Headed by a Snake

A Titanblood emerged from the iron hatch. He was covered in blood, cuts, and char marks and one of his arms was obviously broken. He screamed himself hoarse, begging and pleading.

High Wizard Trayus immediately cast Arcane Lock on the iron door.

Trayus pulled down his hood and summoned his lieutenants, "Gather all the Circle Mages and Ritual Casters in 10 minutes-- no, as many as you can in 5. I want a layered Arcane Lock on that door."

Two of his Circle Mages saluted, "Yes, sir!"

Jejeka Banjeka, the vertically challenged popoto-skinned, Popoto-sized magician danced in a panic, alternating his bouncing legs, "What do I do? What do I do?"

Trayus grimaced, "Master Druid."

A nearby mage wearing antlers on his forehead nodded, "As you command, High Wizard... Calm Emotions!!"

A gentle mist of mana washed over the Popoto, calming him down almost immediately... "High Wizard, 5 members of Guild Invictus went down there. 3 of them were Iron-Rank... including Councilor Naedrielle."

Trayus let out a sigh, "Stars and stones... House Windwhisper will not be pleased. Mage Jejeka, get the Titanblood and his companion to an infirmary. If their injuries are severe, have the Healers use potions or scrolls."

The antlered mage coughed, "Our side has taken casualties, as well, High Wizard."

Trayus shook his head, "Whatever they fought down there was in defense of the city... and likely the Kingdom. If it wasn't Guild Invictus to face that threat, it would be us. We can spare a few scrolls as thanks and as condolences."

...

"Was it the best you could do?"

Dragan awoke to a surge of healing mana. He was in a white room that smelled like sterilizing soaps, lying on three beds pushed together. He sighed. The ringing in his ears hadn't gone away.

Tycon was sitting patiently in front of him, wearing silver armor and the bright blue tabard of the Kingdom's soldiers. His familiar frowning face was a comforting sight.

"Hey, Boss," Dragan tried to wave his hand. Then he noticed his arm was molded into a cast, "Oh. Looks like I broke my arm. That's embarrassing."

Tycon stared, his golden eyes silently pressuring Dragan to keep speaking. He was tacitly asking for an explanation.

Dragan averted his gaze, "If I waited for reinforcements, the Duke would have known. If I went with any less, none of us would have made it back."

Tycon walked to the window and opened the wooden shutters to let more of the daylight in, "Report."

Dragan grinned sheepishly, "Do I gotta stand, Boss? I'm pretty messed up right now."

Tycon turned and groaned in annoyance, "No, you red-haired gorilla. Just tell me what you've discovered."

Dragan shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, "Underneath one of the Duke's warehouses, we found a manifest zone that led to a pocket dimension connected to the Plane of Fire. We disrupted a ritual circle that held is stability, but the Flamebriar Monarch showed up."

Dragan hesitated, but Tycon allowed him his brief silence... "Naedrielle died to buy us some time. Maximus exploded his dovahkiin life essence to buy us some time. Tamaki managed to trigger the mechanism allowing us to escape, but he got grabbed right as we were climbing up."

Silence enveloped the room.

Finally, Tycon spoke, "I see..."

"Barza? Is he?"

"Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, is alive and decently well. He woke up before you and has been bawling and babbling about losing some woman named Yaeger," Tycon explained.

Dragan shook his head, "Brain damage?"

"Likely a false memory stemming from a traumatic brain injury," Tycon agreed.

"To report on my end: The children are fine. I got arrested for a sun. We found purchase records that condemn the Duke to incarceration, along with what you and Guild Trayus discovered the other night."

"Oh, that's good. Bucket's alive," Dragan remarked.

Tycon nodded, "Yeah. The little shite-ling Taree, too."

"Hey, Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be fucked up if I cried?" Dragan asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, man. Allow me to lock the door..."

...

In the mercenary profession, you don't think less of another man when he cries. In this line of work, there is always loss. There are always what-if's. What if Dragan was a little bit stronger? What if the team was different, if Tycon had accompanied them, or if they enlisted the help of the Trayus guild leader? What if they moved faster or waited a sun later?

Ultimately, unless a god came about and used a 9th or higher Circle spell to reverse time, it didn't matter. No god was so benevolent.

Maximus was a Paladin. He died like any other mortal.

Tycon asked Dragan what they usually did when someone in the company died.

"Same as in any company," he said. "We drink."

And so the green-haired, youthful-looking boy drank with the triple-bedded red-headed giant.

Pale and Taree knocked on the door. They brought sweetbreads from the baker, Heloise. They had accompanied Guild Trayus in seeing that the Duke was arrested. His warehouses were seized, as well as his estate. Everything he owned would be sold off, including all of the "art" he'd collected.

It was good to know. Tycon was planning on visiting the manor that night. He still had explosives from House Muto in his spatial ring.

Pale took the news well, keeping a solemn face. The boy was a veteran member of Guild Invictus, and some had died under his father's command.

...Former leader Quay was still missing and Pale yet held onto the hope that he lived. It was just as well. The bastard could still be alive, for all Tycon knew.

Kimura Taree did not take it well. She wailed. She wanted to fight. Tycon was prepared to have Pale cast another Sleep scroll on her. But even she couldn't keep her anger when she saw the lasting evidence of crying on Dragan's face.

Invincible Dragan. Unstoppable Dragan. Always grinning, always smiling Dragan. Impossibly honest. Drunk. Foolish. Violent. Cunning.

A good man, that Dragan. As well as Maximus, a noble, honest man.

Taree kept asking Tycon if he was okay. Of course, he was okay.

She was the one who lost her blood brother. Idiot.

They had moved Lone to Dragan's room. Together, the 5 of them talked. They told stories, how they felt, what Maximus would laugh at, stories of Tamaki growing up, even how a mysterious woman named Yaeger managed to save Lone.

An entire sun had passed, talking, grieving together. Tycon did not deem the time spent as a waste. It was necessary.

Pain shared is pain divided. Joy shared is joy multiplied.

"What happens now?" Taree asked.

Tycon looked to Dragan, "We do what we must. Mister Dragan?"

Dragan sighed staring at the ceiling, "We need to report to the Gatekeepers. A faction from the Plane of Fire has declared war on us."