The Storm King

Chapter 782: Consequences

Victory. A fantastic word.

Honor. Glory. More great words, depending on the ideals specific to each person.

The Jaguar never put too much stock in vague notions of glory or honor, but victory was something he could measure and achieve. When he returned to Kataigida, victory, honor, and glory were the words on every tongue. The Thunderer’s forces, while the Jaguar had been busy giving Argos its modest sacking, had annihilated the barbarian forces on the Sword, razing their bases and putting their people to flight. The barbarian fleets even now decorated the bottom of the Veins of Vigilance, the vigilance the straits were named for not doing the usurpers any good.

The Thunderer was still there, though a goodly part of the invasion force had returned home, bringing the news. And so, victory, honor, and glory were all anyone could talk about. The Jaguar added to that, his destruction of the barbarian fleet and humiliation of their armies at Argos lifting many spirits even further. They were still waiting on news from the east regarding the seizing of forts and cities along the coast of the Shield mountains, but at this point, all anyone could talk about were their triumphs. Even if the eastern forces were defeated, the Ten Tribes had already done far more than anyone would’ve thought possible even just a few months before.

But the Jaguar was not particularly enthused by these events. It was not victory, honor, or glory that filled his mind. He always sought victory, but honor and glory were two notions that he rarely allowed himself to indulge in. Rather, the foremost idea in his mind was always duty: duty to his Tribe, and duty to Kataigida as a whole. Duty to their culture and history, duty to remember the sacrifices they’d made in order to survive all those millennia ago.

A duty to remember their legacy, and their King.

Kataigida knew no King. Its Tribes were represented by the Elder Council, made up of delegations of the eldest and wisest from every Tribe, and periodically, they might elect a Thunderer from amongst themselves. But this Thunderer was not a King, but first among equals, someone empowered to guide the Ten Tribes through a period of turmoil or some other time of upheaval.

The current Thunderer had been elected by his promise to bring death and destruction to the barbarians, and to guide the Ten Tribes ‘into the future’, whatever he meant by that. In the years since, the Jaguar had taken that particular sentiment to mean that the Thunderer wanted to make himself a King, and to do so, he was destroying all of their traditions. Consolidating power, breaking down Tribal loyalties, erasing their identities.

The Jaguar would never stand for it. He knew others who wouldn’t, either, but they were disparate and couldn’t agree on the color of the sky—the Jaguar had only been half joking when he’d once said that he could declare that the sky was blue, and the more obstinate among his fellow Tribesman would drag him outside at sundown to witness the red sky—let alone how to proceed or deal with this threat to their heritage.

But now…

There was only one King of the Ten Tribes. Only one who could unite them, lead them into the future, whatever that might entail.

‘The Thunderbird…’

The Jaguar, all along his journey home to Raikos couldn’t stop thinking of that silver-blue lightning, nor of the young man who’d wielded that power. The Blood Thunder Jaguar itself had confirmed it: it was the power of their highest and noblest of gods, the Thunderbird. The bloodline, long thought dead, yet lived.

But he was with Heaven’s Eye, working with those who’d usurped much of the old Kingdom’s infrastructure. He’d opposed them in their sacking of Argos. Yet, he’d revealed himself in dramatic fashion, all-but declaring his existence to the Jaguar and all those who’d accompanied him.

Including Elina.

The Jaguar could only frown as he thought about the Inquisitor. She’d left his ship as soon as they passed through the misty veil and the northern coast of Kataigida came back into sight, flying her Pegasus straight for Stormhollow. The Jaguar knew exactly why: she knew exactly who that was and what his existence meant. She was going to inform the Thunderer and the Elder Council, but what they’d do with it, the Jaguar knew not.

He’d briefly entertained the thought of refusing Elina permission to leave, but he knew that would only result in conflict. He’d either be forced to hand her over and be punished for overstepping his authority, which would then allow her to relay the information she carried anyway, or at worst, it might spark a civil war. There were few things he wanted to do less than kill his fellows, even if they were from different Tribes.

Of course, that conviction could be tested when some of the more belligerent Tribes had cause to come to Raikos, but now, when the entire world had changed with the reveal of the existence of one person… It was a chance to truly unite the Ten Tribes behind a strong ruler, without destroying their culture and traditions to do it.

When he returned to Raikos, the Jaguar wasn’t surprised to find that his Tribe’s elders had already congregated in the central gathering hall. The entire Tribal Council was there to greet him and their returning warriors, ready to hear word from their own mouths of their great victory, news of which had already likely permeated the entire island. The Jaguar thought it likely that his dour and pensive demeanor elicited quite a bit of confusion as he took his place amongst the elders, but by the time he’d finished his explanation, the entire council wore similar expressions.

The blood of the Thunderbird yet existed.

There wasn’t much debate. The stories and legends of the Thunderbird were still strong amongst the Jaguar Tribe. They would now be silent and drop any of their formal objections to the Thunderer as the first amongst equals consolidated the ten Tribes’ hold over the Sword. Then, with the Tribes’ newfound control of the Veins of Vigilance, the Jaguar himself would lead a small company to try and make contact with this descendant.

What would happen next… none of them could say.

—

Leon stood with the Director, each in front of the man’s desk. No longer was the Director sitting behind it, his aged face shrouded in shadow, passing his judgment upon Leon like a King to a subject. Now, they stood in front of it, as equals.

Of course, the Director still spoke as if he were the senior partner in their relationship, but Leon wasn’t going to push the subject too much. The Director’s well of support and power was still far greater than his own, after all—he’d made Talal his Vice-Chief, but they would need years before the ranks of the branch had any amount of loyalty to Leon.

Fortunately, the purges were over, though they hadn’t been quite that extensive to begin with. They’d amounted to only twenty firings and one arrest when one department head refused to vacate his post. Thirty other department heads were deemed reliable enough to retain, and replacements were promoted from within the branch. Leon hoped he wouldn’t need to purge any more than that; after all of his rantings and posturing to Nestor, Xaphan, and the Thunderbird, he’d look quite the fool if he couldn’t make things works without resorting to more widespread purges, or even more extreme measures.

But the administration of his branch of power wasn’t Leon’s concern right now. Instead, he and the Director were pouring over the detailed reports of the recent Sky Devil’s raid on Argos, their seizure of the Sword, and how the forts along the Shield’s edge had fallen silent. The raid on Argos was the one of most concern, though the capture of the Sword and the routing of Imperial forces upon it were of far greater consequence.

Without the Imperial fleets patrolling the Veins of Vigilance, the Sky Devils would be essentially free to raid the cities of the Pegasi States all the way to the Indra Raj. Control of the seas had been lost, and it would be hard-won back.

And still the raid on Argos was of more concern, if only because Leon’s role in repelling the raid was quite extensively documented. And, as the reports were telling them, of immense interest to many people.

“The Lord Protector is on his way,” the Director angrily murmured as he pushed a letter toward Leon. “Not the start of a good working relationship, I should say.”

“Say what’s on your mind,” Leon said. “Don’t let this fester.”

The Director hardly seemed to need his prompting. “Leon. What was going on in your head?! You should know why making contact with the Sky Devils was going to raise eyebrows! And you did it anyway!”

“And in doing so, I ended the raid on Argos. Maybe I saved a few lives, and just at the cost of making a few old mages a little jumpy.”

“Don’t be so flippant, you know that this incident’s done so much more than that. Anastasios wouldn’t be racing here if the situation weren’t serious. The Ilian Empire is mostly happy to let us run this city, but for someone so powerful to come here is unprecedented. Heaven’s Eye doesn’t need this!”

Leon nodded in understanding, though he wasn’t as concerned about the matter as the Director was. Not completely unconcerned, of course, just less.

“The Lord Protector has been trying to get me on his side for a while…” Leon muttered. “Maybe, if it will quiet him down some, I’ll work with him a bit. Not leave Heaven’s Eye, obviously, but maybe giving him a bit of what he’s been after will ensure that we’re left in peace?”

The Director sighed, then turned to regard Leon quite seriously. “It’s good that you’re willing to make that sacrifice, because that’s probably why he’s coming. I would be surprised if he were actually angry at this event. I would guess that he’s going to use this event to try and squeeze for concessions.”

“Depending on those concessions, hardly that big of a price to pay. Especially since we’re not going to be staying on this plane for too long, are we?”

The Director smiled bitterly. “I was not hoping to leave Heaven’s Eye gutted on our way out…”

“Who’s to say we will? But I was thinking… If we could get the Sky Devils on our side, then we could take them with us when we left. At that point, are there going to be any real problems with strengthening the Empires in the process? What do we stand to lose if they gain access to better ark tech? Other than immediate leverage.”

“Without that leverage, then they could very well move against us immediately. The potential that you might work with them is all that’s keeping them from looking at you with suspicion. The Lord Protector wants what your blood can unlock. The Grand Druid wants your blood in her lineage. If they get those things, then you—and all of Heaven’s Eye, by extension—lose power over them.”

“Yes, but the problem is that power, on occasion, has to be used.”

“And you’re quite possibly about to be forced to use power that you didn’t have to, just because you went out to meet the Sky Devils in Argos. This would’ve all been so much simpler if you hadn’t done that.”

“What’s done is done, and I don’t regret my actions at all.”

“You don’t even know if the Sky Devils will be on your side!”

“No—that’s quite the gamble on my part, I’ll admit. But given their reactions after seeing my power, then I think the likelihood of them being on my side is strong. And besides, I protected Argos after their commander was killed, and the Sunlit Emperor himself seemed not all concerned about my intervention.”

The Director scowled lightly. “Yes, well, don’t take his reaction to be the rule. As… friendly as he might seem, the Sentinels to the east will be all the more hostile.”

“Why’s that?”

“How much do you know about the fall of your Clan here?”

“Not much, admittedly. After my Clan fell, our vassals started infighting. Most of them who could do so rallied behind the strongest and evacuated the plane. Those who remained were either killed off or retreated southward, becoming the Sky Devils.”

The Director nodded, then closed his eyes and spent a moment quite obviously gathering his thoughts. “Leon,” he said, “you should know that the Sky Devils despise Heaven’s Eye. Why that is should become clear in a moment.

“You see, most of the Clans that remained on Aeterna either killed themselves in petty wars, while those who were more unified gathered in the east, creating something of a rump state of the Empire that your Clan built here. But even then, they were hardly unified, and by the time the Brilliant Eleven came along, they were able to build an army strong enough to take the war to the east. And there, in the mountains and valleys that your Clan took as their own personal fief, the armies of the Brilliant Eleven fought the bloodiest and most destructive battles in the entire war. Millions were killed, the entire region was left so depopulated that it took tens of thousands of years to recover. The land itself was so scarred by the fighting that when the Sentinels formed their state, they named themselves thusly to remind themselves of exactly what happened, to always keep the brutality of those vassal Clans at the forefront of their thoughts.”

Leon nodded along, utterly fascinated. Within his soul realm, he could feel Nestor paying attention, too.

“But why do the Sky Devils hate Heaven’s Eye, then?” Leon asked. “As far as I know, Heaven’s Eye didn’t even exist back then. The guild didn’t get its start until almost thirty thousand years later!”

“That’s the official story, yes. About fifty thousand years ago, the entity that this guild was became Heaven’s Eye, but it has existed in some form or fashion since the days of your family’s conquest. It collaborated your Clan and with its vassals, though, back then, the guild was much less centralized and regulated. That changed when your family took direct control of the guild, using it to essentially build their local logistics chain on this plane. In effect, they took the decentralized guild and made it Heaven’s Eye.

“When your Clan fell, proto-Heaven’s Eye lost much of its power, but its leaders from your family were killed, and those who replaced them were planar locals who were far more sympathetic to the Brilliant Eleven than they were with the remnants of your Clan’s vassals. They worked with the Brilliant Eleven, turning what remained of your Clan’s supply chain and plane-spanning trade network to the purpose of defeating those who would become the Sky Devils.”

“And that’s why they hate the guild?” Leon whispered.

“Yes,” the Director confirmed. “As far as they’re concerned, though it’s been so long and we’ve changed our name, the guild is still an organization that turned against them when they were at their most vulnerable, using the systems and infrastructure given to us by your Clan to do so. Their hatred of us is only exceeded by their hatred of the Empires.”

“Well, that would make some sense, then,” Leon responded thoughtfully. “Instead of proceeding on to the citadel once they’d breached the walls of Argos proper, they instead marched on our district in the city. I mean, it was probably clear that they weren’t going to be able to destroy Argos entirely, not with how close Imperial reinforcements were, and were likely just trying to do what damage they could in the short time they had, but instead of just burning the city mindlessly, they marched on Heaven’s Eye.”

“Yes, and you went out to meet them. And now we have to deal with overly inquisitive minds from the Empires, and a great deal of scrutiny that we don’t need when we’re just now trying to get our partnership off the ground!”

The Director didn’t speak too much more loudly than he did when he wasn’t angry, but Leon could tell he was furious. His aura flexed and writhed, though the old man’s body remained calm and serene. He wore a fairly neutral expression, but his eyes were narrow with displeasure.

“For what it’s worth,” Leon replied after a moment of silence, “I am sorry for that. The consequences of actions that I feel necessary aren’t

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