Jackal Among Snakes

Lorena had become the diligent watchdog of the world, and she relished that task. To employ the omniscience the Heralds had so abused in her time toward thwarting them; no revenge could be sweeter, no role more satisfying. The fight had been a little dodgy at first, but the arrival of unexpected allies had turned the tide and she’d been pleased to see Jaray’s efforts unravel.

Lorena had neglected to consider, however, that the god of politics would play all sides.

The lull in the fighting had been but a prelude to an unimaginable resurgence. They’d thought that, when the tide retreated, it signified the end of the turbulent waves. But however far the tide retreats, it comes back twice as strong. That metaphor held true here as all of their opposition converged at one point: Berendar.

Argrave had slain scores of undead in preparation for this day, but for every one he'd given a true death was another that now walked up out of the sea. Rotten leviathans rose from the ocean, led by golden knights akin to Lindon’s silver knighted form. Marching alongside them were the few automatons that they'd failed to disable from distant continents. Giants of dead flesh, processed metal, and broken will slammed against their battered defenses, and already some coastal cities began to falter.

And all of this neglected to include the presence of Gerechtigkeit. Even with Argrave’s desperate struggle against the tide, the city of Jast had already been entirely lost. The golems hunted down evacuating inhabitants like boars herded by hunters. Even S-rank spellcasters couldn’t hold their own against these creatures for long. This embryotic tissue was but a prelude to the true power Gerechtigkeit could exert—the power to end the world.

She reported all she could to Elenore, trying to lose herself in the monotony of the task to distract herself from the hopelessness of the situation. They’d been caught off-balance, and though Anneliese was intelligent and resourceful, Lorena had doubts about her ability to rally a force capable of fighting back against the calamity that had come weeks early.

“Mother!”

Lorena broke her connection with the moon beneath her body and opened her eyes to see her daughter standing before her in humanoid form. She had designed her form in the likeness of Anneliese—they were very similar, barring her draconic markers and red hair. Her daughter kept a very close eye on the happenings of the surface, watching through their connection to the moon. All of the dragons did, these days. How could they not?

“Return,” Lorena responded, speaking in the draconic tongue. She maintained her ordinary form. “I cannot be distracted for even a moment.”

“I won’t,” her daughter answered, staring up at her towering dragon form without flinching. “I’ve spoken to all of the others. Six hundred of us are prepared to depart to the surface.”

“What?!” Lorena slammed her tail against the ground of the temple she rested within. “You’d die! All of you would.”

“As do millions as we do nothing!” Her daughter protested passionately. “You’ve taken a stand, mother. Sophia is down there—we can be fixed. We can be adapted to the world we came from and walk upon it freely once again.”

Lorena’s nostrils flared, and fire and smoke billowed around her snout. She’d kept a diligent eye on the world, and in so doing, lost track of what took place within her own home. The idea of losing her daughter frightened her beyond compare.

“Even if it came to be that we were permitted to exist on the surface once more, none of you have seen battle. I would not have you fight against the most potent enemy in the world as your first conflict.” Lorena slammed one mighty arm against the ground and rose imposingly. “I will not allow it.”

“We’re going,” her daughter said defiantly, matching her mother’s fire with a flame of her own. “And you can’t stop us. Whether we should die while making the journey, or be saved by Sophia upon our arrival… that is solely up to you. You can be our leader, or you can be my mother. We can all see which is needed most at present. Myself most of all.”

Lorena’s claws dug into the floor of the temple until the rock beneath her turned to dust, and fires of anger rose from her nostrils as she watched her daughter… until, begrudgingly, her body loosened.

“You are naïve and frustrating.” Lorena let out a smoky sigh. “But I will inform them of your coming, and when the time comes… lead at the helm.”

“And will you introduce me to father?” She smiled happily, like she’d been given a gift from her parent rather than approval to go off to war. “Don’t worry—I’ll keep up the secret!”

“Be serious, girl!” Lorena slammed her tail again. “And leave me. I must keep watch.”

#####

“The lunar dragons?” Anneliese exhaled in awe, but continued to speak to Elenore in her head. “That’s a blessing. But Sophia is unprepared to adapt them to this world. Raven says the toll using her power is taking on her should fade, but… I’ll be ready for any occurrence.”

Anneliese ended the mental communication. Elenore was ably communicating using Ail, god of couriers. Despite the internecine warfare breeding enmity among the remaining deities that’d taken Jaray’s side, the Bat remained an ever-persuasive figure. They won more and more allies by the second to fight against the rampaging hordes Gerechtigkeit invoked. These allies of convenience still found death at Argrave’s hand unideal, but if Gerechtigkeit won the world ended. The calamity’s defeat took precedence, and Elenore could convince most of the traitorous bastards of that.

Anneliese’s role was to be leadership, but until the time came for her to actually lead them into battle, she focused on acquiring more… unorthodox… forces.

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Anneliese focused back on the Manumitter, who wore the shell of Good King Norman fashioned from Shadowlander flesh. That form had once been host to the horrifying mind of Traugott, but now he’d taken the name of Guy and wore a tremendous amount of brown coverings to hide his Shadowlander-esque body. He now supported their cause full-heartedly—and of yet, there had been no variation to that.

Still, trust wasn’t enough with the world in the balance. Raven had planted a mark on him of the same kind on Durran. With a thought, Raven could obliterate the man who’d once been Traugott—a harsh measure, but one that ensured compliance. They could brook no disobedience. Mercy could come when the world was improved enough to permit it. Guy was ignorant of this mark, but even despite that, he’d been extremely helpful. He was shaping up to be an infinitely more moral person than Traugott had been. So long as he remained so… they would have no problem.

“She’s on the other side,” Guy informed her. “When I open it, she’ll walk through.”

“No time to hesitate,” Anneliese declared, getting a safe distance away. Sophia stirred in her grip, writhing from an intense headache and fatigue both. “Breach the Shadowlands. Let’s see if the seed we’ve sown bore fruit.”

Guy sliced his hand down through the air, and from it, a portal took shape. A few moments after, like stepping out of parchment into a third dimension, the white-haired revolutionary woman that they’d fought in the Shadowlands walked out. At once, the air seemed to shift. Her hunger began to eat away at all sensations in this world—a proper signal that the Shadowlanders still didn’t belong here on this realm.

“No time for courtesies,” Anneliese said firmly. “We have reason to believe—”

“Yes,” interrupted the woman. “We’ll fight the Hopeful here, should he arrive, and Gerechtigkeit after that.” She bowed her head. “It’s been a while, Anneliese.”

Anneliese shifted on her feet uneasily—she was almost unnerved by how readily she agreed, and her suspicion flared. “Why?”

“Those people you left behind,” the woman continued. “They guided us ably. We earned victory after victory against the Hopeful, enlarging our ranks. When the time came, and they found themselves withering away… we offered to inherit their memories, consuming those legendary heroes with our hunger.” She raised a hand. “About half of them agreed. I’m the product of their sacrifice… and the heir to their memories. I will fight for the land that was theirs, and for the people that are mine.” Her eyes wandered to Sophia, who was protected by some of the most powerful people in the world. “And I know that girl may well be the key to eliminating our hunger.”

Anneliese grew protective at once—she was uncomfortable at the Shadowlanders, of all people, knowing the value Sophia held. In the Shadowlands, the Hopeful had eaten one of Argrave’s memories—now, it seemed this woman had done the same for the heroes of old they’d left behind. It sounded like good news, yet in Anneliese’s experience, things seldom went as she hoped. Could this time be believed? Had they done a good deed that would simply be repaid?

“We’ll maintain our strength for the final push,” the revolutionary continued. “The Hopeful will be doing the same thing. He is the single last agent for the Heralds in the world—he’ll attempt to appear at the most opportune time, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.”

“Yet you’re needed now,” Anneliese argued. “Our cities are dying. Jast has already fallen, and Mateth is being pushed to the breaking point. Even Blackgard is under assault.”

“I made that assessment having inherited a dozen of the best strategic minds of your world,” the woman said, maintaining her calm demeanor that was rather unlike the brash, berserker tendency she’d exhibited the last time they’d met—evidence that she’d changed, or that she was lying. “The Hopeful will attack later. We will be prepared. Only after we win would we would ask that Sophia be employed toward curing our hunger.”

Anneliese looked back at Argrave, fighting even now in the heart of the calamity. She didn’t need to ask him to know what Argrave would do.

“We’ll be relying on you.” Anneliese turned back. “Guy will come with you. He’s connected with Elenore, and can keep open lines of communication.”

Guy nodded determinedly—he knew his role, and accepted it proudly. She could detect no deception.

“That’s very trusting,” the woman answered. “And very helpful. If we can breach the Shadowlands wherever we please, we’ll be better able to respond to the Hopeful. I appreciate it. When we’ve earned victory, we’ll be relying on Sophia. That hope will spur us forward.”

Anneliese gave a nod, choosing not to mention the mark Raven had given Guy. The revolutionary said no more, fading back into the portal of Guy’s creation. He soon followed after her—and like that, the opening to the Shadowlands shut.

“We’ve done as much we could,” Elenore said, evidently watching this meeting. “I can’t honestly say whether or not we can rely on them, but if we can… it’ll be tremendous. Raccomen has repaired his portal south of the Tower of the Gray Owl—well, the land where the tower used to be, before it fell. Gods are flooding in to southern Vasquer—they’ll be coming as reinforcements soon enough.”

“I’ll receive them,” Anneliese answered. “Anything else?”

“Mundi has become unlivable,” Elenore disclosed. “The dwarves are evacuating it, with help from Dario and Melanie. Everywhere else is in similarly dire straits, but Blackgard is… it’s holding. The improvements we made to the defenses are doing wonders, but I fear what happens when Gerechtigkeit coalesces.”

Anneliese looked north, watching Argrave’s tremendous fight at the heart of the conflict. The deluge of misery he faced had only grown while she’d rallied what forces she could. The wound had widened, and the sludge-like embryotic tissue had waxed while Argrave’s struggle against it remained the same size. His brilliant ruby of resistance seemed buried by the haze of what was to come.

“And Hause?” Anneliese questioned.

“She’s ready,” said Elenore. “She’ll bring forth our potential. Provided you and Argrave can make it, she’ll help us. But the outside of Blackgard… those calamitous golems are everywhere. Without the recreation of the defenses of the Palace of Heaven, I’d probably be dead right alongside this whole city. None of us can leave, and I’m not certain it’s worth the risk to try and tempt that. We don’t even know what Hause could do for us.”

“Nor does Gerechtigkeit,” Anneliese pointed out. “I understand your point. But having seen Raven, Mina, or Vasilisa, and how they’ve changed…. my instinct tells me that Hause’s power may win us the day.”

“I trust you,” Elenore said simply. “The only who could say they trust you more than me is the man you’re staring at, now.”

Anneliese watched Argrave, running through all he’d told her to prepare her for this day—the countless things he knew about Gerechtigkeit, the location the battle was to take place, or the servants he’d call upon to win this feet. Argrave had always intended for her to lead their forces against Gerechtigkeit, when this day came.

For their sake, Anneliese wouldn’t disappoint him.

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