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By the time Jericho’s gala wound down, Leon was dead tired. His mind had been taxed to its utmost limit by the sheer number of introductions he’d endured, the strain of matching hundreds of names to as many faces, while not impossible to bear, wearing him thin. Even Elise and Cassandra, his two most politically astute wives, had thin smiles and furrowed brows by the time the end drew near.
Unfortunately, retreating to Storm Herald wasn’t an option, as just as Leon was making eyes at his ladies and preparing to leave, Jericho finally came over after having left him to the gala’s attendees for several hours.
“Leon!” Jericho exclaimed just as a particularly exuberant Strategos left Leon, and before Leon could return to his new acquaintances. “How have these few hours been?” the Anax warmly asked as he strolled over.
“It’s been about the same as any others I’ve been to, honestly,” Leon said. “Just higher tiers and more luxurious surroundings.”
An amused smile crawled across Jericho’s face. “Politics is the same no matter where we are, aren’t they?”
“They can be,” Leon said. “Talking in ballrooms makes for a rather different experience than a warlord swinging an ax into his enemy’s face.”
“It sounds to me like you’d prefer the latter.”
“It’s a simpler problem to deal with, I’ll say that much.”
A polite chuckle slipped past Jericho’s lips before he laid a hand on Leon’s shoulder and asked, “Might we speak more privately?”
Leon hesitated and cast a look not only at his family, as his wives and brother were still speaking with Strategoi and pre-Apotheosis mages, but also at Archelaus, Illum, and Gwarim, who were standing only a short distance away and might’ve been expecting him to return to their conversation after the seemingly endless introductions were finally over. His family seemed all right, and Archelaus’ group simply nodded and returned to their own conversation, so he said, “I can spare some words for the party’s host.”
“I hope you have more than just ‘a few’ words,” Jericho said with a pointed smile. Power pulsed as he raised a hand, but before Leon could feel too alarmed, he merely drew a rune in the air that shone with intimidating light. That rune’s power spread over the pair, and the air around them seemed to still, leaving the room beyond the bounds of the silence rune feeling deadened and unreal.
“Something serious enough for public privacy?” Leon asked as he pushed waves of mental fatigue out of his mind.
“Maybe I just want to give off the impression that we’re discussing something important,” Jericho replied with upturned lips and a flash of gleaming white teeth. “Or maybe I do have something important to speak about.”
“If it’s important, then why have it here?” Leon refrained from wild gesticulation, but he blatantly turned his golden eyes all around them and the small horde of powerful mages that surrounded them.
“Relax,” Jericho said almost commandingly. “I’m interested in a few things, and I like keeping my affairs private even when they don’t necessitate backroom deals or ostentatious meetings.”
“Then let’s get to the point.”
“Let’s. I have been given to understand that you have been manufacturing a new material that stores power better than any gemstone.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. ‘Storm crystal?’
“Could you be more specific?” he asked.
Jericho gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Have you been making so many innovations that you find it hard to keep track?”
Leon returned the smile. “Something like that.”
For a moment, Jericho looked like he’d been genuinely offended, but then his smile relaxed and he conjured a small, dark crystal that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. “This is what I’m talking about,” he said.
Some measure of relief wound its way through Leon’s head as his eyes landed on the translucent crystal, as while materials like thunder wood and cloud glass weren’t as strategically important as Aurichalcum or Titanstone, they were still fairly closely-guarded secrets in his Kingdom, and they were not open for trade.
“Storm crystal,” he said.
“Anax Alderion called it something different, but if that’s what you call it, then ‘storm crystal’ it is,” Jericho replied.
“Are you looking to buy some?” Leon inquired.
“Refreshingly direct. Yes, Leon, I would buy every shard of this storm crystal as you have available—assuming the price is reasonable.”
“Storm crystal is an important resource in my Kingdom,” Leon said, “though we can produce it at a large enough scale to trade. Current rate is half its weight in Aurichalcum, though I can be flexible on that front.”
“How flexible?” Jericho asked with a thoughtful look. At the same time, he returned the piece of storm crystal to his soul realm.
“The material exchanged for storm crystal doesn’t have to be Aurichalcum, but we’ll have to negotiate at that point.”
For a moment, Jericho frowned as he considered the price. When his eyes returned to Leon, his smile returned, and he said, “That price is acceptable. My people will get in touch with yours after the Games to discuss details.”
“I’ll be sure to let them know.”
Jericho extended his arm, and Leon clasped his wrist, informally sealing the deal. As they released each other, Leon had to fight to keep the piles of Aurichalcum he could make off selling storm glass—or the oceans of Titanstone or enormous beams of Lumenite—out of his mind, though it was hard when one of the most powerful mages in the universe was expressing interest in the material.
‘Security will have to be increased in Artorion,’ he silently noted, knowing that monopolies were despised by those not in control of them, and he could easily see Anakes or even Basileis moving against him to break that monopoly.
“Was that all?” Leon asked.
“Originally, yes,” Jericho replied. “But then you arrived on my doorstep with a number of remarkable constructs. Golems, it seemed, and of a quality I’ve never seen before. I would be interested in purchasing them, too. Only a few at first, but with the possibility of more down the line…”
Reluctance swept through Leon. He hadn’t brought any golems, only giants and Ulta suits, neither of which were for sale. Giants weren’t his slaves to be sold as he pleased, and Ulta suits were particular weapons that, as far as he knew, didn’t have much of a match in the Nexus. They were fast, flexible, and strong, letting a mage as low as even the third-tier to fight at a near-Apotheosis level, while also serving as a platform for communications and breaching terminus lines without exposing the pilot to the Void. Fighter arks were close in terms of speed and firepower, but they lacked the sheer versatility of a ten to twelve-foot-tall suit of armor.
He wasn’t surprised that others wanted to buy them, though, since as far as he was concerned, Mari was a once-in-a-lifetime genius when it came to the Ulta suits, and she was working with Nestor, a man whose achievements in golem smithing were without equal. Still, even the actual golems that they’d designed for harder and heavier labor, Leon wasn’t willing to sell.
“That… is more complicated,” he said. “My people don’t even have enough of either for ourselves, and we’re not going to be selling them until our needs have been satisfied.”
Jericho didn’t receive his words with enthusiasm, but he at least took them with grace. “So be it, my friend. In that case, how about instead of doing business, you at least show me around Storm Herald? It’s been a long time since I last saw her, and I’ve never seen the interior; I confess that I’ve always wanted to know what she looked like from within.”
“We… can arrange that,” Leon hesitantly said. Jericho was polite enough, but Storm Herald was the kind of ark that he didn’t want mages he couldn’t control to have access to. Still, turning down an Anax a second time in a row, especially for something that on its face was so small, seemed unwise.
Jericho smiled in gratitude. “Delightful. While my armies will certainly be disappointed in not having some new war golems to use against my belligerent neighbors out in Ionis, having greater access to storm crystal should alleviate the pressure considerably. Now, my business has been handled. Have you any of your own that you wish to bring up with me?”
“None right now,” Leon replied.
“Great! Then, if you don’t mind, why don’t you tell me of your war with Terris? I’ve had the distinct displeasure of meeting that man once before, and few things give me as much pleasure as imagining how thoroughly you crushed him beneath your boot…”
Leon spent nearly an hour more regaling Jericho with the story of his arrival in the Nexus and the subsequent war with Despot Terris, though tactfully skipping over the cost he’d paid in the end, nor how difficult it would’ve been to continue the war without Miuna’s intervention. However, he wasn’t able to squeak by without at least mentioning the Ocean Princess, which the Storm Anax had to comment on.
“Has she been an issue for you?”
“Princess Miuna has been a dependable enough partner. With her support, the Ocean Lords have been leaving the Far West alone, which suits my purposes just fine.”
“Interesting…” Jericho whispered almost conspiratorially. “I’ve heard rumors of the Princess frequenting your city, Leon… Just how close are you to this woman?”
Without missing a beat, Leon said, “We partnered to stop Terris’ war equitably, and in the years since, we’ve become something like friends.”
“Right. Friends. A word of advice for you, my friend: the Ocean Lords and their spawn are not to be trusted. The Storm Lands were subjected to great violence in the absence of a proper Storm King, and the Ocean Lords were the largest perpetrators of that violence. Many of the younger Lords here might not understand since the situation has been relatively stable these past ten thousand years, but more blood has been spilled on the shores of the Storm Lands than in any other theater since the last Reconstitution. Those of us with longer memories might have problems with that ‘friendship’.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leon said a little testily.
Jericho nodded once, and there ended their conversation. The gala had been winding down anyway, with nearly a third of the Lords who’d been there on Leon’s arrival having already left, though half of those who’d left had already been replaced by other Lords—none of whom Jericho had personally welcomed, however. So, as Jericho lowered the sound barrier, Leon found his family and left, though not before saying his goodbye to Archelaus, Gwarim, and some of the other Lords who’d made good impressions on him. He kept those goodbyes brief and departed soon after.
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Basileus Ramin was a name that Leon had heard many times since arriving in the Nexus, but he’d never met the man himself. By Archelaus’ recounting, Ramin had been severely tempted to try and vassalize Leon in the past, but had relented to Archelaus’ suggestion to leave Leon as a useful buffer state against the Ocean Lords—that Leon was trading storm crystal with them was a hefty bonus.
There were many reasons why Ramin hadn’t met Leon, as far as Leon was aware, but the biggest single reason was that his Kingdom, large though it was, was simply not important enough to tear the Basileus away from his own realm out in the planes. Ramin’s territory was based in the Great Strand of Nia, a great strand half the size of Rhea and located on the other side of the universe and far bloodier—the great strand was apparently infested with pirates, rogue powers unaligned with the Nexus, and all manner of horrid Void dwellers. With these threats on his borders, Ramin was unable to spare the time to visit the Nexus that often.
His arrival to Voidshore the day after Jericho’s gala was understated, though still grand enough to be a statement. A dozen arks, one about the size of Storm Herald and the rest barely large enough to be counted as destroyers, berthed at one of Voidshore’s countless docks. There, Archelaus and Illum met the Lord they were sworn to. Leon himself skipped meeting him at the docks since he bore Ramin no allegiance, though he kept an eye on it from afar.
His first glimpse of Ramin was striking—he was a tall man with bronze skin and hard features. His body was toned and lithe, which was easily apparent in his tight black attire decorated with golden lightning bolts running up and down the arms and legs. He wore no jewelry save for an amulet that Leon was amused to see featured a large storm crystal, cut and polished, set in the center of a golden eye. Lightning flashed within the crystal, making it look almost like it contained an entire storm.
Ramin came encumbered with dozens of attendants and hundreds of vassals, though the only one of note was Strategos Ryazos, who was a giant of a man of similar stature to Gwarim, and encased fully in Adamant armor, obscuring his body from view.
Words were exchanged between the Lord and his waiting vassals, and after several minutes, Ramin, Ryazos, Illum, and Archelaus departed the docks and made their way to a small nearby villa. What happened within was of less concern than the city’s next arrival.
A most unusual ark arrived, shaped like an ellipsoid whose surface was perfectly smooth. Made of strange black metal, it was only visible due to the bolts of golden lightning that flickered up and down its surface, and in the way that it trailed storm clouds like black smoke. Nowhere on this unusual ark could Leon see any weapon emplacements or hardpoints, nor were there any visible thrusters—instead, it propelled itself through the black through powers Leon couldn’t sense or identify. This strange and fascinating ark was met on the outskirts of Voidshore and then escorted to a berth close to Ramin’s.
When the ark came to a halt, only a single man exited. He was stern of face and pale of skin, simply dressed and hard of body. He moved like a soldier, with purpose and in straight lines. Most eye-catching was his aura, opaque to all of Leon’s senses, which indicated greater than twelfth-tier power.
No name could Leon attach to this man, but he solidified the relationship with Ramin when he made directly for the very same villa that Ramin and his people entered less than half an hour before. He was greeted warmly at the door, then disappeared within where Leon’s magic senses couldn’t penetrate.
Leon watched the villa for long minutes, but when nothing else happened, he relaxed. Archelaus had told him to expect a quick invitation from Ramin, but it took hours for the man himself to show back up outside of Storm Herald with the formal invitation in hand. By then, Leon had immersed himself in enchanting studies focused on ancient runes, but he dropped everything to prep a party to visit Ramin at his villa, per the invitation.
His party consisted of his family, his Paladins, Clear, and two dozen Tempest Knights. A large entourage given how freely many of the Lords walked through Voidshore, but Leon thought it best to show a bit of strength, given Ramin was a neighbor of sorts.
“A word of warning,” Archelaus said just as they took off from Storm Herald’s pier in the villa’s direction, “Basileus Ramin is in a bit of a mood. He wasn’t happy even before hearing of Iaivi Fortress and Jors-kil’s experience.”
“An attack on that kind of infrastructure is especially notable,” Leon neutrally observed as they took their time leisurely shooting across the sky. “How concerned should I be about his mood?”
Archelaus visibly hesitated before finally saying, “The demands of Anax Alderion have been heavy given the increase in conflict between Halbast and Kamran. Ramin’s territory is far from most other Storm Lords, which leaves him somewhat vulnerable at the best of times. This conflict weakens and deprives him of allies, which a Mountain Lord has already attempted to exploit. The aid of Basileus N’chezzar was the only thing that enabled Ramin to attend the Games this century.”
Leon nodded, filing those facts away for later. “Does he have some special interest in Iaivi Fortress?”
“Not in the fortress itself, but in its Lord: Anax Drenthor is a close friend of his, and both were sworn to Anax Alderion before Drenthor’s ascension to the fourteenth-tier. He takes it personally when a friend of his is attacked, but given the current tensions around who will take the title of Storm King, supporting Drenthor militarily will be… difficult.”
“I’ll keep your warning in mind, though if he’s as enraged by this as you’ve said, then I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Archelaus smiled. “Perhaps you will. Perhaps you will…”
Less than a minute later, they were landing in the villa’s small forecourt, and Leon prepared himself to meet one of the most important Lords yet, at least to Artorion—not to mention that now that Ramin had arrived, their convoy was complete, and they’d soon be leaving Voidshore to continue their journey to Belicenion…
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