Tycondrius felt his eye twitch, "Did you two... have a disagreement?"
The young lady shook her head.
Tycon pursed his lips... "You dislike him."
"Not... exactly?"
How mysterious. Tycon poked at his daughter's cheek, "What is it, then?"
"He is... a flirt."
Tycon narrowed his eyes, "He's a what?"
Instead of answering, Sasha hid her face behind a thick book.
Tycon let out a deep sigh. That his daughter was becoming more willful was not a problem he could fix. That Pale was a flirt like his father, Quay, was not surprising, but was something he'd need to watch out for.
He did find it peculiar that he hadn't noticed it... but he trusted Sasha's opinion over his own. She was exceptionally sensitive to people and their natures.
Anyroad, it was fine that she stayed away from boys.
"Well, come along, young lady," Tycon stood up and began neatly packing Sasha's school materials. "You'll accompany me to dinner, won't you?"
Sasha offered her book, which Tycon took and put into her bag.
"Is... is Pale coming?" She asked.
"Yes," Tycon rolled his eyes. "Pale will be present."
"...Th... that depends on where we are going?"
Tycon sighed... then lightly tapped his daughter on the nose, "You can choose."
...
Reasonably, Sasha could use one of her powerful Oracle abilities to search for their Ranger, the Lone Shadowdark.
She used a minor one.
She cryptically stated that Mister Lone was fighting against a great evil... therefore would not make it to dinner.
He probably could use their assistance... but Tycon considered a proper meal a greater priority.
As the two were leaving the Basilica, Pale emerged from the greenery. He'd been hiding from the High Oracle, the Archbishop, and entire teams of Church enforcers for the past several bells.
...It seemed Natalya's scryers weren't as good as she thought.
Pale politely requested to be smuggled out of the Basilica. Tycon arranged a path for the young man to follow, to do just that.
Dinner was wonderful.
Seafood was cheaper than land fare, as was to be expected for an island territory. However, as it was a meal celebrating their reunification, spending a bit of extra coin was appropriate.
Tycon ordered on the Archbishop's tab. Natalya would understand.
...
⟬ The following sun. ⟭
"G-good morning, Hero!" "Good morning!" "Notice me, Hero!"
A massive gaggle of mostly young female students stood at the entrance of the Basilica... and they greeted Pale as he and Tycon approached.
Pale waved shyly, "Um, hello."
They showered Pale with gifts: letters, small bags of sweets, and crafted trinkets among other things...
It took several minutes of the Hero taking part in awkward conversation before a group of instructors came to herd the students back to their classrooms.
"S-sorry about that, Sir," Pale bowed his head.
"In theory, I am used to such things," Tycon shook his head. "I'd imagine your father received a similar reception."
He wasn't 100% certain. Memory loss.
"Hmm..." Pale twisted his lips to the side as they walked, "Boss, do you think I'm strong enough? To find my dad, at least?"
Tycon looked up in thought. Searching for a man long dead? Gold-Rank was a minimum prerequisite for such a dangerous quest.
Pale had attained a high-tier Class... and Hero was one of the strongest known to the Realm. Admittedly, his chances were decent if he were to set out on his own.
However... what he wanted was stupid.
Tycon would have Pale assist him in taking Caeruleum, not searching for a fool who didn't deserve to be found.
Pale averted his gaze, seeming to have taken Tycon's silence as his response... "I knew it... I'm not strong enough, then."
Tycon patted his young companion's back, "You're almost there. We'll train for a moon or three, we'll run a campaign of genocide-- just one. Then from there, I'm certain you'll have gained enough power to strike off on your own."
The boy's breakthrough was recent-- within the past few moons. He needed training to solidify his power. Sasha could help with that.
"What's genocide?" Pale asked.
Tycon pursed his lips, ignoring the question... "For your personal quest, you'll probably need your own adventuring party..."
The boy's expression brightened immediately, "I can get Taree!"
Tycon rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes. You can get the whelpling."
Kimura Taree was a Martialist, only a year or two older than Pale. She'd been training with the Titanblood Swordmage Dragan in the Free Nation.
She was certain to grow strong... but Tycon hoped that Dragan's delinquent personality wouldn't influence her too negatively...
Those hopes were not high.
Pale bit his lower lip, hesitant... "Maybe... I can ask Sasha to be our healer?"
Tycon chuckled to himself, "You can try."
The young man's first two choices of party members were young women. As Tycon was aware of Pale's true nature as a 'flirt', the effects became laughably easy to identify.
The two made their way through the Basilica, quietly and nonchalantly dodging the patrols assigned to capturing Pale. Tycon's ⌈Shadowfang⌋ movement skill had proved indispensable. Also, Pale's ⌈Misty Step⌋ had improved greatly since last they met.
Upon reaching Sasha's library, she and a few students (Pale's admirers, it seemed) had pushed aside the tables and chairs, allowing the floor to be used as a ritual surface. Chalk lines and holy objects were spread about the room, forming an intricate web of twenty vertices.
Tycon hastily inspected the work. It was... functional.
He gave his daughter, Sasha, a proud smile, "You've worked hard on it, young lady."
"...Had to fix it... after the instructor left," She quietly muttered.
Pale stepped into the formation first... which surprised Tycon slightly. The young man knew exactly how to enter it and where he was meant to stand.
"Have you been studying ritual circles, Mister Pale?"
"No, Sir," Pale bared his teeth in embarrassment, "But um... Sasha's rituals are easier to read than yours."
Tycon narrowed his eyes for a brief moment... but such a thing was not something to be angry about, "Well done, Sasha."
"P... pale is stupid," She whispered.
"I... I can hear you," Pale frowned.
"Pale is stupid," She repeated.
Tycon pursed his lips. He was absolutely not going to interfere in whatever was going on.