Jackal Among Snakes

“I won’t let you.”

Orion blinked open his eyes. The pain that he’d been feeling moments before had all gone, replaced only with the pleasant and familiar sensation of wind gracing his cheek across windy plains. Remembering what he was doing, he sat up and looked around. Rather than a battlefield ravaged by his powerful foe, he saw a dreary landscape unfold before him.

As far as the eye could see, there was gray, dead grass. It somehow looked worse than when winter came—blacker, like it’d been burnt away with fire. There was the undeniable stench of corruption in the air, almost like rotting flesh. At the far end of his vision, he saw a golden tree that he’d visited once before.

The Tree of Being.

Fear and nervousness took hold of him as he realized what the implications of his vision were. Had he finally greeted death? Was this horrifying world the afterlife? Was there to be some sort of punishment for his sins? He had tried to outweigh what he’d done with virtue, protecting his family so ardently… but perhaps some things simply couldn’t be outweighed.

“You think too much,” said that voice he’d heard earlier. “It’s rather like how I speak too much.”

The voice was hoarse, almost as if it was an old man’s barely clinging to life. But there was something familiar about it, and Orion rose to his feet. He started to walk toward the tree, already having some inkling as to what he might be going to greet. When he crested the hill that the Tree of Being sprouted from, he saw a great serpent, divested of all that had made it glorious.

Lindon the silver serpent, god of minds, dreams, and consciousness. He laid there, descaled. He’d never had a solid body, but every apparition he’d shown them had been one of some considerable glory. This, by contrast, looked like it was dying. It looked far worse than Vasquer ever had, even when she’d been trapped underground for so long. Even when she’d actually died.

But those silver eyes trained themselves on his figure at the top of the hill, and that hoarse voice pierced his mind once again. “Hello, Orion.”

Orion braced himself uneasily. Given what he’d just fought, he couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t some further machination of Gerechtigkeit. Whether on the physical realm or the mental one, he would fight to the bitter end.

“If you’d like to punch me a few times to relieve your rage, feel free. But I’ve gone through great lengths to make sure that your end isn’t bitter, despite how hard you fought me.” He heard a great sigh from the wounded Lindon. “I had hoped you would react to my warning altogether differently than you did. But, given the limited resources I had at my disposal, it worked out as best as I could have hoped.”

“What do you speak of?” Orion called out, his voice echoing powerfully through this realm.

“That feeling of impending doom. The notion that death was coming. It wasn’t some supernatural intuition that your time for retribution was coming—it was my attempt at a warning.”

Orion’s face hardened in disbelief.

“Gerechtigkeit has a complete stranglehold on the Gilderwatchers, Orion. The past weeks, he’s spent refining my existence into what you fought. The power I had, existing within the Gilderwatchers… he brought them together, isolated my being, and used the Melding I’m capable of creating to birth the monster that you killed. It was a vast compression of my will into that single entity.”

“Killed? You claim I killed it?” Orion repeated.

“Oh, indeed. Killed,” Lindon confirmed. “Even snakes die when their head is cut off. They might writhe for a while, but they’re functionally dead. You killed that silver warrior, Orion. You needed no aid from the Fruit of Being. You saved Blackgard. You rallied against fear, and in so doing, became much stronger than you were.”

Orion touched his waist, where he recalled that final wound piercing his body. “Then… I must’ve died, in those final moments.”

“Of course not,” Lindon disagreed. “Do you think your sister would leave you dying idly? Even as we speak, I suspect she’s scooping you up and making sure you don’t expire. Your extraordinary constitution will take care of the rest. But we speak of things left to happen, and there are words I must impart before I fade.”

“You’re fading?” Orion questioned, still cautious.

“Indeed. I knew my death at Gerechtigkeit’s hand was inevitable. In strength, he has always been my superior. He’s spent countless millennia studying my technique to warp the mind, too, and it showed. I held out as long as I could, but when I realized death was inevitable, I succumbed so that I might deliver one last vestige of untainted will. It’s how we can still speak. I hope to offer some insight into what Gerechtigkeit will attempt.”

Orion nodded. He still felt some caution, especially after remembering what’d happened to Vasquer, but he said, “I will listen.”

“Gerechtigkeit will stop at nothing to retrieve Sophia,” Lindon said bluntly. “The knight that appeared today was a manifestation of the wish the two siblings shared, back when they were Griffin and Sophia, comrades in abuse at Sandelabara. The perfect knight, come to save them both. He dreamed of a poetic reunion with his lost sibling, where he ends the cycle his way and realizes the path laid out for both of them. Defeating it… I will not ever say that anything could suffice as vengeance for the death of Vasquer, but I will say that Gerechtigkeit surely rages at its death. You denied him his perfect future. He now surely hates you as much as you hate him.”

Orion said nothing, but he accepted that situation internally. It aligned with how Sophia had reacted as he’d been guarding her.

“He used me as the fodder for this perfect knight’s creation. In so doing, he has supplanted me within the Gilderwatchers. He exists in them as I existed in them. Simultaneously, he’s attempting to destroy the White Planes, which would unbind them from the treaty suppressing our abilities. If that were to happen, he could exert the same power I once did millennia ago. If that should happen, the minds of all on the planet are at risk. He could quite literally make slaves of everything capable of higher reasoning.”

Orion felt a deep sense of unease at that. “What of the rings we crafted?”

“I believe they’ll function, thank the gods,” Lindon said, relief flavoring his tone. “The only reason I was able to enter your mind is because your hand was cut off your body. Still, it would be entirely impractical to expect you to be able to distribute those rings worldwide. The logistics of such a thing… even with Elenore, it would be largely impossible. But there remain other ways to prevent this apocalypse.”

“Would you ask me to hunt Gilderwatchers?” Orion said, voice tight. Catching movement, his eyes danced to the side. There, very distantly, he saw the ground collapsing.

“…that would be my last suggestion,” Lindon said quietly. “I will never feel at ease suggesting that you should make something I spent lifetimes protecting simply… end. But given the danger to all others, I cannot dismiss it entirely. There are two other ways I would suggest you pursue, first. Neither can be called simple, but they are preferrable.”

“Tell me, then.” Orion gestured, keeping an easy eye on distant ground. It looked as though this world was collapsing.

“The first would be to prevent the destruction of the White Planes,” Lindon said. “Given how immensely formidable they are, it would be a near-impossible task. How do you reinforce that which is essentially impregnable? I use that word, yet the fact that it falls before Gerechtigkeit’s power suggests it does still have room for improvement. If it is possible, find it.

“The second would be the most ideal outcome, from my viewpoint. That would be harnessing your latent bloodline to a greater extent, giving yourself and your siblings the capacity to fight back against and neutralize Gerechtigkeit’s mental assaults over the people.”

Orion narrowed his eyes. “Is such a thing possible?”

“If I knew, I would simply give you the answer and send you on your merry way. But the family of Vasquer is a rather unique existence. I cannot honestly say if there is a route. Influencing the mind of others… it is a frightening power, indeed. Of everyone alive bearing descent from Vasquer, you are most similar to the Gilderwatchers. I believe you have the best potential of doing so.”

“I am?” Orion tilted his head.

“Of course you are. You have unending desires to protect and serve your family. You have notions of harmony, togetherness, and cooperation that defy conventional human standards. And yet… in that knight, Orion, was a message I believe you should hear. A symbolic one, that I hope will change your conduct throughout the rest of your life.”

Orion crossed his arms defensively, bracing himself as the total collapse of this plane came ever closer.

“That knight… though it bore my colors of white and silver, it was modelled after you, Orion. It was that idealistic version of yourself that you keep trying to mold yourself into being. It had perfect mentality, superior strength, and still you killed it. Why? Because, Orion, that ideal that you strive toward is fundamentally flawed. It will kill you, just as you killed it.”

He didn’t know what to say in response to that.

“You are not special. You haven’t been chosen by the universe to carry out a specific role. You do not possess some warped fate that dictates you must live to serve your family and people. You inherited that from us, but you are not a Gilderwatcher. I say so as much for your sake as those around you.”

“What are you advising?” Orion asked defensively.

“There must be more to life and love than duty to something greater.”

Those words stirred uncertainty in Orion’s heart. He’d heard similar statements in the past—most often from Argrave, come to think of it. He had paid them little mind, as he felt himself possessed of complete comprehension about who he was and the purpose he served. Yet… never before had he thought himself capable of something like fear.

“Kill the perfect knight,” Lindon urged. “You’ve done so in body. Now, do so in spirit. Grace those around you with your presence for as long as you can. Your sacrifice will never be worth as much as your existence.”

Leaving those words behind in the wake of his own sacrifice, the rapid collapse of this plane finally reached to where they stood. Lindon’s body crumbled away, and so too did the ground beneath Orion’s feet. He tumbled into an endless void. When he looked up, he saw the Tree of Being slowly eaten away… until it became nothing at all.

Then, Orion met solitude again.