金瓶梅第2部

It was baffling to Tycondrius how Krysaos could overlook the affectations of his two closest female companions.

"So you gonna help me out, or what?" The fool grinned. "C'mon. We're friends, right?"

"Brother-Captain..." Tycon sighed, "even if you ask that of me, I... wouldn't know how to go about it... But tell me, Brother... what are your thoughts on... Princess Imperia?"

Despite her sharp tongue, the dark elf Storm Cleric was blatantly attracted to the Captain, both physically and emotionally.

Neither were honest to each other... or with themselves, for that matter.

Krysaos tilted his head to the side as he rooted around in his ear with a finger, "What about her?"

"Nevermind." Tycon narrowed his eyes... "And your thoughts on Mina?"

The weapon spirit was single-mindedly obsessed with him. Her and the Captain's souls were literally bound together by a magical contract... but it seemed they had yet to share their... feelings.

"She got fixed up good," Krysaos nodded sagely. "I left her with Bob and the others."

Tycon felt his eyebrow twitch. As he feared, his mostly-intelligent companion did not hold either woman in his heart... "Then what of the young lady you were speaking to just now?"

"That's a girl?" Krysaos furrowed his brows.

"...Yes"

"Hah! He's-- err, she's even flatter than Imperia! ...Or as lady-like as Mina," Krysaos thumbed his nose, "But... I guess I can show her the motion of the ocean, if'n ya catch my drift."

Tycon glanced over the Captain's shoulder. The white-coated elf he'd left behind had struck up conversation with Elle. However, upon Krysaos' words, she turned towards the two of them to glare intently.

She had heard.

"The keen hearing of elves is not to be underestimated," Tycon chided.

"Ya don't say?" Krysaos dipped his head. "Bah, whatever."

It came as a surprise. Tycon's gentleman-friend rarely gave up his carnal pursuits so easily. If he hadn't known better, it was because of his loyalty to Mina and Imperia-- either or both.

"LT," The man raised his head again with renewed vigor, "They make airships in this city."

Tycon pursed his lips. He was perfectly aware that he was standing in the presence of one such construction. It took nearly half the hangar.

"Yes, Brother-Captain. Yes, they do."

"Which means," Krysaos put on his wide grin, "the elves can make the Neptune's Revenge fly! You and me, pal, we'll be able to challenge the sky god!"

"Kryasos... friend... brother-in-arms..." Tycon frowned... "I must remind you that the sea god is... fundamentally different from the one you're speaking of, right now."

"Notttt IM-por-tant!" Krysaos gently shook Tycon by the shoulders, "I'm gettin' in the air, eventually. What's addin' another god to the hit list? You'll help, right?"

"One god-slaying quest at a time, please," Tycon glared. "Anyroad, I had asked that you find Seaman Stickyfingers to discern the whereabouts of Miss Mina's enchanted tiara."

"Oh, that?" Krysaos lifted his hat to scratch at his short hair, "Yeah. Was easy enough."

"And... where is he, exactly?"

"Prison."

Tycon sighed and averted his gaze to think. He didn't want to request help from Ophelia... not so soon. It would make him and his Captain look as incompetent as they often were. If that woman knew the depth of it... it would be wise of her to refuse them access to the Water Temple.

Then... Tycon realized that in him looking at the opposite end of the hangar... he spied upon a familiar, pock-marked face...

"Brother-Captain."

"Ya?" Krysaos raised an eyebrow.

"Refrain from sudden movement, if you would... but I'd like you to shift your attention to where I am facing."

Krysaos stretched his back, then rotated his torso side-to-side.

Tycon continued to stare at a ghost-pale Coral Boy... a crafty gentleman that took the moniker 'Stickyfingers.' He and a few crewmembers were skulking about behind stacks of crates and barrels... each with a burlap sap slung over a shoulder.

What appeared to be... sawed off iron bars were jutting out of at least two.

"It appears Seaman Stickyfingers is no longer incarcerated," Tycon whispered.

"Ya don't say..." Krysaos shrugged. "Try not to mind 'em. They're probably just... pickin' up a few things for the ship while they're here."

"How... did they get past the guards?"

"Oh, I dunno, man," Krysaos scratched his chin. "You know how it is. They're real uh... sneaky-like?"

...The concept really shouldn't have surprised Tycon as much as it did.

He took another long look at Stickyfingers as the gentleman waved his companions quietly through the back door.

His attention drifted to... a heavy leather coin purse strapped to the Coral Boy's waist.

Why that bothered Tycon-- he was unsure. Stickyfingers could have made the coin in a myriad of ways... fencing goods he and his companions had neglected to add to the crew spoils... gambling or coercion of his peers' stipends... outright stealing from the general populace.

But... what Tycon was doing... was trying to apply logic to the Coral Boys. He had learned in the early suns of sailing with the crew that such an endeavor would only earn him a nasty headache.

"Brother-Captain," He sighed. "Let us make preparations to challenge the Tree God's Forest. Lady Ophelia has promised to make it worth your while."

"Fair 'nough," Krysaos shrugged. "Sea or sky, then?"

"The former..." Tycon scoffed, "but I'd imagine the latter is something that can be negotiated with the Arcanite Princess."

"Now THAT'S what I like to hear, LT!" Krysaos pumped a fist victoriously, "So where do I sign up?"

Tycon raised an eyebrow, having recognized a rare opportunity...

"As a matter of fact, I have paperwork in my spatial ring that requires your signature."

He summoned a carefully prepared magical contract he'd written some evenings prior, offering the Captain a quill pen.

The trusting fool didn't even read it, signing his life away without a doubt.

It almost made Tycon feel guilty.

Almost.

"I got a good feelin' about this," Krysaos grinned.

"Indeed," Tycon chuckled to himself as he put the contract away, "I'm looking forward to your hard work."

And the effects of the contract stating that Krysaos was to fall under Tycon's command over the next few weeks for the purpose of training.

"Us against the world, pal?" Krysaos offered his hand.

Tycon bared his teeth in a grin, heartily shaking the Captain's hand. He felt his blood running hot, influenced by the gentleman's infectious arrogance, "Us against the world..."

",