Headed by a Snake



Pale took the sealed missive with both hands. 

He stared down at it in thought, slowly comprehending Tycon's order and all the implications it carried. 

"But... we're supposed to be the champions of this Realm," he said. 

Tycon shook his head, "As a Hero, you are champion to all Realms. And considering the circumstances of ours, your efforts would only be wasted here."

"...I don't understand," Pale said. "I... I can't..."

The young man placed his left palm over his mouth. 

It seemed he was still shocked. 

--though, it really shouldn't have been such a surprise. 

Despite Pale's appearance as a half-Elven adult, he was still a child. 

All of them-- they were all children. 

Proper children were supposed to be frolicking in fields, training to join the army, or learning elaborate dances in order to attract a mate. 

--perhaps even all three, at once. 

Tycon had never understood why the fates tended to choose young persons as Heroes. 

If children were to be relied upon to save entire Realms... then it was the adults that failed them. 

After a few more years of experience and hardships... of allies more numerous and greater in strength than they had in their old Realm... then Pale would be ready. 

The children had yet more to grow... more to learn... more strength to accrue. 

"Pale, son of Quay, I will not ask for thy forgiveness."

Tycondrius of Charm spun on his heels. 

"Once you depart from this Realm," he said... "I will take thy mantle... the mantle of Hero."

He began walking toward the exit. 

"Sasha--"

"Father, no... Please..."

Tycon halted his steps.

He did not turn to see her. If he were to bear witness to his daughter's crying face, he would yield, a thousand times over. 

  "Sasha, take Pale and the others to the Plane of Water. Find a way from there..."

He apologized in his heart for being unable to provide more direction. 

He... did not know what they would do, where they would go, other than to search for their Realm's previous Hero. 

"Use the active Spell Formation in the Pool of Reflection... and disregard my earlier time demands. Prepare as best you can. Depart before the sun falls."

Finally, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

"I know... (I cannot ask for thy pardon enough, Beautiful Child,)" he said, switching to Parseltongue. "(Will you heed this last request?)"

A child was crying-- a hatchling he had raised, personally. 

Seven hells, all his hatchlings were crying...

Yet, still, Tycon refused to turn. 

He wished to remember each of them, strong and resolute... unafraid of the future. 

--Heroes, one and all... 

"(Sasarame... is not a beautiful child,)" a tiny hiss returned, '(She is... a cursed child. The... Ivory Prince knows naught of her.)" 

Those words... he remembered well.[1]

They were spoken when they had first met. 

Even then, after so many years, he did not understand their meaning. 

However... his answer had not changed.

No child deserved to live in fear.

On his daughter's behalf, he was willing to demand obeisance from the flights of the highest heavens and the legions of the deepest hells. 

He continued to walk off, stopping briefly at the doors. 

"I will send word for you... when I return victorious."

"(Then... Sasarame... will trust thee,)" the young lady hissed. "Goodbye... Father."

...

⟬ The Pool of Reflection, three bells later... ⟭ 

[Sister!] Troia signed, [Welcome back. Be mindful of your steps.]

Sasarame stifled an annoyed groan before remembering her place. 

"Good evening, High Oracle," she said, rendering a polite bow. 

Troia's warnings were appropriate but unnecessary. No one in Hero's Hearth knew the Dungeon as well as she did-- each of its trap-filled passages, each disjointed magical room... 

She wasn't dumb enough to fall on the slippery moss in front of her inferiors. 

"The... the sun is soon to set," Gobbuto mumbled.

"Obviously," Sasha glared. 

"J-just a reminder," the big man offered, looking away. 

"He's right," Pale sighed as he got to his feet. "We should get going soon."

"Shut up," Sasha countered. "You're stupid. Your face is stupid. Every word that comes out of your mouth is stupid-- every thought in your thick skull, also stupid!"

"So," Ree hopped off of a huge glowing mushroom she was using as a chair, "What'd y'find?"

Sasha gnashed her teeth, a hundred ways crossing her mind of how she could verbally destroy her father's greatest disappointment. 

But... she realized her anger was misplaced.

As she relaxed and let out a deep sigh, she also realized just how tense she was. 

"It's no use," she said. "Father gave strict orders to the Dungeon Core before he left. All exits beside this one are sealed-- and the restrictions are hard-coded to our individual mana signatures."

"Okay, so I get that this is gonna sound really dumb," Ree began. 

"Then keep it to yourself," Sasha scowled. 

"Can we break out?" Ree asked. "We're four of the strongest people in the Realm, aren't we?"

"Three... of the strongest," Gobbuto corrected. "I am... not."

[Have confidence,] Troia reminded him. 

Sasha let out another groan, drenched in her frustrations. 

"Arrrgh... not possible, Miss Kimura. All exits are designed to forcibly shut upon failure-- not open."

"So what I'm hearing," Pale said, "is that the only thing we can do is follow Tycon's instructions?"

"Is that what you want?" Sasha snapped. 

"Well-- no, "Pale quickly backtracked. He even held up his palms in surrender like the coward he was. "This is hard for me too. I mean... we've trained so hard."

"Is that ALL?" Sasha roared, "Just-- you're sad about a waste of training? And the rest of you? You're all willing to blindly follow Father's commands?!"

Troia lifted her hand to speak, but quickly curled up her fingers. 

"Situation is... difficult," Gobbuto offered. 

"(Say what you mean,)" Sasha glared, "(whore.)"

"(Comrade Sasha,)" he said... "(Besides not being given much choice, the Commander has his reasons.)"

"And his reasons are STUPID!!" Sasha shot back. 

"(The war against the Dragon is deeper than one woman's petty emotions,)" Gobbuto replied. 

Sasha gnashed her teeth once more. 

"Oh, you did not just say that, you sexist, good-for-nothing--"

"What he say?" Ree said, bouncing up and down and raising her fists, "Can I hit him? I'm gonna hit him."

[Please don't, Sister,] Troia said, loosing an exhausted sigh. [I'm still weak. I can't fix him.] 

Sasha felt her whole body trembling with anger. 

Her father had the uncanny ability to take even a force of humans and turn them into an invincible fighting force. 

She should have been able to do the same! 

But... the people surrounding her... 

An injured Priestess. A weak-willed knight. A rock-brained boxer. And a boy with a title he didn't deserve. 

They... were all she had. 

They were all people her father had raised to the best of his ability... 

And they were all people so important to him... that he had done everything in his power to keep them safe. 

And all of them... without question... were willing to leave him to die alone. 

[1] Familar words: See Chapter 153.