All was quiet on the bridge as everyone waited for what was about to happen. Prios held his breath, his heart thumping a frantic beat in his chest even as he kept his chiseled features calm. Everyone around him looked up to him in almost every way—he was the eldest among them by far, recalling ages long over, times that were practically mythical to his crew’s fleeting lives.
As time passed interminably slowly, he momentarily closed his eyes, these old memories filling him with both hope and dread.
He remembered when he was yet young, his father introducing him to Jason Keraunos, the Storm King himself. Prios was taken as an officer on Jason Keraunos’ flag ark, Storm Herald, and there served with distinction for more than a century.
He remembered being given his own independent command after reaching the eighth-tier—he was assigned a provincial governorship under Lord Andronike, who ruled over half a dozen planes. A smile crossed his face, noting how all of Andronike’s planes were now part of his League.
He remembered the chaos that consumed the Storm Lands in the wake of the Storm King’s death. Jason Keraunos had launched his secretive campaign, taking all of his Clan’s finest warriors and potential heirs. When he didn’t return, his Clan was torn asunder by enemies from within and without, and the Storm Lands fractured.
He remembered the wars he fought since then, and how he, by the skin of his teeth, secured his Lordship over the plane of Asuwiya.
He remembered achieving Apotheosis and then leading his people in securing not just the local planar cluster, but several others as well, forming the Asuwiyan League. For fifty thousand years, the League had stood for all, defending themselves by defending each other, and so, the Asuwiyan League was a beacon of stability and prosperity within the chaos and war that had consumed the Great Strand of Rhea since Jason Keraunos’ death.
He remembered his decision to stay in Asuwiya and not seek further gains in the Nexus. He was immortal, but he was still an eleventh-tier mage. He was more than powerful enough to dominate his local region of the Great Strand, but he was far from the strongest mage he could have been if he’d been more ambitious and assertive.
As it was, though, he didn’t regret his decision. Asuwiya meant more to him than a million Kingdoms in the Nexus.
But that contentment had come to a screeching end when, ten years ere, he received a curious guest. He hadn’t kept up with news from the Nexus, so it came as a great shock to him when this guest spoke of the return of the Thunderbird Clan. Prios had been skeptical, but in the decade since, that skepticism faded. The treasures traded by that King’s merchants and the diplomats that sometimes filled his League’s capitol halls were certain in their beliefs and persuasive in their rhetoric. The Thunderbird Clan had returned, and it was clear to everyone, even if the diplomats and merchants didn’t quite say it aloud, that their King wanted to restore his Clan of old.
And that meant conquering the Asuwiyan League.
That sobering thought brought him back to the present. The military forces of the League were mighty by Rhea’s standards. They had arkyards and millions of men under arms. They could keep their Voidspace safe, though given all of the competing interests of each League member, conquest was effectively impossible. Though it had been built mostly on military might, the League was no Empire, and Prios was no autocrat.
Their forces, sufficient as they were for their needs, were not, Prios knew, great enough to defend themselves from a Basileus of the Nexus. The arks he’d seen piloted by the Clan’s merchants were faster than what his people could field, let alone those sleek vessels that bore the diplomats.
Now, his fleet was arrayed in preparation, and millions of eyes were upon him. The future of his League depended on the next few hours—
“Lord Prios!” one bridge officer called out, drawing his attention. Wordlessly, Prios ordered him to continue. “Magic is gathering! A portal is about to open!”
Prios nodded and composed himself. The future would be decided in the next few minutes…
---
Anzu felt White Feather, his flag ark, shudder as it transitioned back into the Void. Magic bled around it, blacks darker than the Void and tinged with rich blue rippling outward and dissipating. All around him, arks appeared, filling the Void with their magic and momentarily drowning out even Anzu’s potent magic senses.
They emerged in near-perfect formation, their new jump drives ensuring that they were ready for anything. Given what greeted them, such capability was necessary, else Anzu would have had them emerge at a safer distance. As it was, appearing so close to Asuwiya and in relatively tight formation was a statement unto itself, one that Anzu hoped his opponent would take to heart.
He grinned as the magic of their arrival swiftly dissipated, allowing him to use his magic senses to see what the other side had brought to bear.
A hundred arks, mostly frigate or destroyer class, but with a dozen of light cruiser tonnage, and one particularly large ark that looked somewhere between a dreadnought and a heavy cruiser. A powerful force, to be sure, but not one that could stand against his fleet.
“Spread out,” he ordered, his officers rushing to do as he commanded. “Keep weapons ready, but not a single shot fired until ordered!”
‘What are you going to do?’ he wondered as he leaned back in his command throne, letting the cold tendrils of his ark enter his mind and link it with the ark’s systems, including its suite of sensor enchantments. ‘You were given a choice… Let me hear your answer…’
---
Prios felt his heart almost seize as he beheld the size of the fleet that had come to Asuwiya. His plane was at his back, its sun arcing behind it as the last hour of the day bled into night. Its rays, while no longer bathing the face of Asuwiya in the sun’s radiance, still illuminated the fleet opposite his own.
Thousands of arks glittered in the Void, as if a new Great Strand had appeared from nowhere. Sleek, silver-hulled beasts, some monstrously huge, maneuvered toward Asuwiya, and Prios knew that attempting to fight this fleet would do little save get his own people killed.
Strength left his muscles as he slouched in his seat. This knowledge was both comforting and terrifying. Terrifying, of course, as he found himself under the gaze of a powerful Nexus Lord, no longer able to use his own irrelevance as a shield. But still comforting, as it absolved him of responsibility.
This was no force he could fight, and so fighting could not be expected. Not by any reasonable men, at least. They were outnumbered more than ten to one, perhaps as many as twenty to one, and all of their arks were superior in quality to the League’s own.
‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘There is no shame in this. None.’
He remembered the smile Jason Keraunos gave him as he left Storm Herald for the last time, gone to his governorship on Asuwiya. Prios liked to think it was pride, but for all he knew, given how little Jason Keraunos liked speaking with his officers, he’d simply been glad to be rid of Prios.
It made no difference to him; in the end, he was right where he needed to be, and Jason Keraunos’ personal feelings didn’t change the fact that the man was dead.
“Begin escort procedures,” Prios commanded, his voice strong and resolute. “Give the call to not resist.”
At one time, such a command would have been seen as cowardice. But what the ark could pick up was projected onto the forward screen, and the entire bridge could see it. Everyone knew the odds, and no one wanted to die. None of his people, at any rate, as he noticed several arks splitting off from the fleet before his officers had even finished sending out his orders.
Trouble. He’d been relatively receptive to accepting the overlordship of this ‘Leon Raime’, so long as his League was left to its own devices, but other members of the League held different sentiments.
For the moment, Prios allowed them to run, choosing to instead address the greater concern. He retrieved the black slate given to him by one of King Leon’s top diplomats. He felt the magic within resonate with something outside of his ark, and with a few flicks of his finger, called the commander of the newly-arrived fleet…
---
With a tingling in his ear that was similar to, but not quite exactly like, hearing sound, Anzu felt more than heard the chime of his personal comm slate. He’d placed the comm slate into his throne before making this final jump, connecting it to the ark’s internal systems and allowing him to control it with his mind via cloud glass.
With but a thought, a projector on the armrest of his throne activated, revealing the countenance of Prios, the apparent hegemon of the Asuwiyan League. He was a handsome enough man, with looks that were nothing if not conventional. Sun-kissed skin, dark hair, and darker eyes, he struck a strong figure even though Anzu couldn’t sense his aura. Based on what Words-Like-Honey had told him, however, Prios was a match for him in terms of raw power, at least, and that kind of power demanded a certain level of respect.
“Lord Prios,” Anzu greeted, emphasizing the man’s chosen title. He found it strange that he hadn’t made himself a King, but he refrained from immediately saying anything about it aside from that little bit of emphasis. It made it easier, at any rate, as his brother wouldn’t need to tear any crowns from Prios, nor potentially take his head with it. “I’ve heard much about you. I see you’ve assembled quite the welcoming party. Should I be concerned?”
Prios responded in perfect Nexus common, “Paladin Anzu. I, too, have heard of you. I’m honored that the brother of King Leon himself has come to my little corner of the universe. There is no need for you to be concerned; I was merely ensuring Asuwiya’s Voidspace remained peaceful before your arrival. We do not intend to break the peace.”
“Neither do we,” Anzu replied, though his scarlet eyes narrowed for a moment.
It seemed obvious to him what this was: a show of force meant to get him to take Asuwiya seriously. His League couldn’t stand against the forces his brother had assembled, which left submission as his only true choice. Of course, Anzu wouldn’t have been surprised if Prios had decided to go out in a blaze of glory, his pride rigidly keeping his head from bowing until it snapped clean off his neck, but it seemed that he was making the smart choice.
Which meant that this show of force wasn’t meant to contest the League’s submission, but rather meant to strengthen their position before final negotiations.
“Your journey must have been long,” Prios said diplomatically. “If you’d be willing to follow my ark down to my plane, I will show you proper Asuwiyan hospitality. Once you are fully rested, we shall attend to business. How does that sound?”
“It sounds good,” Anzu said, “but what sounds better is getting to business as soon as we land. As you said, we have come a long way, but we are not tired. My brother sent us here for a reason, and I intend to see our duty fulfilled without delay.”
As he finished, he spotted a slight twitch in Prios’ face, one easily missed. ‘Ambush?’ he wondered. ‘Duplicity?’ Anzu forced his face to remain straight only with great effort; his lips had nearly parted in a predatory grin that might’ve soured this meeting. ‘Show me whatever you’re planning! Spring your ambush, I’ll tear it to pieces! Brother will have this plane even if I have to tear your throat out with my own beak!’
As subtly as he could, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. He knew that Leon wanted these planes peacefully integrated if possible, and he’d shown Anzu immense trust in giving him command of this Task Force. He wasn’t going to let his brother down.
“As you wish, Paladin. I look forward to meeting you in person.”
“Won’t take long,” Anzu promised as Prios’ arks scattered and dropped toward the surface of Asuwiya. With a few orders, White Feather accelerated with an escort of several destroyers and a dozen frigates. Admiral Floats-on-Wind was left in charge of the fleet as a whole, which would remain beyond Asuwiya’s terminus line, not quite threatening but still ready to act if anything happened down below.
---
“… and it is certain that there is no other way?” King Idaeus of the plane of Apaesus asked, his voice trembling, his white and purple robes immaculate despite the plea in his voice. “To give up without even a fight…”
“I saw their fleet,” Prios stated as he walked through the halls of the Assembly building, the center of administration—as much as there was one—for the Asuwiyan League. It was the grandest building in the city of Assuwa, but for security reasons, it was far from most of the arkpads that the fleets of the League used. That gave them some time to speak before their guests arrived. “Look up. Do you see that ark landing now?”
Idaeus frowned and didn’t respond, but Prios didn’t need him to. The King was a ninth-tier mage, and there was no way he missed it.
“They have more than forty arks of such size above Asuwiya right now, let alone the hundreds of others. Setting aside our pride is the better choice than fighting, because if we fight, then we’ll lose everything. I’ve seen it before.”
‘And participated in many such operations,’ Prios thought, again recalling his time aboard Storm Herald.
“I… understand what you’re saying,” Idaeus said as he halted, prompting Prios to also halt. A glare sent their adjutants ahead, allowing them to speak in something that resembled privacy, though there was usually little such privacy to be found within the Assembly building. Continuing, Idaeus said, “King Zorus won’t accept this. Neither will the Thybian Lords. Submission is one thing, but to not even fight when a foe presents himself? It’s… they’ll consider it shameful.”
“And you?” Prios pressed. “What do you think about it?”
Idaeus hesitated, his eyes flickering in the direction of the enormous ark that had come to rest on the largest arkpad in Assuwa. Even then, it was a tight fit, and the smaller arks that accompanied it couldn’t land next to it.
“I… find the taste bitter.”
“Tasting your own blood would be more so.” Prios’ tone softened for a moment. “My friend… I know the Thunderbird Clan. If this ‘King Leon’ is anything like his Ancestors, he will be generous to his friends, and utterly, unstoppably ruthless to his enemies. We cannot fight this fleet, and if we resist… I could easily see them devastating all the planes of the League as punishment.”
Not another word was spoken by either of them for a long moment, until finally Idaeus said, “I bow to your wisdom. There would be no League without you. I simply hope that this submission does not destroy all that we have built in these past millennia.”
“I will make sure that doesn’t happen,” Prios said. “I have been entrusted with this League, and I will not let any of you down. Now, do you want to greet our guest?”
“I’ll stay out of your way,” Idaeus said. “The rest of the Assembly will need steadying.”
Prios laughed. “I’m sure they will.” He turned and continued walking through the building. “I’m surprised you were the only one who came out to meet me.”
Idaeus fell in with him, walking beside Prios rather than behind him. “The Princes of Teos have never been built for this kind of thing; so long as trade isn’t disrupted, they won’t say a word about resistance. The Kings of Kamirus, Priene, and Ialysus are of like mind; so long as the status quo reigns, they have no reason to complain about anything, and that gives them unusual composure.”
Prios nodded, none of that coming as a surprise. “I’m more concerned with those less content. Zorus and the Thybian Lords can be brought around. Imbros and Elaeus are more worrisome. Has King Euphemus made any last-minute statements?”
“None that I’ve heard.”
Prios frowned. “Is he even still on Asuwiya?”
“Can’t say. He’s certainly not in Assuwa, at least.”
“And the Sovereign Council of Elaeus is still silent?”
“They haven’t contacted any Assembly members that I’m aware of, but their own Assembly representatives left several hours ago.”
Prios nearly tripped over his own feet. “They left?”
Idaeus nodded.
“Shit. They’re going to make trouble no matter what deal I negotiate.”
Idaeus sighed. “It’s no surprise that those brought into the League unwillingly aren’t going to accept the League submitting to anyone else. After all, they were forced to bow once; a second time might be too much.”
“We’ll deal with them,” Prios promised. “We’ll need to keep our guests from realizing our divisions. We need to at least seem like we’re presenting a united front. If not, then they’ll have more power to negotiate. They’ll also be more likely to crack down on perceived dissent, which could further fracture the League.”
“What is your hope?”
“That we can deal with our internal problems ourselves, and that King Leon will rule with a light hand. His diplomats already promised that he would, but… We’ll see. For now, my friend, keep the Assembly quiet. I’ll present the results of our negotiations soon.”
“How long until we can expect those results?”
“I wish I could say…” Prios murmured as his feet carried him to the fateful chamber where the fate of Asuwiya would be decided. He just hoped nothing would happen that might trigger retaliation from the Thunderbird Clan—even after so long, he shuddered at the thought of angering that bloodline.
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