As much as Leon wanted, he couldn’t spend the entire day with Valeria. She was leaving later, and she had to get her own affairs in order, which meant meetings upon meetings with her own staff—largely consisting of former Tempest Knights and ladies from the Tribes—and making sure that her lower officers were ready to go. He’d see her again before the day was done, but he had other business to attend to, first.
The big bit of business was Jericho. The Anax had arrived several days ago to solidify their deal for storm crystal. Since Leon was readying his invasion fleets, however, he hadn’t yet been able to truly welcome the fourteenth-tier mage to his city. So, Leon began making his way through the trapezoidal halls of Westmount Palace toward the terrace where he’d seen Jericho loitering with a handful of his adjutants.
As Leon walked, his entourage grew. Within his family’s private chambers, he didn’t need an escort, but once he left, as a King, he needed at least a few hangers-on. That meant that Paladins were waiting by the hall connecting the private chambers to the rest of the palace at all times, not just to wait for him but also to guard his family’s innermost sanctum.
Today, those Paladins were Zhang and Daryun.
“Leon,” Daryun said with a confident smile. “Heading out?”
“Meeting with Jericho,” Leon said. “No violence, but I’m sure at least some of his followers are going to be… rude.” He’d seen them from above, looking upon his city and palace with sour expressions. Not many, most were fairly indifferent to the view, but it only took one man to ruin a political treaty—something he was more than aware of.
“They won’t harm so much as a speck of dirt on the terrace,” Zhang stated gravely, his eleventh-tier aura shining in Leon’s magic senses. “Upon my honor.”
Leon caught himself as he was about to tell Zhang to relax. That was certainly something he could do, but by this point, he thought he understood Zhang fairly well. The man needed a degree of structure and ritual to thrive, and while it was Leon’s instinct to let the man be informal when not in public, Zhang always seemed relatively uncomfortable with it.
“Few would I rather have at my back,” Leon said as he and his two Paladins approached the magically reinforced thunder wood door. The Tempest Knights that had been with Leon surged forward to open it, giving Leon a moment to inspect the two men behind him.
The position of Paladin was an important one in his Kingdom. As with the Bull Kingdom, the position didn’t come with inherent authority over anyone else, nor were the Paladins strictly speaking his bodyguards—that was one of the formal jobs of the Tempest Knights. But the Paladins were meant to be his closest warriors, the men and women he trusted most, and as such, could act as his eyes, hands, and voice when he couldn’t be physically present. They had authority, but only so much as he gave when he sent them away. When they weren’t sent away, they remained with him as his personal retinue, fulfilling much the same role that his friends had during his time at Heaven’s Eye.
As much as this was meant to be an honor and highly coveted position, something for others to aspire to be, it also presented him with something of a problem: adding so many people to this new, powerful rank wasn’t taken too well out amongst his Kingdom, as he’d learned after returning from the Games. Some among the Tribes took it as an insult to have Zhang and Daryun, in particular, raised to such lofty heights when they had been with Leon for two centuries.
Thankfully, less was said about Marcus, Alix, Anzu, and Anna, all of whom had been with Leon for much longer and were more well-known among his people. It was truly Zhang and Daryun who were the problems.
Leon had assuaged some of those concerns by promising to make a handful of new Paladins drawn from his longest and most loyal supporters, but had also made it clear that the position of Paladin was meant to be exclusive, even moreso than that of Tempest Knight. The number of Paladins would never become numerous.
His first—and so far, only—pick for Paladin was Lana, daughter of Tillan of the Rock-Mane Bison. He knew her well enough, and she was cordial with his family, so she made for an easy choice. Though she still needed considerable training and time spent with his family before she could be fully taken into confidence.
As for Zhang and Daryun, Leon had taken the lessons that his ‘elders’ had so often given him to heart: power was the key to everything. Leon had forced Daryun and Zhang to train harder than any of his other Paladins and provided them with more ambrosia than anyone else outside of his own family. While all of his Paladins, save for Lana, were now post-Apotheosis, Zhang and Daryun had truly done the work to get there, their own grit and determination pushing them as much as Leon.
Now, ten years later, their power was undisputable, and their positions consequently stable. It was harder for anyone to argue with post-Apotheosis mages than it was when they were ‘only’ ninth and tenth-tier, respectively.
Zhang and Daryun were becoming particularly well-known among his people, Leon having gone out of his way to ensure that they were seen with him whenever he went out into the city or visited a more distant holding. To aid in their recognizability, and thus be more accepted, he’d forged for them brand new armor.
For Zhang, he made a suit of silvery plate armor, the Adamant gleaming so brightly that he’d heard a rumor spread by some in his Kingdom that the armor had been made from spun moonlight. Even now, years later, simply knowing that the rumor existed brought a smile to his face. It was always nice to get some recognition for a skill.
Daryun, in contrast, was made a suit of dark plate armor that seemed to devour all light that fell upon it. A red horsehair plume spilled from his helmet, made from shed tail hairs of Scarlet Star, his steed when he was yet a Lord on Demetrion. That splash of color was joined by a few lines of gold at the joints.
Both suits of armor had been made from the finest materials that Leon possessed and had been packed with every enchantment that he could stuff within. While he believed that Iron Pride was his finest work despite having been forged so long ago, Daryun and Zhang’s armor were more technically impressive, if he were being honest with himself. He’d done similar for the rest of his friends, family, and closest supporters, but Daryun and Zhang’s kit were the first of this latest round of creation to be finished.
They strode through the halls behind him, his white and black shadows, their loyalty unquestioned, their power resplendent. When Leon reached the terrace where Jericho was whiling away his time, the Tempest Knights hung back, but Zhang and Daryun joined him as he walked out into the perfectly kept gardens.
“Anax Jericho,” Leon called out.
“Basileus Leon,” Jericho replied with an easy smile as he turned to face Leon. “What marvelous timing you have; I was just about to come and find you.”
“Oh? I hope for nothing serious?” Leon leaned against the low wall at the edge of the terrace, one arm resting on the dark gray stone while he turned to face Jericho. Jericho himself faced out from the terrace, his eyes scanning the innumerable arks assembled in the skies south of the Artor Valley.
“It’s… Well, let me just ask you about this force you have down there in the south. If you’re willing to indulge me, what are you planning to do with it?”
Smirking, Leon answered, “That depends.”
Jericho, still leaning on the wall, mirrored Leon by turning to face him. “On what?”
“On you. We agreed on a deal for storm crystal, but we still have other business to hammer out.”
“Indeed. Do you recall why I was delayed in coming here to follow through on that offer for your storm crystal?”
“Instability on your borders out in the planes?”
“Something like that. In the past ten years, Despot Pankratios and Strategoi Uthman and Jurgen have been killed by Burning Lords. Good Storm Lords they were, but now they are too far down the Aesii to have any cares for this world left. This leaves me in a precarious position, made even more so by reports I’ve received of mysterious arks flying through Lorgos’ Voidspace.”
Leon frowned slightly. Lorgos was the Lord who ruled the part of the Great Strand of Rhea that was connected to the Great Strand of Ionis. It would be difficult for Lorgos to threaten Jericho directly, but he could still cut the man off from trade with Rhea, or, as Jericho was implying was the case, he could open his territory up for other powers to get at Jericho through the connecting strands.
“Do they remain mysterious?” Leon asked seriously.
“For now. Their profiles don’t match any arks I’m familiar with, and I’m familiar with many. It would be… convenient for me if someone took Lorgos’ place.”
“As you indicated back on Belicenion.” Leon gave Jericho an entrepreneurial smile. “But I’m not entirely sure that I should be making enemies of fellow Storm Lords. Even ones of a ‘mercenary’ bent, as you claimed.”
“It was no mere claim,” Jericho insisted. “I assure you that Lorgos would sell his own mother for a mere fraction of her weight in Aurichalcum. To let someone else through his territory? There’s a price for that. What he doesn’t have a price on… is hunting down those with Inherited Bloodlines.”
Leon cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “You didn’t mention that before.”
“I didn’t want to be crass. But it’s true: you are anathema to Lorgos’ entire worldview. Getting rid of him will do a great service not just for me, but also for you.” Jericho leaned in, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial level such that Leon had to lean in slightly to hear him properly. “What do you say, Leon? Are you willing to do this? I’d be most happy to have a more reliable neighbor in Rhea…”
Chuckling, Leon responded, “I’m considering it. My fleets, as you can see, are ready to begin their initial push into Rhea. Even if I were to agree, it would take time to reach Lorgos’ territory, let alone fight all the way to the connecting strands to Ionis.”
“What I’ve come to expect from Lords—and it’s something I’ve even noticed in myself, which I have attempted to rectify—is that immortality changes the way we see the world. A mortal might take a few minutes to do something, while an immortal might take five hours, or five years, or even longer, to do that same thing. We tend to move more slowly than our followers would prefer. What I’m saying, my friend, is that we have all the time in the world, and there isn’t much downside to waiting, digging in, taking the time to make sure one’s forces are as powerful as they can be. I can wait for you since it seems Lorgos is sating his greed by charging whichever group is sailing through his black. This… won’t always be the case. But I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see so many of your warriors assembled when I arrived.”
A hint of insincerity rang in Jericho’s voice. Something about it wasn’t adding up—how much of a threat was Lorgos, really? It seemed like he wasn’t being an active threat to Jericho right now… Though Leon supposed that he’d likely act first against a potential threat if he felt that conflict was inevitable, too.
“Are these all the arks and warriors you’ll bring to bear?” Jericho asked. “I see that you have more of those fantastic suits and war golems out there, too. And no shortage of war beasts, I see.”
“This is the tip of the spear,” Leon elucidated. “They will be doing most of the conquering. More fleets will follow to hold any territory seized.”
“That’s more reassuring. As large as this force is, it isn’t large enough to hold the vast Voidspace within an entire Great Strand. Will they be moving to support my position, or should I not expect to see them breaking down Lorgos’ door when they get there?”
Leon dramatically stroked his smoothly shaved chin and regarded Jericho with an amused glint in his golden eyes. “Will you fulfill the terms that you specified on Belicenion?”
“Without question, yes.” The answer was as swift as it was, at least on its face, truthful.
Giving Jericho the benefit of the doubt, given how much storm crystal he’d just bought, which brought Leon’s Kingdom no small amount of wealth, Leon smiled and extended an arm. “Then let us consider each other as allies.”
“HAHA!” Jericho thundered. “It has been too long since I last stood alongside a Thunderbird in battle!” His obvious and rather infectious glee was almost immediately tamped down on, though not done away with entirely. Smiling wolfishly, he said, “Not to say that I hope that such a thing happens soon, but… should we fight together, side-by-side, I wouldn’t complain. I yet owe your Clan a debt that I aim to repay.”
By this point, Leon was feeling a bit foolish with his arm out and was even contemplating retracting it when Jericho seized his arm tightly and shook it vigorously. Leon almost thought the Anax was trying to tear his arm clean from his shoulder until he released him.
“You have relieved a burden from my mind, Leon, do not doubt that. Do not doubt that. I am comforted in knowing that the Thunderbird Clan has both returned and not forgotten its honor.”
“And it pleases me,” Leon said as he subtly stretched his arm to relieve the discomfort from Jericho’s arm shake, “to know that my Clan hasn’t been entirely forgotten, and that our return isn’t being damned from all sides.”
“Only fools embrace the Canticles of Hormizd uncritically. There are those who have legitimate grievances with your Clan, but after so long, they are not great in number. Though I’ve been meaning to ask… have any fools presented themselves to you since the Games? I can’t imagine you’ve been left alone all this time, not with such… lineage…”
Leon smirked. “It’s been less peaceful around here than I’ve been used to, I’ll admit. I’ve had no fewer than twenty different Storm Lords come calling just to meet me. Another forty Storm Lords that I met during the Games visited to arrange purchases of storm crystal. And that’s not even getting into what other Lords have done.”
“Oh? Other Lords? You’ve piqued my interest, my friend; please, tell me more.”
With a soft snort of amusement, Leon explained, “In the north, my people have noticed the Burning Lords across the sea growing more active. It seems they’re paying more attention to me, at least from where I sit. The Ocean Lords, too, have been more active, patrolling the King’s Ocean around my territory and establishing what seem to be watch posts.”
Jericho’s face fell. “You should watch yourself, Leon. That sounds… serious.”
“I agree. But my alliance with Princess Miuna remains intact. She was just here, not even a year ago, and she assured me that she hasn’t heard anything about an Ocean Lord moving against me. Her father has even explicitly ordered that hostilities against other Elemental Lands are only to be taken in self-defense, at least until the current conflict with the Mountain Lords concludes.”
“Really? I heard that that conflict already ended…”
“There was a brief truce, but the war flared up again. A consequence of this Reconstitution, I’d guess, since the Oceans are so divided and disparate.”
“Much like the planes. Ruling over such large territories can be difficult from within the Nexus. It’s nearly impossible out in the Void.” Jericho frowned deeply for a moment, then his face brightened. “Have any Storm Lords been giving you trouble?”
Leon took a moment to think over his answer, as it was fairly complicated. “I’ve had… some Lords demand storm crystal, or demand to know the secret of its creation. I’ve heard rumors from outside of my territory that some Lords are making deals with each other about what to do if I head east. I’m sure there are a lot of Lords who don’t want to have anything to do with me, and don’t want to see me seize power, but for the moment, it seems like they’re waiting to see what I do now that I’m in the spotlight. Or was, I suppose, ten years ago.”
“I imagine knowing your connection with the Great Dragons can put off even the most aggressive, at least for a time. But don’t lose sight of this, my friend: it’s only been ten years. That’s a blink of an eye for an immortal. You were the highlight of these last Belicenian Games, and you still are the highlight, at least for the Storm Lands. The other Lords have been maneuvering for many, many years, and now they have to factor you into their plans. It takes some time to overcome the inertia of the status quo, but once it shifts and they are in a position to deal with you, they won’t hesitate.”
“I get that…” Leon whispered. This was the sort of thing that he needed good connections with other Lords for. He and most of his people were generally more insular by nature, but having someone like Ingrid on his side made understanding what was happening in the Storm Lands so much easier.
“Out of curiosity,” Jericho whispered, a knowing smile on his face that almost had Leon convinced he was staring directly into Leon’s mind, “did this information come by way of Despotissa Ingrid?”
Leon’s smile thinned. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve heard it from so many people by now that I’m just about convinced it’s true, but I wanted to hear it from you before I believed anything… Has Ingrid sworn herself to you? I haven’t heard anything official about this, but I’ve so many rumors that it’s hard to know what’s true…”
“No,” Leon said honestly. Ingrid wasn’t his vassal—not yet, anyway, but they had agreed on an alliance during the Games. She’d promised to swear herself to him once he was capable of defending her from any backlash, but that day hadn’t yet come. It was close, but Leon was being careful since accepting Ingrid’s offer of support would essentially steal her away from another Basileus. Supporting Jericho already meant antagonizing Basileus Lorgos, along with anyone else in the Great Strand of Rhea, and Leon didn’t want to stretch himself too thin.
Besides, he and Ingrid were already allied, so he wasn’t truly missing out on much by not having Luthergard directly sworn to Artorion just yet.
“Fine, fine, we can go with that,” Jericho said. “But a word of caution, my friend: Basileus Tyndareus is not one to take insults lightly. If your relationship with Ingrid turns from friends to vassal and Lord, then I believe that will result in war.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leon said, his eyes turning once again to the forces assembled in the south.
Threats were all around him; he could see that. Burning Lords, Ocean Lords, Basileus Tyndareus, other Storm Lords… He needed to protect what he already had, and with that in mind, some of his advisors had already called his current strategy into question. What was waiting another decade, they’d ask. What was wrong with focusing more on defense rather than conquering the planes?
Leon’s answer was simple: he needed resources, more than he currently had. And in his position, there were few ways to get them: alliances and conquest. And he was already making alliances.
And today, the conquest would begin.
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