“...and that's all I can say about Fellhorn,” Argrave told Elenore, giving advice to Melanie through Elenore as he and Raccomen made to confront Erlebnis. They intended to fight him outside the Palace of Heaven, as it kept him from interfering with the operations within and, if all went well, they might turn the Stormfield against him.
He continued advising, “And the lich, his phylactery... it's hidden within a stuffed animal: a black bear, with big floppy ears. That's all I have, Elenore. No communication henceforth. Need no distractions.”
“Good luck,” his sister told him in parting. Then her voice was no more, and Argrave stood on the empty walls of the Palace of Heaven with Raccomen beside him.
The deity asked, “You’re done?”
“Yeah,” Argrave answered.
“I’ll keep it brief.” Raccomen played with the decadent rings on his fingers. “Erlebnis knows he’s outmatched. He’s given up on winning the fight.”
“You’re sure of this?” Argrave narrowed his eyes.
“He’s using his divinity to empower his attacks. He wants to leave nothing left for his foes. The god I killed for my domain did something similar.” Raccomen stroked his chin. “Eventually, though, our god of knowledge is going to get too weak to resist both of the ancient gods wearing him down. It’s our job to make sure his killer is someone on our side.”
“We all agreed that Law should inherit that power. His domain compels him to be our most steadfast ally,” Argrave pointed out.
“We did agree it would be best for all involved,” Raccomen confirmed. “But we should be happy simply if Sataistador doesn’t claim it.”
“So that’s your angle, volunteering to help me.” Argrave fixed him with the side-eye. “Whatever. If it plays that way, it plays that way. This is a partnership, not a subordinacy. Just don’t end up dead, like Rook.”
“Like Rook?” Raccomen laughed—a new noise from the god of space. “I won’t end up like him at all. The god with mastery over space—it’s a coveted title. It could be said that few other domains are its equal. For that reason, my champion, Melanie, has proven her worth countless time.” He looked at Argrave. “For this reason, the gods of space are often killed by those seeking to claim their domain. I’m the youngest of the gods in the Blackgard Union... yet throughout history, I’m still the oldest god of space. Does that make sense?”
“This is you being brief?” Argrave shook his head. “You’re a tough guy, I get it. What’s your point?”
“Not tough. But like you, I don’t often fight when I cannot win. Now—let’s wait for our opportunity.” Raccomen put his hand on Argrave’s shoulder. “I hope you’ve mastered your stomach. Elsewise, you’ll lose whatever’s within it, I promise you.”
Argrave inhaled, preparing himself for a long and protracted fight. “Why’s it taking so long, anyway? Thought the man had a grudge...”
#####
Sataistador paused, then pointed his finger. “You’re going to try something devious, aren’t you?”
Erlebnis nodded. “Yes. I want to make Argrave suffer. Death alone isn’t the only way one can go about such a thing. Grief is painful. Despair is painful. I’ve learned a lot about suffering, in my long years.”
“You could ruin both of our chances.” Sataistador put his hands on his waist. “I ought to take my chances, keep fighting you, your blathering be damned. Ought to call your bluff.”
“Do it, whore of war.” Erlebnis beckoned Sataistador inward. “Try me. It’d be worth it, just to see your arrogance break, to see you throw a tantrum and land face down in the mud right alongside me. Misery loves company. Perhaps you’ll know what it is to hate something, as I do.”
Sataistador’s stared into Erlebnis’ golden eyes, taking their measure as the Stormfield raged all around them. Then... he turned and walked away.
#####
“It’s good they’re taking so long,” Raccomen comforted. “More time for our people to get a hold of the Stormfield. Once the Stormfield falls, we don’t need to have the Justiciars spread out, protecting the army. Law can fight without restraint.”
“Hell with ‘it’s good,’” Argrave disagreed. “They’re talking, Raccomen. Two backstabbers, consorting, maybe getting into bed with one another. I don’t like it.”
“We were always prepared for the possibility that Sataistador might change sides. We control the whole of the Great Chu, and provided our counterparts do their part well, we now control its strongest fortress. If that isn’t enough, and if it comes to it, we could always...”
“Retreat,” Argrave shook his head. “When we’re inside the damned fortress. A bitter pill.”
One of Law’s Justiciars knelt before Argrave, and its god spoke through it. “The god of war has spent too much time scheming to move on offered whims. Siding with Erlebnis—who we’ve put on the backfoot—is contrary to his nature. Sataistador, above all, wishes to win.”
Argrave caressed his forehead, feeling some rising unease. Then, he felt Raccomen’s hand on his shoulder.
“Erlebnis returns,” the god of space declared. “And Sataistador, he’s... leaving.”
Argrave looked up, seeing a lone figure stalk through the Stormfield. The steam covered much of his advance, but Argrave saw him in a moment of clarity.
“The god of war is a hypocrite, a coward, and a dumb whore,” Erlebnis called out. “He’s mocked me for countless years about clinging to my divine servants, my realm, my vault. In the end, he has things that he refuses to relinquish just like the rest of us. He has possessions he’d move to protect, interests to preserve.”
Argrave prepared himself, looking to Raccomen for guidance. The god of space stared through the steam, alert and ready.
“Just us, now. No more vultures.” Erlebnis stopped walking. “Just me, with the company of all I’ve learned through the millennia. And you, Argrave, with whatever’s swimming around in that head of yours.”