Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius wanted nothing more than to discount Ophelia's ramblings as meaningless family propaganda. Unfortunately, there was probably an inkling of truth to her outrageous claims.

Conquering the Water Temple was not going to be easy. No one was going to like it. It was entirely possible that they'd all die there and lose the resources he'd amassed.

"TYCON!" Ophelia raised her voice again, "at LEAST give me a good reason!"

"My uh... friend, per se..." Tycon reclined in his seat, his palms resting on the back of his neck... "he wants to kill the sea god."

The Arcanite Princess was not convinced. She drained the last of her wine before glaring down at Tycon with crossed arms.

"Really? You have *friends*, Tycon?"

"Yes?" Tycon furrowed his brows... "Are... *we* not friends, Ophelia?"

Ophelia's face scrunched up in confusion, "What?"

"We just spent some two bells in intellectual discourse."

"Because you were trying to prove me wr--" Ophelia paused, "No... Huh."

Her eyes widened for a half-second, as if something had finally dawned on her... "You've... given me a lot to think about."

Tycon pursed his lips, "Is that supposed to be an issue? Thinking?"

"You're... a lot nicer than you used to be, Tycon-- too nice..." The Moonwell sat down on the table across from Tycon and re-crossed her legs, "Tell me. What's changed?"

Tycon was tempted to tell her that he wasn't actually the previous Tycondrius she'd met... that his consciousness awoke a few years prior and everything since had been him trying to-- for the want of a better term, un-f*ck the problems he kept running into.

Admittedly, he was often tempted to abandon his myriad of quests... abandon his current sham of a life and go on a hedonistic rampage.

Copious amounts of alcohol. Murder. Carnal relations that may or may not be within the confines of monogamy... Murder.

But that's not how the world works. Tycon was a... just man who woke up in a foreign-yet-familiar world with superpowers. All he'd done since was to settle his debts so he could do as he liked without any tethers of obligation.

...That was the goal, anyroad.

He took a deep sigh and offered a guilted smile... "Maybe it's because... I have a girlfriend now?"

Thankfully, those words provided Ophelia a substantial amount of relief.

"I'd like to meet with her, then," She shrugged, "--to thank her personally."

The indirect insult did not go unnoticed.

Tycon crossed his arms, "I can't have changed that much."

"You're taking quests on behalf of others," Ophelia laughed. "If it were only earning favor from House Highblade, I'd understand... but you've nothing to gain from the Princess of the same Holy Country that cast House Charm out so many centuries ago..."

"I have plenty to gain," Tycon grumbled.

"Oh? And the womanizer-Captain's quest to kill the Sea God?" Ophelia winked.

"He's not... too terrible of a person," Tycon averted his gaze.

Not that he didn't enjoy the company of intelligent women, but Ophelia was being rather rude to continue touching upon the many holes in his arguments.

Ophelia let out a deep sigh, "Which also means that with your newfound conscience, you'd have volunteered Landris' location if you had it."

"N-not necessarily," Tycon mustered a glare.

"At least the pride of the Ivory Prince hasn't changed," Ophelia scoffed... "It's just... extended a bit further beyond just yourself."

She slipped the ring off of her left hand, examining it with reverent care... "I'm worried about him, Tycon... He's never been away this long... no letters, no way to contact him..."

Ophelia held it up, rotating it enough for Tycon to see the words engraved on the inside.

[Till death do us part.]

It was somewhat ominous, considering the lifespan of half the partnership.

"It was his idea," She whispered thoughtfully... as if she felt the need to explain.

"Noble of him to do so," Tycon rolled his eyes. "Humans don't live as long as we do."

Ophelia smirked. "I love him. That will never change... not in this life. Do you remember when I asked for your help in amending a particular contract ritual?"

"No," Tycon replied honestly.

"I changed the contract without the knowledge of my husband-to-be," Ophelia said in a soft voice. It was as if she'd rehearsed the line so often she no longer knew the words meant... "The contract will stand until my death, but not his. Elves are a stubborn lot."

That was... somewhat wrong. Elves were a seemingly fickle lot. They tended to react to events considering decades and centuries rather than a more-human view of seconds and suns.

"Women," Tycon groaned as he stood up. "Women, Ophelia, are a stubborn lot."

Ophelia ignored him despite her Elven ears. She continued staring at her ring, lost to her nostalgia.

...colored thirteen shades of pathetic.

The woman was rude, arrogant, petty... and an elf. Still... from what Tycon knew, she was a good person. And she was... something of a 'friend'-- enough from him to feel obligated into doing or saying something nice.

He walked over to her and... patted her on the back.

Physical contact was a sign of reassurance. It also cost him nothing.

"I... apologize," Ophelia wiped away a tear. "This is unbecoming of me as a leader."

"Your words, not mine," Tycon waved.

The woman's gaze darkened immediately.

...Though Tycon had the best intentions in mind, that seemed to be... the incorrect thing to say. To cover up for his mistake, he felt obligated to provide further assurance.

"I'm sure he's... alive?" He offered, "He's too stupid to die."

"That's what we said about Quay," Ophelia frowned.

Tycon pursed his lips, "I'm trying to lift your spirits, woman."

"Is that what you're doing?" The elf sighed dreamily as she replaced her ring on her finger, "I have a lot to warn your girlfriend about when I meet her."

Tycon flinched as if the words wounded him... but it wasn't something he could be upset about. Ophelia had a knack for insulting him... for targeting flaws he should be more keenly aware of.