Headed by a Snake

Those words... Tycondrius understood them.

The spoken words were in Celestial... a very old dialect of a language thrice-Ancient.

That voice... was strangely familiar, as well.

A... very particular feeling seeped trickled into Tycon's heart.

He identified it as... annoyance-- annoyance bordering on hostility.

His first logical assumption was to owe his recognition to his bloodline memories.

However... that was implausible.

Medusae and Maedar might have been long antecedents to modern humans... but the bloodline was not near old enough to know an angel's true name.

Tycon turned to face the interloper while keeping Rena at his back.

A tall, humanoid male hovered just above the river waters.

His face: arrogant.

His skin: cast from burnished steel.

His pronounced cheekbones and deeply set, cleft chin-- they made the vacuous expression in his eyes more apparent.

His clothing... was at least presentable.

The angel wore a literally-glowing white military coat and trousers. Thin scrolls were pinned to the cloth, minuscule script detailing this or that achievement over the centuries.

Tycon respected the fellow's achievements... though he had already chosen to dislike the individual they belonged to.

Tycon felt Rena gripping his hand.

"D-don't worry, Zehr," She whispered. "I still like you the most."

...Tycon felt his eye twitch.

The fact that the girl felt obligated to reassure him only served to worsen his mood.

...He was much more handsome than that empty-brained lunk.

"You're more handsome than he is-- for sure," Rena added.

Tycon took in a deep, calming breath... "Why are you here, Khal?"

The divine creature swept a lock of his dark, curly hair out of his eyes before he crossed his thick, muscled arms.

❬❰ Do not call me that. ❱❭

Behind Tycon, Rena hid herself behind his back.

He could tell that her knees were shaking in fear.

An angel-- a servant of heaven was staring down at the two of them.

Stern.

Judgmental.

Authoritative.

Brimming with enough magical power to spirit bomb a crater the size of a large city.

Yet... Tycon didn't feel intimidated.

The fact that Khal was scaring his young companion only served to annoy him further.

Still... being insistent on a particular form of address was reasonable.

Tycon forced a neutral smile, "Why are you here... Khalkydrius?"

⟬ Khalkydrius, God-Rank Brazen Solarion Redeemer. ⟭

The angel continued to float on. The bastard had so much mana that he could probably sustain his flight indefinitely.

...Tycon briefly entertained the idea of climbing on his back and putting reins and a bit in his mouth. He could ride atop him throughout hell, reminiscent to a sea elf on a domesticated shark or karkinos.

Khalkyd gestured towards the two of them with an open palm.

❬❰ I'm here for business, Tyrael... to claim the young woman behind you on behalf of the Eternal Flame. ❱❭

Ugh.

Of course.

​ Tycon waved dismissively, "Oh, soddddd offffff~"

Khalkyd stared blankly for several moments... before tilting his head upward.

❬❰ Elucidate me to your meaning. ❱❭

"I mean to say..." Tycon growled, "--your services here are not required."

Rena tugged on his hand, "Are... are you an angel, too, Zehr?"

"What? No," Tycon furrowed his brows. "How in the seven hells did you come to that conclusion?"

❬❰ Your companion, Tyrael, is no more an angel than I. ❱❭

Khalkyd tried to offer something meaningful. He failed to do so.

"Well... I dunno?" Rena shrugged, "You kinda... have the same aura as him? I guess?"

"As him?" Tycon pointed at stupidest angel in the eleven heavens, "Do notttt compare me to this... this *thing.*"

Khalkyd was equally unamused.

❬❰ You are entitled to your opinion, human. However, it is wrong. ❱❭

Rena leaned forward to whisper, "If you guys are related..."

"Mind your tongue, young lady."  ❬❰ Please refrain from thy arbitrary assumptions, human. ❱❭

Both Tycon and Khalkyd responded simultaneously.

Rena placed an arm on her hip while pouting.

She was not convinced.

"Oh, f*ck you, angel," Tycon spat. "And speak in the common tongue. You're being rude."

Khalkyd's eye twitched as he opened his mouth to speak, "I... am the one... being rude?"

"...Nevermind," Tycon waved. "If your lizard brain is too underdeveloped to speak with modern vernacular, you may go back to your primordial grunts and growls."

Khalkyd gnashed his metal teeth as he wrinkled his nose, "If you find my articulation lacking, then perhaps you should first seek to meet with me eye-to-eye."

Tycon narrowed his eyes, glaring hatred and contempt at the metallic, levitating piss pot.

"Khalkydrius... are you insulting my height?"

"I am referring to the fact that your current form is unable to fly," Khalkyd said-- without any particular emotion.

...The response came as a slight surprise to Tycon.

The angel's reasoning was far less acidulous than what he had originally thought.

Still, the insult was a justifiable instigation.

Thus, he decided to be offended.

Tycon brandished his Tyrion short sword and pointed it at the floating angel... while he quietly planned the process of jamming it down his throat.

Khalkyd landed a few fulms away, the force blasting waves of sand and water outward.

...which was well within throat-jamming range.

"Do not bother," He held up his hand. "I am fully aware of your capricious nature and predilection for hostility. Thus, I had prepared twenty-two forms of ⌈Counterspell⌋ before I descended."

"Counterspell?" Tycon scoffed. He shook his head in an exaggerated motion while subtly lowering his body, "You think you--"

Quickly crossing the distance, he planted a solid left hook into the Khalkyd's side. Following that, he smashed the flat of his sword underneath the angel's chin.

**CLANG**

"Eleven heav--... AUGH!!!" Khalkyd reeled back, "Are you... MAD?!"

"ZEHR!!" Rena shouted, "wHaT're you DO-INNNG??!?!"

Tycon lifted his sword to inspect for damage. Thankfully, it remained serviceable... partly due to the foresight of not using its edge.

However, from the throbbing in his left hand... it had fractured upon impact.

Ignoring the pain as best he could, Tycon again lunged forward and hooked his thumb underneath Khalkyd's collar, aiming his sword at the talkative fellow's mouth.

"No one will be taking Rena without my permission," Tycon sneered. "Not even you."