet, the point driving home as he connected dots. “You say all of this, but there’s a reason I stayed behind while you went off into those ruins again. It was to ask the dryad what that woman was, since I wasn’t sure I could get a straight answer from you,” he continued. “The mother dryad talked, King Argrave. And from what I remember of its explanation... the reason that woman was kept alive was because she was taken in by Erlebnis.”

Trees aren’t supposed to talk, damn it all, Argrave thought, though his face was stone.

“That's true," Argrave didn't deny it, and was about to continue before Batbayar interrupted.

"And in terms of who I trust, I'm far less likely to suspect those who I've lived and died beside than a silver-tongued despot from a family of conquerors and rapists."

In a blur, Orion seized the S-rank myriarch's neck, saying firmly, "You ought to atone for those words."

"Stop!" Argrave shouted, putting his hand on Orion's wrist as Batbayar struggled to breathe. "Don't make enemies where we have friends, Orion. He's right."

"He isn't. You bleed for ingrates. All of us remaining are good, and you are the best of us," the prince said with eerie quiet.

"Prove that," Argrave gripped his arm.

Orion released Batbayar, though his anger did not seem abated.

Argrave said cautiously as Batbayar coughed, “Forgive him. What you said was too much, but that response was the same. Let's end it there before things get out of hand. Fundamentally, we are in agreement."

"No..." Batbayar coughed, rubbing his throat. "No, I deserved that. I understand his rage. If you doubt my myriarchs, you doubt my family... so I understand. And I hope you understand why I view you with suspicion, bringing that ancient elven woman into this."

Argrave gathered his thoughts as Batbayar caressed his throat. Then, he felt a rush of confidence, and so said, "I don't think she's a servant of Erlebnis. After all, she's going to heal the forest. That's rather contrary to what he wants."

"She is?" Batbayar narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah. Onychinusa will heal this forest," he nodded, going all-in on Anneliese's promise.

But if she doesn't... guess it's all over, now.

#####

How in Veid's name does he do it? Anneliese thought as she walked with Onychinusa deeper with the mother dryad.

She'd told Argrave to trust her, and though she felt full of confidence in that moment, when it came to finding the words to lead Onychinusa toward subverting Kirel Qircassia's presence the only thing that came to mind was his name. It repeated in her head, clarifying her objective without offering any solution to the problem. She was as despondent as Onychinusa.

...or perhaps less so, for the ancient elven woman broke past her haze and asked, “What does rediscovering my lineage actually entail?”

“It’s very simple,” the dryad looked back, her dark hair swaying with a light breeze. “You will claim all that any citizen of the empire had... and from there, you will claim your birthright as last heir to the imperial throne.”

“The throne is here?” Onychinusa asked, surprised.

The dryad laughed. “No. It’s not a physical throne... indeed, perhaps it’s not even a figurative throne, given the decay of the empire... but if you do as you must, you will have the power to command me and all of these childrens. Even now, we are your slaves.”

Onychinusa looked confused. “You would give me power over you?”

“Power means nothing to me. This is what I want, because it is what my children want,” the dryad said calmly.

The ancient elf was thrown into confusion upon hearing this, and scrutinizing her Anneliese finally felt she had some inkling of how to proceed.

You can understand others... but she cannot. Be a bridge, let her in, make her trust... and then work, Anneliese thought with clarity. And in the end, perhaps she could serve another of her interests at the same time.

“Then where are we going?” Onychinusa continued.

“It’s further yet. It’s the secret to that mist those strange foxes want so badly... and the key to keeping this place safe,” the dryad assured calmly. “If you wish, we can run.”

“There was something we were talking about earlier,” Anneliese quickly interjected, as that was the last thing she wanted. “About the man that came with me.”

“His parents... yes,” the dryad slowed her walk, deciding to walk with the three of them. Onychinusa looked vaguely miffed, but she said nothing. “One of them was a king. His mind... it was unwell. It was poisoned-- indeed, it was the very first thing the great arbiter touched. He changed nothing about the man, just... removed things. Empathy. Satisfaction. Inhibition. With only those gone, he was a slave to the desires and curiosities we all feel, but the better parts of us purge.”

“I know this,” Anneliese nodded. “It’s the other parent I’m curious about.”

“His niece,” the dryad looked at Anneliese and said quietly. “It was the king’s niece-- ironically, a bastard herself, though unacknowledged by her father. That man here today, Argrave, was an experiment and a humiliation for the king. A foray into the forbidden. Fascinating enough to keep alive... but repulsive enough to torment. I suspect, given his father’s temperament... that boy bears many scars, just as his mother. They’re all under the skin, though, healed by magic. From even a glimpse of him... the king was ever fond of seeing how loudly people could scream, then making sure they whispered not a word of it after.”

Anneliese felt a little sick after hearing that, but clinging on to the fact that the soul in Argrave’s skin had not endured such a life gave her comfort enough to ward it away. She looked at Onychinusa, who seemed disturbed but simultaneously lacked the experience to express that feeling.

“...it seems you learn of many royal lineages, today,” Anneliese said glibly.

With the experience connected back to her own, Onychinusa seemed to resonate with Argrave’s story. Anneliese felt like she’d finally managed to get beneath the woman’s armor. All that remained was driving home the notion that she should sabotage Kirel Qircassia. Even still, she couldn’t find that organic connection. If she poked now, that armor would be back up in seconds.

“Will you tell him?” Onychinusa asked, then shook her head. “No-- does he know?”

“She... died young, from what he told me,” Anneliese quickly supplied. “Yes, I will tell him. Everyone should have the chance to learn of their lineage. But what is done is done. He will keep moving forward as he always has... independent of his father,” she said, the words coming to her naturally. The next words, too, practically came out of her mouth before she thought them.

“Even independently, Argrave has ended up doing what his father wanted,” Anneliese sighed.

“What did he say he wanted of him?” Onychinusa asked slowly.

“He never said it,” Anneliese laughed. “But he lived it. King Felipe III, despite his faults in the categories of his children, wanted them to resent him. He subconsciously wanted them to view him as a villain, that they might overcome him by becoming him-- a better him. He never told Argrave this, but nonetheless he came to learn,” she continued gravely, caught up in her own lie so heavily it almost felt like truth.

As Onychinusa listened intently, Anneliese finished pointedly, “All any parent wants is for their children to live a certain way... and not just because they’re told. Because they know what to do without being told.”

With the bridge of connection formed, the words sunk home all the deeper. Anneliese could see the self-reflection on Onychinusa’s face, as clear as day. Argrave once talked about something called a Trojan Horse, and she felt it was rather fitting here.

“We’re here,” the dryad said, drawing Anneliese away from her thoughts. “Just inside here,” the dryad gestured, where all the children sat at the entrance to a cave beneath the roots. They were unusually silent.

Looking at Onychinusa take a deep breath of apprehension, Anneliese knew something. The seed is planted. Now comes cultivation... and then harvesting. You won’t be the only one growing a forest, Onychinusa...