The Storm King

Valeria couldn’t sit still. Leon had been gone for over an hour, there had been no word from him, and the golem that had escorted him hadn’t returned. The other golems remained on their plinths in the alcoves, and there didn’t seem to be any sign that anything was wrong, but still, she couldn’t help but think the worst.

As worrying, if not more so than that, though, was the thought of finally finding her father. She clung to her last hope that he was here somewhere, and not lying dead out in the forest they had just fought their way through. She had been thinking about what she might say to him if she ever saw him again to the point of overthinking, but nothing seemed quite good enough. She wanted to know why he left, why he abandoned her, and if this task that he was so dedicated to completing really was the best and only way of freeing her mother.

If it came down to it, Valeria knew in her heart that she couldn’t betray Leon, not after all the trust he’d shown in her to this point. But she also knew that even after he’d abandoned her to run off to this place, she didn’t hate her father, either.

However, for all the feelings of love she had for her father, she could no longer turn a blind eye to what they had been tasked with, with what Justin had been telling her was necessary for her entire life. Kamran was forcing them to murder innocents or remain forever in exile—the latter she felt was more likely to be his real intention. But that order to kill a child was something that she had found easy to ignore when it was more impersonal—to the point that she was kind of scared how easy it was. Now that she had a face and a personal relationship with the person they were targeting, it was impossible for her to turn a blind eye to what they had been ordered to do.

All of these thoughts bounced around her head while Leon was gone; anxiety of his status; the status of her father; what might happen if they were to meet and she wasn’t there; anxiety about her and Naiad’s current situation—left alone and possibly forgotten in an isolated corner of this remote… whatever this place was.

She soon found herself unable to stay still; her legs began to bounce so powerfully while she was seated that she had to rise and begin pacing, her brow furrowed and a hand under her chin as she listened intently for any sign from outside that anything at all was happening. That Naiad’s reaction was so comparatively tame baffled her, given that Naiad was Leon’s lover.

The river nymph had splayed herself out over a nearby sofa, practically draping herself over the cushions like a cat over a sunny spot. She, to Valeria’s eyes, seemed barely able to keep her eyes open, and even appeared perfectly at ease with their current situation.

Valeria found her eyes drifting more and more in Naiad’s direction as the minutes grudgingly moved on and her anxieties compounded upon themselves.

‘How can she remain so calm?’ Valeria wondered with increasing vitriol. It started as simple curiosity since Valeria seemed more concerned about Leon than Leon’s own lover did, but that eventually morphed into mild annoyance, then irritation, and finally to anger.

Eventually, the stress got to her and she couldn’t help but loudly ask the river nymph with barely-contained fury, “Is all of this boring for you? You hardly look like you care that Leon’s been gone for more than an hour!”

Naiad cracked her eyes open for a moment, directing a withering glare in Valeria’s direction, but she did not respond immediately. After about five long seconds of Valeria furiously returning Naiad’s glare, the silver-haired woman began to turn around to continue pacing when she heard the river nymph’s voice whisper into her mind.

[Do not presume to know my mind, human. I am far more concerned about my mate than you will ever be.]

Valeria spun back around to face Naiad, her face rapidly reddening with anger and indignation, her body reacting almost violently now that she had managed to find an outlet for her stress.

“You should not presume to know my mind!” she practically shouted.

Naiad gave her a look of distaste, then slowly rose to her feet, letting her aura radiate from her body as she did. Even that casual display was a power play, for she was so powerful compared to Valeria that even the magic that leaked from her body was stronger than anything Valeria could muster.

[He is my mate,] Naiad growled. [You have admitted that it was the task given to your family to kill him. If it were up to me, you would be nothing more than red mist and shattered bone.]

Valeria clenched her teeth so hard that her jaw muscles almost tore through her cheeks, but even for all her anger right now, she knew that she was no match for Naiad. So, she said nothing in response. Besides, she knew that she’d instigated this and that Naiad was correct in saying that her family was here to kill Leon. If they hadn’t that task, then they would still be in the Nexus.

Still, she hated hearing it ‘out loud’, especially from someone that she didn’t consider involved in the affair, and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to not immediately assault Naiad right then and there. Instead, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and not escalate the situation.

She glanced back at the door, but nothing had changed during this short exchange as far as she could tell. Leon was still gone, and she and Naiad were, for all intents and purposes, trapped here without him.

Suddenly, Naiad’s aura spiked in intensity, nearly causing Valeria to fall to her knees in nausea as waves of power and killing intent washed over her. For just a moment, Valeria thought that the outburst was for her, and her heart just about stopped in primal terror as she thought she was about to die. However, when she turned back to Naiad, intending to face her death with as much dignity as she could muster, she saw the river nymph had her back to her and had conjured an orb of water in front of both of them.

Realizing that something else was going on, Valeria summoned her weapons and armor and began circulating her magic power to fight off the instinctive reaction she had to Naiad’s power. Before she had regained strength in her legs, however, the golem nearest to them leaped off its plinth, only being held back by Naiad’s water orb, which sank deep into every nook and cranny it could find in the automaton. A moment later, the water flash froze, tearing the golem apart, a flash of light momentarily blinding Valeria as the enchantments woven into its frame tried to save it, only to fail.

[On your feet,] Naiad commanded to her, and Valeria saw the other golems stepping out of their alcoves, as well, the weapons they now carried and the auras they now gave clearly indicating hostile intent. [Leon has been indisposed, I know not how. Get ready to fight.]

---

With a titanic flash of lightning and clap of thunder that somehow left his ears ringing, Leon found himself hurled first to the ground, and then down several stone stairs. He’d been standing next to a skeleton on a rotten bed, not stairs, so his spatial awareness was thrown completely off. It took him a long moment to regain his bearings and realize that whatever had just happened had hit him so hard that he’d somehow been thrown back into his soul realm, his magic body having been ejected from its throne.

“ON YOUR FEET, BOY!” Xaphan shouted, his voice sounding panicked for the first time in a long time. “DEFEND YOURSELF!”

Leon, his mind feeling a little slow and muddled, looked up at the demon. The former Lord of Flame had come charging out of his pavilion, the fires that covered his body burning like a star, his eyes blazing like golden coals.

Xaphan didn’t get too close to Leon for fear of burning the young man, but he got close enough for Leon to feel both the heat and the panic that the demon felt right now.

With a groan and a titanic effort, Leon pushed himself back to his feet and began looking around at his soul realm. Everything seemed in place, at least until he heard the voice.

“Xaphan… is that you?”

The voice was familiar—he’d just spent some time speaking with someone who had a suspiciously similar voice. However, this one sounded more energetic, more confrontational. Younger.

Appearing with a flash of golden lightning, a man of roughly middle-age appeared in front of Leon and Xaphan, his only marginally-lined face looking positively youthful compared to the aged man he had appeared as only a moment ago when he and Leon were speaking.

“How wonderful it is to see you,” ‘Nestor’ said, ignoring Leon completely in favor of staring at Xaphan like a dog eying a scrap about to drop from the table. “So long you resisted our attempts to recruit you, yet you made a contract with one of our Clan in the end, anyway. How delightful!”

“Identify yourself,” Xaphan demanded, extending his thin, burning arm out toward ‘Nestor’ and conjuring a handful of fire bats that sat in his palm, waiting for Xaphan’s order to strike.

Yet, ‘Nestor’ seemed not at all perturbed by this sight of blatant aggression, and for that, Leon could hardly blame him. He’d just invaded Leon’s soul realm somehow, and that meant he likely had more tricks up his sleeve than Leon knew.

“What…” Leon murmured as he stared at ‘Nestor’, his face one of shock and fury, his magic power starting to churn and roil within his soul realm, causing the very air to start becoming wavy and distorted like a heat mirage. “… In the hells… Just HAPPENED?!”

As he finished his question, a blast of silver-blue lightning erupted from the Mists of Chaos above him, striking the ground right behind him as if to punctuate his demand for answers.

‘Nestor’, however, just stood there, in front of Leon and Xaphan, his ‘body’ seemingly full of vitality—or at least, full of muscle—and his mouth turned up in a mocking smile. His aura, however, was comparatively weak, completely at odds with how Leon thought another man might act when faced by two magical beings that completely outclassed him in power.

With an attitude like he was explaining arithmetic to undeserving children, ‘Nestor’ said, “I am exactly who I claim to be. I have no reason to lie, nor do I have any intention of doing so. I am Nestor, the son of Jason Keraunos, and I have done this to ensure our Clan’s rise to power.”

“What the right fuck are you talking about?!” Leon roared as he took a couple threatening steps toward Nestor, only stopping when Xaphan held out his hand.

“Hold there, Leon,” Xaphan said, keeping his gaze locked on Nestor. “Rushing into this will only get you killed. Take a moment and prepare yourself. This man has not come here for words or to share anything with you.”

“This little demonic pet is right,” Nestor said, taking a step forward, “I have broken into this place for one reason and one reason only: I will be taking your body, young Leon. It will be of much better use in my hands, I assure you, and through me, our Clan will regain every scrap of power lost in the millennia since my father’s death!”

Leon could hardly believe his ears. Nestor was standing there as if he already owned the place, yet Leon could barely sense any magical aura from him at all, let alone one that surpassed him in power, and that wasn’t even touching on Xaphan’s power.

Yet, when Leon began to channel his power, causing the skies to darken and lightning to streak flash among the gathering storm clouds, he took a quick sideways glance at Xaphan and saw that the demon was treating this very seriously. Xaphan was standing in a fairly defensive pose, and the fires on his body were burning with terrible power, the bats in his hand turning the dark red of demonfire.

Still, he was in his soul realm, a place of utmost power for him, a place where he was theoretically untouchable. Here, he did not fear Nestor.

“My body is mine,” Leon said as a dark look drifted across his face. “I don’t care who you claim to be, you will not be taking a damn thing.”

“That,” Nestor replied, his expression sliding into one of tired resignation, “is no longer for you to decide. I’ve already seen enough of you to judge that you are not enough, and the stories you told me only a few moments ago sealed the deal. You are unequal to the task ahead of you. You carry our ancestral blade and wield our sacred power, but compared to me, you are nothing, you are a spoiled boy who has had everything he has given to him. You can’t even defend your own soul realm against a man who doesn’t have a physical body anymore!

“Now, as the last surviving son of Jason Keraunos, and the senior-most member of the Thunderbird Clan, I will take the responsibility for rebuilding us. You are no longer needed, though I will allow you to live on, in another form.”

Leon’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. He had no interest in hearing about what this form that Nestor spoke of would take, for he had no intention of just stepping aside. Nestor would not have his body, he would not have his soul realm.

Without another word, Leon, using barely more than a single thought, let one of the silver-blue lightning bolts dancing about the sky come crashing down upon Nestor. The man’s magic body practically exploded in sparks and arcs of lightning, his form vanishing within the light. But only a moment later, the light vanished with the lightning, revealing Nestor still standing there, smiling as if nothing had just happened.

Beside Leon, Xaphan made his move, too. The half-dozen bats sitting in his hand took flight, and then one-by-one, dive-bombed Nestor, consuming him in dark red demonfire as they exploded across his form.

There was no time for celebration. Leon saw a flash of light within that conflagration right before the first bat exploded and knew that Nestor had almost literally laughed that attack off. Sure enough, a moment later, there was another flash of light from a floating rune that had appeared beside him, and the flames parted around him like waves on a rock; Nestor was unharmed.

[Leon,] Xaphan whispered into his mind despite standing right next to him, [this man is a master of the runic arts. His power is not solely dependent on elemental magic.]

Leon spared Xaphan a quick look and a nod, but he wasn’t deterred. Nestor was here in his soul realm, there was nowhere for Leon to run to.

Again, Leon called forth lightning from the Mists of Chaos, only this time, he put more than just some momentary anger in it. He put into his attacks his rage at being misled and lied to, at being so casually dismissed and discarded by this man; he put his desire to see Elise, Maia, and others into his strikes; he put his sorrow at having not, in fact, found kin he could share his responsibility with, only a thief who didn’t even blink at attempting to steal his body.

Lightning fell upon Nestor like rain, bolt after bolt, so many that even Xaphan had to take a step or two back and cover his ears to protect them from the thunder. So many bolts that Nestor seemed to become lightning, his form little more than a vague outline with a hazy ball of silver-blue light.

Leon called upon every spark of power that he had. Everything he absorbed from the Thunderbird colossus, everything his soul realm had managed to collect during the hours since he’d last depleted his soul realm, and when he absorbed the stray magic that didn’t strike Nestor but remained in his soul realm, Leon recycled it and hurled it at Nestor again, all of it packed and compressed into lightning and sent down upon Nestor like the wrath of an angry god.

At the same time, Leon called upon the Mists of Chaos. He could see within the lightning that Nestor wasn’t even shuddering with every bolt that fell upon him, so he began to form a ring of stone around the impact area using the mist taken from beyond the limits of his soul realm, further concentrating all of the force that he could bring to bear down upon his ancient kinsman.

It took minutes, which stretched on and on and on, to the point that Leon lost track of the time. He poured everything he had into stopping Nestor, into defending himself and keeping this man from taking his body. It was so much that even his ears began to ring with the constant thunder.

When he finally ran out of power, Leon fell to his knees, the storm clouds above the vale of his soul realm clearing as he no longer had the power to sustain them, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared down into the deep crater that his power had dug in the center of his Mind Palace at Nestor, still standing, still smiling, his eyes narrow with amusement, a rune about the size of his head hovering right next to him and shining like the sun with magic power.

Leon only then comprehended the magnitude of his mistake. That rune was not modern, it was ancient beyond imagination. Unlike modern runes, which were essentially alphabetical, forming enchantments the same way that he would write a sentence, Leon knew that ancient runes were more pictorial, representing individual ideas, concepts, or things. There were thousands of ancient runes, far too many for any average mage to ever memorize, each one doing on its own what it would take a mighty enchantment in the modern runic script to accomplish.

But this one, Leon knew. He’d seen it before in books that he’d taken from his family’s archives, though he’d never truly comprehended its power.

It vaguely resembled a box with its lid open, little more than a squiggle made of light in substance. ‘Collection’ was what it was, or some variant thereof. Leon could see now that it was collecting his magic power— or rather, it was capturing it.

He’d just thrown every scrap of power at his command at Nestor, and Nestor had caught it all, leaving Leon with just about no moves left to play, having not just wasted all of his power, but given all of it to the enemy in front of him.

Grinning, Nestor, yet unscathed, began to slowly advance up the crater straight at Leon, the rune at his side following him with every step.