Jackal Among Snakes

Melanie had said that Dario was ‘mighty ruined.’ Upon visiting him in the mountain prison cells guarded by far too many people, Argrave thought the description apt. They hadn’t treated him too poorly on account of the fact that he had alerted them about Mozzahr, nor had they been overkind. Ultimately, he was behind Castro’s death. That wasn’t something that could soon be forgotten, nor forgiven.

Bloodshot eyes, emaciated skin, an inability to even prop himself upright, cracked skin… he looked like a drug addict of thirty years, not someone who had been walking and talking down in the dwarven city of Mundi not too long ago. He had been laid out across a bed, bound by chains even with his battered body. Despite his state, his eyes appeared sharp and intelligent. Argrave held his red-eyed gaze, still thinking about Sophia. Were the subterranean mountain tribes related to her, somehow? He doubted it.

“You stare any longer, he might get the wrong idea,” Melanie commented. She leaned up against the side of the cell, arms crossed.

Argrave drew himself from his moment of scrutiny, grabbed a chair, and pulled it up alongside the bed. Anneliese did the same, the iron legs letting out an unpleasant screech against the stone.

Argrave hunched over, watching. “To be honest, I thought you’d have chosen death before prison.”

Dario closed his eyes to look at the shame he kept hidden in his mind. “Thought the same. Easy to talk, to think. Wasn’t the pain that stopped me. Dying turned out to be the hard part.”

“We have Sophia,” Anneliese was the first to break the silence.

“You do.”

“Hause has already revealed much of what she is,” she continued.

Dario turned his head to look at her. “She has.”

“Argrave told me that you were worried about the state the world would end up in should this come to pass.” Anneliese stood, and put one hand on the end of the iron bedpost. “If that truly is the case, I think you would be best served working with us, cooperating with us. If you represent yourself and your ideas well enough… Argrave is not unreasonable. He is not apathetic, nor uncompassionate. We intend to find the answers, one way or another.”

“I chose not to die because of fear. I didn’t know what came after.” Dario shifted his head to look up at the ceiling. “So why would you people do all of this—pulling apart the world we know by the seams, not knowing what’s waiting on the other side? No matter how bad things are, they could always be worse.”

Melanie scoffed. “They could also be better, you colossally moronic mummy.”

“No more metaphors, allegories. You’ve cooperated partly. Now, give us the information we need.” Argrave leaned close, cutting past the preamble. “What are the Heralds?”

“Heralds?”

“The thing that was working through you,” Argrave pointed.

“Mmm.” Dario thought for a moment. “Whatever it was, it came to me through dreams. Dreams at night, daydreams during the day that alerted me to things I couldn’t see. Never got a name. Heard its voice a few times, but it was never that significant. It showed me different lives, different scenes. Anything that had ever happened, they could show me.”

Argrave was already vaguely aware of that given Dario’s letters, but he sought to confirm things. “They showed you us? Traugott? Mozzahr? Not just informed, but showed?”

“Yes. All of you.”

Argrave bit his lip—the Heralds’ omniscience was confirmed. “How long has this been happening?”

Dario thought. “Don’t know. A year, maybe more. Don’t have much grasp of time. Just… duty. They can’t interfere directly. They have to act through another, or they dissipate. Without a willing host, the most they can do is nullify certain abilities—magic, divinity.”

“Why?” Anneliese asked.

“Because…” Dario thought. “Because they’re not inside this realm, not really. They’re outsiders.”

Melanie walked away from the wall she leaned against, then peered down at Dario. “And what was it that they showed you to convince you to tear yourself apart just to force Castro to do the unthinkable?”

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“They showed me things I’m told Argrave can understand very personally.” Dario wrenched his gaze away, unable to hold hers. “This place isn’t all there is.”

Argrave nodded. “You’re right. I’m not from here. Is that why they called me a parasite?”

“Yes. You slipped past things, wormed yourself into this place, and now gorge yourself on the fruits of others. That’s their perspective.” Dario sighed deeply. “More than Traugott, more than Mozzahr, it was you they feared. Someone that doesn’t belong. Someone that sees like they do, even if in a stranger way. This cycle of judgment, terrible as it is, is far less costly than the alternatives they showed me. The alternatives that you careen toward headlong, seeking the source of Gerechtigkeit. I’ll tell you why I did what I did.

“I did it because you could cause the end of all divinity, the end of their servants. You could bring about the total eradication of magic and all creations it sustains. That's what could happen here, in this realm, alone. Beyond? A central pillar of existence would cease to be. Billions would be violently displaced as the natural order of things crumbles.” Dario closed his eyes. “Like it or not, this world we live in sustains billions of lives outside it.”

“But it didn't always. Gerechtigkeit is a fabrication, a construction by other minds unconcerned with this realm and its fate.” Argrave tapped his temple. “I went, Dario. I saw. And I think I know how this nightmare began.”

“What was, wasn't what is,” Dario rebuked. “Many millennia have passed since that scene you saw, that child’s memory of events millennia past. It was time enough for lives, the same as yours and mine, to be built upon this edifice of our tragedy. We should not tear it down and condemn the billions ignorant of us.”

“Are you telling us that Gerechtigkeit sustains other places?” Anneliese looked fascinated.

Dario nodded. “Yes. Precisely.”

“So, what, the Heralds are innocent land developers, and we're the poor natives that have to die so that luxury homes can fill the universe? We're supposed to endure an endless cycle of judgment so those people can live happy lives? Is that what you’re conveying to me?” Argrave pointed between himself and Dario.

“No. This isn’t some enterprise by the… the Heralds, as you call them. This world, and all others similar to it, are not their manufactured design. These billions are living their lives just as you or me—they were born not knowing why, wandering through life seeking purpose and survival. But all of that could cease to be if Gerechtigkeit is thwarted. You could condemn them all, Argrave. If the cycle of judgment ends, you, yourself, would be casting judgment on billions you’ve not met. It could be a place just like the one you came from.”

Argrave took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Could.” He leaned in closer. “Have you ever thought that the Heralds aren’t showing you the whole story?” Dario closed his eyes, and Argrave continued. “Oh, I bet it’s crossed your mind once or twice. They only show you the bad, while there’s a whole world of good out there just ripe for the picking. Only… it doesn’t align with their interests. So they kept it hidden, kept it quiet.”

Dario opened his eyes and focused upon Argrave. “Perhaps that’s true. But if there was a way someone could kill tens of billions with some dim possibility of a better outcome, would you let them take that risk? Could you gamble the lives of billions on a hope?”

Melanie walked to the foot of the bed. “Do you think Gerechtigkeit hasn’t killed billions, directly or indirectly, with the chaos he’s caused? And do you think he won’t in the future?”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Dario looked between the three of them in the room. “It’s as I told you back then. People come to different definitions of ‘good’ based on their interpretation. I do… regret the damage I caused. But I won’t renounce the reason I caused it. I tell you now only because I hope that you, too, will see and understand.”

“All predicated on the word of people that’d wither you away?” Melanie pointed out. “This is what you base your decisions on? You’re a fool. People tell you one lie, and you—"

“Argrave.” Dario looked at him intently. “You understand, don’t you? Would you destroy the world you left behind for this one? Would you? Because that could well happen, if you don’t do the right thing when the time comes.”

Argrave gave no answers, but the question stuck with him as he crossed his arms. “What actually are the Heralds?”

Dario settled back into his bed, all vigor in him dissipating. “I don’t know. Even that name is new to me.”

“Is there anything more you can tell us?” Anneliese insisted.

“No. They kept me on a need-to-know basis, perhaps expecting such an eventuality.” He swallowed dryly. “If I dip into conjecture… I think they’re as mortal as you or I. Because before my guide left me, I felt anger. Anger, and fear.”

Anneliese studied him for a long moment, and then rose to her feet. “You’ve been remarkably honest with us.”

“Well, I told him who comes in here if he doesn’t.” Melanie continued to stare hard.

“If?” Dario looked around. “Despite your compassion, I think you’re a pragmatist, Argrave. There’s no good reason not to give me to the Alchemist. All I ask is for… something quick, quiet, and painless. Don’t make it painful.”

“Come on, now, stop with the doom and gloom,” Melanie shook her head, then looked to Argrave. She looked to have more to say, but trailed off when she saw the look in Argrave’s eye.

Argrave stared long and hard at Dario, asking himself a harder question than he’d thought. The Alchemist could certainly get the best results if death and an autopsy were on the table. And Castro had died because of this man.