The Storm King

“Wow…” Katerina murmured. “I had no idea such a place was below my home this whole time…”

“Indeed,” Leon whispered as he studied the golem head he’d laid upon the table. “A crime that I had to destroy such an old and advanced golem, but it couldn’t be helped. I just wish that the rest of the facility had been intact, it could’ve been a treasure trove of information and magical technology.”

Katerina commiserated with Leon, the knowledge of such a find on her property having been destroyed causing her no small amount of grief.

Talal, however, stared at Leon, and Leon guessed the man knew he was lying—or at least, not telling the whole truth. He’d been with Leon ten years, now, and Leon was sure that the man was familiar enough with his quirks to recognize that much. He was also familiar enough with Leon to not contradict him in front of Katerina.

Leon resisted the urge to smile. After dealing with the ancient prisoner, he’d burned the corpse to ash and set about destroying the bottom floor of the golem manufactory. There wasn’t much there, anyway, since most of the other rooms had already been destroyed when they’d caved in. In the room the labor golems came from, though he found not only several boxes full of copper and silver in various forms, but broken golem parts and another human skeleton. He couldn’t do much for a pile of dusty bones, and the parts were mostly just shattered pieces of bronze that were of no use to anyone, but he quickly grabbed the copper and silver, understanding that they were probably the stolen supplies that Katerina had told him about. He also grabbed all of the broken golem pieces, useless though they may be.

The three labor golems, however, were not useless. But he didn’t need all of them, and he still needed some kind of story to tell Katerina, so on the spot, he’d torn the head of the damaged, limping golem clean off, trusting that his blood would keep the other two from reacting. He was right, and the other two didn’t so much as twitch. Leon then pulled the other two golems, plus most of the remains of the third into his soul realm and went back to work wrecking the bottom floor of the facility, ensuring that he left nothing behind that someone could use against him.

Fortunately, this was easy to do now that the facility was completely out of power after the prisoner had been executed. Leon had to jump up the magic lift in order to reach the second floor, but a few small explosion spells had the lift shaft caved in, the enchantments that were supposed to keep it running now utterly failed.

When he reached the surface again, he told Talal and Katerina about the golem he’d encountered down below, and how it had been hostile and that the explosions they’d heard had come from their brief but intense fight. He reasoned that this golem had been the ‘ghost’ that her workers had been seeing, and in that, he didn’t think he was incorrect. He figured the supplies he’d found were probably stolen by the golems still trying to fulfill their functions after all this time, stockpiling materials that were brought to the manufactory.

But that still left the question of just what in the hells had been going on with Katerina’s workers. The floor of her cellar had only collapsed a few weeks ago, but they’d apparently been hearing voices and seeing things for months.

Leon had no real answers. Perhaps the workers were just superstitious or lazy. However, he thought it was more likely that the prisoner had noticed the construction work and had been trying to reach out with his magic body, hoping for someone to realize he was there and to do something to help him. Unfortunately, that man was now dead, and Leon had no way to verify that theory.

Regardless, it seemed like his work here was done. He’d destroyed everything that was worth destroying down there, the manufactory reduced to an open hallway with a few broken doors leading to caved-in rooms. Even if someone went down to investigate and find anything worthwhile, Leon doubted they’d find anything that could upset the balance of power, especially with what the Empires had already taken from his clan. He and Talal left Katerina with the instruction to contact them immediately if anything more turned up, but Leon didn’t think that likely.

So, when he and Talal left the villa, he was content with his gains and certain that nothing dangerous had been left behind. His mind was already excitedly turning to the tests he would put his two new labor golems through once he returned home.

However, even as he left the villa and began flying back home, Anzu on his heels and Talal taking a more conventional horseless carriage, his racing mind turned to other concerns—namely, the prisoner. Embezzlement, theft, and treason, the former two charges justifying the latter one. The freeing of slaves had earned that man a sentence of eighty-thousandish years as a magic power generator, barely clinging to life.

‘Excessive’ was the first word that came to Leon’s mind, though it was mitigated somewhat by the fact that he couldn’t imagine anyone would’ve thought the prisoner was going to be down there for so long. On the other hand, the sentence was to remain there until death. The manufactory was also quite small, with what seemed to be only a single room devoted to golem manufacturing. There were other rooms, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that the place was quite small.

Despite its size, it had multiple prisoners acting as magic power generators, as evidenced by the other skeletons in that room.

[Nestor,] Leon said into his soul realm as he flew down the street toward the nearest bridge that would take him back south of the Scamander River, [I have a wonder.]

[Wonder away,] Nestor replied. [I’m here for such things, am I not?]

Leon nodded and frowned lightly. [How widespread was the use of humans as generators for magic power? Or other living things? Xaphan was used as one, you used Justin Isynos and an ice demon as one, along with other beings… And now we find that that small golem factory had a room like that. How standard was this practice?]

[It was fairly common,] Nestor explained with neither hesitation nor shame. [Bigger facilities had them as a matter of course, as we couldn’t afford to have them run out of power. Smaller facilities were given such capabilities on a case-by-case basis. The manufacture of golems was a critical industry, and so it makes sense to me why such a facility, despite its size, would have a magic power generator like that.]

Leon nodded again, but he didn’t stop frowning. [How many places like that existed in your time? How many on this plane alone? Can you say?]

Nestor went silent for a long moment. [I can’t,] he admitted. [The number would’ve been in the thousands. We weren’t in the habit of giving up resources, no matter how common they might be. In this case, magic power isn’t exactly hard to store—or at least, it wasn’t for us. But our power needs were tremendous, and every little bit counted. So, why would we pass by the opportunity to off-load some of that power responsibility onto those who were destined for death, anyway? Or for those who had offended us?]

Leon grunted and bitterly smiled. [That ‘those who had offended us’ kind of makes my point, I think. I can understand, though I don’t agree with, the idea of using those on death row like that. They’re resources, why waste them?]

[Exactly,] Nestor said.

[However, it comes down to a thought that humans are resources, and nothing more, doesn’t it? So how long did it take for it to go from only those on death row, to simply those who had offended you? Was there ever even a separation, or did you just start doing both as soon as you had the capability? Everyone was fair game to use as resources right from the beginning?]

[Is that judgment I hear?] Nestor growled. [You don’t know a thing about how to wield real power, boy. Power provides for the Clan. Power ensures the Clan’s survival and prosperity. Power keeps the jackals at bay, prevents them from taking what’s ours. To shun a source of power for moral or philosophical reasons will only end in your defeat. Judge us all you want, but we built a Kingdom that lasted since the beginning of this era! Since the Age of the Primal Gods and Devils we’ve thrived! You have no idea how to handle power! How to keep the power you’ve attained! How to prevent the greedy shits beneath and around you from taking what you’ve fought and bled and killed for! All you know how to do is ride on our coattails, take your power for granted, and screw around with your little retinue playing as a Lord! You have no place to judge us!]

[It took less than a single universal cycle for the Clan to fall,] Leon countered, ignoring Nestor’s tone. It sounded like the man was venting quite a few frustrations that had built up over the years, but Leon wasn’t going to just let him go on like that without pushing back. [I’m all that’s left. Not even a hundred thousand years, not even a single cycle of the Nexus, and our universe-spanning Clan has been reduced to a single boy in the Divine Graveyard. How much does that say about our Clan’s ability to hold onto power? Jason Keraunos died, and the Clan fell apart. It sounds to me like instead of keeping the jackals at bay, they were instead invited in and allowed to share in our spoils. Or can you say that’s not what happened with… what was his name? Pindar? Without Jason around to hold his leash, he immediately began slaughtering our vassals and trying to seize power.]

He could practically hear Nestor grinding his nonexistent teeth, but the dead man wasn’t done.

[A single case study,] he protested through clenched teeth. [We survived many upheavals in the past, and we’ve always come out on top.]

[And how many of those upheavals came from our own vassals?] Leon wondered. [How many times were the blades of those beneath us pointed in our direction? How many rebellions did the Clan have to suppress? Enough to fill our magic power generators to bursting, I’d wager.]

Nestor didn’t reply, but Leon guessed he’d struck the nail on the head.

[Look, Nestor,] Leon continued, [I’m trying not to judge. Really, I’m not. But everything you’ve told me of the Clan has painted a picture of a house of cards. A very, very impressive house of cards, but still just as fragile. It has taken nothing less than a few great men and women of every generation to keep the peace, to keep our Clan afloat and guide them through tough times. But then, when tough times came—tough times of our own making, I’d remind you, for the Grave Warden did not seek us out—and all our great men and women were dead, the Clan immediately collapsed. All of our power was gone, and now, eighty-thousand years later, I’m all that’s left.

[Fear kept our vassals in line more than anything else, or at least, that’s the impression I’ve gotten. Fear of what we would do to those who defied us. Fear of our reputation for victory. But we were also hated. And when Jason Keraunos was killed, we were no longer feared. Only hated. And we were torn apart by our enemies from within and without.]

[You can’t know all of that,] Nestor whispered angrily.

[No, I can’t,] Leon admitted. [However, it rings fairly true on Aeterna, from what I’ve seen, and I would bet an impressive sum that the same will ring true when we reach Kypros, Minos, and Tiryns. When we finally reach the old roots of our Clan and can see the remains for ourselves.]

[How about you just make your point,] Nestor demanded.

[Fear wasn’t enough to maintain our power,] Leon said. [We weren’t loved, either, not with our habit of treating those beneath us as commodities. Slaves, and magic power generators, and I don’t even know what else. I’m sure far more people were joyous at our Clan’s downfall than who mourned.]

[And how would you solve that?] Nestor asked, his tone one of almost mocking disdain. [You, a boy of thirty-one, who’s never held a real title before, who’s never been truly in a place to make these decisions before? How would you like to fix this ‘problem’ for the Clan you wish to build? Replace fear with love? Love doesn’t motivate people quite like fear, and it doesn’t keep them in line…]

[If that’s the term you want to go with, sure, I’ll use it too. I think you’re selling ‘love’ a bit short,] Leon replied, [but even still, no, that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that I want both fear and love in equal measure. I would agree that love doesn’t hold the same motivational power as fear, but love can keep us secure by not making us enemies and winning us friends. It’s a tool that we shouldn’t throw away, thinking it beneath us, or that it’s only for the naïve.]

[So, what, you’re just going to ask our enemies for all of our power back? You’re going to rebuild the Clan with love? Going to try and fuck them really good so that they’ll do what you want them to do, just like your silver wench?]

[Again, no,] Leon said with rapidly growing fury, the only thing keeping him from diving into his soul realm to roast Nestor for the crack about Valeria being the fact that he was flying through the streets of Occulara and he didn’t want to stop. [To rebuild the Clan, I’ll need to conquer. But I can’t rule with the same kind of iron fist that our Clan did—I can’t be hated as we were. I want us to last for millions of years more without having to rely upon the appearance of great men or women. And that means not taking slaves, not treating people like they’re nothing more than resources. Fear and love in equal measure. Mutual respect, but without shying away from violence if the need calls for it.]

Nestor didn’t immediately respond, but after a few moments, he smugly shot back, [An easy thing to say now, when you’re in no position to do anything. We’ll see how long that philosophy lasts when you finally get some real power. If you finally get some real power.]

Leon frowned again. [I suppose we will…]

---

“These things are incredible,” Valeria exclaimed excitedly as she and Leon inspected the labor golems that he’d brought back.

“That they are,” Leon responded with a healthy dose of awe in his tone.

In front of them on one of Leon’s tables was the remains of the bronze golem he’d destroyed to fabricate his story to Katerina. The other two golems were beside it with some of their plating removed, exposing their internal workings for Leon and Valeria to study.

And neither of them could even really tell what they were looking at. Bands of silver beneath the bronze plates, glowing crystals, copper and iron components of so many different configurations that Leon could hardly even comprehend them. The golems were as much mechanical as they were magical.

The most important of these components, however, was buried in each golem’s chest, behind additional heavily enchanted bronze plating that Leon wasn’t willing to try and remove. Behind that plating lay a crystal construct within which dwelled the wisp powering the golem—an autonomous construct of post-Apotheosis magic power. Living creatures from a certain perspective, but not self-aware, and bound completely to the control enchantments wrought into each golem frame.

They had the potential to grow into true living creatures, as the stone giants in the north showed, but this was apparently such a fluke that it wasn’t out of humane concern that Leon refused to screw with the wisp containers, but more practical worries that he might break something he wasn’t yet able to fix. He and Valeria were studying the golems, but he still wanted them intact.

Unfortunately, they were only able to spend a couple of hours studying the golems before a light appeared by the door of Leon’s workshop with a loud, continuous chime.

Valeria smiled as Leon sighed. “Sounds like someone’s looking for you,” she said playfully, bumping his hip with hers.

“Could be looking for you, you never know,” Leon countered.

“Want to bet on it?” she inquired with a devious look in her sapphire eyes.

“Uuh, no, I think I’ll pass on that,” Leon replied with a bitter smile.

“Damn, I could’ve used a backrub or something…”

“No need for that to be a bet,” Leon whispered, running his hands along her shoulders, reluctantly stopping as the insistent chiming of his workshop’s doorbell continued.

Valeria giggled as Leon sighed, pulled away from her, and headed back out into his workshop’s atrium, giving her a look of promise that they were going to finish what they’d just started later.

Waiting for him in the atrium was Talal, along with a messenger from Heaven’s Eye. The Director had requested Leon come to his office the following morning for a new assignment. Leon was certain he knew what that assignment would be, and he met it with a mix of excitement and dejection—the former because of just what it was, and the latter because it would mean he’d have to leave Occulara for several months just when he’d found some intriguing things to study.

When he went back into his workshop, Valeria seemed to pick up on his conflicting moods.

“The Director?” she asked.

Leon nodded.

“Let me guess, he’s sending you to join the wyvern hunts?”

Leon tilted his head. “He’s giving me a new assignment tomorrow, but that’s my assumption.”

Valeria grinned wickedly, and her eyes flitted over to the corner of his workshop where a large contraption was covered by a thin sheet to keep the dust off it—a project that Leon had been working on before picking up the contract to forge Sunlight.

“Sounds like a good opportunity to put that thing through some real-life testing,” she pointed out with obvious anticipation.

Leon grimaced. “I’d like to put it through any testing at all before dragging it out to a real-life scenario, especially one that’s likely to be rather chaotic, like a wyvern hunt.”

“What say we finish this up, then?” Valeria suggested. “Maybe we should bring in someone else to help with the note-taking, it’s kind of slowing me down…”

Leon grinned, and with a wave of his hand and a flash of magical light, he summoned the Librarian, the golem that was ‘in charge’ of the golems that had maintained his family’s archives in Teira.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Leon said.

Together, and with some input from Nestor, Leon and Valeria, with the note-taking assistance of the Librarian, dove back into studying the labor golems, both understanding that this was probably going to be the last time they’d have so much time to devote to this task before it came time to leave for the southeast.