Chapter 492: The Artificer
Dario was much as he had been described. He was perhaps six feet tall, had wild dark hair and tan skin, and a lean body. He wore a dark brown cloak over his body, concealing dark armor that had complex machinery attached. Argrave could see the mechanical crossbow on his right arm, strung but unloaded, and saw strange devices on his legs that seemed like braces… or perhaps augmenters. He could see that there was something otherworldly about the metal, but his layman brain couldn’t exactly deduce what they did. He could sense no magic from them. When Dario saw Argrave, he put his hand to his chest and took a deep breath as though preparing himself for this conversation.
“Is that him?” Argrave asked Melanie.
“Yeah.” His retainer nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on the man. “Definitely him. Has a few weird things on his arms and legs I haven’t seen before, but it’s him.”
Argrave felt the need to take a deep breath just as Dario did. “Stay alert, then.”
The two parties slowly bridged the gap to meet one another. Dario didn’t have an escort of guards the same way Argrave did, and both he and Melanie paid close attention to the man and their surroundings to be sure that nothing untoward would occur.
Argrave stopped a healthy distance away from Dario. Now that they were closer, Argrave made out some details. The man looked exhausted—his eyes were sunken and had deep dark circles beneath them, and Argrave spotted dried blood just beneath his nose. To put it simply, he looked ghoulish.
“Hello. You’re either a tall and lanky dwarf, or Dario. I’m Argrave. I believe you’ve already met this lovely lady—Melanie.” As Argrave watched the man, he seemed to have some difficulty meeting Argrave’s eyes. “To be honest, I thought the first thing we’d exchange would be blows, not words. It seems like you’ve been trying to sabotage us. I hope that this has all been a misunderstanding, and we can laugh it up and talk about how best to resolve this. If you need something from the dwarves, maybe we can reach some accommodation. If you have some sort of grudge, I’m happy to hear it.”
Dario met Argrave’s eyes, finally. His were a rich red. That eye color was common in the subterranean mountain people in the caverns beneath the mountains of the Burnt Desert, but his were especially crimson. His voice was firm yet troubled as he said, “I shouldn’t be speaking to you. But I heard your wife was absent, and I hoped that I could get through to you without her… insight.”
“Anneliese?” Argrave finished, but settled into quiet contemplation. He shouldn’t be speaking to me. What does this mean? And Anneliese… he must know about her empathy.
Dario seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, then straightened his back to speak firmly. “I don’t wish for this to be adversarial, but you can’t remain here. Let me help the dwarves. Then, return to Vasquer. Whatever you intend, please do not allow it to bear fruit. Content yourself that you averted what disaster would befall these people.” He looked around at the dwarves, and then up at the great statue of Alexander. “Let them live in peace, as they always have.”
Argrave was surprised by his earnestness. He shifted on his feet, searching for an answer. “I don’t know why you’re advocating for the dwarves so strongly… but I think they have as much duty as anyone else to defend the world from Gerechtigkeit.”
“You’re searching for answers that could upend everything, all life. The number of people you would hurt would be far greater than the Smiling Raven or Gerechtigkeit ever achieved in their existence.” His voice was hard, yet passionate. Argrave understood, now, why he only spoke to Argrave when he knew that Anneliese was absent. And behind all of that, a more shocking revelation—Dario knew precisely what he and the Alchemist had come here for.
“Where does this certainty come from?” Argrave asked, engrossed. “Do you speak for Gerechtigkeit? Or is there another?”
“I speak and act for one who knows,” Dario shook his head, then spread his arms out disarmingly. “And nothing more.”
“Okay…” Argrave accepted that silently, theories forming in his head. “If you’re telling me that the path I’m on—trying to end the cycle of judgment—is wrong, I’m perfectly open to more information. Just help me understand, Dario.”
“I can’t.” Dario lowered his head and shook it slowly.
“You seem to talk fine,” Melanie pointed out.
“The more I divulge, the closer you would get to the truth,” Dario insisted.
Argrave stepped closer, arguing, “Yes, that’s the point. Isn’t the truth what’s convinced you I’m on the wrong path?”
“There is truth. But interpretations of that truth can vary wildly depending on who beholds it. The people in that senate, for instance…” he turned his head toward where the hall lay, and gestured toward it. “They learn the facts, but each of the thousand have different ways to deal with it. And you may look upon the truth differently than I do.”
“Meaning… if I learn the truth behind Gerechtigkeit, I might not agree that it’s as big a problem as you think,” Argrave translated.
“You should probably know that’s a terrible way to dissuade someone,” Melanie pointed out. “You’ve told us two things—that we’re on the right track, and that there is an answer. By being so vague, you just encourage us. Might as well tell the rest.”
“But it isn’t you alone, Argrave. You have others seeking this truth alongside you, and you cannot hide it from them. You are a good man, Argrave. Your struggle against Gerechtigkeit has followed the correct course. But should you continue, you will open a door that has been sealed shut for uncountable years. And the thing I fear above all is that it will not be you alone that enters. You have tall shadows. The Alchemist is one such shadow—and he plots even now to capture me, torture information out of me. Even if you might interpret the truth as I have, you are not alone. I cannot risk this spreading to others. I must ask you to stop. And if I cannot get the answer I seek…”
“Sandelabara is a door? And something beyond there is vital to Gerechtigkeit?” Argrave said, trying to confirm his deductions.
Dario looked greatly pained. “By straying beyond, by vying for more, you endanger so much that it is unquantifiable.” He looked to the side. “I do not speak often. This conversation is the most I have said in years. You will likely best me in the senate easily—I know I am neither compelling or persuasive. I have no true friends, no allies, and I cannot make them easily. I am but a fool trapped in the middle of it all. Still, things are the way they are for a reason. I ask you, with trust in your good nature, to stop.”
“Gerechtigkeit kills hundreds of thousands, if not millions, every time he descends,” Argrave argued. “Could there be anything worse? There has to be a way to end this. To improve this. To go beyond this. My friend and brother-in-law put his life on the line, seeking these answers. I can’t just turn away. You say I’m a good man—then can’t you give me trust enough to trust me with the truth?” Argrave took some few steps closer, and whispered intently, “Forget the Alchemist, forget everyone else—just you and me. Let’s talk. Give me this truth. Help me understand why you’re doing this.”
“I can’t trust you. It’s not the place of one man to judge another, not with so much at stake.” Dario’s red eyes looked strangely sad. “Promise me this, Argrave. If you do not heed my words… if I cannot stop you along this path… I can ask only one thing of you. When you learn the truth, do not judge wrongly. Step away.”
As Argrave stared without a response, he saw magic swirl around Dario. The Alchemist appeared, breaking his invisibility, and attempted to restrain the artificer. Dario rose his left hand up and swiped it through the magic. It somehow dispersed, and the Alchemist curled inward silently as though recoiling. Dario staggered, and some blood dripped down from his nose. Despite his pain, Dario stepped forth with ethereal speed, heading for the leg of the great statue of Alexander. Argrave pursued, but when he caught up to where the artificer had vanished…
Dario was already gone.