Chapter 250: Weight of the Crown
Argrave gazed up at the pitch-black regalia. The set was enchanting enough to make him forget what Galamon had done not moments ago. The fact that a stand had been made to accommodate all its pieces hinted at the true value of it all. There was a spot for a scepter, bracelets, gloves, a ring, a ceremonial sword… much of that was gone, however, having been sold of centuries ago to sustain Rancor in times of poor management. The primary pieces remaining were the royal mantle and the crown.
The royal mantle was an ostentatious thing. The collar was black ermine, and even from here the fur appeared soft. The cloak proper was made of a flowing black silk, a snake of gold emblazoned on the back. It was giant, accommodated for someone of a similar height to Argrave.
The crown, though… its central band was a black metal, though it was concealed by gold at many points. Gold encircled each studded jewel—diamonds of various colors, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds all pushed its frame to the brink. Some of the jewels were the size of chicken eggs. Though this vault was filled with riches, they all paled before this single crown.
Argrave reached forward and took the crown. Everyone watched him, waiting to see what he would do. It made him far too self-conscious to genuinely put it on. He pulled off the mantle, too, putting it beneath the crook of his arm. When Argrave turned, Durran stared at him disappointedly.
“What?” Argrave frowned.
“Coward,” Durran declared, then shook his head and turned around.
Argrave felt insulted. His mind whirled for a comeback, and then he reached out and put the crown over Durran’s wyvern-scale helmet. The tribal jumped, and Argrave ensured the crown didn’t fall off his head.
“Hold that. You break it, you’re paying for it,” Argrave decided, then turned back to Galamon. “You alright, Galamon?” Argrave asked loudly, so that Elenore’s men who’d seen the scene could hear him clearly. “That knife—it possesses people. Probably turned those vampires crazy. I know how to handle it, don’t worry.”
Galamon’s head turned to him. Some redness remained in his eyes, yet they were fading back to white quickly. He gave a curt nod. “I’m… fine.”
Argrave grabbed beneath Galamon’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get you out of this place. The cleaners can do the rest. Here, have a drink.” He pulled free the flask at Galamon’s side and handed it to him.
Galamon took the flask and stared at it for a moment before drinking it like it was some foul swill. Once done, he closed his eyes, gathering himself. He stood straight once again.
“I’m fine,” Galamon repeated. This time, Argrave believed him a little.
#####
Argrave and his companions headed back to where Elenore was waiting, leaving her people to clean things up. He felt he’d demonstrated his prowess sufficiently. Durran walked with the crown in his hands, holding it gingerly and walking slowly like it was fragile glass.
Before they reached outside, Argrave stopped, looking around. He nodded towards Anneliese, and she conjured a ward for them to speak privately.
“Alright. That knife you held—I’m sure you curious about it,” he said to Galamon.
“You said that would happen. I tried to be ready… but it was stronger,” the elven vampire shook his head. “I apologize.”
“Don’t,” Argrave waved his hands. “This knife… a vampiric relic. Althazar, it’s called. It…” Argrave shook his head. “It partially actualizes the vampiric ‘beast’ you describe. Even being near it frenzied you somewhat. If you stab yourself in the chest… some of the dormant powers of your vampiricy awaken. Every ability you already have will be enhanced greatly—regeneration, strength, senses… and the side effects, too. They’re enhanced.”
Galamon lowered his head, eyes growing distant. “They were.”
“These vampiric relics were meant to enhance you as a vampire. They’re generally intended for those who intend to lean into their powers, rely on them more.” Argrave tapped at his chest. “Considering how much you hate that aspect of yourself, perhaps it’s best I hold onto it.”
“It’s useless. No, it’s worse than useless—it’s harmful. I’ve spent years reining this side of myself in…” The elven vampire lifted his eyes back to Argrave. “How will this cure me?”
Argrave stared back despite Galamon’s intensity, knowing his companion would not harm him. “This relic, in combination with others, can fully actualize the beast you have. If it’s made real, it’s somewhat separate from you. And if it’s separate, we can kill it without killing you. You’ll be cured—freed of the beast forever, made mortal once again. These relics will be rendered impotent. And… well, a bunch of other stuff will happen,” Argrave waved his hand, feeling now was not the time.
“I don’t like it,” Galamon growled.
Argrave frowned. “Well, it’s… I mean, there are other… what? Why?” Argrave asked, puzzled.
“No, not…” Galamon sighed. “Not your proposition. The knife. I dislike its mastery over me.”
Touching his chest where the knife rested, Argrave said, “I’ll keep Althazar hidden, fret not.”
“No. In time… at another date, I hope to train myself to resist it. I cannot afford to act as I did,” Galamon said determinedly.
Argrave looked to Anneliese for guidance, but she seemed just as undecided as he did. He looked back and said, “I hope you won’t be offended if I say I need to think about that.”
It did look like a difficult pill for Galamon to swallow. He stared back, then eventually sighed, seeming more disappointed in himself than anything. “You’re right.”
“Let’s get going. I don’t want to hold this million-gold exhibit any longer,” said Durran tensely.
Argrave looked back. He reached down and took the crown from his hands, then left behind the word, “Coward.”
#####
Argrave emerged from the catacombs a second time, some of the fatigue of the battle finally settling in. He had taken the lead role in most of this, largely by his own design. If Elenore had an adequate grasp of his abilities, she would be able to manipulate things in their favor better. He would need her to be at her best, and people functioned at their best when they had as much information at their disposal as possible.
Elenore waited not as nervous as she had been the last time—their departure had taken some time, and Argrave supposed news had already reached her of what had occurred within. Flanked by his companions, he stepped up before her.
“We went through, cleared them out,” Argrave reported. “They hid in a vault, but we managed to get them out without incident. Not sure how many casualties, but… not many. Not on our side, at least.” Argrave held the crown up a little higher. “Got a crown, a royal mantle. You might see how these items help bolster our cause.”
Elenore crossed her arms and nodded. “Of course I do.” She tapped her foot against the ground, then suggested, “Let us take a walk.”
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