The Storm King

The wind was in his feathers, his talons were raking across the hide of his serpentine enemy, and the clouds above bent themselves to his whim, all the energy they contained his to do with as he pleased. The power of the Heavens was at his command, requiring nothing more than a mere wisp of intent to manipulate.

This was joy to him. He’d rarely ever felt anything like it; only those times when he was with his mates would his joy surpass this. It was absolute freedom—freedom from the earth, and freedom from earthly expectations.

And yet, there was fury there, too. Murderous rage so intense that it drove his joy deep into his mind until he could barely feel it. And then pain, sharp and bitter cold as it bore deep into his shoulder—

Leon bolted upright, his eyes opening in panic as his left arm went to his right shoulder, where he’d just felt that pain, a groan on his lips.

But he didn’t feel anything but his own shoulder when he grasped himself, and sure enough, when he turned his head, Leon saw naught but his shoulder, perfectly fine, clad in a dark green silkgrass tunic.

Leon sighed in relief as the pain of his dream faded, but then he took in his surroundings, and all the emotions of the dream faded as the mists of confusion rushed in to replace them.

He lay in a small grassy clearing, with the familiar white and dark brown trees of the Forest of Black and White surrounding him. At the edges of the clearing were the spectacularly multicolored bushes and flowers of his childhood home, bringing him both panic and comfort.

Something was obviously going on here. He felt more clear-minded than he had since arriving at the Serpentine Isles, clear-minded enough to immediately recognize that this was some kind of dream—it had to be, there was no way he’d just somehow been teleported to the Forest of Black and White. The clothes he was wearing—the same as he generally wore when he was a kid growing up here with his father—were also a clear sign that this wasn’t really happening.

So, Leon banished the growing panic as best he could and laid back down in the soft green grass. It had been a long day filled with violence, power, and things forcing their way into his mind. But he felt like it was over—at least, for now, and he needed to get some rest. Maia and the rest were still out there somewhere, but when he closed his eyes, he could feel Maia’s presence close by, and he felt like things were all right. He could rest here for a little while longer.

He closed his eyes and moved only to breathe. He lightly smiled as the familiar scents and noises of the Forest of Black and White filled his senses. This was only a dream, so he could enjoy these things at his leisure without worrying about ice wraiths or banshees.

After a while, though, his restful state became marginally less so. His mind had inevitably wandered, and while he greatly enjoyed this moment of rest, he’d begun thinking about his and his father’s compound, and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

Without moving, Leon quickly projected his magic senses, and was quite startled to find that he was only about half a mile away from his old home. It was still utterly ruined, but he figured that while he was here, even if it was only in a dream, he ought to go and pay his respects to his father, especially after these past few weeks where Artorias’ image had been invoked against him not once but twice.

Leon took a deep, steadying breath, and pushed himself to his feet. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to experience quiet like this for a while, so he took his time and savored every step he took on his way home. The wind in his hair, the sun on his face, and the sounds of distant forest animals going about their day, all of the old ambiance of his home he absorbed until he finally drew within direct sight of his old home, and he froze in sudden alarm.

With his magic senses, he’d clearly seen that his old home had been in the state he’d last seen it: completely broken, with all of the shacks burned to the ground, the walls destroyed, and much of the ruins trashed by the ice wraiths and reclaimed by nature.

However, his eyes told him a different story: the walls were pristine, just as they’d always been in his childhood. He couldn’t see within, but everything that he could physically see was telling him that the compound was intact. And he could hear the sounds of activity within.

Leon began giving the walls an apprehensive look. He wanted to know what was going on inside that he couldn’t see, but also very much did not. The side of him that did, won in that internal debate though, and he slowly, hesitantly began to walk toward the underground passage that would lead inside the walls. With his power, leaping over the walls would’ve been child’s play, but going in the proper way was only polite.

And he needed the extra time to walk around the walls to work up his nerve.

The pit to the short underground passage was just as he remembered: blocked by a fully intact wooden door. Unlike most of the rest of the compound, however, as he approached it, his magic senses seemed to reconcile what he was seeing with what they perceived, and he was able to sense the faint wisps of magic within the door that told him its defenses were still up.

That was hardly an obstacle to him, though; he knew exactly what those defenses were and how to safely get past them. He picked up the pace a bit and proceeded through the door and into the tunnel.

From up ahead, the sounds of activity were growing louder, and he recognized what he was hearing to be the sounds of training, and the occasional barked instruction. He couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the tenor and tone of the commanding voice.

He walked down the passage almost in a daze, knowing exactly what he would find when he ascended the stairs on the other side. When he did, he was not surprised.

He found Artorias training in the central square of the compound with a younger version of Leon, dodging, striking, teaching the younger Leon how to wield a blade. Every sword swing Leon recognized; he’d performed them himself enough times to pick out every little detail of his family’s aggressive fighting style, even though Artorias was taking a more passive role in his instruction than the style usually demanded.

Leon wasn’t sure how long he watched the two fight. He wasn’t even sure if they noticed he’d arrived, or if they even could notice him. They could just be projections, a memory his brain had recalled of a specific training session that he wasn’t able to consciously remember—his younger self appeared to be about eleven or twelve, so it had been almost a decade since this would’ve had to have taken place.

Eventually, the training session ended, and the younger Leon collapsed in front of the obelisk in the center of the compound, drenched in sweat and already starting to bruise where Artorias had made his lessons known a little more viscerally than words were capable. Leon’s eyes remained locked on his father as Artorias smiled at the younger Leon and whispered a few words to him that Leon wasn’t able to pick up.

And then Artorias turned around and locked eyes with Leon himself, standing at the top of the stairs.

“Waiting for an invitation, little lion?” Artorias asked with a wry smile, catching Leon entirely off-guard.

Leon stood there, his mouth hanging slightly open, his golden eyes wide and darting around in embarrassment, utterly at a loss as to what to do. This could just be a trick for all he knew; he called upon his lightning, just in case, and his body briefly sparked and crackled with silver-blue lightning—but what he was seeing didn’t change.

“You’ve certainly grown stronger,” Artorias said appreciatively, his smile becoming one of immense pride. “Come on in, kid. Let’s talk a while. It’s been a hot minute since we last saw each other.”

Artorias began walking toward the far end of the pavilion, and Leon noticed that his younger self had vanished without him even noticing. And then he realized that his magic senses had reconciled the interior of the compound, too, showing him the same things that his eyes were, and Leon momentarily bathed in the nostalgic high of returning to his childhood home, a place that he’d never thought he’d ever see again. This could all be a dream, or some kind of trick, but for the moment, Leon decided to set aside those thoughts. All of his senses were telling him that this was real, and his magic hadn’t caused anything to change.

Quickly, Leon followed Artorias to where a stag had already been skinned and prepared on the enchanted cooking counters that Artorias had built when they’d first moved here, so long ago that Leon couldn’t clearly remember it. The smell was delicious; there were Greenhand potatoes and other produce from Vale Town in whatever he was making, and Leon’s mouth began to water, just as his eyes were starting to do likewise.

Leon hurriedly wiped his eyes before Artorias could turn around.

“So, how have things been going, little lion?” Artorias asked as Leon approached from behind.

“Uh, it’s… um…” Leon stumbled over his words, “… fine, I guess. Actually, no, they’ve been terrible…”

Leon began telling Artorias of the campaign on the Serpentine Isles, giving him nothing more than the briefest of rundowns to not be too long-winded, but as he spoke, Artorias began asking questions, and Leon began to get into the story a little more, and the words just poured out of him. When he was finished with the Serpentine campaign, he even told his father of the other things he’d done since leaving the forest more than four years ago. By the time Leon had finished his story, he felt like he’d largely covered everything that had happened—or at least, the broad strokes—and that hours had passed. Both of them had finished eating by then, and Leon was feeling much more at ease and relaxed.

If this were a trick, he hoped it wouldn’t end anytime soon.

Artorias sat and listened as Leon spoke, only asking for clarification a few times, and when Leon was finished, he sat back and sighed in what to Leon sounded like amazement.

“That… was quite the story, little lion,” Artorias said.

“It’s been… a rough few years,” Leon admitted as he leaned back until he was flat on his back on the floor of the stone pavilion, looking up at the slowly darkening sky of his childhood home.

“Sounds like it,” Artorias responded. “Maybe some good parts, though? This girl ‘Elise’, and ‘Naiad’?”

Leon felt his cheeks heating up, but he kept himself as calm as he could when explained who they were to him.

“… They are the women I love,” he said in conclusion. “It kills me to be away; if they would ask me for the world, I would do everything I could to give it to them.”

“A bold declaration,” Artorias said. “Sounds a lot like how I feel about your mother.”

Leon felt the color in his cheeks swiftly drain and he started to sit up in panic. “Dad… about Valeria and her father—”

“Nope!” Artorias interrupted as he shot Leon a quick smile. “Don’t even worry about that, little lion. As far as I’m concerned, you did the right thing. Justin has been harshly punished, all of his people are dead, and you chose the future over the past. It sounds like it took you a while, but you steered yourself true.”

Leon laid back on the ground, his breath rate quick and shallow, but he took his father’s words to heart, even if he had a couple doubts about the choices he’d made regarding Valeria and her family.

“Little lion,” Artorias said, apparently noticing Leon’s mental state from his expressions alone, “I’m proud of you. I don’t think I would’ve made the same choice you did if I ever found this ‘Kamran’, or if I ever saw Ryker or Fain again after how they took Serana from us. I don’t think I’d be strong enough to do so…”

“Would anyone blame you if you did indulge that desire?” Leon wondered aloud. “I certainly wouldn’t.”

Artorias went quiet for a moment, a contemplative look in his eye. “No,” he said, “I suppose most would probably understand. Many would even applaud it, I think. That doesn’t make it right, though. If they fought tooth and nail to keep us separated, it may be a different story, but the way you found Justin Isynos… It’s better that you spared him. You’ll live with less regrets this way, and you’ll make less enemies. And more friends.”

It was Leon’s turn to go silent for a long moment. “I’ll never forgive him,” he stated when he found his tongue.

“Nor would I ever ask you to,” Artorias said with a cheeky grin. “He ordered me killed, I would hate it if you forgave him so easily. But sparing him and forgiving aren’t the same thing. Always remember what he did and keep an eye on him going forward.”

Leon nodded.

“Other than that, little lion, what are your plans next?”

Leon went silent again, unsure how to respond. He wasn’t sure how to proceed, whether in the long run or the short. He knew what he wanted, eventually, but not how to get there. Heaven’s Eye would be his ticket to the Central Empires, and from there he could use them as a springboard to achieve Apotheosis and enter the Nexus, then from there rebuild his Clan and find his mother, but the exact specifics of even just that much he had no idea.

“I… don’t know,” Leon eventually admitted. “I’ve… never really known what to do…”

“You seem to have done a good job so far,” Artorias replied a little playfully, but that playful demeanor vanished when he glanced at Leon and saw his son’s utterly lost expression.

“I can’t really say that anything I’ve done reflects well upon me,” Leon evenly stated, doing his best to control his expression and emotions to stop himself from just letting loose with all of his pent-up frustrations and grief. “Most of the problems I’ve gotten into have been resolved in spite of me, not because of anything I’ve done. I can’t really claim credit for anything, it’s all due to our bloodline…”

“Stop!” Artorias commanded, his tone turning stern. “Stop right there! Don’t go down that road, there’s nothing at the end of it, I assure you.”

Leon, with the calm of a man who was resigned to his situation, responded, “It’s true, though. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never known what to do. I can only make one decision at a time, and anything beyond that… I just… Ever since…”

Leon’s voice began to crack as his calm demeanor crumbled. His eyes watered, and it took all he had in him to keep those tears from falling.

“I love you, Dad,” he croaked. “Ever since you… I’ve felt alone and lost. I don’t know what to do…”

Artorias scooted a little closer and wrapped an arm around Leon’s shoulders.

“It’s all right, Leon,” he whispered soothingly into Leon’s ear. “No one who has the choice presented to them knows what to do at your age. You’re almost twenty-one, still barely a kid in the eyes of the powers-that-be. It’s all right to take a decade or two and figure out how to proceed. Being lost now is nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve never known what to do, either. When my father kicked me out for marrying your mother, I only had the vaguest idea of heading south to serve King Julius. After Serana was taken, I lost even that. We went north to the Vales because I had no other ideas of what to do. ‘Seclude ourselves beyond the reach of civilization’, that was my grand master plan for keeping us alive. Anywhere else, you could’ve been found. But even beyond that, I had no plans for what to do once you’d grown older, just some vague desires. I was not a man who knew what the hells he was doing—when you were born, I was only about your age, you know?”

Artorias paused, and he pulled Leon closer. He then gently turned Leon’s head in his direction until Leon’s golden eyes locked with his dark brown. And then, with the all the love and sincerity that he could express, Artorias continued.

“Focus on what you can do. Take some time and learn. You have good people around you, let them help you. And don’t be afraid to ask them for help. You don’t need to be a hundred steps ahead of our enemies, and you certainly don’t have to have your life planned out in exhaustive detail. Surround yourself with good people, and focus on what you can actually do.

“And always remember this: you are my son. You are the last son of House Raime. You are the son of Serana. You have everything you need to live up those names, and you will, I have no doubt of that. But even if you don’t think you will, or you have doubts of your own skill, it won’t change the fact that you’re still my son, and I will always love you. You have absolutely nothing to prove to me, or to anyone else. I don’t expect anything else from you other than for you to be happy. So long as you pursue that which makes you happy, then you’re living a far better life than I could’ve ever hoped for you. OK?”

Leon swallowed, and finally looked away from his father, his eyes turning back to the sky where they began to pick out familiar stars. It wasn’t long, though, before his eyes found the brightest star in the sky, the one in the exact center of the sky, unmoving, always there, the locus upon which the rest of the universe turned.

The Nexus.

He’d go there eventually, but it might take a great deal of time. In that case, there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t do as Artorias suggested. He would pursue that which made him happy, and he would surround himself with people he loved, and who could love him in return. He’d made a good start with Elise, Maia, and his small retinue, but this wouldn’t be enough. He’d need more.

How many more, he couldn’t say, and more importantly, he wouldn’t say. He’d take them as they came, and if they left, then so be it, but it wouldn’t be because he drove them away. When he did go to the Nexus, he wouldn’t be going alone; he wanted his family and a great many friends to be there with him.

“Thanks, Dad,” Leon whispered. “I… I think I have a better idea of what to do, now…”

Artorias simply smiled, and held his son a little tighter against him.

“Just be happy, kid. No one’s forcing you to do anything. Live a good and happy life, and no matter what, remember that I will always love you.”

Leon and Artorias laid there on the bare stone of the pavilion for a long while more. How long, Leon couldn’t say, for his eyes soon began to grow heavy, and he fell asleep. But he was ready for whatever would come next.

Whether or not this was just a dream didn’t matter; but he was ready to wake up.

---

Deep in Leon’s ravaged soul realm, still bathed in the red-orange light of the Great Black Dragon, still surrounded by the storm clouds of the Thunderbird as these two magnificent beings joined their power together to help Leon’s soul realm recover, was a long-forgotten corner of his vault.

This tiny point of his soul realm, no larger than perhaps an average walk-in closet, had completely frozen over, with frost covering every inch of the surrounding stone. However, long before the Thunderbird and Great Black Dragon finished their work, this ice began to melt as the power that created it receded, until only a small stone box remained frozen.

And after a time, even that box defrosted, as the power that had frozen it retreated into the cold, black Heartwood seed within.