The Storm King

From the central dome, the lead golem escorted Leon’s party to the comms building just on the other side of the gardens that encircle the dome. While they were outside, Leon noted that the sandstorm that had enshrouded a wide swathe of the northern Sundered Lands had dissipated, leaving the sky clear and the air still, with hardly a hint of a breeze blowing through the palace complex’s streets.

While Leon thought that might’ve been a cause for celebration, once they stepped outside and beheld the clear sky with their own eyes, he heard Keeper sigh.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone a little provocative. “Too bright for you? Would you rather sit on that boulder in the dark?”

Keeper spared him a withering glare. “Judgeall you wish, Leon Raime, but it will ill serve you.”

Leon restrained the urge to chuckle, though he did refrain from poking the Keeper any more. He still wanted access to the palace after leaving, after all. Cassandra, however, was a little less restrained.

“Are you allergic to the sun?” she impishly asked. “Does walking about in the light and splendor of a beautiful palace truly weigh so heavily upon you that you have to sigh when walking around? Is your heart not stirred at the beauty all around you?”

“Beauty built by slaves is not true beauty,” Keeper definitively stated. “There is beauty in the smile of a mother as she lays eyes upon a newborn child for the first time. There is beauty in the mountains as they ever reach for the heavens. There is beauty in the rivers as they wend their way through the land. There is no beauty to be had here, where bones are the foundation and blood the mortar between the stones.”

The lead golem then helpfully stated, “By Clan regulation, this complex has used neither blood nor bones as construction material.”

“It was a metaphor,” Keeper said dismissively.

Leon smiled awkwardly as the conversation cto a temporary stop. An interpretation of what the golem just said would have that there was a specific regulation prohibiting blood and bones to be used as construction material, and he didn’t want anyone asking why that might be necessary.

Leon sagely nodded. He fully supported Keeper increasing the number of guards watching the palace. He didn’t want any looters running away with stuff he wanted, after all, and he doubted Keeper or the Sentinels as a whole would care to loot this place themselves.

Once that was said, silence truly descended upon the group, and the golem kept them moving into the comms building.

As was to be expected, the building was a marvel of beauty, built of sparkling stone and lavishly decorated. However, the upper floors that the golem led them through took on a different, though still familiar aesthetic: shiny gray metal covered the slanted walls in the trapezoidal halls, with white fire gently burning in their lower corners and murals of projected light extending from the upper corner to the floor.

The tower was capped with a tall dome, and it was to this domed chamber that the golem brought them. Unlike the central dome, however, the enchantments here were still functional—upon the ceiling of the domed chamber was a projection of the night sky, though many of the stars were brighter in the chamber than they were in the actual night sky, relatively speaking.

[Ahhh,] the Thunderbird sighed. [All the domains of my descendants. Take it in, Leon; this is what might’ve been yours had Jason Keraunos not bitten off more than he could chew.]

Leon did just that, his golden eyes sweeping across the projection, taking in every detail. He estimated that about five percent of the stars had had their brightness adjusted upward, and most of those stars he knew weren’t actually singular stars but clusters of dozens of stars that merely looked like one due to the immense distance between them and Aeterna.

In all, thousands of stars were drawing attention in this way.

In the center of the room was a platform that rose to hip height, and around that was a chest-high wall with attached enchantment control consoles. The golem led them right to the chest-high wall where it activated several enchantments, causing a flickering projection of light to appear on the platform behind the wall. It took a moment given the enchantments were somewhat degraded, but the projection eventually resolved itself into a life-sized image of a man.

This man was about Leon’s height, with amber eyes, ashy gray skin, and wild tufts of black hair covering his head. He was clearly strong with a powerful build, and about his shoulders hung a cloak of feathers, scompletely silver and others gray with dense patterns of black spots.

“This message left by Lord Koukouva is ready to play,” the golem informed the group.

“Play it,” Leon immediately said.

With only the activation of a single runic circle, Koukouva’s projection began to speak in surprisingly high-pitch tones—and understandable Aeternan common, too.

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“In times of disaster, my friends, we must not forget ourselves! The beasts within must be chained and corralled! We may have lost our King and his flight, but were they the only reasons we were civilized? Let us not indulge our baser instincts and instead work to return ourselves to harmony!”

Leon was supremely interested in his Ancestor’s insight, but he found it somewhat hard to concentrate on what she said as Keeper also felt compelled to speak up.

“What depravities were inflicted upon this plane that those who enslaved, murdered, raped, and pillaged us felt compelled to speak out against the violence?”

“Making sassumptions there,” Leon pointed out. “Unless, of course, you have scontext for who Koukouva was that you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“He followed the Thunderbird Clan,” Keeper immediately replied before scowling ever so slightly and averting his gaze for a moment. He added, “Present company excluded, I have never heard of any benevolent member of your lineage.”

Leon rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe you, Keeper. Surely you looked intobefore? I can’t fathom that you don’t know the history of House Raime, at least. Of the Thunderbird Clan I don’t think you’re that far off in saying they were brutal, but House Raruled in the north for thousands of years, and by all accounts, did so honorably and justly.”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Wars must be judged in their own contexts. If they are not, then we would all hang for the sins of our Ancestors.”

Keeper softly snorted. “Morality is not so flexible in Sentinel Lands. Evil is evil, regardless of the circumstances.”

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“What a simplistic worldview you have, then,” Leon derided.

“Is not killing wrong?” Keeper asked. “The deaths of the innocent are to be condemned, no matter when or why.”

“Killing can be done righteously,” Leon argued. “Such as in defense of others. Or in defense of yourself. If I made your death a condition for peace between my Thunder Kingdom and the mainland, what would you do, Keeper?”

Keeper scowled again and didn’t answer, but Leon wasn’t going to just let that go.

“You’d try to kill me, wouldn’t you? I know that you would because you’ve tried to do so before. You believed that by killingin Occulara, you would be preserving peace and prosperity in Aeterna. By your logic, are you not evil?”

“I am what I am because I have chosen to shoulder such burdens for the people of this plane, whether they wantto or not,” Keeper declared.

“You are a King and the patriarch of a Clan,” Keeper simply stated.

[Fool,] the Thunderbird squawked. [It’s absurd that anyone could’ve risen to the tenth-tier with such an attitude!]

Leon sighed. A large part of him wanted to keep pushing Keeper on his views, but the wavering image of Koukouva did much to recapture his attention.

To the lead golem, he asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” the golem replied.

“Play it, then.”

Again, the lead golem pressed its hand against a runic circle and the image of Koukouva began to play, though it shifted slightly to show the man looking a little more haggard.

“… have formed an Alliance. Thirty Clans in all will joinat the arsenal, though it’s less than half what I’d hoped for. If only Prince Demetrios hadn’t severed contact…”

Another voice spoke, though the projected image didn’t show the speaker.

“What of Alepo and Pindar?”

“Alepo is vacillating; I think I can bring him around. His heart was never in this invasion, to begin with. If I can provide him with transport back to Tiryns, he’ll surely join me. As for Pindar… His ambitions will go no farther than this. He only has twenty-five Clans, and his Clans are smaller than those who’ve cto join me. What can he offer those who do not join our Alliance?”

“He’ll find more support within the undecided,” the other voice said.

“Then let them stay here. The arsenal’s under my control. If he does not interfere with our plans to return home, then I don’t care what he does.”

The sound cut out, though Koukouva’s image continued to move for several seconds more before freezing again.

“That is all that remains of that call,” the golem informed Leon. “There is one more message, sent to all who remained on this plane.”

“Play it,” Leon commanded.

A third tthe golem bowed and activated an enchantment, and again, Koukouva’s image shifted. No longer was he wearing the feather cloak, but was instead clad in full scale armor. Leon was amused to see that the scales of the armor had been made to resemble an owl’s plumage.

“To all who remain here,” Koukouva began, “know that nowhere on this accursed plane remains safe. The honorable Lord Alepo has met his end at the treacherous hands of the honorless Pindar! In a betrayal of our agreement, Pindar has attacked and killed a member of our Alliance and exhausted our patience! I condemn him in the strongest possible fashion! He has no place in our Alliance! To all whom this message reaches: on the two hundredth day from the death of Jason Keraunos, our Alliance will take our leave of this plane! No more shall we bleed for these barbarians, no longer will we continue this foolhardy mission! We make for mighty-walled Tiryns!”

The projection froze again, leaving Leon with no small number of questions.

“What happened next?” he demanded of the golem. “Did Koukouva leave? What about Pindar? How many Clans pledged themselves to each?”

In the moment he paused to take a breath and organize his thoughts, the golem answered, “Lord Koukouva departed this plane as scheduled, taking with him thirty-two Clans and most of the Void-worthy arks on this plane. Those he could not take with him were salvaged or scuttled.

“Lord Pindar demanded the subjugation of all those who were left, but in their failure to secure the arks of Lord Koukouva, Lord Pindar’s confederation broke apart. Lord Pindar himself took what few arks he yet had and fled the plane with his Clan, leaving the remaining forty-four Clans to fight amongst themselves.”

“And those who called the plane home,” Keeper added. “The Brilliant Eleven freed us from their tyranny, chasing those who collared us off the mainland.”

“Yeah,” Leon whispered, more concerned with what in the hells happened to the Clan vassals who left. He already knew what happened to those who remained behind; he was now their King, after all.

“Thirty-three Clans followed Lord Koukouva,” the lead golem finally stated, answering another of Leon’s questions. “Lord Pindar took no Clans other than his own.”

“Stop calling him ‘Lord’ Pindar,” Leon growled. “By my authority as the head of the Thunderbird Clan, I deny him that title.”

The lead golem bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Aloud, he asked, “Were there any further communications with either Koukouva or Pindar after they left? Or anyone who went with them?”

“Complete systemic breakdown followed,” the lead golem replied. “All communication systems have failed.”

“Doesn’t look failed to me…” Alix murmured with a curious frown as she looked around at all the shining lights and glowing runes in the comms room.

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“This chamber remains intact, though all other critical infrastructure has degraded, or been scrapped or destroyed,” the golem stated, and Alix nodded in understanding.

“Great,” Leon whispered. “Wonder what happened to them out there.” His eyes turned upward.

[Ancestor, which one’s Tiryns?]

It took a moment, but the Thunderbird guided his vision to one of the larger planar clusters in the projected night sky, within which the fortress plane would be found. If Leon wanted answers to his questions, it seemed he would have to visit that plane. Unless, of course, he got lucky in the Nexus and ran into someone who was there. It had been eighty-thousand years since these events took place, but both Pindar and Koukouva might still be alive, despite the life expectancy of even post-Apotheosis mages only averaging a few thousand years.

Slowly, Leon’s eyes traveled around the projected ceiling until falling back down to the golem. He sighed, knowing that there wasn’t much more he could learn from this, now, and it killed him that he couldn’t get all the answers he wanted.

But there were other questions he had, and he supposed those were much more easily answered than pursuing topics that the golem couldn’t possibly enlighten him about.

“Does this palace have archives?” Leon asked.

“Yes,” the lead golem answered. “Seven remain intact—five paper and two glass.”

Leon cocked an eyebrow and turned his attention soul realm-ward.

[Glass?]

[Crystals infused with darkness magic,] the Thunderbird helpfully explained. [They can store memories and information. Not as secure as a well-enchanted book, though.]

[If those crystals are anything like the Rumble Stone, though…] Leon responded.

“Do not forget our agreement,” Keeper warned, his aura flickering slightly.

“Don’t get your cock all twisted, Keeper,” Leon replied, more than a little exasperated. “I haven’t forgotten a thing.” As soon as he said that, Alix burst out laughing, and even Cassandra giggled, though she had the grace to at least look embarrassed about it. Keeper looked decidedly unamused, though he said nothing more. “What’re the statuses of the Lumenite Bands here?” Leon asked, turning back to the lead golem.

“Nonfunctional,” the golem replied. “Their transportation capabilities are heavily degraded.”

“Can the bands be salvaged for their Lumenite?” Leon asked.

“Easily,” the golem stated.

Leon grinned. “Well, then. So. Here’s what I want you to do. There’s much I need, though I am bound by covenant not to take anything just yet. So I want you to prepare materials for when I’m freed of that restriction.”

Keeper’s face remained impassive, and after a moment, he sighed and said, “I must decline your gracious invitation, Leon Raime.”

“Suit yourself,” Leon replied with a shrug. “I’ll just give these golems a few more orders anyway. Not like it’ll matter if you don’t releasefrom that promise, but I’d still like to make sure everything I may want has been properly prepared. I don’t think either of us wantsto remain in your Empire for longer than may be necessary.”

Keeper just lightly glared at him, the effect coming across as slightly more unsettling than it might’ve otherwise given the man’s pure white eyes.

Taking his lack of argument as tacit permission, Leon eagerly turned back to the lead golem and began issuing orders. The archives were to be gathered, the Lumenite bands were to be salvaged as much as possible—as was any remaining previous materials in the palace complex, though Leon wasn’t too hopeful of much more on that front—any equipment for brewing ambrosia and repairing wisps was to be assembled in whatever damaged states they may be in, and more. Leon even wanted the hundreds of remaining golems, though he was fine with leaving them at the palace for the tbeing.

When he was finally done giving orders to essentially strip the palace bare of all remaining valuable materials, the Keeper insisted that they wrap up the tour. Leon was fine with not seeing more of the remaining palace—he could see it now with his magic senses, which wasn’t the sas with his own eyes, but it was still close enough. What he’d gained—and might gain in the future—made this trip more than worthwhile as far as he was concerned.

Now, it was tto return to Kataigida and settle in. He silently vowed that anything at all that might get in the way of his finally spending squality tas King with his people, his friends, and his family would be destroyed.