Headed by a Snake

The blonde Elven whelpling, once again, inquired Tycondrius about his... okay-ness.

The notion was beginning to lose its meaning.

"Yes. I'm... okay?" Tycon answered-- though with less confidence than he would have liked. "Is there a conspicuous indication to me being *not* 'okay'?"

"You killed that guy," Coraline replied.

"I kill plenty of guys," Tycon groaned-- "and women! And I'm not above killing children, if the situation is appropriate."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm an equal-opportunity murderer," Tycon insisted.

"That guy you killed," Coraline said with a frown, "He already surrendered."

"He *asked* to be killed," Tycon argued.

"He asked for *mercy,*" Coraline chided. "You can't just assume that means mercy *killing.* Or were you trying to cut costs on the magical healing again?"

Tycon found himself mildly intimidated by the sapling's stare... "I named my sword 'Mercy.'"

Coraline appeared to be struck with awe. Her mouth hung open for several moments before she closed it.

She corrected her posture before continuing.

"Tycon... I'm not trying to be mean, but... you have to know that the name of your sword doesn't make it okay to commit war crimes."

Hm. The notion was one that Tycon had to contemplate.

"...Your concerns have been... noted."

"Tycon."

Tycon was reluctant to continue the conversation-- especially since, for most of it, he was the weaker party.

Unfortunately, he'd lost his means for magical ⌈Flight⌋ and was not in the mood to move faster than a walking pace.

Unable to escape, he gave the sapling a reply.

"What is it now?"

"We're friends, right?" Coraline asked.

Though Tycon knew the question was prefacing something he certainly did not want to hear, he felt obliged to answer honestly.

"That... is an acceptable term to describe our relationship."

"Tycon," Coraline said with a glare.

"Yes, yes," he waved. "We're friends."

"Then. I need. You. To take care of yourself."

Tycon's face twisted into a scowl.

"Has anyone told you that your 'cleverness' can be... *frustrating* to deal with?"

"It's implied in just about every conversation I have," Coraline said with a noncommittal shrug. "But now that that's clear, what else do we need to do to take Making?"

To take Making?

The notion made Tycon laugh aloud.

City-State Making had already fallen, yet those involved had yet to realize it.

"The initial series of flights have successfully accomplished their respective missions. The enemy's chain of command is in shambles and they were barely able to field a tenth of their Divine Armors."

"What about their standing army?" Coraline asked, "I read the reports."

"One of our predictions was that Making's leadership would muster a majority of their forces outside of their walls," Tycon explained, "as a show of force; to buy time; to take advantage of their maneuverability, perhaps. Bella volunteered to deal with them."

"President Bella did?" Coraline said, tilting her head curiously. "What sort of plan did she have?"

Tycon matched the young lady's head tilt, adding a shrug. "A series of medium-scale offensive Spells cast in succession."

The Witch in his memories was not nearly as powerful. Considering her bloodline, her development over so-many-years was extraordinary.

Ultimately, though, it was Bella's dedication to her craft that allowed her to excel far past so many of her peers.

--or that's what he chose to believe.

Coraline nodded quietly to herself... "So what else needs to be done before we can go home?"

⊰ home ⊱

Beatrice flitted in a circle around Tycon's head.

⊰ lunch? ⊱

Lunch.

He wasn't 100% certain what a fire elemental consumed for sustenance. However, taking a break for a meal sounded lovely.

He recalled Zeta Squad's mission. Completing it would strike another decisive blow to what remained of Making's resistance.

As with any forceful occupation, some lizard loyalists would remain-- rebels in his eyes. Tycon would deal with those when the time came.

"The city's *acclaimed* magical defenses," he said.

"Wh-what about them?"

"Let's break them," Tycon smiled. "And afterward, I'd like you and Beatrice to join me for lunch."

There was a slight twitch of Coraline's left ear before she turned, wearing a look of confusion.

"Tycon? Did you *not* eat lunch before the operation?"

"I did," Tycon admitted. "But the prospect of second-lunch is an appealing one, no?"

⊰ juice ⊱

"Two-thirds of our party find the notion agreeable," Tycon added.

"A-alright then," Coraline sighed before motioning for Tycon to follow, "Let's... let's talk to Zashleigh."

"Tss. Don't be absurd, Sapling," Tycon scoffed, "What use is your Squad Leader at identifying and disrupting formations? She can't even properly identify a Hellish Rebuke Spell. Eternal Battlefield? How asinine."

"Was that... wrong??"

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Superheated iron blades? Dark, almost-green smoky haze? Any initiate Mage should be able to identify the material as native to the Iron City."

"Well-- whatever! Be nice!" Coraline insisted, her tone mottled with annoyance-- "on account of our friendship."

"Tss," Tycon scoffed, averting his gaze. "I'd like to think that most 'friendships' aren't so demanding."

"Sir."

"Hmph. Very well."

Returning to Zeta Squad's defensive camp, Tycon found Ashleigh Yates deep in concentration, staring at a third-rate Spell Circle.

He called for her.

He... called for her again, using a different name in the case his first assumption was incorrect.

Then, for a moment, he removed his Amulet of Obscuration, concerned that its anti-scrying properties hid him from the Squad Leader's senses.

Still, the human did not respond.

"She gets like this sometimes," Coraline explained. "I do too, honestly. But I'm also pretty sure I have clinical depression."

"Fascinating," Tycon mused. "I've never seen someone so immersed in a simple clock."

"Huhhhh?" Coraline said in exaggerated disbelief, "How do you know it's a clock?"

"Because I am familiar with clocks," Tycon answered simply. "It's a clock. If you'll shift your attention to that column and row, those symbols are changing, but within a set pattern."

Finally, the human girl trembled lightly, breaking out of her trance.

"Huh? Wh-why is... why are *you* here?" She asked-- and rather rudely.

Tycon turned to his right, facing a magical shadow that coalesced into the form of another Tower Witch.

Its image was of a young Illusion Mage he remembered as... Jessica.

"I'll handle this, Zash," The shadow said. "Hi. Excuse me, Sir."

"You're excused," Tycon nodded politely.

"Can I take you out?" Jessica asked. "Like-- to dinner?"

Squad Leader Ashleigh cut the shadow apart with a swipe of her left hand.

It was an impressive display of technical skill, to so quickly identify and Counterspell Jessica's illusionary image. It was then that he recalled the woman's unique Class.

Spellbreaker.

Granted, one could still be a Spellbreaker, despite having the intellectual capacity of a--

"This is a restricted area," Ashleigh said. She stood as tall as her height allowed, speaking with confidence and authority.

Though, despite her declaration, Tycon found... no evidence of any restriction on... any persons present. There were Tower Witches posted around the perimeter, but they did not contest his presence.

Also, his role as Commander made him at *least* Bella's equal in status and respect deserved.

Tycon dropped his hand down, resting his palm on the hilt of the lovely sword resting on his waist.

Unfortunately, Coraline seemed to notice this. Her glare made it clear that Mercy was an unacceptable course of action.

Tycon forced a professional smile and rendered a respectful bow.

"Miss... hm. I couldn't help but notice you were having issues with your... clock."

"Zash!" Coraline barked, "We're-- I brought the Commander here to see if he could help."

Ashleigh's face twisted into a number of different expressions... none of which Tycon could identify as positive or negative.

"Look," She sighed. "I get that you're a super-skilled combat Mage, Sir. But formations on this scale require years of study in the most esoteric of magics to understand."

"You are a child and I find the breadth of your knowledge to be grossly inadequate," Tycon said.

"YOU LOOK SO YOUNG, Zash! I TOTALLY AGREEeeee!!" Coraline screamed, "And there's-- there's always more to learn! Always!! Ha! Ha! HA! HA! HA!"

The elf grabbed onto Tycon's wrist.

It was... quite hot. If Coraline applied any more mana, his skin would begin to sizzle.

"(Dearest Ancient,) She said in Elven, "(I have made a request. You will honor it as assuredly as the stars rise and fall.)"

Tycon was planning to argue, but, thankfully, Ashleigh loosed a loud sigh.

"Whatever. My concentration's broken. You're already here. And, if anything, I've known Heartsong long enough to trust her judgment."

"I'm really, *really* sorry about this, Zash," Coraline said, bowing her head.

"It's, like, fine," Ashleigh admitted. "Honestly, I've been having some issues bridging the gap between theory and application."

The women appeared to be finished speaking their implication-ridden conversation. Tycon didn't understand what had come to pass... but he was fairly certain it had become socially acceptable for him to speak.

"Wonderful," he smiled. "Coraline. Little one. Please, overcharge the formation."

⊰ yes ⊱

"Wait," Coraline waved her hands. "No?"

⊰ yesss ⊱

"NooOO!" The elf complained, "Tycon! What do you mean *overcharge* the formation!? How would I be able to find the input circle if I can't parse a single layer??"

Tycon pursed his lips, looking at the formation, then back to the curiously angry blonde.

"Have you... tried?"

",