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1050 - Decades

Due to a schedule conflict, I’ll be releasing Wednesday’s chapter an hour earlier than usual - 9 am CT instead of 10 am CT.

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The ore shivered as magic entered it.  It shook and shook, and dust fell from it as it might from an old rug being beaten and cleaned.  This dust was all of the impurities that lay in the metal, much of it metal itself that glinted in the artificial lights that illuminated the spectacularly well-appointed workshop.

Leon smiled in satisfaction.  He could sense the iron was pure.  With a wave of his hand, the iron was merged into a single ingot.  With another wave, an ingot of specially crafted bronze the color of pale gold appeared.  The two ingots were about the same size, with the bronze being slightly larger.  A third wave of Leon’s hand summoned a third ingot, this one much smaller than the other two.  It gleamed like bright silver, but Leon treated it like the coldest ice, not touching it for fear of melting it.  This final ingot was Titanstone in its purest form.

With a deep sigh, he readied himself for the endeavor he was about to set out upon.  Decades of research and experimentation had led to this moment, and he had prepared himself as much as he possibly could.  He had the plans for what he was about to make next to him, but he had labored over those plans for so long and studied them so thoroughly, that he could picture what he’d designed in perfect detail without even looking at them.

His focus sharpened and narrowed until the metal on the table in front of him was all he could see.  The others in his workshop practically vanished, and he no longer paid any attention to the attention of those within his soul realm who observed him.

Leon extended a hand and used his earth magic to inspect the metals before him one last time.  Though he’d never be good enough with the element to use it in battle, for this purpose, the skill he’d built up over the decades was more than sufficient.

The iron was ready, as was the bronze.  The Titanstone he didn’t even think about touching with his magic yet, but he gave it one last visual inspection, turning it with delicate tongs to not touch it with his fingers.  Everything was ready.  He was ready.

He delayed no longer; his power sank first into the iron, and the metal sang and screeched as it seemed to liquify and change shape.  The iron formed a spherical wireframe the size of his head, with small, strategically placed holes throughout.  The wire itself was hollow, to be filled later.  A few measurements made while the sphere hung in the air, captured by Leon’s power, confirmed that the wireframe was as perfectly spherical as Leon could make it.

Next came the bronze.  Like the iron, his power turned it to liquid without heat, and it moved as he willed it to.  It coated the outside edge of the iron wireframe, with the outermost edge flattening, leaving the wireframe spherical on the inside, but with the bronze on the outside creating the wireframe of a twenty-four-sided die.  Every iron wire now had two bronze sides.

The enchantment that Leon wanted to be inscribed was burned into his mind’s eye from years of experimentation and design, and in but a moment, every bronze side of this wireframe was inscribed with thousands of tiny modern runes that would’ve been barely perceptible by a mortal.  On every bronze corner, he added ancient runes, all of which took longer than the modern runes as he had to imagine what he wanted these runes to do with as much clarity as he could muster.

Finally, he picked up the Titanstone with his tongs and held it within the wireframe.  Then, he lightly touched it with elementless power, and a significant portion of the magically superconductive metal immediately liquified.  The Titanstone slid off the ingot like some kind of frictionless mercury, but instead of falling through the wireframe, the enchantments on the object, powered by Leon, activated, and the Titanstone was pulled into the nearest holes, filling the hollow wire.

Leon repeated this until all of the Titanstone had entered the iron.  Then, with not much more than a single thought, he closed the iron holes, leaving the iron wire filled with Titanstone.

With that, he was finished, and he submerged the finished piece in his magic senses, inspecting every etched rune, every angle of bronze, every iron curve.  A few minute adjustments were made, and then he laid it on the table.

“Ready,” he whispered, sweat beading upon his forehead not from exertion, but from anxiety.  More than forty similar wireframes, some more different from this piece than others, lay upon another table.  All of those had been failures, many with scorch marks and jagged edges telling stories all on their own of the experimentation that Leon had put them through.

From behind Leon, Nestor, his body now a little smaller but far more agile and lifelike in its movements, strode forward.  He was now made of bluish-silver metal with outer plating sculpted to resemble the masculine ideal in such detail that though he didn’t go so far as to add metallic genitalia, he had still opted to wear pants and flowing robes decorated with embroidered images of raptors in flight.  His face, however, still held only the barest resemblance to a human face, taking some vague shape but no more than that.

The dead man gingerly picked up the wireframe and inspected it himself.  He took longer than Leon had, and as he worked, Elise and Valeria took Leon’s arms while Cassandra and Maia each watched Nestor like hawks.  Of the four, Valeria, Cassandra, and Maia had all reached the tenth-tier, while Elise was at the ninth-tier, though pushing up against the edges of the tenth herself.

The workshop remained silent even as Leon gave his ladies a quick smile before his golden eyes returned to the wireframe.

Finally, after ten excruciating minutes of inspection interspersed with Nestor referencing Leon’s designs, Nestor reverently laid the wireframe on the table.

“I have nothing to add,” he whispered.  “I rarely say this, Leon, but there are few enchanted items that I’ve seen that exceed this in the beauty of their enchantments.”

Leon smiled again, appreciating the compliment.  “Let’s hope it works then,” he softly replied, the purpose of the wireframe weighing heavily upon him.  “I’d hate to go to all this effort just to have it fail.”

The Titanstone alone had been ludicrously expensive, even though Leon had nationalized the Titanstone quarries of Kataigida.  The simple fact that Titanstone was in such high demand meant that taking even this small amount carried with it a heavy opportunity cost. 

But if it did what it was supposed to do, then the cost was nothing in comparison.

Leon took a deep breath, then pulled the wireframe into his soul realm.  He smiled at his ladies, asking, “Shall we try this thing out?”

“By the Ashen Fields, yes!” Cassandra shouted, her eyes all but glittering with excitement.  He grinned as his heart beat faster at her display of enthusiasm.

[I’m interested in seeing what comes of it,] Maia added, the comparative serenity with which she spoke contrasted by the shivering glee that Leon could sense pouring through their connection.  He sent back warmth and love.

“With this, the Nexus will soon be in reach,” Valeria stated.  “There’s nothing I’m readier for than to bathe in the stars with you, Leon.”  Leon shared a loving smile with her, the silent promise to find their mothers passing between them through the expression alone.

Finally, Elise said, “Immortality is something I can hardly wrap my head around.  But so long as our circumstances continue, then I suppose eternity spent with you will be eternity well spent.”  She leaned against him, one of her hands lowering from his elbow to his hand, and she intertwined her fingers with his.  He squeezed her hand back and leaned over to kiss her forehead.  Leon yet remained childless, and not for lack of trying.  Still, he supposed that limitless time spent with Elise would be a more than acceptable alternative.

‘Not that we’ll ever stop trying for kids,’ he thought as he laid his hand against her abdomen.  She held his hand there, and the two shared a moment of desire not just for each other, but for what would eventually come, no matter what mountains Leon had to move.

With some reluctance, Leon stepped away from Elise and Valeria and addressed the room.

“No use in delaying, is there?  Let’s get this done!”

“Yeah!” Cassandra exclaimed.  “This time will work, I can feel it!”

“Let’s hope so,” Valeria hesitantly added.  “But if it doesn’t, then we’ll just try again.”

Leon grinned.  Valeria had contributed in no small part to his research, joining him more and more often in his enchanting studies now that his retinue had largely been replaced by his bureaucracy and the Tempest Knights.

“This time will work,” Elise repeated in agreement.  “How could it not when the anniversary is so close?  What better gift to the Kingdom can there be than for their King to achieve Apotheosis?”

Leon nodded, though he had to take a moment to think about what she’d said.  It still baffled him how long this had lasted; fifty years he’d been King—or rather, it would be fifty years in just two days’ time.

Fifty years since Iron-Striker had given Leon his vote to be King, and most of his supporters had followed suit.  Fifty years since the war with the Sunlit Empire, now firmly united behind the recently-proclaimed Emperor Arcaion.  Fifty years since he’d gone on his adventure to Arkhnavi and seen with his own eyes for the second time the horrors that the Grave Wardens kept locked away.

The vast majority of mages that reached the heights of power he’d attained did so late in their lives.  Iron-Striker had been centuries old when he’d reached the tenth-tier.  The former Sunlit Emperor had, perhaps, been the quickest, benefitting greatly from the wisdom and experience of his mother, and even he’d been pushing two hundred years old when he’d reached the tenth-tier.

Leon, in contrast, hadn’t even reached his fortieth year.  Of course, he couldn’t attribute all of that to his own effort as he’d relied in no small part on his Inherited Bloodline to reach so high, but his had still been a meteoric rise never before seen on Aeterna.  That he lingered at the tenth-tier unable to achieve Apotheosis was hardly that surprising in a normal sense, but it had left him feeling somewhat frustrated.  As it turned out, condensing an Origin Spark was not an easy thing to accomplish, else it wouldn’t follow the pattern that only a minority of mages ever ascend past their current tier—most tenth-tier mages died before achieving Apotheosis.

Still, with the aid and support of the Thunderbird, Xaphan, and Nestor, and resources such as ambrosia, Leon hadn’t estimated needing five decades to achieve Apotheosis.  But fifty years it had been, or just about, and he’d resorted to including his enchanting and blacksmithing work in his preparations.

The wireframe he had was designed to contain his condensed power, helping him to keep that power compressed until it ignited into an Origin Spark.  The Thunderbird had initially tried to encourage him to continue trying the ‘natural’ way, but after twenty years, Leon’s progress had stalled.  He’d still grown stronger as his soul realm had expanded but achieving Apotheosis had proven elusive.  His power had simply never ignited.

Leon’s patience had worn thin, and while he continued his ‘natural’ attempts while the Thunderbird chided him for his impatience, he also began looking into ways to boost his chances.

As the stack of broken wireframes could attest, none had worked, though progress on that front had been made.  He’d come so close in his last attempt that he was as certain as he would allow himself to be that this time was going to work.  The wireframe he’d just finished making was as perfect as it could be, from the materials to the enchantment.  These were not his only preparations, though.

As he left his workshop, his wives in tow—and indeed, they were all his wives, as he’d formally married Maia and Valeria on the fifth and tenth anniversaries of his accession, respectively—he found a couple familiar faces waiting in the hallway.

“Success, Leon?” Iron-Striker asked.

“Success,” Leon easily replied.

“Then let the Ancestors smile upon you,” his Chancellor replied.  Though his power had taken quite the hit following his defeat at the hands of the Sunlit Emperor, all that had been regained, and then some thanks to the infrastructure that Leon had developed.

Ambrosia, it turned out, was a much better healing aid than even Hesperidic Apples.

The Jaguar greeted Leon, too.  “The Kingdom awaits your ascension, Leon,” he said with a smile, his tenth-tier flexing subtly with repressed excitement.

“Let’s hope they don’t have to wait much longer,” Leon smilingly quipped.  “They’ve been waiting long enough, I think.”

“We will wait as long as the last descendant of the Most Venerable desires us to,” the Jaguar stated.  “The Tribes are behind you, all the way.”

Leon clapped him on the shoulder.  His reign had been remarkably peaceful, with the Ten Tribes working toward a unified purpose for the first time since their confederation had been born.  He was sure that they could’ve unified under someone like the Iron-Striker, if not the man himself, but he was grateful that they had chosen him instead.

“All of you are next if this works,” Leon said.

“It would be our honor,” the Jaguar said, and Iron-Striker expressed a similar sentiment.

From there, Leon ventured out into the adjacent courtyard.  There, he found his friends and brother waiting for him.  Anzu was right at the column closest to the hall, and he was practically vibrating with anticipation.  He’d matured quite a bit in the decades since gaining the power to assume human form, but when he got excited, he would revert to old habits.

As Anzu fell in with Leon and his wives, Leon glanced at and nodded to the others in the courtyard.

Alix and Gaius were there, along with their three children.  Alcander and Sofia were there, too, and so were their two children.  All of these children were now adults of some power, being largely third to fifth-tier.  Leon appreciated all of his retainers having families, encouraging them to do so even though his attempts so far had failed.  His bloodlines gave him power but came at a cost, and it was a cost that his friends didn’t need to symbolically bear with him.

Marcus stood by with Lucianus, the Paladin Roland’s son, at his side.  Lucianus had long since been knighted, and now possessed seventh-tier strength.  He’d grown into a fine warrior, one that Leon counted himself lucky to have on his side.  Though he no longer served as Marcus’ squire, he still followed Marcus as his patron, acting as Marcus’ chief deputy out in the Exarchate of the Common Lands.

Not too far away from Marcus stood Helen.  The two had remained single throughout the past fifty years, but on many occasions, Leon had caught them having short meetings that were hardly secret, but both largely denied having.  There was something there, Leon was sure, but if they weren’t willing to openly acknowledge it, then neither was he.

Anna and Eirene, meanwhile, couldn’t have biological kids for obvious reasons, and yet next to them were two handsome young men, one with blond hair and the other with blue.  These were Nidar and Astar, the two wyverns that Anna had taken in so long ago, now each at the seventh-tier and strong enough to assume human form.  Anna and Eirene had taken the two in as the children they would never have, and Leon assumed that if Ladon and the manticore ever reached a similar level—both were still only sixth-tier—then they’d be taken in, as well.

Penelope was the final person present.  She wasn’t as close to Leon as the others, but he still considered her a friend.  Plus, she represented the Director’s continued commitment to their partnership.  The Director had done quite a bit during the past few decades to assure Leon that his fealty was still strong even though he’d ascended to the tenth-tier—with Leon’s backing, he no longer had to worry that the Empires would see him as a threat and move against Heaven’s Eye, and so had resumed his magical training augmented by no small number of bottles of ambrosia.  Penelope, too, had trained hard, reaching the ninth-tier.

A few people were missing that might’ve otherwise been present, but he didn’t mind.  He wasn’t exactly expecting all business everywhere to cease just to see if he succeeded in this latest attempt to achieve Apotheosis.

Tikos was managing the continued growth of its Hesperidic Apple grove and the more numerous thunder wood groves being set up all over the Kingdom; Emilie was handling some sensitive Heaven’s Eye business; and Justin was available, but Leon wasn’t keen on him visiting that often.

Leon didn’t stop to talk, though his wives decided to mingle.  Everyone would wait there in the courtyard while Leon ventured alone into a nearby training chamber.  He was determined to emerge a post-Apotheosis mage.

Once the door shut behind him, he sighed.  The weight of everyone’s expectations was heavy, but his were even heavier.  Besides, the fiftieth anniversary of his crowning was a feat that demanded he achieve such a milestone, he figured.

He strode to the middle of the training chamber in only a few steps.  In the center was the Luwen staff, taken from the Sunlit Emperor during the campaign on the Sword.  The staff was in its three constituent parts sticking out of a round plate of dull bronze set into the floor.  A complex array of enchantments had been inscribed upon the bronze, amplifying the staff’s power.

Leon sat down on a meditation pillow in front of the staff pieces and activated them.  Immediately, he noticed the density of magic around his body increase, and he opened himself to it, absorbing the magic that was gathering around his body.  He felt other effects, too, but he ignored those for the time being.  Not even sex could distract him from what he was readying himself to do.

He assumed a comfortable position and dove into his soul realm.  When he opened his eyes in his Mind Palace, he found his soul realm’s passengers waiting for him.  Xaphan greeted him with but a nod of his head, and the Thunderbird in her human form stood next to the table with everything Leon had prepared.

After pushing himself off his throne, Leon walked over, sparing only a glance at the large ring structure he’d stored in his soul realm.  The circular structure was imposing, being five feet thick and with an inner diameter of fifty feet.  The exterior had been inscribed with modern runes, but upon seven ‘face’ blocks on the enormous ring’s band, he’d inscribed ancient runes found in the writings of Laylen, one of Tir’Anu’s monastic brothers on Arkhnavi.

“How’s it look?” Leon asked the Thunderbird as he joined her at the table upon which his wireframe creation rested.  Next to the wireframe was Iron Pride and five bottles of ambrosia, brewed by Helen personally using techniques learned from the palaces in the Sundered Lands—while his incursion into the Indra Raj had ruffled Keeper’s feathers, forty years of continuous peace were enough for him to finally relent and let Leon start taking what he wanted from the palaces.  Lumenite, books and other records, and golems Leon had made a priority to seize.  Most of the equipment was unusable, but he grabbed what he could, and from all of those gains Helen had greatly refined her ambrosia brewing technique, to the point that Nestor and the Thunderbird both agreed that what she made was worthy of some fairly high courts in the Nexus.

“As perfect as it can be, to my eyes,” the Thunderbird said with a grin.  “I still think you’re being impatient, but if this works, then it works.  I don’t see much of a downside.”

“Really?” Leon asked.  “Using some outside aid isn’t going to ruin my foundation or something?  Make my Origin Spark as fragile as glass?”

The Thunderbird softly chuckled.  “Something that emits the very power of creation simply can’t be fragile.  So instead of complaining about you wanting to find a shortcut, I’ll just say this: good luck.”

She gave him a brief hug, then stood back, and Leon assessed what he had.

Five bottles of ambrosia.  His wireframe creation.  Iron Pride, and in its hilt, the Iron Needle.

He was as ready as he ever was to achieve Apotheosis.

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