Anticipation struck Serana’s heart just as anxiety settled in her stomach like a stone. Storm Herald had passed through the portal into the Nexus not long ago, and they were soon to be in Artorion, the capital of her son’s Kingdom. She was, to put it mildly, eager to see it for herself, and to elevate the moment, she’d refrained from projecting her magic senses too far, choosing to leave her first impression to be made with her eyes.
“Final approach begun,” the voice said from a nearby console, relayed from the ark’s bridge. “Ten minutes from the Northern Talon.”
The command center, once an observation deck, leaped into action, monitoring the arks that made up their small fleet as well as those that rose to meet them. Reports were sent back and forth, checking and rechecking systems and preparing the arks for landing. Through it all, she spied her son and his retinue, acting like the eye of a hurricane. Pride bloomed within her as she saw how easily Leon commanded, not inserting himself into matters that he didn’t have to, while always the center of attention, always present, always watching and listening, always ready to exchange words with anyone who needed his input.
‘He may not consider himself a dragon, but he has the temperament for one…’
Beside her, Nyra cut a much less calm figure than she did, practically buzzing with the same excitement that Serana herself had once experienced when she left her home for the first time. Unlike her, Nyra at least had several Clan members with her, though none of her immediate family. Three who bore the power of the Great Gold Dragon were her escorts, while another dozen drawn from the subjects of their Clan acted as their attendants.
On Serana’s other side was another figure, one whom she hadn’t immediately recognized when first introduced, but who had, in the weeks since her reunion with her son, become something of a shadow to her—Red, as her son had named her. Eleventh-tier, and so human as to almost be mistaken for one, save for the red scales around her eyes, not unlike her Great Red Dragon brothers. Serana had had to be reminded that she’d fought Red at one point while adventuring through Aeterna—she’d fought many wyverns around that time, but she remembered staying with Red for a time, at least.
The wyvern idolized her almost as Nyra did. Serana took it in stride—after all, all dragons were worthy of idolization, let alone the Great Dragons. More personally, she appreciated the wyvern’s deference and eagerness to learn of her distant dragon kin. Though wyverns were heavily degraded forms of two-winged dragons, all dragonkind were creations of the Great Dragons, and so were welcome as honored subjects of the seven Clans.
“Passing Northern Talon now,” the voice said again, and Serana finally turned her attention outward, soaking in this moment for as long as she could. She even moved to the very front of the observation deck, beholding Artorion in all its glory.
They’d been following a long river for several hours, and now, that river cut into a mountain range, forming a wide ring. Below them was a grand fortress, perhaps not as grand as something the Great Black Dragon Clan could build, but more than sufficient to control the river and dominate the flatter lands to the north. And beyond lay the city itself.
Smaller and more utilitarian buildings seemed to be the rule this far north—clearly they were there to support the fortress and help control river traffic entering the Artor Valley. Artorion itself stretched out to the left, filling most of the eastern half of the ring valley, and the sight stole her breath away.
It was late in the day, and the Origin Spark cast the city in a reddish-orange glow. Tall spires glittered like dragon fangs in the center, while the districts around them were a strangely cohesive blend of varying architectural styles. Dense districts built around arenas decorated with lion statues, enormous longhouses surrounded by clouds of hawks, glittering palace complexes of ice further up the eastern mountain slopes close to the city’s many arkyards, deep hollows with splendorous entrances cutting deep into mountain stone…
It was immediately obvious that the ‘Ten Tribes’ that her son had told her about had left their own mark on the city named after her beloved husband, but what tied it all together were wide boulevards replete with magnificent Thunderbird iconography, and enormous forums, squares, and various administrative buildings all recognizably belonging to Leon. The smaller vassal districts existed within a Thunderbird frame, a plan dictated by her son.
In that first moment, she loved it. It was a fitting monument to her husband and to the miracle they’d brought into the world.
It was then that things grew… strange.
Artorion was a city dense with people. The vassal districts only amounted to about half the city, but far, far more than half the city was filled with regular-seeming people to her eyes. But then, flocks of hawks or eagles would land in a square and transform into humans in dramatic fashion. Lions stalked the streets alone or in small prides; spotted jaguars darted through back alleys or across rooftops, moving from place to place as quickly as their powerful animalistic limbs allowed; tigers lazed about in parks and boulevard medians; a herd of gigantic bison nearly stampeded through the wide streets; bears lumbered through meat markets and war beast training yards, herding dozens of different kinds of other, obviously less-intelligent animals; and most disturbingly of all, spiders, dark and almost unnoticeable, scuttled across buildings and up several of the spires.
It was one thing to hear of the power of Leon’s transformation enchantment, but it was another to see it with her own eyes. She’d been frustrated that it hadn’t been working with her, and she’d managed to contact the other Clans during the journey back thanks to her son’s comm lotuses, and learned to her dismay that they were having much the same troubles. But that frustration had nothing on the envy she felt at seeing so many others so close with their Ancestors while she remained so far.
Those thoughts, dark as they were, were torn from her mind as her eyes slid westward and beheld Westmount, the capitol of Artorion. Instinctive fear gripped her as she saw the great nine-peaked mountain floating above a lake of silvery mist, dyed blood red in the light of the Origin Spark, from which she could sense such baleful energies that she had to turn away.
An Aesii. She’d never seen one. For all her adventuring spirit when she was younger, she’d never even entertained the idea of trying to find one. Seeking death was something she was perfectly fine with remaining a metaphor, after all.
And her son had built his palace atop one. ‘Madness…’
After a few short breaths, she was able to better appreciate the mountain for what it was, all while keeping her eyes firmly locked on anything but the lake of mist pooled just beneath it. A golden glow pulsed from within the heavily forested mountain’s interior, occasionally flashing red or purple, while the south side of the mountain was dominated by a grand palace terraced into the slopes. Atop the eastern peak was a grand mausoleum with a winding path winding along the mountain’s edge and connecting it to the palace and the ivy-like fortress at the floating mountain’s southern tip. Aside from all of that, the mountain remained relatively undeveloped, left to remain wild.
The western half of the ring valley was much the same, mostly long stretches of dense forest, in which the only hint of human life was the occasional flash of purple. In some places along the western course of the river that had cut the valley were dense farms growing what Leon had called ‘silkgrass’, most being worked by what appeared to be bronze golems that were far and away too advanced for what her son’s Kingdom seemed able to produce. Rather frustratingly, Leon had hinted at other things he hadn’t immediately told her about, deliberately and notably leaving them unsaid until returning to Artorion. She guessed that this had to do with the ‘giants’ that he’d spoken about, though she’d also heard some of Storm Herald’s crew refer to ‘river nymphs’ like her son’s wife, Maia, and to ‘tree sprites’, which she had yet to see.
As Storm Herald came in to land, even from the observation deck, Serana could almost feel the excitement within the city. Lights had already been strung throughout the largest streets, and in the larger forums, feasts were being prepared. At the largest arkpad, which Storm Herald was clearly going to land on, dozens of shining silver chariots decorated with blue banners and gleaming sapphires waited. As the ark came to a smooth landing, hordes of people within the city rose to meet them, shouting so loudly that they threatened to shake all of the Nexus.
Hawks, Eagles, and Ravens took to the sky easily, flying in ecstatic winged dances thousands of birds strong. Other beasts followed, performing ‘sky dances’ of their own, though in smaller numbers. Lions, Tigers, Jaguars, Bison, Bears, Harts, and Spiders, all at first remaining within their own Tribes, and then as the minutes passed, mingling amongst each other. Along with them, many humans danced both on the ground and in the air in celebration of their King’s return, as did many nine to fifteen-foot-fall giants of bronze, steel, and even some kind of wood, which she found fascinating. Golems, after all, did not move like that—though she’d noticed many of the golems in Storm Herald behaving in strangely human ways…
“Mother,” Leon rumbled from behind her, his voice low as distant thunder.
“Your city,” she murmured as he moved to stand next to her, “it’s perfect.” She turned to give him a glowing smile, feeling genuine pride in what her son had built, even if there wasn’t any sign of Lumenite bands arcing throughout the city, or floating fortresses to project power. There were certainly plenty of arks flying about along the mountain ridgelines, along with terrestrial fortresses, but nothing quite so grand as the most important works that many of the Great Dragon Clans’ most important cities possessed.
Not that she cared. This, her son had built.
“I’m happy to have your approval,” he said. “But now is not the time to see the city from the sky. Now is the time to see it from the streets.” He turned around and began walking toward the observation deck’s exit, and when she turned to follow, she found that most of the deck had already cleared, save for those explicitly waiting for them.
She followed him out, and after her came the rest of those waiting. Through the halls of Storm Herald they went, the anticipation of the crew seeming to double with every step she took. Crewmen lined the walls of the longest halls, stomping as they passed, to her surprise. They had been nothing but professional throughout her entire stay on the ark so far, so to see them acting this way was out of the ordinary, to be sure, though her son only smiled more widely with every stomping and shouting crew member they passed.
Once outside of Storm Herald, Serana was, to her disappointment, placed not in her son’s huge chariot, but in one shared by her, Nyra, and the three Gold Dragons escorting her aureate sister. She at least rode behind her son and his wives, Anzu riding beside them on a white stallion. Behind her and Nyra rode the athletes that participated in the Games, and only behind them came the rest of the leaders that her son had brought with him. Surrounding them was a line of Tempest Knights.
At a signal, their procession made its way down the mountainside and into the city. Throngs of people stomped and shouted in ecstatic glee as they passed, seemingly determined to break through the shell of the Nexus with their joy. They shouted at their King as he passed, showering him and their Queens in their joy. They also passed by many transformed bloodline vassals, and they roared or otherwise made what noises their beastly bodies could produce—the most unsettling of which were the Spiders, who chittered and shrieked—as they passed. Such was their passion that Serana almost thought that some were going to attack, and given the way that Nyra and her escorts tensed, she wasn’t alone. They even passed some of the metal giants, and they rumbled and ‘roared’ metallically, their cavernously deep alien voices resounding in Serana’s chest surprisingly pleasantly.
“What are these people, my everdark sister?” Nyra murmured beside her.
“My son’s people,” Serana replied, noting that, for how alien Artorion so far seemed, she hadn’t detected so much as a whiff of killing intent in the air.
“They are… they seem half-barbarian at best,” Nyra said judgmentally. “And these beasts… are we in a city or are we in the wild?”
“If the transformation worked for us,” Serana replied, “we would rarely leave it, too.”
Nyra pouted and said no more.
Their procession moved at a surprisingly quick clip through the city, passing more than a dozen great monuments that Serana had little context or time to identify. However, all were striking by their beauty, until they finally ended in the largest forum in the city. At one end of the forum was what seemed to be the main entrance to the city’s largest and grandest arena—and even by her standards, Serana found it to be quite magnificent—and at the other was the main boulevard that cut right down the center of the city. Taking a right and going north would take them toward the Northern Talon, while taking a left would take them south initially, and then curve westward to another enormous forum that would go either north to a fortress that looked like it would allow ground access to Westmount, or south to the larger and grander Southern Talon.
With her magic senses, Serana could sense further urban sprawl interspersed with farmland along the river heading out into the King’s Ocean, but for the moment, she put it out of mind. There would be a time to see the rest of her son’s Kingdom, but this wasn’t it.
Leon dismounted his chariot along with his wives. Serana, Nyra, and Nyra’s escorts did likewise, as did the athletes behind them. The man who won the sixth-tier gladiator duels seemed to lead them in this, until Leon passed her by to join them.
Serana was almost offended until Elise approached from behind and stopped beside her, Cassandra doing the same with Nyra.
“We honor those who honored us in the Games,” Elise whispered as Leon, along with several Tempest Knights in their shining armor, took their athletes to a rostrum that had been assembled beforehand. The forum had been quite packed when they arrived, with thousands of people gathered to witness their King and hopefully triumphant athletes, but space had been cleared for the chariots to ride through. As Leon, his knights, and the athletes moved through a relatively narrow path through the crowd, Serana’s heart almost stopped as everyone along the path reached out to brush their hands against him, and he reached out to touch them, in turn.
This didn’t slow them down at all, though, even as the athletes also reached out to the crowd. Soon, Leon reached the rostrum and stood before his Kingdom. Serana could sense his image being projected throughout the city and, she guessed, throughout his lands in the Nexus at the very least. The athletes flanked him, with the winning gladiator to his right holding a shining silver sword that Leon had made on the way back to Artorion.
Leon raised his arms, and the crowd, which had just been stomping and shouting, went suddenly and almost frighteningly silent.
The moment stretched, Leon stood almost frozen, his eyes the only things that moved as they scanned the crowd. Serana found herself holding her breath, tensely waiting for something that she already knew was coming.
And then, at the moment of greatest tension, Leon roared in a thunder-like voice a single word, and the city almost exploded in ecstasy.
“VICTORY!!!”
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