Headed by a Snake

⟬ Present time. ⟭

"I dropped back into my room just as Nikandros threatened to enter," Sir Tychon casually explained.

"That's why your lamp was off..." Coraline pursed her lips, "You can see in the dark, because of your... bloodline."

"Correct," The noble frowned, narrowing his golden eyes as if confirming her suspicions was a blatant insult.

Coraline sighed... Conversing with this man made her feel like an idiot.

Tychon's starkly-colored eyes were a rarity-- unheard of amongst humans. The fact that he wasn't...

Well... that solved that mystery. It also gave a plausible reason to why the noble had an unnerving predatory aura about him.

He *was* a predator. Literally.

...a predator with a transformation ability.

"Oof," The thought made her shiver. Being in the presence of snakes made her uneasy.

"Now, then..." Tychon loomed over her, wearing an insidious smirk, "Aren't you going to thank me?"

Coraline's face twisted into a deep grimace. She did *not* like this person... not at all...

"Th-thank you, Sir Tychon. That's... that's the final piece of the puzzle."

"Hah. So you've figured it out," The young master nodded. "Well done."

Was he being sarcastic? Coraline sighed once again...

"All that's left..." She closed her eyes... "is to deal with the Inquisitors from the Church."

"First, we have to ensure the ship lands in Cersei's Rest." Tychon gestured towards the Engine Room, "The door, Miss Coraline-- if you would."

"R-right..."

Coraline took the chain off of her neck and approached the door, key in hand.

And because she was the dumbest person in the room and because the eleven heavens conspired against her... it slipped out of her hand, clinging onto the wooden deck.

She very much wanted to go upstairs and hide underneath her covers and never wake up.

Nothing was going well for her.

But UNFORTUNATELY, two people were essentially BLOCKING her escape-- and both of them had some sort of expectations for her which she DID NOT ASK FOR. But it was FINE.

It. was. fine.

With her cheeks and neck as hot as a teacup, she bent over to pick up her latest mistake-- only to be stopped by Lone grabbing onto her wrist.

"...Ummmm. Let go?" Coraline bit her lower lip, "You guys can trust me to at least open a door, right?"

"Take a look, young lady," Tychon warned from behind.

Coraline placed her attention on the grounded key... and retreated a slow step backward.

It had changed color... into a reddish gold.

The silvery chain it was attached to was the same-- and was quickly melting, darkening the wood underneath.

The entire room began to stink of burning wood.

With Lone still gripping her wrist, she grabbed onto the boy's arm.

She no longer wished to be on door-opening duty.

Tychon stepped past the two of them and raised his voice, "Open the door, little one!"

Coraline reared her head back in confusion. What... was the young master doing?

"I'm going to break it, if you don't," Tychon spoke aloud. He was... trying to intimidate the Engine Room door?

With a resounding click... it slowly crept open, a sweltering heat wafting out from within.

...Uhhhh...?

Coraline had learned... threeeee things~!

One: the path to the Engine Room was clear.

Two: It seemed very hot and unwelcoming in there.

And... three: Sir Tychon could communicate with inanimate objects.

Sure.

Why not?

"Thank you," The noble inclined his head politely before calmly striding into the heated room beyond.

...

Tycondrius hastily scanned the Engine Room.

At its center was a large crystalline formation connected to several smaller power sources, adjoined with metal tubes and various inserts. Runic script was painted on the floor, ceiling, and walls-- with bits on the central machine, as well.

At first glance, much of it was redundant-- excellent engineering. If one facet of the formation were to fail, the ship would remain airborne.

A vague 'figure' was coalesced in the corner, just out of sight. Its 'body' was made of many 'arms' and it was 'staring' intently-- at him, in particular.

It was the Golden Eagle's Elemental Spirit... and from its figuratively cold reception, it was not at all happy to see him.

Thankfully, Tycon knew how to best facilitate a dialogue with an ill-tempered spirit: beating it into submission.

"Hey, uh... Boss?" Lone crossed his arms, "Is my armor fireproof?"

"What? No," Tycon furrowed his brows, "Why would it be?"

"Is yours?"

"Also no."

With implicit agreement, Tycon began unbuttoning his robe while Lone began to strip off his gambeson.

Tycon put his ring on, appreciating the dry heat of the atmosphere against his bare skin.

He tossed his robe and shirt to the relative safety of 'outside' the Engine Room... and grimaced at Lone's Elven companion, "And what do you think *you* are doing, young lady?"

Coraline was in the middle of taking her own tunic off, "Wh... what?"

Did she think she was going to help? That was absurd. He quietly glared at the girl, intent on making her reconsider.

"F-fine!" Coraline yelped, fixing her attire. "I didn't want to help, anyroad!"

Tycon turned away so the young lady couldn't see him roll his eyes. Flicking his wrist and summoning a waterskin from his spatial ring, he tossed it over to Lone.

"Wait, what was that?!" Coraline asked from behind, "Y-your ring? Your ring!! It-- it stores things!!"

Tycon winced in disbelief...

He'd thought that was obvious. Perhaps the young detective was not as clever as he assumed.

He decided to mentally file the interaction away as an endearing trait. The more imbecile she was, the more likely she'd ignore Lone's multitudinous flaws. Perhaps their relationship might even work out.

"Weapons, Boss?" Lone asked.

"It's Iron-Rank," Tycon shrugged.

"IRON-RANK?!" Coraline echoed in a panic, "Oh, no! Ohhhh no... W...we need reinforcements. Olesya! Olesya can help! And-- and I need some time to prepare my spells!"

Tycon felt his eyebrow twitch at the Elven girl's noisiness. That was... a decidedly not-so-endearing trait. However, his own opinions of the young lady were irrelevant.

"Alright," Lone smirked. "Hand to hand combat, then?"

"If you're confident," Tycon chuckled.

"wat?" Coraline's jaw was unhinged, her eyes near-bulging out of her face.

Amusing.

The young Ranger unstoppered his waterskin, emptying its contents to drench his hair and skin. It would provide a thin layer of defense against bursts of flame. If the fight was prolonged and the film of water began to boil, the pain would be immense-- but that was none of Tycon's concern.

...The Elven girl's confusion had dissipated as she stared at Lone's half-naked body... almost hungrily. Mister Lone did have an impressive physique.

Lone stepped towards the blurry Elemental Spirit, "Can I go first, Boss?"

Was he trying to impress his lady-friend?

"Hm. Go ahead."

"WaAAaAit!" Coraline shouted, "Wha-wha-whaaaaat?!"

"Engaging the enemy," Lone raised his clenched fists in front of his face-- a traditional boxing stance.

In response, the Elemental Spirit materialized... a blazing fiery illusion with an orange hue. It seemed to take the form similar to that of the late Captain, a medium height humanoid with smooth, uncertain features, wearing a wispy, golden military coat.

Approaching his opponent in measured steps, Lone quickly jabbed his off-hand, then his main... In doing so, the young man had sheathed his arms in mana. The additional barrier would further protect his flesh as he pummeled the amorphous entity.

Tycon had no idea when the young man had learned to do such a thing... and he doubted he'd done it consciously.

Still... he approved.

"⌈Whirl Strike!!⌋" Lone opened with a quick series of double-strike punches. He was treating the spirit as if he were fighting a normal two-armed, two-legged humanoid.

It worked.

The spirit may have been Iron-Rank, but it seemed to have been 'raised' in captivity and was unused to fighting. Lone's physical attacks began to overwhelm his opponent's fiery form as it tried to defend itself with its own clumsy appendages.

Tycon wondered if it was... taught to not use bursts of fire, as it could irrevocably damage its surroundings.

Lone picked the spirit up by its 'legs' and slammed it against the hull, briefly illuminating the Engine Room with a bright flash. Blackened char marks and bits of embers remained on the wood.

"This thing's reeeeeally HOT!" Lone yelped.

"Then stop grappling it, you fool!" Tycon shouted as he began smudging the lines on the hull, improvising repairs to the protective formations. "Quick strikes! Keep AWAY from the walls!!"

"Sorry!!!" He replied, guilt in his voice.

Coraline grabbed onto Tycon's arm and shook him, "Is... is Mister Lone going to be alright?!"

For whatever reason, she had also placed a hand on his own unclothed abdomen.

"It's... probably fine?" He shrugged, gently prying her hand off.

The Ranger was not currently disadvantaged... but all combat carried a degree of risk and possible death.

"It doesn't look fine!" Coraline insisted.

"Tss," Tycon scoffed. "Stand back and watch. If you won't believe in him-- I always have."