Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius was fairly certain that War Princess Cassiopeia had arrived while he was conversing with Pale.

He stepped onto the shadow of the boy, provided by the flickering torchlight.

Tapping into the pervasive mana in the atmosphere, he first willed the darkness still... then forward. The shadow crept along the ground, peeling apart into five points before wrapping around a barely visible haze.

The serpentine simulacra constricted around its prey... Cassiopeia's ⌈Invisibility⌋ Spell.

And so the Ivory Princess appeared in all her glory: designer sandals; golden bracelets; and flowing, white robes reminiscent of a bridal dress.

The young lady clicked her tongue and ceased channeling her ⌈Flight⌋ Spell.

She twirled mid-air, landing gracefully in front of the young Hero.

10 points.

"So this... is the supposedly handsome Hero of the Holy Country," she sneered.

Was that what Pale was known for? Tycon didn't quite see it.

The boy stood up straight, rendering a crisp salute with his fist to the chest.

"G-good afternoon, Princess. My name is Pale Invictus," he said.

The volume he used was... acceptable-- if barely.

"Hmph, I know who you are," Cass spat, "the offspring of a Blade Dancer. Well, let me tell you, brat-- my brother is THREE times more handsome than you are!"

Oh? That was nice to hear.

Though, admittedly, that was rather unfair. The young man was still a few adventuring years away from an appropriate level of 'ruggedness' and 'grit' that would elevate him to the likes of Tycon's level.

"Oh, uh... okay," Pale nodded. "Um, Miss--"

"I'm older than you!" Cass snapped.

"Uh-- Ma'am..."

"Ugh. No. I'm not *that* much older than you."

"M-milady?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I like that. Go ahead."

"Who's your brother?"

Cass was oddly taken aback by the question.

Unless something had drastically changed in the past few years, she only had one brother. Males in the Medusa bloodline were exceedingly rare.

War Princess Cassiopeia took a half-step backward and lowered her head.

"Err... well-- that's..."

Tycon absentmindedly glanced down.

He was still standing in Pale's shadow. Cass hadn't noticed him, likely thanks to the Shadow Snake essence in his mana circuits layered with the chamber's strong affinity to the same.

Thus, he stepped into the torchlight.

"Master Pale," he said, "I am her brother."

"BROTHER!!" Cass shouted, "What the F--"

Tycon crossed the distance with his ⌈Shadowfang⌋ Movement Technique before pressing his finger against his sister's lips.

"Language... Milady," he said with a wink. "Good afternoon."

"Yyyyeah, okay. I can see that," Pale nodded agreeably.

A red-faced Cass turned away, "YOU can burn in everlasting *fire.*"

"Hm. Appropriate suggestion," Tycon remarked. "Young Master, secure the opposite side of the ⌈Gate⌋. I'm assuming you can handle the task on your own?"

"I... think I can?" Pale answered, "Can I borrow a weapon, Sir? The Lifedrinker Spear you gave me broke when I shoved it up a--"

"--and mind *your* language, Young Master," Tycon interrupted. "We are in the presence of a lady."

Flicking his wrist, he activated his spatial ring, summoning his most recent prize: a gift from Spellbreaker Azki Yates.

What was it called... the Beithir Blaster? A lightning-enchanted staff of acceptable quality.

Pale took the Witch-weapon respectably, with both hands.

Then, he saluted once more, "Orders received. Good afternoon, err-- Milady and Sir."

"Sod off!" Cass yelled as Pale sprinted toward the gate.

The boy didn't appear to hear it, somersaulting through with particularly Elven flair.

Tycon turned to his lovely sister, "War Princess Cassiopeia."

"Eep!"

"Hm," Tycon frowned, "Incorrect. Try again."

"Eep, Sir?" Cass groaned.

Tycon felt his mouth twitch. His sister had rendered a... greeting he was unfamiliar with. But if that was protocol for her War Band, then he could only accept it.

"Yes. Eep. Cass, I hereby relinquish my Commander duties to you for the period of time I will be away. Serve with honor."

"What? No f*cking way?"

Tycon paused, trying to discern what exactly she was trying to say.

It sounded... negative?

"Brother, no!" Cass insisted, "Whatever crazy stupid plan you have going on in your head, I think it's crazy-- and stupid! So no!"

"I'm going into that ⌈Gate⌋, (beautiful child,)" Tycon explained. "Dragan's already gone ahead. Of the Free Nation leaders in the camp, you are the most senior-- along with being the most veteran combatant."

He looked the young lady over once more before adding, "You've done quite well for yourself."

"I-- but..." Cass pursed her lips, "You... heard?"

"At length," Tycon smiled.

It was difficult not to. The Free Nation's favorite War Princess was a popular topic, even in the far reaches of the Realm.

"...Why me?" the hatchling asked.

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "I have literally just explained that. Do you really want me to list your qualifications?"

"N-no," Cass pouted. "That would be way too embarrassing..."

Cassiopeia's War Band had been figuratively uncontested over the past few years. She'd proved both her leadership ability and her personal strength in dozens of major engagements with other War Bands.

In doing so, she had garnered the loyalty of a number of War Princes (and Princesses) willing to fight under or alongside her banners.

Her achievements were myriad-- and he didn't have the confidence to list everything or the logical implications that came with each.

After spending a moment to recover, the young lady suddenly raised her voice.

"I mean-- why not Princess A..."

--and just as quickly, Cass' voice grew silent.

The eldest Shadow Snake Princess, Ananta, would have been a more appropriate leader, if not for certain circumstances.

Unfortunately, Ananta was emotionally distraught after Princess Suka's death.

...and the case was rather severe.

Last Tycon checked on her, she had stepped down from her role almost entirely. The other Shadow Snake nobles took on the responsibilities of logistics and the like.

They were somewhat lacking... but their armies would continue to function.

"What... about the Witch?" Cass asked.

Tycon shook his head. Bella might have been a literal goddess, but she was a teacher and a researcher, not a military leader.

And as a figurehead... the Sapphire Tower did not have a reputation for leading wartime operations.

The accomplished War Princess of Charm, however...

"It has to be you, Cass," he said. "You're versed in leading people of different species and creeds... and you're uniquely qualified to also command the respect of Ananta's forces. You, dear sister, are also a student of war-- a... Princess of War, so to speak."

"That's a senseless title that stuck ever since mom started calling herself that a ga-bajillion years ago," Cass whined.

Ah, right. Both he and his sister were also the children of Rylania, Queen of Stone, a fearsome and well-respected War Princess in her own right.

"And your brother is the most handsome and efficacious War Prince in the history of the Realm," he added.

"Only because mom doesn't have a diddly-doo..."

Peculiar language aside, the young lady's resistance seemed to have waned considerably.

That would do.

Tycon removed the metal insignias on his collar and began to affix them to the collar of his sister's robes.

She kept still and quiet, accepting them with grace.

"I'm not a good War Princess," she said in a soft voice. "I only know how to be a hateful, violent b*tch."

"Our strategies are similar," Tycon mused, "and we've done quite well, you and I."

"Brother..."

"Yes, (beautiful child?)"

"Does this... have something to do with what Suka said to you?"

Tycon hesitated. He didn't expect his sister to know about the dialogue he shared with the youngest Shadow Snake Princess... but that she did was unsurprising.

"It does," he admitted.

"Suka... she's gone now," Cass sniffed.

Ah. She was going to cry.

Ah... She was crying.

Of course.

Cass stepped forward, placing her face against Tycon's tunic.

"I told Mom," she said... "before I left-- I said I'd take you home. Forget about your stupid quests... just come back, Brother. I miss you... Mom does too."

Tycon closed his eyes and sighed, "I made a promise to Suka... and I intend to keep it."

"Then... then you'll make a promise to me, too!"

Cass took a half-step back, looking up.

Her gaze... was somewhat suspicious.

He did not like it.

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "What would you ask of me?"

"Promise me you'll come back," Cass said.

"I'll come back," Tycon replied.

Cass' eyes shifted, her pupils elongating vertically and the splashes of blue quickly replacing the color of her irises.

"Give me a time limit."

If she was trying to intimidate him, the effect was largely muted by her tears.

Still... Tycon took a moment to think. A time limit was fair. There were several of factions in the anti-lizard offensive operating on the guarantee that he was in the chain of command.

There was a great deal of trust in his title as the Tactician of Sol Invictus.

"Two suns," he declared.

"Be more specific."

"...48 bells?"

"And if you don't come back in two suns?" Cass asked.

"Wait longer," Tycon answered confidently.

"Not good enough," Cass growled. "And... and I want a contract."

What?

Tycon smiled gingerly, "That seems rather... excessive."

"I want a magical contract," Cass whined, "or you're not going!"

"Cass."

"Pleeeease? Brotherrrr?"

Tycon closed his eyes and took a breath, "Fine..."

Every. single. woman in his life... he could not win against.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Cass had hers closed. She had propped herself up on the tips of her toes and... had pursed her lips together for a reason unbeknownst to him.

As odd as she appeared... Tycon decided not to mind.

He swept aside his younger sister's green and black hair and gently kissed her forehead.

"I will return from the Outer Planes within 48 bells."

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