Headed by a Snake

⟬ A short time and two physical skirmishes later... ⟭

It pained Tycondrius' heart to accept the circumstances... but Hades' explanation was quite clear.

His best course of action was to surrender Rena to Khalkyd's care.

The steel-skinned, empty-headed pigeon was only the first divine being to arrive.

He was one of the most powerful agents the heavens had to offer... but if he could not complete his mission, more would come... and in greater numbers.

It was possible for Tycon to take Rena into hiding.

The forces of heaven were not as sensitive to the passage of time as mortals. It could take decades before they sent more pursuers.

...Or it could take moons... or suns.

Ultimately, though... Tycon had to consider the young lady and what was best for her.

Smuggling Rena back to the mortal Realm would put her in an odd state between life and death. Sentient undead were unwelcome in most nations... and proper undead would be naturally repulsed by her divine magics.

Also, her memories were irreparably damaged. Rena struggled to hold basic conversation, often hesitating, stuttering, or crying without explanation-- such was her frustration.

...Actively evading the forces of heaven would not be ideal in her condition.

Alternatively, Rena of Leopardon returning to the goddess of her people... was something far more fitting.

The small brunette hugged him tightly as she cried, "I'm... so sorry."

Tycon had already apologized to her over a dozen times... and she to him, thrice more.

The girl had cried so much that she'd gone through three full waterskins to rehydrate herself.

It was... baffling.

Tycon had never encountered such an ability... and try as he might, he could not think of a way to weaponize it.

He gently consoled her by rubbing her back. He'd discovered it was the easiest way to calm her.

"It will be fine, Rena. You're going to a better place."

"Will... will they have Olea Garden over there?" She sniffed.

"Absolutely not," Tycon insisted.

She was going to a heaven, not a hell.

Rena's tears began again in earnest.

Empty night.

"Ahem," Khalkyd cleared his throat.

What did that fellow want?

Tycon pulled Rena into his embrace... while positioning himself to block the steel angel from her view.

"I... believe..." Khalkyd paused-- likely to give his tiny brain time to form words... "there may be one in Elysia."

"Oh? Did that get finished building already?" Hades asked, "That place had been under construction since forever."

"Overseer, I assure you that 'forever' is not the case," Khalkyd responded sternly.

"Rena..." Tycon gently lifted up her chin, "Why... Olea Garden?"

"It's... the only place I can affo-ho-hOoOOord," She sobbed.

Hades and Khalkyd simultaneously turned their backs... and they began conversing in hushed tones about a different, equally mundane topic.

Useless fools.

Tycon shot them a glare before returning his attention to his tearful companion.

"Dry your tears, Rena," He whispered softly. "Soon, you'll literally be ascending to a heaven. There, you can rest properly... in peace, as we say."

Rena looked up with sparkling eyes, "I... I never got to hang out with you, though. Like this. I mean-- I'll... I'll miss you so much... T-tyrael..."

Tycon tapped his young companion on the forehead, "Are you regretful of the time we spent together?"

"Well, YEAH!!" She grimaced, "I literally DIED at the end!! --before the happy ending, even!!"

"...Granted," Tycon rolled his eyes... "But besides your unfortunate demise, you lived well. You always did your best... risking your life to support the Rhodok Guild... to support Decanus Constantina and her archers... for my sake and the sake of..."

--Justus of Leopardon.

Tycon did not dare risk speaking his name. If Rena were to ask what became of him... he would find it difficult to lie to her.

Thankfully, she did not seem interested in that... or perhaps the red-headed swordsman were amongst her memories purged by the river waters.

"I... I did?" Rena pouted... "I mean... yeah, I did."

Tycon swallowed dryly... "You can go when you're ready... but until then, I will remain here with you."

He turned to again glare at his other two companions-- "for an eternity if it pleases you."

Hades wore a look of polite concern while Khalkyd stared dully into empty space.

« System, change specific class designation: Khalkydrius is an idiot. »

⟬ Understood. Khalkydrius, God-Rank Brazen Solarion Idiot. ⟭

"T... tyrael?" Rena whispered... blushing furiously.

"Yes?"

The girl giggled lightly... "I just... like saying it. Tyrael. Tyrael..."

Tycon smiled warmly at Rena's innocence. He didn't particularly identify with that name... but he would not take away her happiness more than he already had.

The left side of Rena's lips curled upward... "Tyrael... I want to... touch your thing."

...It was an odd request, but Tycon saw no harm in it. Rena's eyes were trained on it more often than not-- especially when he used it against Khalkyd.

Tycon unsheathed his Tyrion short sword... the one he looted off the corpse of her childhood friend after he murdered him.

Rena closed her eyes... and she quietly murmured a convocation of prayers in the Tyrion old language.

She began channeling her mana into the blade... enchanting it with her spiritual force.

Color began to drain from her cheeks. Her form began to wane, becoming more ghostly and ethereal.

Tycon leaned forward and softly kissed Rena on the forehead, "That will be enough."

"Ah?" She gasped, her spell interrupted, "N... no fair."

"Any more than this and the various nations may grow vigilant of me," Tycon teased.

In truth, if Rena were to continue, he feared there may not be enough of her soul remaining for Khalkyd to take back to his patron.

Tycon glanced down at his newly enchanted short sword, admiring the intricate flame-like, silver runes emblazoned onto the blade.

Oddly, the script was... not in a human script. It was in... celestial-- a language that Rena could not possibly know.

Tycon hypothesized that her unique spellcasting abilities gave her the right to such forbidden knowledge.

It was... an intimate prayer, containing all the general things he could expect: health, safety, and luck.

But most interestingly, in its entirety, it was a plea for mercy on Tycon's black-sinned soul.

⟬ Mercy. Fourth-Circle Magical Short Sword. Deals severe holy damage to targets. Creatures originating from Lawful and Good-aligned planes are immune to this effect. Soul bind possible. Soul bind?  Y/N? ⟭

",