Chapter 388: Rules of the Game

Argrave, without ceremony or significant announcement, departed to do his duty. It remained a daunting task, but ever since he’d decided to play out that act in front of the centaurs he abandoned any notions of fruitful cooperation with them. He dealt with Sarikiz, not them, and he needed only the centaurs’ unwitting assistance to rouse her from her slumber. On the return journey, however, he saw the scope of the war not as a participant, but as a survivor of it.

The Bloodwoods had been thoroughly devastated. The marching ants had eaten their way through roots and trunks both of the gargantuan trees, leaving unsteady or toppled redwoods everywhere they went. Corpses from both the mortal realm and those of Kirel’s realm had been scattered in abundance. Roving parties of invaders still persisted. They fled from Argrave’s party, perhaps trying to regroup to mount another offensive. It seemed like their communication had been cut off.

Along the way, however, an elven scouting party came upon them. They relayed some news—namely, that Nikoletta’s father had been recovered, with Duke Rovostar now slain. The surprise was somewhat mellowed by the urgency of the task he was attending to, but at Mina’s insistence and his own curiosity, Argrave agreed to regroup with Nikoletta before heading to the centaurs.

Anneliese quickly scouted ahead, finding his cousin’s party quickly and ensuring that no other dangerous obstacles awaited them. She confirmed what they had been reported—namely, that a blue-haired, pink-eyed man who answered to ‘Enrico’ was in their party. Given the small overlap in people sharing those features, it was safe to say that was their man. Argrave thought that fortune favored them, because their party seemed to be heading towards their by sheer coincidence.

Those thoughts of good fortune quickly died when they did meet up with Nikoletta.

Argrave followed behind Orion, walking into a clearing illuminated by dusk light where Nikoletta’s escort of elves and her father waited. When she laid eyes upon him she grinned brightly and happily, rather like someone who’d just won the lottery. Argrave smiled in turn, both at his cousin and Duke Enrico. It almost didn’t seem right that things should end up like this.

Nikoletta strutted up to him, saying all the while, “I can safely say I should never again doubt you.”

Argrave was about to give credit to the elves who escorted her. As he looked at their number, he double-took when he saw an A-rank mage with them—did the Supreme Myriarch really give away that much? And as his gaze lingered on the elf… pieces fit where they shouldn’t have, and recognition came where it ought not to.

Nikoletta gave Argrave a hug even as his eyes stayed locked on the elf ahead. Duke Enrico walked into view, too, battered, cut, and fatigued but undoubtedly alive. She said something grateful, but Argrave couldn’t focus on what she said.

“Was that man with you the whole way?” he interrupted her, his voice tense.

Nikoletta pulled away, confused. When she saw Argrave’s face, hers grew serious in turn and she followed his gaze. “That… yes, he was here. What’s…?”

Dimocles stood there, hands held behind his back as he smiled at Argrave easily. Though he wore elven armor, had elven ears, and elven blonde hair, the face was unmistakably that of Dimocles… the face, and also his rippling green-blue eyes.

“I came peacefully, Your Majesty,” he began, staying still and unimposing. “And I helped your cousin. Do you think Enrico would truly have been so easily found without my Lord’s help?”

“Polymorphism,” Argrave moved Nikoletta aside somewhat forcefully, and then walked forward. “I couldn’t get it from Anneliese’s description, but looking at your eyes now… that’s your A-rank ascension, isn’t it? Shapeshifting? No, don’t answer,” he shook his head. “So… it was you? Listening to us, spying on us? And now you disguise as an elf?”

Dimocles smiled a little wider. “Of course not. Mortal polymorphism cannot ever be so good as to imitate another flawlessly. I would need flawless memory of the person’s features, and flawless replication of that memory. Both together are an impossibility. And the eyes… you see they remain unchanged, so how could I fool you?”

Dimocles raised his hands up to point at his eyes, and Argrave prepared to fight him. The man froze, seeing Argrave’s caution. “Be at ease, Your Majesty. Like I told you… I come peacefully.”

Orion stepped up beside Argrave. “What is this?” he asked quietly.

“All that matters is that he works for Erlebnis,” Argrave answered. He shifted on his feet, and then looked back. Nearly everyone was here—Artur, Vasilisa, Anneliese, Orion, all of the Veidimen honor guard. This was as well defended as he’d likely get. And indeed, Dimocles stood there passively, doing nothing.

Argrave looked to Anneliese for an answer, a gauge of this man’s emotion. She looked as uncertain and anxious as he did, and then it came to him—last time, she’d said this man’s acting was inscrutable. That likely stemmed from his polymorphism. He looked back at a loss.

Argrave held his hand out. “You want to talk, let’s do it.”

Dimocles raised a brow. “How much do you wish to be public, Your Majesty?”

Argrave let his paranoia subside, finally accepting that this was no murder plot. Onychinusa would be better suited for that, or even more so Erlebnis’ countless emissaries. He walked forward, joined by Anneliese. Everyone looked terribly confused about this development. Orion tried to follow, but Argrave stopped him, shaking his head. He wanted to do this without worrying about how his brother might react to what he heard.

Once they walked near, Anneliese cast a ward to encircle them. As soon as all other sounds faded, Argrave asked, “What is this about?”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Dimocles said, his face turning dour. Argrave furrowed his brows, growing serious. “You… you’re not as smart as you think you are.” Dimocles started to laugh cheekily, then trailed off, saying, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You just looked so serious, I thought a little levity might help.”

Argrave felt a fool, letting himself get led around like that. “Hard to joke around when lives hang on the balance,” he retorted.

Dimocles tsk-tsked. “Argrave… the Lord bid I come here today to rid you of a burden. In reality, you were relieved of it some time ago, but I don’t think you were even aware.” He held his arms out. “Come now… even with the offering of Fellhorn’s medallion, you didn’t think getting audiences with gods was that easy, did you? Or maybe you did, hence my joke.”

“Can you kill the pompous act? It makes everything take so much longer,” Argrave stared him down.

Dimocles’ unfading smile slowly became a bitter one. “Alright. The last thing I would wish to do is make this meeting unduly combative.” He straightened his back and put his hands behind him. “I will lay out the facts. When Chiteng saw my Lord Erlebnis’ Blessing of Supersession on you, he thought you an envoy, perhaps even an unwitting one. With the threat of Kirel Qircassia looming overhead, he reached out. We established contact with Chiteng a short time after you ascended to A-rank.”

Argrave’s mouth parted as Dimocles continued. “You were looking very desperately for an informant, weren’t you? You seemed to think that Erlebnis knew your plans exactly. Well, you would be wrong. Rest easy—not a one of your men or women have betrayed you.”

“Chiteng did?” Argrave closed his eyes and lowered his head. “I… Christ, then he’s…?”

“Yes, Chiteng did. Did you believe he would allow you to so meekly pass over your Blessing of Supersession before his family if he did not also wish to hide it? Did you believe he would not care when he observed that you’d stolen these?” Dimocles reached into his sleeve, retrieving one of the purple fruits from the elven gardens.

“That…!” Argrave stepped forward.

“At ease,” Dimocles’ voice stopped him reassuringly. “The bulk of the fruits—twenty eight of them, in fact—made it precisely where you intended. The other one in the right hands, hidden. I think both of us would like it to stay in the right hands, as otherwise it might implicate you in something.”

“But the Supreme Myriarch had that delivered,” Anneliese noted, her calm somewhat rattled.

“Mmm,” Dimocles nodded, hiding the fruit once more. “Another… Myriarch Altan, her name was… she does work for the Lord. She took it upon herself to take care of that matter, as she believed you delivered something worth stealing.” Dimocles smiled.

“You mean to say that Chiteng turned on his family… and what did that get him?” Argrave questioned.

“Survival,” Dimocles answered. “For betrayal, he received survival. Fortunately, we’re all on the same side, Argrave—you, me, Chiteng, and everyone.”

“We are?” Argrave said. “I don’t even know what Erlebnis wants. You confront me like this, and then expect me to believe that?”

Dimocles looked at Argrave. “Hmm. May I please have a moment to think about how to respond to that?”

Argrave nodded hesitantly.

Dimocles closed his eyes, thinking deeply. Then, he opened them again, focusing. “You agree that stealing is wrong, Argrave, yes? Yet you stole Margrave Reinhardt’s horse to escape him, and then sold it for profit. I do not argue you are immoral, but rather that you are moral. You did these things to service a higher cause—putting an end to the Veidimen invasion of Mateth. And your journey in the Burnt Desert—masquerading yourself in service of the Lord of Copper was deceitful and dishonorable, but it was all in the service of honor.

“And your sister, Elenore…” Dimocles stepped forward. “I don’t think you would be surprised if I told you she’s killed hundreds for nothing more than profit. But you turn the other cheek, don’t you? Why? Because it’s all in the service of something right, something good. You’re fine with a little dishonesty. You can lie to make what you want happen, because you’re doing the right thing… and you know best.” He shrugged. “I say that not as a joke. You recognize me on sight. You know so much about this world. That’s why you expect people to suffer your dishonesty and even praise you for it afterwards. You know things, Argrave. You know things that make your opinion matter more than everyone else’s. And though you may disagree, you certainly act like it’s true.”

“All of that is a gross distortion of what truly happened,” Anneliese defended Argrave.

“Is it? I apologize,” Dimocles answered, though his gaze didn’t stray from Argrave. “Erlebnis wants one thing alone, Argrave. The continued existence of this world. And he knows so much about this world, and all of what comes…” Dimocles closed his eyes, and what seemed like true exaltation rose to the front. “By all I hold holy, he knows so much. Much and more. I have had but tastes of his insight, but with the small nugget vested upon me, I came to realize how ignorant I truly was.”

Dimocles focused on Argrave, sobered. “Chiteng and my Lord will slaughter all of the elven gods. They will be utterly consumed. This will be done as a favor to Kirel Qircassia, to earn the alliance of his coalition and his good grace in the fight ahead. Kirel is rather angry at you and your elven gods, and he does not forget faces. However… since you’re on our side, Argrave, Erlebnis will make his wrath go away. Indeed, you will become his benefactor and friend.”

“You mean…” Argrave turned his head to the side, looking to where he’d just left. “You’re going to aid Kirel in butchering everything living here?”

“No, Argrave, haven’t you been listening?” Dimocles smiled. “You are on our side. Those elves—though inconsequential to Him, they’re a valuable resource to your kingdom, and the Lord knows this. The Supreme Myriarch will die when the elven gods are slaughtered. Altan will seize command. She will ask her steadfast ally, King Argrave, to shelter her people. You will accept, kind-hearted sovereign that you are.”

“So long as I leave the elven gods to die,” Argrave stepped forward.

Dimocles looked up at Argrave, the two very close to each other. “Leaving? They’re likely already dead. It was an unavoidable tragedy. Please, don’t feel guilty, Argrave.” He sighed. “Let me put it this way. At the end of all of this, Argrave, you will gain many powerful allies. Though you are poised to make enemies of the Qircassian Coalition, all of that unpleasantness… will go away. Kirel Qircassia will call you his friend and seize nothing more than the Bloodwoods.

“All surviving elves will immigrate to your kingdom, strengthening it further,” Dimocles continued. “Are you worried about how people might take it? I implore, you think no further,” he raised a finger. “You’re a good king, Argrave. Everyone will know that. A variable appeared that you weren’t expecting, did things you couldn’t anticipate. They’ll know it’s not your fault. Altan will help them understand. From the moment you set foot in the Bloodwoods, you had no idea what you were walking into. You didn’t know the rules of the game you played.” Dimocles gave a consoling smile. “But I’m here to tell you that you aren’t playing alone. Isn’t it wonderful to have our Lord, Erlebnis, watching your back? He knows the rules of this game in and out. And just like you, he knows what’s best for everyone. Don’t you agree?”

Dimocles held his hand out for a handshake, almost as though to make a deal.