JACKAL AMONG SNAKES

Epilogue 4.2: Family Dinner

Elimar watched reservedly as servants placed large platters of food in the center of the table. He was unaccustomed to such treatment, both from sixty-six years serving in the imperial army and from the measured upbringing of his parents. All of them waited politely for everyone to arrive at the table before they began eating, just as they’d been taught when they were children.

“Uncle Vincent, how come you know so much about the Last Calamity?” came chatter from one of Elimar’s nephews. “You talk about it just like grandpa.”

“Good question, kid. Very good question.” Vincent drank from his glass of water.

When Vincent didn’t answer, the child demanded rambunctiously, “Then answer!”

Castro snapped his fingers, and a very weak spark of lightning jolted the child in the nose. Elimar’s nephew winced more from surprise than hurt, like he’d been flicked on the nose. “What did your mother tell you about asking nicely, son?”

“Jeez, don’t shock the boy on my behalf.” Vincent shook his head. “I just studied a lot. If you want to grow up to tell stories to little kids at family reunions, then read a lot of books like me. But honestly, you’re better off trying to be like your dad, or your uncle Elimar, or your aunt Gisele. Or, best of all, you could try to be like Sophia.”

“I’m gonna be the emperor, like grandpa!” The child declared boldly.@@@@

All of the adults smiled or laughed at the carefree ambition of youth. Eventually, his fickle nature took over, and he darted away to be with some of his peers.

“Your youngest, right?” His sister Lieselotte asked Castro. “Good kid. Smart.”

“And he looks like his mother. Best of both worlds,” joked Yannik, their youngest sibling and the undoubted troublemaker. Everyone knew the joke was good-natured, and so laughed freely.

“So, Elenore,” Elimar spoke up. “Running for reelection?”

Elenore shrugged. “No, I’ll be standing still for reelection. If the people still want me, they still have me. I enjoy the job.”

“Did our parents tell you anything about what we’re talking about?” asked Diedrich, second youngest.

Before Elenore could speak, a commotion coming from the estate drew everyone’s attention. There, Anneliese and Argrave had finally arrived. Their very presence was magnetic, electric. Argrave had a faint dark red trail behind every movement—the sign of ninety-seven years of accumulating blood echoes. Anneliese, too, had a certain glow to her; a faint glimmer in the air, brought about by the maturation of her A-rank ascension.

But just because they looked so formidable didn’t mean they had become unapproachable. Their grandchildren and great-grandchildren stormed them, totally heedless of the power the two wielded. To most of those here today, the two were merely grandpa and grandma. Dignity and love coexisted easily in the undisputed patriarch and matriarch of Vasquer. After acting as emperor and empress for so many years, the role had distilled itself into their very being. Or... perhaps it was merely Elimar’s own view of them.

Elimar held both of his parents in the highest esteem. He couldn’t be prouder to have come to this life under their guidance. He tried his very best to emulate them in serving the army. They always told him not to, of course—to do as they say, not as they do. But giving oneself totally for a cause—even sixty-six grueling years later, Elimar didn’t regret enlisting in the army one moment. He couldn’t claim a fraction of his parent’s achievements, but he tried to be a force for good, even if that meant going against their wishes.

“Come on, kids. You’ll have a whole week with the two of us, but only a few more minutes of hot food,” Argrave said, his authoritative yet gentle voice filling the garden. “Go to your places. We’ll do something fun after lunch, I promise. We’ll take the best-behaved kid on a magic flight. How’s that sound?”

With Argrave’s typically artful negotiation tactics, he extricated the two of them from the horde of eager children. As he and Anneliese walked to the head of the table, everyone stood at attention. No one spoke as they pulled back their chairs and sat down. Argrave’s gaze wandered the table, looking at all of his attendant children and all of his closest companions. He smiled, and then drummed his fingers against the plate. There was a great deal of emotion unspoken in those gray eyes of his.

“We’re glad you’re all here,” Argrave finally said, taking Anneliese’s hand. “Let’s eat.”

With that, the family moved eagerly to claim their portions from the large platters splayed out across the table. The Parents of the Empire waited for their children to stake their claim. Elimar did the same. He watched Vincent pile vegetables onto his plate—strangely, even as a boy, Vincent never ate meat. It was only once everyone had served themselves that Argrave and Anneliese reached out to claim what remained, which itself was still an extravagant meal.

“...listen, maybe we can skip the preamble?” Durran spoke up. “You seem to forget even your youngest child is in his seventies. I’m sure they can take it.”

“Fair,” Argrave conceded, looking at Anneliese. She gave him a nod and a smile, and then he looked back to the rest of the table. “We’re going to the moon. Long-term, at that.”

The table erupted into a plethora of reactions. The most common reaction was disbelief, followed shortly by confusion and amusement. Elimar only smiled, once again affirmed in his admiration of his parents. While everyone else tried to speak to their parents to make sense of that declaration, Elimar leaned in to Vincent.

“Christine took you to the moon once, yes?” he asked.

Vincent turned his head so his good eye could see Elimar. “Yeah, for the wedding.”

“And?” Elimar pressed.

Vincent tilted his head back, thinking. “It was red, desolate. Had some neat architecture. The lunar dragons don’t eat, so there wasn’t much in the way of greenery. Or animals. Or... anything that makes it livable. Most everything was underground.”

“Hmm.” Elimar looked back to his parents, waiting for them to continue.

“You think we don’t know it’s irresponsible?” Argrave said in response to a question Elimar had missed. “Of course it is. It’s a pipedream, that’s what it is. Do you know what else was a pipedream? Stopping Gerechtigkeit. We broke the cycle of judgment all the same. Now, it’s time for us to try our hands at breaking another cycle altogether. The only way we see that happening is going beyond.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Gisele argued, ever the cool rationalist. “The lunar dragons are the only ones who can breach space. Any other forces attempting to go beyond the planet are subject to unknown forces.”

“Were subject to.” Anneliese leaned in. “The culprit that’s kept us trapped on this world... it’s magic, Gisele. Magic itself struggles to keep us confined to the planet. That’s what I’ve discovered after these four years on this island. But increasingly, as magic is drawn thinner and thinner as more spellcasters arise... there are gaps. Routes out. Routes beyond. And we might take the seed of magic, of life, and spread it beyond this planet alone. We need not take from others—instead, we can claim untouched lands, just as it was after the calamity.”

“We won’t be going alone, of course. We’re not remotely qualified to begin colonizing another celestial body, but we can support those who are. It could take hundred of years for us to even begin making any progress at all. But... I want to.” Argrave looked to Anneliese. “It’ll be fun, I think. Exploring the unknown. And why get rich if you can’t waste your money on stupid projects?”

“You’re going to the moon because you’re bored?” Castro asked bluntly. Neither Argrave nor Anneliese offered an immediate response.

Orion, who’d been silent thus far, leaned onto the table. “Can I come?” Moments later his daughter glared at him, and he leaned back without getting an answer.

Elimar closed his eyes, reveling in the chatter of the lively Vasquer family. Going off what Elimar knew of the world, this venture seemed destined to fail or stagnate for decades. But... was it not a noble effort, a worthy goal? Elimar believed so. His parents had never lacked for resourcefulness. Elimar began to quietly eat, ever-grateful to be continually overshadowed by his parents.

“How do you expect us to have a normal meal after that?” Sophia complained. “It’s all I can think about. It’s... it’s absurd!”

“We want to do it, so we’re doing it,” Argrave said, putting his foot down. “I’m sorry, dear, but that’s just the way things are.”

“Could you consider a more normal mid-life crisis?” Diana quipped.

Much of the table fell into mirth, and minutes later they were all infected by the harmonious atmosphere of the reunion dinner. Elimar couldn’t say whether or not his parents had built the perfect nation. But to him, at least, they’d built a perfect family. And he could tell he wasn’t alone in that sentiment.