Jackal Among Snakes

Anneliese gazed into eternity as it watched her, passing judgment in terms that she couldn’t comprehend or codify. Eternity, unlike its appearance, was rather similar to how Argrave described the suns. Anneliese could tell that it was alive, but it didn’t quite fit into the category. It was a fundamental being, an essence of the universe—or perhaps many universes. In this unusual, out-of-body state, she could perceive and interact with it.

By now, she figured things out. Hause’s power had been insufficient to help her take control of eternity. Considering the scope of the power that she felt, perhaps it could be no surprise that a mere god couldn’t tame it. This thing’s existence was so significant that Anneliese felt it could make Gerechtigkeit himself utterly irrelevant were the two ever to meet.

It was for that reason that Anneliese felt infinite curiosity and desire.

Hause claimed that all she did was unlock the innate potential that people carried within them. It stood to reason, then, that Anneliese might be able to unlock hers even without the help of the goddess. She had been brought here—from Anneliese’s perspective, that was the difficult part. But now that she gazed upon eternity itself… she allowed the part of herself that she’d largely tamed to bubble up into her mind unburdened.

Anneliese allowed the emotion of curiosity to rule her action.

Her eyes scanned the depths of this eternal existence. No matter how far they wandered, or how closely they scrutinized, there was never an end in sight. In time, her moments of silent scrutiny led her to hear the noises of eternity. It was quiet at first, but as she strained her ears she began to cry. Not just from pain, mind—from joy, elation. Anneliese heard every song that ever was, from the grandest symphony to the most heart-wrenching ballads, wrapped up all in one.

And having seen only two facets, she knew she had to see more.

#####

“She’s crying!” Argrave shouted, kneeling down before Anneliese’s figure, slumped in her chair. “Why is she crying? Hause? Explain!”

“Yeah. Anything that makes you cry.” Argrave ran his fingers through his hair. “No, no, no. She’ll be fine. Come on. This is Anneliese. This is Anneliese we’re talking about. She can’t leave me. Just won’t happen.”

#####

Anneliese reveled in the ambrosia of all sensations emanating outward from eternity, and every second she did, came to better understand the magnitude of the entity she was dealing with. Like all professions, rather than feel she understood, everything she learned about eternity only served to educate how much she didn’t know.

Endlessness. It was impossible for a mortal to comprehend. The more that Anneliese tried, the more she comprehended that she couldn’t comprehend it. To hold this vastness within her body, to wield it as a tool… it seemed ridiculously laughable. At best, she could become part of it. At worst, she would be destroyed utterly beneath its majesty.

Yet… despite this, Anneliese still tried. The continued discovery of her own ignorance wasn’t a deterrent—rather, it acted as the fuel for her engine of perpetual motion. Her mind felt as though it was expanding as exponentially as eternity did. To comprehend this galactic existence, her mind became a galaxy unto itself, drawing motion from eternity just as the planets moved by gravity. Its existence was formidable enough that it propelled hers unto greater heights.

Then, finally, as if in a dream… all motion in her mind faltered, and all her thoughts died as they reached their inevitable destination. She didn’t need eternity. She would be crushed beneath its largesse, lost in its vastness. She lacked the capability—no one could truly tame eternity. But then… she didn’t need to.

After all, a fraction of eternity was still an eternity.

If she claimed one small part, one infinitesimally small piece, she would’ve claimed eternity itself. For no matter how many times eternity is divided, it remains eternal—such is its power. And with this thought and mind, she slowly raised her hand up toward it. Delicately, like plucking an apple toward a tree, she craned to grasp eternity.

Anneliese waited, waited. Eternity was endless, infinite. She couldn’t claim it on her own. But then, she didn’t need to. In the realm of infinite possibilities, a segment of eternity had already embraced her, already accepted her as its master. And when, finally, she came to this conclusion… a single spark of infinity leapt out, toward her grasping hand.

Anneliese seized eternity, accepting its acceptance.

#####

Anneliese spasmed and sat up, inhaling deeply and grasping at things around her. As if by instinct, her hand grasped Argrave’s own. He beamed brightly.

“See, Hause?” He looked at her. “I was never worried. Not for a second.”

Hause sighed. “Yes, right. You were never worried.”

“Stop lying, Argrave,” Anneliese said, panting exhaustedly. “Perhaps, now, you have some taste of what I experience every time you do something.”

Argrave clenched her hand. “This was different.”

“Is it?” Anneliese shook her head. “You just killed yourself not an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well…” Argrave sighed. “You’re alright. And that’s what matters. This was a mistake.”

“No,” Anneliese disagreed. “It wasn’t a mistake.”

Hause looked infinitely awed as she studied Anneliese. “Did you…?”

“Yes,” Anneliese declared, rising to her feet. “I did.”

“Did what?” He looked between her and Hause. “What did you do?”

Anneliese felt the Spark of Eternity coursing through her body—the smallest fragment of eternity, which was an eternity unto itself.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Anneliese said. “To you… and Gerechtigkeit.”

#####

It all began with a gargantuan ball of fire that erupted from the fortified city of Blackgard. At first, people paid it little mind, because similar attacks had been pouring out of the city since this day-long battle had begun. It soared through the air, heading to where Gerechtigkeit fought with the god of justice, Law. His golden figure had been battered substantially, and it was clear he was on the losing end of the fight… yet still he stood, and that proved to be all that mattered. ŔἈＮƟ𝐛Ёṥ

Eventually, this tremendous fireball struck Gerechtigkeit’s flesh, impacting a chitinous portion of his ever-shifting body. In normal course, it would’ve exploded and its force would’ve dissipated, but moments later proved this spell would deviate very far from what was normal. The spell persisted, boring down as furiously and fiery as it had been when it first left the mountain at Blackgard.

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The force and pressure from this continuous S-rank spell began to dig into Gerechtigkeit deeply enough that he took notice of it. It pushed into his body as if compelled by a magnet hidden in his guts, and no amount of resistance or defense seemed liable to change its course or make it dissipate. In the end, it was the calamity that yielded long before this spell did—he twisted his gargantuan, formless body out of its path, and let it carry on with an undeniable look of bewilderment. Only then did the magic within the spell falter—and only because its caster had unbound the spell.

Anneliese bounded down from the mountains of Blackgard in floating leaps, letting the enchantments of the white coat crafted by Artur carry her gently down. Already, what looked like tens of thousands of eye golems burst free of Gerechtigkeit’s flesh and pursued her. The calamity itself paid closer attention to her, made cautious by the display of power.

Those fell eye golems swarmed in numbers enough to hide the starry night sky above, but Anneliese arrived at the foot of the black mountains with relative calm about her face. Another mana ripple spread from her right hand, and she cast a single spell at all who came. The famed S-rank spell [Chain Lightning] erupted from her hands. Most spellcasters in the world would tell you the spell was supposed to hit a target and then strike another, halved in power until it became so small it was reduced to mere static.

Anneliese’s [Chain Lightning] never lost power, no matter how many it hit.

In one moment, there was a horde of Gerechtigkeit’s revolting children threatening her position. In the next, a curtain of electricity consumed the sky as her spell spread between every foe encroaching upon her. It sounded like a thousand lightning strikes all at once, and it looked like the wrath of heaven had emerged from her fingertips. It only ended when Anneliese made the spell stop. All that remained was a fine black mist, flowing upward toward the sky.

Gerechtigkeit broke away from his engagement with law with the animalistic ferocity of a gorilla, pounding across the earth in what Argrave had called his ‘liquid form,’ where his body was formless yet weaker than it would be later. Anneliese stood her ground, merely preparing another spell in her left hand. When she unleashed it, another bolt of lightning bridged the gap. The body of the calamity was beset by an electricity that never faded. It conducted through his body, the air, and all the ground he walked on indefinitely. It seemed ravaging and painful, yet the calamity never faltered even as it ate away at his body.

A colossal stinger rocketed toward Anneliese when the calamity was still a mile away. Anneliese cast a simple, wide-range F-rank warding spell designed to block out sound and nothing more. The moment she did, the lightning stopped rampaging through Gerechtigkeit’s form. Emboldened, Gerechtigkeit sent more attacks her way—lunging snake bites, spiked tails, swarms of insects….

The paper-thin curtain of warding magic spread out slower than the stinger coming to strike it… yet when the two met, it was the stinger that shattered,folding inward on itself. The force of the attack was so immense that it was crushed by its own power upon meeting with the ward. When the dozens of other attacks caught up, they, too, came away having broken themselves like eggs against a wall.

Gerechtigkeit slowed somewhat as he neared Blackgard—the mountains possessed enchantments recreated in the image of the Palace of Heaven in the Great Chu. The closer an enemy came, the fiercer they were repelled by an invisible force. The craftsmanship was such not even the calamity could fully resist it. Still, the entire weight of his form came slamming down on Anneliese’s feeble-looking F-rank ward. His horrific teeth gnashed, predatory claws pried, inhuman hands dug, and base flesh raged… yet it had the same effect as a single feather against a wall steel. Anneliese’s ward held.

In the end, others arrived long before that thin, pathetic F-rank ward had a single dent or crack. Law, shadowed by other gods freshly joining this fight, engaged Gerechtigkeit from the back. In response, his hideous form bounded away from Anneliese and Blackgard with tremendous momentum, landing a great distance away. Anneliese, having entirely predicted his flight, had already cast another spell. A guillotine of ice took shape above, then descended on the spot where he’d fled.

Gerechtigkeit tried to dodge, but the mass of him was huge and the other gods interfered. In the end, the cleaver of ice slammed down upon him from above. Every moment he attempted to resist it was another that the ice dug into his form, freezing blood and cutting flesh at the same time. In the end, he was forced to sacrifice part of himself to retreat, losing a not-insignificant portion of his flesh.

The calamity, He Who Would Judge the World, collected itself as its foes similarly took the brief moment of reprieve to get into a better formation. There was something that it—that everyone—recognized. The scales of the battlefield had tipped with the arrival of one person. Most knew this person, and those that didn’t were shortly made aware.

Anneliese, queen of Vasquer, daughter to Patriarch Dras, and the now-undisputed best spellcaster in the world stood in defense of her world and her dream for the future.

#####

“It’s everything I hoped for,” Argrave said with a tremendous degree of relief flavoring his tone. They stood on the mountains of Blackgard, watching down below. “What’s happened to her? What’s changed, exactly? This won’t hurt her, will it?” He looked at Hause.

Hause, once a young-looking blonde woman, retained the wizened features that Argrave had seen her possess when that golden spectral form left her body. Apparently, helping Anneliese had taken a tremendous amount out of her. She’d claimed that the repercussions for unlocking someone’s potential hadn’t been this severe since she’d done so for Raven. It spoke of the tremendous aptitude she’d brought out from within Anneliese.

“With my help…” Hause said, watching the battlefield with nervous eyes darting every which way. “Anneliese reached into the tapestry of eternity. She touched time itself, and managed to pull free a single fragment of eternity. Yet… do you have any idea what that means? Even a mere fragment of eternity is itself an eternity.”

“Yeah… yeah, sure. I understand.” Argrave nodded. “Half of infinity is still infinity. But will this hurt her—or anyone else, for that matter? We’re not going to be jumping through time, the world’s not going to end…?”

“She should be fine,” Hause said, shaking her head. “As for the rest of us… I don’t know. I simply don’t know. She could destroy the world with imprudence.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Argrave protested.

“From what I can see, she now carries that spark of eternity inside her very being. She’s made it her own, and that spark follows her orders absolutely.” Hause gestured down the mountain, where the fight had stagnated somewhat as both sides adjusted to the shifted balance. “You’ve seen the results for yourself. She can imbue any spell she wants with that spark—and until she recalls it, that spell never falters, never fades. With perhaps one use of earth magic, she could create tremors that upend the entire world.”

“She can clearly control it.” Argrave leaned down, peering at the fight. “She’s caused not a single bit of collateral damage.”

“Let’s hope she chooses to keep it that way,” Hause said in exhaustion. “Because I fear I’ve unleashed another monster upon the world. If she can imbue things other than spells with it…”

“What’re you worried about?” Argrave looked at her. “Indestructible objects? Invincible people?”

“Eternity is something that no one person was ever meant to possess. It’s unimaginable.” Hause sighed. “I can only hope that power vanishes once you figure out a way to travel through that wound in the world.”

“You sound very confident I actually will do that.” Argrave looked up at the crack in the sky. “Is it Anneliese’s ability, or something else that’s spurring that?”

“Erlebnis coveted my power because it was the closest thing to telling the future anyone has ever achieved,” Hause said in reminder. “Potential is that which someone could possess in the future. That’s what it is, fundamentally. Meaning… both Anneliese and Raven might’ve achieved this display of power without my help, given enough time. They might not have. Few people actually realize their full potential. I merely facilitated the process.”

“And?” Argrave pressed.

Hause looked at him, but it was more than that—it was like she was looking into him, through him. “Now that I’ve spent some time with you, I can see your potential shifting, changing. It isn’t because it’s becoming different; it’s because it’s nearing completion. It’s because you’re realizing your potential on your own.”

“What?” Argrave scoffed. “I don’t feel any different.”

“If you consider that your potential is judgment, it makes sense that it might coincide with an event coming soon.” She looked toward the wound. “It might make sense that you’d realize your potential when you hunt down Gerechtigkeit’s true body and eliminate him entirely.”

Argrave blinked. He didn’t especially like prophecies. They made him nervous. “If this is some elaborate pretext to back out of the deal…”

“Anneliese took a great deal out of me—you can see that much, I think,” she said as she grabbed at some wrinkles on her face. “It’ll take time for me to help you. If I recover my power enough, I’ll unlock your potential. I won’t renege.” Again, her eyes seemed to look through him. “Yet what I see tells me you’ll realize it on your own long before I intervene.”

Hearing that, Argrave felt a strange feeling. A responsibility, a burden, pressing down on him, moving him forward. He didn’t like the idea that any of this was all preordained. Only one thought gave Argrave comfort.

If his power was truly judgment… maybe he genuinely did decide how this all ends. Free of fate, free of the whims of higher powers, free of every malignant influence. Just himself, what he’d done, and who he was.

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