Argrave stared at Durran as he very obviously tried to avoid the subject. Thinking back… he remembered Durran asking questions about the Alchemist. Anneliese had inadvertently taught him to be well-used to indulging idle curiosity, and he trusted Durran enough to blab about the Alchemist without second thought. And because of that…

“Galamon, grab him.” Argrave rose to his feet and pointed.

His knight-commander moved without second thought. Durran rose to his feet quickly, but before Galamon his resistance proved futile. In seconds, Galamon had him on the floor. While they struggled, Argrave walked up to Durran and knelt down.

“Gods, man! Whatever happened to a parley? Unacceptable! Unacceptable!” Durran shouted, half-aggrieved and half-joking.

“Argrave, is this necessary?” Elenore, too, probed uneasily.

Argrave brushed back the prone man’s hair behind his neck, revealing his tan skin and a rather peculiar mark just between some of his golden tattoos. The shape was a simple spiral, but it didn’t seem to be either a tattoo or a scar. It had unnatural depth.

“Durran…” Argrave slowly leaned back until he sat on the floor. “You utter idiot.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Durran said, his cheek to the ground even still. “But just calm down, yeah? I’ve got everything under control, I promise. And maybe if you can ask Galamon to get his knee out of my ribs…” the man shifted. “I can get to work explaining myself.”

Argrave sighed deeply. “Let him up.”

Galamon rose to his feet and took position beside Argrave. Durran, too, shakily stood.

“What was that?” Elenore crossed her arms, her eyes looking between the two of them with unease. “Why did you feel that necessary?”

Durran began to speak, but Argrave interrupted. “Durran has a mark from the Alchemist on his body. It’s a symbol of a vow—promise a favor, make a bet, and he’ll put one of those on you to make sure your words are more than just words.” Argrave pointed at Durran with his thumb. “If activated, it can immediately liquify your brain and destroy your soul. You become empty—a husk. Brain’s bad enough, but the soul? No death is more certain.”

Anneliese closed her eyes and shook her head, while Elenore seemed to grow dizzy. She grabbed the chair she’d been sitting on for support, slowly lowering herself back into it.

“I know what you all think.” Durran put his hand on his table, rising up to his feet. “You think I’m in over my head. But damn it all, I had to watch day by day as my people withered away under the tyranny of the Vessels of Fellhorn. And when I finally had the chance to make that right, to do something good, that bottom feeder Titus ripped it all away.” Durran slammed his fist down on the table, making plates jump. “I did what I had to help free my people. I didn’t have the power I needed, but I had a way to get it. The Alchemist gave me what I needed, even if I put my life on the line. And I’ll keep my people free—from Fellhorn, from Gerechtigkeit, from all, no matter how this ends. I’ve ensured I can do that much, at least, no matter how this gamble plays out.”

Elenore looked at him coldly. “So, you’ll burn the candle at both ends, is that it? Until you vanish into smoke.”

Durran’s eyes softened somewhat. “Elenore, this is something—”

“Fine,” she interrupted loudly. “If you want to die so badly, then die.”

The princess rose to her feet and stormed out of the room, her eyes watery.

“Elenore…!” Durran called out, moving after her.

Argrave seized his arm, holding him in place. “Don’t make it worse. Tell me what you’ve done.”

Durran was focused on the empty doorway for a while, struggling against Argrave’s grip.

“Tell me!” Argrave yelled and gripped tighter, concern making him impatient. “This is no joke, Durran. This is no joke.”

His voice seemed to hit home with Durran, and the man finally resigned and settled down. “I saw a way to get what I wanted, without compromise. That’s what you’ve been doing this whole time, isn’t it?”

“That’s not…!” Argrave began, but breathed a sigh of disappointment. “Just… tell me what you’ve done. What are you in for?”

Durran looked off to the side, unable to meet Argrave’s eyes. “…I gave him your origin, damn it. Earth. In return, he told me what he sought. From there, I used it to make the bet.”

Argrave wasn’t pleased to hear that information leaked, but his concern for a dear friend squashed it immediately. “What do you mean, ‘what the Alchemist sought?’” Argrave questioned.

Durran looked at Argrave’s iron grip on his arm, and then managed to lock gazes with him. “You told me you didn’t know what the Alchemist was all about, right? That the player couldn’t ask about his motivations, no matter what. You could only guess, and even the guesses weren’t that convincing.” The man laughed, golden eyes gleaming. “Look at you. Suddenly you’re interested.”

“He actually told you?” Anneliese walked around the table, coming to stand with Argrave. “He seemed rather unwilling to engage in conversation.”

Durran nodded. “Nearly died when I said hello. But hearing about Argrave’s Earth made him… amenable.”

“Then what is this bet?” Argrave pressed. He didn’t care about his secret leaking anymore—all he wanted to know was how to preserve Durran’s life.

“The Alchemist wants to break the cycle of judgment,” Durran said.

Argrave’s grip on Durran slowly weakened. “Durran… do you realize how anxious I am about this bet, hearing that?” He laughed sadly and shook his head. “You want to know who else wants to break the cycle of judgment? Mozzahr, the Castellan of the Empty. He wants to become Gerechtigkeit, but he’d also settle for becoming a god. And speaking of gods, just about every divine being wants to end the cycle, too—they want to permanently merge the mortal and the divine, then duke it out until the last!” Argrave released Durran and walked away, throwing up his hands. “Everybody wants to get out of the cycle. And I hate to be the one to break it to you… but there’s no ending to Heroes of Berendar like that. The cycle will continue. If you made a bet about subverting the cycle… if you did…” his voice wavered as some emotion found him. “Then I’m sorry… but it’s over for you, Durran.”

“Prove it.” Durran crossed his arms.

Argrave chuckled bitterly. “Durran, that’s not even—”

“No, that’s the bet,” Durran clarified. “I have to prove whether it’s impossible or possible to circumvent the cycle of judgment. If I haven’t by the time Gerechtigkeit’s gone… I’ll have some brain eradication in store.”

Argrave walked around the room, his mind working quickly. Though the bet was different in only a subtle way… there was certainly more leeway there. Proof of possibility or impossibility. That was all. But how could one even prove something was impossible?

“The way I figure it, there has to be something in that head of yours,” Durran gestured toward Argrave. “And if not… hell, you can probably just kill the Alchemist. You can get monstrous enough to do that, right?”

Argrave processed that, and then chuckled. The only one who could get the Alchemist’s mark was the player, and the moment the player attacked the Alchemist the mark would trigger, killing them instantly. Removing the mark by killing the Alchemist was a question that could never be answered. Maybe that was a solution. At the same time…

Argrave walked to stare down at Durran, gray eyes steady as stone. “What if none of that comes to pass? We find no proof. The Alchemist lives.”

Durran stared back at Argrave, his golden eyes unwavering. “I’m just one man.”

Argrave looked away first, stepping away in resignation. Anneliese said, “That attitude is why Elenore left, Durran. And if you maintain it, she will leave more than this room, I think.”

Reminded of this, Durran became fidgety. “I should… I should go talk to her. Can I, or will Galamon break my legs or something?”

Argrave looked back. “Go. I need time to think about this, anyway.”

#####

Durran searched for Elenore for a long while without success. He never faltered in his search, though, and when he found her, it was because he intended to get atop his wyvern for a bird’s eye view. His wyvern had been hiding Elenore from him, curled around her defensively so that none, not even he, could spot the princess. She sat on the ledge of the gargantuan wall of the Lionsun Castle, peering out across the desert.

When she looked at him, he saw her red eyes. Durran’s heart tore, and he very nearly teared up himself. He walked to her and sat down, ignoring the gaze of his wyvern nearby. His druidic bond curled around them, shielding them from the gazes of others just as it had shielded her alone.

“Here. Jump,” Elenore told him at once. “Do a flip, land on your neck. Or maybe tie that belt around your neck, and then jump. Or maybe use that dagger,” she suggested, then sniffed. A few new tears fell.

“…I didn’t realize this would hit you so…” Durran thought he was fumbling his words, so he shut up.

“Neither did I,” Elenore shook her head. “When I heard about the King of the Scorched Sands… and how Argrave said it was you… I got this ridiculous notion in my head that you’d become a king to ask for my hand. I became that young, romantic girl that ran away from home all those years ago…” She laughed bitterly, voice hoarse from sadness. “But reality has crashed down once again. You think losing my feet and my eyes would’ve made that lesson stick. How stupid I feel…”

“That is why I went. For you.” Durran looked at her. “Sure, wasn’t the only reason. Got inspired by Argrave, inspired by all you achieved, and wanted to rectify a failure. I wanted to unite Vasquer and the Burnt Desert, permanently. But in the end, what pushed me to go back was you.” He rubbed his gauntleted hands together. “As you know, I’m a little impulsive.”

“Ah. So I did kill you. Thank you for clarifying.” Elenore pulled her legs up from off the edge and brought her knees to her chest.

Durran sighed. “I’m not planning to die, Elenore.”

“Does anyone? My father didn’t. Nor did Levin. Or Induen. Or Magnus. They were kings and princes, all. But they died all the same.” Elenore wrapped her arms around her knees.

Durran stayed silent for a few seconds, then said with certainty, “I’m better than them.”

Elenore laughed, finally, and Durran thought he saw some light.

Durran leaned in a little off the ledge, looking at her in the eyes. “This bet… it wasn’t a bet on my ability alone, though. It was a bet on Argrave, and whatever stupid things he’s got in that head of his. It was a bet on you and your resourcefulness. Because at every turn, I saw how brilliantly genius you were. And I realized that, no matter what, if you were on—no, by my side, everything would resolve as best as it could.”

Elenore grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the ledge, clearly uncomfortable with how close he’d gotten. When she saw him smile at her concern, she defended herself, saying, “You can fall off after this conversation is over.”

“Of course,” Durran agreed, not wishing to push his luck.

The silence between them stretched out for a while. Durran peered out across the Burnt Desert just as she did, taking in the sight. He had been born in those sands, molded by that endless blackness, and now he put his life on the line for the Burnt Desert.

“I think… you would be better forgetting me,” Elenore said. “I can’t care for people properly. The man I ran away with… his fate is gruesome. Therese… I let her be tortured, and as reward I allowed her to die because of my negligence. And Levin… he had the same father, the same pain, but I just watched as he bled out…” she sniffed strongly. “The things I say, what I do… I’m not loving, not kind. Whether as a sister, a lover, a… a mother, even, if that’s what you want… it’s best for everyone I keep my distance. That’s why you are where you are. That’s why you’re dying. You got too close.”

Durran leaned back on his hands. “I go talking about how smart you are, and then you go and say something braindead like that…” he shook his head and laughed. “I think today’s evidence enough you’re capable of caring for other people. And I think everyone in that room you left could give you half a thousand other examples.

“As for all that other drivel you just spewed… Argrave owes you his kingdom. That’s a pretty good sister, you ask me. The lover part… I know a thing or two, don’t worry. And you’re a fast learner. That leads naturally to the next part, mothering…” Durran shrugged as Elenore flushed from his last comment. “I don’t know. Kids, no kids… doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Elenore looked at him. “Doesn’t make a difference?”

“Yeah,” Durran nodded. “Fact is… whole time I was out there in the Burnt Desert, something kept running through my head. Anything I did, anything I saw, I’d just start thinking, ‘what would Elenore say about this?’ or ‘would Elenore enjoy this?’” He slowly lowered to his back until he was staring up at the sky. “I just like being around you. I like looking at you. I’d like to do other things, as I mentioned. That’s why you can rest assured that I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

Elenore exhaled and looked back out across the Burnt Desert. After an extended silence, she looked back at Durran. “What did you want to show me?”

Durran propped his head up with his arm. “Well… lots of things.” He thought on the matter more, and then his golden eyes gleamed. “One of them we can do right now.” He looked back to the wyvern encircling them, then patted its leg. “Want to ride my wyvern?”

Elenore studied the creature with her gray eyes, then looked back at Durran. “Okay,” she nodded.

At that, Durran rose to his feet speedily and got on his wyvern’s back. He offered his hand down. “Come along then, princess. I think it’s time for a tour of the kingdom I earned for you.”

Elenore managed a smile. And she took Durran’s hand.