Jackal Among Snakes

The dryads called her a mistake... but her entire life, whether it was at her mother’s side or at the mercy of her grandmother’s teachings, Anneliese defined herself. It was a pride she kept within, buried beneath all. The pride of choice. Wherever it was she landed, she never wished to think that it had not been her choice. To that end, she would strive until the last time her heart beat.

Let her use that pride today to make a better life for the family she chose.

And like a flame had burnt it away, that sickness in her stomach was gone. Anneliese walked by Onychinusa and the mother dryad deep into this mysterious cave. Behind them, the dryad children walked like a funeral march. Onychinusa seemed disquieted to be boxed in, and she disliked the close confines of the cave

“I am beginning to think that the Lord Erlebnis sent you here not because he was ignorant... but because he was unignorant,” Anneliese began, her mind absolutely focused on the ancient elven woman.

Onychinusa slowly turned her head and focused on Anneliese. “Do you mean... the Lord knew I would end up here?”

“It seems he seldom acts on chance, but on knowledge,” Anneliese continued. “If he had Altan under his thumb, a myriarch just as Batbayar... he surely had more information about this place than we were led to believe,” she suggested.

Onychinusa was smart, and the words were plausible enough to bring her pause. Maybe there was even some truth to the words. But as things were, it teetered the scale a little over further as more weight was added. She could see the gears in Onychinusa’s head turning.

The cave floor sloped gently downwards before coming to a flat stretch and opening up. If Anneliese was right, this place was directly beneath where the mother dryad made her roots. They stepped into a simple place, no more than a cave... but the back of it was illuminated by light, around which half a dozen roots coiled. Most prominent was a thick root, splayed out flat against the wall. There was writing on it.

“I kept preserved a code your grandfather promulgated to all citizens of the empire,” the mother dryad explained. “It’s a code of laws. I ask that you learn it, as all citizens of the empire had to. Once you do... we will move on to the next step.”

The dryad walked away towards that glowing light, and Onychinusa came up to the large wooden root with writing etched into it. She ready through it quietly, but Anneliese was not content to let her be.

“Did you view Lord Erlebnis as your father?” Anneliese said, disgusted by her new use of the deferential ‘Lord’ even as she spoke it. Again, she wondered how Argrave acted out parts so easily.

“Of course not,” Onychinusa looked at her, speaking somewhat angrily. “I don’t... I didn’t have the luxury of such things. You just learned this.”

“And yet all that came before has changed,” Anneliese continued, coming to a stop. “The Lord never before allowed you to learn of your past... and yet now he sends you to the heart of it. The Lord never before allowed you to be free of solitude... and yet now he sends you before us, that we might work together closely.”

“What do you drive at?” Onychinusa looked at her, her face in disarray. “What do you seek to say?”

“I want to help you, Onychinusa,” Anneliese said, allowing her honesty to pool into her voice. “The Lord has made his move. Times change. To prove my point, let me ask you this-- the Lord’s breach... it has to be rather close to Kirel Qircassia’s, correct?”

“It’s in the North Sea,” she answered easily, rattled enough to let out vital information like that freely. “Off the coast.”

“Do you believe Kirel Qircassia will be content to let another gods’ realm exist so close to his? The Lord has a stronger presence than him, now, but that might not remain so forever.”

“They made a pact,” Onychinusa narrowed her eyes.

“And the Lord is always honorable in his contracts,” Anneliese nodded. “Argrave knows that, and I know this. In this way, the Lord Erlebnis’ actions are rather like those of Veidimen culture. At the same time... if the Lord can act ahead of time, before Kirel Qircassia fully manifests... that would be beneficial.

“All of this-- sending you here with us, giving you free reign... he cannot overtly command you to break faith. But you are the Lord’s mortal champion for a reason, Onychinusa. You can do as he cannot. If you should sow disunity, break this pact, the Lord can reap all of the rewards while estranging a dangerous future rival.”

“But I... I would’ve been...” Onychinusa began, narrowing her eyes and stepping to the wooden root with the code of laws etched in it.

“The Lord never breaks pacts. You know this. But you are not bound to the same universal laws that he is. Kirel Qircassia can break faith of his own accord... if you do as the Lord bids. Do you remember what I said?” Anneliese stepped closer, kneeling down before Onychinusa. “All a parent wants is for their children to live a certain way. And not because they’re told, but because they know what to do without being told.”

“I... would be told,” Onychinusa disagreed. “I would be ordered. I should always ask, before I... act...”

“Ask, but you will not be told. You are that which can make the Lord whole,” Anneliese said insistently. “He cares for you, in his own way. He sent you here with us. He broke your long solitude, and broke the long silence of your heritage. He never breaks a contract. But you are not the Lord... and that is what he needs. He needs one that does not need to be told. You are not alone anymore. And if you do this, you will never be alone anymore.”

Anneliese was experiencing all Onychinusa felt so intensely she almost felt like falling over. One thousand years of solitude, raised in an inhuman place by unfeeling things... one thousand years of learning without end, striving without knowing for what... one thousand years of asking ‘why’ without ever receiving an answer. Anneliese could feel it all like she’d been through it. All of it culminated to this moment, and Anneliese stepped inside. The words that came felt like they’d been pried directly from Onychinusa’s mind, and Anneliese spoke them firmly.

“You must have a purpose, Onychinusa... and if not this, then what?”

Onychinusa’s eyes widened, and she looked down the ground in mute silence. That was her being-- she was someone who did not know her purpose, yet desperately wished to find one. Anneliese saw it, exposed it, and formed a resonance.

But perhaps it was not without a cost. Anneliese felt completely exhausted, and could think of no more words as she stepped away from the ancient elf. She could hardly think at all. Her brain felt heavy, and the next while was a blur. When she finally had faculty enough to think again, Onychinusa already walked away from the code of laws, its contents memorized.

“Then... I know the laws of a citizen of the empire,” Onychinusa said, her voice hollow. “What of my lineage?”

“It’s simple. All you must do is claim ownership of me. And that can be done with my heart,” the dryad explained. “From there... from there, I can do the rest, if you allow it. I can tell you where your crown waits... everything.”

“Alright,” Onychinusa nodded, her voice trembling and alive. As Anneliese watched, she and the dryad walked towards the glowing light wrapped in roots. The wood unraveled, revealing a brighter brilliance emanating from a heart of thorns. She reached her hand out... and touched it.

The white light was enshrouded, almost as if tamed... and then spread out once more redoubled, projecting a deep imperial purple.

“Then... master,” the dryad kneeled, lowering her head until her black hair touched the cave’s floor. “Would you ask anything of me? And if not, may I be so bold as to ask permission of you?”

#####

Argrave sat reading the book of [Requite], giving Batbayar ample time to think. He was glad the book was C-rank, but looking upon its matrix hovering in the air he felt this book would gather more dust in his hands than it had in that millennia-old library. Orion sat at his side, still mulling over his temper.

Then, something shook, and Argrave started. Orion already stood and surveyed the area, ready to pounce upon any foes. Argrave looked around frantically, at a loss. When he spotted movement in a distant corner of his eye, he focused his gaze, walking towards it.

Argrave came to the pit that the mandragora rested in. He thought the creature might have met its end, but as he observed... no, it was the top of the pit that was moving. Earth was falling away as if in a landslide. It seemed almost like the earth itself was splitting in some natural disaster. That, though, brought back memories of what had brought him to this place to begin with. And with that thought... he saw what truly moved.

The thick redwood roots, marring every bit of the forest, moved into motion once again. They craned backwards sluggishly, like people reawakened after a deep sleep... but they moved all the same. And though they did stir the earth further, it was simply a natural result of retraction, of a reversion to mean.

Argrave started to laugh when he saw this, putting the pieces together. She did it, Argrave realized. She made that old lady bend. How in the hell did Anneliese pull that off? His Brumesingers descended from his coat, racing about the trees and everywhere else in exuberance. Argrave joined then, too, pumping his fist and cheering.

Soon enough, Batbayar ran upon them in confusion and panic. “Is this it? Is this what you were talking about?” He caught his breath, his eyes looking every which way as he absorbed the scene into his eyes.

“What’d I tell you?” Argrave put his hand on his shoulder, leaning upon the shorter man. “You’re gonna see green leaves, a nice clean forest floor without roots...because everything is just as I said,” he smiled slyly. “Aren’t we reliable?”

Batbayar watched intently, then said, “...I’m going to go check outside this forest.”

Argrave watched him leave in a run, then called out after him, “You can thank me anytime!”

With those words, Argrave turned and sat back to watch the beauty of this event. He felt pride in Anneliese and relief in equal measure, dueling against each other in a reprieve to the misery of days past.

“I’m a lucky man,” Argrave said.

“Do you believe that?” Orion asked in surprise.

“Ever hear the term, ‘better half?’” Argrave questioned. “Well... I’ve got a way better half. And I’m definitely not complaining. Feels pretty damned good, you want to know the truth.”

Orion narrowed his eyes, then nodded slowly in agreement. After a few minutes, Argrave turned when he heard footsteps behind. They were returning. He wanted to run up and tackle Anneliese in a hug, but he had to keep up with the act.

“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, almost demandingly. It was difficult to hide a smile.

“I did what the Lord needed,” Onychinusa said simply, her voice trembling in excitement and nervousness.

“The forest will be healed... and my children have been given leave to grow,” the dryad explained.

Argrave exhaled until he was breathless, beholding the three of them. When he looked at Anneliese, she looked... off.

“Argrave,” she began when they met eyes. “I learned something down there. Might we.. talk? In private,” she said, walking to him and holding her hand out.

Argrave took her hand slowly. “Sure,” he agreed hesitantly. Onychinusa seemed to look at him in pity, but it was soon washed away as she pranced about nervously, trying to contain herself.

Anneliese led him off quickly, and Argrave kept his stride long to keep pace with her. Argrave’s Brumesingers ran as fast as they could to keep up, and even they were a little short. Once they were out of view of everyone...

Anneliese wrapped her arms around his back. Argrave laughed and put his hand atop her head, thinking nothing was off. Then, when he saw her shoulders shake, and heard the muffled sobs, he panicked.

“Woah, woah, hey...” he began, rubbing her back in abject confusion. “What’s wrong? Did something go wrong?”

“It’s just... it was too much,” Anneliese explained in jittery speech muffled by his duster. “I went too far. I went too deep,” she explained, her frayed tone breaking Argrave’s heart. “Just give me a moment. Please,” she pleaded.

“As long as you want,” Argrave agreed at once, looking off into the forest as Anneliese cried. She had never before been like this, and so it concerned him more than he knew how to handle. A question persisted in his mind, but it was for later.

What did she do to make this happen?