JACKAL AMONG SNAKES-Novel

Chapter 155: Stupid Heart

“Argrave,” Anneliese called out, short of breath.

Argrave turned his head from where he sat beside the great willow tree hanging off the ledge. This was where the cave housing the Alchemist’s home ended, leaving only a sheer cliff at a high point in a mountain. With the unending plain of clouds ahead, it appeared like the end of the earth stretched before him. The suns were setting, hueing the white fluffy clouds with reds and oranges.

Anneliese took some time to catch her breath, and then took slow steps towards him. Argrave turned his head back to the view before him, watching silently. She came to stand beside him.

“I feel blindsided,” he said, gaze wandering the cloud steppes. “Always had a theory about suicide. I thought there were some types of people that just wouldn’t. No matter how rough, they’d never do something like that.” He exhaled through his nose lightly—the smallest laugh. “I thought Garm was one of those types.” He brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “Thought I was, too. That’s something to note.” He paused. “Don’t worry. I’m not suggesting anything.”

Anneliese shifted on her feet. “It was not… suicide, exactly,” she argued as she sat down beside Argrave, staring out.

“I know a fair bit about souls. Read a lot of lore about them. Garm used [Voice of the Corrupt]. The damage to his soul would be significant. What’s more, Durran’s got an iron will.” Argrave shook his head. “It was hopeless from the beginning. Garm must’ve known that.”

“But Garm was arrogant,” she pointed out, staring beyond. “Maybe he genuinely thought he could win.”

He shook his head deliberately and slowly. “I can’t believe that. Garm might have had more experience… but in a fight between souls, that really matters none. You can do one such fight in ‘Heroes of Berendar.’ It’s a fancy fight… but given what I know of the lore, if one soul is damaged, it’s like pitting a bear against a dragon. The bear might be dangerous, but…”

She sighed. “Of all people… Garm.” She looked at him. “We knew him less than a month. And though it is horrible to say… I do hope Garm lives. But even still…”

“Even still?” Argrave pressed.

“He was deeply unhappy. Miserable. Maybe… maybe he jumped at the first chance he saw, no matter how poor his odds were,” she mused. “Anything to avoid living as he was for a while longer.”

Argrave said nothing, considering his own position on the matter. He knew Durran better than her, even if it was in a different medium. But, in this reality, he’d known Garm for longer. The man had been obstinate, stubborn, but there was a strange charm to his constant bitterness. He was like Rowe, in a way. Ultimately…

Argrave sighed. “I just want this day to end.”

Anneliese stared at Argrave, watching him. A silence settled in between them for a long, long while.

“Argrave. Please, break this cycle.”

He turned his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Holding your thoughts inside. Losing yourself in other things until you forget about it. Every time you get like this… it is worse than the last. Then your nightmares get worse, and you keep burdening yourself more and more and more.” Anneliese shook her head, unruly white hair swaying.

His gray eyes stared her down, steady as stone. After a time, he turned back to the view. The suns were setting lower, adding shades of purple and pink atop the clouds.

“Ignoring these things is a good skill to have, for a guy in my position,” he shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. “I can’t let thoughts, emotions, distract from the ultimate goal.”

“Again, you hesitate to speak,” she shook her head frustratedly.

“That stuff isn’t easy for me,” he ground his feet against the ground. “Not to mention my current in-agony state.”

“’Please,’ what?” Argrave looked to her.

“Stop choking yourself.”

“And do what, spill my guts?” Argrave threw his hands up. “What’s the point? I’m positive you know what I’m feeling.”

“Argrave,” he rebuked.

“You know what I mean—acting ignorant does not become you,” Anneliese gave him a stern-eyed glare. “The name of who you were before,” she elaborated.

“Why is that important?” he held out his hands. “I’m here, now. That life is gone. That guy is dead.”

“Is he?” she questioned loudly. “I talk to him right now. I grow frustrated at his obstinance. I worry for his well-being when he runs out, barefoot, into a jungle when he was sweating blood and having seizures not yesterday!”

Argrave stared at her, eyes wide when the ever-calm Anneliese yelled. After a time, he found the situation rather funny. He turned his head and laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to run out. I got… a little overwhelmed when I heard the news.”

“Yet you will not say why,” she noted, annoyed.

“Why is that important?!”

“In case you have not noticed, I am always fascinated by ‘why,’” she pointed out, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him.

Argrave rocked with her pushes, then chuckled, much of the tension dispelled.

“I feel pretty good, actually. The aching… it’s lessening. And that run—by god, you wouldn’t even recognize me.” He held up his hand. “My nails are even growing back. I think things are getting better, even if I’m not out of the water.”

“I am glad of it. Hopefully, things will—” she stopped, then frowned. “You are too good at controlling the conversation. I will not drop this subject.”

He laughed again. “I’m caught.”

“Argrave, I insist on this because I am worried,” she said levelly. “You act exactly like Garm.”

Argrave turned his head quickly, almost offended.

“What did he do? He lied and tricked us all. It may have been for a good purpose, but at the end of the day, he is lost to us.” She pointed at Argrave. “Just because it is in a different manner does not change the fact that you are doing the same thing. Self-sacrifice.”

Argrave frowned. “I can’t recall the last time I tricked you,” he pointed out.

“No,” he lied, adjusting his sitting position.

Anneliese stared at him patiently, waiting for him to speak.

“Alright,” he nodded. “I do… understand your point. I’m not conceding that you’re right,” he added.

“As I recall, you once said I was smarter than you, and you would never refuse my advice,” she smiled sweetly.

Argrave frowned but couldn’t hold the expression for long before he broke off into a chuckle. “People always turn your own words against you in the end.”

“Do you trust me?” she questioned.

“Of course,” Argrave answered at once. “That isn’t what this is about. Never was.”

“I think that you do distrust me,” Anneliese refuted.

“Ridiculous,” Argrave shook his head quickly. “Honestly, after what happened today, Galamon, Durran, and Garm going behind our backs like that… I think I trust you the most of everyone.”

“Then why do you keep me at a distance, even still?”

“You do not trust I would treat you the same if I knew more about you,” Anneliese summarized, tone flat.

“No…!” Argrave insisted, holding his hand out. But his visceral reaction faded, and he truly processed what she said. His face turned pensive, and his hand lowered. “I…”

“You see, now?” she raised a brow.

Argrave could only turn his head away, with nothing more to argue against. Ahead, the field of clouds had been dyed beautiful colors by the setting sun. It was like a painting, so beautiful it was, the dangling leaves of the willow tree only adding to the beauty.

“Why would you accept me if you knew me?” he finally spoke, voice quiet. “Argrave, royal bastard of House Vasquer, powerful mage blessed by Erlebnis, vanguard against Gerechtigkeit… and behind that, there’s just some fucking guy.” He shook his head. “Some strange goblin creature who locked himself in his home, writing about a game for fun. How do the two compare at all?”

“Argrave…”

“All of this, all of me, everything I’ve done… it’s with someone else’s body,” he turned his head to her. “That gnaws at me, every day. I’m an imposter. A phony. I’m wearing someone else’s shoes, and I’m walking about like my feet are massive. My feet are small—I’m just wearing big shoes, Anneliese. My hair, my eyes, my voice… even my skin’s an adornment,” he whipped his head back to the skyscape, blinking quickly.

Anneliese crawled forward a little and grabbed Argrave’s shoulders, turning him around.

“Argrave,” she said insistently, staring him in the eyes. “When you were born, did you choose your appearance?”

“What?” he questioned, confused.

“In your previous life… did you choose how you look? Did you choose your parents? Did you choose your social status or financial status, your physique, your intelligence, your talents? Did you choose your name?”

Argrave wiped at his eyes, refocusing. “Well, no, but I could have chosen the last—”

“No,” she repeated, giving him a light shake. “You chose none of that.”

“You have no responsibility,” Anneliese declared.

He hesitated a beat, then continued, “But the bronze hand mirror—”

Argrave stared at her amber eyes, throat tight and breathing heavy.

“From there,” she continued, still holding his shoulders, “You braved a cavern full of horrifying bugs. You navigated that city of Jast like it was your own property and negotiated a pivotal alliance between nobles by the end of it all. You went into the Low Way, getting caught between vampires, a knightly order, and twisted abominations, and emerged on top. You spurred a revolution against a tyrannical cult. And now… you have become Black Blooded. I don’t say this to flatter you—I say it to emphasize your choices, your actions.”

Argrave’s breathing calmed a fair bit. “Well… each had varying degrees of success… and I wasn’t alone…”

“You were the impetus,” she insisted.

He raised a brow, then conceded with a shrug. “I guess…”

“That was not Argrave. That was you. And I know you. You used to hate getting dirty or touching people, but you overcame that. Your response to discomfort or nervousness is to make jokes. I know that you enjoy explaining things, and I know that you enjoy learning magic. I know that you care deeply for the people around you—indeed, all people. You are a man who deceives everyone, most of all himself. You are a prolific liar—astonishingly so. Truly, it is almost unnerving how quickly you can fabricate things.”

His growing smile paused.

Anneliese’s words rattled his cage, bringing up something Argrave had been trying to keep locked away. He felt unbearably nervous as he lifted his hand up to her face. His fingers brushed her cheek, and she took a deep breath of surprise. She didn’t pull away, though, and he stared into her beautiful amber eyes. He leaned in, slowly, heart pounding the fastest it ever had…

Their lips met, and they shared a kiss. Beyond them, the suns continued the set, painting a serene scene of purples, oranges, pinks, and blues across the ocean of clouds.

Argrave pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. Both of them had red cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long while,” he admitted quietly.

Anneliese stared back into his eyes. It felt like the two of them had entered their own private little world, and everything around had ceased to be. Sounds, sights, smells, pain, all gone. There was only the two of them.

“I know,” she said after that long moment.

Argrave lowered his head to her shoulder, laughing heartily. Anneliese soon joined him, both falling into a disorganized heap of giggles. All the tension, sadness, anger, dispelled at once, and they both held each other. By the end of things, they laid on their backs, staring upwards.

“Definitely could have chosen a better time for that,” Argrave commented. “I bet I look terrible.”

“I thought… you were not attracted to me,” Anneliese admitted quietly.

“What?” Argrave sat up quickly, supporting himself with his elbow and staring down at her. “Why would you ever think that?”

“I would notice… I suppose…” she shook her head. “Romantic feelings. But then they would vanish, like you were… disgusted by them.”

Argrave frowned. “Not disgusted, never. Just… I didn’t think it would be a good time for such a thing… and…”

“And?” she pressed, raising her hand to his face.

“I felt I was inadequate,” he looked off to the side. “Well, correct that— ‘feel.’”

She sighed. “Need I give you yet another monologue?”

Argrave laughed, then turned back to face her. “Look at you. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, you’re probably the most talented spellcaster in the world, you’re way smarter than I am… I don’t think anyone could be a worthy partner for you.”

She smiled, cheeks reddening. “You are,” she pinched his cheek. “You nameless man. Will you tell me your name, now?”

“Payment for the kiss?” he questioned playfully.

“That would be an unfair barter,” she shook her head.

He grinned. “You’re right. Kiss from you—that’s worth the world.”

“No,” she laughed. “I get both a kiss and a name. That’s too much for me.”

Argrave laid back on the ground, joining her in laughter. “My lord. Can’t believe you think you’re not smooth.”

She held her hand out. Argrave took it.

“Vincenzo—Vincent,” he said.

She leaned up. “Vincenzo Vincent?”

“No,” he snorted. “Vincent’s a shorthand. Vincent, Vince, Vinny, Vin… take your pick. Vincenzo Giordano. That’s my name. I’m an Italian American… though you don’t really know what that means, and my parents were the black sheep and didn’t care much about heritage, anyhow… don’t even have the accent…”

“Vincenzo Giordano,” she repeated slowly, and then squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

Argrave felt strange, hearing that name again after so long. It wasn’t entirely pleasant, but… it wasn’t unpleasant, either.

“Would you like me to call you that? When alone, or…” she trailed off, staring at him.

“No,” Argrave shook his head. “’Argrave’ isn’t bad. I don’t hate it. And frankly… hearing that name again does make me a bit uncomfortable. Reminds me of things. I’d rather just treat ‘Argrave’ as my new name.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable…forget it,” she shook her head, and then laid back down.

A quiet silence set over them as they laid there. The suns had vanished, now, leaving only night behind.

“If you want me to open up a little… honestly, the only thing that kept me going was discipline.” Argrave held her hand a little tighter. “Getting up… was the hardest part of each day. Maybe that’s why it was hard to sleep.”

“I hope you say ‘was’ because that has changed.”

“For the sleeping part—I suppose we’ll have to find out. But…” Argrave trailed off. “My health is going to better. Stellar. Hell, this little moment we’re sharing, it’s easy to ignore the pain. I’m Black Blooded, a monument to health and wealth.” He thought of something and laughed.

“What?” Anneliese asked, confused why he was laughing.

“I thought the best gift I’d get here was becoming Black Blooded. Turns out I was wrong again. Instead, I got you.”

She shook her head, but Argrave could hear very faint laughter. After a while, she sat up.

“Argrave,” she began, freeing her hand and placing it on her lap.

“Yeah?” he adjusted his head.

“When this is all is over… do you want to find out why you came here? What happened to you?”

Argrave raised a brow, then lost himself in thought. “The way things are shaping up…” Argrave began. “There’s going to be a lot of devastation. Between the plague, the civil war… most of all, Gerechtigkeit… and those are just the ones most immediately obvious,” Argrave shook his head. “If I have a large part in things, as is almost necessary… it stands to reason I’ll need to be a part of the rebuilding, too.”

“A position of prominence…” Anneliese noted. “Leadership, guidance… perhaps even sovereignty.”

Argrave went silent. He stared up at the stars, just barely visible beyond the ceiling of the cave.

“The thought had entered my head,” he noted. “Royal bastard, heavily involved, hopefully a force for good… maybe people might want that as a king. But bastardry is a heavier stain than you might imagine.”

“I’m not suggesting you take it,” Anneliese shook her head. “The opposite, in fact. You’ll have toiled for three years, sweating blood. Quite literally, after this month,” she noted. “Once He Who Would Judge the Gods is gone… maybe… we can abandon it all.”

“Already planning an elopement?” Argrave smirked.

“Be serious,” she insisted, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “I see how much you put into this. I said it earlier, but you are astonishingly resilient. Some selfishness would be long overdue once things are over.”

“You’re planning for something we’ve yet to do,” Argrave pointed out. “The odds are far from being rigged in our favor. Fighting a world killer—not exactly a guaranteed win, little lady.” He gripped her hand. “There’s something selfish I do want to do, though.”

“And what is that?”

“Make the whole world know about us,” he suggested. “We have an opportunity to become really unbearable, and I think it needs to happen.”

She smiled. “Unbearable?” she repeated.

“You know the type. Constantly being lovey-dovey, no matter where.” He smiled, then shook his head. “Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, imposing my thoughts like this. I just… I’m happy. And I feel lucky.”

“Me too,” she nodded. “But… a position of prominence, as I mentioned… already, Nikoletta’s father wished to engage you to—”

“Stop that,” Argrave interjected at once. “If there’s one thing I’m not willing to compromise on, it’s you. No political nonsense is going to stop that.”

She said nothing in response, but she did smile. Argrave looked back towards the stars.

“I think… I’m looking forward to the future,” Argrave realized.

“Argrave… please do not become like Garm,” Anneliese insisted.

Those words felt like Argrave had been pushed back into reality. He felt guilty he had been able to put that aside so quickly… but the mind avoids the negative. His mind more than most.

“The idea of it makes me nauseous,” she continued. “Do not sacrifice yourself for anyone. And… if not with anyone else… at least promise to be totally honest with me.”

The two of them stared at each other. Argrave stayed silent. He found it was a difficult promise to make. There was much he wished to hide from her, much he wished to never again let see the light of day.

“Alright,” Argrave nodded, though the words were difficult to say. “I promise.”

Contended, she laid down, resting her head on his chest. Argrave wrapped one arm around her, feeling full of life.