“He speaks the truth,” said Law, speaking from one of his Justiciars as they stayed within his realm. “If he’s sworn while bound by my power, he could not lie. It’s an impossibility.”

Argrave exhaled, looking upon Raven with a great measure of satisfaction. They had returned to Law’s Court. He had agreed to be bound by its power, and they had inquired whether or not he was still affected by the impulses that led him into becoming the Smiling Raven. And he’d claimed they’d gone, utterly.

“You should have killed me,” Raven said, leaning up against the golden walls of Law’s Court. “The risk of keeping me alive was too high.”

“Evidently not, Raven.” Argrave had been happy to return to calling him the Alchemist, but word from the man himself indicated he was no longer uncomfortable with his old name. “You overestimate yourself.”

“Or underestimate you, perhaps,” he conceded.

“You said you felt whole,” Argrave continued. “What does that mean for you?”

“Hunger drove the Smiling Raven. Hunger, compassion, and certainty. The first is gone, but enough of who I am remains that I can still claim to be alive.” He looked down at Argrave. “I couldn’t claim that, before. I was a shell, driven by an objective hammered into me. Now, I am what I said. Whole, and alive.”

Argrave held out his arms in congratulations. “Raven, back from the dead.”

“Hmm. It’s been many years,” he agreed quietly, closing his eyes.

Argrave smiled at him. “Never had the chance to thank you for saving my life. And giving me one hell of a gift, besides.”

Raven nodded, opening his eyes. “Don’t thank me. I made the assessment it would be more pragmatic for you to live, even if risking a calamity. What Erlebnis did to you was worth the risk to salvage. By nature, I suppose he couldn’t bear the idea of his knowledge dying off. Helping you… on that point, at least, I was correct. But again, I underestimated just how good that outcome would be. Another underestimation of you.”

“Maybe it was the right estimation,” Argrave dismissed humbly, though felt pride at the praise. “I can earnestly say we lucked out with Lindon. It feels luck hasn’t happened to us very often, but maybe it’s because I’m lucky often enough I’ve forgotten what unlucky looks like. But hell, better to be lucky than to be skilled.”

“To a point,” Raven agreed.

Argrave looked at him. He still retained that inhuman appearance, but Argrave thought his words were softer, somehow.

“Speaking of skilled, can you still do all of what you used to? Precise surgeries?” Argrave asked, thinking of another urgent matter.

Raven’s eyes glowed green, then settled. “You seem fine. Do you intend to add more to yourself?” (C) content.

“I am fine, thanks for noticing. It’s Anneliese.” Argrave beckoned. “Perhaps it’s time I caught you up on everything that you missed. We’ve a hell of a decision ahead of us.”

“I’ll listen. But there’s one thing that needs to be said.” Raven looked down at Argrave, then extended his hand. “Thank you.”

If Argrave could’ve, he would’ve taken a little recording of that and stowed it away. It was rare enough to sell for many fortunes.

“You’re welcome.” He shook Raven’s hand—a somewhat comical scene, given the man’s size. “Alright. Now that the verification is done, let’s start with how the battle ended…” Argrave began.

#####

“Are you foolish?” asked Raven. “Eat the damn thing. All four of them, perhaps.”

Argrave, Elenore, Orion, and Anneliese resided in a room with the newly-restored Alchemist. He claimed that fixing Anneliese would be a ‘rudimentary procedure,’ and indeed it had taken him no longer than a few minutes. They sat on a table atop balcony in the imperial palace of the Great Chu. Above, the siege into Kirel Qircassia’s divine realm persisted. They could feel the power from the battle even many miles below. But that power felt somewhat pale in front of the four golden fruits on the red table between them. The Fruits of Being, with supposedly limitless potential.

“But if we plant it—” Orion began.

“If you plant it, you create excess,” Raven interrupted. “A hatchling Gilderwatcher, when you already have Vasquer. She cannot even fight, and you yourself painted them as a harmonious, peace-loving species—what would a newborn do for us, then, but cause burdens?” He examined the Fruits of Being, but did not touch them. “Have you brought any to Hause?”

“Yes.” Elenore nodded. “She confirmed what Lindon said. Each of them contains finite infinite potential.”

“Her and those vagaries.” Raven scoffed. “Did she elaborate?”

“They can do anything within the limits of their power,” Anneliese said. “Looking upon them with [Truesight], it… words cannot do them justice. Each fruit is like an unborn star, slumbering, waiting for someone to break its golden skin and unleash the universe of possibilities within.”

“Then Argrave should eat one. The way I see it… there are only a few more battles left to fight.” Raven looked between them. “Sophia is mastering her power by healing others. It’s a fine enough way to learn of the human body. In time, I intend to show to her the diagrams I made of your body when I was searching for signs of the other realm you claimed to come from, Argrave. With that, I believe our access to where Gerechtigkeit returns to is guaranteed. As for Gerechtigkeit himself, our triumphs have united the majority of the world as one. These are fights we’re amply prepared for.”

“Leaving Traugott and the Heralds,” Elenore summarized.

“Indeed. One possesses an Undying Soul, now, despite our efforts. The other is largely unknown and has powers unlike anything we’ve ever experienced before. They need to be dealt with. You claim that visiting with the Gilderwatchers has given you insights.”

“Their vision encompasses the world,” Orion said. “Whether cloaked in shadows or bathed in light, none escapes their presence of mind. In their festival of will, we saw hints enough to form a robust plan of action to flush Traugott out. Our lead on the Heralds is less substantial, but I hold hope in my chest that Lindon will contact us again.”

“Proving my point: Argrave should accept the fruit’s power, whatever it might be. Traugott and the Heralds both need to be beaten, and thus far, we’ve been proven lacking. Should Argrave truly hunt Gerechtigkeit to the source of his being, he would need power.” His gray eyes scanned them all, and when no one responded, he continued, “I don’t believe I would be missing the mark in saying none of you intend to claim godhood.”

Everyone at the table looked at each other, judging whether or not to say their thoughts on the matter. There had been some discussions, though only in passing. They’d never laid their thoughts out flatly.

Argrave decided to admit his earnest thoughts and placed his hands on the table. “It’s too limiting. We’d be pigeonholed into acting in a manner befitting whatever sphere we govern. That frightens me—I can’t be sure how it might change things up. Much better to form robust alliances with deities we can trust, as we already have.”

“I tend to agree,” Raven said. “And should we fail to fully destroy Gerechtigkeit, being confined to a divine realm for most of the next millennium is unideal regardless of how much power godhood might offer. I am already equal to many lesser gods. This Fruit of Being may offer similar opportunity to gain strength while remaining mortal—not to mention what Hause might do for us, should we persuade her to unlock potentials once again.”

“Shouldn’t we hold onto the fruits?” Anneliese questioned. “Wait for the opportunity to arise when it’s best to use them?”

Argrave reached forward and grabbed a fruit. “Kill Traugott for me,” he told it, then threw it in the air. It did nothing, and he caught it. “Didn’t work. For a wish-granting genie, it seems a little broken.”

“Given from what Lindon said, we would have to deform it in some manner for it to act,” Elenore suggested, then ran her hand through her long black hair in frustration. “I’m only speculating, though. Damn it all. Why couldn’t he have been more specific?”

“Yet another reason for Argrave to consume it,” Raven pressed. “We would find out its limitations. Argrave, then, could cross-reference it with countless things inside of his head—that wiki of his. We would have a subject of scrutiny, who I understand in and out. And uses of these fruit henceforth would come not from a place of ignorance and guesswork.”

“Why have I been volunteered?” Argrave protested, holding the fruit out. “Why not you?”

“Indeed, why not? Give it here,” said Raven, holding his hand out and gesturing.

“No, that’s… we’re fine,” Argrave said at once, retracting his hand.

“Are you, now?” Raven managed what might’ve been a laugh, which Argrave wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before.

“It’s just… if the possibilities are limitless…” Argrave looked at the fruit, no larger than the palm of his hand. “Anneliese could be the wisest one here, that wouldn’t be the first time. We shouldn’t be hasty, no?” As he looked between everyone, doubt festered. “Or maybe that’s the wrong feeling. Maybe they should be used, or we’d end up still hoarding our elixirs while fighting the final boss, that sort of thing…”

“Why think about it rationally at all? It’s clearly beyond all of us.” Orion asked.

Everyone went quiet. Argrave pointed at Orion. “The man makes a good point.”

Argrave looked down at the Fruit of Being in his hand. He felt a nervousness far worse than when Erlebnis had rushed at him from the Palace of Heaven. But he raised its golden brilliance up to his mouth, and sunk his teeth into its soft skin.