The Storm King

For a week Leon and his party ‘rested’ in Raikos. In truth, though, no one got very much rest, for while the Jaguar Tribe was generous with their accommodations, Leon and his people still had to field audience requests from various elders and Clan Chiefs who’d come to pay their respects and swear oaths of loyalty to Leon.

For all this, Leon was rather bemused. While he was grateful for the show of loyalty from the Jaguars, seemingly to a man, pledging themselves to him, he found it almost too easy and spent more than a few hours wondering when the shoe was going to drop.

He vented much of the resulting stress with calls to Elise and Cassandra, made with his comm lotus. Fortunately, nothing of much note had taken place back in Occulara, putting Leon’s mind at ease. He also helped his people call their loved ones as well, if they so wished, something which Alcander never hesitated to make use of. In all, Leon was rather content with the progress made.

On the more official side, the Jaguars had sent out missives to the Screaming Eagles and the Heart-Stabbing Hawks requesting their presence in Raikos to meet with Leon. Leon hadn’t been too keen on summoning them like that, but he was persuaded that it was Kingly behavior to summon his rightful subordinates. If they refused to show up, or even to respond at all, then he would know where their loyalties lay.

However, Leon feared that being so heavy-handed as soon as he arrived wouldn’t win him any friends, and though he eventually bowed to the Jaguar Tribe’s elders’ knowledge of the Hawks and Eagles, he still quietly assumed that winning them to his side was not going to be so easy. He was ready to head back to Raimondas and the Hawks’ capital at the drop of a hat.

At the same time, messages were sent out across Kataigida, though only to Chiefs and elders, informing them all of Leon’s arrival. Leon was, again, not optimistic about the expected results, but given it was simply informing everything that he was now here, he required less convincing to assent to.

At the end of the week, as he was finishing up dealing with all of the elders and Chiefs of the constituent Clans that made up the Jaguar Tribe, an invitation was presented to him by the Jaguar himself, bidding him join one of the ninth-tier elders at the summit of a small mountain close to Raikos. The only reason Leon had to hesitate was that the specific mountain was called the Rock of Blood. Still, Leon accepted the invitation, and soon after found himself and his retinue at the top of the mountain in question, having had to walk most of the way through thick forest and up the steep slopes with how many wards had been set around it.

The top of the mountain was fairly flat, occupied by a fairly sizable altar. The Jaguar assured him that, despite how it looked, it wasn’t for sacrifice or any real ceremony, but was designed to be a place for the elders to come and silently commune with the Blood Thunder Jaguar.

To put it simply, Leon found the place rather off-putting. The not-altar was dominated by a huge statue of who Leon could only assume was the Blood Thunder Jaguar itself, looking like it was prowling around the edge of the platform and coldly regarding whoever stood upon it. Its eyes were made of glittering rubies and its black claws were wet with red blood-like liquid, forming small pools beneath the statue.

Waiting for them at the top of the mountain was the aged Jaguar elder himself, his pale face lined with wrinkles, sitting in the center of the stone platform. Nikolaos, Leon had been told his name was.

“Leon,” he whispered upon their arrival. “My King,” he added as he rose, then bowed deeply at the waist, showing a sprightly vigor belied by his aged appearance. “Thank you for accepting my invitation today.”

Leon politely nodded, but as he’d asked her to do, Alix quickly interjected and asked, “What’cha doin’? What is this place?”

The elder took her informal demeanor entirely in stride, responding, “The home of our Honored Ancestor. As much as he needs a home, anyway.”

“Is that blood down there?” Alix bluntly asked, pointing to the red liquid constantly wetting the statue’s claws.

“I… do not believe so,” the elder said. “Not real blood, though perhaps its appearance has been invoked as a threat or statement of power? Alas, no records of the statue’s creation have been left, leaving us to only guess as to the intent behind my ancestors’ creation.”

“I think it’s blood,” Alix said.

Throughout the exchange, Leon kept a close eye on the Jaguar and the elder, though neither seemed at all aggrieved and, his curiosity sated, when Alix turned back to the group, he whispered directly into her mind, [That’s enough, thank you.]

She shot him a subtle smile and joined the rest of his retinue.

“Your assumption is understandable,” the Jaguar said. “I always believed it to be blood, myself.”

“That seems like it would be quite the pain to clean,” Marcus observed.

“Just lick it all up,” Red growled. “Waste of good blood to let dry on a rock!”

As if she were going to do just that, she took a few steps forward, only to be stopped by Anzu. “Blood is tasty enough, but not when it’s been left out in the sun for too long. Or with a human tongue.”

Red frowned, then backed away with a quiet shrug.

“I hope no one’s going to be taste-testing this ‘blood’,” Valeria said to the retinue, though keeping her eye on Red.

The wyvern studiously avoided her gaze, but said, “It probably tastes terrible, anyway.”

“Apologies for my retinue,” Leon said to the Jaguar and Nikolaos. “Obviously, we’re not going to do something so uncouth as to lick your Ancestor’s statue.”

“I would hope not,” the elder said, though his words were spoken in relatively good cheer. The Jaguar was a little more subdued but nodded along.

“So,” Leon said, “I appreciate your invitation, but I have to admit to having some curiosity about why it was extended, and to come here of all places. Seems an important place for your people, I wouldn’t have expected you to allow someone outside of your Tribe to see it.”

“You are our King,” the elder said, the Jaguar notably taking a step back and deferring to the elder despite being of the same tier as him. “Nothing in our Tribe is off-limits to the blood of the Thunderbird.”

Leon’s smile grew wider, though it had taken on a more self-deprecating quality.

“I’ve heard,” he slowly began, “that it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. But… at this point, my curiosity just won’t go away…”

As he spoke, Valeria quietly stepped forward and gently took his arm, drawing his attention. He glanced at her, registering a look of warning in her sapphire gaze. However, Maia then stepped forward, took Leon’s other arm, and gave Valeria a look of reproach. Undaunted, Valeria stared back, not backing down from her concerned warning.

“Is… this a sensitive topic?” the elder diplomatically asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Leon said more to Valeria than to the elder.

Valeria sighed, then shrugged, let go of Leon’s arm, and stepped back, followed by Maia a moment later.

“So, as I was saying,” Leon said after giving his ladies another conciliatory smile, “I have to ask, even if it’s rude of me to draw attention to it, why you’re supporting me so readily? Is it just your traditions, or is there something more? If it’s something more, then that’s fine, I just want to know.”

Nikolaos chuckled. “It pains me to imagine what kind of life you’ve lived to be unable to imagine anyone aiding you without ulterior motives… though I suppose it’s warranted after the disrespect shown to you by my fellow elder…”

Leon smiled at the thought of Theophilos. The man had met his expectations, at least. Putting that aside for the moment, he explained, “I am the last of the Thunderbird Clan. My blood is valuable. I have never been in such a blessed position to forget that fact, and most of my current alliances are based entirely on what I’m able to provide in return for safety, security, and autonomy. I’ve had to sell much that many would consider mine to secure myself and my family against those who wouldn’t hesitate to exploit what my blood could give them.”

“A truly terrible state of affairs,” Nikolaos whispered. “Allow me to put your fears to rest once and for all. We in the Jaguar Tribe have always prided ourselves on our honor and loyalty. The jaguar is a solitary beast, and we take after it to some degree, but we hold nothing higher than loyalty to our kin and kith. Related to that is our love of our traditions, for it is in our traditions that we show our love and devotion to our own. Our traditions were established to ensure peace and harmony within our Tribe—the Chiefs to rule each Clan, and the elders to seek wisdom and guide them. To respect our Ancestors and honor them as we do our living heroes.”

“It is these things that the Thunderer demands we leave behind,” the Jaguar growled. “To set aside our tribal councils, our Chiefs, our ways of life. He demands that we forget our Ancestors and tell ourselves that we are all one people.”

“But we are not,” the aged elder continued. “Our blood is different, our power is different. We live differently, we die differently. We are a confederation of Tribes, we do not bow to those who demand that we forsake all that we hold dear in the name of ‘unity’.”

“Are not some of these reforms beneficial?” Leon asked. “Wouldn’t the Ten Tribes greatly benefit from a single unified tax structure, a single military, a single centralized ruling body?”

“Perhaps,” the Jaguar conceded through clenched teeth. “What would we give up if we were to accept this, though? How much is definition-less ‘prosperity’ worth next to our very identities? I am of the Old Jaguar, and that will never be forgotten.”

“From where I stand,” Leon said, “some of these reforms sound useful enough that would e tempted to insist upon them were I to become your King in truth.”

“You are already our King in truth,” Nikolaos replied. “Were it your decree, I would hope only that it not be done with the intent of destroying who we are as a people. Though some of us would decry the whole thing as an illegal and immoral power grab…” the elder gave the Jaguar a cheeky glare, “… there are ways I can see a centralized military work. The Thunderer is giving no thought to making it work. He demands that our units integrate, that we forsake all that makes us unique in exchange for homogenous units. He’s gone on record saying that he believes that which gives us our strength, our Tribes, are obsolete.”

“If he finds our ways too appalling, he ought to give up the power that he inherited from his Ancestor,” the Jaguar spat. “Drain himself of all the blood he so despises. He mauls all who came before and demands we change to fit his vision of who we should be. I will not dance to his tune just because he demands it.”

“Is there no way, then, to force a Thunderer to step down?” Leon asked. “How have those who occupied the office in the past given up power?”

“Death,” Nikolaos said. “Thunderers are rarely declared when not at war, and more often than not, those appointed by the Elder Council in Stormhollow will die in the prosecution of a war they were called to fight—almost always against the usurpers across the sea. On those rare occasions where they don’t die in battle, they’ll usually give up power upon the conclusion of the war. On those even rarer occasions when they weren’t called up to fight, they will leave after a matter of a few years.”

“And the current Thunderer has been in office for decades,” the Jaguar added.

“That long?” Marcus whispered from behind Leon. “What was he even called up to do?!”

“To strengthen us,” the Jaguar explained. “I was there when he was acclaimed. He only needed a simple majority, and barely managed to get the votes promising to reform our ‘stagnant’ ways and ‘rebuild’ us anew.”

“I assume the Tigers, Bears, and Spiders all voted in favor?” Leon asked, to which the Jaguar nodded.

“Many Hart and Lion elders, as well. A smattering of Eagles and Ravens, but none of the Hawks or Jaguars.”

“That bodes well for matters with the Hawks,” Alcander observed.

“Not necessarily,” Gaius countered. “If they didn’t vote for the Thunderer, then that could just mean that they don’t want anyone telling them what to do, not even a King.”

“Maybe even especially not a King,” Marcus added.

Leon gave Nikolaos and the Jaguar an expectant look, hoping for some additional context.

His look was answered when Nikolaos said, “They will hear you out, at least.”

Leon frowned slightly, but he supposed that was enough for now.

“Will you still support me, then, if I don’t repeal all of the Thunderer’s reforms?” he asked.

“That would depend,” Nikolaos said after sharing a look with the Jaguar. “We support you because you are our rightful King. Your power once ruled over all of us, and more. It is a proven power, one that we can all follow. If the Ten Tribes are to be united, then it will be within your shadow, not that of the Thunderer.”

“There may be those who don’t want to stick to my shadow,” Leon said, leaving his question unspoken, though giving the Jaguar and the elder meaningful looks.

“They may not have a choice in that regard,” the Jaguar responded.

“No,” Nikolaos rebuked, and the Jaguar jumped slightly. “We ought not to prepare to kill our partners.”

“Indeed,” Leon agreed. “A Kingdom that destroys itself through civil war isn’t one I want to lead.”

“That attitude, at least, we can support unconditionally,” the elder said with a smile.

Silence settled about them for a moment before Leon finally said, “I suppose that sates my curiosity enough. I will try and accept your people’s support without waiting for demands or betrayals.”

“We hope to prove ourselves worthy of that trust,” Nikolaos responded.

“I hope so, too. Now, you didn’t invite me all the way here to discuss my own insecurities, though I can talk about those for a long time. What did you need of me?”

The elder sighed and said, “For the same reason there are no others here with us. I would, if my King is willing, partake in the offered transformation enchantment.”

Leon blinked in surprise. “I thought you were too attached to your human forms for that.”

“The prospect still terrifies me,” Nikolaos admitted. “What if I get stuck in some other form? What if it maims me in some way? What if I lose my sense of identity and my will becomes not my own? Would I die, and my body continues without me? The thought… these thoughts have occupied me for days. And yet, I can’t seem to shake myself of the temptation. None of my fellow elders would join me in this, and neither would I want them to. Test the enchantment upon me, and use the results to either convince my people to use it for themselves, or use it to convince yourself not to offer it again.”

“Just curiosity?” Leon asked. “Is there no other reason?”

“I am old,” Nikolaos answered. “More than a thousand years I’ve walked this plane. I will die in the next couple of decades, should I not manage to reach the tenth-tier. Even if I do, it will only delay my death by a century at most. Better to let me die in service of my people rather than at home like an invalid.”

Leon took a long moment to think over the possibility, and was quite surprised when Xaphan spoke up from within.

[Are you hesitating, boy? He’s asked for it, let the old bastard have it. Could be fun seeing how much he fucks it up. Maybe he’ll explode or turn inside out?]

[Are you actually trying to convince me to give him the enchantment or not? These are reasons not to do so.]

[Ah, yes, you’re a human boy who dislikes things like ‘blood’ and ‘death’ and ‘irreparable maiming’. You’re to be a proper King, and proper Kings don’t hesitate like this. You have the opportunity to strengthen a strong potential devotee, don’t waste it.]

[That’s the most sense you’ve made yet,] Leon responded.

Aloud, he said, “Very well. I’ll give you the enchantment and explain how it’s to be built. This will take a while, it’s a complex thing not confined to only two dimensions…”

“I think you’ll find me a good student,” Nikolaos responded.

Leon then began to explain to Nikolaos how and where the enchantment was to be established: in his soul realm and using a massive cylindrical pit. He gave the elder proper measured dimensions for how much space he’d need, and only once all of that was done did he start bringing out the diagrams. Given the sheer size of the enchantment, however, he didn’t expect the elder to actually try it for a long time.

Before they’d even really started getting the first diagrams into place, one of Nikolaos’ servants came running up to the top of the mountain. He was a youngish fourth-tier who looked completely wiped by the ascent, and he gasped, “Your Majesty! My elders! The Thunderer is on his way! He’ll be here in a matter of hours!”

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