Jackal Among Snakes

Many divine realms or places like the Shadowlands had specific rules to them. The realm that was host to the elven gods of the Bloodwoods ensured that all inside its boundaries had bounteous life springing from within them that would heal all of their wounds. Almazora’s realm gave all within it magic without limit. There were exceptions like Erlebnis’ realm, but most did have such quirks. Law’s Court was not one of the exceptions. As a matter of fact, it was one of the most noted examples.

“How would Law’s Court change the perspective of the gods?” Anneliese’s curiosity interrupted Argrave’s deep thoughts as he weighed the pros and cons.

Argrave walked to the window of Elenore’s office, watching the busy docks of Blackgard. “You saw me place the Domain of Order over the whole of this city. It ensures a level of cooperation and peace that few other cities can compare to. To be frank, it’s the only reason why we’ve been able to welcome refugees of such disparate cultures without massive unrest. It creates a uniform, unbiased authority. And best yet, the Domain of Order is only as strong as the people want it to be. If they hated the laws I’ve imposed, it would shatter. But they don’t, so it’s as strong as it’s ever been.” He looked back to Elenore and Anneliese. “What does that tell you about Law?”

“It’s a rather neutral power. I believe you’ve stated as much in the past.” Anneliese leaned against Elenore’s desk and crossed her arms.

“And that’s somewhat how his divine realm is used. In Law’s Court, different parties can enter into an agreement. While is his court, they will be bound by this agreement absolutely, compelled by his power to hold up their end of the arrangement. Whether god or mortal—even if it’s Law himself—they must obey.” Argrave turned around and stared intently to stress the importance of this fact.

He walked around the room as he continued to explain. “It’s the ideal place for many, many disputes to resolve themselves. Most often, it’s used for trials in massive organizations. If you promise to be fair, Law will compel you to be fair; if you promise not to deceive, the same. If you say that you won’t leave until a matter is settled, you will be bound to that plane until you fulfill that vow or cease to be.”

Elenore sighed and planted her arm on the desk. “A nightmarish place for someone like you, Argrave.”

He laughed through his nose. “No kidding.”

“How do you compel fairness? That’s rather subjective,” Anneliese said, contemplating.

“There are third parties one can rely on—and if none are suitable, Law’s Court provides. Do you remember those knights we saw descend on the northern beaches? White-gold armor, rather featureless and resplendent?”

Elenore hadn’t seen them, but Anneliese remembered and at once said, “The Justiciars.”

“They fit their title, yes. Three or more Justiciars could preside over a trial, depending on how many parties are putting forth opposing ideas—one for each perspective represented, and one to remain neutral and observe facts impartially.” Argrave gathered his thoughts as he ran his hand across his face, then continued, “I’ll admit, they’re well-suited for handling these things. They have millennia of experience. To that end, most rely upon Law’s Justiciars. It’s much easier than getting someone intimately acquainted with the situation and trusted by all parties.”

“It does present some dangers,” Anneliese agreed, amber eyes rolling about as she thought hard. “Like Elenore said… a nightmare for you, Argrave. They could compel you to be honest. Even I have some trouble doing that.”

Elenore nodded and stared up at Anneliese. “He couldn’t even omit facts. Poor thing. Imagine how the stress would get to him…”

“Look who’s talking. You’ve got so many schemes going your brain would probably melt.” Argrave shot at Elenore in good-nature, and the three of them shared a moment of amusement. “But you’re not wrong. If we leak Sandelabara, or worse yet, Sophia, all of our efforts to do this subtly will turn to dust. That’s why I’m wondering if there’s not another way.”

“We can set the rules of engagement, can’t we?” Elenore asked.

Argrave nodded. “Yeah. But the thing I’m worried about—"

“If we set rules that are too stringent, we risk giving something away, or worse yet, inspiring further distrust,” Anneliese interrupted as she grasped what Argrave was thinking.

Elenore thought long and hard, then looked at Argrave. “Could we win without the other gods?”

“Yes?” Argrave said, somewhat unsure. “We could call in favors from the Bloodwoods and get the elven gods on board. We bring those from the Blackgard Union I know would be willing, and we just might win—assuming Sataistador and Emperor Ji Meng are kept firmly in line, which promises to be a lot to ask. But that’s the thing—from the beginning, we’ve wanted this to be a lot more than scraping by.”

“Mmm. We need a decisive victory if we’re to become the leaders of the bold new world that lacks the Qircassian Coalition and Erlebnis…” Elenore scratched at her forehead. “Well, things are simple, aren’t they? We need to establish firm boundaries while not appearing to obfuscate anything.”

Argrave raised his brows in surprise. “You really think it’s worth it to go?”

Elenore nodded. “At worst, we can leave if they ask a hard question. It would severely damage relations, but I think that it’s something we can mend given time. The worst they can call us is an ambitious and ruthless conqueror hoping to defeat two ancient gods.”

“They may push to make it so we cannot leave before giving the information they desire,” Anneliese argued. “I certainly would, in their shoes. I understand why we act as we do, but I cannot deny it would unease me if, say, Raccomen intended to invade someone with someone very untrustworthy, yet would not disclose the details. Am I alone in this?”

Argrave looked at her. “Good point. Almost like you’re an empath or something.”

“So… will we go?” Elenore questioned.

“Want to consult the others, but I’m leaning toward it. I think they will, too.”

“Who will you bring?” Anneliese asked. “For something like this… smaller may be better. Fewer people means fewer points of weakness for the gods to prod.”

Argrave pondered that. “I’m not sure. Melanie always seems to do something that works out in our favor, and she’s proven able to tell gods to eat dirt. You and Elenore are probably the most persuasive people, though.”

“Most persuasive perhaps after you,” Elenore shook her head. “Why not go alone? It would send a powerful message. And I am in your head, always.”

“But I like going with Anneliese,” Argrave narrowed his eyes.

“Would you like to die together, fighting Gerechtigkeit?” his queen reminded him practically. “Forgive me, but I wouldn’t.”

The more that Argrave considered it, the more sense it seemed to make. As the last bit of resistance drained from his body, he sighed as a new burden settled upon his shoulders. “Alone, huh? What’s it they say… only a fool represents himself, or something to the effect? Well, fine. If you two are comfortable placing the fate of the world with me, I can only humbly bow and jump to the snap of the whip,” he flourished his hands.

“Just go consult the others,” Elenore huffed.

#####

Argrave stood alone in Merovin, the domain that Raccomen had claimed per their arrangement. It was a towering gateway constructed from the flesh of one of the god’s Architects. Argrave had been present when the creature quite literally tore itself apart to build this gateway, signing its name in blood upon the top. Thereafter, this land inherited his name, the great gothic gateway in the center of this vast steppe bearing ‘Merovin’ in bloody red.

He had consulted with the rest of his confidants, and most of them were in agreement that this was the ideal path forward for their goal. Argrave was frankly shocked how many of them enthusiastically agreed with the notion that he should go alone. He expected that sort of unilateral support from Orion, but nearly everyone expressed the same sentiment. If not for that, he probably would have brought Anneliese.

Word had been delivered to all of the other gods in the coalition using Lira’s exceptional ability of communication. She seemed pleased that Argrave had taken her up on the advice. Now, one of Raccomen’s servants would come to escort him through the realm of the god of space. Law’s Court was not too far of a journey, he was told.

As Argrave watched, one of the gargantuan lizardmen that he’d seen before as Raccomen’s delegate emerged from the gateway. The divine servant took quick, heavy steps toward Argrave, and inclined his shark-like head in a polite bow once he came near.

“I have come to bring you and your party, Argrave. Am I to wait for others?” His voice, as with the last, came from nowhere at all. It simply manifested in Argrave’s head.

“It’s me alone,” Argrave gestured. “Lead on.”

The lizardman looked at him closely in what might’ve passed as surprise, then gave a word of affirmation and led him onward. Argrave felt his stomach whirl as nervousness brewed. He never felt nervous giving speeches in front of others—instead, he felt most nervous in the time before the speech. And now, that had come in full force.

When Argrave passed beneath the large stone gateway, he felt a strangely pleasant sensation as the force of gravity left him. Then, he was afloat in an infinite nothingness, his only companion the lizardman and distant, twinkling stars. Instinct told him to hold his breath, but he found the air still functioned here.

“See you the golden star?” The lizardman pointed. “That is the gateway to Law’s Court.”

Argrave looked at him. “Are we to use spirits? That’s…”

“Of course not,” the lizardman shook his head. “Simply move there. I shall demonstrate.”

The lizardman oriented his body, and then was gone. Argrave looked at the distant star, but saw nothing. Move there? How?

Despite his confusion, the moment Argrave tried to move, he did. The vastness of space compressed down into nothing more than a single step, and Argrave felt a wave of nausea assail him. He was complete certain he had travelled millions of miles in a second. Another gateway much the same as the one he’d come from stood before him. Beyond it, a world of gold awaited. Argrave drifted into this gateway, then felt the ordinary weight of the world return. His feet again met solid ground. He looked up and around, taking in this new divine realm.

Law’s Court was a giant, complex building, that had neither entrance nor exit. There was order to it—structure. If someone paid attention, they could find their way around this place without any trouble. That didn’t change the fact it was the single largest building Argrave had ever been in. It was stately, dignified, and the stone was all a rich gold that soothed any who looked. Written upon the walls, the floors, the ceilings, was a code.

This entire building was built of Law’s Code. It served to restrain him in this realm, that he might never act against any who enter this plane without sufficient and codified reason. He was rather unlike most deities in that outside his realm, he was unrestrained, while within, he was bound tighter than any other. He was impartiality, neutrality.

He was Law.

Argrave could see the lizardman that came with him no longer, but soon felt pounding footsteps. Eight gargantuan suits of armor without occupants aside from a glowing gold inside walked through the halls of Law’s Court. They bore swords that had their hilts fashioned in the image of a scale. Their mere presence was intimidating, but Argrave stood firm as they surrounded him.

“King Argrave of Vasquer. You have been requested to participate in a trial,” an even voice called out from all of them at once. “If you desire, we shall escort you to the requester.”

It seemed that the gods of the Blackgard Union had wasted no time in establishing the meaning of this visit. Argrave raised his hand and pointed down the hall. “Let’s go.”