The Storm King

The land around Sentudon was remarkably pleasant. The weather was warm and dry, while the lake and the river system that fed it ensured productive fields all around the city. The fields closest to Sentudon were dominated by picturesque fields of golden wheat, chickpeas, and several species of fruit-bearing trees and vegetable fields that he didn’t recognize. Further out, the shallow hills were dominated by more recognizable olive trees and grape vines.

Leon stared out at this landscape with a quiet smile, his eyes tracking the farmers as they went about their business as if their city wasn’t currently occupied.

The population of the city itself weren’t so ready to pretend that everything was fine. The streets were largely empty, with most people coming outside only when absolutely necessary. Leon wasn’t blocking anyone from leaving or entering the city by foot or ship, though, so thankfully the city’s food supply remained stable, but most other forms of commerce had ground to a halt.

For the past hour or so, Leon had plastered serenity onto his face. His lips were upturned into a slight smile and he put on the image of a man unconcerned with anything at all. His finger rhythmically tapping the arm of his chair betrayed the lie, however.

He’d posted up in an empty estate out in the city’s suburbs, outside of the walls. After making his final demand to the city’s remaining Azadan, he’d left them in their Archonate building to discuss their next moves. A day had passed, longer than he’d have expected such a debate to last, but he’d noticed a quarter of an hour ago that a large party was on their way over, including the Azadan Tyrios.

Clear Day had arrived only a few minutes after that to announce that the Azadan had reached their decision. Now all they had to do was wait.

The tau seemed about as nervous as Leon was, though he was far more sedate than Leon. He leaned against the wooden railing of a balcony only a few feet away from Leon and stared out at the fields, a grave look in his red eyes.

“What… do you expect them to say?” he asked Leon.

Leon’s finger stilled. He knew confidence could be contagious, and he heard a quaver in the tau’s voice, so he smiled and said, “They have only one option. One real option. They’ll accept my new deal, we’ll move on to Shatufan, and life will continue here as it has.”

“And… if they should not accept your terms?” Clear asked.

Leon’s confident demeanor cracked slightly. “They will. They will.”

Clear didn’t look convinced and turned his attention back to the spectacular view they had. Leon leaned back in his chair and resumed his tapping. Fortunately, neither of them had to wait long before the Azadan and their Thunderman escort arrived.

They were escorted into the room by Gaius, Valeria, and Cassandra. Anzu was nearby, but Maia had wanted to explore the lake. From what Leon could feel through their connection, he didn’t think it would be long before the lake would have a population of river nymphs calling it home.

“My King,” Gaius said as Valeria and Cassandra went to Leon’s side, where two other chairs were already waiting for them. “Azadan Tyrios, Meleager, and Cleander.”

The three Azadan he introduced were the heads of the delegation, it seemed, and were the strongest of those Azadan that remained. Of those that had resisted, none had survived, though many of the weaker warriors that had fought under them were making quick recoveries in hospitals and aid stations all around the city.

“King Leon,” Tyrios said as he stepped forward, the tenth-tier mage apparently keen on speaking for his city and getting this over with. Leon sized him up, his heart beating rapidly, his arms and legs tingling in anticipation as magic and adrenaline flowed freely.

This was it. What this man had to say could very well dictate the course of the campaign from this point onward. If he didn’t accept Leon’s terms, then Leon would have to garrison the city, and if he did that, the limit of his military action would likely be Shatufan. He had the warriors for two garrisons, no more, and he had five more large cities to reach after Sentudon.

“After much debate,” Tyrios continued, his tone and body language practically screaming that he’d rather be anywhere else than before Leon right then, “we have made our decision. We are ready to give you our answer.”

He paused, and Leon’s heart felt like it was doing somersaults in his chest. His stomach tightened and his legs tensed. If Tyrios didn’t say what he needed to, Leon would be on his feet and taking his head in less than a second.

Tyrios seemed to sense this, or at least he saw something in Leon’s eyes that made him rapidly turn pale.

Without much more stalling, the man frowned deeply and fell to his knees. He breathed deeply, every breath sounding labored. He laid his hands on the ground and bent further down, until his forehead touched the floor.

“Sentudon has accepted your terms,” he announced, his voice muffled slightly by the plush carpet he now spoke into. “We acknowledge you as our King.”

‘We acknowledge you as our King.’

Leon replayed the statement over several times in his head, relishing every syllable. His heart jumped in relief, then began to still. The tension bled from his body as easily as it might under one of Elise or Valeria’s backrubs, and he had to close his eyes and turn away from Tyrios, lest his relief be too apparent on his face.

When he opened his eyes, he found Clear Day holding the railing tightly, looking like if he released his grip, he’d collapse from sheer relief.

When he turned his attention back to his guests, it was with a smirk on his lips. He shot up from his chair and strode over to Tyrios, bidding him to rise with a quick gesture.

Tyrios remained on the ground for a long moment before cautiously moving back up into a kneeling position and looking up at Leon.

“Get up,” Leon growled as they made eye contact. “Kneeling once is enough. I won’t have your dignity dragged any longer than is necessary.”

The Azadan hesitated for only a moment longer before Leon reached down, grabbed him by the shoulders, and lifted him back onto his feet.

“It’s generally considered wise to hop to when your King gives you a command,” Cassandra haughtily remarked with her arms folded over her chest. “If you’re going to be good subjects of my husband, then you should learn the value of alacrity.”

“It’s fine,” Leon said with a dismissive wave, though from the way Cassandra sternly glared, he didn’t think it would be the last time he heard from her about this. Putting that aside for the moment, he called for a few more chairs to be brought in, letting everyone sit comfortably in the light shining in from the balcony.

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Leon and his people sat rather comfortably, while the three Azadan looked like they would rather be anywhere else.

Ignoring their demeanors, Leon stated, “I’ll refrain from stationing a garrison in your city. So long as you prove loyal, that will remain the status quo.”

Tyrios shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We… it will be hard to… announce this decision to our people. There may be protests.”

Leon shrugged. “I’m patient. And understanding. The prisoners my people have taken in storming the city will be released without ransom. Hopefully that’ll keep instability to a minimum.”

A long sigh escaped Tyrios’ lips. Despite his softer belly, he still possessed tenth-tier strength, which became apparent as he relaxed his hold over the armrests on his chair—the olive wood had cracked and deformed from his anxious grip.

“As a sign of… our… our goodwill,” the Azadan continued, “we’ve prepared this gift for you.”

With a wave of his hand, Tyrios conjured a dozen ingots of Aurichalcum, each as long as one of Leon’s arms, and about as thick. Aurichalcum was dense, though, so those ingots represented about half a ton in weight.

With wide eyes, Leon quietly exclaimed, “A Kingly gift! I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t help but wonder…”

“Several days ago, Shatufan sent out ‘gifts’ of Aurichalcum to keep Manuchehr’s league strong. Elegan and Hosragan were each promised large payments in Aurichalcum for their cooperation.”

Leon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, his aura flaring slightly. “Both cities have reinforced Shatufan? I haven’t seen any large-scale movements from either of them…”

“They promised to send troops. But it’s only been a few days.”

Leon nodded as he straightened himself up. As he projected his magic senses to sweep over the whole of the Far West, Valeria asked, “Where did this Aurichalcum come from? We seized all that had been stored in their warehouses…”

Blinking back to the conversation after having seen nothing of note from either Elegan or Hosragan, Leon said, “It’s not like we did an exhaustive search of the city or its environs, and the people in Shatufan would be incentivized not to tell us where any reserves might be kept. Honestly, I’m only surprised that Shatufan saw fit to crack them open; I’d have thought they’d take any stores to the grave.”

“Our northern neighbor is as stubborn as a dagger-fringe eel, and Manuchehr is… especially intransigent. To defy you, they’ll bite off their own face.”

Leon snorted in amusement. “Sounds like they’ll make for fantastic citizens of my Kingdom.” Though he was partially joking, the Azadan didn’t look at all amused, so Leon pushed through their relatively poor reception. “We weren’t going to give Shatufan the same deal we offered you. Neither deal. But speaking of deals…”

Leon shot Clear Day a pointed look.

“Now that this has been settled—at least the broad strokes, I know you three are going to have a lot of work to do to make sure this city doesn’t tear itself apart—I’ll be meeting with the others to prepare for the push to Shatufan. Hopefully we’ll be able to get underway within the week. Before then, I want you to head to Hosragan and Elegan and make them the same offer you gave to Sentudon.”

Clear Day glanced out the balcony for a long moment, frowning in thought. When he turned his red eyes back to Leon, they gleamed with determination and purpose. “I’ll not fail this time. There won’t be a need for violent conquest with them, I swear it.”

“No need for that, I trust you.” Leon waved his hand as if to dismiss Clear’s serious attitude. “If they deny you, that says more about them than it does you, my friend. I have full faith in your abilities, so don’t worry about failing to convince them. Some people are just beyond convincing.”

Clear grinned while Cassandra lightly elbowed Leon in the side. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Did your family ever marry with that Shiny Bull family or whatever? You’re bull-headed enough to make a bull look like an ox.”

“That seems like a cruel comparison to the bull somehow, but I’m not going to dive too deeply into that.”

“Good. Helps me stay looking mysterious. And hot

Valeria gave Cassandra an incredulous look. “After what I’ve seen you do, I don’t think there’s any mystery left.”

Sensing that the meeting was coming to a rapid close, Leon leaned forward to break the glare Valeria and Cassandra were sharing and dismissed the three Azadan. They had a lot of work to do to rebuild what had been lost and damaged during the assault, and he wanted Sentudon back to normal as soon as possible. It was his city now, even if he wasn’t exactly welcome in it.

At the same time, Clear wasted no time giving his goodbyes before taking to the skies in his tau form and flying northwest. He had two cities to save from Leon’s wrath.

Meanwhile, Leon began speaking with Gaius about his opinion on the advance to Shatufan while Cassandra and Valeria lost themselves to good-natured arguing. Every so often, Leon glanced northward. The hills and some sparse forests were in the way, but he knew where Shatufan was.

’Within the week, you’ll be mine. It’s almost time…’

---

‘It’s almost time,’ Manuchehr thought with panic rising in his chest, bringing with it a stomach tightening in anxiety. He tasted stomach acid in the back of his throat and his hands shook as he stared southward.

Sentudon had fallen. Hosragan, Elegan, and Krizos had abandoned Shatufan. No other potential allies would get to Shatufan in time to provide any relief—the monstrous fleet was approaching, glittering in the false moonlight of the Origin Spark like stars. They’d reach Shatufan’s territory before morning. The outlying villages and estates weren’t particularly fortified and wouldn’t put up much resistance to their push.

Leon Raime would be at his gates in less than a day, and there was little Manuchehr could see stopping him from taking the city. The city defenders had all been put on alert, but there had been reports of significant desertion over the past few days, after rumors of Sentudon’s fall had spread.

These men didn’t want to die, and while on some level, Manuchehr didn’t blame them, his more primal instincts were to curse them to painful deaths, wailing for their loved ones to save them, but their cries going unheard. Such men would die unmourned, their bodies would be given to carrion, and their bones thrown into Hejis, the deepest of the Finger Lakes. The Aesii would take them to meet their Ancestors and the gods, but both would spurn such cowards from the Realm of All-Light, leaving their souls to wander in darkness until their sins could be forgiven.

Manuchehr was determined not to allow himself to fall into the same situation. If Leon Raime took Shatufan—as Manuchehr thought likely despite all his preparations—then he would have to walk over his dead body to enter the city.

Though… Manuchehr would prefer if he never entered the city at all. He’d rather the tyrant died screaming in agony that would follow him into the next life, his frustrations made reality, his ambitions unfulfilled.

Despite everything, Manuchehr didn’t regret anything he’d done. Making deals with Leon Raime had been profitable for a few months, and his people certainly seemed to like the storm crystal made in Artorion, but it wasn’t worth the potential downsides that trading with a city under siege might’ve brought. Manuchehr had done what he believed was best for his city, even Shatufan had suffered as an indirect effect.

‘All of this is your fault,’ he raged bitterly as he glared at the heavy cruiser leading the flight to Shatufan. He vaguely recognized its kind—such arks were fairly typical among Basileis and Anakes, though he only knew that from books and hearsay, having never gone further east than the occasional visit to Archelion.

His fingers tightened over a thin glass vial the size of his index finger. He had to control himself so as to not to crack the glass and spill the sparkling reddish-brown sand all over his office. Such a thing would prove disastrous—the alchemist couple who’d whipped it up had emphasized the power contained in the sand despite its complete lack of magical aura.

Such a weapon, the husband had told Manuchehr, would surely blast any mage below the thirteen-tier to pieces. With little other choice than to trust the man, Manuchehr had forked over a colossal amount of wealth, digging deeply into his family’s private vaults to find the liquidity he needed to immediately buy this one vial.

Much was riding on the performance of this explosive, but as Leon Raime’s fleet drew closer, Manuchehr found himself starting to doubt less and less. The vial grew heavy, the knowledge that all it would take was a tiny current of lightning to ignite the stuff weighing heavily on Manuchehr’s mind. It would be so easy. Leon Raime would never see it coming. His savage horde would see their King blown to pieces, and then they’d scatter to the winds, fearful of Shatufan’s power.

As much as Manuchehr dearly wished that would happen, he doubted it severely. Leon Raime, at least, he now thought he could kill, if he timed his moment right.

He just had to wait for the idiot King to arrive, and then he’d end the man’s tyrannical life, bringing peace and security back to Shatufan…