Jackal Among Snakes

Chapter 630: Royal Regalia
Argrave and Anneliese wore strange robes of Artur’s design. They were made of metal formed into a wire—how it had been
crafted was beyond Argrave, but apparently, it was made of electrum. Argrave had rather embarrassingly thought electrum was a
fantasy metal, but no—it was an alloy of gold, silver, and a few other metals. Both of them looked like they were going into a
rave, doubly so because every single inch of metallic thread had been enchanted. The worst part was, Artur had insisted their
flesh be bare against the metal robes. To say the least of the situation, it made cotton seem pleasant by comparison.
Despite the uncomfortable garment, watching Artur consumed by his strange mood was truly a sight to behold. His ability to
multitask was exceptional—he spent as little time travelling as possible, efficiently routing his path around the forge so that he
would move to one task and stick to it until all that he’d gathered had been put to use. He mumbled to himself all while he
worked.
It all seemed rather excessive until one realized the level of detail each part of the work contained. If every inch of the metal
robes they wore were enchanted, that same level of detail was doubtlessly replicated elsewhere. It was heartening to know he
was putting so much work into creating this artifact. No one else could likely create something so intricate in this day and age.
The former Magister of the Gray Owl was very secretive about his unnamed A-rank ascension, but it was a large part of his
success as a craftsman. In essence, he could use magic to determine something’s structure. It was a vague description, Argrave
knew, but he supposed its true effect could only be experienced by the one who bore it. He could tell at a glance something’s
material composition, the layout of an enchantment, or how an object was held together. It might be likened to [Truesight], but
that was geared toward perception while Artur’s was geared toward analysis.
“Alright.” Artur descended off his cloak, alighting and looking between everything. “We’re ready.”
With that declaration, Artur opened a small metal box that contained the Fruit of Being. He turned it upside down, and it fell into
his hand. As Argrave and Anneliese both came to attention, he beckoned them forward.
“Reach in. You, there. And you, that one,” he instructed them, pointing out two metal boxes with openings barely large enough
for a hand. “Take hold, firmly.”
They both heeded his instructions, reaching inside their respective boxes and grasping what was within. It took Argrave a
moment, but he recognized the feel of the Resonant Pillar. Additions had been made, but the core of it was the same. Artur
squeezed in between them and placed the Fruit of Being in a chamber bridging the two boxes. He slid a lid shut, then rested his
hand on a knob at the top of the box.

“Door locked?” He looked over, confirming the door to the workshop was indeed closed. “Alright. Whatever you do, don’t let go. It
shouldn’t be painful, but if it is, bear with it. I shudder to imagine what the things I’ve coded to happen will do if one half of the
equation is simply missing.”
Anneliese studied him. “Coded?”
Artur pushed the knob in, and Argrave heard a squelch. Had he just crushed the Fruit of Being?
“In craftsmanship, many things are about efficiency. It’s a lot easier to make a machine that makes what you need than to do it by
hand. Imagine if we smelted with magic instead of a forge, for instance, or ground wheat by hand instead of with a mill. This
process might’ve taken us weeks if I hadn’t made this contraption—weeks during which your royal presences would need to lie
stark naked on a table.”
Argrave was sure of it—the Fruit of Being had been crushed. As a matter of fact, he was certain he heard juices flowing.
“Instead, I’ve delegated the minutiae to the powers that be, so to speak.” Artur stepped away, examining things. “While they do
their business, let me tell you about the royal heirlooms I’ve made. Indeed, you’ll be passing these items down to your heirs for
time eternal.”
Argrave wanted to look at Artur, but he couldn’t turn with his arm embedded in the box. He stared at Anneliese as she, too,
exuded the same desire to turn around.
“Argrave’s staff is the negative side of the equation. It negates, erases. It’s intended to take in what permeates the Shadowlands,
leaving behind emptiness which can then be replaced by the positive side of the equation—Anneliese’s staff. Hers can take that
which is negated and recreate it in a fashion more hospitable to you and those near to you. These weapons can effectively
rebuild the Shadowlands into a state more habitable for you and yours. I wish I could give you more detailed information about
what that entails, but all I know is that’s what it’ll do.”
Argrave felt a cold liquid fall over his hand. Then, he felt a strange tingling travel up the sleeve of the electrum robe that he wore.
The Resonant Pillar seemed to morph and twist in his hand, and in response he tightened his grip.
“But they’ll have more functions, as intended. I cannot rightly say what, but the reason I chose the two of you wasn’t coincidence.
For one, you’re the king and queen—through you, I hope to make my works last longer and earn me great repute. But for the
second reason, I’ve seen in both of you something that resonates with your respective side of the equation. I don’t know how to
explain it, but... there’s that.”

As Argrave looked at Anneliese, old memories surfaced. As far back as when he first tamed the Brumesingers, he was told that
he had an affinity for death. It had never again come up, so he figured it might’ve meant he’d be talented at necromancy or
something of the sort. Perhaps it was why he was drawn to blood magic.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
And Anneliese... even dismissing the fact her A-rank ascension was called [Life Cycle], Hause had claimed that her potential
was related to eternity. There had been too many possible explanations for that to so quickly decide on one, but Argrave thought
it might fit, somehow. Hause had claimed his potential was judgment, which somewhat fit with the affinity to death.
“Through death, comes life,” Artur continued. “That is the embodying principle behind these weapons: dualism. I said that,
already, but you should remember it. Considering Argrave’s ability awakened by the Fruit of Being is to deal death with his blood
magic... it stands to reason there should also be one to bring life after the fact. What you destroy, she will heal. Your negation will
be supplanted by her addition. With these two polarities, it’s my aim that you will become an invulnerable pair, bound by fate. I
believe the two of you will be fond of this idea,” Artur said proudly. “It’s a craftsman’s role to predict what you want out of your
commission, after all. And there is no craftsman superior to me.”
Argrave felt a strange power surge through the electrum robe, following the tracks that had been laid out by Artur. It wreathed
over all of it, and then... the metal started absorbing into Argrave’s skin. It disintegrated and soaked in like golden lotion. Looking
at Anneliese, she, too, was experiencing the same thing. It wasn’t painful, but Argrave’s whole body felt tingly. It felt as if he was
being massaged from inside and out.
Then, Argrave felt the Resonant Pillar shrink in his hands. In panic, he gripped tighter... but in time, there was nothing left to grip.
And soon after, the incredibly jarring sensations occurring all around his body also stopped. Looking down... the electrum robes
had vanished in entirety. Only his bare skin remained.
Artur had turned around long in advance. “You can remove your hands. And cover yourself up. I put some blankets on the table,
there.”
Argrave walked toward their clothes, eyes lingering on Anneliese in concern and curiosity as he grabbed one of the blankets. He
was glad he had been so cautious, because it was in time to see her stagger and fall. He rushed forth and caught her before her
head could impact with the ground ungracefully. She felt dreadfully cold in his arms, and he brought the blanket over her.
“Anne? Anne!” he said insistently. “What’s wrong? You’re cold.”
“I feel... dizzy. Heavy,” she said groggily.

“I should...” Argrave thought urgently of who was needed, making to move her elsewhere as he covered her better with the
blanket.
She grabbed his hair sloppily, fussing against the blanket. “Stay. You feel good. Come here.”
“What?” Argrave studied her for a few moments, until he felt it. It was as though Anneliese was taking something from him,
something innate. She clung to him tighter in her haze, pulling his head downward in an awkward embrace.
“I think... I think I know what’s happening,” Artur walked up to them. “I’ve paired you, but the equation is imbalanced in your
favor. From what I can see, the weapons have merged without incident. Now, both sides have to be of equal strength. Think of it
like a scale. A balancing act,” he explained.
“You’re sure?” He insisted of Artur, giving in to Anneliese lest she pull out his hair.
“I’m certain,” Artur nodded, his eyes gleaming. “I can see it happening right in front of me.”
#####
After a few hours, Anneliese’s only remaining affliction was a touch of embarrassment. She had put on a beige shirt with brown
pants and sat on a bench just beside Argrave, who wore something roughly matching. Artur floated a comfortable distance away.
“I forgot it all, Your Highness,” Artur insisted as she cast glances at him.
Anneliese covered her face. Argrave told him, “Lying only makes it worse for her. She knows.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said dismissively. “More importantly, I can feel the changes. Not just the weapon, but much else.” She
offered her hand to Argrave. “Let me show you.”
He put his hand on her own, and then... he felt magic flowing into his body. Shortly after, vitality, energy. He withdrew his hand in
surprise.
“[Life Cycle]’s functions have been expanded,” she informed him. “I can perform both—absorbing and ejecting energy. It feels
even more efficient than it once was. And... you can feel it too, right?”
Argrave nodded, staring into her eyes. “Yeah. The connection.”

“Those artifacts are a part of us, now. But they’re also bound together,” she said in wonder. “I am curious... just how far we can
feel it?”
“The artifacts were the only thing I’d intended,” Artur admitted. “But it seems as though you two have changed in more ways than
one. You can conjure the weapons, though, correct?”
Argrave held his hand out, reaching within himself for that presence he felt. Then, it took shape just as a magic spell might’ve.
He gripped what had once been the Resonant Pillar, examining it. Once, it had been a quarterstaff, evenly weighted. Now, it had
turned into a long scepter of sorts. Its base was black, gilded and studded with gemstones tastefully. There were ornate carvings
related to Vasquer’s heraldry all along its surface, and sunbursts of gold at points. He could feel an ominous resonance from it. It
felt attuned with his blood magic—he could feel it by instinct.
Anneliese, too, conjured hers. The staff crafted of Veid’s heart had been an ungainly wooden thing. Now, it was sleeker and
white, with silver and amber for decoration. He saw some magic script scrawled all along it. Anneliese gave the top a pull, and
the blade came free. It looked almost divinely white, with silver accents. Artur certainly had a flair for the beautiful. Both staffs
were something Argrave were almost decorative.
“...I added some magic to make it easier to use as an actual blade. Barring the access to the Shadowlands, I know they have yet
more powers that you’ll need to discover,” Artur said quietly. “I designed them intending for there to be deep synergies between
the two weapons. Apart, they will still be tremendous assets. Together... is there any cycle more potent than that of life and
death?”
Argrave and Anneliese looked at each other. Both of them knew what the other was feeling—unbridled excitement.