483 Concern

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "I'm not in the mood for your inane and illegal requests, Corporal Horse."

The chestnut stallion shook his head and swallowed loudly, "(Ah... I wanted to ask... how you're doing?)"

"It's been a shite week," Tycon admitted. 

"(They're just humans, Snaaaake,)" Horse snorted. "(Since when did we care so much?)"

Tycon took a deep breath... Horse needed a bath and badly. He grabbed the stallion by the jaw and stared into his right eye, "I made a mistake that led to... far too many issues. I'd imagine the same happened in Jacksonville?"

Horse whinnied nervously, shaking his head away... "(Jacksonville was... different. But there were no witnesses, o' handsome and forgiving bringer-of-apples.)"

Tycon rolled his eyes, tossing the apple core up. Horse caught it in his mouth with an audible crunch. 

"...Humans are fine," He shrugged. "My regret is that I played my faith in the wrong ones."

"(Maybe... don't trust humans, then?)" The stallion suggested, "(It seems to work out for me.)"

"Perhaps..." Tycon looked over to the other Invictus stallion. 

Jeremy was sleeping peacefully in his corner of the stable, kicking his legs. He appeared to be having a good dream. Tycon almost wanted to interrupt it... but he identified that doing so would be unnecessarily malicious. 

He was in a very poor mood. 

"Take care of the others, Horse. You've all earned a proper rest... and make sure that one doesn't sleep too long. If he kicks a wall and injures himself, I'll have Lone geld you."

"(Snake...)"

Tycon grimaced, his frustrations mounting, "What is it this time?"

"(You also need to rest.)"

"What I *need* is to take actions to alleviate the situation," Tycon growled, turning and walking to the stable exit. 

Rest? 

He didn't deserve such a luxury. 

...

Sorina gave her report to Tycon, Korr standing by her side as her faithful guard. 

The Calculator had spoken to Popoto Potata Pota, the only dual-membership Sol Invictus member. Consulting her contacts in the Courier's guild, there had been no suspicious news coming from the city of Caeruleum. 

Sorina then visited the Speaker's Guild, finding evidence to the contrary. 

The Vanzano offices in Caeruleum had been seized, having violated some rule or law that she had yet to identify. Tycon had little hope for those who worked there. If they had not been executed outright, the odds of surviving incarceration in the Holy Country were grim. 

Sorina had the foresight to order Maeve and the Guild Letalis main body not to return to Caeruleum. They could turn in their quests and bounties at the Adventurer's Guild in Silva-- anywhere *but* that particular city. 

Was she safe with the others? 

...If she died as well, it would further sour his mood. 

He'd have requisitioned another communication ritual to Guild Letalis' main body... however, the one that Sorina had commissioned cost literally thousands of silver. 

Thankfully, she did not pay a gratuity fee. Instead, she left them a half-used coupon book for Olea Garden. 

Tycon could always rely on Sorina, concerning business matters. 

All in all, Guild Letalis had taken very few casualties. Still, they had come across an issue that was very detrimental to House Vanzano... and to the territory of Ezyria where they resided. 

The Snake Cult was a dominant faction in Caeruleum, their influence obviously enough to dictate the movements of the Gold-Rank guild, the Brazen Guard. Even more daunting was that the heretics had recently attained both an artifact weapon and an artifact power source. 

How in the seven hells could Athena Vanzano gain power in such an environment? 

And what could he do about it? He had no idea which humans in Caeruleum were his enemies. He'd put the entire city to the torch if it could solve his problems... but such a simplistic solution was likely infeasible. 

A heavy knocking upon Tycon's inn room door interrupted his thoughts.

"It's open, Centurion."

Zenon Skyreaper entered the room... and threw a certain blonde footman hard to the floor. Footman Victorius was miserable and filthy, covered in soot and ash.

It was as if... he'd fled... from a... burning building. 

"Brother-Zenon, it is good to see you... and I see you've brought... Mister Victorius..." Tycon narrowed his eyes, but did not stand from his chair, "I trust there's a good explanation for this."

Zenon scowled... and landed a swift kick into Victorius' side, causing the cripple to yelp and snivel in pain, "Tell him what you told me! The same, EXACT words!!" 

...

⟬ The following morning. ⟭ 

Victorius was the only member of Guild Letalis that stayed behind at the Vanzano Estate. 

He opened the doors for Guild Stormbrand and allowed them in. 

Tycon, assisted by Radia and the other mages of guild Letalis, had set defensive formations on the gates and doors. All of it was rendered useless by Footman Victorius' lapse in judgment. 

Why did he allow the Stormbrands into the estate with not a single member of Letalis nearby? Why did he not die with a weapon in his hand-- a weapon Tycon had custom-made solely for him, at great difficulty and cost? 

Hah. Why did he think remaining in the city of Silva was wise? 

Killing Victorius would not solve any of Tycon's problems. However, it would make him feel much, much better. 

Tycon took in a deep breath, inhaling the cool, sea breeze and appreciating the grey and gold morning sky. He and Zenon stood atop a cliff overlooking Silva's white-sand beaches. 

It was a lovely place to hold an execution. 

However... 

"Brother-Zenon, I have a... concern." 

"Mhm?" The Centurion raised an eyebrow, "What's on your mind, Optio?"

"Crucifixions... they're still an occurrence in the Holy Country, yes?"