The Storm King

Cold sweat beaded at his brow, sparkling in the neutral glow of the tree before him.

His stomach churned with dread, and the animalistic survival instinct within him demanded that he flee from this chamber rather than stay and admit his failures.

But he was no animal—he was a Basileus, an Ocean Lord, and most of all, a man.

He would not run from this, even if what he had to report did not cast him in the most glorious light.

Triton’s eyes flickered up from the floor, where they’d been tracing the silver veins in the blue quartz floor—known rather obsequiously as tritonite within his dominion, though he’d had no hand in naming it—and landed on the tree before him.

It wasn’t a large thing, but none of them truly were; it took millennia for them to grow as much as it took a mundane oak to grow in decades, but no mundane oak could do what this tree could.

The dark brown surface of the tree was spongy and hard, resembling coral more than bark, and covered in natural whirling patterns that glittered like gold dust had been sprinkled within them.

That glittering came from the millions of runes carved with extreme precision within the whirls, and for that reason alone, the tree’s slow growth was more boon than curse, as it reduced the need for maintenance on the enchantments as the tree grew.

The translucent, ghostly leaves of the sparse canopy glowed with soft golden light, while the tree’s roots, sinking into a pool of saltwater only a step in front of Triton, wound and curled around a smooth, glowing crystal that formed the base of the tree’s platform.

It was a beautiful thing, but Triton was in no mood to appreciate it.

Rather, the longer the tree remained as it was, the more anxious he became.

As much as he dreaded what was about to happen, he also just wanted to get it over with and return to his duties.

He waited for long minutes beyond the scheduled moment; his Lord, usually punctual to a fault, made him wait.

Not once did Triton think of rising from where he kneeled, waiting, waiting…

The roots twitched, and Triton’s heart jumped.

The soft glow of the leaves shifted into harsher tones, and the tree’s spindly branches creaked as they curled to reach toward him.

The glittering runes within the whirls shone more brightly as Triton was almost enveloped by the branches and translucent leaves.

“Triton.”

His name, spoken softly, struck his ears like a thunderclap, and it took all of his self-control not to jump out of his skin.

He knew that he could be seen by his Lord, but as was his wont, Kamran did not share his own image.

“Lord Kamran,” Triton respectfully responded, his breath hitching slightly before his tongue followed his brain’s commands.

Kamran sighed long and deeply, and Triton almost heard the smile on his face as he said, “It has been a good day, Triton.

A good day.

Many enemies of Khosrow’s Law have been laid low, and Anax Irix’il fell at my hand.

With him, Halbast has lost the entire Strand of Meonos.”

A surge of glee filled Triton, but was quickly smothered by the Basileus.

Meonos was one of the largest strands in the universe—it was a thick line of densely-inhabited planes within the Great Strand of Deucalion, and sat at a junction of other strands within the Great Strand.

Wealthy, strategically vital, and heavily fortified, it was a jewel in Halbast’s domain, second only in luster to Halbast’s own home strand of Karinthas.

Losing it was a dreadful blow in his war against Kamran.

Triton shuddered, his glee fleeing as quickly as it had come.

His own accomplishments were not nearly so glorious in comparison.

“Tell me of you,” Kamran commanded, his triumphant tone growing colder and more serious.

“Does the bloodline of that feathered tyrant still have a home?”

Triton closed his eyes for a moment and summoned his courage; with his heart thumping in his throat, he told Kamran the truth.

“My progress has been slow.

The defenses of the enemy have proven stronger than anyone anticipated.

After the initial breakthrough and capture of key positions, my forces have been unable to advance at a comparable speed, and my enemy has fought hard.”

A simple, but accurate report.

Kamran didn’t need to know what his armies were doing down to the last tactical detail; he only needed to know the broader operational situation.

A long pause followed, the leaves enveloping Triton seeming to share his dread, their leaves darkening slightly as they awaited Kamran’s response.

“In a hundred thousand years,” he intoned, “I have never once regretted lifting you and Antipatra from the barbarous lands that you were born into.

Many others have failed me and paid for their incompetence.

But you two…”

Triton endured his Lord’s words quietly, though each syllable struck him like a lightning bolt.

“Antipatra has struggled to kill one person, and you struggle to take one city.

Tell me why, Triton; why has this city defied you for so long?”

Triton was ready with his answer and gave it immediately.

“The enemy is utilizing an ancient technique—a dome of storms that surrounds their city, preventing my arks from easily approaching, giving their arks cover and concealment, and allowing their static defenses to easily strike my forces without being struck themselves.”

“I am familiar with such defensive wards,” Kamran replied.

“I use them around several of my own critical positions.

Hmm… open your mind to me.”

Triton did as bid, not once truly disallowing Kamran into his mind.

The leaves of the tree darkened to a near black, and Triton felt a pinch in his mind.

With this sharp pain came the intricate shape of an ancient rune that he didn’t recognize, though he’d never been much of an enchanter.

“This will be the key you use to bypass this defense,” Kamran stated.

Triton replied, “I will share it with my—”

“No, you will use it yourself.”

Triton choked on his statement, his blood freezing in his veins.

“We lead from the front, Triton,” Kamran said.

“As the Great Lord did in eons past, against foes greater than any we face in this decadent age.”

For the first time in millennia, Triton vocalized his disagreement with his Lord.

He didn’t plan on it, but his tongue rebelled at being ordered onto the battlefield.

“I am commanding a fleet of ten thousand, my Lord—a fleet that grows with every passing day as I maintain a flow of reinforcements.

I am needed on my flag ark to coordinate—”

“Silence,” Kamran hissed, and Triton immediately complied, the leaves of the tree turning an angry red as they curled in even more, almost brushing against his clothes and hair, reaching for him like Kamran’s hands reaching for his neck.

“Do you not feel shame in remaining safe while you order your men to die?

We are the Lords envisioned by Khosrow himself, and we will behave accordingly.

We will lead in whatever direction we advance.

As I have in Meonos, and a thousand other places.

My fleet numbers in the millions, Triton, yet I fulfill my duty.

If I thought you could not meet my expectations, I would have left you on that barren rock that you once called home.”

Kamran paused, and when he spoke again, his voice had deepened, turning more threatening than any other moment in the exchange thus far.

“I will return you to that rock if you fail in the duties expected of you.”

His threat made, Kamran’s tone returned to normal.

“Make the Great Lord proud, my friend.

Earn your honor as he did; be the exemplar of humanity that shows them how a man frees himself from the rule of beasts and monsters!”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Triton’s throat tightened, but to his Lord, he could only give one answer.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good.

Now go, and raze this aerie to the ground.”

The tree branches curled back into their neutral position as the leaves returned to their neutral golden color, and the sparkling runes in the tree trunk lost much of their luster.

Triton exhaled, Kamran’s words ringing in his ears.

‘Make the Great Lord proud,’ he silently hissed to himself.

‘If he is out there, as many believe…

Then greet his return proudly, and with your honor intact.

Be the man he expects you to be…’

He rose from where he had knelt, resolve solidifying in his heart.

With Kamran’s rune, he’d cut through the enemy’s defenses and ravage their city.

Antipatra may have the honor of snuffing out the bloodline of the Thunderbird itself, but it would be Triton who would crush the feathered tyrant’s last legacy…

---

The defenders of the storm wall surrounding the city did not feel much difference on this day as compared to any other during this war.

They were on alert, ready to repel the enemy’s probing attacks, holding the line until their King returned and swept the enemy from the field of battle, as he’d always done.

But this day was different.

To the east, Triton’s forces gathered, and the man himself took to the field, though few on the ground could see him.

He was one tiny dot amidst the great arks he’d invaded their territory with, and he drew no attention even as the Thunderbird fleet reacted swiftly to this force accumulation.

They knew he was about to make a push, but they didn’t quite know what they were in for…

A bright light flashed as Triton inscribed a rune in the air.

The mountains, shrouded in fog and crowned by storm clouds, shuddered.

A corridor was cut through the storms a mile wide, revealing defensive positions and the arks cutting through.

And beyond lay the glittering city, concentrated in the eastern half of the Artor Valley, directly in the path of the enemy.

The immediate weapons fire was intense, and Leon’s arks were caught by surprise.

They came out the worse in the initial bombardment, and positions amidst the mountains were destroyed.

Weapon emplacement, ward maintenance towers, and the wall that encircled the Artor Valley were damaged or destroyed, and the corridor was strengthened by the weakening of the wards pressing against it.

Triton’s arks surged into the corridor, beam-like jets of steam cut other arks in half, while a thousand bolts of lightning rained down upon them from defensive towers and other arks.

More lightning glittered in the surrounding storm clouds, and multiple arcs jumped from the tip of the mountain in the center of the valley to the invaders.

Triton himself led the way, feeling the heat of arks exploding both before and behind him.

But he was clad in Adamant, and energized by battle and the thrill of fulfilling Khosrow’s will.

With his power, he conjured ten thousand flying sharks and whales, their forms condensing from both his origin power and the ample water in the air from the fog, rain, and storm clouds.

These monsters, given autonomy by origin power, surged ahead, ravaging arks and static defenses alike.

The enemy did not remain idle, and greater assets were called to plug this gap.

Triton even felt many auras of powerful mages blaze in defiance, though only one truly concerned him—its owner, the dark-haired and golden-eyed Princess of the Great Black Dragon Clan, charged into the fray with wild abandon, announcing her arrival with a storm of black fire.

Though conjured by a thirteenth-tier mage, Triton’s water constructs evaporated instantly in the face of the twelfth-tier Serana’s Doomfire.

Triton knew that this was his greatest challenge; if she fell, then there would be no one in Leon Raime’s city capable of combating him.

But as he’d seen Leon Raime himself demonstrate during the Belicenian Games, it was not always guaranteed that the higher-tiered mage won head-to-head clashes.

With a song glorifying Khosrow’s greatest triumphs thumping in his chest and echoing in his ears, Triton charged the dragon, his blue-colored Adamant sparkling in the light of endless lightning strikes, a spear with a blade of black ice appearing in his hand.

When he thrust it forth, a cloud of black snow advanced before him, the horrifying power of the spear forged by a Universe Fragment ravaging anything caught within it.

Fire and ice met before the two combatants did as the dragon wheeled around to face him.

Her Doomfire had cut through everything before, but even Doomfire had its limits.

Triton cut through her abyssal flames, his armor heating up uncomfortably even with only the swiftest contact, and drove his spear into his enemy.

The dragon reeled in shock, her Adamant armor barely turning his strike into a glancing blow.

Triton kept his guard up, and this spear, forged for his own hand by Anax Selachi, proved its might once again as the dragon lashed out with a tongue of flame, seeking to cut the haft in half.

This desperate move failed, and Triton thrust again.

Serana gave ground, his spear scratching the surface of her armor, but no more.

Triton allowed her to gain some distance and swept his spear before him, using his origin power to conjure a hellish cloud of black ice around them.

The cloud constricted, roiling and churning around Serana, seeking any gap in her armor.

She defended herself with black fire, and wings, claws, and a spiked tail, all made of black fire, raked through the cloud, disrupting the magic that sustained the cloud.

When Triton laid eyes upon her again, her helmet was gone, showing that her eyes had darkened slightly and her formerly clean face had sprouted several black scales around her temples.

Showing the universe that, despite her human shape, she was still an animal, she attacked him with bestial violence, claws of black fire erupting from her fingers.

Triton met her with human discipline and tenacity, his spear meeting her Doomfire and showing off the bestowed strength of the Universe Fragment that had forged it.

Vapor, black as death itself, exploded around them, and anyone watching lost track of the combatants within.

The air in this corridor only became increasingly choked with arks and power as seconds dragged into minutes, and without Triton, his arks’ advance slowed to a crawl.

Lightning struck them from a thousand different places, but none were more deadly than the arcs that originated from Westmount.

More powerful mages plugged the gap in the Thunderbird defenses, and almost every post-Apotheosis mage summoned their powers to hold the line.

The Jaguar and Iron-Striker were the most prominent after Serana, leading from the front and holding nothing back.

Iron-Striker fought with immense strength, slamming into the enemy arks and tearing into them with bare hands—and then with bear hands as fur sprouted from his body and he took the form of the Booming Brown Bear.

He struck like thunder, and when one of Triton’s Strategoi attempted to stop his rampage, he ignored the gashes torn into his thick, furred body and ripped the Strategoi apart with fang and claw.

The Jaguar remained in his human form, but was no less savage.

His body protected by Adamant forged by his King, he struck any enemy he could see with the blood-red lightning of his Ancestor.

He kept his head cool and monitored the situation closely.

He watched his sub-commanders maneuvering expertly to keep the enemy contained in the corridor; he watched over the powerful and influential mages defending this breach, including Iron-Striker’s mad charge, the rampage Alcander was leading with the Tempest Knights, and even Nyra’s attempts to help, though her escorts were keeping her from plunging into the heart of the battle.

Most of all, he watched Serana’s duel—at least, as much as he could.

And so, he was the first to see the black cloud begin to dissipate in the worst way: the black fire that partially made up the cloud lessened, and he saw a shadow within that looked too much like Triton driving his spear into Serana’s armor, and Serana herself throwing her head back in a pained howl that couldn’t be heard over the cacophony of the battle.

The Jaguar didn’t spend a moment thinking; he just charged.

Iron-Striker demonstrated that he’d been keeping an eye on the duel, too, and joined the Jaguar’s move to support the mother of their King.

The red lightning of the Blood-Thunder Jaguar flashed, and in its light, Iron-Striker struck.

The Jaguar’s lightning broke across Triton’s face, and with the sound of crashing thunder, Iron-Striker plunged into the black cloud and sank his fangs and claws into the man’s armor.

The cloud further dissipated, revealing that the Basileus’ black spear had penetrated Serana’s Adamant, and though it wasn’t by much, Serana was still reeling.

The spear was torn from her armor as the force of Iron-Striker’s impact on Triton pulled the two combatants apart.

The Jaguar pushed on, catching the woman as she fell, her aura flickering, her eyes swiveling chaotically in their sockets.

He heard Iron-Striker roar in pain as he spun, hurling Serana a moment later across the sky.

Someone would catch her, and that faith was immediately rewarded when one of Nyra’s escorts darted out to do just that.

Turning back to the duel, the Jaguar’s blood ran hot as he realized why Iron-Striker had roared in pain: Triton was holding him off with one arm, and had impaled his black spear into Iron-Striker’s hide with the other arm.

But Iron-Striker’s bear form was massive, and he still struck Triton again and again, but each time, the accompanying thunderclap softened.

Behind the Jaguar, he sensed Nestor making a move.

A rune was carved in the air, and the corridor began to close.

Triton’s arks started pulling back, passing over hundreds of their fallen whale-like sisters.

The defending arks pushed, invigorated by the enemy’s retreat and the tightening of the storm wall, but they, too, pushed over the burning hulks and blasted remains of their fallen brothers and sisters.

But the Jaguar didn’t push with them.

Instead, he shot to Iron-Striker’s aid, his red lightning flashing around him as he attacked a mage far beyond his caliber.

Triton turned to meet his charge, tossing the heavily injured Iron-Striker away.

Just before they met, the clouds of the storm wall slammed shut the corridor, and they were lost in their dark depths.

Lightning continued to rain down within the storm cloud, continuing to push Triton’s arks away.

Triton himself emerged minutes later looking much the worse for wear, much of that lightning having fallen upon him.

Neither Iron-Striker nor the Jaguar did the same, their bodies swallowed by the black clouds of the storm wall…