The Storm King

Leon stared at the beach in the distance, a frown on his face. Their chosen landing place was about ten miles away from their first destination on the second island, a small town founded by Bull Kingdom citizens to build ships out of the lumber given by the rest of the Serpentine Isles in tribute to the Bull King.

But the scouts that had been dispatched to ascertain the town’s status had returned with fell news: the town had been razed and abandoned, its primarily wooden buildings blackened by fire and its streets apparently deserted. Being less than twenty miles away now, Leon could easily see with his magic senses the scale of destruction was, if anything, worse than what the scouts had reported, and that the city was just as deserted as the Legion had come to fear. There were no signs of anyone remaining within its maze-like streets and alleys, and Leon couldn’t see a single building that was still intact.

Whatever fire had burned there hadn’t been stopped and had spread from building to building unfettered. Worse, since no one had been able to see the fire from far off—and powerful mages could see a long way when on the Endless Ocean—that meant that whatever had happened to the town had happened at least a month before, and yet there had been no word that the fleet had been able to hear. Whatever happened to the people was thus a complete mystery, and one that had many in the task force making everything from conservative guesses—that Jormun had simply taken the people prisoner to try and coerce the fleets to go home—to wild conjectures with little evidence or reason—such as Jormun preparing a massive blood sacrifice to bring ruin to the fleets by invoking the wrath of ancient gods.

After the conversation he had with the man, Leon was more in the second camp than the first, and as the hours passed after discovering the empty colony, Leon grew more and more terrified that Jormun’s Serpent was truly down below the Serpentine Isles, and that Jormun was intent on releasing it.

Leon set that fear aside as best as he could and focused his attention on the task at hand: reaching the sacked town with the marines at his back, and maybe figure out just what in the hells happened to it. Perhaps as concerningly as the sacked town, however, were the farms in the town’s hinterlands. They held no signs of having been looted or burned, but Leon couldn’t see a single human being among the hundreds of farms along the coast and the few small rivers around the coastal colony.

Leon’s route to the colony would take him through many of those farms, so he vowed to stop and see what he could see. The reason for their disappearance could simply be that they didn’t want to be in the Legion’s way, but Leon had no way to say for sure. He hoped there might be a clue or two in some of the empty farmsteads.

What was also concerning was the fact that no matter how hard Leon looked, he couldn’t see hide nor hair of any Islanders waiting in ambush. The task force was made up of many hundreds of ships, there was no way in any hell that their approach could’ve been missed. There were some pains taken to mask their specific approach—mostly by increasing the width of their sailing formation and sending several other groups on feints toward other potential landing spots—but Leon was resolved not to underestimate Jormun. The pirate was the kind of man that infiltrated the command structure of the task force so completely, so convincingly that the Fleet Legates had been prepared to leave him in control of the island, only to abandon that tactic after less than a day, for some undiscernible reason.

A man like that wasn’t one that anyone could predict. Still, the lack of any perceptible resistance to the task force’s advance was worrying. That worry only grew stronger a few hours later when Leon and his squad found themselves on the black sand shores of the island, a couple thousand marines disembarking just behind them.

“Where in the hells are these people?!” Alcander wondered aloud, and not for the first time. Leon wasn’t alone in his worry and suspicion, but no one, not even Maia with her tremendously powerful magic senses, could make heads or tails of what was happening, or where their enemy happened to be.

“Who knows?” Leon replied with a frown that betrayed just how much he was having to force himself to focus on moving toward the town rather than actively search for their enemy. “Let’s just ready to move on. We have to reach that town by the end of the day, and we have a lot of ground to cover. Keep your eyes open.”

“Yeah,” Alcander replied, though he sounded not all enthused. As he fell in behind Leon, Leon heard him murmur, “Just fuckin’ fight us straight up, what are you people doing…”

They would move on down the coast, shadowing the fleets as they moved toward the sacked ship-building town. It may have been deserted and ruined, but the loss of dozens of ships and thousands of marines and sailors on their arrogantly forward approach to Kraterok had the Fleet Legates wary of making such a direct move again.

“No damn way they’re just going to let us move unobstructed,” Marcus murmured, repeating a sentiment that had been given voice many times over the past couple of days.

Leon fully agreed with the statement, and the lack of obvious preparations was starting to get to him. In a way, it would’ve almost been a comfort to see more conventional defenses, because walls, towers, and armies were something that Leon could easily prepare himself for, and that the fleets were easily capable of dealing with.

Whatever was going on now, however, was going to be much harder handle, that much he could tell.

Leon and his squad were to be the tip of the spear, leading the way at the very front of their marching column. The two Tribunes who were actually in charge of the marines would lead from the center and rear, respectively, leaving Leon essentially unchallenged for dealing with any threats at the front and at what pace to march.

So, Leon set a quick pace. The black sandy shores quickly gave way to tall sheer cliffs and long green tree lines thick enough to block vision after only a few feet. The marines were essentially relying entirely on the magic senses of Leon, Maia, and the small handful of higher-ranked mages they had with them.

Fortunately, as Leon led them down the shoreline, he sensed nothing unusual. However, there was just so many places to hide in the inland jungle that he knew it would’ve been easy to evade detection. He also couldn’t discount the possibility of Jormun or any of his people having laid traps or gotten possession of some manner of invisibility. Or flight, or underwater locomotion, or any of an endless series of possibilities that Leon found himself contemplating with every step he took.

All of this added up to a rather nerve-wracking march. Leon’s eyes were constantly scanning their immediate surroundings, looking for anything odd or that stuck out to him as a possible trap. Perhaps an unusually placed rock meant that an explosive spell had been buried beneath it? Maybe there were archers hidden in places that he failed to notice even with his magic senses that were just waiting for a chance to strike, loosing spell arrows into their vulnerable marching column. For all Leon knew, there was even the possibility that some of the cliffs they passed could split open like the sea wall at Kraterok, revealing another salvaged Flame Lance in just the perfect place to punch gigantic holes in their column before they could meaningfully react.

But none of those things happened. And that only made Leon’s anxiety worse. His mood was shared by many of the rest of the marines, made obvious by the fact that they marched in complete silence. The dense jungle and lack of opposition had everyone on edge, and everyone who could articulate it would’ve agreed that with every step, the chances of Jormun attacking them only grew.

Over cliffs they marched, the ocean and the fleet that sailed upon it always there to reassure them on one side, even as the jungle pressed in on the other. They couldn’t follow the coast perfectly, however, and several times had to press into the jungle in order to make progress. Each time it was done slowly and carefully, with Leon and his squad ranging forth with significant marine support, ensuring that there were no surprises waiting for them.

Even as the hours passed and they started to enter the cultivated farmlands that were supposed to support the ship-building town, no one relaxed. One reason was that there still wasn’t any sign of Jormun or his pirates, but the other was that the empty farms made for eerie scenery to pass through.

The fields themselves were quite anemic compared to some of those that Leon had seen even in the comparatively barren Eastern Territories. Despite being an island people, the Serpentine Islands had relatively few water mages—or mages of any kind, for that matter. Most of their mages took to the seas for their livelihoods rather than committing to developing the islands, acting as fishermen or sailors. As a result, there wasn’t much in the way of irrigation, magical or otherwise, that might’ve helped the farms produce enough food to support larger and more urban populations.

Still, the islands were volcanic, the climate was quite humid with frequent rains, and there were a few small streams here and there, allowing these farms to exist.

As they drew near, Leon and his group saw signs that these farms weren’t abandoned long ago. The fields of purple corn were orderly and looked relatively weed-free, the fences keeping the vermin out were well-maintained, and it looked like the storage sheds were still full of tools and other supplies.

And yet, Leon couldn’t sense any people around.

Leon called the entire marching column to a halt upon arriving at the first cluster of farmsteads built around a small coastal lake, letting the Tribunes and Centurions take charge of setting up the proper security while Gaius sent up a flare to let the fleets know what was happening. Then, with his squad and a few dozen marines, Leon made his way to the largest nearby farmhouse. By his reckoning, this cluster of farms had enough housing for about half a dozen families.

As they came within a few hundred feet of the farmhouse, Leon whispered to his people, “Spread out and stay alert.”

In a few seconds, Marcus, Alcander, and Maia came up on his left, with half of the marines to their left. Anzu, Alix, and Gaius took up positions on his right, with the rest of the marines fanning out in that direction.

Then, they advanced, with Leon and Maia’s magic senses spread out in the surrounding area to make sure they weren’t about to be attacked. As far as Leon could tell, however, they were alone, and the column behind them was, too.

Leon was the first to reach the door. His magic senses told him no one was inside the small five-room building, but the well-worn ground around the house spoke to it still being inhabited, so he knocked loudly and called out, “Hello?!”

There was no answer, so Leon pushed open the door. To his mild surprise, the door was locked, but there wasn’t a single enchantment in the entire house, so he easily managed to push the door open anyway and head inside. The house was only five rooms—one large central room with rough wooden walls, floors, and a ceiling made mostly of thatch filling in around a timber frame. The other four rooms branched off from there, with two bedrooms—one with a single large bed, and the other with three smaller beds—a bathroom that looked like nothing more than a wooden seat with a hole leading to a fairly deep cesspit, and a storage room.

Immediately, he saw that there were no signs of a struggle or hurried packing. It almost looked as if the people who lived in this place had only left for the afternoon and were soon going to return.

The rest of his squad filed in behind him save for Anzu and quickly secured the place, confirming in a matter of minutes what Leon’s magic senses had already told him: the house was devoid of people. Everyone quickly shifted into investigation mode rather than security, and they began to practically take the house apart looking for clues as to where its owners might be.

“Look at this,” Marcus said as he pointed around in the large central room. Leon glanced over, hoping that he’d found something, but instead just saw Marcus holding up a bag practically overflowing with purple corn. “Wherever these people went, they apparently had no room for food, or at least took all the food they needed and didn’t have room for more…”

“Same with the clothes,” Alcander added as he exited one of the smaller bedrooms.

“Anything obviously out of order?” Leon asked, but they and the others all shook their heads. Leon scowled as his eyes swept over the place again. “Where the hells did these people go?” he wondered aloud. They couldn’t have gotten far, he’d seen people working these farms only a few hours before.

And yet, no matter how hard he looked, he didn’t see anything out of place that might suggest a hasty departure. The one table was in the center of the room with a nearby hearth, a large iron pot next to it. The floor was mostly bare dirt, though the table and its half dozen chairs had a roughly spun carpet of jungle plants beneath it. The walls were lined with shelves, barrels, and sacks, with little else in the way of furniture. As far as Leon could tell, most of those barrels and sacks were full, too. Obviously, he couldn’t say for certain if anything was out of place, but it certainly didn’t seem this was a place that had been attacked or hurriedly evacuated.

Over the next half hour or so, Leon and his squad turned the place upside-down, and yet they found nothing of note. No hidden passages, no doors leading to cellars where the family who lived there might be hiding, no sign of where they had gone.

When Leon came back out of the house, he was thoroughly frustrated, and he wasn’t the only one.

“Not a damn soul to be seen, no magic stuff anywhere, this is creepy,” Alix muttered as she stepped back out into the light.

“Yeah,” Marcus replied. “No farmer I know would ever willingly give up their land like this, they don’t typically care about the goings-on of armies and Kingdoms and all that. So long as the sun keeps shining and their crops keep growing, most don’t care. At least, in my experience.”

“It’s likely that they saw us coming and ran into the jungle,” Alix countered with an almost challenging tone as she shot Marcus an almost exasperated look. “They may not care about our politics, but they might still be concern with the local town having been sacked and then having a massive fleet appear on the horizon.”

“Fair,” Marcus conceded.

“I’d say there’s a damn good chance that they’ve thrown in with Jormun,” Gaius suggested. “Maybe they saw didn’t want to answer any awkward questions about what happened to that town. Maybe they’re more actively working for their ‘Pirate Lord’, and are just waiting for us to lower our defenses before they strike. Wouldn’t be surprised if they have some kind of place to hide out in the jungle that has been warded against magic senses. I don’t th—”

Cutting Gaius off before he could finish his hypothesis, a tremendous fiery explosion tore through the back ranks of the marine’s marching column. It was fairly distant to Leon and his squad, but it was impossible to miss as the shockwave punched into their chests.

Immediately, Leon’s armor was on and his sword was in his hand. He projected his magic senses again, taking in the sight of more than a dozen mangled corpses of people who used to be Bull Kingdom marines and dozens more trying to shake off their injuries. The rest of the marines marching in their companies swiftly assumed proper defensive formations, with shield walls pointed at the jungle, but there was no one to see out there. No archers, no hostiles of any kind. Just an empty tree line.

“Fucking hell!” Alix shouted as she flinched at the sound of the explosion, while Marcus involuntarily ducked his head. Alcander and Gaius, meanwhile, responded by drawing their weapons and staring at the back of the column. Maia and Anzu were a little startled, but neither seemed particularly anxious.

“Let’s go!” Leon shouted as he led his squad running back toward the company that he been completely gutted.

[Do you sense anything?] Leon asked Maia as they ran.

[No,] she replied.

He couldn’t either, which brought out a terrible frown.

It took only about a minute for Leon and his squad to reach the back of the marching column, even with the companies relatively spread out. In that time, there were no further explosions, and Leon saw no one else moving about it the jungle.

“See to the injured!” Leon shouted at his squad as they started to pull out the healing spells he’d shared with them. He then stood there, staring into the trees as if waiting for someone to show themselves. No one did, and as the confused and pained screams of the injured filled his ears, Leon felt his heart growing cold with fury. The loss of his unit during the civil war was still a vivid and painful memory, and yet here dozens more had been injured or killed on his watch.

This time, however, he couldn’t even see his enemy. It was like some random explosion had just torn through the company holding the rear, without any evidence at all of what had caused it, almost like it had been act of some capricious or sadistic god. Not even the fire magic it had given off was a clue. It could’ve been a fireball from Jormun’s seventh-tier fire mage, or it could’ve been a spell arrow. It could’ve even been an explosive mine left for them to stumble over.

“Who’s in charge back here?” Leon demanded. After a long moment of silence, one of the company Prefects stepped forward, a fresh-faced man maybe about twenty-five by mortal standards, though he was third-tier, so he was likely closer to forty.

“I… would guess that would be me,” he said, his tone uncertain.

“Where’s the Tribune and your Centurion?” Leon demanded to know, though he could make a guess. Neither the company Centurion nor the Tribune that had been marching with them could be seen.

The Prefect took a deep breath and nodded in the direction of several of the incinerated corpses, telling Leon that his guess was accurate.

Leon swore under his breath and did his best to suppress the instinct to charge into the tree line and find whoever did this. But that would be reckless and potentially suicidal, even with Maia at his side. He still couldn’t sense anyone out in the trees, meaning that there was someone or something out there capable of evading their senses, and that made them eminently dangerous.

Still, the hours of trudging along the shore constantly on edge for the inevitable attack had made him eager for a fight. He wanted nothing more than to release all of that pent-up frustration by charging into the trees and hunting down whoever had done this.

But there were no clues to go on, not from his current vantage point. He’d need to get much closer and look for any tracks, and even then, there were no guarantees that he’d find anything.

Leon grimaced as he cast his gaze around to the other companies. He couldn’t abandon them like that, and he wasn’t sure as to the wisdom of having everyone charge into the tree line chasing an invisible enemy. To make that any kind of viable, they needed a fortified position to fall back to, which they currently lacked.

Leon swore under his breath again, glad only for the fact this his helmet kept his frustration from being too obvious.

“Leon!” Gaius called out, and as Leon turned his head, he saw the other man pointing to the ships off in the distance, and at one of the dreadnoughts that had quite a spectacular array of signal flags flying above its central tower, along with a recently-launched flare lazily falling through the air. “Sir Sigebert is asking what’s going on!”

“Tell him what happened,” Leon said through gritted teeth as his eyes turned back toward the tree line. “We’re… going to keep moving. Get the injured on litters, we have to keep moving,” Leon reluctantly ordered, and none of the surrounding marines gave him any grief over it. It took a few minutes and another company to break formation to help out, but they eventually got moving again without further incident.

Leon didn’t help much. He’d replaced his sword for his bow and a spell arrow, and he stared out into the trees just waiting for someone to poke their head out and make themselves a nice target.

But he saw no one. There were no follow-ups to the sudden strike, no matter how vulnerable those who were rounding up the dead and injured may have appeared. No new explosion spells tore through their ranks, either.

’It’s almost like he’s mocking me,’ Leon thought with a scowl marring his face.

Once they did get moving, Leon pushed them hard. He took his place back at the front of the column, but his attention was always on the jungle, just waiting practically with bated breath for another attack. He was somewhat disappointed when nothing happened, though. He just led the column onward toward the sacked city without incident, moving quickly and not stopping at any more of the seemingly abandoned farms.

---

“Are you sure you want them to just get away like that?” Rolf asked Jormun as they watched side-by-side as the Legion marines continued on after Jormun had activated one of the explosive mines that he’d buried. They hadn’t gotten too close to the vast majority of the others, unfortunately, this had been the first real chance they had to do a little bit of damage to the Bull so far.

“Yes, that was just a little reminder that we’re here and that we’re watching,” Jormun explained. “We don’t need to do anymore than that, not until tonight.”

The two were in a small cave, one of several that Jormun had set up around the island that had been heavily warded against magic senses. There was just about enough room for Jormun’s entire crew to rest, and after the time they had finishing up Jormun’s disposal of the people who lived in the Bull Kingdom’s colony, Jormun was more than happy to give them that time. What they’d done was strenuous, after all, especially when he refrained from telling all of them exactly why what they’d done had been necessary.

Jormun couldn’t help but smile in excited anticipation for the moment when their deed was discovered by the Bull. It might take a couple days, but it would eventually be found. It would hit the Bull’s morale like a hammer and inspire a great deal of terror in all those who saw it, that much Jormun was certain of, and he wanted to see it happen, he wanted to see the looks of revulsion and horror as the Bull’s agents found their colonists.

“You should know, Captain,” Rolf said as he leaned his giant frame a little closer to Jormun and lowered his voice to a quiet mumble, “there are some in the crew—and in the rest of our fleet—who are getting concerned. The Bull is walking over islands now, and we don’t seem to be resisting as vigorously as we could be…”

Jormun carefully controlled his expression to not show off his disdain and mild frustration. One of the biggest reasons he was able to get so many of his Islander brethren to sign on with him was the promise of vengeance against the Bull’s aggression. Their faith in the Serpent he’d spoken of was another big factor, but Jormun knew that their patience had their limits. He’d have to do a little more than leaving a few remotely-triggered explosive traps here and there if he wanted to retain their loyalty and service—which he did, at least for a little while longer.

“How are the farmers doing?” Jormun asked with a fake smile plastered over his face, though Rolf didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“They’re scared, but grateful that we came for them before they could be placed under the Bull’s yoke again,” the immense man replied.

“Good,” Jormun said. “Just remember, my friend, that this is all part of the plan.” As the pirate spoke, he raised his voice, letting it echo throughout the small cave so that his entire crew could hear him well. “The Bull Kingdom will not hold these islands, even if they manage to retake them for a week or a month. Of that, there can be no doubt. Not with me and certainly not with the Serpent on our side. They will fail and leave these islands stained red with their blood as proof of that failure. But we can’t take them on in a straight fight. Look at what happened with Kraterok; even with the support of the Flame Lances, they still lost by a wide margin.

“No, we have to play this smart. We have to lure them further into our islands, bleeding them along the way. When the time comes that we must fight them properly, the battle will be on our terms, not on theirs, and they will have left such a great trail of their dead in their wake that if any survivors remain, they’ll be able to walk home over the corpses of their friends and the debris of their ships!”

That drew out a great cheer from Jormun’s crew—from those of the Serpentine Isles, at least. Some of his crew were from farther away and didn’t share that same enthusiasm, but they were still here with him and that was what counted.

Jormun continued on in that vein for a little while longer, but inside he was smiling to himself at how well everything was going. He’d had to give some of the huge pile of weapons and artifacts he’d acquired during his long life on the seas to some of the locals to ensure they remained on his side and to steel their hearts against the Bull, but if everything went off as he foresaw, he’d hardly need any of those artifacts ever again. Better for him to squeeze just a little bit more use out of them and buy some loyalty rather than just leaving all of them to rot.

But even then, Jormun knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep the Bull from taking this island. All of the people who called it home rising up at the same time wouldn’t be enough resistance to keep the Bull from taking the Islanders’ towns and villages.

Not that Jormun cared all that much about the towns and villages, though.

‘Let the Bull have these disgusting islands,’ Jormun thought to himself as his smile turned genuine. ‘They won’t be able to keep them once I rule the seas!’

“Now, get some rest!” Jormun shouted to his crew as he finished his speech. “Tonight, we’re going to give those bovine bastards a real black eye that they won’t forget!”

Another great cheer rose up from his crew, and Jormun turned his attention back to the entrance of the cave and past the wards he’d carved into the entrance. It was frustrating, but he had to at least pretend to care about the Bull Kingdom and their inexorable advance every once and while. If he didn’t, his crew might abandon him, and then he would have a much more difficult time opening the last few locks in the Serpent’s final seal.

Eventually, Jormun found his attention being drawn in Leon’s direction. The things that the Serpent had shown him about that young man flashed through his mind again—the bird cloaked in lightning, the great serpent falling below the weight of its power. Jormun’s smile grew wider, and he found himself looking forward to speaking with the young man again. At the very least, he hoped that it would be Leon who found what he’d done to the Bull’s colonists. It was a project that begged for attention, and of all those in the Bull’s fleets, Leon was the only one that had managed to grab Jormun’s attention for any length of time.