The Storm King

There was a certain terror that caused Elise’s heart to always beat a little bit faster whenever Leon was gone from her side. She knew his predilection for getting into trouble, and while she loved him for it, it was also incredibly stressful, especially since she and her sisters-in-law hadn’t yet been able to give him an heir. That stress she felt was magnified whenever she knew he was doing something dangerous. She dreaded the day when she saw him brought back in pieces, never to speak her name or hold her in his arms again.

While she tended to find something to occupy her time whenever he was gone, with the Artor Valley under siege, she found such distractions to be less than adequate at capturing her attention. There were only so many times she could pour over plans for planting fields, check and recheck her plans to test growing certain herbs, and study how the Thunderbird Clan of old overcame their fertility issues. Her inability to distract herself was only magnified by the knowledge that she was the only one of Leon’s wives who was useless with a weapon. She hadn’t the predilection for fighting, and while she joined in Leon’s daily training and learned how to defend herself, she simply wasn’t a fighter, and couldn’t contribute much in such dire circumstances as they now faced.

So, she remained at home, desperately looking for something to distract her from how useless she felt, something to captivate her thoughts until her husband and sisters-in-law returned.

Everything she tried failed to properly distract her. The fighting Leon was taking part in was so close to home that she could not only sense much of the frantic magic being used, she could also see the flashes of silver-blue lightning that signified Leon’s activity.

At some point, she simply stopped trying to distract herself and sat down in the pavilion by the villa, dismissing all of her guards and handmaidens so that she could project her magic senses and try and watch what was happening.

Her horror was magnified when she saw that Leon was fighting a man who seemed to not only match her husband in power but exceed him. She watched deadly exchanges of ice and lightning, and saw Leon resorting to using black fire. His opponent was chased off, but she had to stifle a scream as Leon drifted through the air, eventually fall into Valeria and Maia’s arms, and finally lost consciousness on Anzu’s back.

Her breathing intensified as the group sped back into the misty veil, vanishing from her senses for the time being.

She didn’t remain idle, despite her horror and dread. Barely a few seconds after her husband entered the misty veil, she started calling her handmaidens and guards. She gave rapid orders for the villa to be prepared for Leon’s return, summoning healers and Clear Day.

‘Not today,’ she thought with immense determination. ‘I won’t lose you today…’

Pain threatened to become Terris’ whole world in the aftermath of his duel with Leon. That black fire had scorched his face, the protective enchantments of the armor he wore seemingly giving way to the Doomfire called forth from the paradoxical monster he’d fought. Almost as concerning, the monster’s weapon stood against his Ebon Glacier, which could destroy most lesser weapons on contact. So not only did the monster somehow command Doomfire, but he also possessed a weapon that rivaled a weapon made by the Universe Fragment held by Anax Selachi.

Such power in the hands of a monster was a thing profane to all who followed Khosrow’s Law.

He kept his composure as he retreated to his palace ark. All attempts failed to keep the monster birthed from the blackest pits from retreating beyond the Stormwall, but as the pain only increased with time, Terris put that out of his mind.

Once within his palace ark, he ordered everyone away, demanding privacy. The pain was excruciating, but as he removed his helmet and laid his eyes upon the damage done to his face, it wasn’t the pain that tortured his mind.

Old memories returned to him as he took in the blackened flesh and blood-filled cracks in his hardened skin. His left eye was bloodshot while his right, so much closer to the burns, had almost its entire sclera turn red. He could still see, but the magic he instinctively channeled to speed up his healing was repulsed by the blackened flesh.

Such injuries he’d seen before, when he was a much younger man. Dragon fire. The Doomfire of the Great Black Dragon.

He closed his eyes as the screaming of thousands rang in his ears, as the stench of burning men filled his nostrils, and the pain of losing his brothers-in-arms was felt more acutely than it had in thousands of years. Despite the pain in his face and in his mind, he didn’t let out even a single moan. Instead, his heart beat with furious purpose. He knew what he had to do to properly heal. He knew what would happen to him if he hesitated and let the Doom fester.

But more than all of that, he knew what might happen if he failed in his current endeavor. This was no longer a minor matter, a small punitive expedition to enforce the borders decreed by the Ocean King. He had to achieve victory no matter what, his pride be damned. Ɍã𐌽ò𐌱Ёꞩ

Calmly, he summoned those few he could trust with this, and then sat down to wait for their arrival, dread settling into his heart for what he was about to endure…

---

In Strategos Sarjell’s experience, Despot Terris was the perfect Lord to serve. He was competent, powerful, and best of all, content to delegate responsibility. He didn’t meddle in his Strategoi’s affairs, leaving them to fulfill their obligations according to Khosrow’s Law without too much oversight. He was calm and collected even at the worst of times, and confident in all his actions.

This made the pained, almost frantic message he’d received from the Despot summoning him to his private quarters quite concerning, especially since he knew the Despot had made a move against the heretics who’d thought to encroach upon Diluvian territory. Something had happened out there, and Sarjell could only curse himself for not watching it that intently, preoccupied as he’d been with commanding the fleet in Terris’ absence.

When he was shown into Terris’ quarters, he found them almost completely deserted. The usual servants and guards in the more public apartments weren’t present, leaving the space feeling empty and cold.

While some muted dread settled into the pit of his stomach, Terris’ voice resounded through his mind. [We’ll discuss matters in the back. Don’t keep me waiting.]

Sarjell took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was sure to be an intense meeting, and followed Terris’ instructions, making for the rear apartments where Terris’ private rooms lay.

Upon arrival, he found that he wasn’t alone with the Despot, two others had been called before him. The first was a tenth-tier healer, the best in Terris’ Despotate if his reputation was accurate. The other was a fourth-tier servant of Terris’, a messenger by the signifying amulet around his neck.

Sarjell, however, barely took any of this in, captivated as he was by what was happening with Terris. The Despot was sitting in an opulent armchair made of coral and turtle shell with his arms crossed, the healer working on his face. Blackened flesh had been peeled back, revealing the muscle and bone beneath. Nearly half of Terris’ face had been flensed already, and there was burned skin that the healer hadn’t yet gotten to.

[Sit,] Terris magically commanded since most of his lips had been removed.

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He unfolded one of his arms to indicate a nearby chair, only for the healer to squeeze the Despot’s shoulder and sternly say, “Stop. Moving.”

Terris rolled his eyes but duly froze in place, not chiding the healer at all for his apparent impertinence.

Sarjell, not averting his gaze from the exposed bone and muscle beneath Terris’ face, sat in the offered chair. “What… is this?” he asked.

[I was hit by dragon fire,] Terris explained. [Or something very much like it. The Doomed flesh must be removed before I can heal. It will take some time for me to return to my full capacity. Until that time, my friend, I am empowering you to act on my behalf.]

“How long?” Sarjell smoothly asked, not questioning Terris’ decision when the reason was so obvious.

[A day. Perhaps two.]

Sarjell nodded as Terris’ eyes swiveled to his messenger.

[You,] he commanded, addressing the messenger yet also including Sarjell, [you will carry a message to my palace at Drowned Star. All the fleets held in reserve are to be called up regardless of their current tasks. They are to set out without delay.]

The messenger bowed, and upon Terris’ command, departed to Drowned Star, leaving Sarjell and the healer alone with Terris.

“All of the fleets?” he asked with some anxiety. They’d embarked upon this expedition with only a fraction of the arks that Terris had at his command, leaving the rest behind to maintain peace and stability within the Despotate. Without those fleets, monsters and brigands could be emboldened, and ambitious powers on their borders might take notice.

Without hesitation, Terris responded, [All the fleets.]

The healer finally removed the last of Terris’ blackened flesh and began applying some foul-smelling green salve to the exposed muscle.

[The situation has become complicated,] Terris stated. [All means are to be used to cleanse these newcomers from their positions. None are to escape, no quarter is to be given. Kill them all. Let none slip through your grasp to spread word of what happened here.]

“I have free reign, then?” Sarjell asked, seeking direct confirmation.

[Yes,] Terris confirmed.

Sarjell gravely nodded, and barely managed to refrain from asking why such means were needed. He could make some guesses, especially since this seemed related to how Terris had been hit by dragon fire so far away from the Great Dragon Clans, but he voiced none of those guesses.

He concerned himself only with how he was going to prosecute this war.

---

Leon was laid in bed with care, still unconscious. Clear Day and the healers immediately swarmed over him, talking amongst themselves about injuries, their possible effects, and how they might treat their King. Most of Leon’s group that had followed him in this attack watched with grave severity; they all knew how this might affect not just this war, but also their Kingdom as a whole.

So, Elise turned away from her husband though her heart almost broke doing so. “Jaguar of the West,” she imperiously commanded, drawing the attention of almost everyone in the room.

“My Queen,” the man in question responded with a bow.

“Return to your post,” she continued. “While my husband remains abed, you, as the Marshall of the realm, have responsibility for the defense of this valley.”

The Jaguar’s lips turned downward for a moment, but after a glance at Leon’s unconscious form, he bowed again and hurried from the room.

“Anastasios, Eva,” Elise continued, turning to the two former Emperors. “We’re vulnerable with my husband’s current condition. If we’re attacked now, we have fewer options to defend ourselves than we’ve ever had. I ask that you remain vigilant and ready to defend us should the time come.”

“You have nothing to fear, Elise,” Anastasios said with a grandfatherly smile. “We will deal with any threats that present themselves.”

“My grandson-in-law dealt serious damage to their leader,” Eva added. “If they attack now, their greatest asset ought to be indisposed. They’d be fools to attack without their leader.”

“There is no accounting for the actions of the foolish,” Elise stated. “Just be ready.”

Eva quietly laughed, then nodded. She and Anastasios spared Leon one last look, fear and pity just barely visible in their expressions, before following the Jaguar out of the room.

“We need room to work,” Clear Day then insisted.

Elise glared at Red, Gaius, and several others who were in the room, and ordered, “Return to your duties. I will inform you if you’re needed.”

Red clicked her tongue but said nothing as she left the room. Gaius frowned and said, “There are some matters we have to discuss, when you get the chance.” With that, he bowed and also left, the remaining onlookers following in his wake. Elise, Maia, Valeria, Cassandra, and Anzu were the only ones left in the room aside from Leon, Clear Day, and the healers.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cassandra asked once they had the room to themselves.

“Still trying to figure that out,” Clear Day replied. “I can sense some kind of odd magic in his body. It feels dark.”

The armor plates around Leon’s torso were finally removed, and Elise clearly saw the holes punched through them, and the blood that dripped from the jagged metal. She felt her heart beat in her throat as her fear and dread doubled. She looked down at her husband, noting the holes in his stomach where it looked like some horrid beast had snapped him up in its jaws.

“Is this magic preventing him from waking up?” Valeria asked, her voice steady enough, but Elise could detect some slight wavering that betrayed the silver-haired woman’s worry.

“I can’t say for certain,” Clear Day stated.

“That ice dragon tore through Leon’s armor,” Cassandra mentioned. “I’ve never seen anything do that before…”

[We are surrounded by monsters,] Maia grimly said. [We are no longer at the apex of the world.]

The healers pulled away the mail and gambeson Leon wore beneath his armor, revealing his wounds for the room to finally see.

Blood ran in thick rivers from his body, with not a drop of bright red mana to be seen. The healers quickly wiped at Leon’s body and started applying their magic, but his wounds started closing far too slowly given the power of the healers involved.

“There’s resistance,” one of them said. “The foreign magic is pushing against me.”

Another healer pulled out several spells and applied them to Leon’s bloody skin, while a third poured a vial of dark green liquid into one of Leon’s wounds. The bleeding noticeably slowed, but black veins appeared around each of the holes punched into Leon’s body.

“Apologies, everyone,” Clear Day said, his words cutting clean through Elise’s horror at seeing her husband so wounded. “I need you to leave. We need to work without distraction.”

Elise had to fight the urge to insist on staying and simply nodded. She took Maia’s arm, who seemed quite unwilling to leave, and guided her, Valeria, Cassandra, and Anzu out of the room.

The sitting room outside of the bedroom was empty, and all five ambled around, the magnitude of Leon’s injuries keeping them from immediately relaxing.

Quietly Maia said, [I can’t… sense him.]

Confusion swam in Elise’s head for a moment. “What?’ she responded.

“Isn’t that… impossible?” Cassandra asked. “I mean, at this distance?”

[It should be,] Maia said. [Our soul realms are connected. I should be able to sense his mind…] The more she spoke, the more she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Elise knew from experience that she took Leon’s adventure to Arkhnavi quite poorly; she couldn’t sense Leon then, either. She walked over and took the river nymph into her arms, holding her close. Maia shuddered in Elise’s embrace a few times but otherwise maintained her composure.

“He’ll be fine,” Valeria insisted, though the expression on her face was one of pure terror. It seemed to Elise that she was talking more to herself than to anyone else. “He’ll be fine. We have too much to do for him to d… for us to stop here…”

“We have the best healers working on him,” Elise said soothingly despite her aching heart. “He’ll spring back up soon and we can all give him a piece of our minds for making us worry like this!”

With Maia in her arms, she smiled at Anzu, Valeria, and Cassandra, projecting more confidence than she felt. ‘Get better soon, my love,’ she thought before something stood out to her.

“Where’s Iron Pride? I saw him fighting with it, did he get it back into his soul realm?”

The others exchanged guilty looks.

“It… fell,” Cassandra admitted. “I tried to go after it, but… I couldn’t even touch it…” She held up a hand, showing several lightning burns that were slowly, but visibly, healing.

“Mark where it fell,” Elise sternly said as she nodded to a map on the wall. “He’ll want it back as soon as possible.”

Cassandra nodded, but as she stood up, terrible explosions rocked the villa. Elise instinctively screamed as Maia threw her down and covered them both with a small ice dragon. Cassandra conjured a dome of light around her and Anzu while Valeria likewise sheltered herself with an ice shield.

Elise projected her magic senses, seeing with terror multiple additional explosions throughout the valley. Pushing further out, she saw many of the Ocean arks flying high above the clouds, angling their weapons to try and shoot over the mountains. Thankfully, it seemed they were firing blindly since Leon’s storm and the misty veil obscured their direct vision, but lucky shots had made it over the mountains and struck close to the villa and down in the valley.

Lances along the wall responded in kind, firing their deadly payloads at the Ocean arks. Normally, the arks were flying closer to the ground to keep them below the firing arc of their Lances, but now that they were flying so high, they were back in range. One of the larger Ocean arks was almost immediately shot down, but a couple other lucky shots on the Ocean fleet’s part saw two towers and their Lances destroyed.

The exchange of Lancefire continued, and Elise could only hide beneath Maia’s ice dragon and pray that nothing hit their home…

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