Beauteous Voice

Tycondrius exchanged a look of confusion with Siren Virgilia. From their idle conversation earlier, he had figured no one was surprised-- or even upset that the Manticore was killed. She was known for having a very reckless personality.

Stephanos, the Fierce Knight, placed a thick palm over his eyes... openly weeping, "Every Tuesday night... was SINGING night.... I will forever miss the Manticore's BEAUTEOUS VOICE!!!"

Singing night? That sounded quite pleasant. He knew Virgilia's class was Siren. Did she...?

Tycon glanced over to Virgilia. Her face had paled and she wore a look of sheer disgust.

No, she did not attend Tuesday singing nights. And no, it was not pleasant.

"Thrumondi... Noblest of noble dwarves... Manti-CORA... Manticor-iest of Manticores..." Stephanos sobbed.

"And I... Stephanos... the--"

"The Fierce Knight," Tycon offered.

"THE FIIIIIERCE KNIIIIGHT!!!" Stephanos continued, "The three of us together... We were the masters of SONG... BARDS of... of LEGEND, whose voices could make ANGELS WEEP!!!"

Tycon could picture it perfectly: angels weeping, gnashing their teeth, and openly denying the existence of the gods they served.

Ugly tears streamed down Stephanos' face, dripping to the cavern floor in oily plops, "We would always sing... songs dedicated to Glory... to the HONOR of our CLANS..."

"Can we not do this right now?" Tycon asked, "I really have to get going."

"NO!!" Stephanos clenched a fist.

Tycon frowned, "...No?"

"The humans... Will. PAY. For this TREACHERY," Stephanos declared.

"I really don't think that is the correct word to use in this particular--"

Stephanos bowed his massive head, to which Tycon had to sway his seated upper body back in order to avoid being struck.

"I, Stephanos, the FIERCE KNIGHT, will fight alongside you once more, Ivory Prince... no... BROTHERRRRRRRRR!!!"

Tycon really didn't want a brother like this... but...

"...Thank you. I uh... accept your allegiance."

"GIVE ME A HUG!!!!" Stephanos yelled in Tycon's face. Snot dripped from the bull-centaur's messy metal snout and onto Tycon's lap. 

"No." Tycon crossed his arms, "Absolutely not."

"COME ONNNNN!!! COWARDDDD!!!"

...With a sigh, Tycon stood. He approached the kneeling metal bull-centaur and hugged the front of Stephanos' abdomen. He patted his side, "Don't cry, brother Stephanos."

"--the... the Fierce Knight... Uhuhuhuuuu~"

Tycon felt Stephanos' disgusting, viscous tears dropping onto his head as the gorgon returned the embrace. The bull was surprisingly gentle and the hug solidified their brotherhood... but the situation still made him slightly uncomfortable...

"...We'll uh... we'll make some ice cream. Would you like some ice cream?"

"Uhuhhhhuuuuu..." Stephanos sniveled, "Yeahhhhhh..."

...

The meetings with the various races only took a few bells. Declarations of loyalty in battle were received, promises were made. There was still plenty of sunlight left, so Tycon wished to hurry... but still, he felt obligated to see his adopted daughter, Sasarame, before he departed.

Her room was dark, lit by a candle tucked away in a corner, with the Dwarven oil lamp on her wooden desk only mere decoration. The sad, dim flame provided the only light she needed to see.

"Sasha... I brought you gifts."

The dark elf sat at her desk in her white, hooded robe, scrawling letters of the Common alphabet onto parchment with a feather quill pen.

⟬ Sasarame, Bronze-Rank Snake Oracle. ⟭

Sasha was a very unique individual. She had a class and she had picked up the Common tongue surprisingly well, considering her age and species. Isidor was decades old and still had issues with it.

Unlike Isidor, Sasha was also skillful at body manipulation, wearing the form of a lithe dark elf female with the approximate physical age of a teenage human. Her white hair was similar in color to her natural form's silvery scales-- but appeared brighter, due to her elf form's chocolate-brown skin.

Sasha said nothing, more preoccupied with inking her work than greeting him.

Tycon was being ignored. Was... she upset? He couldn't think of anything he'd done to upset her-- except the fact that she was left alone for a few moons with Isidor.

... Thinking on it, that was a perfectly acceptable reason to explain her sulking.

Tycon raised the small covered bowl in his hands, the movement catching Sasha's predatory senses, "I brought you some ice cream. It's flavored with wild berries."

Sasha's hand stopped, placing her quill gently back into its inkpot. Slowly, she pushed the wooden chair away from her desk and turned, tilting her gaze up at Tycon.

Tycon pursed his lips and offered his tribute forward. She snatched the stone bowl and the wooden spoon away from his grasp... then placed them politely on her desk.

"The Ivory Prince returns..." She mumbled.

"...I apologize," He started open-ended, in the case there were multiple things he had to apologize for.

The chocolate elf continued to ignore him, uncovering the bowl and taking a small spoonful of the cold dessert... "It's sweet."

Yes. That was the goal. Sasarame enjoyed sweet things.

"Sasha does not forgive..." She whispered.

Still, she continued to eat.

...Tycon still felt like he had the advantage in the encounter, but he allowed his young companion her verbal victory.

"I will be leaving again... for a shorter period of time," Tycon stated. It was not a negotiation. "The humans must be dealt with."

The dark elf paused her gluttony, turning her small mouth into as large of a frown as she could muster. She turned in the wooden chair, staring up expectantly.

Tycon's mouth twitched, "I expect Brother-Isidor and the others have provided you with proper learning materials. When I return, I will review your comprehensive knowledge."

He had tasked Isidor with instructing his daughter in language, basic maths, and common learning. If Isidor had failed him, the Titan Snake would suffer severe physical consequences.

Sasha bowed her head, "She will await... the Ivory Prince's return..."

That was probably the best he was going to get... still, Tycon felt it appropriate to request one more thing.

"I would like a hug."

The young lady pursed her lips, "She does not see why."

A dull pain ached in Tycon's heart at the rejection, but he did not relent, "It's... a human affectation. It's part of your learning... to fit in with human culture."

"Oh," Sasha stood up.

Tycon reached his arms forward and embraced the girl to his chest.

After a moment, Sasha began to shove him away, "Master smells of blood... She hungers."

"Right," Tycon chuckled. He ran his fingers through Sasha's white hair, allowing a naturally occurring clump to stick upright like a flower reaching for the sky.

Tycon reached into a side pouch on his belt and revealed his second gift-- the trump card he was saving that would win back his daughter's heart.