Headed by a Snake

Chapter 570 Reason To Fight

?No matter what happened, Ariadne loved Bannok with all her heart. She'd do anything to get him back... even cooperate with a snake.

"I think it's a good idea..."

"Say wha?" Her fool husband furrowed his brows.

"You heard me, hon!" Ariadne glared, "You've been in a rut, there's no denyin' that... An' if the Tactician's got a way ta put you back on the saddle, I think he's worth a talkin' to."

"Of all the--" Bannok turned away, as he started to curse up a storm in the old language.

"Caeruleum," Tycon declared.

"Those scum-sucking bastards that assigned us that Flame-taken quest in the first place..." Bannok spat, "What about 'em?"

"I'm going to burn the city down," The Tactician turned away... and just like that, he walked out of the door.

Pale looked confused... as if he wasn't sure whether to follow his leader or not.

"Um... Sir?" He asked.

"Whaddya want, kid?" Bannok grimaced.

"I think Boss means to say... you should come with us... to Caeruleum."

Bannok grew quiet in contemplation.

The snake was right. Her husband was lost. He wanted revenge... but he didn't pursue it. Fighting against an entire Tyrion city to get it was just too much of an undertaking-- even if Ariadne fought at his side.

The Tactician didn't give a rat's arse about any of that. From the way he looked, he'd fight against the city all by himself, if he had to.

The boy cleared his throat, "Sir Tycon said... we have two reasons to fight. We fight to protect the people we want to protect."

Bannok took a deep breath in and sighed... "Yeah? Well, I don't got a lot of people I care to protect anymore."

Ariadne leaned down to face the short blonde boy, "An' what'd he say the other reason was, bub?"

Pale nodded bashfully... "To honor the memories of those that came before us."

...

"Lone! Edge!" Tycondrius shouted as he approached his traveling companions.

Lone dropped down from a tree branch where he was doing pull-ups. He'd accrued a healthy sweat on his brow, "Oh, here he comes Boss, now."

"Boss, what's the word?" Edge was balancing himself atop a fence, his arms stretched horizontally to either side. His spiky golden hair bobbed in the breeze.

"Tie two of our horses to that post, over there," Tycon directed. "Leave a bag of feed, as well."

"We got feed, Tactician," Ariadne's voice called from behind. "Horses, too. We don't need your charity."

Tycon felt his eye twitch. The conversation was over. Why did the dark elf chase after him?

"Edge, Lone... Grant us a moment, if you would."

"Got it, Boss." "Aye, Boss."

After they walked a distance away, Tycon inclined his head, "Thank you for your assistance, Lady Priestess."

"I ain't doin' this for you, Snake," Ariadne scoffed. "I'm doin' this for mah husband."

The woman still had blood smeared on her nose, having suffered a mental shock from Pale releasing his Gold-Rank mana in full. Even after that, she marched out of her house-- probably leaving her husband to dwell on his thoughts. Tycon couldn't believe the lengths this woman had taken in order to get the last word.

"I feel a lot of misplaced anger here, Ariadne," He frowned. "The choice to accompany me belongs to both you and Brother-Bannok... But as you implied, your husband needs this chance."

"Just this last job," Ariadne swiped her hand to the side, "Just this, an' no more. I never want you botherin' us again, Snake."

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "I don't think you understand."

"Yeah? About what?"

Tycon pursed his lips, "I don't need you... nor do I need him."

Ariadne's eyes shot wide open-- in shock, in realization... in horror and shame. Her face kept twisting, as if she didn't know how to feel.

"I don't even care that you're Gold-Rank," Tycon continued. "This is Bannok's chance for vengeance-- and as a man I once respected, he deserves at least the offer. And just now... I've communicated my *gratitude* to you in good faith.

"What is your goal, coming out here?" Tycon raised his arms, incredulous, "What do you have to gain from antagonizing me?"

The woman's eyes dropped to the ground. In that moment, she was no longer a proud dark elf... nor a powerful Gold-Rank adventurer. She was a sapling being guilted by the scolding of a rational adult.

"I'm... I'm sorry," She muttered, "I just--"

"We're in a hurry," Tycon shook his head, "Take care of my horses, Aria."

...

? The Caeruleum countryside. Six suns later, present time. ?

"I am the heir of ash and fire," Alea whispered to herself. "I am chosen by the Flame to enact her will... and enact her will, I shall."

She turned, whipping the end of her braided red ponytail, "What say you, Son of Qotal?"

One of her faithful, a hooded Scout, had emerged from the brush. He approached warily, but rendered a strong salute.

"Scarmother Alea, we've identified several cookfires-- and from their locations, we think we know where the invaders' main camp is."

Alea pointed at a path into the hills, drawing a line upwards, "My intuition tells me that it's that way. Does that match your reports?"

The man took down his hood, rubbing at his fluffy dark hair, "It does, Scarmother. By chance... did someone come by, before me?"

"I know these things," Alea smirked, "I hear the dragon's voice a bit more clearly than most-- or did you think I was babbling religious nonsense?"

"Well, uh... no, Scarmother," The Scout inclined his head. "I meant no disrespect."

"You must be new," Alea chuckled. "Your name?"

"Yes, Scarmother," He admitted. "My name is Iaison... and It's my first week since... the dreams, I guess."

"Immunes Jason, then?" Alea smiled, "We, the Sons and Daughters of Qotal are gifted. You can agree on at least that much, yes?"

"Y-yes, Scarmother. It's just..." Scout Jason hesitated, "It still doesn't feel real... having so much power."

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