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779: Not Human

Author: CouchSurfingDragon Word Count: 6793 Updated: 2025-03-24 07:06:04

Not Human

⟬ The following morning. ⟭ 

"His name is Ishmael," Tycondrius smiled. 

Elle pouted her lips cutely, "That's... that's not an answer?"

According to the innkeeper, Coraline had not returned, the previous night. Elle was concerned. Tycon was not. 

Ishmael was half-step Gold-Rank and thus was more than capable at keeping the elf safe from harm. 

If there was an enemy in Whitehearth that could overpower him... then their group as a whole had more pressing problems. 

Granted... in order for Tycon to appease his lovely girlfriend, they set out to search for the young Arcanist, first thing in the morning. 

--first thing after breakfast, anyroad.

"Worry not, my love." He waved his hand, "I have great faith in both Ishmael's abilities and Miss Coraline's resourcefulness."

"O... kay," Elle bit her upper lip. "Tell me who... Mister Ishmael is, then?"

"He is a trusted friend... and a reliable guardian, well-seasoned by dozens of violent circumstances."

Elle narrowed her eyes... "That's incredibly vague and slightly disconcerting."

"How do I explain, then..." Tycon scratched his cheek... "Ishmael is my... literal shadow?"

"While somehow less vague," Elle frowned... "that's even *more* disconcerting."

Tycon shrugged with a sigh, "I'll... introduce you to him soon enough," 

"You're absolutely criminal, Tychon," Elle exhaled. "Don't you get tired of being mysterious all the time?"

Tycon smiled with chagrin, "I *really* am trying my best to answer your questions, dear..."

"Yeah..." Elle sighed deeply... "Sorry. I can tell... but..."

"Yes?"

Elle pursed her lips... "Hey... were you really going to kill that guy the other sun?" 

Tycon looked up to meet Elle's suspicious gaze, "You'll have to be more specific, dear."

"That... that Porter person!" She exclaimed. "I mean-- he was kinda seedy... but are you really going to try to bully any guy that tries to get close to me?"

The two continued walking for several moments in silence. 

...Tycon had to hazard a guess as to the 'correct' answer. 

"No?" 

"Tychon."

"M... maybe?" 

"Well, thank you for being honest," Elle scoffed. "But don't do that anymore."

"Not while you're watching," Tycon nodded. "I understand."

"TY-chon!!!" 

"What?"

"I'd rather you *not* get arrested in a foreign nation on account of your jealousy, Tychon," Elle chided. "I mean, what would Lady Ophelia say?"

Tycon looked up in thought. He was confident that he knew the Arcanite Princess' personality well enough... 

"I'd imagine she'd say something similar to... 'halt, in the name of House Moonwell! You're being arrested on so many counts of murder.'"

"Tychon!"

As proficient as the answer was, Elle still found it unacceptable. 

--which was a shame. 

"Fine! Fine," Tycon waved dismissively," then I'll relegate my dismantling of your potential suitors with words or otherwise socially acceptable means."

"Hahhh! You're terrible~" Elle shook her head, "But I'm happy as long as you get it."

Thankfully, her smile had never faded. Tycon would not kept so calm if his lover were to actually grow upset. 

Haelvia of Leopardon was excellent company. 

Still... her advice was sound. 

Murder was best kept discrete. 

"I'm worried about Coraline," Elle sighed... "She's still pretty upset about her boyfriend, y'know?"

Tycon chuckled. "I would like to point out that you didn't seem to be so worried, last night."

"That's because of your over-tuned sex drive," Elle squinted her eyes. 

"Such activities were consensual and enjoyed by both parties," Tycon shrugged. "You're lovely, by the way."

"--and you turned into a literal snake," Elle fake-scowled, "You barely fit in our inn room!"

"Something you specifically requested to see."

"And thank you for the compliment-- and for trusting me," Elle leaned down to peck Tycon on the cheek. "You know a normal human would have probably freaked out, right?"

"Ah, about that," Tycon pursed his lips, glancing up. "Do you really believe that applies to you?"

"Tch-what?" Elle snorted with a particularly nasal quality-- "Normal?"

"No..." Tycon frowned. "Human."

"WhuhhHHhh??" Elle tilted her head, "Am... I not?" 

"Would you be surprised if I said you weren't?"

"Huh... I guess I wouldn't. What... am I supposed to be?"

"Titanblood," Tycon explained casually... "Bloodline of giants-- possibly old-world Cyclops. The latter could explain your ability to speak to things that don't normally... do that."

"That makes sense... but it... doesn't? Mom and Dad were both human--" Elle furrowed her brows..." unless you're saying that-- that Mom..."

Tycon waved his hand, "Not necessarily, so don't make that face. Bloodlines can lay dormant for several generations. Trust that human-giant births often result in the death of the mother."

"Oh. Okay," Elle nodded. "Mom died when I was young... but I still remember her. Wait-- is the only reason you like me because--"

"Don't," Tycon groaned. "I hold strong romantic feelings for you because you're you. Your mental abilities and attractive physical appearance are bonuses."1

"Yeah, uh huh?" Elle snickered. "Try again. Fewer words."

"I love you?"

"I love you too, babe," Elle smiled. 

It seemed that no matter how many times Tycon saw it, it made his heart skip a beat. 

"At last," Elle pulled him close with her right arm, "thy training is complete!"

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "I don't suppose you've been utilizing a high level Mind-Control spell this whole time, have you?" 

"Huh?" Elle's face scrunched up in confusion, "You mean like... a magic?"

"Nevermind."

Tycon held the library door open for his lover, following her in. After a polite (if quiet) conversation with the librarian, they were directed to one of the private rooms in the wooden building's rear. 

"Good morning, you two," He smiled as he shut the heavy door.

"Tychon..." Elle hid behind him, hand on his shoulder, "is that... Ishmael?" 

"Yes. I... do believe that earlier, I described him as  'literally my shadow.'"

The room had two occupants. Seated at a desk behind a stack of books was a small blonde elf wearing a tired smile. Reclining on a tipped chair was a black outline of a handsome person reading a book. 

"Oh, is it morning, already?" Coraline blinked. 

"Ohhhh, poor baby~!" Elle rushed over to her side and snatched up the small elf in her embrace. "You didn't sleep?!"

"More like I forgot. Ehe..." Coraline hugged back... "Oy. Is... is that your sword or are you just happy to see me?"

**Pok**

Ishmael's book fell out of his hands. 

...It was uncharacteristically clumsy of him.

pqdm.com

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