Headed by a Snake
851 Without Words
⟬ Elsewhere on Moon Crescent Isle. ⟭
There were plenty of places for Zhevra to hide among the coniferous trees.
She focused mana into her eyes to sharpen her vision... something she tried not to do often.
When she did, her eyes glowed a tell-tale crimson.
It made her easy to see in the dark.
...It also gave people another reason to distrust her-- as if her forked tail, red skin, and ram horns weren't enough.
Zhevra saw... Corallidae.
The crew of the Neptune's Revenge were walking through the forest clearing.
And, lo and behold, they brought their Captain with them.
...just as she paid them to do.
"Oyyyy," A familiar Corallidus called out. "Come on out, girlie. We'z know yer 'ere, some-WHERE, eh?"
The speaker, his name was Stickyfingers. She found him... charming.
He was like her... an opportunist.
He was wise-- or more intelligent than his brutish exterior and rough speech would suggest.
Zhevra observed the Corallidus' 'Captain'... the first time not through the lens of a spyglass.
...At the very least, he was not... unpleasant to look at.
The reports she read used words like 'suave' and 'charming'... while also pointedly avoiding the word 'handsome.'
Captain Krysaos had a face... that made a woman want to knee him in the groin or stab him through the heart. He was... an untrustworthy scam artist, a womanizer... filth scraped off of one's boots after treading through a sewer.
But besides that, the rest of him was fine.
He was physically fit and perfectly shaven... as could only be expected of a military man. His clothes were professional, save for battle scars-- stitched closed, or covered by patches.
He wore an oversized leather tricorne hat-- perhaps to compensate for small genitals.
Ah, but his eyes... they were dark.
He had suffered much in recent suns.
His Lieutenant-- his personal whore, she was killed on the deck of his very ship. Soon after, his crew sold him to Blackrot Wound, the Dark Guild with the most successful contract completion rate in the Eastern States.
Zhevra relaxed her body... the tension draining out of her neck and shoulders.
She was certain. That man was the infamous Captain Krysaos.
She could feel it, almost palpable.... the icy coldness of his fury... his hopelessness and despair.
Stickyfingers looked up-- the only Corallidus to do so.
For a brief moment, he and Zhevra locked eyes.
He knew... but he did not alert the others to her presence.
Zhevra returned a warm smile.
Comrade Stickyfingers was a professional. She appreciated that.
...He could be trusted. His loyalty to wealth and coin had proved far stronger than his loyalty to a single human male.
Zhevra dropped down from her hiding spot, whipping her hair back... then stood and slung her Turathi rifle over her back.
The squad of Corallidae, they frowned and glared and spat on the dirt as she approached.
Was it because of her skin? Or was it because she was a woman?
She did not let it bother her.
Zhevra made deals, not friends...
The human, he glared hatefully at Stickyfingers.
He said nothing... but that look... it spoke of thoughts and emotions, far more than mere words were capable.
"So this is the *legendary* Captain Krysaos," Zhevra grinned, softly biting her lip with her fangs, "You've done well, comrade."
She tossed over a small bag at the pale Corallidus' feet.
The rest of the payment was in small gems-- easier to carry... undeniably valuable, no matter the port.
The coin would ease the crew's collective guilt.
Zhevra smiled as Stickyfingers inspected the goods.
She did not short-change her partner-in-crime out of good faith. If he was as clever as she thought, the sack of spoils would be worth even more than they'd agreed upon.
Stickyfingers tied the sack to his waist, nodding in satisfaction, "Pleasure doin' business wiv ya."
"Now, with payment complete," She pursed her lips together, subconsciously letting out a soft moan... "OoOohh... I would like your... *assistance* in murdering your Captain."
"Nah," Stickyfingers waved dismissively, "Ain't part o' da deal."
"Oh?" Zhevra licked her lips with her long tongue, "What else do you want? For me to *suck* it again?"
"OUR work's done-- an' done *good*," The Corralidus shrugged while chuckling lightly. "Any more'll cost'cha extra. A lot extra."
It was... somewhat reasonable to ask for more coin for services rendered... but it was also insulting.
The crew had already figuratively stabbed their Captain in the back.
That they refused to do so literally-- that Stickyfingers, in particular, refused to do so... left her with a bitter distaste in her mouth.
"Hmph," Zhevra frowned, "Very well. Leave me with him."
Captain Krysaos quietly crossed his arms... brooding... glowering...
His 'trusted' men turned their backs.
They left him... leaving no words behind... not one of them sparing a single look.
It was painful to watch.
Zhevra knew betrayal.
It was not something she enjoyed seeing... or causing.
She'd have gone against her employer's wishes, if she could.
But... she liked money.
...She also liked being alive.
"And why are *you* still here?" Zhevra growled, "I'm no longer in *mood* for physical pleasure."
Stickyfingers opened his mouth-- to say something stupid-- sexist, perhaps... but there were footsteps approaching from the opposite direction.
The pale Corallidus acted quickly, and despite his frame, he hid himself in the foliage almost completely.
Likewise, Zhevra scrambled up her tree-- the second time climbing, easier than the first.
Zhevra furrowed her brows, immediately recognizing the Dark Elven woman emerging from the shadows.
She had been followed... She had eschewed stealth for speed, but at the pace she moved--
...The tunic underneath Imperia's coral armor plates was burgeoning red.
That fool girl...
Her wounds had opened.
"I'm here, Krysaos," Imperia declared... "I know... you have a lot... to say to me."
Zhevra grit her teeth. What could this girl possibly expect from this conversation?!
The Princess had SHOT and KILLED Krysaos' lover.
Facing him as he was... she was setting herself up for suffering-- she was courting death.
Krysaos turned away.
Even without words... his body language was clear...
There was no forgiveness... not for her.
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