Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave began to piece together his foe’s plans all at once only after he saw the fruit of his labor. Jaray hadn’t been betting on being able to rely on the Shadowlanders or any deities of the world. From the beginning, he hadn’t even intended to live their encounter if Argrave had indeed brought Sophia. He’d predicted his own death—and presumably, part of his deal with Gerechtigkeit was being resurrected by the power of Sophia’s creation. He went to his grave with total confidence he would soon crawl out of it, reborn… and even if Argrave proved otherwise, the god of politics wouldn’t exactly be around to despair at that fact.

Argrave had to admit that Jaray’s gambit had worked.

“Is this it?” Anneliese asked Argrave as all others around stared in frightful awe. “Is it happening?”

“Yes,” Argrave answered her, his words strangely calm as he set Sophia down on the ground. “It’s happening. Gerechtigkeit is here.”

The sky had an ever-widening black gash across its surface. It transcended everything, taking precedence before any other form of existence. Even if one were on the opposite side of the planet, they’d be able to see this wound as clear as day. It bypassed walls, floors, and any state of being to imprint itself on every living being’s sight. Even the blind could see it. The other senses were not spared this omnipresence.

Argrave could smell rot creeping into his nose, like they’d breached into a well of bloated corpses. He could barely hear guttural howls growing louder by the second, threatening to drown out the sound of the wind. He could faintly taste a tangy salt in his mouth, like he’d bitten his tongue and now tasted his own blood. And above all, there was a dreadful presence. It was like the feeling moments before a blow landed, or the instances before hitting the ground after jumping from a high place.

Argrave felt dread encapsulated. Just as his lungs drew in air, or his heart beat… instinctually, Argrave’s entire being feared what emerged from that wound.

Gerechtigkeit—of yet in embryonic form—poured down like black mud from the wound in the sky. Yellow eyes, glistening like beads of oil, danced on the surface of this ugly liquid. They scouted millions of victims for their coming onslaught. Each eye was a mind unto itself, though each with the purpose of serving Gerechtigkeit. They were both his servants and himself all at once. Before he fully manifested on this plane, those eyes would be his army. They were formless golems made of spite and destruction. Argrave had never before seen them so numerous, nor so large, at the very beginning of things. That black liquid would, in time, coalesce into the cosmic horror that was Gerechtigkeit… but even like this, its power couldn’t be underestimated.

“He’s here before his time,” Raven said, stepping ahead of Argrave. His flesh wavered in between his human form and that of the Alchemist. Even his ancient mind seemed stunned, wavering with indecision. “We’re unprepared.”

“Argrave, what the hell is this?!” Durran demanded, grasping his shoulder. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“No, but I can guess,” he answered. He pictured himself forcefully grabbing his heart, and the mental image alone was enough to calm its frenetic beating. “Jaray and Gerechtigkeit had some kind of shady backroom deal. How it worked, what it was—doesn’t seem to matter, now. But Gerechtigkeit is here weeks early. Sophia is outside of Blackgard. Meaning… they’ll be coming for us. Hard.”

“…I told you not to do this,” came Elenore’s voice, barely a whisper in his mind.

“It’s already done. Sophia is still safe,” he responded to her. “All the gods will’ve seen what’s happened. I need you to do what you can to convince them to switch sides. Use Ail, that god of couriers you mentioned might defect. Use every connection you have. The final test has come early.”

“I will,” she answered simply, as though nothing were amiss.

“You need to return immediately,” Durran continued, oblivious to Argrave’s conversation. “Teleport back, or—”

“Teleportation won’t work,” Onychinusa interrupted, joining the conversation with a serious, no-nonsense tenor that was rather unlike her. “Gerechtigkeit can intercept any shamanic magic—he isn’t limited, like deities. Attempting to go to Blackgard would only result in an immediate engagement with the heart of all his forces.”

Argrave perked his head up when she said that, but his brother-in-law spoke before he could.

“I could take Sophia,” Durran suggested. “Or we could use Raccomen. Or even that lunar dragon, what with her incredible speed—anything to get Sophia to safety, to head back to Blackgard.”

“All of those options are simply too risky,” Anneliese dismissed one-sidedly. “Blackgard is safest, yes, but they’ll know that. Every single being at Gerechtigkeit’s disposal will be coming out, all at once, in far grander displays of force that what we’ve experienced today. We can’t afford to overextend. We can’t afford any mistake.”

Silence fell over everyone as the dread terror continued to flow into this world. Argrave could practically feel the noose tightening around their necks, but going from one neck-and-neck battle into the final fight was so terrifying that they were all at a loss.

“Argrave… I… I can’t keep my head…” Sophia said, her quiet voice barely breaking the silence.

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Argrave finally broke his gaze away from that deluge of black, muddy liquid, pulsing with eyes as he looked down at Sophia. “Hey, hey…!” He knelt just in time to catch her as she lurched forward. “Sophia? Sophia, what are you feeling?!”

“I’m tired…” she continued.

“Her power of creation is being forcibly triggered,” Raven explained as he watched. “It’s exhausting her.”

“What?” Anneliese said, as much an exclamation of disbelief as a question. As her mind worked, the disbelief faded. “That explains a lot, actually. Jaray was the catalyst for all of this. Gerechtigkeit must’ve done something to his body. Trapped him, in essence. When she remade him…”

Argrave swore internally. If Sophia was reduced to this… it made things much more difficult for them. But even as this new problem emerged, he recognized the need for fast action. “Damn it all. Anneliese, I need you to take Sophia,” he instructed her. “I need you to keep her safe.” He handed the young girl off to his queen, then looked back toward the coming mayhem. “More than that—I need you to rally the world. I need you to finish dealing with what pockets of forces Jaray established alongside Elenore, and I need you to bring the whole of our forces to bear for a counteroffensive.”

“And what do you intend to do?” She questioned, fear on her tone.

“Stem the tide,” Argrave answered. “Staunch the bleeding with blood of my own. So long as you’re out here, I can’t fall. I’d be a fool not to take advantage.”

“You already are a fool,” Anneliese blurted out with worry and conviction. She knew better than anyone that now wasn’t the time to dither. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, Anneliese.” With one last brush of his wife’s hair, he attempted to teleport using one of his blood echoes still in Blackgard.

The very next moment, Argrave found himself in freefall miles into the sky. A black winged monstrosity made of the foul substance coming from the world’s wound grasped his face as if it had caught him out of the air. It resembled a gargoyle, and though its body looked composed of black mud, its head was supplanted by a giant almond-shaped eye glistening like golden glass.

It had intercepted him mid-teleport.

They plummeted downward, and Argrave felt the urge to vomit as he felt that black liquid the creature was made of trying to enter his mouth as if it were alive—alive, and starved. It burned to the touch like fire. He twisted his body and wildly cast blood magic into its body, extricating himself of the abomination.It exploded away, yet left its hand wrapped around his face. He tried to wipe the living sludge off before simply conjuring blood-imbued fire to burn it, and some of his skin, away. Only then did he cast [Absolute Movement], gaining the power of flight.

Just as Onychinusa had said, Argrave wasn’t far from the wound in the world. The black gash still constantly poured more of Gerechtigkeit’s embryonic tissue. This close to it, those terrifying feelings that overwhelmed the senses pervaded his mind. He’d only heard it described in Heroes of Berendar and experienced it loosely through the memories of the Gilderwatchers and Erlebnis. Neither could adequately convey the true sense of dread Gerechtigkeit invoked.

As thousands of embryonic golems broke free of the pillar of sludge, a barely-perceptible flame raged all around. It looked like nothing more than gas in the air—a vague shimmering. Already, though, it had marked the vast green plains outside Jast. Everywhere that it touched rotted, becoming naught more than another part of the coming wave of sludge. It promised to eat everything, like a tide of acid coming to sweep civilization away. It had already marked the closest city of Jast, leaving scars of decay. Argrave could hear the people in the city scream in agony as their guts turned to liquid inside their body. Its great towers had already begun to crumble.

Already, this calamity’s power was amplified infinitely beyond what Argrave remembered.

Without hesitation, Argrave forced himself deeper toward its heart. The dread crept up his body like water swallowing him as he went deeper into a pool. Swarms of those terrible eye-golems came at him from above and below—flying, stretching, falling… he didn’t pay any attention to their attack, getting to the heart of this foul formation.

Then, with both of his hands, with all of the blood echoes stored inside his body, even with the eyes bestowed unto him by Garm so long ago… Argrave called upon the most potent blood magic he could.

#####

Not even half a minute after Argrave had left them, Anneliese bore witness to one of the most impressive displays of power she had ever seen.

Like a red star brought to the planet, a gigantic pulsing mass of blood magic fought against Gerechtigkeit’s encroachment onto this realm. At first, it appeared like nothing more than a dark red ruby amidst the tide of misery. Soon enough, it began to twist and wind around the pillar of the calamity’s embryonic tissue until it became a maroon serpent in the sky, feasting upon the bounty offered by the wound in the world.

The resulting rush of vitality was harsher adrenaline than anything Anneliese had ever experienced before. Even the Shadowlands had been nothing compared to the scope of power that flowed from Argrave to her—but just as she received it, so too did she return it to him, understanding well the desperate struggle he engaged in at the heart of the wound in the world.

Anneliese turned, walking backward to address all assembled. “Everyone!” she shouted, her tone firm and decisive. They were unprepared… but that did not mean that they were unready. She needed to remind them of that. “All of us have spent the past eternity preparing for this event. We all knew this day would come, and never once did we expect it to be on our terms. Nothing has changed!

“Right now, the calamity is nothing more than mindless sludge, ungracefully pouring into this world where he does not belong. We, however, can waste no time in doing what needs to be done. In minutes at worst, hours at best, the calamity will be upon this world in earnest. Argrave bleeds and dies for us. He experiences more pain every passing moment than most will in a lifetime. Let us return to him the same fervor in preparing to fight for our world!”

The assembled party wasn’t large enough to respond with a thunderous cheer, but Anneliese felt certain the impact was the same. All, from Law to Raven, were reminded of the importance of their task. Argrave would stem the tide as best he could. It was up to Anneliese, then, to rally their forces for the counteroffensive.

If she could not match Argrave’s efforts… all would be lost.

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