The Storm King

The Jaguar stared out at the scene before him with utter disbelief. The fleets that had taken the Sword, sailing back into port at Raimondas. So many had returned despite the barbarians undoubtedly still reeling from their losses. Now was the time to press their advantage, not return to Kataigida and kick back!

And yet, return to Kataigida was exactly what the Thunderer had done, apparently. He’d pulled thousands of their warriors, more than a dozen arks, and hundreds of warships back from the Sword, hopefully leaving enough to hold the island against the inevitable counterattack, while refusing to press against the savage Kingdoms along the coast. It was utterly baffling…

… Or at least, it would be, if the Jaguar didn’t know exactly why the Thunderer returned. He hadn’t thought that the Thunderer would care that much, or treat the matter with such seriousness, but the Jaguar had known that Elina would’ve informed the Thunderer about the Raptor. The Thunderer knew as well as anyone in the Jaguar Tribe that an heir to the old Storm Kings had been located.

‘By now, many of the Chiefs and elders will know…’ the Jaguar thought with some cynicism. Though none, he thought, would know any of the specifics. It was the Thunderer that most concerned him, though.

A challenger to his power, one with a claim stronger than the Thunderer’s own, had been located.

The more the Jaguar thought about it, as he stared at the hundreds of ships slowly sliding into dock, the more sense it made. The Thunderer, if he wanted to retain his power, had to return to Kataigida, and he had to bring his most loyal troops with him to ensure his hold on power was retained.

And therein lay the crux of the matter that had so concerned the Jaguar for so many years. It was in the best interests of Kataigida to keep the war they’d now re-escalated as far from their shores as possible, to keep their people safe and their base of operations intact. The usurpers could get through the misty veil protecting their island, but if the Ten Tribes pressed them hard enough, then they wouldn’t have the opportunity. It was in the best interests of the Ten Tribes to push onward from the Sword to the mainland. It was in their best interests not to recall the bulk of their fighting forces to their island, no matter how smashing their successes had been, so far.

It was only in the Thunderer’s interest to return.

The Jaguar fought to keep the scowl off his face as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with others of high standing among the Ten Tribes. Many were already present in the city, awaiting word from the Thunderer of his next movements so that they could relay that news back to their respective Tribes. The largest contingent, though, were the huge group of elders present from the local Tribe.

The city of Raimondas was one of the largest on Kataigida, and as a result, was the center of power for one of the largest of the Ten Tribes: the Screaming Eagles. The Tribe was composed of more than a hundred Clans, and had a council of a hundred and one elders. They were almost double the size of the Jaguar Tribe, though in strength, the Jaguars were a little more favorably compared.

Fortunately, the Jaguars and Screaming Eagles were on remarkably good terms, a relationship that the Jaguar himself had done much to foster, having been in command of the fleets guarding the western shores—the Screaming Eagles’ territory, for the most part—for centuries. He was quite proud to stand next to them.

Unfortunately, they were far more loyal to the Thunderer than he was—though, thankfully not fanatically so. Still, he’d refrained from telling them any specifics of the Raptor, unsure of what their response would be. He could easily see them supporting his attempts to get to the mainland, but he could just as easily see them attempting to stop him from attempting to bring back the old order.

As a result, his feelings were quite low as he watched the Thunderer’s flagship slowly slide back into dock. His mood was fouled even more when the Thunderer himself came into view.

To his credit, he barely waited the time needed for the gangplanks to lower before he strode down to the docks, his powerful frame striking an imposing figure as he hurried to greet the elders.

He was a tall and powerfully-built man. He stood more than six feet tall, his body rippled with muscle, and his thick red hair was cut short. His chiseled face was clean-shaven, presenting the image of a consummate, respectful professional, despite his Booming Brown Bear Tribe being known for long, wild hair and thick, bushy beards. He wore an immaculately tailored suit: a black shirt, long black jacket trimmed in gold, plain gray trousers, and dark brown boots—a plain uniform that the rest of his entourage following him wore that eschewed the excesses that a man of his station might’ve otherwise embraced.

He was clearly a man projecting the image of competent humility, not one that the Elder Council needed to worry about. But he also radiated a tenth-tier aura, and the Jaguar didn’t trust any man with such power.

“Lord Thunder,” greeted the first of the Eagle Chiefs present, his gray hair pulled back into a tight braid with white feathers woven throughout, “we’re honored to receive you.”

“As am I for being so augustly received,” the Thunderer replied, his voice surprisingly high-pitched for his size. “But, please, and I mean no disrespect when I say this, but could we move this inside? My troops are tired after seizing the Sword from the barbarians, and we must get them accommodated first.”

The Thunderer’s words spat in the face of their traditions, disregarding their typical formal greetings, and emphasized ‘his’ troops. The Jaguar couldn’t help but glare, but no one else seemed perturbed—or at least, those that might’ve been insulted wore their anger a little less obviously than the Jaguar presumed he was.

The Thunderer’s intense gaze swept over the entire crowd, lingered briefly on him, and then moved on. The Screaming Eagles moved to fulfill the Thunderer’s ‘request’ and moved their entire tribal council back to their gathering hall while the Thunderer worked to disembark his people.

---

As the Jaguar stood outside of the Screaming Eagle’s gathering hall, he couldn’t help but watch the Thunderer the entire time. The man ordered the local dockworkers around like he was supreme in the city, and allowed his Inquisitors to lock down the entire route from the docks to the gathering hall, not letting anyone through. The Jaguar even saw several local Eagles beaten for not moving out of their way quickly enough.

When the Thunderer finally deigned to head for the gathering hall, hours had passed, and he yet he seemed in no hurry at all. When he reached the central courtyard outside of the gathering hall, where the Eagles had their own Tribal Totem similar to what the Jaguars had in Raikos, the Thunderer stepped right up to it, flanked on all sides by a dozen ninth-tier tribesmen, and made quite the show of paying his respects to the images of the Screaming Eagle itself, and the founding members of the Tribe.

And, of course, the image of the Thunderbird at the top of the totem pole.

Accompanying the Thunderer were a hundred officers and their adjutants, though only two drew the Jaguar’s gaze, each ninth-tier: the first, a tall, thin woman with pale skin and severe features. Even here, she was fully encased in armor save for her helmet, with a vicious-looking mace hanging from her belt. She regarded her surroundings with gray eyes narrowed in suspicion, constantly on the lookout for potential threats.

Linda, the High Inquisitor.

The second didn’t glare around at their surroundings as Linda did, but instead reserved his disdain for the Jaguar. As soon as they came within visual range, his glare never once wavered from the Jaguar, and from the way he clutched his fingers and flexed his aura, if the Thunderer were to order him to attack the Jaguar, he’d be halfway across the courtyard before the Thunderer finished speaking.

He was a powerfully-built man, worthy of his Star-Tearing Tiger lineage. He was rather dark of skin, with bright orange hair kept rather long, and yellow eyes perpetually narrowed in a predatory glower.

Hector, twin brother of the Chief of the Raging Tiger Clan, the leading Clan in the Tiger Tribe descended from the Star-Tearing Tiger. The Tigers were also close allies of the Jaguars, but none of that warmth could be seen in Hector’s glare, not that the Jaguar could expect any after all these years. He and Hector had once been good friends, but neither had considered the other a friend in centuries.

“Lord Jaguar!” the Thunderer exclaimed as soon as the ceremonies were finished. “I apologize for any insult I may have made earlier, long voyages tend to muddle the mind, as I’m sure you’re aware…”

The Thunderer smiled at him with nothing less than complete honesty, but the Jaguar found it mocking, at best. He certainly didn’t appreciate the Thunderer walking forward with his arms outstretched as if to pull him into an embrace.

“Old friend,” the Thunderer said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around the Jaguar, the Jaguar’s feeling on the matter ignored if they were noticed at all. “I heard of your triumph over the barbarians at Argos. The twin blades pointed at our throat, the Sword and that accursed city both, have been blunted or seized, and the cities of the Shield have been razed. This truly is the beginning of a glorious age, wouldn’t you agree?”

For what he thought might be the first time, the Jaguar found himself agreeing with the Thunderer. “Indeed,” he whispered as he extricated himself from the Thunderer. “And for more reasons besides…”

“Do you speak of the young boy that you found in Argos? The one that good Elina almost fell over herself to inform me of? Supposedly descended from the Most Venerable, isn’t that right?” The Thunderer glanced backward at the Tribal Totem—specifically, at the carved avian figure at the top.

The Jaguar schooled his expression as best he could to avoid an overt grimace. “Indeed. To see the lineage of the Thunderbird itself survive after so long was a joy. I spared Argos some brutality for that fact alone.”

The flesh around the Thunderer’s eyes tightened slightly, but the man wore nothing but a welcoming smile. “A commendable decision, of course! A commendable decision! Now, as much as I would love nothing more than to swap stories with you over our respective triumphs, I think we ought to head inside, no? We’ve left these elders to their own devices for long enough, I say!”

Without waiting for a response, the Thunderer marched right into the gathering hall, his followers living up to that title as they filed past the Jaguar. Only Hector paused long enough to exchange words, whispering with bitter hatred, “Was almost surprised to see you here instead of over the ashes of Argos. But then, you’ve never been reliable, have you?” Without waiting for a response, Hector continued on inside.

The Jaguar himself was in no mood to engage, sighing as his one-time-friend followed the Thunderer inside. Instead, he paid attention to exactly who followed the Thunderer inside, for he’d noticed something earlier, and he wanted to confirm it with his own eyes.

Every single officer that followed the Thunderer into the gathering hall were from the Thunderer’s personal forces.

The armies of Kataigida were formed by each individual Tribe contributing a force to their mutual defense. The Jaguar commanded his Tribe’s military arm. The Thunderer, however, ever since his accession, had formed a new force, one without reliance on voluntary contributions from the Tribes. Instead, it only required a voluntary enlistment by individual tribesmen.

The Jaguar didn’t see much wrong with the concept—it had even been tried before by other Thunderers and other acts of the Elder Council in Stormhollow. However, such forces were typically fairly small and short-lived, none lasting for longer than a millennium. Still, the Jaguar wasn’t alone in his thoughts, and when the Thunderer had first proposed such a force, there hadn’t been much pushback.

However, the Thunderer’s force was much larger than any formed in Kataigida’s history. That in and of itself was a problem, but not what was triggering the Jaguar’s suspicion in that moment.

Instead, what had him suspicious was what he wasn’t seeing: other Tribal representatives.

The Thunderer’s army, as large as it was, wasn’t nearly large enough to take on the Sword all by itself. It needed ships and arks provided by the other Tribes, it needed supplies and equipment that it couldn’t get all by itself, and it needed the armies and navies of three other Tribes to accompany it to the Sword.

None of those Tribal armies had returned, as far as the Jaguar could tell. The Thunderer had returned to Kataigida with his personal army, and left the armies of three Tribes behind on the Sword.

The Jaguar sighed, but inside, his heart raced. He wondered if leaving for the mainland was even a wise idea at this point. If the Thunderer wanted to cement his rule over the Ten Tribes, then now was perhaps the best time to do so militarily, but the Jaguar didn’t think that the Thunderer was quite there, yet. He didn’t know if the army the Thunderer had built, comprised entirely of tribesmen, would fight their own brothers and sisters if the Thunderer demanded it of them.

The Jaguar walked into the gathering hall, hoping he’d never have to learn the answers to those questions, but fearing that such knowledge would be his sooner than he thought.

---

The meeting with the Thunderer and the Screaming Eagles’ elders went smoothly, and the Jaguar was at least gratified to see the Thunderer observing proper customs this time around. However, as a guest himself, the Jaguar didn’t participate at all in the ceremonies, and left as soon as he could get out without showing any disrespect.

His goals, at least, weren’t here in Raimondas. However, before he could proceed, he found himself chased down by the Thunderer himself, now unburdened by followers, all of whom had remained behind in the gathering hall. The Thunderer caught up with him just a few streets away from the gathering hall as the Jaguar proceeded back to the docks.

“Lord Jaguar!” he’d called out as he swiftly ran over, apparently disregarding any potential harm to his dignity that such a scene might cause. “Please, wait a moment!”

Unable to refuse such a blatant and reasonable request, the Jaguar acquiesced, and turned to face the Thunderer.

“I saw you leave, and simply had to check in with you,” the Thunderer said by way of explanation. “I was hoping to break words with for a while, besides. This whole thing with the boy in Argos is news that ought to be discussed, no?”

“Indeed,” the Jaguar tersely replied.

The Thunderer waited a moment for the Jaguar to continue, and when the Jaguar silently refused, he asked, “Do you have some problem with me, my friend? Have I offended you in some way? If I have, please be honest with me and tell me of it, so that I can make it right…”

The entreaty seemed honest enough, but the Jaguar didn’t believe a second of it. “I distrust all those in power,” he simply stated.

“That can’t be all,” the Thunderer replied. “Please, if there is some discord between us, let us put it to rest, I would hate for fellow sons of Kataigida to be at odds with each other.”

“There is no need,” the Jaguar replied with a thin smile.

“Still, I can’t help but feel that there is some gulf between us. We both act for the greater good of our people, we should be working together without allowing any issues between us to fester! Why don’t you tell me what brings you to Raimondas, and we can work out a solution to this problem together!”

“Why does any problem need to exist for me to visit my friends in the Screaming Eagles?” the Jaguar innocently asked. “My Tribe’s fleets are moored not far from here, and I must remain in constant contact with them. If the barbarians attempt to retaliate, even if they have been greatly weakened we would suffer greatly if they caught us unawares.”

“Such vigilance is worthy of great commendation,” the Thunderer responded enthusiastically. “I feared that you were going to attempt to reach the mainland in a vain attempt to make contact with this Argossian ‘Raptor’. I’m glad that I don’t need to talk you out of such foolishness. After all, this ‘Raptor’ belongs to Heaven’s Eye, our sworn enemy, does he not? Even if he possesses ancient power, we must assume hostility, especially since he contested your righteous sacking of Argos!”

“I only do what I must for of my Tribe and for the Ten Tribes,” the Jaguar said, wary of directly lying to the Thunderer. Such an act might prompt intervention by the Inquisitors, and if that happened, then Kataigida might truly be drawn into civil war.

“As do we all,” the Thunderer seemingly agreed as he threw an arm around the Jaguar’s shoulders and began strolling down the street, practically dragging the Jaguar with him. They were heading in the direction of the docks, the Jaguar couldn’t help but notice… “Listen, my friend,” the Thunderer continued, “the other reason why I hoped to catch you before doing anything foolish was to update you on the situation in the west, given that you’re our valiant aegis from threats born in that direction.

“The Sword has been taken and secured. However, the seas are still contested in the adjacent seas. To have a hope to reach the mainland right now is to delude oneself. Unfortunate though it is, we must temper our desire to acquire more glory and content ourselves with these gains. For now, we must consolidate our position and ensure that the inevitable barbarian counterattack doesn’t render all of this death moot.”

The Jaguar contained a smirk, seeing through the Thunderer’s act. He was spooked by Elina’s news and had returned to Kataigida to hold his position. At the same time, the Jaguar’s mission to reach the mainland was made that much more complicated. Without the Thunderer’s ships patrolling the seas around the Sword or raiding nearby barbarian cities, the Jaguar would have to contend with barbarian patrols and sizable military forces to accomplish his task.

“I might just see what I can do about that,” the Jaguar flatly stated. “Head over to the Sword, see if I can whip those garrisons into shape.”

The Thunderer didn’t hesitate a moment to agree, practically roaring, “Capital idea, old friend! But does this not leave your armies without a leader? What might happen if you are needed back here?”

“I trust those left behind in my stead,” the Jaguar said with a pointed look, a subtle warning to the Thunderer’s subtle threat. “I am not the only capable war leader amongst the Jaguars.”

“Of course,” the Thunderer replied good-naturedly. “The stories of Kataigida are replete with stories of your Ancestors diligently guarding the rest of us from danger! All of Kataigida owes much to the Jaguar Tribe!”

After a few more minutes, they started approaching the docks. As a result, it was only then that they started walking past other people, the streets locked down by the Thunderer’s Inquisitors now behind them.

“Well, my friend,” the Thunderer said, “I wish you luck in your endeavors. It brings me no small amount of peace of mind to know that you secure our western flank against those who do Kataigida harm.”

“I am but a humble servant of the Ten Tribes,” the Jaguar replied.

“And we’re lucky to have you. May our enemies tremble at the mention of your name.”

The Jaguar smirked. “With bloody fangs, our enemies will tremble,” he recited.

With that, the Thunderer finally released his iron hold around the Jaguar’s shoulders and halted as the Jaguar proceeded further into the docks.

He couldn’t help but seethe inside, though. Now, he wasn’t sure quite how he was going to reach the mainland. It seemed he’d have to improvise and wait for an opportunity. Unfortunately, it seemed that his mission, which had at first seemed like it would take months at most, might now take years.

‘Yet another benefit for the Thunderer…’ the Jaguar thought with dismay. But his resolve was unshaken. He’d find the Raptor even if it took a century. A Prince of the blood was too valuable to all of Kataigida to leave in the hands of barbarians.