The Storm King

Chapter 499: Nestor

Leon whipped around, his blade in hand as the hole that allowed him into the sphere of light sealed itself behind him.

“What is this?” he almost shouted as he turned back to face the man in the bed, who despite looking like the living dead barely batted an eye at Leon’s brandished weapon. However, Leon saw his eyes flitting between him and the sword often, so he hoped that it meant that the man could still be harmed with it. Given where he was and the fact that he couldn’t see through the man’s shaky aura, though, he wasn’t going to take anything for granted.

Instead of answering directly, the man said, “I’m glad you came down here so readily…” Now that Leon was here in front of him, he sounded much less strained than before, though his voice was still barely more than a tired whisper. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had refused to meet with me down here…”

“Who are you?” Leon demanded to know.

“I am exactly who my golem outside claimed me to be,” the man replied, the pale, waxy skin on his face stretching into a grotesque smile. “I am Nestor, the son of Jason Keraunos, Prince of the Thunderbird Clan and the Kingdom of the Storm.”

“Not a fucking chance!” Leon shouted, not sensing anything about the man that would lead him to believe that this ‘Nestor’ was kin. “I have it on damned good authority that Nestor died thousands of years ago, childless. You can be nothing more than an imposter!”

The man chuckled, though it seemed to take quite a bit of energy to do so. This pathetic display left Leon feeling a little foolish for continuing to hold his weapon at the ready, but he didn’t let his guard drop for even a moment.

It took ‘Nestor’ a few seconds to summon the strength to speak again, “I… assume that… our Honored Ancestor… told you of my death?”

Leon scowled, and that was answer enough for the emaciated, bedridden man.

“Yes, yes, it could be no one else, she must’ve thought I died after everyone else assigned here left… Well, my young kinsman… the thing about the Thunderbird is that… she can’t see you if you have… no soul realm…”

Leon’s eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. “You… have no soul realm?!”

“I… do not,” the man admitted. “In the course of my experiments…” He gestured not far behind him to the glowing white stone, “… I became infected with some kind of ancient curse… by the way… do not touch that thing, its power is… beyond anything you can muster to defend yourself…”

Continuing, ‘Nestor’ explained, “I was… confined here before my father… set off to kill the Grave Warden of this plane…” Leon blinked in confusion, lost for a moment until he recalled the Thunderbird’s story of Jason Keraunos’ death and of the man who killed him, the ‘Planar Lord’ of Aeterna. “My body survived the curse, but my soul realm was consumed, cutting me off not… only from most of my power… but also from our Ancestor. As far… as she would be concerned… I am dead… for she cannot see me… and my power… is gone.”

Finally, Leon’s sword dropped a few inches. The man was weak and practically on the verge of death, and nothing he could sense would lead him to think otherwise.

“What proof do you have of any of this?” Leon asked. “You could be anyone as far as I know, how can I possibly be sure you are who you say you are?”

“You cannot,” ‘Nestor’ croaked. “I am but an old man… barely able to absorb enough magic… to keep myself alive… by staying here… there’s nothing I can do now… that would prove my identity to you… not in the way you want me to…”

‘Nestor’ squinted at him in mild frustration but raised his shaking hand and lightly snapped his fingers. A flash of silver-blue light appeared between them, the tiniest arc of the Thunderbird’s lightning connecting his thumb and index finger for just long enough for Leon to see.

“Is that… sufficient?” he asked as he slumped back in his bed in an almost exaggerated manner as if he were subtly chastising Leon for his mistrust.

“I suppose it is,” Leon said, lowering his blade but not dropping his guard entirely. A little flash of light was one thing, he knew that illusions weren’t that difficult to create for many people. But when that tiny arc of lightning appeared, he could feel something in him tremble in resonance. As far as his senses could tell, that was no illusion. “So… now what, then?”

“You could… tell me of the Clan,” ‘Nestor’ requested. “I’ve no inkling… of what has happened… in all the long years I’ve been here…”

Leon nodded as he took a few steps forward, but his eyes drifted toward the glowing stone not too far away.

“I can give you the general run-down, but in turn, how about you tell me what was going on in this place?”

‘Nestor’ smiled and nodded, seeming no more than a sickly grandfather hoping to dote on his grandchild a little bit.

Understanding that as a silent plea for him to start first, and knowing that conjuring that tiny bolt probably took quite a bit out of a man so injured, Leon decided to just jump right in.

“I guess the best place to begin would be at the beginning—or at least, the beginning as I see it, I suppose it must feel more like an ending to you… As far as I know, Jason Keraunos died roughly eighty thousand years ago…”

It took Leon quite a while to finish narrating his family’s history for ‘Nestor’, and even then, he left out quite a few of the more personal details he could’ve included, especially that of House Raime’s recent troubles and of Justin Isynos. If the lead golem was correct in saying that Justin was imprisoned in this place, then he didn’t want this man who he still had a few doubts about to know just how much power that might give him over Leon and Valeria.

But for his distant ancestors, he gave as much detail as he could, for the most part, but he couldn’t relay that much even if it took a little while to say. He’d heard about Jason Keraunos’ death from the Thunderbird, and she hadn’t been paying too much attention, so he didn’t barely even knew what Jason had been trying to do when he led the best and brightest in the Clan to their deaths.

The one notable detail he left out was the name of his ancestor who started House Raime, who he knew to be Nestor’s younger brother, hoping to catch the old man in a lie. In this, however, he was met with failure.

“Ahh… so Demetrios survived…?” ‘Nestor’ said with a wistful smile on his face, and Leon’s heart just about stopped. That ‘Nestor’ knew Demetrios’ name—the man who would later change his name to ‘Raime’ and found Leon’s House—was more proof than anything before it that he was who he claimed to be.

Leon felt his resolve to distrust this man start to falter as the possibility that he’d just met, for the very first time with the sole exception of his father, someone who was a part of his family, someone who could share at least a tiny part of the burden of being the last one of their line in existence. His eyes started to burn with unshed tears, but Leon simply cleared his throat and steadied himself. Letting his guard drop too quickly would only lead to disaster in his mind.

Fortunately, it seemed that ‘Nestor’ didn’t notice this deliberate attempt to stay untrusting on Leon’s part, or if he did, he chose not to comment on it.

“But…” the old man continued, “to be… the last one… I had no idea… our Clan had fallen so far…”

“By your own admission, no one has come here for thousands of years,” Leon replied, trying to maintain as much skepticism as he could.

“That’s… not so long… a time as someone as… young as you… might think…”

Leon shrugged. “I think I’d consider a single day stuck in a place like this to be interminably long, let alone eighty-thousand years.”

‘Nestor’ smiled in amusement. “It gets… easier…”

“It did… though not by much…” ‘Nestor’ replied. “They did not… get far…”

“I noticed, they’re corpses yet remain outside.”

“A good… warning… to any who might follow…’

‘Nestor’s’ smile widened in the way one’s does when asked about their favorite topic by someone they’re trying to bond with, and he explained with as much energy and enthusiasm as he could, “That… is a fragment of the local moon…”

“Yes…” ‘Nestor’ replied. “I noticed… upon our arrival on this plane… something was strange up there… so I convinced my father… to let me take a chunk of moon stone… And lo, behold! This thing… radiated with such magic… that it simply… cannot be natural!” As he spoke, the old man struggled to rise as he strove to gesture at the moon rock more emphatically. “And the most… incredible thing… is that this is just a rock I… carved from the surface! No different… than any other!”

Leo stared at the old man, then back to the moon rock. “How… did you even manage to get a hold of this thing? And what… is it doing? What power is this?”

“Do you… know about… Universe Fragments?”

Leon nodded as his eyes widened.

“It was my hypothesis… that there is one in the core… of the moon. One of unparalleled… powers over light magic… But I was never… able to prove this… to my father before he fell.”

Leon nodded, now starting to understand why the moon rock was emitting so much power. His blade, according to the Thunderbird, once held a Universe Fragment called the ‘Iron Needle’. The blade was powerful, and while Leon was unsure how much of that was due to the weapon’s former accessory or because it was made of Adamant, a material forged from the Thunderbird’s own blood, it seemed reasonable to him to think that the powers of Universe Fragments could ‘rub off’ on objects they were in close contact with for extended periods.

“You brought it here to study?” Leon asked.

“I did… This place was remote, far from… the Grave Warden… it was the best possible… place to conduct such research… to see what could be learned… from something that had been touched… by a Universe Fragment!”

“And have you learned anything?”

“I have learned much… but nothing that could help me… when the curse manifested…” ‘Nestor’ replied.

Leon nodded again as he took a hesitant step back. “You said it was dangerous to keep the opening in this dome open, does that mean that rock is dangerous?”

“You’ve mentioned this ‘Grave Warden’ before, who is he? The Thunderbird told me a few things about him, but she didn’t get too specific.”

‘Nestor’ settled back into his bed, his expression taking a turn for the serious. “The Grave Warden is the man… who controls this plane… he murdered my father… most of my brothers… and my sister!”

“His power exceeded… that of my father’s… somehow… And those that he slaughtered… that day… If I had the ability… to seek vengeance… then I would…” ‘Nestor’ sagged back into his pillows in exhaustion, that brief outburst seeming to take all of the energy he possessed.

Leon just stood there, staring, unsure how to proceed.

After a short period, though, the old man seemed to calm himself and fixed Leon in his piercing gaze.

“I’ve answered… some of your questions… Perhaps now… you can answer some more… of mine…?”

Leon grinned with a slight hint of bitterness, then nodded.

“First… May I know… your name?”

Leon immediately flushed with embarrassment, suddenly realizing that he never properly introduced himself.

“Ah! Uh, sorry about that, I should’ve led with that, shouldn’t I?”

‘Nestor’ chuckled and nodded, but leaned forward just enough to show interest.

“My name is Leon,” Leon said.

“Ahh, Leon. A good name. A strong name.” ‘Nestor’ nodded in appreciation, then gave Leon a mildly suggestive look. “And those women… who arrived with you? Friends of yours? Maybe more?”

Leon felt a sudden welling of protectiveness and territorialism flare up within him, but he battered it right back down for the sake of civility. Still, he didn’t like the look ‘Nestor’ was giving him after asking that question.

“They’re with me,” Leon said with a dangerous smile. “In more ways than one.”

‘Nestor’ chuckled again, though it seemed to Leon like he was laughing at his expense. “Ahh, don’t… worry too much, Leon… those lovely ladies… are in no danger… from a man… who can barely string… a sentence together…”

Leon’s bitter smile remained, though he supposed what ‘Nestor’ said was true. And what was more, he was becoming more and more convinced that this man was who he said he was.

[Have you been listening in, Xaphan?] Leon asked his demonic partner, having no one else to ask with the Thunderbird flying about somewhere else.

He felt Xaphan’s attention rise up, and the Lord of Flame responded, [I’ve been keeping an ear open.]

[What do you think so far?]

[Is that it? Didn’t you claim that this guy is the reason why you were trapped in that prison?]

Leon had to stop himself from shrugging for no reason in front of the old man, but he generally agreed with Xaphan. His own experience with hatred had made it clear that it couldn’t be sustained for long, not without having constant contact with the person responsible for it. His thoughts briefly turning to Justin and Valeria as he pondered this.

“There is… something I would ask… of you… young Leon…” ‘Nestor’ said as he reached a hand out toward Leon. “I would like… to take your hand…”

“It’s nothing… bad… I assure you,” ‘Nestor’ replied. “There are things… that you must know… of our Clan… Things that our Honored Ancestor… likely hasn’t… told you…”

Leon gave him even more of a skeptical look.

“She’s lied to you… before… hasn’t she? She’s a fickle beast… one that holds her cards… close to her chest… She does not give information… easily… But I will give you… everything that you need… Everything you need… to restore our Clan to… supremacy…”

Leon hesitated, but after a moment he began to walk forward. He didn’t take the old man’s hand immediately upon arriving, but he stared down deep into his dark brown eyes just out of reach, searching for any sign that the man was deceiving him. But in the old man’s eyes, he saw nothing but genuine concern, along with a hefty dash of residual anger from earlier in the conversation.

So, with extreme trepidation, Leon reached out for ‘Nestor’s’ hand.

He expected many things to happen once their fingers touched. He expected some kind of flood of information akin to what Xaphan had done several times before to give him the knowledge he needed for certain things. He kind of expected maybe some kind of power transfer to happen, where the old man might give him some kind of power boost to reach the eighth-tier more quickly.

Leon’s eyes widened in alarm as the smiling form of ‘Nestor’ lying in his immaculately preserved bed vanished, revealing a rotten and desiccated bedframe, and the completely fleshless skeleton lying lifeless upon it. A few scraps of cloth remained from the bed’s trimmings, but other than that, there was nothing but a pile of rotten wood and bone in front of him, practically glowing in the light of the moon stone.

Before Leon had a chance to shout, leap backward, or do anything at all to protect himself or express his surprise and alarm, there was a scarlet flash of light from a ruby hidden in the skeleton’s ribcage, and a massive torrent of lightning erupted from the skeletal remains.

Leon was enveloped in this sudden eruption, his magic melting away before it, completely unable to protect him from the sheer amount of power contained within the ruby.

And as quickly as it had appeared, the lightning ceased, leaving the ruby cracked, broken, and lusterless within the skeleton’s ribcage, and Leon stood before it, his eyes hollow and dead, an arm extended in a vain attempt to shield himself.

A moment later, Leon fell backward, his body limp, the connection between his mind within his magic body and his physical form disrupted, the last thing he registered before his eyes shut being the new presence he could sense in his soul realm.