Chapter 46: The Token

Salser, who spent the first half of his life as a mage serving in the military and the latter half as a mage serving the Senate, essentially a mage throughout his life, pried Jeanne's fingers open at the moment she awoke, clenched the scroll, and replied solemnly:

"Very well. The night raid failed, and I shall take my leave."

Jeanne stared at him without a word.

Salser continued:

"Might you release my hand now?"

"Quit your yammering," Jeanne said with a twisted smile, this time reaching out to grab the dark wizard's wrist, "Drop whatever's in your grip."

Salser licked his lips, and a white-hot light emerged from his mouth, drawing an arc under the dim ceiling—like a miniature beam of light from a lighthouse.

"I can ascertain that you have no token on you," he said with a smile, looking at the woman before him, "Your sole possession is that tattered armor suitable only for a trash heap; you've even lost your sword and that ridiculous headpiece."

The white light circled the dark wizard's neck once, then, with ease, it coiled its body—neither light nor flame, but a serpent of searing white, its scales akin to a burning prairie, billowed and danced. Upon Salser's neck, the end of its finger-width body stood rose like a serpent's head, slowly separating to reveal a face without eyes, only rough slits. Its forked tongue was similar to the Dark wizard's soul form, long and thin, flickering like a lighthouse beam as it opened its mouth towards Jeanne.

Jeanne ignored his threat, staring intently at him:

"You really want this thing, don't you?"

"Impressive, a brilliant piece of nonsense," the hot white snake crawled down the dark wizard's arm, and the same burning sensation rose on Jeanne's skin as she was approached by the snake.

"Do you understand what this is?—Salser Bettrafio."

"Who can say," he said indifferently, "It could be the Dark elf's Warren Kurald Galain, or the Jaghut's Warren Omtose Phellack, or perhaps even the Dragon's first Warren Stavro Demelan?"

Jeanne reached out with her other hand and slapped the white snake crawling from Salser's arm.

"Hey! What are you doing! What if I had truly infused it with the power of the Warren?"

"My arm's been broken over ten times," Jeanne said with a shrug, still gripping his wrist tightly, "If you're serious about using Warren's power to threaten me, I'll just look for an opening to chop your arm off with a sword."

"It's a miracle you've survived this long."

"I've survived this long because those who stood against me are dead, not because they've lost an arm."

Jeanne shrugged and continued to ask:

"You know we can't connect to these Warrens, so what's your play with my token?"

"Do you understand what my profession is?"

"The guardian knight under my command," Jeanne said this very naturally.

"To hell with your guardian knight! I'm a dark wizard, and a mere seven years past, I was an esteemed member of the upper class serving the Senate!"

"Knock off the daydreaming, rein in your dumb curiosity; these days, dark wizards are just rats darting through the streets. You'll always be a knight under my thumb— you street rat."

Salser's countenance twitched, perceiving it as yet another insult, "Yet, it is not beyond the realm of possibility for knights to harbor an interest in the study of ancient Warrens, is it not?"

Jeanne looked at him expressionlessly:

"This is the token of the First Throne, you get what I'm saying?"

"Ah, the First Throne! My curiosity also extends to the T'lan Imass, be it their indestructible flint swords, their sorcery for engendering shape-shifters, or even their Warren Tellann, I find it all intriguing," Salser remarked.

"Your curiosity is gonna land me in a heap of trouble, Dark wizard."

"So now you remember I'm a dark wizard?"

Jeanne's face also twitched:

"Haven't got a clue."

"Cease your jesting please. Now, inform me, what is your intent with the token of the First Throne that you've retrieved from the dream?"

"This is something Steel Magistrate Taxar gave me," Jeanne said, "The Church struck a deal with the First Throne ages ago."

"Steel... what?"

"What do you think—it is?" Jeanne scoffed. She rose from the bed, adjusting the shoulder of her nightgown with her left hand, and with her right, she hauled the dark wizard's arm as if it were a mop, "As it happens, I struggle to connect with the Warren of Light; you're keen on studying this thing? Alright, I'll oversee your research right here. The approach? We'll supply it with energy to summon the T'lan Imass to this very spot."

"Wait, you intend to summon the T'lan Imass of the First Throne to this very spot?" Salser gasped, taken aback by both the rationale behind the Steel Magistrate's arrival and the close relationship between the Holy Cross Church and the First Throne, "Are you in earnest? Do you seek to ignite a war in this godforsaken place!?"

"Aren't you itching to learn about their magic? Here's a shot to get up close and personal, to take down the Jaghut demigod Hood, who's been knocked down from a god to Ascendant—how many T'lan Imass do you reckon will show up in this Warren?"

"No," Salser shook his head, struggling to regain his composure, "Those entities remain dispersed, and there is also the barrier of the Outer Gods to the power of the Warren—while the ancient Warrens exclusive to them are not significantly hindered, I doubt that many T'lan Imass will venture here, much less their shaman Bonecasters."

"That's precisely why we're counting on you to dish out more mana—from now till we're outta this Warren," Jeanne pinned the dark wizard's wrist, clutching the token, against the wall, smiling maliciously as she looked at him, enunciating each word, "Salser Bettrafio."

I'll work myself to death, Salser was silent for a while, then said:

"Can I expect a vacation and a raise upon our departure?"

It seemed he had no other choice.

"No," Jeanne released his wrist and said slowly, as if regretting that the Magistrate hadn't sentenced the Dark wizard to death directly, "After we leave the Warren, we're heading straight to the city of Cast you are so fond of, where there will be a nun who has studied demonic Warren to assess your current situation."

"...Is this also the Magistrate's decision?"

"Looks like you've got it all figured out, Salser," Jeanne reached out to adjust her nightgown again. It seemed a bit loose, constantly slipping down her shoulders, "If you've got any beef, I can hook you up with Sir Taxar—you two can hash it out in private."

"I'd rather engage in discourse with a manifestation of the Outer Gods than with the Steel Magistrate."

"As you wish," she said, "Now scram and wait outside. I've got to change, and once I'm done, you'll follow me outside to prepare for the first contact ritual."

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