The Storm King

“Clear Day,” Leon said in greeting as he joined the tau on the terrace.

“King Leon,” Clear politely responded. After a moment, he rose from his seat and gave Leon a deep, respectful bow. “You’ve achieved Apotheosis.”

“I have.”

“Congratulations.” Clear spoke with all the passion as if he were commenting on the weather, and Leon almost laughed at the absurdity of such a momentous occasion being treated so flippantly.

However, instead of laughing, Leon took the opportunity to examine Clear’s aura. It was calm, almost seamlessly blending into the magic power all around them. More interestingly was an almost ethereal quality to it, as if all other mages’ auras were acrid smoke while his was the purest of clouds. However, that didn’t detract from the colossal power that Leon could sense within the aura; a sure sign of origin power, he assumed. He wondered how his looked to Clear’s eyes.

“Took some doing,” Leon said after making his quick examination. “Got there in the end, though.”

“Your strategy worked?”

“Yes and no…” Leon quickly filled Clear in on all that happened and had been discussed already regarding his ascension.

“I see,” Clear thoughtfully whispered, his red eyes turning out to the Ontarii Sea. “Your explanation makes a lot more sense than what I had thought of the process.”

“Well, ‘letting nature take its course’ wasn’t an option for me.”

“Indeed.” Clear sighed and turned his eyes back to Leon. “Sometimes I forget that those around me are human. I am not like you, and achieving Apotheosis would naturally be different for me.”

Leon nodded in understanding. It was the traditional dichotomy of man and beast—a man was weak at birth, but through training and perseverance, could gain great magical power. A beast didn’t have to work their power, gaining it as they aged. So, the beasts started from a more powerful position, but humans who trained hard enough and had access to enough resources would eventually pass them.

Or, as Leon had heard it speculated, magic came naturally to beasts, but it was an unnatural adaptation for mankind.

“How is the world now that you see it through divine eyes?” Clear inquired.

“The same, yet different. So much more can be sensed, and I feel like I could change whatever I lay my eyes on.”

Clear grinned and tapped the stone railing. A perfect life-size replica of his tau form, which could’ve been mistaken for a dove to an untrained eye, grew from the stone as if a skilled earth mage had created a new statue to rest upon the railing. However, Leon could sense that Clear hadn’t used any earth magic, nor had he pulled from the existing stone—instead, he’d created the replica using nothing more than origin power.

Clear withdrew his hand, his smile a little more strained now. “I understand that feeling. At our level, our abilities to create using origin power are limited, but hardly nonexistent.”

With eyes glittering with excitement and potential, Leon laid his hand on a decorative pillar holding up the terrace’s roof. He called upon his origin power, manipulating it like he would his magic. With an image in his mind, he willed his origin power to take that shape with the same material as the pillar.

A moment later, a grotesque statue no larger than his head had grown from the pillar like a terrible tumor, that if looked at from the right angle, resembled in general shape a bird in flight.

“Shit,” Leon murmured. Around the malformed statue were marks on the pillar that showed he’d used a lot more stone that had already been there than he’d been intending to—less than half of the grotesquery his origin power had formed was from origin power itself. The rest was stone pulled from the pillar.

“It takes some practice,” Clear said. The roof groaned above them, the wooden rafters having been shaken by Leon’s attempt to create as Clear had done. “I’d urge you not to be so hasty, however; we wouldn’t want a section of your lovely palace to collapse after a pique of creativity on your part, would we?”

Feeling almost like a naughty child being lectured to, Leon frowned, but he couldn’t deny Clear’s point. He took a seat in a slight huff and indicated with a look that Clear ought to join him. The tau was only too happy to comply.

“I’ll practice more on my own, but for now… I wanted to ask you about your perspective.”

Clear gave him a searching look. “My perspective on what?”

“On Apotheosis. You achieved it long before I did. Surely you must’ve thought about it before.”

Clear frowned deeply. “I… I’m not sure I can say. I achieved Apotheosis so long ago that I can hardly remember what I was before. But I will say that I must remind myself that I am hardly immortal, simply ageless. Though I possess the power to destroy whole Kingdoms and devastate this plane, I will often remember the fate of Juntallio, a good friend of mine from a long, long time ago. He was a powerful mage; so much so that he was the hegemon of his time, much as you are now.” Clear’s expression darkened. “He was assassinated before he could achieve Apotheosis.” Clear’s dark red eyes turned to Leon, and Leon almost shivered at the sheer weight of his gaze. “How do you think he met his end?”

Leon frowned in thought. “A jealous political opponent?” he asked. “Someone whose power was threatened by Juntallio?”

“A safe bet; the powerful rarely enjoy having others rule over them. The ambitious might scheme against those they believe are vulnerable, or whose demise might benefit them in some way.” The tau sighed and propped his head up in his hand. “Such was not Juntallio’s fate. Instead, he was killed by… some guard. Some young man with no recognizable name. Some kid who thought himself deserving of more. When Juntallio disagreed, denying this young man a promotion he sought, the man was so aggrieved that he broke into my old friend’s meditation chamber while Juntallio was busy in his soul realm. He stabbed my vulnerable friend in the heart.”

Leon gravely nodded. The heart was a mage’s most vulnerable place as it was where they were connected to their soul realm.

“Juntallio was so severely injured that he died three days later,” Clear explained. “The assassin was tortured for the rest of his short life, and his name stricken from all records. He possessed only fourth-tier power.”

“No one’s truly immortal,” Leon mused aloud.

“No one,” Clear agreed. “Those of us who achieve Apotheosis can be worshipped as gods and gain powers that few others can imagine. But even a mortal could kill us in the right situation. This is what I think of Apotheosis: we now possess godlike power that can affect the world around us in ways we can hardly imagine. But we must always battle against our own hubris, the arrogant belief that because we’ve achieved this level of power we can do anything to anyone for any reason. It means we must be even more vigilant against the vices that take men like the former Sunlit Emperor.”

Leon wryly grinned. “Do you think I’m going to need such reminders?”

He only joked, but Clear fixed him in a deadly serious gaze. “We all need those reminders from time to time.”

All traces of levity vanished from Leon’s demeanor. “Consider me reminded, then.”

Clear nodded in acceptance. Silence stretched between them for several seconds before Leon spoke again.

“How was Rakos? The giants are experimenting with other golem bodies, aren’t they?”

“There are new MALL variants that have incorporated storm crystals. If the giants can fulfill the function of wisps, we will know soon. But, on a more personal level, I will say that they were eager to begin their tests, and those I witnessed were promising.”

“No deleterious effects on those who joined the tests?”

“None that were immediately apparent. The golems that young Mari’Kha and Nestor designed aren’t too dissimilar to the MALLs. I’d actually say that they’re far more complex than those weapons you created, Leon, and that the giants might find these new MALLs easier to control than a golem frame.”

Leon frowned and nodded in appreciation. “That’s good to hear. Hells, if the giants can adapt to the MALLs, then they could theoretically pilot almost any manufactured form, couldn’t they?”

“Theoretically.”

Leon’s lips turned upward in an almost greedy smile. “That creates quite a few design opportunities, doesn’t it?”

Clear shrugged. “You’re the enchanter, and you’re already many times the engineer that I could ever be. You tell me.”

With a laugh, Leon explained his thoughts. “I’m thinking about arks piloted entirely by the giants. Maybe have some golems in there for manual labor, but if the crew of an ark doesn’t have to have physical space within it to operate—think bedrooms and bathrooms and bridges and the like—then we might be able to free up ark design in ways I can hardly begin to fathom. Remove all the creature comforts, all the living space, from an ark, and you can have more room for power crystals, for weapons, for whatever else you may want to fit inside of that ark.

“And that’s not even touching on the possibilities of specializing the giants based on what form they may take. A giant in a MALL could reasonably be expected to also be able to pilot an ark that might otherwise have a crew of three, right? I mean—”

Leon cut himself off and gave Clear an almost embarrassed grin.

“I don’t want to get too into the weeds right now, but like I said, if the giants pull this off, then the opportunities are almost endless.”

“I’ll take your word for it. However, couldn’t some of what you are considering be done with wisps, too?”

It was Leon’s turn to shrug, and he didn’t let the chance go to waste. “The golems and wisps that I’ve interacted with so far would lead me to think that yes, they could fulfill some of these roles, but wisps are inherently limited things.” Leon paused and looked questioningly at Clear. “Have you never created a wisp yourself?”

“Never have I had any formal education on matters of magic,” Clear said, seemingly attempting to justify what he was about to say. Given his tone, Leon already knew what that answer was going to be. “How could I try and create something that I don’t know exists? Alas, such innovation has always been beyond me. I rarely dwell on powers that are not my own.”

“I suppose that’s understandable.” Though he conceded that much, Leon was still disappointed.

“I quite enjoy these kinds of talks,” Clear responded, his tone lightening considerably. He smiled at Leon and continued, “As with delusions of invincibility, sometimes I must remind myself that the limit of magic lies far beyond what I am personally capable of.”

“You’re capable of more than most,” Leon pointed out. “Entering and influencing dreams is a power that many would kill to have. It makes complete sense that you would spend your time specializing in your unique gifts. Is there anyone who criticizes me for specializing in lightning magic?”

Clear lightly chuckled. “Some, I’m sure. Specialization is all well and good, but a mage ought to have at least some passing familiarity with all kinds of magic.”

Excitement grew within Leon, and he grinned at the tau. “Origin power ought to help on that front, no?”

“Indeed, it does,” Clear agreed. “Indeed, it does.”

Again, silence stretched between them while Leon worked up the nerve to ask the tau something else.

Perhaps sensing this, Clear asked, “Is there something else you wish to ask about, Leon?”

Leon scowled for just a moment, then asked, “Have you ever asked Ambrose about all of this? The Grave Warden?”

“Though he is my friend,” Clear answered, “we rarely interact. He’ll frequently sleep for centuries at a time, and when we do speak, our next talk may only come some decades later. Still, we have spoken on a great many topics; enough for me to know that Ambrose is a man who greatly prefers talking about people rather than magic. He desires stories, to listen to all that I’ve seen happen, and to talk in turn about what he’s seen. I have never considered asking him about the particulars of magic. As I’ve said before, the powers I have been most interested in are those unique to myself.”

Leon reflected on all of his interactions with Ambrose, and couldn’t help but think that Clear might be showing some wisdom—Ambrose hardly seemed like a man who would enjoy in-depth discussions about the intricacies of how magic worked, and what a mage would have to do to take further steps along their magical journey. Still, he doubted that Ambrose had simply stumbled into his power as a mortal would stub their toe on an uneven sidewalk, so there had to be quite a bit of value in picking his brain about magic.

‘Something to keep in mind for next time,’ he thought. ‘We are ‘friends’, now, aren’t we?’

Leon sighed and sat there in silence with Clear for a while longer. Given who was closing in on Stormhollow with every passing second, he felt that he could use a bit of silence to brace for their arrival.

---

Anastasios and the Grand Druid arrived in Stormhollow less than a day after Leon’s conversation with Clear Day, and they arrived in a most unspectacular fashion. They flew in with haste, and some communication with their embassies in Stormhollow beforehand ensured that they were received with little fanfare—Leon, his family, and the respective ambassadors met the tenth-tier mages in one of Leon’s smaller, more private courtyards.

The ambassadors immediately knelt in the presence of the near-gods that guaranteed the safety of their Empires, while Leon and his family largely remained standing. Cassandra was the sole exception, as she bounded forward and practically leaped into the Grand Druid’s embrace.

“Cassie, my girl, my darling granddaughter,” the Grand Druid cooed. “How have you been? So long outside of Evergold can’t have been too comfortable, can it?” The Grand Druid shot Leon an almost provocative look, but Leon didn’t take the bait.

“This is my home now, Grandmother,” Cassandra said more chidingly, not following Leon’s lead in not taking the bait. “There are fewer places more wonderful than Stormhollow!”

“But Evergold is one of them,” the Grand Druid stated like it was a fact. She released Cassandra, but not before giving her a pat on the head. Cassandra acted almost like an affronted child but said no more.

Anastasios, throughout this whole exchange, merely stared at Leon, his mouth agape. The Grand Druid was a little more circumspect, but Leon could tell that she was inspecting him just as closely.

“Leon…” the Lord Protector whispered in awe. “You… have…”

“We should talk,” the Grand Druid interrupted. She looked around at everyone in the courtyard, her ruby eyes lingering on the Tempest Knights nearby guarding the courtyard. “Alone.”

Leon nodded, and after exchanging a few more pleasantries, guided the two tenth-tier mages into a private meeting room. Only once the three of them were alone did their conversation turn from polite, if inconsequential banter to the reason why the two had come so far in such a rush.

“You have achieved Apotheosis, Leon,” the Grand Druid observed.

“That I have,” Leon confirmed for what felt like the thousandth time. He prepared himself to explain exactly how he’d done so again, but the Grand Druid had more she wanted to say.

“Then your time on Aeterna is coming to an end…”

Leon interjected before she could follow that thought up. “It’s not like I’m leaving for the Nexus tomorrow. I have arks to inspect and an expedition to mobilize. I can’t leave my Kingdom behind without preparations, too. It could be years before I leave for the Nexus. And you two will be there, too, right? That offer is still open.”

The two aged mages exchanged complex looks, and Anastasios quietly said, “You may be going on your own. Achieving Apotheosis, even with the assistance you’ve given us, has proven too difficult.”

“If we do not achieve Apotheosis before you leave, Leon,” the Grand Druid added, “then we’ve both decided that we’ll remain here on Aeterna.”

Leon frowned deeply, but after a moment, he nodded. “I understand. Leaving this plane is hardly going to be easy for me, and I won’t be leaving family behind.”

“Our Empires will continue without us,” Anastasios claimed. “We’ve both made preparations. Her daughter and my grandson will be focusing their efforts on reaching the tenth-tier. But… I am of the mind that we should focus on ensuring our families can maintain their power rather than focusing on ourselves. Seems a bit selfish otherwise, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Leon conceded. “Having a strong head of your family, however, is a good thing, isn’t it? And it’s not like I’d force you two to remain with me in the Nexus, you’d be able to return home whenever you pleased.”

‘Assuming Ambrose agrees,’ Leon considered after a moment, though he mentally shrugged a moment later. ‘Doubt he’d refuse, though.’

Anastasios sighed. “You’re too generous, Leon. I would love to achieve what you have, but for the moment, I can’t help but think that I have run out of time. Best to focus on the future of my family if I will soon meet my end.”

“If… if that’s what you want,” Leon hesitantly said.

“It is,” Anastasios replied, and the Grand Druid nodded in agreement.

Several awkward seconds of silence followed until the Grand Druid finally asked, “So, dear boy, how did it go? You must tell us the story!”

Leon grinned lightly, then once more launched into the story of his ascension. Despite what they’d just finished discussing, he could see the hope in their eyes when he mentioned the use of his wireframe device, and then he saw it die when he mentioned that it hadn’t worked as he’d hoped. As he spoke, however, he elaborated on his after-the-fact realizations on what he’d done. The more he explained the process, the more detailed he became, and when he finished, both Anastasios and the Grand Druid began asking several pointed and detailed questions which Leon was only too willing to answer.

He was in the middle of explaining how his magic had condensed into origin power within his wireframe device before igniting the origin spark itself when Anastasios suddenly stood up, a look of sudden comprehension on his face.

“Leon…” he whispered, “might I borrow one of your training chambers?”

A smile slowly spread across Leon’s face. “Of course, Lord Protector. Follow me.”