Headed by a Snake

**Clokk**

Zhevra stopped walking... shutting her eyes and groaning in frustration.

She had just heard the unmistakable sound... of her own cloven hoof.

She glanced at the back of her hands... red, like the shine of a pomegranate.

The illusion had worn off, revealing her true form. She was a tiefling... a cursed woman born with the blood of devils.

"Life is f*cking me," She cursed underneath her breath as she incanted a Spell, "⌈Silent Steps.⌋"

Pulling her hood low, she skulked back to her co-conspirator's quarters.

Quickly casting a ⌈Knock⌋ spell, she let herself in... just in time for her to dash forward and grab the wrist of Princess Imperia of House Vulkoori.

"(R... release me,)" The suicidal whore begged.

"(No, Princess,)" Zhevra glared. "(I will do no such thing.)"

As if the command sapped the last of her strength, Imperia collapsed to the deck, free from the burden of consciousness.

It became obvious why Zhevra's magical disguise had failed. The Illusion Mirror had fallen and shattered-- the Elven Princess relinquishing one of the larger shards from her bleeding hand.

Zhevra kicked it away with contempt.

Imperia was an Iron-Rank Storm Cleric... dangerous if mounted on her karkinos. Even without, she was likely the most capable Water Mage in the western half of the Eastern States.

She had climbed the ranks of her organization, through completing missions for the Adventurer's Guild, and social maneuvering while discrediting (or assassinating) her peers.

She was a proud woman... not unlike Zhevra herself.

Then... Imperia allowed herself to fall in love.

It broke her spirit... but merely that did not invalidate her achievements.

Zhevra turned up to the male elf... the man who was responsible for the Princess' safety.

"What... is the meaning of this, Bizdiil?"

The dark elf narrowed his eyes and replied in the common tongue, "(I have always had great respect for my Princess. However... any loyalty I once had was lost when she allowed herself to be defiled by a human.)"

...Typical chauvinistic speech.

Gendered stereotypes were the reason there weren't more females in Zhevra's profession. It was as if men could not accept that a dagger to the heart was just as effective regardless of the nature of their genitals.

What did it matter whether or not Imperia f*cked a human? She was a Warrior Princess... an elite in her social circle by both blood and murderous expertise.

"Stupid girl," Zhevra rolled her eyes as she tilted Imperia's head up and poured a healing potion down her throat. "You will return this favor... at triple the coin."

The elf began to cough... so Zhevra held her jaw shut.

Potions were expensive... and she wasn't going to use a second one.

The healing process began, the Princess' wounds beginning to close, one by one.

Of course, the deep scars on the girl's naked chest would remain.

From what Bizdiil had said... they were put there by the woman's mother-- the Vulkoori High Priestess.

That woman... was a psychopathic b*tch, to be able to sacrifice her own daughter to achieve her goals.

...And judging by the fact that she put so much faith in Bizdiil... Imperia had drastically fallen out of House Vulkoori's favor.

Zhevra turned to scowl at the dark elf, "(You. Sweep up this mess.)"

"(Or you'll do what, Goat?)" He glared.

"(I will do nothing,)" Zhevra rolled her eyes, "(but if broken enchanted mirror is found... you invite questions with unwanted answers.)"

"Tch," Bizdiil scoffed before twisting his fingers. "⌈Blessing of Wind.⌋"

The bits and pieces on the floor began to whirl... neatly gathering in a square of leather cloth the elf opened.

"(So affected by my poison and the High Princess' enchantments, Imperia fully believes it was by her own will that she fired upon the Neptune's Revenge,)" Bizdiil explained with an arrogant smirk. "(Stars and stones... she even believes she was unfaithful to her gods-forsaken human. Her fevered mind, it seems... has depicted the cruelest scenarios.)"

"(It is wasteful,)" Zhevra scoffed. "(You have-- what? Two Iron-Rank adventurers? And one... you have broken!)"

"(The Princess is unnecessary to our plans,)" The dark elf grunted. "(My troops have always been loyal to me-- not her.)"

Zhevra picked the Princess up and carried her to her bed. Her body was scalding hot... her every breath, a struggle to live.

"(When is last time? She sleeped?)"

"(You mean slept, you unlearned whore?)" Bizdiil sneered. "(Not since we left port. She'll be out for bells... or did you think I was a fool for speaking so openly?)"

Zhevra grit her teeth in annoyance. It was typical of a haughty noble to treat her with contempt because of... grammar.

Imperia was sick... poisoned by her most loyal servant-- as if she didn't realize he was a conniving impotent.

And with the same deadly toxin applied to the tip of her crossbow quarrel, she was manipulated into firing across the waters, at her allies.

With the various scroll enchantments Zhevra placed on the Princess' personal weapon... it was impossible for her to miss.

It was unfortunate that the bolt did not strike Baron Tycondrius... or even the Ship Captain, Krysaos. Still, the death of the mermaid girl of the Neptune's Revenge was worth several weeks of wages...

As for the Elven Princess suffering from poisoned guilt... the fish-woman's death was Zhevra's sin to bear, not hers.

The only crime Imperia had committed... wasn't a crime at all.

...To fall in love with a man, regardless of his bloodline, regardless of her duty-- that was beautiful.

It was... beyond infuriating to see another woman punished for something so f*cking asinine.

As Bizdiil implied... Imperia would be useless for the coming conflict.

However, she wouldn't be useless forever.

After the mission, she would be discarded by the wayside.

The trash of a royal family... made for a perfect vengeful assassin.

Anyroad... Zhevra always wanted a sister.

"(And what of your mission, Nemayan?)" Bizdiil scowled, "(The King from Across the Seas still lives and breathes.")

"(I work for The Wizard,)" Zhevra spread out a blanket to cover her sister-to-be. "(He has... different priorities.)"

"Ugh," Bizdiil groaned as he shook his head, "(Another human. Pathetic.)"

"F*ck you, whore." Zhevra gestured rudely with her middle finger, "(I do not judge with... a cold heart, like you, elf.)"

"(Dis...tasteful... wretch,)" The dark elf paced around the room, "(The King from Across the Seas must be eliminated... else all will be naught but ash and fire.)"

Zhevra knew better... but there was no convincing such a callous man, so set in his ways.

The gods played their games... the mortals as their pawns.

No matter who won... the men and women of the Realm would suffer.

"(The murder of your king is your problem, not mine,)" Zhevra responded with disdain, "(My brother and I will handle the others... of fallen guild, Sol Invictus.)"