The Storm King

From within his soul realm, Leon meditated, Iron Pride slowly spinning just above his hand. He’d met with Jamshid’s friends, all of whom turned out to be important and ambitious men within the city’s force of guards or bureaucracy.

It seemed like all of them were down for what he and Jamshid suggested, which struck him as a bit odd, but since it was all to his benefit, he decided to shelve any suspicions for the time being.

A few bolts of green lightning arced from the hilt of Iron Pride and into his fingers. He hardly felt a thing, nor was he that surprised as that very thing had happened several times over the few hours he’d been mulling over the problem. With his power surrounding the Iron Needle, the Iron Needle was responding, zapping him with its power every now and then. This wasn’t a hostile action, but rather something that the Thunderbird had recommended Leon do to try and grow closer to the Iron Needle. She remained convinced that the Iron Needle wasn’t sentient in the typical sense, but it had some kind of strange, alien intelligence to it anyway, and that letting it get more used to Leon’s power would be a good way to stimulate it to action.

Leon wasn’t so sure about doing so, but at least the Iron Needle was doing something, and it wasn’t harming him, so he let it do its thing. It hadn’t communicated with him at all since his black ice mace-induced coma, nor did it respond like an intelligent thing would to anything he did. He supposed maybe the Thunderbird was right, that his ‘conversation’ with the Iron Needle was something conjured by his mind trying to parse what the Iron Needle was communicating to him rather than an actual conversation with a sentient, sapient being.

The thought of using more black lightning intrigued him, but he held himself back from trying to use any more fancy lightning that the Iron Needle may show him. He felt like once he did, he’d lose himself in study, and he had much more important things to handle at the moment.

From behind him, the Thunderbird, who had remained on her perch the entire time Leon had been ‘training’ with the Iron Needle running her beak through her feathers, finally asked, “What are you doing, my boy?”

“Brooding,” Leon responded, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“It is unbecoming of you to brood so,” she stated. “You know what action you should be taking, and it isn’t sitting in your soul realm staring out at the Mists of Chaos.”

“I know what action I want to take,” Leon shot back. “It’s the action that must be taken. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to be going this far, yet.”

The Thunderbird paused in her preening and stole a glance at Xaphan, who wasn’t doing a good job of looking like he wasn’t paying attention.

“Don’t look at me,” the demon growled. “We have both been advising him to be more proactive in Nexus affairs, now he is about to be. Just give the kid some time to brood, he’s young and still concerned with foolish sentiments like ‘morality’ and ‘autonomy’. But he’s finally starting to grow out of it, I’m so damn proud!”

The Thunderbird audibly sighed, then with a flap of her wings and a quick flash of light, alighted next to Leon and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Why do you hesitate? Why are you in here instead of out there, doing what must be done?”

“For starters, my local allies needed a few hours to get into position. But more personally… Public relations, the possibility of opening up another war in the north when I can barely fight one in the south… And, I have a few prickles in the back of my head, questions about morality of conquest.”

“The city has what you need,” the Thunderbird stated. “You need no other reason than that.”

“If they’d just sell me the damn Aurichalcum, we wouldn’t have a problem. But no, Manuchehr has to side with fucking Ocean Lords against me, and try and get me kicked out hours after my arrival!”

Despite Manuchehr’s threat, midnight had come and gone, and no one came to try and force Leon out of Shatufan. The Origin Spark hadn’t yet brightened into full daytime, however, so there was still plenty of time for him to try and follow through with his threat.

The Thunderbird chuckled in amusement. “Have you become a merchant, haggling over the price of goods? Or are you a King, who commands his lessers to do his bidding?”

“I am a King mulling over the ramifications of his actions. While I will do what I must, is it not imperative that I also consider possible consequences? Immorality may just be a word, people should be treated in the way that they act. I believe that I would be received differently by others as a conqueror than as a potential trade partner. That I will be received differently once all of this plays itself out.”

Both the Thunderbird and Xaphan moved to speak, but Leon held up his hands, silently asking for silence for at least a moment longer.

“Don’t take this to mean I’m getting cold feet,” he said. “I’m not. There’re just actions that can’t be undone. And what we’re about to do… much will change by the end of the day. With my support, Jamshid is going to take this city, flagrantly trampling over its traditions. How are Shatufan’s allies going to react? How will Manuchehr react? How much responsibility am I going to have to take for this city once all the dust is settled?”

“None of that will matter if Artorion falls,” the Thunderbird pointed out.

Leon softly chuckled. “That would be a saving grace, wouldn’t it? If I fail in defending my new city, then I won’t have to deal with any of these consequences. Because I’ll be dead.”

Standing over Leon, the Thunderbird’s hand on his shoulder tightened and she glared down at him, saying in no uncertain terms, “If you must, flee. I speak often of pride, but… survival is more important. If Artorion is going to fall, then leave.”

“No,” Leon smoothly replied, not missing a beat. As soon as the word passed his lips, a thin bolt of blue lightning flashed between his fingers and Iron Pride, though he was too busy staring back at his Ancestor to notice. “I will save Artorion. And if I have to trample all over Shatufan to do it, then so be it. If I have to lay low all of the Far West, then so be it. Artorion will not fall.”

A smile slowly spread across the Thunderbird’s face, and as she relaxed and took a step back, she said, “You’re starting to sound like a King worth believing in, my boy.”

“I said the exact same thing!” Xaphan excitedly erupted. “I said the exact same fuckin’ thing!”

A playful snarl crossed the Thunderbird’s lips, but after a moment’s thought, she appeared to decide that responding to Xaphan’s outburst wasn’t worth the effort.

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“I’ll be watching, Leon,” she said. “Establishing Artorion is one thing. Defending it from attackers is another. But more than either of those, using it as a springboard into the wider universe is the greatest challenge I believe you’ll ever face. I know you’ll make me proud…”

With that said, and with no small amount of pride sprouting within Leon, the Thunderbird took flight once again as she assumed her natural form. Without another word, she returned to her perch and stayed there, preening, while Leon felt her attention remain around him.

With a quick sigh, he returned Iron Pride to the plinth where he stored it in his Mind Palace, right by his throne.

’All right,’ he thought to himself. ‘Time to get to work…’

---

There wasn’t a single post-Apotheosis mage in Shatufan aside from himself. There were plenty of security forces, and the city’s walls were thick with plenty of Lance towers, but there wasn’t a single person in the city who could stop him.

‘Especially not with Jamshid’s support,’ he noted. Barely a day had passed since his arrival, and the Azadan had moved at a blistering pace—far too quickly for it to have been a plan he’d only thrown together in the past twenty-four hours.

He put that out of his mind as he hovered over Shatufan’s government palace complex. Such minutiae of city affairs wasn’t his problem—so long as the Aurichalcum flowed down the Southcourse to Artorion, the city could do as it pleased.

While the palace below him was the lavish home of the Presiding Magus, it was owned, at least legally, by the people of the city. The main building also contained the central administrative offices and was connected to the place where the Azadan met to debate and pass legislation by a beautiful public park. It was well-warded, but… not well enough to stand against him.

That park was deserted now as rain poured down upon the complex. Leon had called a storm to herald his mood and intentions, clearing the streets of bystanders almost as quickly as any alarm would’ve done.

And then his aura crashed down upon the building, and alarms began ringing out all across the city. Only a moment later, an ice dragon appeared in the air over the primary Aurichalcum production facilities, hovering menacingly.

Leon waited a few seconds for the local defense forces to respond, and for people to come streaming out of the central palace screaming in panic. The latter happened quickly; the former left his anticipation unfulfilled.

‘Jamshid’s friends came through,’ he noted. Most of those friends were commanders in the local guard garrisons, but they didn’t quite reach an outright majority of the city’s defense forces. While it was still too early to tell, it seemed like those who were unaligned weren’t going to move or respond quickly enough to stop him and Jamshid. They moved to their assigned defensive positions, but no one stopped Jamshid’s aligned forces from surging through the city, securing key locations.

As if to spite those thoughts running through his head, several exploding arrows were loosed at Leon, showing that the city wasn’t just rolling over him; it seemed that Manuchehr’s personal guards were more willing to act without support than the unaligned garrisons. Bolts of lightning struck the arrows before they could reach Leon, and he slowly descended upon the palace, letting the people scatter in fear through the rain-soaked streets as they felt the weight of his presence.

To their credit, Manuchehr and most of the Azadan working in the city, along with the greater portion of their guards, stood their ground in the park, responding to him with steel and magic. Their resistance was for naught, however, as bolts of lightning killed many of the weaker mages, and gusts of razor wind crippled others.

“Liar!” Manuchehr screamed manically as he raised an arm and lashed out at Leon with tendrils of smoky darkness. Leon sneered in derision at this display of magic as the darkness was torn asunder by silver-blue lightning with ease. “Deceiver!” the Presiding Magus continued, not letting his assault stop despite its obvious ineffectiveness. “I should’ve thrown you out, your supporters be damned! You bastard without honor!”

“I am what I have to be,” Leon softly said, his voice carrying far despite the thunder rolling over the city. “Throw down your weapons and be spared!”

“Your promises are worthless, monster!” Manuchehr bellowed. “We are men of Shatufan! And we will never bow to a foreign tyrant, fresh from the planes! We will fight until the e—”

Manuchehr’s response was cut short as one of the Azadan behind him, clearly panicking if his wide eyes were any indication, wrapped his arms around Manuchehr’s neck and squeezed. With a subtle application of darkness magic of his own, the Azadan knocked Manuchehr out in seconds. With his incapacitation, Leon smiled and dissipated his storm. In a moment, the skies cleared up, the last raindrops fell, and were it not for the sodden city, it was almost like there had never been a storm at all.

The alarms continued blaring throughout the city, however, so when several forces of local guardsmen, each numbering in the low hundreds, emerged from nearby buildings, they were not slowed by civilian traffic. They bolted from their prepared positions into the central palace without trouble, and in only a couple of minutes, a hundred of these guardsmen fanned out into the park and surrounded Manuchehr’s group.

“Throw down your weapons,” Leon repeated. “You will all be escorted back to your homes, and you are now ordered to stay there!”

“Who orders us?” one of the Azadan immediately asked vitriolically. “What authority do you presume over this city?”

“Return to your homes,” Leon repeated with a pointed look at the commander of the newly arrived guards, his heavy aura pressing down upon him, speaking for him more than his tongue did. “Stay there.”

The city guards didn’t wait any longer and began forcibly taking the Azadan and their personal guards prisoner, disarming them and securing their hands behind their backs.

With that bit of unpleasantness handled, Leon turned his attention back to the Aurichalcum facilities, where Maia’s ice dragon continued to hover. She was but a threat, however, and the real work was being handled by Leon’s people, supported by a force of local city guards led by one of Jamshid’s compatriots.

Within ten minutes of storming the facilities, Valeria emerged from the largest, turned in his direction, and told him silently, [We’ve secured the ‘Auri’ district.]

Leon nodded in response and began floating down to the palace, noting that Jamshid and several dozen other allied Azadan were already sprinting over with all haste. For the most part, they were all sixth-tier or stronger, so Leon wasn’t forced to wait long before they arrived.

Jamshid, being the strongest of their number, was in charge of his fellow Azadan, saying as they assembled in the palace’s grand hall, “I’ll make a public address to the people, let them know that everything is all right and that business as usual will resume. Get to your offices, everyone! I’m sure many of the secretaries will be unwilling to immediately return, and we have to make sure that all official business continues with as little interruption as possible!”

The other Azadan acknowledged Jamshid and rushed elsewhere in the palace, leaving Leon and Jamshid ‘alone’ with many of the guardsmen who were busy moving about, securing the rest of the palace. Some of the bureaucrats, it seemed, hadn’t fled the structure when Leon smashed his aura against it and had to be taken into custody.

“You will not regret this, King Leon,” Jamshid promised. “Shatufan will prove herself a valuable ally in times to come. Under my leadership…” The last part was said quietly, but Leon easily heard it.

Leon remained silent for a moment as he looked at the dome over the grand hall. A beautiful mural depicted in one of its two panels the people of Shatufan overthrowing what appeared to be a monarch if the diadem about the figure’s brow was any indication. The other panel showed the people assembling to cast their votes for the first Presiding Magus.

“I hope that’s true,” Leon said. “Your people may… disagree.”

“Though you forced us to move in haste, we have not taken half-measures,” Jamshid said. “We will keep our city under control, you can count on that!”

A deep frown spread across Leon’s face. It was a swift coup, to be sure, and there was the distinct possibility that the people of Shatufan would be dissuaded from action by the fait accompli. Besides, his wives, former retainers, former members of Heaven’s Eye, and Tempest Knights were busy securing all of the Aurichalcum they could get their hands on. How much they might seize he couldn’t say, but he couldn’t help but doubt it would be enough to win his war outright. Regardless, the people of Shatufan weren’t going to be able to stop him from taking what he was after.

There would undoubtedly be instability from all of this, both from internal and external sources, and he would have to support the men he was installing in power, if for no other reason than to maintain an alliance.

But those were problems for the future. In the current moment, he supposed this could be considered a win.

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