Drinking alcohol was really just drinking scummy water for Argraveâhis black blood, coupled with all the other myriad ways that his body had changed since using the Fruit of Being, made both water and rubbing alcohol equally intoxicating. Which is to say: not at all. As time went on, it became clear Durran had become much the same way. Nevertheless, both of them drank pisswater in honor of Garm. Heâd be pleased.
Argrave spent the first while regaling the so-called King of the Scorched Sands on the merits of Garmâs choices in the Shadowlands. There were tales to tell that were good enough they seemed tall, but each and all were the truth of the matter and nothing more. They talked well into midnight, and Argrave appreciated the night far more now that heâd experienced total darkness. The night, at least, had some stars shining, and a large red moon overhead. freewebnĂžvel.com
Gradually, though, something loosened and mellowed Durranâit couldnât be blamed on alcohol. His repartee slowed to a lull, before disappearing altogether in way of a more honest form of the man Argrave had come to know.
âI like your city, Argrave,â Durran admitted. âI donât know if Iâll end up staying hereâthough, that depends a lot on Elenore. I can show her the desert, but I canât make her like it.â
Argrave rested his arms on the table between them. âSheâs a city rat, but sheâs also tough. I think she could do both.â
âYeah, but thereâs no parliament in the Burnt Desert. And thereâs no you.â Durran took another drink, grimacing at the taste. âSheâs given herself fully to this cause of ours. She has a lot to offer. She can do things I can barely imagine. Sometimes⊠I struggle to see my place in things.â
âYouâre important to us,â Argrave said in assurance. âDonât doubt it for a second.â
âPlease. I really only know how to fightâand as weâve proven, Orion is infinitely more suited to that than I am.â Durran raised his tankard. âNot that I mind. To Orion, savior of the city.â
Argrave narrowed his eyes. âAre you trying to goad me into playing the surrogate father that points out all your good qualities? This sounds like a ploy to get me to say nice things so you can make fun of me.â
Durran laughed. âNo, Iâm just⊠a little lost.â He looked at Argrave. âWhat do you need from me? What do you want from me? I want to do more. I want to do better. I want to pay you back for that golden meal you fed me, because you deserve it. Look at Garm. Man was more jaded than anyone Iâve ever met, and still, he⊠did that.â
Argrave leaned back in his chair. âI think⊠I think I get what the problem is.â
âYeah?â Durran looked at him.
âYeah, I do.â Argrave tapped the table. âI think Iâve been stifling you.â
âWhat?â Durran narrowed his eyes. âYouâre not responsible for my failures. Iâveââ
âNo, itâs true.â Argrave nodded. âYou donât work best being given orders. You work best given free rein, left to your own devices with an objective in mind.â
âOh yeah?â Durran laughed. âTell me more about me.â
âI need you to go back to the Burnt Desert,â Argrave continued. âAnd I need you to tie up all the loose ends that Iâve been putting on the backburner. I need you to deal with the automatons that the subterranean mountain people use, for starters. I need you to be the King of the Scorched Sands. I need an independent actor to get things done, without consulting anyone but their own judgment.â
âSo⊠âgo home, stop wasting my time,â yeah?â Durran raised a brow.
âYeah.â Argrave nodded, and Durran looked genuinely surprised heâd agreed. He leaned into the table. âListen⊠if you wanted somebody to tell you sweet nothings and say they love you, youâd be hashing this out with my sister. But youâre talking to me. That says a lot about what you want to hear. Sometimes, someone wants someone to tell them to man up. Why? Because it works.â
âHellâŠâ Durran looked into his tankard. âMaybe youâre right. Noâyou are right,â he amended. âNo âmaybeâ about it. I just⊠lost a lot of confidence, having been given this gift only to have such a poor showing.â
âSo go home, ruminate on things, and fix it,â Argrave ordered. âI trust you. I do. Youâre capable. Make sure that your homeland is ready to receive the calamity. No one knows the Burnt Desert better than you.â Argrave paused, then added, âActually, I probably do, but letâs ignore that. Iâm cheating, what with the wiki and all. It canât be helped.â
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âPrick.â Durran laughed. âYou know⊠Iâve been thinking. Garm said that he didnât want you to name any of your children after him.â
âTrue.â Argrave nodded, then joked grimly, âHeâs a little less say in the matter, now.â
âI was thinking⊠maybe Elenore and I could,â Durran suggested. âRespect his wishes, but carry on the name all the same.â
âAnd who knows? Maybe Garm will resurrect once more, possessing the body of your child just as I possessed Argrave. After all, he mightâve left his traces on you somewhere.â Argrave raised his tankard, enjoying the horrified expression Durran sported. âTo Garm.â
When Durran and Argrave eventually parted ways, Argrave walked away with deeper knowledge about his role in the battle. As Durran said, his performance wasnât exceptional, but he had still gained a newfound understanding of the powers offered by the Fruit of Being. During the battle, heâd exhibited exceptional strength, harnessing memories that werenât entirely his ownârather, they seemed to come from the traditions that heâd inherited in the manner of golden tattoos lining his body. The âmemories of dead peopleâ bit was a little similar to Garmâs, though far more limited in its scope. Argrave was glad to learn that they had another frontliner who could take the tremendously powerful battles that were soon to come.
After, he spoke with Anneliese, whoâd been catching up on other fronts. She had been reviewing the results of the research into the new field of soul magicâor rather, the expansion of druidic magic into soul magic. Argrave was awed by its potential, and followed after Anneliese.
While Argrave caught up with what sheâd read, Anneliese elected to search for Onychinusa. She returned in what felt like no time at all, and it was only then that he realized how engrossed heâd been in these developments. She delivered news of her journey without much prompting.
âI found Onychinusa. Lllewellen expired,â Anneliese said.
Argrave had been trying to organize sprawled out papers when she said that, but paused and looked at her. âElenore said Onychinusa had grown rather close with him.â He scratched his cheek. âShe must be⊠inconsolable.â
Anneliese considered that. âShe would've been a few days ago, I suspect. She âkidnappedâ Llewellen to force him to research a way to preserve his life, to live on with her. Onychinusa tells me that he helped her accept it. So, they spent their last few days with one another peacefully. Sheâs sad. But at the same time, I think sheâs⊠much more whole, if that makes sense. And Llewellen passed on knowing what all of his good work was in service of.â
âLlewellen was rather sage.â Argrave looked down at the documents before him. âHave you had a chance to look at this paper?â
âThis one?â She walked up, laying eyes upon it, then carried on past him. âNo. I was going through the daily reports in chronological order. I saw interesting illusion magics, but none this so-called âsoul magicâ of yet.â
Argrave looked at her. âYou mentioned you preserved Traugottâs psyche, right?â
âI can recreate it.â She nodded. âWhy?â
âI was rather worried about how we were going to extract information out of him.â Argrave turned back to his papers, leafing through them. âBut⊠I found⊠here.â He pulled one paper out, then walked briskly to her and delivered it. âI think we should bring Traugott back. Then⊠use that. An interrogatorâs wet dream.â
She studied it for a moment, her head clicking as she went through the same considerations that Argrave did. With that spell, they could force Traugott to divulge any information they could imagine.
âThe last thing I wanted was reason to actually bring him back. But with this⊠thereâs no excuse, is there?â Anneliese sighed deeply.
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âWe need to know anything that heâs learned. It could be the Heralds. It could be related to Sophiaâs power. It could be some measure he took to ruin the world before we beat himâwhatever it is, letâs tie a bow on this bastardâs saga.â
âAlright.â Her fingers tightened around the page. âOne last moment of his existence, until heâs snuffed out forevermore.â
Argrave looked upon the shell of Good King Norman. It was a testament to Traugottâs utter disregard for everything that heâd chosen to abandon his original body to inhabit something like this, all at some vague hope of playing some hand in the fate of the universe. He was a dangerous manâas such, Anneliese took no chances. The form sheâd made for the psyche of Traugott had neither A-rank ascension nor magic at all. They were in Ravenâs lab, closed off from the rest of the world. The body was crucified in stakes of Eboniceâextreme, perhaps, but they didnât want Napoleon Bonaparte coming back from exile to pick up the torch of his revolution in the Shadowlands.
Anneliese withdrew her hand from the shellâs chest, stepping back. âAny momââ she began, but a deep breath of air ahead cut her off.
The shell, now occupied with Traugottâs mind, looked about in curious panic before settling on the two of them. It opened its mouth to speak, but Argrave already had the spell prepared. He employed soul magicâthe spell [Compulsion] blast out, entwining with Traugottâs soul. His head rocked back and he spasmed before growing still.
âTell me your full name,â Argrave commanded.
âTraugott of Galrithium,â he answered, as pliable as any other druidic bond.
Argrave pausedâthat confirmed he was from the Burnt Desert, though Argrave knew that town had long ago fallen to ruin. He looked at Anneliese. He saw her trepidation, and it was surely mirroring his own. It was time for a conversation with the man that had caused so much damage to the world.