The Storm King

Cold intention filled his body as he woke up, contrasting sharply with the warm bodies on either side of him. Maia on his right, Valeria on his left, reassuring by their presence alone. They had shared a night together, though they hadn’t done much more than sleep and talk, enjoying the last night of peace and quiet they’d likely get for a while. Dread about what they would find in the Nexus after two months without contact weighed on their minds, keeping them from doing much more than that.

And now the night was over. As Leon opened his eyes, he found that he hadn’t been the first to stir; Valeria was idly running her hand over his chest, her eyes unfocused, her beauty marred by a shallow frown. She turned her eyes upward when he lightly stroked her spine, her lips immediately tilting upward as Leon felt goosebumps rise all over her body.

Leon planted a kiss on her forehead, not wanting to move just yet to get any lower. Valeria, however, was more awake than he was and thought little of pushing herself up to her knees, letting the sheets fall from her body, and leaning down to press her lips against his.

It was a tender moment, unhurried and comforting. When she pulled back, their gaze lingered on each other, and Leon quietly asked, “Ready?”

She took a deep breath, and as her lips straightened with determination, she replied, “Yes.”

On Leon’s other side, Maia finally roused and announced her return to wakefulness by pinching his side.

“Loud…” she whispered, and Leon almost laughed. Two words, whispered in the dark of their bedroom, and she still complained of the volume. He just held her closer, and she nuzzled into his embrace, more than happy to take up the room that Valeria had vacated by curling more over him.

The moment came to an end as Valeria slid out of bed. “It’s almost time,” she whispered, much to Maia’s consternation. “I need to get back to Silent Hail.”

Leon wanted to argue, to get her to stay for longer, but he knew that she was right. Valeria was the leader of Task Force Nikolaos and would serve as one of his highest-ranking subordinate commanders in retaking his Nexus holdings.

In the days since Leon’s fleet rallied with the four other Task Forces, more details had been settled on by the rest of the fleet. There were concerns about command, given that three of his Paladins and one of his wives were the leaders of the Task Forces, and theoretically outranked Anshu despite Anshu being the Fleet Admiral. Leon had resolved those concerns by temporarily placing his three Paladins under Anshu’s command for only this battle, while taking Task Force Nikolaos as his personal escort, outside of Anshu’s command. If he were to separate from the rest of the fleet, Nikolaos, led by Valeria, could accompany him, while Anshu and the three Paladin-fleet commanders would stick together.

It was an emergency dynamic that Leon didn’t want to make a habit of. His Paladins were supposed to answer only to him, and he didn’t want to set precedents that other ministers and military officers could tell them what to do. But the times being what they were, someone had to take command, and realistically, Anshu was the best option given his long years serving as Leon’s Fleet Admiral.

There might be some friction, but Leon would deal with that when and if it arose. For the moment, he was confident his people would remain professional and get the job done.

To Maia’s additional frustration, Leon followed Valeria out of bed, though doing so involved disentangling his limbs from hers. He almost thought Maia might fight to keep him there for longer, but she reluctantly let him go, and even more reluctantly, followed them in properly joining the ranks of the awake.

Valeria didn’t stay long, washing and dressing quickly, and sparing only the seconds she needed to embrace Leon once more before taking her leave. Leon and Maia didn’t stay long, either, heading up to the observation deck just after Valeria left.

The deck was a hub of activity once they arrived. Leon’s other Paladins had accompanied him to the deck, but Red had been there a while, lounging by a window. The dozens of other officers present were monitoring communications between the various fleets, finalizing jump plans, and making sure that if Leon asked for any information, then that information was at hand.

When he arrived, Leon ignored most of them and took up a position near the front of the deck, where he could look out into the Void through the projected windows and watch his thousands of arks maneuver through the black like massive schools of fish swimming through the ocean. Along with them, he spied the garrison fleet that guarded the Demetrion cluster, a collection of about two hundred arks keeping the cluster stable and peaceful. The commander of the local garrison had offered his forces to Leon, but Leon considered the garrison fleet too small to make enough of a difference to deprive the cluster of its peacekeeping force.

But here and now, he could still see all of those arks together. Having personal power was one thing, but seeing so much conventional power—insomuch as arks and millions of men and women were ‘conventional’—drove home like nothing else just how far he had come since leaving the Forest of Black and White so long ago.

As the minutes ticked by, he found his mind drifting to other matters. Fear and dread of what would greet him upon reaching the Nexus were predominant in his thoughts, but he was able to distract himself by planning the repairs he’d need to make to his armor when he had the chance. The massive hole in his helmet, created by the Eye of Calamity, hadn’t been fixed, and after examining it more closely, Leon didn’t think it was going to be all that salvageable. And if he needed a new helmet, then there were other things he might do to his armor, ideas that had been circulating through his head for a long while.

‘Spatial enchantments, certainly,’ he thought, anticipation building until it was crushed by the weight of what was about to happen. He gritted his teeth and tried to force himself into brighter thoughts, but one of his adjutants called out to him at that moment.

“Your Majesty! We’re receiving final reports now! Fleet Admiral Anshu reports that we’ll be ready to jump in ten minutes!”

“Tell him to jump the moment we’re ready!” Leon responded, not wanting to waste a single second. As much as he dreaded finding out the state of his home, he needed to get back. Dithering wouldn’t do anyone any good.

The atmosphere changed with his order; they were about to launch into battle, and that demanded that everyone be ready. Leon himself, along with Maia, Red, and his Paladins, prepared for more personal battles. Leon wasn’t going to sit on the observation deck without joining the fray, watching from safety and comfort as the men and women who’d entrusted their lives to him fight and bleed and die.

He rolled his shoulders, slowly stretched his legs and neck, and then donned his armor, sans broken helmet. Iron Pride appeared at his hip, practically vibrating with power, as if the weapon—or the Universe Fragment within—could feel and understand that it was about to be used.

And then he waited. Those final few minutes were some of the longest of his life, but soon enough, magic coursed through the ark, causing space to warp and dark light to shine. Leon felt it in the core of his being, this breaking of space that would carry him home. He reveled in the small part he’d played in making the Nestorian jump drives that enabled such travel—even if his role in the creation of the Leonine Drives, which Storm Herald and the other three ancient arks had, was nonexistent, despite being named after him.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He felt Storm Herald’s engines flutter and thrum, and the enormous bulk of the ark pushed forward. It plunged prow-first into the blue-ringed black hole generated by its Leonine Drive, and moments later, practically exploded back into reality countless millions of miles away. The rest of the fleet emerged over the following seconds, glittering in the black Void like his own private constellation. They appeared in perfect formation, with his seven thousand or so war arks in front, two thousand transports behind. His mobile ark yards were left at Demetrion to keep those critical assets safe.

The Nexus shone far ahead, turning from a bright star before the jump into a sun that took up the majority of the deck’s outside projection. Despite the enormity of the celestial body, they were still at a significant remove from it. Such distance was necessary to properly prepare for the coming battle, just in case their scouts had been detected without them knowing about it.

As things were, the situation was just as the scouts described: the defenses around the Void-side of the portal were relatively light, with only about three hundred arks of various sizes patrolling around it. But instead of focusing on those arks, Leon found his gaze drawn by the remains of the Void fortresses he’d had built to protect this side of the portal, and the highly-visible debris of the arks that were also defending the portal. Though the defenses were small compared to those on the Nexus-side, more than ten thousand of his warriors had been stationed within those arks and Void fortresses.

Now, they were all dead, their lives taken by Triton’s reprehensible army. No quarter had been given; all of Leon’s warriors stationed there had been slaughtered. There was some debris showing that they’d given their attackers a shiny black eye, but that was small comfort in the face of their sacrifice.

Seeing the relatively light defenses that Triton established, the fleet pushed forward with all haste, spreading further out into the Void to maximize their vast numerical superiority. Leon watched dispassionately as they drew inexorably closer.

Triton’s arks halted their patrols and began to form up in front of the portal. Leon could almost physically hear them sending frantic messages to the other side, screaming warnings about his appearance.

[They scurry like rats,] Maia whispered, her killing intent palpable, and only growing more intense the closer they drew.

[They are not rats, but men,] Leon responded bitterly. [And that makes their actions all the worse. They are in full control of their actions. They chose this war.] He paused, scoffing softly. [But their end will be the same as any rat I find in my house…]

He felt more than saw Maia smile, and with a blooming grin of his own, they started making their way down to the hangar. Red and his Paladins joined them, along with a host of Tempest Knights. They found another group there waiting, largely consisting of more Tempest Knights. All were either giants or warriors in Ulta suits. All would join him in the Void, and if that battle went well, they would follow him into the Nexus.

As they drew closer, however, Leon’s comm slate pulsed. When he answered it, he found Anshu staring back at him.

“What is it?” Leon asked.

“They’re retreating through the portal,” Anshu replied. “They want to hit as we pass through that chokepoint rather than stand and fight here.”

“Smart,” Leon assessed. “So be it. We’ll hunt them down wherever they flee to.”

He would’ve ended the exchange there, but Anshu then said something that gave him some pause.

“It will take us at least twenty minutes to close with the portal. But we should be within comm lotus range. I have Comms trying to establish a connection with anyone on the other side. You might have some success in connecting with someone in Artorion.”

A lump formed in Leon’s throat, which he quickly swallowed away. “Good work,” he croaked.

Anshu bowed, and the comm slate’s projection died. Leon still held the slate, the device suddenly feeling about a thousand times heavier than it was in truth. His fingers slowly drifted across the slate’s glassy surface, activating the glowing runes in the first order he’d ever memorized.

The slate pulsed, feeding off of his power. He fed it more, just to be sure. He held his breath, waiting, hoping, and waiting some more…

Then the slate’s chime sounded, and the slate’s projector activated. The first thing he saw were red and green eyes, and then the faces of his two other wives, Cassandra and Elise, looking somewhat harried, but no less beautiful for it.

“Leon…?” Elise whispered, which was followed by several seconds of incoherent blubbering as she tried to say… something.

Fortunately, Cassandra was a little more in control of herself.

“Leon,” she said, a shallow smile breaking through to illuminate her face. “Our day is made immeasurably better seeing you.”

“As is mine,” Leon said as Maia shoved her face into the projection. “Valeria is fine, but on another ark. We’re close, about to head back into the Nexus. Tell me: how is the situation in Artorion?”

The more he spoke, the more Cassandra and Elise seemed to relax, but once he asked after them, the tension returned.

“We’ve had significant difficulties,” Cassandra admitted.

“The enemy has broken through our defenses multiple times,” Elise added. “We’ve fought them off every time, and Nestor has reactivated the emergency shield to keep them out… but we’ve taken losses.” Her voice hitched, and Cassandra continued from there.

“Millions are dead, Leon. And… we’ve lost the Jaguar and Iron-Striker…”

Leon’s heart plummeted to his feet. He could hardly believe his ears; he’d hardly even entertained the idea of continuing his reign without those two by his side.

“A-Are you… sure…?” he asked, the crack in his voice impossible to hide.

Cassandra and Elise exchanged a look, and whatever they silently communicated to each other, Leon was sure that it wasn’t good. In fact, he was sure it was catastrophically awful.

“As sure as we can be,” Cassandra said. “But… that’s not all…”

Leon’s heart, which had barely started rising back to its normal position, seized, cold dread settling within even more powerfully than before.

“Leon,” Elise whispered, “your mother… fought Triton… and lost…”

Lost.

The word hit Leon’s ears with the force of a thousand thunderclaps. Its echoes were all he heard for what seemed like a million years.

Lost.

His fingers twitched, and the comm slate broke in half. The projection died, leaving his wives no doubt worried and confused.

Lost.

His vision darkened. He blinked, and the remains of the comm slate had turned to dust.

Lost.

He blinked again and found himself outside Storm Herald. The portal into the Nexus was right ahead of him. He hurtled toward it, terrible wrath boiling within his chest, demanding to be let free.

Lightning heralded his way, but rather than silver-blue, these bolts were black as death itself. A hundred Thunderbirds made of this black lightning manifested around him, and with them by his side, he plunged into the portal…

---

A scowl had graced Triton’s face for so long that it was in danger of becoming permanent. His arks were yet outside of the valley that the cowardly slaves of the Thunderbird Clan had holed up in. The storm wall struggled to keep them out now that Triton had Kamran’s rune, but crossing it was still a challenge with the bolts raining down on them from the central mountain. Making matters even more complicated was the golden dome that had sprung into being around the valley after the beast-fuckers barely managed to fight him off the third time he penetrated their misty veil.

It was truly aggravating. Every time he used Kamran’s rune, someone else used another rune to fight back. He was able to make one brief push all three times, but aside from inflicting casualties, he hadn’t been able to truly force his way into the valley yet.

The settlements outside of the valley bore the brunt of his wrath. With the golden dome in place, it locked many of the more dynamic defenders behind the mountains, which gave him much greater flexibility in hunting down everyone outside of the mountains. The settlements to the south were still giving him trouble, and the various people who lived in the eastern plains were hiding like rats, but he was still making far greater progress now than he had been just two weeks ago.

If they wanted to continue hiding, then he’d slaughter everyone else first, and they could watch, impotent, unable to do anything but wait for their turn.

Of course, he didn’t have all the time in the world; his ruse distracting the Ocean King and his meddlesome brats wouldn’t last forever, and he was sure that one of his lesser favorite spawn was already racing to the Ocean King’s farthest-flung holding to inform the great King about what he was doing. But he was sure that he’d—

The sky darkened ominously; so unnatural was it that it dragged him from his frustrated musings. A boom of thunder rippled across the land, and when he looked to the north, he saw that the fleet elements that he’d stationed beyond the local portal had come back into the Nexus. He barely had time to wonder why before he was given the answer.

A lone figure came tearing through the portal, surrounded by dreadful black lightning. Light seemed to bend around every bolt, and when Triton stared too long, he almost saw the face of death itself within every bolt. His hair stood on end as a shiver ran down his spine.

And then he heard the figure roar so loudly that he could almost feel his bones rattle even though he was deep in his most heavily defended ark.

“TRITON!”

His vision seemed to shrink to the size of a pinhead as he realized what this was.

Leon Raime had returned. And the fleet that Antipatra had lured out was undoubtedly close behind…