Argrave’s feet felt light, but his steps were still a little metaphorically heavy. Looking down at himself, he could tell his body and armor still bore the remnants of battle. Still, it felt a little wrong returning to people who’d been fighting for him while he was away in some mystical god’s realm. The cramped areas of the underground felt a little less confining than Erlebnis’ vault, but the walls might as well have been bearing down on him.

Argrave passed out from beneath the pathway. The dark sight was strangely comforting—when last they’d been here, Mozzahr’s Emptiness marred the open cavern like a declaration of his power. That it was absent now was like a token for their victory. Argrave stared into the abyssal darkness beyond for half a moment, and then continued onward to where his troops awaited.

The fortress was in far worse shape than it had been. There were large piles of cracked stone scattered over the previously immaculate courtyard, and Argrave saw tents where immobile people wrapped in blankets and bandages waited. Some he could tell were dead—it was strange, but there was something different about a body when it was dead, something beyond common perception. It was as though they lacked presence. Beyond the victims of this battle, everyone was tense and watchful, packed densely beneath cover while mages stood boldly.

Durran and Melanie emerged from the darkness, rejoining Argrave. Soon, their arrival drew the attention of the waiting soldiers, and rumors spread through the fort. Argrave expected it to be with a somber note; ‘the bastard king dares show his face here?’ That sort of thing. Instead… they started getting riled up. Not from anger—from excitement. And before long, cheers rang out, accompanied by jeers. Not jeers at him, rather, his troops taunted the enemy.

Argrave cast a puzzled glance back at Anneliese and Orion. The golden-armored knight, now largely recovered, gave Argrave a supporting nod, and then Anneliese led him along that they might stand upon the ramparts of the fortress and display themselves boldly before the enemy. There, Castro and Onychinusa stood, vigilant defenders against magical assault.

“Took you long enough,” Onychinusa looked at Argrave tiredly.

Castro’s eyes did not waver from the scene ahead as he said, “I think you’d best negotiate an armistice, Your Majesty. Your knight-commander, Galamon, sallied with a detachment to deal with a particularly ornery group. It went well, but even still… best end it now.”

Argrave nodded at the Tower Master’s words. “You did well.” Argrave looked back and shouted, “All of you did well. And I won’t forget this.”

Argrave stepped up to the fortress parapets, looking upon the abandoned dwarven city shrouded in darkness.

Argrave held out his hand, casting a spell that conjured forth a huge ball of light. It illuminated the city ahead, yet shone on Argrave strongest of all. “Your mortal leader is defeated,” he shouted, words coming to him quickly. “The man you thought a god was a mortal just as me. And where he faltered, I did not. Put down your arms, men and women of the Ebon Cult. Send your spellcasters forth, their hands bound. I am not without mercy, and your story needs not end here, miles underground. If you cooperate, you may see the surface. I urge you, surrender. Live to see sunlight, and your future.”

As Argrave looked out, people walked into view. These men and women… they’d been bold and strong, surrounding him in the heart of this city. Yet now they were defeated. The first of their weapons clattered to the ground as they accepted their fate.

#####

Argrave looked at Galamon as he entered into a humble room carved out of this fortress centuries ago. It was little more than a cot for soldiers, but it would suffice for this meeting. He’d talked to some of the soldiers, and they’d said how boldly Galamon had defended this place. Sallying from a siege was generally only done when there was no option, or when it was a very good option. He’d gone into the heart of danger, utterly dismantling the Ebon Cult’s primary attackers and looked no worse for wear.

“Your Majesty,” the elven commander greeted. “You’ve won.”

“Thanks to you, largely,” Argrave nodded. “Everyone is singing your praises.”

“No. The men know what you did,” Galamon shook his head. “This cult… they were monstrous fighters. The majority of our casualties occurred in the first half of the battle. But their power drained as that teal energy left their bodies.”

Argrave raised his brows in surprise. He supposed that explained the positivity. “And… how many died?”

Galamon removed his helmet, then set it aside. His white eyes were tired. “Too early. Need to count. One thousand, at the very least.”

Argrave sighed in dismay, closing his eyes and shaking his head. One thousand families that lost a member, all because he could not persuade Mozzahr with words alone, and instead dragged him away into Erlebnis’ realm by force.

“This is an exceptional victory, Your Majesty. Our forces were of equal strength, and we won without massive damage,” Galamon argued, his deep voice trying its best to be consoling.

“He’s right, you know,” Melanie supported, and when Argrave looked back Durran nodded in agreement.

Argrave looked up slowly. He didn’t want to insult Galamon—from what little Argrave knew of battle, it was an exceptional victory. Their opponent had shamanic magic, and yet they did this well. It was a miracle.

The metal door of the fortress opened behind and Argrave turned his head back. Anneliese and Onychinusa entered, bringing someone along with them. She was a white-haired elven woman, wearing purple and bound in chains. She was most similar in appearance to Onychinusa, though her shorter ears and paler skin marked her as one of the denizens of the underground. Argrave saw an owl mask in Anneliese’s hand, and identified the person at once—Mial, Mozzahr’s daughter.

Mial fell to her knees, and then hissed in pain. Argrave looked at Onychinusa, who’d shoved her. “Don’t do that,” he reprimanded.

“What?” Onychinusa said in loud protest. “She’s the enemy.”

“So were we, at one point,” Anneliese said tactfully. “She is defeated.”

Onychinusa crossed her arms defensively, and then stepped away without a retort.

Mial laughed. “Is this some show of your mercy, feigning kindness with theatrics?”

Argrave pulled a chair up and sat, then looked down at her. “I’d want a larger audience. Everyone here already likes me.” He glanced at Onychinusa. “Somewhat.”

“True…” Mial nodded, staring down at the ground. “But it doesn’t matter. There is only one person whom he would never reclaim his Emptiness from. And that is me.” She looked up. Her eyes were deep lavender. “I retain his power, even if only just. My father lives. Meaning… you lied, King Argrave.”

“I did bash his head against the wall a few times, and I’d say I definitely came out a winner. But you’re right, he’s alive. He’s like a damned cockroach.” Argrave nodded. “I dropped the closest thing to a nuke that I could, but he’s still kicking. But he still bleeds like you or me, and given where I left him… I don’t imagine he’ll last much longer.”

Mial looked off to the side. Anneliese looked at Argrave intently, and when he raised his brows, she nodded. Anneliese thought Mial was hiding something.

“You know something, don’t you?” Argrave pressed.

“No,” Mial shook her head.

“We both know you do,” Argrave insisted.

“She’s hopeful. I think his power has stopped fading,” Anneliese commented.

Argrave’s gaze flitted between them. “Is she right?”

“Why would I know that?” Mial protested.

“She knows,” Anneliese nodded. “I think it’s safe to say that Mozzahr escaped Erlebnis.”

Argrave narrowed his eyes. If that’s true… he’d have to exit the old-fashioned way—namely, the same way Erlebnis enters the mortal realm. He’d emerge where Erlebnis is descending. I’m not sure where that is.

“What have you brought me here for?” Mial’s eyes darted between all present. “A unilateral interrogation?”

Argrave crossed his legs. “Most interrogations are unilateral, right? Well, I won’t torture you for information, if that’s what you fear. I just want some information.”

“No,” Mial refused. “Never.”

“We have many other prisoners,” Argrave pointed out. “All I want to know is where Mozzahr kept his research about Gerechtigkeit.”

Mial focused on him. “Only that?”

“Only that,” Argrave nodded.

“I… suppose I can do just that,” Mial shook her head and looked at the ground, defeated. “What’s going to happen to the rest of us?”

Argrave rubbed his palms together. “I’ll have to keep the leaders imprisoned. If Mozzahr does genuinely live, and somehow manages a return, I can’t have his faithful, like you, talking him up. The rest… I’ll split them up, relocate them. Might be hard, but I can’t afford to keep a dangerous element combined as one unit. I’m friends with some real gods. I’m thinking… they might find their first converts in the Ebon Cult. Insidious, maybe, but safer.”

Mial looked up at him. “My father… I never believed he was a god. But I know he could become one. I know, in my heart of hearts, that he is part of the universe’s design. This will not go as you think.”

Argrave stood, pushing the chair away. “That’s the thing. It never has.”

#####

Argrave, Anneliese, and Orion walked through Blackgard, heading for a secluded grove of yet untouched by their furious designs for this city. The newly-born capital grew larger every day, adding yet more buildings with varying purposes. He was happy to see more elves among their number, both from Veiden and the Bloodwoods—many were here as traders, but it was a good start nonetheless. Blackgard was slowly transitioning from a capital in name to a capital in spirit.

They left the bounds of the city. There, a group of warriors waited, standing in a roof circle. At Argrave’s approach they rose, regarding him cautiously. These were all of the members of Hause’s court.

“I’d like to speak to Hause,” Argrave greeted them.

Sonia stepped up to Argrave, giving a whistle. Some of the people there stood down.

“Come with me,” she said, tense as though they were in a battlefield.

Argrave and his two companions walked with Sonia to where Hause waited. Anneliese whispered to him, “These people… I can scarce describe the feeling of loss and emptiness they feel. It will be hard for them to adjust to this new life.”

Argrave could not blame them. To fight the Smiling Raven, and then to be here—it was an impossible transition. And the only one who might shed some light upon their situation, Raven—the Alchemist—refused to come anywhere near them.

Hause waited, kneeling on the grass. She rose up when Argrave approached, her pink ceremonial garb stained with grass where her knees were. She looked youthful and innocent, and she gave a neat nod to Argrave.

“I appreciate you allowing me to reserve this area. My power is scattered throughout the world, but I can feel it returning day by day as I manifest more completely.”

“You’re welcome to this place as long as you like,” Argrave said. “I’ll be absent for a time. I need some time to recover. That heist… it left me with an injury. Even if I’m gone, my people will protect and watch over you. You’ll be taken to a safer place, soon, once I depart.”

Hause smiled. “I imagine you do not do this of charity alone.”

“I do have requests,” Argrave admitted without hesitation.

“As any ruler should,” Hause nodded. “I imagine you wish for me to look at your potential. If you do not… well, times truly have changed. I can assess your potential, but as for unlocking it, I am not yet fully manifest. And my power, well… we fought that beast, the Smiling Raven, mirrored by Erlebnis. What we fought was an imitation of it amounting to no more than a speck compared to the universe. I am hesitant to use it freely, but I can divine your potential if you so wish.”

Anneliese cut in, “May I ask something?”

“Please. You are my benefactor,” Hause gestured freely.

“If you knew Raven could become what he did, why did you help him?” Anneliese tilted her head innocently.

Sonia stepped up to Anneliese. “Don’t speak as if you know—”

“Sonia,” Hause interrupted her. “They were in Erlebnis’ realm. I imagine they know far more than we do,” she said pointedly.

“I-I…” Sonia’s words caught in her throat. “Raven is a good man. He’s…” She closed her eyes, suppressing tears.

“Take a walk, honey,” Hause said calmly, placing her hand on Sonia’s shoulder. When the young woman obeyed mutely, Argrave heard distant sobs finally released. Hause looked at Anneliese. “Potential is not realizing of that potential. I saw that Raven could be as much a force for good as he could be a disaster.”

“It was greed, then?” Anneliese asked with bold innocence.

“Hope,” Hause said distantly. “Just… hope. Hope that it might all end, without Gerechtigkeit ravaging the world. Hope that the fell power that consumed so many cities might instead protect them from the darkness. I… I fear my failure is all too fresh on the mind. In truth… I cannot dismiss my role in this.” She grew silent for a long while, then raised her head with some brightness returned. “But life is resilient, and it came in the form of your party, Argrave, Anneliese. Now—you wish me to examine your potential?”

Argrave scratched the back of his neck—it was a little like visiting a fortune teller, he felt. “I won’t lie—the idea does tempt me. I’d like you to disclose the results to my sister, however.”

“Oh?” Hause tilted her head. “Do you wish to spare yourself the pain of learning something you did not wish to know? That rather reminds of me of someone. He seems to be absent, today,” she mused.

Argrave knew she spoke about Raven. Hause seemed to be keeping quiet about him to her followers, but he wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“There are other considerations,” Argrave explained. “I—"

“I won’t pry,” Hause raised her hand and interrupted. “But… yes, I’ll help you. I, myself, am curious about what your potential will be. You already robbed Erlebnis, god of knowledge, and lived to tell the tale… so what more waits for you?”