Jackal Among Snakes

He’d been given a glimpse of the purpose of the Hopeful truly was when his mind had been consumed by the thing. The master of the Shadowlands wasn’t a subordinate of the Heralds—he was an equal, perhaps something even beyond that. He certainly wasn’t a simple tool or slave, and nor were the Shadowlands something insignificant to the larger scheme of things. It might be said the Hopeful was at the crux of it all.

But the Heralds… their name was literal. They heralded something else—a massive change, a shift of the paradigm. The Hopeful actually knew what that change was, expected it… hoped for it, like nothing else. His anticipation of the ecstasy he’d experience in the coming change was so strong his face was permanently warped like that in voluntary enthusiasm. It was a disturbing show of faith.

Argrave had always suspected—been outright told, even—that this entire cycle was in service of something else. Confirming that suspicion did nothing to make him pause or arouse his curiosity.

With his thoughts slowing, he looked at Sophia. She looked totally exhausted. He put his hand on her head and she flinched, woken up from near-sleep.

“You did good, Sophia. You’re doing great.” He shakily rose to his feet. “Let’s get going.”

He trudged along up the sand, heading for the parliamentary hall where his sister and Anneliese would be struggling valiantly against what they were up against. Sophia tried to follow along, but she stumbled from fatigue a few times. Argrave picked her up and walked along.

“I can walk,” Sophia said quietly.

“You can,” he answered back, but didn’t put her down.

With that, nothing more needed to be said. Within Blackgard, the only evidence of the raging battle against Gerechtigkeit was the sight of it looming above in flashes of light. The city sounded serene, undisturbed. The Domain of Order Argrave had imposed using Law’s blessing still persisted, keeping the peace. Everyone was either inside their home, or had sought refuge in the various shelters they’d established.

At some point, Sophia fell asleep as Argrave steadily walked through the silent city. It was a steeling reminder to witness the beautiful city he’d helped flourished—a still image of one little picture comprising the larger one. When he finally arrived at the parliamentary hall, he saw Anneliese and Raven leaving.

“Argrave,” Anneliese called out, rushing up to greet him. “I was just about to come for you. You’re well? At least… well enough?”

“Stiff,” he said, then added, “I’m sure it’ll pass.”

“Law’s been holding his own against Gerechtigkeit, stalling,” she said in some small relief. “But it seems like nothing we do can cause significant damage to Gerechtigkeit. We’d intended to go to Hause, now.”

“Time for her to make good on her word,” Raven shook his head. “If she hadn’t been so foolishly cautious, all of this might’ve been avoided.”

“It might do nothing,” Anneliese countered.

“And it might do everything,” he answered back just as firmly.

Anneliese looked up. “Whatever the case, the situation has stabilized. The longer it stretches on, though, the more powerful he’ll get. We’re losing ground second by second. The Great Chu… I can’t even think about it.”

“No time to waste, then,” Argrave muttered beneath his breath. “Where are we going?”

“I’d intended to study you for insight on that wound.” Raven looked up to the sky—south toward Jast, where that great crack in reality persisted, visible even when one’s eyes were closed. “But you had to go and die, removing any trace it might’ve left on your body. Now you’re useless to me.”

“What, then?” Argrave pressed.

“We go to Hause,” Anneliese outlined. “We see what she can do for us. Raven, meanwhile…”

Raven ground his huge obsidian staff into the ground. “I’ve been considering taking the role I’d cast aside.”

Argrave’s face grew serious. “You’re needed,” he said simply. “Not as you were, but as you are.”

“We’re losing.” Raven walked closer to Argrave, and though his figure had become more human-like, the fact remained he towered over him. “If what Hause gives us is insufficient, we will lose. The Smiling Raven may help us win. That sun you made—it harbors people’s souls. Potentiation may not even pose any risk to me anymore. Their minds may not overrun my own.” ŗＡоΕṠ

“You don’t know that,” Argrave argued. “And besides, Lorena said the lunar dragons could do what you do as well—and if that’s true, potentiation poses no risk for them, either. We don’t need to risk losing you to that creature.”

“I’ll play my role—I’ll help discover how to hunt Gerechtigkeit where he truly lives. After, though… unless I have confidence of our victory, I’ll do what I deem necessary.”

“Raven…!” Argrave stepped forward.

“That’s my decision,” he said. Then, he turned and walked away, fading into the silent city before Argrave could say another word.

“I think he’s right to say as much.” Anneliese’s words made Argrave look at her pointedly. “Instead of arguing, let’s prove his worries unfounded. Hause awaits.”

Argrave laughed lightly and hollowly. “Yeah. I’ll… we’ll just make him look stupid, instead. All that fretting he did over nothing.”

#####

Argrave and Anneliese stood in the room alone with Hause. Sophia slept in another room not far from here. As much as Argrave would’ve liked to let her sleep as long as she liked, she might need to be quickly called upon to remedy the situation should their potentials unlocking cause more harm than good.

“It seems the day has finally come,” Hause said, a swell of unease and anticipation in her tone.

The goddess of potential fiddled with her hands as she looked between them. Even Argrave could tell there was a trace of guilt in the way she carried herself—like she expected reprimand from them, or perhaps she more simply knew the sheer scale of the devastation that’d been caused. Argrave was in no mood to cast the blame. This situation had been beyond them all.

“Shall we start? I mean, what do we actually do?” Argrave looked between Hause and Anneliese.

“Before I do, I’ll give one last warning.” Hause looked between them. “I know, perhaps, you are tired of my caution, but I won’t budge on this point. Argrave embodies judgment—and you, eternity.” Her face grew stern, and he clasped her hands together firmly. “It’s rare enough to find someone with innate potential at all. It’s ever rarer for my senses to be so very… vague.

“You could become something you aren’t,” Hause continued. “Given that it’s related to judgment, for example, Argrave might possess a power akin to Gerechtigkeit’s. Perhaps his mentality will change to better suit that ideal. I cannot honestly say what awaits him.”

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Anneliese looked at Argrave, asking a silent question. He deliberated for a time, then nodded.

“The cycle of judgment is just a name, it’s not what he is. Gerechtigkeit—Griffin—is someone who’s been beaten down by the world, made into something monstrous after being used and abused. He can’t claim the role of judge, no matter how much he proclaims it.” Argrave glanced at Anneliese, seeking some support in his claims. “I think true judgment might be what we need.”

“I’ll concede that,” Hause nodded. “But you, Anneliese. Eternity is a frightening concept. You may become something that you cannot recognize—cannot conceive of. It may be as much a trap as it is something grandly useful.”

“I understand your point. Those words of caution are something that I, myself, have long pondered. I understand what Raven has been through, and more importantly the emotions that you feel warning me.” She paused, revisiting those debates she must’ve had with herself. “Nevertheless, it’s simply poor strategy to leave some weapons unused when the final day might’ve come. And should this be something that harms rather than hinders, Sophia has become extremely adroit at using her ability.”

“We appreciate the focus on informed consent, but we’re ready,” Argrave added.

“Very well then.” Hause closed her eyes, and then took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. “Anneliese first, then. Am I right in predicting so?”

Argrave was hesitant, but he knew it was logically sound—he could better protect all present from unpredictable results with his blood magic. With an encouraging nod from Anneliese, he eventually assented.

Hause straightened her back, standing with clasped hands as if in prayer. “Then… please remain still.”

A spectral golden form emerged from Hause. When it did, her blonde hair lost all of its luster, aging and going gray immediately. Indeed, her whole form took on a husk-like appearance that was rather jarring. This golden form opened its eyes, shining a light upon Anneliese. The queen of Vasquer remained deathly still as had been instructed, and that golden form bridged the gap.

Argrave saw it reach out toward Anneliese… and the moment the fingers of that spectral form met Anneliese’s body, Argrave could feel a shift in the air. With it came a breath of spring… and a surge of shifting power.

#####

The moment that Hause’s golden form brushed against Anneliese’s body, something rather inexplicable took place. It was as though she, too, was divested of her body, and together they soared through a universe of endless possibilities. In brief flashes, she saw a myriad routes her life could’ve taken, and branching roads her life had yet to come to. It was impossible to comprehend, but it still fascinated her endlessly. She saw traces of people left unmet, friends left unmade, lovers left unknown.

Anneliese felt curious, but only that—she had no desire to live any other life than the one she presently travelled.

In time, they came to float adrift in an infinite world. Anneliese looked around, taking in the frozen fragments of the many lives she could’ve lived and those she might yet live. Those in the future were vague, in constant flux with every movement she made. Those of past choices were gray fragments, dead and discarded. She saw her own death in many, saw her leading hosts of Veidimen, saw her expressing affection for people she’d never even seen before.

“Here we are,” said Hause. Her voice carried with it the whisper of similar phrases—all the things she could’ve said, from ‘we’re here,’ to ‘this is the end.’ It was headache-inducing, hearing all outcomes.

“Is it always like this?” Anneliese asked, hearing her own question rephrased in myriad ways throughout this void.

“It’s seldom this intense,” Hause admitted. “Not even Raven saw such clear echoes of the past, nor the vaguest hints of the future. It means the totality of what you can achieve is heavy. Do you see it?”

Anneliese searched for what Hause prompted her to, finding nothing. It was only when she looked up that it came into sight. With the [Truesight] bestowed by Yinther, her eyes began to shake and burn as she witnessed something of such power that the truth threatened to break her mind. She lowered her head at once, panting heavily.

“…and that’s rather what I feared,” Hause said, kneeling beside Anneliese and consoling her. “What did you see?”

Anneliese swallowed, and yet in this realm of potential saw spectral forms of herself take half a thousand different actions to calm her pumping heart. In other realities, her heart wasn’t beating fast at all, or the sight had affected her so severely she broke out into a sweat. It all become so overwhelming it was difficult to discern which was entirely real.

“I saw a power that was…”

The words ‘equal’ and ‘superior’ danced out in the void, reflecting her uncertainty.

“I saw a power at least equal to the one Sophia carries,” Anneliese said. “Yet… raw. Untapped. Untamed. Unused.”

“You saw eternity.” Hause looked up. Even only seeing the reflection in Hause’s eyes, Anneliese’s vision stung. “There’s no denying that it’s a force equal to that of creation and destruction. Forever. Infinity. Always. Never shrinking, always expanding. That which always has been, and always will be. It’s no wonder that you perceive it so intensely. Fundamentally, it’s a force outside of the cycle of judgment that Gerechtigkeit and Sophia are forced to perpetuate.”

Anneliese decided to stop using [Truesight] altogether and looked upward toward where Hause looked. What she saw defied her preconceptions of reality—new colors, new dimensions, new sounds and new ways of being. It was everything all at once, existing forever and never existing in the same breath. Even if she wanted to describe to others the things she saw, she lacked the words to do so. She’d need to make new words entirely.

“Did Sophia and Griffin grasp something like this?” Anneliese questioned. “Were they exposed to the forces of creation, of destruction? Did they claim it?”

“You ask me questions I don’t have the answer to,” Hause said. “Lest you forget, I am a mere vessel for this power. What I do, I barely understand. But… yes.” Hause peered into eternity. “Seeing this, there is little doubt in my mind they must’ve interacted with a primordial force not dissimilar to this one. But whether they claimed it, or whether it was implanted within them by something like the Heralds… I cannot know.”

Anneliese felt a shudder as she tried to imagine bearing that eternity within her body. Nevertheless, they’d come here… and it seemed that would be the inevitable outcome.

“What do we do now?” Anneliese asked, afraid and excited in equal measure.

“Now… I finish the task,” Hause said, reaching back out toward Anneliese.

Anneliese floated adrift in the cosmos, awaiting what came next with bated breath. When Hause’s golden form touched her cheek, there was a stir in the air. Anneliese closed her eyes and waited for this power to be vested in her.

Then, as it had been before, they began to travel through that corridor of eventualities. Anneliese saw a million, a billion, a trillion futures regarding her and Hause’s actions. They flowed against the sheer might of eternity, probing and searching for purchase in its vastness. Eventually, however, the corridor began to flow so quickly, and trillions became quadrillions, quintillions, sextillions, the rate of branching futures expanding exponentially until…

Hause screamed “AAAAA—”

Then, nothing but the echo from the scream persisted. Anneliese found herself adrift in this expanse of futures, motionless amidst nothingness.

“Hause?” Anneliese called out.

No answer.

“Hause?!” Anneliese shouted louder.

Silence.

Anneliese turned her body about, searching for answers. She looked up… and just above, inches from her face…

Eternity watched.

#####

Hause crashed back to the floor, and upon seeing that Argrave leapt to action. He came to crouch just beside her.

“The hell?” Argrave demanded. “Are you alright?”

“It was too much,” Hause said, panting. Her figure stayed old and wizened, not at all reverting back to what it was. “It was just too much. It was too large to comprehend, too big to hold. I couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t comprehend it. Trying to tame it…” Hause laughed. “Folly. Pure folly. That thing is beyond any god.”

Argrave rose to his feet, looking toward Anneliese. She stayed sitting in the chair, slumped. Her eyes were closed. Argrave shook her leg, but received no response.

“Don’t move her,” Hause urged. “She might come back on her own.”

“Might?” Argrave repeated. When he received no answer, he shouted, “Might?!”

“I don’t know!” Hause answered, panicked. “We… we went a long way out. I’m… I’m not even sure where it took us. Perhaps she can find her way home—perhaps. If not… I can bring her back.”

“Then do it,” Argrave commanded, gesturing. “Stop jerking me around. This is Anneliese we’re talking about.”

“My power…” Hause exhaled, putting a hand to her chest. “The reason I was returned is because my power ran out. It’ll need time to rebuild, recharge.”

Argrave looked at Anneliese, in total worry. “How long?”

“Like I said, she might make it back on her own. If not… it’ll take me days. Maybe… maybe weeks.” Hause leaned up against the wall, out of breath.

Argrave nodded, trying to act like he wasn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Then, it’s fine. Yeah, it’s fine. She’ll be back. She’ll be back any second now. Why? Because it’s Anneliese.”