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958 - Iron Pride III

“It’s so pretty,” Cassandra said in awe as Leon held his new blade up for everyone to see.  Of course, it didn’t yet have the guard or handle being not even half a day old, but it was still quite the sight.  It was now hovering over a table in one of the new palace’s more opulent and private lounges, held aloft by Leon’s magic so that his family could see what he’d wrought.

The ripples in the blade made it look almost liquid in the light, and with the aura of the enchantments Leon had woven into the metal, the Iron Needle in its tang, and the Adamant itself, the blade gave off a radiant aura that had Leon smiling every time he looked in its direction.  Given Cassandra’s reaction, it was having a similar, if somewhat more powerful effect on her.

“I need one,” she declared.

Valeria next to her nodded in agreement, her eyes narrowing in amusement as they slid from the blade to Leon.

Leon sighed.  Getting everyone Adamant would be an incredible challenge, especially with their power.  He wasn’t even sure if it was possible with the method he had since none of them had the Thunderbird’s power—he was given to believe that sky forging wasn’t something that everyone could do to create their own Adamant.

Still, getting his family better gear was hardly a worthless endeavor.  “We’ll have to see in time,” he said.  “Or is Sunlight not doing the job anymore?”

Cassandra finally tore her eyes away from the new blade and stared at him, a scandalized expression on her face.  “Sunlight is perfect and I will not hear a word against her!”

“It’s a ‘her’, now?” Elise quipped from where she sat, quietly watching everything with an amused look.

“It’s always been a ‘her’,” Cassandra retorted.  “It’s just not always been apparent.”

[It’s only a sword,] Maia said with a hint of distant dismissiveness.

“A weapon is more than ‘just’ anything,” Valeria countered as Cassandra turned her scandalized glare in Maia’s direction.  “It’s what keeps us alive and serves as a companion more constant than any other.  To grow attached is normal.”

“Should I be jealous?” Leon pleasantly inquired, his tone lacking seriousness.

Valeria gave him a cheeky grin. “No.  Well, maybe a little.”

The final member of Leon’s family and the only other person present in the room, Anzu, finally said, “But we can all have one of these of our own, right?”

“Of course,” Leon replied.  “Just as soon as you can make one yourself.  It’s not something I can do for you.  More like something that you create, that you give shape on your own.  It’s a part of you and will respond only to you and your descendants.”

“Sounds complicated,” Anzu said with a childish frown that didn’t quite match up with his looks.  He was now in his twenties, but in some respects, he still acted younger than his years.  Leon supposed he ought not to be surprised; Anzu was a griffin and couldn’t be judged by human standards.

Leon gave his little brother a quick hug around his shoulders in comfort before turning back to the room at large.

“I’ve been told,” he hesitantly began, “that giving my weapon a name is a smart idea.  The Thunderbird didn’t name her sword and I was keen to follow that example, but she insisted that I not.  Thoughts?”

“You don’t have one already, Leon?” Elise asked with interest.

“No,” Leon replied.  “Like I said, I had no plans going into this, and I was only just given this advice.  I’m still sorely tempted to not give the sword a name, though.”

“You should give it a name!” Anzu insisted, his eyes practically glittering with excitement.  “All the best swords in the books I read have names!”

“If you don’t name it,” Valeria said, “someone else will.  And who knows if it will be flattering or not?”

“Yeah!” Cassandra agreed.  “What if they call it the Eagle’s butt-scratcher or something!  Hardly dignified!”

“If anyone’s going to call it that,” Leon responded, “they’re going to do so regardless of whether or not I give it a name.  That’s not the point.”

“I still think you should name it,” Valeria said.

“So do I,” Elise chimed in.

“Yeah!  Yeah!” Cassandra energetically cried.

“Yeah!  Yeah!” Anzu parroted with an enthusiastic nod.

Leon glanced at Maia who gave him a noncommittal shrug.  [It’s a powerful weapon.  Dangerous.  But it’s of you; do as you please with it.  No matter what, it will be the right choice; it’s a part of you.]

“Compelling arguments, all,” Leon murmured with a shallow smile.  “Fine.  What’s a name, anyway?  Maybe a little pompous, but not that consequential in the grand scheme of things, is it?”

“Who knows?  Maybe it could be?” Valeria said with a smile.  “Choose something worthy of your creation; who knows how long it may be passed down through your Clan?”

Leon’s smile tightened slightly.  “Our Clan, right?”

Valeria blinked in mild surprise.  “Yes, yes.  That can be hard… to remember sometimes.”  An embarrassed smile spread across her face as her cheeks went scarlet.  Cassandra wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a quick hug, which Leon quickly mirrored as he went to his silver-haired lover.

‘Maybe it’s time I married her, too?’ he thought.  He and Valeria hadn’t been that keen on getting married, each wanting to keep their relationship as it was for the time being.  Leon due to not wanting to alter the status quo much for fear of negative consequences, and Valeria as far as he could tell because she didn’t want to compete with anyone else for his affection, so she made her relationship less ‘threatening’ by being less formal.

Not that he cared about such things; all four of them held equal places in his heart.  And besides, he’d already agreed to have kids with all four of them, and what was marriage in the face of that kind of commitment?  He supposed if she was still seeing herself as an other in their relationship, if she was still thinking of herself as an outsider, then he’d have to think of some way to drive home just how he felt and what he thought her place was in his life—at his side, with Elise, Maia, and Cassandra, as well as any children they would have.

She was important to him, and he refused to lose her, regardless of the past they or their families shared.

“Sooo,” Anzu said a little awkwardly as Elise rose from her lounge and pulled Valeria down into it, with Cassandra joining her.  The two ladies took up spots on either side of Valeria, holding her hands and not letting her get up, to her immense and evident embarrassment.  “How about ‘Storm Cutter’?”

“Oooh, that’s a good one,” Cassandra said.

“It is,” Leon admitted even as a frown spread across his face, “but I’d like to avoid those kinds of names.  ‘Storm’ this-and-that, you know?  Everything my Clan named was ‘Storm’ whatever-the-fuck, and I don’t want to follow in those uncreative footsteps.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” his Evergolden bride from the Sacred Golden Empire said.  “Naming everything ‘Storm’ who-gives-a-shit was as much for everyone else as it was for them.  It helps to reinforce their position in society by perpetually tying them to a force of nature.  The Thunderbird Clan is inextricably linked with the primal and destructive power of a storm, and much of that is because of how they named everything after it.”

“Point taken,” Leon said.  “Still, there are other concerns.  I am not only of the Thunderbird Clan but also of the Great Black Dragon Clan, as much as that particular progenitor of mine would like to disown me.  His power is still in my blood; and now, in my sword.  Finding a balance between these two powers was key to finally creating true Adamant, and I don’t want to forget that by giving it a name that only favors one half of my lineage.”

Cassandra gave him an agreeable nod as Maia quickly suggested, [How about ‘River’s Edge’?]

“Another good one,” Leon said before he turned his eyes to the rest of his family.

Elise said, “I’m not good with names, but… what about… hmm, come back to me.”

“Dread!” Anzu excitedly shouted.  “Thunder Talon!  Raptor’s Wrath!  Song of Death!”

“Very, uh, ‘cool’ names,” Leon diplomatically stated.

“King’s Promise?” Elise hesitantly suggested before wrinkling her nose in distaste.  “No, never mind, not good enough.”

“Rage of the Universe?” Cassandra floated.  “For the Universe Fragment in there, you know?”

Leon nodded, liking her reasoning if not the name.

“What about ‘Dragon Slayer’?” Elise offered.  “Something to make that dragon in your soul realm apoplectic, maybe?”

“A good joke, but perhaps not permanent,” Leon said.

[Ocean Song?] Maia proposed.  Her eyes narrowed as a playful mood struck her.  [Nymph Conqueror, maybe?]

“Are we still talking about names for the sword, or epithets for me?” Leon asked, meeting her suggestive look with one of his own.  She just raised her eyebrows and smirked.

Finally, Valeria spoke again, but it wasn’t to offer a name.  “What do you feel when holding it?” she asked.  “What do you want it to do?  What message do you want to leave for yourself and those who wield it after you?  I think… I think the name will come when answering one of these questions.”

The room fell silent as everyone admired her suggestion.

Leon smiled as he stared lovingly at her, finding her immeasurably attractive as she grew bashful under everyone’s gaze.  Then he contemplated what she said, finding plenty of wisdom in her words.

What he felt when he held the weapon was easy to say: Pride.  Pride in himself, in his accomplishment, in the sign of where he was heading.

Pride in his Clan, too, which had taken him long enough to come to terms with.

What he wanted the sword to do was also easy enough to put into words: he wanted it to kill his enemies, protect his family and friends, and empower him in all ways.  It now held the Iron Needle, one of the most powerful symbols of his Clan, and so this sword would also become one of his Clan’s symbols.  He planned on achieving immortality, but if he ever retired or died, his successor would wield this blade, and he wanted it to protect them, too.

In that respect, he also had to pay special attention to Valeria’s third question: what did he want this blade to say to that successor, and their successor?  What message could he send them that he might not be around to pass on himself?

He wanted them to take pride in their Clan, to protect the Clan against all threats, and to act with honor, grace, and dignity.  To act with pride in oneself, but to also act in ways that would be worthy of that pride.

He supposed he also felt other things, such as his ambition to reclaim his Clan’s vaunted place in the universe, but he settled on pride as the defining characteristic of the weapon.

But simply naming it ‘Pride’ wasn’t enough.  He felt like it needed more than that.  He couldn’t name it ‘Storm’s Pride’ or anything like that for reasons he’d already said.  However, while his power within the blade was balanced, it now had another power aside from his own: that of the Iron Needle.  Leon hadn’t yet truly held the weapon as he was waiting until he properly finished it with its handle and guard, but the Iron Needle was still lodged in the weapon and filling it with its unquantifiable power.  An element of the Universe Fragment could be added to the name, he supposed.

After several long seconds, he finally spoke.  “Iron Pride.”

“I like it,” Cassandra said.  “Rolls off the tongue well.”

Maia gave him a slightly disappointed look, clearly a little put out that he didn’t take any of her suggestions, but she nodded eventually anyway.

Valeria gave him nothing but supportive looks, while Anzu seemed about ready to start fizzing with excitement.

Elise, meanwhile, said without a hint of irony or sarcasm, “A good name.  What are you trying to say with it?”

“The ‘Iron’ part comes from the Iron Needle,” Leon explained.  “Easy enough, right?  A reminder of the power contained within the weapon, of the destructive power that could be unleashed in unworthy hands.

“The ‘Pride’ part is a little more complicated.  I want it to be both a reminder to have pride in oneself and one’s Clan, but also that one must earn that pride.  You can’t just sit around not doing anything, expecting the world to come to you.  You have to do something worth taking pride in and be someone that others can be proud of.  No King can be a King without pride, and it’s something I’m going to need quite a bit of if I’m going to properly rebuild my Clan.”

“I can think of a few other things that are needed to rebuild a Clan,” Elise said suggestively as she devoured Leon’s body with her eyes.

Cassandra said, “So can I.  Like blood and death and war and other stuff like that.  Reclaiming old glories, uncovering old mysteries…”

Leon nodded gratefully to his ladies and Anzu, having been a little embarrassed to put forward his potential name as he had.  He turned back to his sword hovering slightly off the table.  “How about it, huh?  ‘Iron Pride’?  I’ll expect the best from you, and I hope you’ll do the same.”

He truly wasn’t expecting the sword to answer.  The thing wasn’t sentient, let alone sapient, and even if it was, it was more of an extension of himself rather than its own separate being.  That was the whole point of Adamant and infusing one’s power into the metal.

And yet, as he spoke, the blade began to glow with arcane light completely independently of Leon.  It filled him with serenity and joy, as if that was what the sword itself was feeling in response to receiving a name.

Leon grinned, knowing he’d made a good choice.  He gently brushed his hand across the metal, admiring the weapon intently as it filled the room with its calming power.  “That’s that, isn’t it?  No higher endorsement of the name can there be than from the sword itself…”

“Should I be jealous, now?” Valeria playfully asked.

Leon smirked back at her.  “Maybe a little.”

---

Leon received many congratulations in the days that followed his forging of Iron Pride.  He mostly locked himself away doing his best to forge the finest handle and guard he could for his new weapon, eager as he was to finally get the completed work in his hand.

Despite this, however, he was still a King and had duties to attend to—duties he couldn’t perpetually put off.  Iron-Striker helped a great deal as he returned to duty, his body now mostly healed even if his soul realm and magical foundation would require years to stabilize and fully recover.  Leon had been worried that what he’d suffered would impact his performance, but Iron-Striker seemed made of stern stuff as he went right back to work as soon as he was able, handling many of the bureaucratic duties that Leon hadn’t the temperament for.

Leon was immensely grateful, though he tried to ensure that Iron-Striker knew he could always take as much time off as he might’ve needed.  Iron-Striker simply assured him that he was fine and was getting the help he needed—“… and congratulations on that sword and the ascension to tenth-tier, by the way…”

All of the Tribes practically lined up to congratulate Leon after Iron-Striker, as well as all his ministers, officers in the army, citizens of Stormhollow, retainers, the dogs and cats of the island, the wind itself, and by the end, Leon was so damned tired of all the congratulations that he almost thought the waves crashing on the shores of the lake were congratulating him, too.

Another island-wide party was thrown, Leon learning that it didn’t take much for the Ten Tribes to throw a massive party.  He decided to match the festiveness and moved up the commissioning of many officers and officials in his bureaucracy as they were celebrating his achievement, quietly focusing on putting as many bloodline-less members of the Tribes into these positions as he could get away with.  He’d already enshrined their status as equal to that of those with awakened bloodlines on the island, and he wanted to prove that with actions and not just with words.

But throughout all of this, it was his sword that drew most of his attention.  The handle he made from thunder wood and wrapped in lion leather.  The wing-like guard was made of enchanted silver, heavily reinforced with ancient runes while the small sapphires embedded into it were filled with power almost immediately thanks to the thunder wood and Iron Needle.  The talon-shaped pommel, finally, was forged of additional enchanted silver and decorated with a tuft of feathers from the roc he’d hunted down while gaining the allegiance of the Heart-Stabbing Hawks.

By the end, he could hardly take his eyes off the weapon.  It was, in his humble opinion, his masterpiece, the culmination of all he’d learned of the arts of enchanting and blacksmithing.  His family’s sword would always be irreplaceable in his heart, but Iron Pride was his, and it would be Iron Pride that would symbolize and protect his Clan going forward.

The sword was finally finished, ready for him to take it.

With bated breath, Leon reached out, his fingers brushing against the leather of the handle for one hesitant moment before he seized the finished sword and held it up.  Immediately, a torrent of lightning of every color poured from the blade as the Adamant seemed to sing in joy.  Leon felt a rush of power he’d never felt before rush through him, filling his body with energy and magic power while the air around him sparked and crackled with lightning.

Then the sword settled in his hand, its cataclysmic power at his disposal.  And he knew just how to test his new power…

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