One of these days the gambles will backfire, but it is not this day. This day you hit the jackpot (if you count losing an eye and suffering multiple painful burns worth whatever it is you get in return).
***
Chapter 7.14: The Wolf's Question
The axe was in a chest, lying among other assorted tools of a decidedly sharp and terrible nature. You could guess what they were for. You grasp the wooden handle and lift the instrument of chopping up. It was hefty in your hands. As you take a swing or two for practice, you head back towards Jannik and the servile young prince. Keeping your emotions tightly under control, you nonchalantly whip the axe at Jannik's neck - at least, where his head met his body. To your slight surprise, it hits home, biting deep into the great rolls of fat with little resistance. Blood spatters over you and red froth gurgles from Jannik's lips. His eyes roll back upwards into his head. Thinking it was over, you relax your grip on the axe slightly. You are immediately proved wrong as a stream of fire sprays from Jannik's outstretched hands and sets you alight. You scream and fall backwards, dropping to the floor to smother the flames.
With a deep, low groan akin to that of an angry bull, Jannik rises to his feet swiftly, surprisingly nimble for his bulk. His eyes were blood red in the light of the fire. He charges at you, fists raised, his footsteps thundering on the wooden floor. Panicking, you focus your telekinesis on his feet and trip him with a well aimed attack. Jannik stumbles, takes another step, and trips - falling right onto you. Unable to move away in time, you are crushed beneath his massive body. The flab flows over your face, smothering your nose and mouth. He struggles to get up, rolling to and fro over you. As you scrabble to get away from under him, your hand finds a grip on the axe still stuck in him. Using it as leverage, you pull and push with all your might. With a wet, tearing noise, it jerks free of the soft flesh it had been mired in, spraying more blood and fat all over you. At the same time, you kick away with your feet. Jannik's body tumbles to the side, his throat grinning widely. A watery bubbling noise arose from the cavity under his multiple chins.
You gasp for breath, trying to grasp what had just happened. It had happened so quickly in just a few seconds. At any time now you expect Skarfeld to burst in, but he never does so. As the minutes tick by, the realization set in that you had single-handedly killed the man terrorizing the entire kingdom of Skane. This would do wonders for your reputation; you could not resist the smile that begins to spread across your lips.
"Ah, and I was so looking forward to having my hand cut off too." complains Prince Dagrun. "The pain would have been exquisite..."
The smile dies on your face.
"I guess you win the bet. That wasn't very fun, Fenrir."
The wolf nods, as if understanding Dagrun.
You might want to repair Jannik before the damage is permanent, young prince.
This time it was unmistakeable - the wolf is the one talking to you in your mind.
"Yes, yes, I know. I'm getting to it. Since you've won, you can do with this brother of mine as you wish. Pity, I was looking forward to having fun with him. You really don't play fair, you lying wolf. I really wanted to lose my hand just like you said the First Emperor did."
Oh, I did not expect this outcome too. It was a long shot, even by my reckoning.
The wolf seemed amused, while the prince was slightly upset at having lost whatever bet they had. You sat there, in pain with burns all over and your empty eye socket a stabbing pain in your skull, and grit your teeth. For the first time, you appreciated the irony of your recent life. You, who thought of others as nothing more than tools for your ascent, have been used and misused thoroughly by various powers beyond your comprehension. One day they would rue toying with your fate, but until then, you would just have to manage the best you can. You stagger to your feet, the axe grasped firmly in your hands. Hurt, tired and confused, your prided control over your emotions was cracking. Glancing at the prince, who was humming while holding together Jannik's gaping throat wound, you raised the axe above your head. Before your eyes Jannik's wound mended, the flesh knitting itself back together underneath the prince's slender fingers.
I think it would be better not to, Diogenes Camna.
Before you knew it, the giant wolf had padded silently to your side, his nose sniffing at your burns.
Come, walk with me.
It was coached as an order, not a request. Turning, he walked to the door and waited. It takes a while for you, in your wounded state, to realize that he was waiting for the door to be opened. You do it for him and limp out after the wolf. Skarfeld stood besides the door, not seeming to notice you or the wolf. As the two of you make your way down the stairs, you find that the other cultists were the same, paying you no attention.
You must have many questions. To be honest, I didn't think I would have to answer them so soon, but here you are. About Prince Dagrun -
"The prince is like me, isn't he?" you mutter.
Ah, you are as smart as the previous one I met. That is a relief. Jannik too is a similar existence to you, and all of you are an existence related to me. Of course, I am immeasurably stronger.
There was just a hint of arrogance and pride in the wolf's tone. It was a statement of fact, and you knew it was true - the sense of power enveloping you had accompanied you out of the room, and it was now clear that the wolf was responsible.
"If you had just wanted to speak to me, you need only make an appointment. Such theatre was not required."
If you think I have planned all this, you are sorely mistaken. I merely play the role of Dagrun and Jannik's confidante. Dagrun is the one with a love for vicious, childish plots. I'm afraid I outgrew those many, many years ago. Convoluted schemes have their time and place, but it is something Dagrun has not yet learned.
"I find it hard to believe that a mere boy, even if he is a prince, is responsible for the same cult that ravages his homeland."
He's not just any boy. You said it yourself; he's just like you. Of course, he has some rather self-defeating quirks of personality, despite his intelligence.
"You're going to say that I have it too, right?"
Why, you read my mind.
You did not think it was possible for a wolf, of all creatures, to actually grin, but you saw it with your own eyes as the lupine snout peeled back to bare fangs in a ghastly imitation of a human smile.
At any rate, I have won my bet and will bestow upon you a reward for escaping the smothering blanket of those great rolls of fat. Knowledge seems appropriate."
"Trust a dog to talk about knowledge when power is all they know. You would not be here if you did not have the power to back it up."
You also did not think it was possible for a wolf to sneer, but he did so, somehow.
You may be right, but you will find that I am decidedly undoglike in behaviour, should you have the time to know me better. Regardless, you have walked brazenly into my sights and that means I can no longer leave you be. Trust me when I tell you that knowledge will help you more than power.
There was a subtle tightening around your throat, and you knew that your life or death was firmly in the wolf's paws. You put on your most appealing tone of voice.
"You have my ears, Master Wolf... or should I call you Fenrir?"
The wolf barked and shrugged.
Fenrir is fine. You have no need of false pretense before me, by the way. It's horrendously pointless - you're like an open book.
"It's good to know I don't need to give a damn about your feelings then."
The wolf ignored your not-giving-a-damn.
A single question. Perhaps rationing my knowledge will help you appreciate it better. I will allow you to phrase a single question in ten words, and I will answer it as best as I can. I think I need not warn you about the dangers of knowing too much, though; it is something you have already realized for yourself. Of course, you might want to chance that risk. I care not.
Ask your question.
