The Storm King

Leon enjoyed his brief time in Vale Town. Torfinn was just as welcoming as he always was, despite the years that had passed and the strength that Leon had gathered for himself. Leon didn’t get too into the details of why he’d come and what he’d done in the past couple decades when he first walked in, as Torfinn’s thanes and more powerful warriors were busy feasting, but once everyone had either drunk themselves unconscious or went home for the night, Leon and Torfinn were largely left alone.

Once relatively alone, Leon spoke at length with Torfinn, reminiscing about the time when Leon and Artorias were still living in the Forest of Black and White, and still made regular appearances in Vale Town. Torfinn was a man that Leon had no reservations about mourning his father with, the pain of Artorias’ absence still stinging even more than twenty years later.

Leon didn’t get into why he’d come back to the Vales, and when Torfinn assumed it was to visit his father’s grave, Leon didn’t argue with it. He was certainly going to do that, so it wasn’t like Torfinn had guessed incorrectly, but Leon was here for the Iron Needle, though he wasn’t about to advertise that fact.

Together, the two spoke long into the night, with only Anzu there to give them any company, though the griffin had decided to catch some sleep while he could. Not once did he return to human form during the feast, which meant that no one tried roping him into any conversations. Nor did they try to seduce him, which Leon wasn’t so lucky to get avoid; Freya was older and no longer as forward as she used to be, but other female warriors in Torfinn’s longhouse looked at him with heat in their eyes. A couple even acted on that attraction, chatting him up and making veiled and not-so-veiled statements about their plans for after the feast.

With as much grace and politeness as he could, Leon had turned them all down. In the end, not even Torfinn could convince him to stay the night, even though his offer didn’t come with sex attached. Instead, after catching up with Torfinn—and Freya, Asbjorn, and Harald when they were still sober and conscious—Leon woke Anzu up, and they left the longhouse so late in the evening that it had become early.

Anzu hadn’t been entirely thrilled, but Leon was eager to get to that Needle now that they were so close. Besides, it wasn’t like anything was stopping them from returning to Vale Town after they retrieved it.

‘If we retrieve…’ Leon thought with no small amount of apprehension. While he fully believed the Thunderbird when she said that the Iron Needle would not accept any master other than one of her blood, the fact that the Grave Warden himself was unable to take the Iron Needle after killing Jason Keraunos still left doubts creeping into Leon’s mind. The level of power that the Grave Warden possessed wasn’t easily ignored, yet the Iron Needle had ignored it. Leon’s power was but a spark in the wind compared to the Grave Warden’s, yet he was here to attempt something that Ambrose couldn’t accomplish.

These thoughts bounced around his head the entire way back to the Forest of Black and White. It took a fairly long time, with Leon flying relatively slowly in human form while Anzu coasted along at his side. They moved at a lazy enough pace that they only reached the edge of the Brown Bear Tribe’s vale an hour later when they could’ve made the distance in half that. Then, instead of flying over the mountains, Leon took them through the pass he and his father had always used to reach the Brown Bears.

He was ninth-tier, but the Frozen Mountains Range was a place where humans couldn’t live. Without constant human habitation, monsters and beasts roamed the snowy peaks, made strong, fierce, and wild by the unforgiving landscape. So, Leon took them through the pass, both for safety and nostalgia.

They emerged on the other side as the sun started to peak over the mountains on the other side of Leon’s home vale. Almost as soon as it did, Leon breathed in and, for the first time in almost two decades, he smelled home again. The bright, vibrant colors of his childhood home, the sheer diversity of plants adding their aromas to the vale, it all brought him back to a simpler time, and he couldn’t help but stop at the mouth of the pass, looking out over the sea of green and pale blue leaves, interspersed here and there by pockets of colored grass and flowers of every shade and hue.

“This is the Forest of Black and White?” Anzu whispered, having transformed back into human form as Leon stopped.

“Yes,” Leon whispered, quiet joy practically dripping from his tone.

“It’s a bad name for such a colorful place,” Anzu quipped.

“It was named for the trees,” Leon indicated, smiling as he went through the same explanation he’d had to make the previous time he’d brought others to his childhood home. “Though, I think there was a certain degree of irony in the name, too.”

Anzu slowly nodded, and stood there, taking in the sights and sounds just as Leon was.

“There is great strength here,” Anzu whispered. “And more of my kind.”

“Griffins roost in the mountains of the northwest,” Leon said. “I found you in the Border Mountains to the south of here, remember. You might be picking up on traces of blood relatives if you’re sensing your own kind.”

Anzu scowled. “They ceased to be relatives the moment they abandoned me,” he growled.

Leon lightly frowned. Anzu had never indicated any kind of resentment for his mother or father, so Leon hadn’t thought it much of an issue, though he’d obviously never spoken before reaching the eighth-tier. From his tone, Leon could tell that Anzu had strong negative feelings on the matter.

A few comforting words bounced around Leon’s head, but none of them felt genuine enough for him. So, after a moment of awkward silence, Leon laid a hand on Anzu’s shoulder and simply stated, “You’re my brother, now.”

Anzu’s lips turned upward, into a bitter smile. “I could ask for no better family,” he said.

“I mean, it’s me, so you probably could,” Leon frankly replied.

“Never,” Anzu replied.

Leon had to fight now to smile like a child promised his favorite candy, and the two descended back into silence.

“All right,” Leon said as he reimposed a more stoic demeanor, the purpose of their quest northward coming back to the fore, “let’s get going, why don’t we? Before we smother ourselves in honied affection.”

“I could use a little honey, though,” Anzu murmured. “Pork, lightly salted, dipped in warm honey… Or some spiced bear…”

“All right, all right, come on,” Leon said, pulling his brother-by-choice down from the mountain pass and into the Forest of Black and White. “We can grab some black-iron bear before we leave, at least.”

Together, they strode into the forest, Leon lost in nostalgia while Anzu was lost in wonder. The further they moved, the more Leon wanted to spend more and more time there, from visiting his childhood home, to spending a night in the Heartwood grove and checking out the waterfall where Maia’s aunt lived. However, Leon forced himself to clamp down hard on those desires, recognizing that if he started thinking that way, he might never leave. He loved the Forest of Black and White, and now that he was ninth-tier, he felt none of the terror that had forced him out when he was sixteen. He struggled with the ice wraiths found deeper in the forest, but now, he didn’t think they’d be any threat at all.

Soon enough, they reached the Divine Scar, the massive rift carved into the western reaches of the Forest of Black and White. Being able to see the entirety of it with his magic senses, Leon was clearly able to see how it had been formed from something falling in a southerly direction—the Iron Needle, no doubt—for the ravine grew both wider and deeper the further south it stretched. At the northern end, it was already fairly wide and deep, but at its southernmost point, Leon, even now, couldn’t see or sense the bottom. It was just a gaping black maw, opened by the impact of something powerful a spectacularly long time ago.

Standing at the ravine’s edge, Leon stared down into the darkness below. There wasn’t an easy way down for someone climbing, but that was hardly an issue for someone like him, who could fly. However, there was a power down there that he could just barely sense, a charge that almost felt like tingles running along his scalp and lifting his hairs one by one.

[My Needle’s down there…] the Thunderbird whispered from Leon’s soul realm. [There can be no mistaking it. I carried it within my sword for far too long to be wrong. My Needle is waiting for you, Leon.]

[I…] Leon began to respond, but he cut himself off. It was easy enough to explain the distant electrical power he could feel was the Iron Needle, a Universe Fragment that the Thunderbird had told him was essentially the master of all lightning. But he could sense other powers down in the ravine, too, powers that he couldn’t quite identify. They were simply too far away, too drowned out by the power of the Needle, or both. Finishing his thought, Leon responded to his Ancestor, [I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.]

[Of course it won’t,] the Thunderbird scoffed. [Life is never that simple, and power attracts power. My Needle has been down there for thousands of years, by the looks of it, and that’s plenty of time for other things attracted by the power it holds to take up residence in the crater it left behind.]

Leon clicked his tongue in displeasure. [Given the kind of creatures that live in this forest, that’s not encouraging.]

[Worried about ice demons?] the Thunderbird asked.

[Wraiths, banshees, and more besides. Who knows what kind of ancient monsters lived in this forest before them? What could still be down there…]

[Don’t get too lost in speculating, boy. This is still the plane of a Grave Warden. It’s ruled by an incredibly powerful human who wouldn’t let a powerful monster loose into his playground. Not to mention this plane is located almost right next to the Nexus, the center of human power in the universe. If there are monsters down there, none of them would be post-Apotheosis.]

[A monster doesn’t need to have achieved Apotheosis in order to threaten me.]

[No, but the list of monsters that can is small. And down there, in a place inundated with lightning magic, you’ll hold the advantage.]

Leon’s frown grew deeper, but he couldn’t counter the Thunderbird’s claims. He could barely sense what was down in the ravine, or even further into the earth if the Iron Needle hadn’t stopped at the southern edge, which Leon suspected. If he had to guess, he’d say that the Iron Needle bit the earth, creating the ravine he now stood above, and continued downward, boring deep into the earth.

But Leon cut those thoughts off. He could only make so many conjectures with what he could sense; he had to start confirming them eventually. So, he straightened up and glanced at Anzu.

“Anzu,” he whispered seriously.

Anzu looked at him, his blood-red eyes meeting Leon’s gold, and Leon saw both disappointment and understanding there. “I’m staying here, aren’t I?” he asked.

“I think that’s for the best, yes,” Leon answered. “I would love nothing more than for you to follow me down there, but…” He glanced back down into the ravine. “Well, that’s a lie. I’d rather you stay out of this place. I’m starting to think that I’d rather I stayed out of this place, too. But the Needle’s down there, so down there is where I’m going. And in order to claim the Needle…”

“You have to impress it.”

“Yes. I will venture down there alone.”

Anzu grimaced, then locked eyes with Leon again. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Leon nodded. “Don’t wait longer than a week.”

“A whole week?”

“I’m being generous. Hopefully, this won’t even take a day, and I don’t want to be left behind.”

It was Anzu’s turn to clap Leon on the shoulder.

“I’ll be here, waiting for you,” he promised.

Leon smiled at his griffin, took a few more moments to steady himself, study the ravine, and take a few deep breaths. Then, he did away with his hesitation and leaped forward, plunging almost immediately downward.

The ravine was relatively shallow at the northern end, so Leon reached the bottom quickly. He could see it from the top, so he found nothing unusual yet. But he glanced back up to where Anzu was watching and waved before picking his way around the broken rocks at the bottom of the ravine, following the path south carved by the Iron Needle as it fell from the sky who-knew-how-long ago.

The ground was broken, but Leon didn’t once consider lifting off into the air. He couldn’t place why, but even here, where he could still see the sky, Leon felt like something was watching him. He felt like if he took off and tried to fly down into the deeper ends of the ravine, he’d only be making himself a target for the things that lived in this pit. So he kept going, his feet never leaving the ground for long.

The ravine grew darker the deeper he went, despite the sky growing brighter as the sun climbed higher in the sky. It started becoming a little clearer to Leon that there was more at play here than just the Iron Needle as the ravine walls started to take on a glossy black look that hadn’t been apparent from further up—a clear sign of some kind of darkness magic.

And then, like he’d tripped a wire or stepped on a pressure plate, a torrent of darkness magic seemed to explode from ahead of him, rushing northward through the ravine. Leon barely had time to summon his mental defenses and flood his body with the Thunderbird’s lightning before it was on him, enveloping his body in an ocean of inky black darkness and blotting out the bright, sunny sky above.

Almost at the same time, the air was pierced by the shrieking of banshees, and Leon, his magic senses not dampened much by the darkness magic, could feel them flying toward him, eight in number, and each one possessed of around fourth or fifth-tier strength.

Even with his power, the shrieking of the skeletal creatures surrounding by clouds of darkness almost pierced his eardrums, and he felt the magic in his body painfully resonate. The pain was hardly debilitating, and he responded a second later by extending his right hand and releasing his lightning. Eight lightning bolts erupted from his fingers, so bright that the darkness surrounding Leon was pushed back, the accompanying thunder so loud that the walls of the ravine shook, striking the banshees and killing them almost instantly. Leon didn’t hold back, and the darkness surrounding the creatures was torn apart, the corpse-like, childish bodies within rent asunder by Leon’s power.

In but a moment, the banshees were destroyed. In but another moment, the darkness that the ravine had been plunged into receded, letting the sun’s rays shine once more into the depths of the cloven rift.

Leon took only a second to catch his breath, steady himself, and armor up before he proceeded onward. This time, however, he conjured into his left gauntlet’s enchantment slot his anti-darkness gem. He also checked his armor’s anti-darkness wards once more as he picked his way around the smaller cracks and jagged pillars of the ravine floor.

[I sense… a significant demonic presence within…] Xaphan muttered.

[Ice demons? Ice wraiths?] Leon asked.

[Yes,] was the crackling response.

[Strong?]

[Yes.]

‘Wonderful,’ Leon sarcastically thought to himself as he continued onward and downward, unabated.

Soon enough, the ravine started growing deep enough that even the sky above could hardly be seen, and Leon knew that he was straying into the section that couldn’t be seen from above, either. He slowed down slightly, but he could still see and sense his surroundings well enough that he wasn’t any more or less concerned.

Strangely, the ground and walls started to become less jagged and destroyed, like rocks eroding in a river, smoothing out the further Leon pushed.

And then he reached it. The end of the ravine, but not his path. He’d moved for miles, walked at a brisk pace for several hours, and finally came to the wide southern tip of the ravine. Just as he’d suspected, the Iron Needle wasn’t before him, but instead had bored much, much deeper into the earth, if what he could sense with his magic senses was at all accurate. There was power further down, in the massive cave it had carved on its way down, blocking his magic senses in a manner completely unlike more common wards. Instead of scattering his magic senses, it was instead like he was being blinded; there was so much power down there, so much magic in the air, that he simply couldn’t see past it. It was like a light shining into his eye, the halo blotting everything else out.

He could feel the lightning magic clearer now, though he could feel everything else, too. A chill in the air, causing his breath to hang, visible, in front of his mouth. The soft, unsettling darkness that blanketed the walls, giving them their glossy texture. The sense of eyes upon him, and hands waiting to claw at his vulnerable human body.

Leon shivered slightly, but with hardly a pause, he plunged deeper into the earth. He was set on getting that Iron Needle, and a few banshees or wraiths or whatever else lived in the Needle’s wake wasn’t going to stop him.