Three centuries. That was the amount of time that Leon had hated Kamran. Three centuries spent hating a name. His father had been dead for that long because of Kamran.
And now, he finally had a face to put to the name and a voice to hear. Kamran had been an idea; he was the death of Artorias, and for all his responsibility for that act, Leon hadn’t quite hated him as a man.
As Kamran was announced and the man himself walked into the hall, smile wide, arms open, drinking in the applause and adulation of most of the other waiting Lords, Leon began to hate.
“My Lords and Ladies!” Kamran boomed, his voice strong, his black eyes glittering like polished obsidian. His attire was simple, if luxurious, all gold and white with little other adornment. He had aristocratically pale features, while his brown hair was stricken with long streaks of glittering silver—a sign of age, it seemed, that his immortal body hadn’t erased, which Leon took to mean that he desired that appearance. A trimmed beard clung to his jaw, making his rounder features look older. The fifteenth-tier Anax needed that bit of physical maturity, for his frame was shorter than average, and lean to the point of having a weaker appearance.
His aura, however, was anything but weak; it filled the hall, blanketing everything and everyone, pressing into them in ways that Johan and Anurak’s did not. While it was too soon to make educated guesses, Leon wondered if Kamran was insecure about something or if this was just how he was all the time.
“Welcome to my home on this day, this most precious of days, this day when we remember our liberation from the tyranny of the Thunderbird Clan!” Kamran smiled broadly, flashing white teeth proudly at everyone in the room. For the briefest of moments, Leon felt the man’s gaze fall upon him, and for that moment, Leon feared that he’d been discovered, that Kamran’s eyes would peel away every speck of light covering his face and reveal him to the world.
And then Kamran’s eyes flitted away, and that particular pressure dissipated. As subtly as he could, Leon breathed a sigh of relief. His disguises, it seemed, were holding.
In the wake of Kamran’s welcome, the room shook from the force of some of the most powerful men and women in the Nexus roaring and clapping their approval. Leon could feel the vibrations in the cool crystal beneath his feet, and he imagined the entire palace island was shaking above Torn Sky.
“My friends!” Kamran continued as the adulations petered out. “And my most esteemed guests!” He smiled warmly to Anurak and Johan, his fellow fifteenth-tier mages—two men who had not joined in the exultations that had taken so many others in the hall. “In millennia past,” Kamran pressed on, “we would have all bowed and scraped to the Thunderbird Storm Kings! Let us now celebrate the anniversary of the end of those days!”
He waved his pale hands, and the doors of the round hall opened. Slaves, beautiful and enticingly dressed in loincloths and, for the women at least, chest coverings, and little else, entered the room carrying plate after enormous plate of food, most of which was so exotic that Leon had no name for it. Creatures steamed on platters surrounded by fruits and vegetables of every shape and color, joined by bottles and bottles of wine and other polychromatic drinks. Most platters were set upon tables close to Leon’s group, while some were taken to the tables, both high and low, where those privileged enough to have a seat in this enormous hall could be served without mingling with their lessers. The food that was there previously, which had been picked over already, was moved to other tables that more slaves carried in, though no new chairs were set. Those currently standing would keep standing, it seemed.
The slaves, after several minutes of filling the room with food, the sights and smells stimulating the hunger in everyone, took up positions at the edges of the hall as if waiting for anyone to need them.
“Eat from my tables,” Kamran thundered. “Revel with me! Let us forget the mundanities and toils of our world for while we’re here, and live as men and women of means should!”
A final roar of adulation sounded, and Leon and his companions had to move a bit to make room for the Lords’ retainers who made for the tables. They were all disguised as pre-Apotheosis mages, after all, and they couldn’t get in the way of true Lords looking to sample Kamran’s hospitality.
But even as he moved, Leon kept Kamran in the corner of his eye. He watched the man as a hawk does a mouse, though he knew that were he to try and swoop upon this unsuspecting creature, he would not be flying away with a meal in his talons.
Valeria squeezed his hand, drawing his attention. The rest of his party were visibly nervous, now, and none moreso than Justin. It took some doing, and Leon cast a glance over his shoulder once more before fully refocusing, but he managed to pry his eyes away from Kamran and still his raging heart. The voice in his head thundering for him to drop all pretense, conjure Iron Pride, and tear open the veil between life and death right then and there so that he could hurl Kamran’s lifeless corpse into a place devoid of sunlight and warmth and anything good in the world was much harder to quiet.
“Kamran’s here,” Leon said after checking that the little bubble of magically-induced privacy was still active around them.
“He… wasn’t supposed to be,” Justin whispered back, his lips barely moving as his disguised face struggled to contain his shock, fear, and hatred all at the same time—something that Leon could, at least, empathize with. “He shouldn’t be,” Justin added. “He leaves himself open! If Halbast were to know that he was gone, then he and Auset would charge! The way would be open for them! Kamran’s front line could collapse without their Anax present to hold it against Halbast, a man who never shies away from battle!”
Alcander responded next, growling pointedly, “Then something is here that is worth more to him than a stable frontline.”
“Those other two, most likely,” Cassandra added. “Are they usually here, celebrating the fall of my husband’s Clan?”
At that comment, Leon double-checked that the little privacy enchantment was working. His sudden spike in heart rate calmed seeing that it was.
“Anakes Anurak and Johan…” Justin whispered, his gaze flickering between them and Kamran seated at the high table, exchanging what seemed like pleasantries from this distance, but would surely turn to more important matters once they were out of this hall. “They are not men of great vision. They are men who desire their own wealth, power, and aggrandizement above anything else. They have sat out the conflict between Halbast and Kamran since the moment it began, conceding nothing to either party. They have thrived without a Storm King to check their power, and have, maybe, harbored thoughts of claiming that long-vacant throne for themselves. If they’re here, then… that might be changing…”
“Kamran’s seeking allies?” Leon asked, his voice hard as iron. “Halbast was losing until Auset joined his cause. Now Kamran’s on the back foot, and he’s looking for similar help?”
“Kamran is a proud man,” Justin stated. “Do not get distracted by any public affability or private humility; he is ruled by his ego and never forgets a slight. He is proud of and confident in his power, and he would not lower himself to seek help lightly.”
“He may be more desperate than you realize,” Leon replied.
Zhang added, “Monarchs grow desperate under desperate conditions. What was once seen as impossible may become necessity.”
“No man can stand alone against powers that exceed him,” Daryun agreed. “When such powers appear, there is only one good solution: find some friends and face those powers together.”
“The Anakes are hardly friends,” Justin argued. “They are rivals at best, and outright hostile at all other times. For two to be here… This goes beyond desperation; this is madness.”
Valeria finally spoke, saying with audible determination, “Madness or not, it doesn’t change what we’re here for. We’re here for Mother, and we will free her!”
An ugly snarl surged onto Justin’s features, and the man fought valiantly to erase it before responding. “I want your mother freed more than almost anyone, my dear girl… but Kamran’s presence demands reevalu—”
“It demands nothing,” Valeria insisted. “It will happen! We can’t leave without her!”
Leon opened his mouth to respond, but he felt the sky fall upon him, the universe itself compressing around his body, focusing in on him until he almost felt like the only thing in the universe to exist—he cast a look over his shoulder and met the black gaze of Kamran himself. The man was silent, no longer exchanging words with the two Anakes to his right and left, and instead was staring directly at him.
A chill entered his blood as his heart skipped a beat. A thousand doubts stampeded through his mind, obliterating any other thoughts that attempted to stop them. Were his defenses breached? Had Kamran seen through them? Had he sniffed out Leon’s power and was now mere seconds away from charging at them, weapon bared, power flared, killing intent crashing upon them with the fury of a million storms?
To Leon’s senses, Kamran rose from his seat slowly, but as he did, the din of the dining hall dimmed to a crushing silence as more and more eyes turned in the direction of Leon’s party. Lords of immense power, all curious of what had drawn Kamran’s attention, and in turn adding the pressure of their own attention to his. Leon’s fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to check his enchanted bracelet. He still wore a disguised face so generic that few would’ve remembered it if they’d only seen it in passing, but that might change soon given the slight wavering he could feel in the way his power flowed through the bracelet. The disguise had a time limit of nearly an entire day, but that would surely diminish the longer it held under such intense magical scrutiny.
But that would surely not matter at all if Kamran knew who they were, or had sussed out that they were present under false pretenses, or otherwise found some excuse to attack them right there in the dining hall.
When Kamran spoke, it crashed upon Leon’s ears like a storm’s worth of thunder, and it took all of Leon’s considerable self-control not to draw Iron Pride and start fighting his way out.
“Come over here!” Kamran called out, waving to the open area in front of the high table, though his eyes never left Leon. “All of you! Come over here!” He smiled, and to Leon’s eyes, he looked like a wolf stalking prey, or a jackal snickering at cornered quarry.
With a mouth drier than the Drum Desert, Leon straightened his back and started walking, placing all of his hope in the possibility that this was nothing, that Kamran hadn’t noticed anything that would identify him.
Over the course of a heart-pounding eternity that was over all too quickly, Leon crossed the blue-floored hall and stood in front of Kamran’s high table, the rest of his party fanned out behind him. Even though Justin was supposed to be their leader for their cover, he’d fallen in behind Leon without a word of fuss.
From above them, behind the gilded high table, Kamran stared down at them like a god surveying disobedient worshippers. His black gaze was cold, and there was no trace of mirth in his round face.
But then, his beard bent as the lips behind the hair curled upward.
“You lot marched like you were going to war,” he observed, amusement tinging his words. “Seen much battle, have you?”
Quietly, though his voice still carried to every corner of the round room, Leon answered succinctly, “Yes.”
Kamran waited a beat, seemingly for Leon to continue, and when he didn’t, he laughed, and many others in the room followed suit. Then, he fixed Leon in his sharp gaze again. “You also employed privacy wards beneath my roof. Do you fear my hall? Do you not trust in my guarantee of safety for all guests? Nothing will harm you here, you should know…”
The silence was deafening as everyone stared at Leon, wondering how he would respond, or amused at this ‘weak’ mage being called out by such an august figure.
“Old habit,” Leon finally said. “Apologies for causing any offense.”
Again, Kamran laughed as he leaned over the table, his eyes raking over Leon’s entire party—though they lingered longer than Leon liked on Nestor.
“There was no offense taken,” Kamran calmly said. “Please, relax, all of you. This is no battlefield. At least, not one of swords and armor…” Amusement rippled outward, eliciting a few chuckles from the watching Lords and their multitude of retainers. “Please, my guests, introduce yourselves to everyone here, and let us know for what honorable reason you have come to grace my hall this day?”
A quick swallow to fight the growing lump in his throat and a subtle shaking of his arms to alleviate the burning and the tingling as lightning surged through his blood, and Leon answered, “We are from the city of Antiochus, Lord. We have come to lay tribute at your regal feet.” He paused a moment before the gears in his head shifted and he remembered to give his assumed name. “I am Kyron, son of Inilos.”
“Well, Kyron, son of Inilos,” Kamran said, “be at ease in my hall. All guests that have come to me with righteous hearts and noble intentions are placed under my protection, and have nothing to fear within these walls.”
Leon’s fingers twitched, curling as if around an invisible sword, while Leon fought to keep his power from spilling out and giving him away as far more powerful than he appeared.
“Antiochus,” Kamran continued, “is a beautiful city. I have filled my stores with many barrels of your finest wines, and I have received nothing but compliments when it is served in my halls. I believe a few bottles have even been brought out today.”
“Antiochus is flattered by your patronage,” Leon answered diplomatically, “and humbled by your praise.”
“Humility is a virtuous trait,” Kamran stated, his tone hardening in a way that Leon recognized as a man about to make a point, “but servility can excise the virtue out of humility. Is a city defying the order of its Anax a humble thing to do?”
It was a leading question; a blind man could see that, but Leon had to respond anyway with Kamran glaring down at him. “No, Lord.”
“No,” Kamran confirmed, “it is not. And did I not announce an order three months ere for the suspension of tributes?”
Leon’s face paled slightly, but his disguise was unchanged. ‘Is this it?’ he wondered. ‘Days spent memorizing maps and creating these disguises and working with Justin’s men… and it’s the tribute that gets us caught?’
But then Dionysias took a sip from his wine goblet and set it back on the table, the clearly deliberate clink of the golden vessel against his plate audible in the silence following Kamran’s question. Kamran’s eyes flickered, his head inclining slightly until he could see Dionysias out of the corner of his eye, and then his eyebrows rose, and a smile broke wide across his face.
“Ah, forgive me, Kyron, I had almost forgotten that the Nexus had, to my regret, been exempt from that order!” His expression turned apologetic. “The unfortunate realities of war that our enemies have foisted upon us, I’m afraid. All must contribute to our defense; I’ve even sold many of my own possessions to help fund our valiant forces as they fight against the vile Halbast and Auset.” He took a breath as if to continue, but halted for a moment that was over so quickly that Leon was sure only he and the other most powerful mages in the room caught it. “I was going to exempt you from the tribute right here,” the Anax said, “but I’ll admit I’m curious what you’ve brought…”
Leon stiffly answered, “Two boxes of storm crystal, Lord, that weigh as much as two full-grown men.”
An impressed whisper ran through the hall as even Anurak and Johan’s eyes widened.
“Storm crystal…” Kamran whispered, his black gaze turning westward for just a moment. “A rare gift so far east. I…” He paused and fixed Leon in his gaze once again. “Your tribute is most welcome, Kyron, and will be honored with gifts of my own for your people in Antiochus. It could not have been easy to acquire such a quantity of material.”
“It was not,” Leon responded evenly.
Kamran continued smiling before taking a deep breath through his nose. Then, his hand went to his forehead, and he said, “Ah, here I am rambling about tributes and safety, but I nearly skipped over why I called you over!” He leaned over the table again, and again, his eyes went to Nestor before flitting back to Leon. “I noticed your golem, and to be upfront, I haven’t seen golem craftsmanship of such quality in… many years. The last engineer of such skill that I know of is long dead. I simply must know how and where you acquired such a magnificent machine, and whether or not you’ll sell this one to me!”
Leon opened and closed his mouth several times, stunned that of all the reasons for Kamran to have called them over, it was Nestor that had caused it. He shot the dead man a glance, and to his surprise, Nestor’s body loosened as he returned Leon’s gaze.
“I am no slave,” Nestor said, his voice echoing from wall to wall, reaching every ear between the azure floor and golden roof.
Kamran fully turned his gaze upon the man in the machine, his eyes wide, shock writ large across his pale features, as fevered whispering broke out for several seconds in the rest of the hall.
“You…” Kamran whispered, his eyes scanning Nestor from top to bottom. The frame was lithe, far too thin for even the thinnest of men to fit within. Nestor could not possibly have been mistaken for a man in a suit of armor. “What are you?”
“A magic body in an adapted golem frame,” Nestor answered smoothly, far more naturally than Leon had throughout the exchange with Kamran.
Kamran laughed in revelation. “Ha! That makes sense! That makes so much sense! What is your name?”
“Rosten,” Nestor answered.
“Rosten…” Kamran repeated. “I will remember your name, Rosten. I will ask to speak with you later, and I hope you will oblige me. I am an enchanter myself, you know, and I’m hoping we might have some words to exchange on the subject…”
“An enlightening exchange it will surely be,” Nestor responded.
Kamran smiled broadly, warmly, affability radiating from him more strongly than his fifteenth-tier aura. “Thank you, my Antiochian friends! Please, eat and drink! We will speak again shortly! Ah, and don’t worry about your tribute right now! There will be a time for that later!”
The dismissal was clear, and it took Leon every ounce of strength he had in his body to force himself to lower his head to Kamran and turn away; he and his companions returned to where they had been standing before, all under the intense scrutiny of the other Lords in the hall. They were not going to be able to fade into the background anymore, it seemed.
Kamran did not return to his seat, but instead, after sharing a look with Anurak and Johan, spoke again after Leon’s group returned to their place.
“There is one more thing,” he said loudly, and Leon was thankful that he at least seized attention back from Leon’s group. Kamran, practically glowing with excitement and what looked almost like anxiety, announced through a stiff smile, “My ward, Ariana, shall be making her debut during these celebrations! After we feast, and the storm show in the evening, she will be presented to all of you, and take part in the dancing and nighttime celebration!”
A hush fell over the hall as Kamran leaned forward once again, whispering almost conspiratorially despite his words still reaching every ear. “If she takes a liking to one of you, then I may be inviting you to marriage negotiations after this festival is over…”
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