The Storm King

The Thunderer was an imposing man. Tall and built like the bear that his Tribe had been named for, with short red hair and devilishly handsome looks. He wore an easy smile, his dark eyes narrowed in what seemed like amusement. Leon took note of his aura: on par with that of the Lord Protector and the Grand Druid.

The rest of the Jaguar gathering hall was decidedly less amused. Standing at the Thunderer’s side was a stern ninth-tier woman with a serious expression that could’ve been carved from stone. Half a dozen others, all of the eighth-tier, accompanied the two. Leon also took note that none of them were obviously armed or armored, and all were dressed in similar black and gold uniforms devoid of any ostentatious embellishments.

Filling the Jaguar gathering hall were all of their elders and Clan Chiefs, save for the Jaguar himself and the ninth-tier Nikolaos, who’d entered the gathering hall with Leon. More than three hundred mages of the seventh-tier or stronger now filled the hall, and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

As Leon entered, the Jaguar and Nikolaos at his side and his retainers back out in the forecourt, the entire hall looked in his direction, and though Leon’s attention was largely taken up by the Thunderer and his followers, he spared a few glances for the rest of the Jaguars.

In the latter, he found nothing but support, grins, and nods of solidarity, even from Theophilos, despite the elder’s mild confrontation days ago.

But in the Thunderer’s people, he found no such warmth. The six behind the Thunderer himself and the ninth-tier woman fixed him in their gazes and stared him down with the intensity of predators stalking their prey. The ninth-tier woman regarded him coolly, but Leon couldn’t sense any killing intent from her.

The Thunderer, on the other hand, smiled even wider as Leon entered the hall, though he did with the demeanor of a man seeing an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while walking into the room.

“And here he is!” the Thunderer boomed, the quiet murmuring in the hall immediately silenced. “The man all of Kataigida’s been talking about! The supposed last descendent of the Most Venerable Thunderbird itself, our most venerated sovereign!”

Leon grinned with more confidence than he felt as he advanced unflinchingly toward the dais, buoyed by the looks of support given to him from the Jaguars, as well as Nikolaos and the Jaguar of the West beside him providing no small amount of support as well.

“And you are the Thunderer,” Leon loudly responded. “I’ve heard much about you in the short time I’ve spent on this fair island.”

“All good things, I hope?” the Thunderer lightly asked.

“Certainly some things,” Leon replied as he stepped up onto the dais and stood opposite the Thunderer and his entourage. He noted a little unhappily that the Thunderer was quite a bit taller than he was, standing almost a full foot above him.

“Then let’s take this as an opportunity to clear up any—” the Thunderer began before he was interrupted by the Jaguar.

“You have come here unannounced, Lord Thunder!” the Jaguar shouted, dozens of elders and Chiefs of the Jaguars adding their voices to his. “What business have you in Jaguar lands?”

“Coming here is a violation of our rights!” Nikolaos angrily added. “No one of elder rank or above may enter our lands without proper notice and approval!”

“Please forgive me,” the Thunderer said with what looked to Leon rather like condescension. “Considering the matters we have to discuss today, I’d not wanted to wait too long for permission. I instead ask for your forgiveness and hope that we can move past this minor legal technicality.”

“This is no mere technicality!” Nikolaos declared, his voice reinforced by the shouts and foot-stomping of those on the benches. “Remove yourselves from Raikos and our lands immediately!”

“I have come all this way,” the Thunderer began, but he was cut off by an insistent shout from the Jaguar.

“You will leave or you will be escorted—”

“Please,” Leon interjected, and the Jaguar immediately halted mid-threat. “He’s come a long way, and we ought to respect guests, should we not? What’s the harm in hearing what he has to say, then providing him proper escort back to Stormhollow?”

The Jaguar looked like there was nothing he wanted to do more than to drag the Thunderer out of Jaguar Tribe land with meat hooks, but he acquiesced. Nikolaos, too, bowed to Leon after a moment, and with the two of them went the rest of the hall, all of the Chiefs and elders going quiet in compliance with Leon’s request.

“You have my gratitude, Leon Raime,” the Thunderer said as the hall went silent. “I have always hoped we could work out our differences like men, not like beasts, but that is hard when there is no dialogue between disagreeing parties.”

“That lack of dialogue is hardly aided by violation of territorial rights,” Leon pointed out.

“Violation of territorial rights is made necessary when all requests for meetings go unanswered,” the Thunderer riposted.

Leon cocked an eyebrow, then snuck a sly glance at Nikolaos, who scowled.

“Well,” he said, “you’re here now. Should I assume that you’re here because of me? Or would that make me arrogant?”

“It might,” the Thunderer said, though he grinned at Leon and added a moment later, “But you’d be right in your assumption, too. I have come to address the matter of your arrival, and your intentions regarding the Ten Tribes. The balance of power within our island has always been precarious, and I will not allow any disruptions to disturb the peace.”

“The only disruption to the peace is you!” one of the stronger eighth-tier elders belted out, and a number of other elders stomped their feet in agreement.

Leon held up his hand to quiet them down, his confidence growing as the elders complied.

“What do you fear from me?” Leon asked.

“Is there anything about you that I need to fear?” the Thunderer shot back.

“You tell me, you’re the one who showed up claiming I’m a problem.”

“Very well, then I’ll just say it. We don’t need a King.”

The Thunderer’s statement was met with a chorus of angry Jaguars, and it took a long moment to get them settled down again.

Once he was able to speak again, the Thunderer continued, though now he was addressing the crowd rather than only Leon, “We have lived for many years without the ‘guidance’ of the Thunderbird. But we have been divided for too long! Our inter-Tribal disagreements have left us weak and open to attack from the barbarians across the sea! I mean to unite us! If we are united, then this plane is ours! If we are united, then we will no longer be under any threat from the outside world! We must unite!”

“And, of course, you would have us unite behind you?!” another elder roared. “Who are you to say what we must do?”

“I am the lawfully-appointed Thunderer!”

“We did not appoint you!” shouted one of the ninth-tier elders.

As much as he was amused by these exchanges—which was to say, only a little bit—Leon held up his hand again, asking for silence. Again, the elders seemed to comply, at least until Nikolaos began to speak before Leon could.

“You see there, Iron-Striker,” Nikolaos said to the Thunderer, causing a dark look to pass over the Thunderer’s face, “that is who will unite us. Our new King! A man who bears the power of our Kings of old! The same bloodline that led us to greatness for generations beyond counting!”

“And the same bloodline that was nearly extinguished upon this plane, stranding us all amongst ungrateful barbarians,” the female ninth-tier mage said. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but with her power, it carried effortlessly to the ears of everyone in the room.

She looked like she was going to continue, but the Thunderer waved her quiet, the easy smile still playing at his lips.

“Let us not become mired in heated words,” he said. “It seems like what we want is the same thing. To unite our Tribes.”

“The oppo—” Nikolaos began until Leon stepped forward and reasserted himself.

“What are you getting at?” he asked.

The Thunderer turned back to him and said, “I desire many things. I desire peace and prosperity for my people. I want the Ten Tribes to cease their pointless squabbling and become who they were meant to be. One people, under one administration, and with unified purpose.”

“Are they unified under you?” Leon pointedly asked.

“Would they be that under you instead?” the Thunderer retorted, though without heat. “It seems,” he continued, addressing Nikolaus and the rest of the hall again, “that our desires are aligned. It’s only in the details that are snagging our feet. I believe that I’m the right man for the job, to bring us all together and forge us anew, into a people stronger and more unified than we’ve ever been!” He paused and glanced at Leon before adding, “And I do not believe that handing ourselves off to the first man who comes along with the Thunderbird’s lightning will do anything to achieve that!”

Leon chuckled before any of the Jaguar’s elders could speak, drawing the attention of all in the hall. “Indeed, we want similar things,” Leon said. “I respect you for that vision—if that is what you intend. But I’ve heard much of you even in my short time spent here. And while what you profess is altruistic and admirable, whether or not that’s what you actually want, whether or not you have ulterior motives, remains to be seen.”

The Jaguar added, “You are not the most trustworthy man. No man has himself declared Thunderer without self-serving reasons.”

The ninth-tier woman spat, “You speak of trustworthiness? I’ve heard enough of you from Hector to know that the well-being of the Ten Tribes is not what you want, either!”

The Jaguar glared at the woman, practically grinding his teeth. Leon could sense his aura fluctuating with barely-contained fury, the man’s potent killing intent rippling just under the surface.

The ninth-tier woman and the other six members of the Thunderer’s entourage seemed just as willing to throw down as the Jaguar was, and Leon began to feel the tone of the room shift as other Jaguar elders and Chiefs began preparing themselves for a fight.

So, Leon loudly said, “No one’s fighting here today!”

“Agreed!” the Thunderer cried. “Violence will solve nothing!”

Leon didn’t quite agree, but he didn’t think they were at the stage where violence was necessary.

Turning back to the Thunderer, he said, “You have not unified the Ten Tribes. Many don’t follow you.”

“We just need time,” the Thunderer said neutrally. “When people see that my way is right, they will come around. No matter how stubborn, results speak for themselves. And we’ve already been getting them. Argos sacked, the Shield broken, and the Sword seized. You are unproven.”

“Victories won by the Tribes are not yours,” the Jaguar growled, but Leon silenced him with a glare.

“Let us be honest, then,” Leon continued. “If you remain as the Thunderer, then the Ten Tribes will resort to civil war.”

“Know so much about us, do you?” the Thunderer asked patronizingly. “Not even two weeks you’ve spent on Kataigida and you already know what will and will not happen?”

“I’ll admit that I don’t know as much as I would like about the Ten Tribes, but I already believe that they will not unite behind you.”

“And you think they will unite behind you, instead?” the Thunderer asked. “You have the loyalty of one Tribe already regarded as recalcitrant and uncooperative. You need more than one Tribe to rule over Kataigida.”

As if on cue, the gathering hall doors burst open, revealing a relatively young sixth-tier mage.

“Visitors have been spotted nearing Raikos!” he shouted for the whole hall to hear. “They bear the colors of the Screaming Eagles!”

That news set off a storm of muted whispers amongst the Jaguars, and many eyes turned back toward the Jaguar in glee.

The Thunderer, apparently sensing that he’d overstayed his welcome, simply smiled and said, “So be it. Leon, I do not wish to bring death to my people. I want them to enjoy all that life has to offer. If we are at an impasse, then let us at least do what we can to resolve our differences without spilling blood.”

‘Is that a trick?’ Leon found himself wondering. ‘So he can rally his forces while we dither about, thinking we’re at peace? His new army is here on Kataigida while a few Tribal armies are busy occupying the Sword…’

Of course, he knew he couldn’t say something like that aloud. He’d have little to gain from doing so, so he nodded and said, “I agree that peace should reign on Kataigida. And I will work to ensure that it does.”

The Jaguars cried out and stomped their support for him, though Leon barely heard it, reserving his attention for the Thunderer, who smiled and politely bowed slightly. “So long as we remain of a piece on that matter, then I can at least relax,” he said.

“Then relax you can,” Leon said.

The Thunderer smiled again. “That’s good to hear. I was, I’ll admit, a little worried that you were a warmonger.”

“Was that so worrying?” Leon asked. “You started a war, didn’t you? You could’ve stayed on Kataigida defending the Ten Tribe’s own land, yet you took the fight to the Imperials.”

“A needed strike to move the battlelines from our shores to those of our enemy. Just because we were staying on our island didn’t mean the barbarians were leaving us be.”

For the first time, the words of the Thunderer drew some agreeing stomps from the Jaguar elders, so Leon let the matter drop.

“Now, then,” the Thunderer said, “I have spoken my piece, so I will leave you with one final warning, Leon Raime. You and your bloodline are not the way forward for our people. Leave us to our own devices.”

The Jaguar elders made a racket in protest, but the Thunderer didn’t seem to care as he stepped off the dais and began walking toward the door, his seven followers at his back. He paused for just a moment at the door, glancing over his shoulder at Leon, and gave him one last smile, though Leon was unsure how to interpret it. And then he was gone, taking flight with his own power rather than relying on any magical devices, as any tenth-tier mage ought to as far as Leon was concerned.

“Pompous, arrogant tyrant,” the Jaguar muttered, his words echoed in some form or fashion throughout the hall.

“We ought to have taken his head!” one Chief shouted.

“He’s tenth-tier!” another countered.

“We could’ve taken him,” the first retorted. “We have enough ninth-tier mages, and we have our King! We could not have lost!”

“No!” Leon thundered, silencing the hall. “I will not instigate civil war! I have said this before and I’ll say it as many times as needed: I will not be the cause for the Ten Tribes to fight amongst themselves! And I would much rather defeat the Thunderer in a test of words than a test of arms! I will not back down from any challenge, but I will not define any reign of mine with violence!”

“Unfortunately,” the Jaguar coldly stated, “war needs at least two players, and they don’t have to agree on the rules.”

Leon scowled. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Your Majesty,” one of the ninth-tier Jaguars said, “it would be prudent to prepare for war, even if it isn’t needed.”

“We would not want to be caught with claws retracted,” another added.

Leon’s scowl deepened slightly, and he looked to the Jaguar and Nikolaos.

“Many of our more capable warriors are in our fleets,” the Jaguar stated. “At the very least, we can recall some of them. Not enough to be an instigation, but enough to improve our position on the island, at least.”

“A prudent decision,” Nikolaos agreed.

Leon grunted and waved in acquiescence. “Now, the Screaming Eagles are almost here…”

---

“… we’re really just leaving like that?” Linda asked as they took leave of Raikos. “The Screaming Eagles are only a hundred miles away, we can head them off and make them see reason!”

“They will see reason one way or another,” the Thunderer said. “And to intercept them could be interpreted as hostile, or at least insulting. I will visit them in a few days, but for now, let us return to Stormhollow.”

“The Tribes are not going to remain docile,” Linda growled, her Lion heritage coming through in her demeanor. “There will be war if he does not leave, or if we do not get rid of him before any more damage can be done.”

The Thunderer didn’t respond, his face remaining impassive.

“Hector isn’t going to like this, either,” Linda pointed out.

“Hector will do as instructed,” the Thunderer said. “He’s loyal and believes in the cause.”

“Will he forsake the Thunderbird’s own, though?” Linda asked.

“Hector’s with us,” the Thunderer insisted. “He would never side with the Jaguar of the West.”

Linda hummed, the sound barely audible even to the tenth-tier Thunderer over the sound of rushing wind as they rocketed above plains, farms, and small Jaguar villages. “Do you really not want to do anything?” she asked again.

“I’m not going to war,” the Thunderer said. “But that doesn’t mean we’re doing nothing. Call upon some of our allied elders on the Elder Council. There are things we can do to limit the spread of this… monarchism.”

The rest of the flight proceeded quietly, the Thunderer and Linda retreating into their thoughts. Whatever would come, they’d have to be prepared, and plans were already forming in their minds…