Argrave lowered down the wooden-framed glass display case containing the bronze set of jewelry he’d came to get. It settled delicately on the uneven stone of the heart chamber, the pieces within staying fixed atop a velvet pillow. Everyone else was similarly hauling things, setting them in uneven heaps. It was impossible to tell the value of much of what they saw—neither Vera nor Hegazar were experts at discerning inscriptions from the Order of the Rose.
“It seems the thing we really ought to be discussing is logistics…” Hegazar mused. His body was unused to carrying things and he did not deign to use magic for the task, so his haul was relatively light. “Even if things are divided, how are we to carry this back?”
Vera set down her box, and then said without much care, “A local caravan, perhaps. I have enough to pay for my own passage. If you can’t pay similarly… I could be persuaded to help you if you part with more of this gear. We would return together. This equipment is valuable enough to warrant our personal escort, I should think.”
“Of course I—” Hegazar began, but then stopped and shook his head. “We waste time. Let’s get back.”
Once Vera and Hegazar turned back, Argrave covertly cast a spell. He could acutely feel his Brumesingers rush to obey his command. The two Magisters were still cautious and comfortably slow, and Argrave was glad of this fact. Considering Anneliese was linked to Argrave’s druidic bond through the B-rank spell [Progenitor], she would surely know what he was doing, and be amply prepared to act in kind.
Plotting against the paranoid was a mountainous task. But paranoia had a negative reputation for a reason—it was something that could prey upon the one who had it just as easily as it could help them. Anneliese and Argrave had nothing monumental in mind. Instead, something simple and easily done worked best.
Piece by piece, Argrave’s Brumesingers caused slight disturbances. The limitations of his spell [Pack Leader] by which he bonded the creatures to himself disabled direct control, but he could have them aimlessly move the treasures in the vault about easily enough. Anneliese’s Starsparrow, however, took things here and there. Whenever she had the opportunity, bits would disappear—the bird was strong enough to spirit away enchanted jewelry, small daggers, even whole books.
It was subtle. But subtleties were best noticed by paranoid people like the two Magisters with them. Argrave was certain that both noticed the small discrepancies—Vera’s face tightened in suspicion at objects displaced by the Brumesingers, and Hegazar kept a detailed account of all that was there.
Their small changes were like infected wounds slowly beginning to fester. None of it was enough to bear mentioning—they hauled so much treasure out of the vault that to mention a book having gone missing or a ring disappeared would make the other appear mad. Nonetheless, Argrave knew that he drilled at their paranoia ever so steadily, inflaming this instinct and making them eager to take action.
When they arrived back at the vault for the umpteenth time… Argrave had a little scene prepared for the both of them. It was only a southron elf warrior conjured of mist, appearing for nothing more than half a second at the entrance to the vault. Yet the conjurations of the Brumesingers always had a startling realism to them until they were struck… and the effect was obvious.
“What in the world was that?” Vera said quietly, body tensing. She put some distance between herself and Hegazar.
“Looked to be a person,” Hegazar turned to Argrave. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? You, the only person who knew where this place was beforehand? You, the only one who might’ve prepared men here beforehand?”
Argrave raised his hands up in innocent surrender. “I didn’t do anything!” he protested indignantly.
“No illusion can fool my eyes. I made sure of that, knowing I would be travelling with this one,” Vera said angrily, eyes fixed on Hegazar. “That was a man. Walking, talking, breathing.”
“I saw it just as well as you,” Durran contributed. “Didn’t look human.”
Hegazar and Vera both scanned Argrave’s features, looking for an answer written on his face. Argrave felt like a roulette ball was spinning, and he’d put all his chips on black.
“There’s one entrance, we all made sure of that.” Hegazar concluded with his grim voice. “We’ve seen them. They can’t escape. I trust you won’t change that story of yours, Argrave, once we catch this person. Elsewise… well, their fate will be a kindness compared to yours.”
Vera eyed Hegazar’s true body. She seemed to be questioning if he was truly sincere. When he turned and started walking towards the vault with a quick, almost furious stride, she seemed to be a little more believing. Hegazar passed by into the vault, and Argrave’s heart started to beat like a whole marching band disturbed his chest.
Argrave stepped closer. By this point, Vera found Hegazar’s haste alarming, and hurried after him like there was some party she’d be missing. She hesitated at the vault’s entrance, and Argrave pressed up just behind her. A dense mist lay beyond, and Argrave saw Hegazar entering it confidently. Vera inched her way in cautiously, and Argrave stepped with her. Then, he stretched his legs backwards and hastily backstepped.
As though timed, the doors started to shut right before Argrave’s nose, the Brumesingers appearing out of the mist as they did. In short order, the titanic walls of metal slammed together, enchantments shimmering as if sentencing those within. The sight made him stumble with a revelatory realization, and Argrave held both hands to the metal door. After a moment, he started to laugh and turned around.
“Hahaha!” Argrave shouted, throwing his fist up. “Holy… god damn,” he stepped forth to Anneliese, who opened her eyes just as a golden bird perched on her shoulder. They both had the same idea—a hearty embrace, with a sweet and deep kiss of satisfaction following.
“How sweet,” a husky voice entered Argrave’s ears.
At once, it felt like a maggot had wormed its way into Argrave’s throat. He broke away from Anneliese and stared just beside him from whence the voice came. A bald man leaned his shoulder against the metal vault door, a wide grin on his face.
“Maybe my lecturing about love being a burden was a bit misguided. Very nice attempt. You certainly fooled Vera like nothing else, though I helped you out at the end there… went along with your scheme, got her inside the vault before quickly stepping out, just like you. How satisfying, seeing her locked away like she belongs,” the Magister took slow, steady steps forth. “But come now. Illusions are my domain. You think I wouldn’t be able to notice you could see my true body, Argrave? It’s hard to act like you can’t see something, Kinslayer, least of all for days on end.
“You think I wouldn’t do my research before I travelled with you?” Hegazar continued, gloating. “You think I wouldn’t know you’d contributed druidic magic to the Tower, that you might have… other actors, those animals of yours? A pretty bird, some little foxes… it’s certainly sly. The theatric with your snow elf retainer—amazing! I can see why Vera missed it. She used her people in the Tower to suppress mine, but I spent my time researching you. She’s used to betraying, but not being betrayed. I am, though.” Hegazar shook his head. “Commendable. But all that’s done, now.”
Argrave braced himself, waiting for the next move of the S-rank spellcaster.
Though Argrave was bracing to meet his maker, Anneliese put her hand on his shoulder. “You wear no illusion anymore, do you?” Anneliese inquired, with a voice that did not sound afraid at all.
Hegazar held his arms out. “In the flesh, but just as handsome. Maybe even more so,” the Magister mused.
The fact that nothing was happening made Argrave come alive once more. Discrepancies aligned, and he raced to a hypothesis. That hypothesis led Argrave to will himself to see the magic within the Magister. And what he saw within Hegazar was a great mass of magic, far beyond Argrave or Anneliese’s.
Hegazar’s magic was far beyond them… but also greatly diminished.
Veritable gears and cogs fell into place like a clocktower being set into motion in Argrave’s head. Hegazar had realized Argrave was seeing through his illusion magic… yet the Magister wasn’t certain how. As such, to guarantee he’d be able to fool Argrave, Hegazar cast illusion magic of a much higher grade than the one he commonly utilized. Apparently, even Master Castro had needed a few days to recover his magic after using an S-rank spell to use another, and that was a centuries-old spellcaster.
And now… could they kill Hegazar? Argrave didn’t have the Blessing of Supersession. He didn’t see the necessity to regain it—he never thought he’d stand a chance against either of these two with or without it, so he decided to rely solely on his abilities to manipulate them. With four of them—one C-rank mage, two B-rank mages, and Galamon with Ebonice and his Giantkillers… could they fight and win?
Maybe, Argrave came to the mental conclusion. Hegazar heard that we killed Induen, plus his four B-rank royal guards. I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing—maybe he can kill us. But with a vault full of valuables behind us, and a unified party of unknown strength… he wants to look for another solution. A cleaner solution. He’s gambled a lot to get a higher position in this negotiation. If I give it to him…
“So… partner,” Argrave straightened his back and stood up tall, yet did not relax. “That vault back there—it’s got an angry S-rank mage inside. I think I can help you with a little pest removal. I’d just need a little bit of your help, a little charity.”
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