Jackal Among Snakes

It was understandable they cast glances at their old friend. Raven had changed, substantially. Lorena insisted on helping him improve his self-image. Among her people, a monstrous and decaying body was the sign of a deteriorated mental state. She thought it would be best for him if his image returned to as he’d been before—and he had, in large part. His form was always somewhat in flux, but he retained the image of the ashen-haired human that Argrave had seen only in memories.

“My ability is not as precise as you believe it to be,” Hause argued. “Anyone who goes through the process will come out of the other end changed. This could affect more than physical or mystical strength alone—it could fundamentally alter the nature of a person. And it may not even change the person in a way that will help you and yours in the fighting.”

“But it certainly could. As to the changes you speak of… even I retained my reason, my mental acuity, until I made the mistake of employing my power of potentiation on another,” Raven argued, standing in the corner of the room. “That was what broke me. Not your power. It wasn’t your mistake.”

“He’s right. Come on.” Argrave put both of his arms on the table between them. “You had to have done this with other people before Raven. Not every use of your ability ended up backfiring, didn’t it?”

“Even before that, it was enough that my goddess exercised discretion,” Sonia cut in. “She would come to know a person’s character very well before ever allowing them to realize their dormant potential.”

“And she has learned our people well!” Argrave leaned back in the chair, holding his arms wide. “Not too long ago, I had the opportunity to bring the whole world under my thrall. It might have been considered the pragmatic thing to do. Instead, I turned my nose up at it, and I did what I felt was the most moral thing. I can give you dossiers full of good deeds that my companions have done, too.”

Anneliese placed both her hands on the table gently. “You face death on the end of either choice, Hause. Either you will lament the fact that you helped someone realize their innate talent, because they cost lives… or you will regret the fact that you did not, because Gerechtigkeit came in greater force than we anticipated and killed countless of our people.”

Before she could respond, Argrave pushed the attack. “I’m going to be blunt with you, because you’ve been a constant stabilizing force in Blackgard that I’ve come to respect and appreciate.” Argrave scooted his chair closer to the table and Anneliese. “I have reason to believe that divinity itself will cease to be once we break the cycle of judgment. The things that you’re scared of… all of your fears could become irrelevant. In a few months, when I’ve inevitably won, all divinity might cease to exist entirely.”

Goddess and acolyte had diverging reactions.

“Is that true?” Sonia asked loudly, leaning in.

The goddess herself, meanwhile, said with muted surprise, “So the rumors were true.”

Argrave nodded, answering the both of them at once.

“I have no issue surrendering my divinity, Sonia,” the goddess said, placing her hand upon the acolyte’s. “Could anyone protest at having lived thousands of years, with unimaginable power at their fingertips? Some might say such a thing is already too much for one person. That is no issue to me. In fact, it almost sounds peaceful.”

“Death isn’t certain,” Raven added. “Perhaps you would simply become what you were again. Or perhaps you would wither into nothingness as you are. Either way, divinity is near as unconscionable as Gerechtigkeit himself. Its end would be a positive, not a negative. Gods are merely another terrible facet of the cycle of judgment. There’s a reason why the Shadowlands are filled with dead gods, and a reason why the Hopeful listens to the Heralds’ words yet. They are a part of this—and they must end.”

No one could rebuke his words because Raven stood to lose just as much as Hause did. If divinity disappeared, so did his ability to potentiate, to shift his flesh.

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“All of you make quite the persuasive argument…” Hause closed her eyes, adjusting her pink gown. “I… am beginning to see that I may be overcautious, when such odds face us. Had I been less cautious in the past, perhaps fewer lives might’ve been lost in the battle against the silver knight. Or, those thousand other battles held before it. Though, perhaps not. I lacked a certain stabilizing element we now possess.”

“Could you elaborate on what you mean?” Anneliese pressed.

Hause let out a long sigh, glancing at Sonia before facing Argrave once more. “You are powerful, Argrave. You and Anneliese alone could match gods—perhaps even Law, though I don’t suggest you tempt fate by doing so. This is why I cannot yet agree with unlocking your potential. With particular emphasis on ‘yet,’ I stress.”

“I think there’s a but that turns that sour statement into something sweet,” Argrave noted. “Am I right?”

“I am willing to do so for those that serve beneath you,” Hause gestured. “This is because you, or the other gods, could serve as a check for their unlocked power if it turns out to be beyond their ken.”

“Hmm.” Argrave cradled his chin. “So, long-term, you would be willing to use your power on Anneliese and I, but short-term, you’d like to do some trials on my subordinates?”

“When you call it a trial, it sounds somewhat nefarious. But yes, that’s the truth in my words.” She shook her head. “Your queen is right in saying that death may lie at the end of both roads—inaction or action. This cautious foray into lands unseen, I think, is a compromise I’m willing to take.”

Argrave nodded. Hause’s ability, much like the Fruits of Being, was something that was unpredictable in what it could truly achieve. It had been responsible for the total eradication of an entire continent. That power could appear again, and be harnessed toward greater ends. He certainly hoped that would be the case.

“What do you think will honestly happen?” Argrave asked. “I mean… is everyone going to get a power like Raven’s?”

“No, not a chance,” Hause said with a certain conviction. “Raven was born innately capable of what he became. I drew it out of him, but in the end, he wasn’t fundamentally altered. As a matter of fact, my fears about you may be unfounded. Your dormant potential could amount to nothing more than a base trick. I doubt it, but it’s possible.”

“Why do you doubt it?” Argrave asked.

“It can’t be a coincidence that you, who’ve come so close to dismantling the cycle of judgment, bear a potential I perceive as being related to judgment.” Hause crossed her arms. “My power is the closest thing to prophecy that’s ever existed. That’s why it concerns me. That’s why, of everyone, I least want to unlock yours.”

“But the potential exists,” Argrave said. “And you said that someone can realize it on their own.”

“Yes,” Hause confirmed. “For now, you have my assent. Bring me people you trust. Let me assess them myself. And if I think they’re worthy, I’ll help your allies realize their potential.”

“We can give you the first wave right now, I think,” Argrave said, casting a glance at Anneliese to get her confirmation. “Orion, Elenore, Galamon, Durran, Melanie…”

“Nikoletta, and perhaps the Parbons,” Anneliese contributed. “Elenore has praised their houses a fair bit for the handling of the various crises. If we’re seeking a good starting point, perhaps they would be it. The people we have are already capable, but we possess an abundance of good souls without power enough to be a substantive help. Perhaps that can change?”

“Good points.” Argrave nodded, then looked back to Hause. “We’ll work out a list, alright? An hour, no more than that.”

“That fast?” Hause said, but eventually gave her confirmation. “I’ll make no plans for today, then.”

#####

“If something’s clumped together…” Jaray said, peering over a map of the continent of Berendar. “Best to spread it out, spread it thin. Argrave’s shown a history of overextending in the face of crisis. He’d sooner put himself at risk than have those beneath him suffer casualties. In concert with what the Shadowlanders have planned… we should plan our own assault.”

His fingers wandered to various cities, tapping them.

“We’ll target major strategic centers,” he continued. “Relize. Mateth. Parbon. Dirracha. First Hope. Quadreign. Jast. Elbraille. Lasthold. The Tower of the Gray Owl. The mobile cities of the elves in the Bloodwoods. Even beneath them—the dwarves.” He looked around. “For those of you unwilling to risk yourself so much, we can also stage a major offensive throughout the Great Chu.”

“They’ll know we’re coming,” another god argued. “They’ll be prepared.”

“But they’ll be diverted from their central point—Blackgard.” Jaray raised a finger. “And we’ll still be gods.”

“It does seem the best way…” another god concurred. “But it doesn’t solve the root problem.”

“No one can plan for everything.” Jaray shook his head, leaning away from the map. “Not even Argrave, after all he’s done. He’s made as many powerful enemies as he has powerful friends. When the time comes, I’ll call in some favors.” He picked up his pipe, still casting smoke into the air. “Call in some strikers.”

“Who?” one asked.

“Let me worry about that.” He inhaled his pipe deeply. “Better that I alone know. Rest assured… I want to end him more than anyone. It’s the most convenient solution.”