Headed by a Snake



After nearly two entire seconds of sheer, abject terror, Tycon regained his bearing, firmly placed his hands over Natalya's, and corrected the rotation of Starfury's front-to-back axis. 

"I-- I'm not answering!" Natalya yelped. 

It took Tycon several more seconds for him to remember the conversation from moments prior. 

That woman... she had a strong heart. 

Or, otherwise, she did not fear a painful and violent death. 

"Besides," she said-- "I can't abandon Troia to pursue happiness on my own..."

Ah. That made sense. Natalya and the High Oracle were as close as blood-related sisters.

A slow smile crossed Tycon's lips... as he decided to tempt death once more. 

"Natalya," he said... "if Troia was to give her blessing, would you accept my marriage proposal?"

"S-stop testing me, Snake," came the soft, quavering response. 

Tycon swept a lock of the Archbishop's scarlet hair behind her ear. Then, he leaned forward and whispered softly. 

"Natalya," he said... "My name... I want you to say it."

Her face radiated with heat. 

That seemed to be a positive response.

"T... ty..."

Hmmm. Natalya was trying. But it seemed that, in her affected mental state, she had forgotten his name? 

Tycon was very much enjoying himself. Admittedly, though... it was rather rude of him. He was eliciting a fear-like response. 

Why Natalya was nervous or fearful, he didn't quite understand... but he was a predator. 

He liked to see his prey squirm. 

"I... I can't do it!" Natalya whined-- "n-not on command! What am I, your dog?"

Tycon grabbed hold of the woman's hands, preventing any attempt at veering Starfury off course or plummeting into the Sea God's neglected domain. 

"And *you* don't know if she'll agree!" Natalya argued, "Does she even like you? Would she even like someone *like* you??"

Those were... odd accusations. Tycon was no stranger to the hero party and its members, Troia included. 

And considering his relationship with the Holy Princess, he felt... an unfathomable level of trust and goodwill toward him. 

Honestly, he deserved neither from the young woman-- especially not to the extent she conveyed. 

Tycon was suspicious that she had romantic feelings for Pale. 

There might have been a connection with that? Perhaps Troia, in wanting to seem agreeable to the boy, sought to match his faith toward Sol Invictus and its handsome leader. 

But... that was... quite a stretch in logic. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. 

Still...

Thinking on it, Tycon found that he was more fond of her than he realized. 

"Tycon..." Natalya said, her tone probing... "Where is the High Oracle right now?"

That... was a dangerous question.

--especially considering how Natalya's emotional stability had a direct correlation to his in-flight safety. 

"Dear wife..."

"*Dear* husband," Natalya said in a low voice... "I'm only going to ask once."

"Err... before I answer... you understand that... my mission as... as dragonslayer-- it has a very small chance of succeeding."

"But you will," Natalya said sternly. 

"Eh?" Tycon pursed his lips. 

"You'll succeed," she said. 

She was serious. 

Confident. 

Doubtless. 

Tycon was almost envious that she could be so certain of another person. 

He wasn't even certain when his next meal would be. 

"...Thank you, Natalya," he whispered. 

"I wouldn't seriously consider a marriage proposal from a failure," she mumbled. 

"But you'd consider it from a snake?" Tycon teased.

"By the Flame, I will *turn* this Divine Armor around--"

"My apologies!" Tycon said in a firm voice, "I misspoke."

"Right... and Troia-- her location is...?"

"I sent her away," Tycon answered honestly. 

Slowly, Natalya turned her head to look at him. 

"You... sEnT... HeR... a-*wHaT*?" 

Uh...

"Away?"

"I *heard* you, Snake. Explain thy meaning."

"We... took a Gate from the Plane of Fire--"

"The Plane of FIRE?!" Natalya screeched. 

"Natalya," Tycon chided. "Please... allow me to speak."

"Hmph."

And so, Tycon continued: 

"After arriving at Hero's Hearth and receiving news of the coming cataclysm... I sent Troia and her companions Off-Realm."

"Off. F*ck-ing. Realm?!" Natalya said, strongly emphasizing each syllable... "You mean a-WAY from our Realm??"

"Y-yes... That is what Off-Realm means."

"Whyyy?!" the Archbishop demanded, "We can keep Troia *safe* as long as she's in THIS Realm! Ours! The one WE. are. ON!"

Tycon squinted his eyes, "Arguable. I deemed the safety of the Holy Princess more certain in the presence of the Hero."

The young man was stronger than both him and Natalya... and his strength would grow in the years to come. 

"The. He-ro?" Natalya groaned. 

Tycon shook his head. At that point in the conversation, he had doubted that the woman was even listening. 

"Yes, the Hero," he said in a monotone voice. "You were there when he was selected. The boy. Pale."

Natalya's ire grew steadily with every word. 

"You... abandoned... my sister," she growled... "the leader... of the Holy Country... in the care... of a bOy... NaMeD... BUCKETTT??!"

...When she said it like that, it sounded like he made a rather poor decision. 

Tycon kept a keen guard of Starfury's control panel. 

Natalya was applying a great deal of force and effort in trying to kill them both... but thankfully, he was... physically capable of stopping her. 

It was odd... 

Considering Natalya's surprise, it was entirely possible that she was unaware of Troia's movements over the past two years. Since the Hero Party's formation, the Holy Princess had been by Bucket's side. 

And while only two years passed in the mortal Realm, they spent more than twice that amount of time in the Outer-Planes.

Troia had even grown taller than Natalya (though the latter's predilection for lifted shoes and boots would counterbalance the fact.) 

"I was *told* that Troia was on a diplomatic mission to see the Nemayan Queen," the Archbishop explained. 

"It seems Pale found her from there. Things happened. Plane of Ice. Snow Princess. Plane of Fire. Hellborne Army. Subplane of Fire and Dirt. Met the Gatekeepers."

"Hellborne ARMY?!" Natalya gasped, "And really? The f*cking Gatekeepers? I thought they were a myth!"

"I uh... it... wasn't my fault?" Tycon suggested.

"That... f*cking boy," Natalya growled, gnashing her teeth. "When I see him again..."

Tycon quietly took a breath, somewhat relieved. 

He had successfully redirected Natalya's anger toward Pale.

That was the best-case scenario. Pale was Off-Realm and therefore safe from Natalya and Starfury... the instrument of her... fury. 

Hm. 

"Snake," Natalya began. 

"Husband, you mean." Tycon corrected.

"Husband," Natalya seethed... "I have... a lot... of f*cking questions right now... and YOU are going to answer ALL OF THEM!"

"Natalya? The controls? N-natalya?"