Headed by a Snake

"Huh? The girl with the chest flatter 'an a washboard?" Krysaos raised his eyebrows, "What way're you talkin' about?"

Mina turned away, "N-nevermind."

"Listen, Mina," Krysaos placed a hand behind his neck, "Now... I know I'm not that strong... but everyone here-- they know me... that's the kind of reputation I have.

"It's why... I can walk around with my head held high... 'cause no matter the sea we're sailing, no matter the port we dock, my name's worth somethin'."

The mermaid girl took his hand and she held it tight...

Mina... she was a good girl, that Mina.

"But... your crew knows your worth, Krysaos... I know it. You're... brave. You're loyal. You try to do the right thing, despite the danger to your very life!"

Her... sincerity gave Krysaos pause.

So that's how she thought of him...

Also, the reminder that he might just die on account of his pride cleared up his mind a little bit.

"Krysaos..." She said, "Why does it matter what everyone else thinks?"

Yeah. Krysaos felt a whole lot of guilt filling his heart. Much like everything else in his life, even his relationship with Mina was a lie. He wasn't actually the guy who pulled the sword out of the stone. It was Tycon... but that guy pawned off the Heart of the Ocean like it was a prickly pufferfish.

He gently pried the mermaid's hand away... "Come on, Mina. You guys don't just follow me 'cuz I'm a nice guy."

"Master!" Mina snatched his hand back, "I... follow you... because I... I..."

She pressed his hand to her... left boob?

...It was more firm than he expected, but it was still definitely a boob.

"You respect me," Krysaos nodded. "I get it."

He looked beyond her... like an old sage beyond all worldly desires-- all while actively resisting the urge to squeeze, "But that ain't enough for the world we live in...

"A guy's reputation's all about how people see him... but you gotta understand. That perception goes both ways.

"This isn't just about me, Mina... 'cause y'see... the crew of the Neptune's Revenge... follows a guy that's brave and gallant and handsome and whatever...

"So because o' that, it's my duty to you... to live up to that ideal... to keep proving to everyone that I'm worthy of my name."

'And to myself," Krysaos thought...

"Anyroad," He pointed at his chest with his thumb, "I gotta stand up for myself. I gotta show that King guy and everyone that has even a tiny bit of doubt... that I ain't a coward... that I deserve respect..."

He flashed Mina his full smile... "an' that I really am the guy that you believe me to be."

It was real tough, acting brave even though his belly felt like he'd just drank half a jar of gutrot. Ever since Krysaos met up with Tycon... it seemed every other sun, he was forced to act on all his bluster.

So in the end... it really was all his own damned fault he kept getting into life-threatening situations.

Really... if he knew how much work there was in being a gods-damned hero, he would've asked Tycon to just leave him on that deserted island to die...

"M... master," Mina sniffed.

Sea god's anal beads. She was crying.

...and it was a full-on hull breach, too, tears going on and on without end.

Krysaos cleared his throat and placed both of his hands on the girl's shoulders, "Mina."

"Uh... uh huh?"

"I need you."

Mina's voice perked up immediately, "Y... you do?"

Krysaos gulped, suddenly nervous... "Will you... lend me your weird-but-deceptively-strong magic powers?"

Mina nodded clumsily, wiping her eyes with her wrists... "You, Krysaos... in all of my thousands of years... you... are the only one to have captured the Heart of the Ocean."

Krysaos pursed his lips, "Is that a... yes?"

Mina sniffed again, forcing a smile even though she had turned into a portable water fountain, "I accept the ⌈Contract⌋, Master. May my soul be ever bound to yours, ever faithful... until the end of my suns."

...

The charcoal-skinned dark elf scowled at Tycondrius as he approached her, "What do you want, Maedar?"

⟬ Imperia Vulkoori, Iron-Rank Elven Storm Cleric. ⟭

The young woman was a young Princess of the once-powerful House Vulkoori, though that name in recent decades amounted to little. She was an arrogant, acid-tongued brat-- and a few moons prior, Tycon had nearly killed her for it.

After adventuring together for so long, her personality had been tempered greatly... enough that she and Krysaos would argue for bells on end... like a married couple.

Even if she would not openly admit it, the young lady had become... an integral part of the family that was the crew of Neptune's Revenge.

Tycon flicked his wrist, conjuring up a small package from his spatial ring, "Last we conversed, you mentioned longing for the taste of pink apples."

Imperia eyed the small wrap with mindful suspicion... "I've never had them dried before."

"The dehydration process makes them taste sweeter."

The woman took the package with a nod... "I'll accept, then... but really-- what do you want?"

"An acknowledgment of gratitude would be appropriate," Tycon said flatly.

When he was replenishing general supplies-- soap, cooking oil, spices, and the like; the grocer gave him samples of his dried snacks, free of charge.

They were admittedly mediocre, but Tycon reasoned they'd make for an appreciable gift.

"...My thanks, Maedar," Imperia pursed her lips... "Forgive me. I am... unused to receiving gifts without some kind of recompense."

Tycon tilted his head, "Young lady, I've nothing to ask of you... other than respect and basic cordiality, of course."

"Y-yeah," Imperia sighed... "I know."

"I advise you to become accustomed to it, Princess of the Vulkoori," Tycon offered a polite smile, "--that is, should you continue to associate yourself with Princes and Kings."

Imperia twisted her lips to the side, "Are not all nobles schemers?"

"They are," Tycon smirked... "but there are many with their eyes upon far greater prizes."