After his short talk with Nestor, Leon wandered the forest in his soul realm for a long time. He opened himself up to the sounds of nature, but since it was his soul realm, it was unnaturally quiet. Still, Leon reveled in that silence, feeling clear-headed for the first time in weeks. It had taken quite a bit of thinking and moralizing that even he found a little bit strange, but he felt like he was about ready to start coming to his own conclusions about who he was, how he related to his Clan, and how he wanted to proceed.
As it so happened, he found himself quite close to the tomb he’d built for the giants, so he easily stepped into the air and a moment later, alighted upon a small cliff close enough to the tomb even a mortal could’ve hit it with a rock.
It was a solemn place tucked away in a remote part of the mountains; not too far away for it to ever be hidden or for Leon to put it out of mind, but far enough away to not be disturbed by anything that might happen in Leon’s Mind Palace.
With a sigh, Leon sat down cross-legged on the cliff, propped his elbows up on his knees, and rested his chin in his hands. He stared out the Vale of his soul realm for a while, his eyes occasionally wandering over in the direction of the tomb.
The giants had followed him out of loyalty to the Thunderbird Clan. Leon had never done a thing to earn their trust, they were simply acting upon old instincts instilled in their created Ancestors. Leon had thought their unconditional aid to be a great boon, but now he was rethinking that mindset. He couldn’t very well hold himself to be better than Nestor if he also went and took advantage of the giants’ ingrained servile attitude towards his blood…
… But he also acknowledged that if he continued to maintain that they were sentient, then they could make their own decisions. Nestor had shot down the idea that they were completely sentient the moment Leon brought it up, and in a way, Leon supposed he did the same, taking their support for granted.
Leon sighed again. He thought that maybe he was taking things a little too far—he supposed if he built golems and never intended for them to achieve sentience, then he might be a little skeptical if someone came to him claiming that they were fully sapient beings.
He groaned in frustration as he wished that he could just wipe the slate clean, erasing all evidence of the Thunderbird Clan from existence. At least that way he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit anymore.
Though, now that he’d thought about it, he supposed the solution that he felt would work for him was deceptively easy.
As Leon continued to stare alternatively out at his soul realm and back at the tomb, he felt more than heard the Thunderbird’s massive avian frame landing upon the cliff nearby, but he didn’t bother to get up or to try and make himself more presentable. If he did, it would go against what he was about to say to her.
He heard the Thunderbird approaching in her human form, her nearly form-fitting white robes gently blowing in the wind, her brown and gold hair pulled back into a loose braid, her yellow avian eyes relaxed and regarding Leon with curiosity and some slight worry.
If the Thunderbird knew what was in his head, she didn’t let on. She waited a moment, seemingly for Leon to greet her or make the first move, and when he didn’t, she asked in a calm and motherly voice that carried with it none of the same derision or subtle scorn that Nestor had displayed when he asked the exact same question, “Are you all right, Leon?”
“Thinking,” he responded, offering no more explanation than that, his head still resolutely pointed away from the Thunderbird even as she slowly moved forward and stood next to him on the cliff just out of reach.
“What about?” she asked when it became clear that he wasn’t going to elaborate.
“Thinking that I might’ve been overthinking these past few days,” he replied, and again didn’t offer much in the way of clarification. Of course, he also had little idea how to articulate what had filled his head these past few weeks, all of it was too confusing and too circular—it all looped back in on itself and prevented him from finding a good place to even start.
The Thunderbird didn’t ask again, but she didn’t have to, her piercing gaze demanded he continue.
Finally, after what seemed like long, awkward minutes of silence, Leon simply said, “Legacy.”
“Whose?” the Thunderbird asked, her tone light and inquisitive as if she were asking him what he had for breakfast.
“Yours,” he said. “Mine. My family’s. The Clan’s. How much of it I want, or even can carry forward.”
“A heavy topic. What brought this on?”
“This, right now, specifically? An enemy I’d thought dealt with has escaped justice. I’m… conflicted as to how to handle it, or if any of it is even my business anymore. What it would mean if I were to pursue this to the bitter end; for me, for the future of my family, all of it. I suppose in a broader sense, though, this detritus has been muddling my head since Nestor jumped in here, and all that happened with him. I suppose you could also say that it’s insecurity; an acknowledgment that I’ve done nothing worth being proud of, my advances have been made due to the Clan’s lingering influence, and that at the end of the day, Nestor was right: I’m not worthy to be your heir.”
“That’s quite a bit to be thinking about, no wonder you’re all the way up here looking like you’ve been dragged through the gutter.”
Leon grimaced, though when he glanced down at himself, he had to admit that he didn’t look all that great. He hadn’t been too careful with how he’d wandered the forest and was covered in dirt, though given that it was his soul realm and magic body, all it took were a few brief thoughts to clean himself up.
“If you need to talk, then talk,” the Thunderbird said. “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say without judgment.”
“I can talk, sure,” Leon said as he stood up and finally turned to face his Ancestor. “But I think I’ve done enough thinking for a while, for I’ve reached my conclusion—at least, for now, until I reach the Nexus and get the lay of the land there. It’s something that’s been building for a while as I’ve tried to reconcile much of what I’ve learned recently as well as some mounting insecurities with who I see myself as and who I want to be. And with what I feel like I need to do.”
“Do share,” the Thunderbird said as she faced Leon, at least seeming to treat this exchange with all the seriousness it demanded.
Leon took a deep breath to steady himself, then jumped right in.
“Several times you’ve advocated that I kill my enemies without thought. Xaphan and Nestor, too, have recommended that I do such a thing. However, there’s a fine line there between killing my enemies and killing those who merely inconvenience me.
“From what I’ve learned today, and what I’ve been starting to suspect for some time, the old Clan didn’t understand that distinction. It led them to commit great atrocities and abuse their power in horrific ways. I don’t want to bear that legacy. Justin Isynos told me that no one misses the Clan in the Nexus, and to be honest, I can believe it.
“Now, don’t mistake my words—I’ll kill anyone if I have to. But I don’t enjoy killing. My enemies won’t receive mercy, and I might enjoy the sheer act of testing my limits against them, or I might take some pleasure in seeing specific people dead, but I don’t enjoy the act of killing itself.
“I suppose I’m hardly in a position to be judgmental, though. After all, I’m only some twenty-year-old shithead barbarian from the ass-end of this plane. How could I compare to a being like Xaphan, who’s lived and been in power for millennia? Or someone like Nestor, who might be even older? Or you, a being so old and venerable that I can’t even comprehend the depths of your experience. That you all advocate for the same actions and push me toward my more ruthless tendencies tells me that there’s wisdom there, that it’s not an inherently bad strategy.
“Still, I don’t like it. I need no reason; mindlessly killing anyone and anything in my way is not the way I want to handle my business. Yet I also acknowledge perhaps the most important truth that my father taught me living in the Forest of Black and White: killing and death is simply a part of life, and the struggle for power is eternal. I can’t blame anyone for getting into conflict over power because, in the end, power is the exact same thing that I want.
“My goals haven’t changed, though. If anything, I want to accomplish them even more. On the one hand, I want to throw away everything that your Clan left behind in order to prove myself, but on the other, I want to prove that I’m every bit as capable an heir as you could possibly choose and show that I’ve earned my place. You chose me over Nestor, and because I agree with Nestor that he’s probably the better choice, I need to prove that I deserve your trust.
“So, I will hunt down Octavius and bring him back to the Bull Kingdom either kicking and screaming or in a tiny box, and then I will move on to the Central Empires. Once there, I will look to build up a network of support while I investigate the remnants of the Clan left behind on this plane.”
With a snap of his fingers, Leon summoned the platinum card of Demetrius, the progenitor of his House, and held it up for the Thunderbird to see.
“With this, and with that network of support, I’ll seize control of Heaven’s Eye, and make their resources my own. From there, I’ll move on to the Nexus and press my claim to the title of Storm King. Sometime in there, I’ll find Kamran and make him pay in blood for the deaths of my family. But only for my family. As far as I can tell, the death of the Thunderbird Clan was undoubtedly justified in many ways.”
Leon couldn’t get any more detailed than that, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t know what the situation was like in the Central Empires, let alone the Nexus, so how could his plans be any more specific?
“I’ll finish this by saying that I’m going to choose not to judge you or the ancient Clan anymore. I wasn’t there when the decisions were made, and those who made whatever decisions and carried them out are long dead, as are the lion’s share of their victims. But I will say that I will do things as I please. I’ll happily ask for and accept your advice, but I will not go against my own beliefs. When I sit on the throne of my Ancestors, the throne of your descendants, I want to be able to look at myself and honestly say that I’ve done my father and Trajan proud. If the Clan’s history comes up, I’ll deal with it by proving that I’m not them, but other than that, I’ll leave the past in the past.”
Throughout Leon’s speech, the Thunderbird remained quiet, a pensive look on her face. She didn’t try to interrupt, and when she did, it was only after Leon specifically paused to give her some time to share her thoughts regarding what he was saying.
“That’s quite naïve, boy,” she said, though her tone wasn’t judgmental. “As you said, your father and your mentor are both dead. That would seem to point directly to the flaw in that way of thinking. Your enemies will not hesitate to kill you, you must respond in kind or else they will eventually win. No one reaches the level Kamran has without being ruthless and more than willing to capitalize on every opportunity that presents itself. When dealing with a man like this, you can’t leave him any openings.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Leon interjected, “and I’m sure that you and many others want me to be nothing more than a mindless killing machine, someone who slaughters without thought everyone that presents even a mild irritation. That’s not who I want to be. Were I not the only heir of your power, I think I would be more than happy to be left alone to study the runic arts and to build my family.
“But I am your only heir, and the ideas that you have helped to plant in my head about reclaiming lost glories, and the glories that I have already born witness to… I can’t just be what I think my natural inclination pushes me towards. I will see and experience the wonders and glories that you have conditioned me to expect. If my luck holds out and my skill proves itself, then I’ll even make some of those wonders and glories myself.
“Mark my words, Thunderbird: The next Storm King that rules over all of lightning shall be me. No matter what the Nexus might think about my heritage, I will claim that title for myself, and if they choose to reject me, then I will simply tear down Khosrow’s Law and build something else in its place.”
Leon straightened himself up and stared the Thunderbird directly in the eye, not blinking or showing any sign of hesitancy or weakness.
“Keep pragmatism in mind,” the Thunderbird cautioned, though there wasn’t a trace of disappointment or reproach in her tone. “I’m glad that you’re thinking like this, though. It might be a bit too soft, but I’ll reserve judgment until I see how you conduct yourself going forward. If I think you’re needlessly endangering yourself, then I won’t hesitate to let you know. But I will say that when I originally built my Clan, I was hardly the slaving despot that you seem to hate so much. I made alliances, I found love, I even forgave some of my enemies.”
“That’s all I can ask for,” Leon replied as he glanced back out over the forest in his soul realm. “Make no mistake, though, if I feel that I must, I will kill those who threaten me without hesitation. That said, no matter what, the previous Thunderbird Clan is dead, and dead it will stay.”
“I suppose that’s all I can ask for, isn’t it?” the Thunderbird replied. “Your words don’t instill a great deal of confidence in me, but I can at least take some solace in the fact that you’re starting to put more thought into your future steps. Now, I remember you stating back in the archives of your House that you don’t plan on taking anything from the old Clan. Now that you’ve worked yourself through some of these thoughts, has that changed?”
Leon nodded. “Eh, not really. As I said, though, I’ll do what I want and what feels right. Blind murder doesn’t feel right, and neither does taking everything that isn’t nailed down in any Thunderbird Clan facilities I might come across. I’ll take what I feel right about taking, like this card. I found it, I unlocked the door that sealed it away. I feel like I earned it. But still, you started our ancient Clan from scratch, and I’m hoping to do the same.”
“You aren’t working from scratch, you have myself, Nestor, and much of what the Clan left behind, including an entire library’s worth of books and enough golems to maintain them…”
“You also had two Universe Fragments—look, it’s not a perfect sentiment, but we all stand upon the shoulders of those who came before. It wouldn’t matter if I found those books in a library in the Bull Kingdom or in the Central Empires or in those archives, and I will use that knowledge as I see fit. If I wanted to truly start from scratch, I’d have had to have been born at the inception of the universe, when there were no legacies to bear and everything was pure and new and undiscovered. It’s the more material bequeathments of the old Clan that I’m more concerned about. Weapons, dangerous artifacts, any more prisons of horror, that sort of thing.”
“You also have material things here that you’ve inherited,” the Thunderbird replied. “You are my last real descendant, so while I approve of these sentiments—a truly powerful mage would stand upon their own merits, no matter how they acquired their power—I would also know how far you plan to take this mindset. My sword?”
“Hard to say,” Leon replied. “It was the blade of House Raime for thousands of years following the downfall of the Clan. Is that enough to cleanse the blade of the stench that its wielders in the latter days of the Clan infected it with? I can’t say. Of all the things I have, though, to lay that blade down would hurt. So I guess it isn’t hard to say, then. I won’t abandon it… at least unless I can make something better.”
“I can imagine,” the Thunderbird said with amusement. “You took a power crystal from Nestor’s lab, did you not? How about that?”
Leon frowned and shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe I’ll give it to Emilie. Maybe I’ll give it to Elise as a wedding present. Shit, maybe I’ll just throw it into the sea the first chance I get with an explosion spell strapped to it. I won’t use it. I’d rather build my own wonders and relying upon old wonder would only tarnish my creations.”
The Thunderbird’s mouth began to stretch upward into a smile. She took a few steps forward and laid one of her hands on Leon’s shoulder, saying, “I hope that you stick to that conviction. I won’t abandon you if you find something left behind by Jason Keraunos that you simply can’t live without, but I hope that you never forget this decision. It might take longer to reach the level you must, but you’ll be stronger for it.
“And don’t forget the Universe Fragments! You needn’t worry about what it says about you in claiming them for yourself, they’ll never bow to anyone unworthy. But they cannot be destroyed, nor be allowed to fall into anyone else’s hands!”
“I understand,” Leon said. “The Storm Diamond’s part of the Storm King’s crown, which is locked in the Clan’s old vault, I think, and then there’s the Iron Needle, I don’t have the faintest clue where to look to find that thing.”
“I might…” the Thunderbird replied with a look of intrigue on her face. “I detected a few faint wisps of power that felt a lot like the Iron Needle as we passed by that canyon in your home Vale.”
Leon blinked in surprise, his thoughts turning to the Divine Scar. “Wait… what?! Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve tried to go and get it!”
“You could’ve, but I doubt you’d have survived the trek down there. Do yourself a favor and don’t even try to venture into that canyon before you reach the ninth-tier. If I’m not mistaken and the Iron Needle is down there, you don’t have to worry about it going anywhere. No one will take it, it will wait for someone worthy to find it. And none will, until you go down there to get it.”
Leon clenched his jaw so tightly that he started grinding his teeth. He supposed he was grateful that the Thunderbird hadn’t told him that when he was still in the Vale; he already had far too much on his mind to add that to the mix, as well. But as he forced himself to relax, he thought about the Divine Scar and how long it might take him to reach the ninth-tier. Years, probably, and who knew how many. He needed to devote more time to brushing up on his enchanting expertise, too.
There was a lot he needed to keep in mind, but he knew that sooner or later, he’d be heading down into that canyon. It wasn’t an idle curiosity anymore. The thoughts he’d been having recently, constantly comparing himself to the Thunderbird Clan of old, the words that Nestor had told him right before he briefly stole Leon’s body, had all lit a fire of ambition within Leon that he hadn’t felt in… well, he couldn’t say. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt something like it before. Now the key was just to follow through on that feeling.
And right now, he had the perfect accompaniment to that motivation—namely, Octavius and the need to bring him back to the Bull Kingdom. He had to prepare for that, so as his conversation with the Thunderbird died down and she transformed back into her avian form and vanished into the mists, Leon took off from the cliff and made his way back to his Mind Palace.
He’d said his piece to the Thunderbird, and while he wasn’t so sure about how well he got across his intent, she seemed to approve of his mindset. He would never be Leon, heir of the Thunderbird Clan, and neither did he want to continue to be Leon Ursus, the barbarian from the savage Northern Vales. He was ready to reclaim his true name, and to wear it proudly for the rest of his days.
He was ready to start being Leon Raime.
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