The deck of the ark was made of beautiful, aromatic wood, with a dark grain that formed subtle arcane lines. Whatever tree the planks had been cut from was specifically grown in this way, showing a mastery over nature magic that only the tree sprites in Leon’s Kingdom would match.
All of these details were utterly lost on Leon, however, as he struggled against the monumental weight of Esmerelda’s aura. The Gale Queen herself, dramatically strolling out from below deck in what could only have been a prearranged ambush, was apparently invested enough in Ingrid, Mikaela, and Vrothgar’s relationship drama to involve herself personally, and from what Leon could sense, she was loving every damned second of it.
Being forced to the ground was humiliating enough, inspiring wrath Leon had rarely felt, but it was sensing the revelry on Esmerelda’s face as Mikaela explained herself to her Queen—no doubt giving a highly biased and self-serving story, but Leon left it to Ingrid to argue for herself—that caused the war drum that was his heart to begin thumping. For Ingrid, this matter was deeply personal, but for him, it had only been a favor for a friend and a possible future vassal. This humiliation made it personal for him, too.
His muscles strained as his joints popped. Lightning surged through his body, filling him with power and strength. Anger burned within him as hot as lightning, and blood thumped in his ears in time with his heart, drowning out everything else around him. He clenched his teeth together so hard that the rational part of his psyche, banished to the back of his mind, worried they might crack.
With strength worthy of a Despot, Leon raised his thigh, pushing himself up enough to get a knee under his torso. He groaned as the aura around him thickened, but he allowed origin power to slip through his heart and enter his body, empowering him even further. He pushed against the deck, the enchantments within straining mightily, and the wood beneath him began to crack and bend.
Someone was speaking, presumably at him, but given the condescending tone, he paid the words no mind. Instead, with fury directing his focus, sharpening his will, a trace of his power exited his body and coiled through the air. For an instant, a silver-blue rune took shape, burning so brightly that all who beheld it either had to look away or have it scald their eyes.
‘Shield’, it read.
In that instant, the pressure on Leon evaporated, the rune responding to Leon’s silent demand for Esmerelda’s aura to flee from him like the wind after a storm. He launched himself to his feet, only to come face-to-face with the Gale Queen herself, standing uncomfortably close to him, her pale gray eyes gleaming like diamonds.
She was just a hair shorter than he was, with sparkling blond hair and noble, refined features. Her body was the opposite of her cousin’s; where Mikaela was generous and soft, her body tight only where it needed to be, Esmerelda was built like an athlete all over. Her fine clothes were form-fitting, showing off her extreme degree of fitness, while in her eyes, Leon could see a hardness behind the gleam, and in her aura, he could sense a hint of potent killing intent. The Gale Queen was gorgeous, but she was thin, wiry, and clearly ready for battle.
Her aura didn’t return after Leon’s rune winked out, but Leon didn’t back down. He met the Gale Queen’s gaze, origin power filling his body, wrath filling his mind, and prepared himself for a fight…
“… Who are you?” she asked sweetly, her voice cutting through the boiling fury in Leon’s mind like a scythe reaping wheat.
“Leon Raime, last scion of the Thunderbird Clan,” boldly responded Leon. Faintly, he could hear a few hushed gasps, and several watching notables leaned in to whisper amongst themselves, their eyes locked on Leon.
“Are you?” Esmerelda condescended. “That bloodline was severed more than ten thousand years ago.”
“It wasn’t,” Leon stated, elaborating not at all.
Esmerelda met his gaze unwaveringly, her aura starting to return, though without the same weight as before. Instead, it surrounded Leon, probing, taking his every measure.
“There’s… more, isn’t there?” inquired the Gale Queen, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in slightly until their faces were mere inches apart. “I can feel it… What other powers exist in your body…?” She raised a hand, and Leon tensed, his instinctive attempt to lean back hampered by the morass of the woman’s aura. He would resist if she attacked, but the power that gathered around her hand wasn’t intense enough for that.
Power swirled around her hand like a twister, and though it didn’t manifest visibly, Leon felt a rune take shape, ancient and complex, and the magic around him suddenly froze.
“Definitely more…” A hungry look passed over the Gale Queen’s face for a moment, but Mikaela shifted behind her, momentarily drawing her attention.
“Cousin…” the overly-generously proportioned woman whispered, uncertainty inundating both syllables.
In an instant, Esmerelda’s aura retracted, and she stepped away from Leon, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Beside him, Ingrid had managed to force herself up to her knees after the Gale Queen’s aura had receded, but only now was she able to properly rise. Wrath equal to Leon’s could be felt in her aura, but she kept her mouth shut even as her eyes flitted between Mikaela and Esmerelda.
“Sometimes, I find the Belicenian Games to be a chore,” Esmerelda admitted as she strolled over to the edge of the ark, her diamond eyes sweeping across the horizon before returning to the three still standing in the center of the gathered mages. “This time,” she continued with relish, “is proving to be more entertaining than I thought.”
A second blooming of wrath loosened Leon’s lips. “I am not here to entertain you.” The words were spoken viciously, but the Gale Queen was unfazed.
“All the universe is here to entertain me,” she scornfully replied. “Mikaela, dear, why don’t you start again? What was all of this for?”
Mikaela, looking a little perturbed, hesitantly explained, “I… took a new husband. And this jealous bitch couldn’t abide our love…” Leon imagined there was more passion and exaggerated detail in her first recounting, but he’d been too busy picking his face off the floor to pay attention.
“And you?” Esmerelda’s eyes turned upon Ingrid, who stiffened slightly. However, her aura wasn’t so weighty anymore that Ingrid couldn’t form words; she was still a Despot, and her power and pride wouldn’t allow her to back off even in the face of one of the strongest mages in the universe.
“Vrothgar is my husband!” she declared for the entire ark to hear. “He was taken, and he absconded with arks and officers!”
Ingrid looked like she wanted to continue, but Esmerelda brought the back of her hand to her forehead and exclaimed, “Such drama! The unbridled pathos! You may be worth more than a moment of entertainment, my dear…” Like a starving wolf sizing up a fat hen, Esmerelda’s eyes feasted upon Ingrid before finally turning to Leon. “What part do you play, Leon Raime, ‘Last Scion of the Thunderbird Clan’?”
“Supportive friend and comrade.” The words came with restrained vehemence, and it took more self-control than Leon had thought himself capable of summoning in that moment not to spit the words like phlegm at the Gale Queen’s feet.
Laughter carried over the ark, light and musical as wind chimes. But soon, the laughter turned to mere giggles, and then Esmerelda reclaimed control over herself. “I have my cast, and what wonderful parts you do play!”
“This is no act!” Leon retorted.
“For you, I’m sure. Proceed.”
The wind, already fairly strong at their altitude, picked up as Esmerelda waited expectantly, apparently choosing to refrain from taking action. For their parts, Mikaela and Ingrid’s eyes soon turned in each other’s direction, but neither immediately spoke. The day, it seemed, had not gone as either had planned, and with Esmerelda present, adapting to the change in circumstances came slowly.
“A duel,” Leon said, the words terse but striking as violently as a thunderbolt. “Honor must be satisfied.”
“A duel!” Esmerelda exclaimed. “Unsurprising for a Storm Lord, but befitting your nature.”
Her words were hard to ignore, but Ingrid again showed her mettle by doing just that. She fixed Mikaela in her dark gaze, red-gold sparks flashing around her fingers and head, and directly said, “Before all the universe, Vrothgar, my husband of centuries, I challenge you to a duel. You have done our family irreparable harm, and I will have restitution by the blade!”
Mikaela looked a little awkward since while the challenge wasn’t made to her, Ingrid’s eyes hadn’t wavered from her. But the Basilissa’s eyes did wander, passing from Ingrid to Leon, back again, shifting to Vrothgar, and then scanning the watching crowd, all watching in fascination like it was a play being put on for their amusement.
No bolt nor clap of thunder that Leon had ever summoned was nearly so loud as the silence in the wake of Ingrid’s challenge. Her former husband, despite being the subject of her challenge, was looking more and more nervous, and he kept looking to Mikaela for help. It took an eternity and a half for his silent pleas to be answered.
“The terms?” Mikaela asked.
“Belicenian standard for honor, two-versus-two,” hissed Ingrid. “Fight to submission, not death. I want this unfaithful bastard to beg for my forgiveness, to prostrate himself before me like the worm that he is. And you, for your part in this affair, I demand compensation!” Ingrid’s eyes had remained locked on Mikaela so far, but they finally swiveled to Vrothgar. “Our daughter, still a toddler, will now grow without her father!”
The confidence Mikaela had shown before, shaken by Esmerelda’s reaction to Leon barely overcoming her aura, returned after Ingrid stated no interest in fighting to the death. “I can provisionally accept these terms,” she stated. “I will, of course, be my darling Vrothgar’s second. And yours? Will your support be this mongrel? Seems fitting given both of you are so tainted…”
Ingrid almost visibly bit her tongue to keep from replying. She turned to Leon, as did almost everyone else on the deck. Despite this pressure and the apparent confidence coming from Mikaela, he didn’t hesitate a single moment.
“Yes, I will fight as Despotissa Ingrid’s second,” he declared.
Any further additions by anyone were interrupted when Esmerelda clapped her hands together, sending a shockwave rolling over the deck. No one was hurt, but several of the weaker mages were thrown off their feet.
“Brilliant! Lovely! Fantastic! I must see this to the end! Tomorrow! The duel will be tomorrow!”
“Cous…!” Mikaela’s cry was strangled off when she met the Gale Queen’s gaze.
“Tomorrow,” Esmerelda repeated. “I command it to be so. Little Anu will make it so.”
“Y-Yes,” said Mikaela in a shaky, uncertain tone.
Esmerelda smiled beatifically, then sauntered back over to Leon. “It’s time to exit stage left, Leon Raime. But before you go… don’t blame me for seeking a little spoiler…” She approached, and Leon stood firm, but he realized it was a mistake when the Gale Queen stepped into his personal space, pressed her nose into his neck, and deeply inhaled. He instinctively stepped back, but the Gale Queen revealed a grip of iron by grabbing his arm and raising it to her face. Pushing back his sleeve, she pressed his skin to her lips, and he felt wetness at the contact.
When he ripped his arm away, she let it go, her diamond eyes sparkling with greater intensity than the night sky itself. Her face aglow with anticipation, she took on an imperious air and declared, “That was your cue. Prepare well for your next scene, Leon Raime, scion of the Thunderbird.”
As the Gale Queen stepped away, Ingrid stepped up and laid a hand, soft as silk, upon Leon’s arm—notably not the one Esmerelda had sampled. A silent tug took them into the air, and they left, Leon’s mind reeling from the direction the challenge had gone…
---
“She bit you?!” exclaimed Cassandra. “Is she a cannibal?!”
“It wasn’t a bite,” said Leon, his face nonetheless contorted in distaste. He’d washed his arm the moment he was back on Storm Herald, but his mind still lingered on the Gale Queen’s tone as she’d dismissed him. “But… I think she still got more than I was willing to reveal from it.”
“How much?” Valeria asked as she and Elise finished preparing a cleansing salve, the latter wasting no time in scrubbing the arm in question.
A tired sigh escaped from Leon’s lips, and though he and his family were alone, he couldn’t quite answer.
“Too much,” Elise translated, though none of his ladies needed the translation. “How much will she tell others, do you think?”
“Too much,” Cassandra angrily repeated.
[The mad are always the most unpredictable,] Maia countered. [There’s a good chance she’ll keep whatever she gleaned to use later.]
“A disturbing thought,” Elise said with palpable worry.
“The Gale Lands are distant from the Storm Lands, so she probably won’t be an immediate threat,” Cassandra pointed out. “I’m more concerned about what she was doing there in the first damned place!”
“Bored, I think,” Leon speculated. “Someone at her level is old and has likely seen everything, or so they might think. The Thunderbird has often told me that the greatest threat to an immortal being was boredom and apathy, not the blades of their enemies.”
“And mad,” Valeria added. “A dangerous combination.”
“We’ll deal with it, whatever it is,” Leon said confidently. “I’m sure this duel is going to be bigger than it should be, though, especially now that she’s involved herself.”
“What are the details?” Elise asked as she dried off Leon’s arm and pressed her lips against his skin, as if to reclaim her territory.
“Ingrid’s still getting the details,” Leon replied. “Duels here are heavily regulated. The Sun King will decide time and place, then enforce the terms. I believe he will even dictate some of the terms—or at least, some appointed bureaucrat will. Ingrid didn’t even state how much ‘compensation’ she wanted. Regardless, with the Gale Queen herself involved, I’m expecting an undue amount of attention.”
Elise laid a hand on his cheek, drawing his eyes to her. “We’ll deal with it,” she repeated, and he couldn’t help but smile in response.
“We will,” he agreed. No matter what tempest the Gale Queen kicked up, he wasn’t going to let it blow away a single thing that he’d built.
---
The roar of the crowd was intense, and though the arena wasn’t completely full, the earth beneath it shook with the crowd’s excitement. It shook even more from the magical blasts being thrown around by the combatants—a Burning Lord and an Ocean Lord, two old rival Strategoi who’d brought their conflict to Belicenion.
‘And now, hopefully, they can begin their journey to reconciliation,’ Anushirawan thought as he watched from the highest box. The stands were filled with each Lord’s friends and followers, and even a couple dozen other Lords who’d come out to support their respective friend or fellow Lord. Despite the presence of these Lords, the duel hardly merited his personal attention—or so his subordinates liked to claim—but almost as much as the Games themselves, the Sun King reveled in personally overseeing these duels.
As he watched, he felt a fell wind blow through the box. He liked to be as approachable as a man in his position could be, so there were no windows or barriers of any kind separating him from the arena, which was his way of leaving it open for any Lord to come and sit with him, and see from his perspective the method he’d chosen to foster peace in the universe.
To his regret, none had yet taken up his unspoken offer since the day before, when he had shared a stimulating discussion with a Shadow Anax, but until that wind blew in, he hadn’t regretted leaving the box open.
“Little Anuuuuu,” the musical voice of his guest trilled, and he suppressed the shudder that ran down his spine. He liked to think that he had immense patience, but this woman tested even that…
“Queen Esmerelda,” he replied. He didn’t shift focus from the duel below, not even when the woman herself appeared in his peripheral vision and, pouting, pinched his arm.
“You know what you’re supposed to call me! I’m your big sister!”
“No, you’re not,” he said, tired of her presence already. “You just decided to take that role upon yourself.”
She tittered softly, saying, “I could play another role for you, if you want… Mother, maybe? Or wife?”
He ignored her coquettish act, for he knew it was an act. Besides, his heart belonged to the woman he was already married to, and he had long ago determined to never stray. “While I would never deny a visitor from seeking me, I’m curious as to what brought you here.”
“A scene!” she declared. “One of love and violence! The stage? This arena! The performers? My cousin and her newest stagehand against a pair of Storm Lords! I want it to happen tomorrow!”
“There are other duels tomorrow,” the Sun King said tiredly.
“They can wait,” Esmerelda spiritedly replied. “Make it happen! I have to see how it plays out! Everything has to be perfect! The stage, the performers, even the audience! I’ve already sent invitations!”
Finally, Anushirawan turned his eyes from the duel and settled on the flighty woman beside him. He said nothing, communicating everything he felt in his glare.
She met his glare with one of her own. “Do it. Do it. Don’t make me wait. I can ruin your Games and ravage the Sun Lands if you don’t.”
For a moment, Anushirawan considered denying her request just on principle. However, he knew her better than any other Elemental King, and he knew that she was serious; she absolutely would go to war over this. She had in the past, after all.
“Midday,” he said. “I’ll oversee it personally. This arena? Or a larger one?”
The arena they were in could hold up to five hundred thousand, making it a large arena, though hardly the largest on Belicenion. That arena was located much closer to the center of the plane, just off his palace, and could seat over five million. The space within was so great that a mortal would struggle to see anything that happened within it. The only thing that Anushirawan disliked about it was that it was so large that it was only ever used during the Belicenian Games, sitting unused for the rest of the century.
Esmerelda hummed in thought before turning her glittering gaze westward. “Inciterin. That one.”
Anushirawan followed her gaze until his attention landed on Inciterin theater. It was an amphitheater built into an entire mountain range. It overlooked an expansive grassland in which hundreds of herds of buffalo roamed in an illusion of freedom. Every so often, they’d be culled to help feed the plane’s large population. He’d originally wanted the theater to be large enough to seat two million, but he’d been informed that it would never be filled since crowds large enough to fill it would look for a proper arena closer to the center of the plane. In the end, he’d compromised by only making it large enough to seat just under a million.
Given the location and general nature of the theater, it was rarely used for duels and was only rarely a venue for his Games. It was certainly open, though he’d have to hurry to get its safety enchantments reinspected, given he doubted any ‘scene’ planned by Esmerelda would be anything less than spectacularly destructive…
“Fine,” he finally answered. “Tomorrow. Midday. Give my people the details.”
Esmerelda’s face lit up with excitement as she skipped away, off to let the wind blow her to wherever it might take her and leaving him to return his attention to the duel below. However, he found it oddly difficult as the possibility of just what Esmerelda had planned percolated in his brain.
‘I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow,’ he thought, deciding not to ask his organizers about it until the time came. ‘Why ruin the surprise? I’m sure it’ll be terrible and fascinating all at once…’
—-
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