The Storm King

Leon knew that it was often hard to appreciate the importance of events as they happened. However, as he took off from the Jaguars’ guest estate and made for the Elder Hall, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of all his Ancestors settling in around him.

He knew he had to make this spectacular. This was going to be a momentous occasion, one that either solidified his hold over the Ten Tribes or ruined it. This would be the final foundation stone he laid for his power base, and if the foundation had been too poorly laid, then he would have significantly more trouble rebuilding his Clan than otherwise.

So, Leon transformed as he took flight, shifting into his natural Thunderbird form and filling the sky with his power. There were other competing auras up there since there were so many strong mages now in the city, but Leon’s dwarfed them all, seizing control of the sky and filling it with black storm clouds. In less than a minute, Stormhollow had gone from bathed in the sun’s gentle rays to strobing as the sky was filled with silver-blue lightning.

Behind him, his Tribal allies shifted as well. The Ravens, Eagles, and Hawks took flight and fell in behind him and those of his retainers that were accompanying him to the Elder Hall. Below them ran the Lions, Jaguars, and Harts. Hundreds more of his supporters who lacked the bloodlines of their Clans joined the procession, though only the elders, Chiefs, and any other high-ranking Tribesmen would be joining Leon in the hall.

Leon made directly for Elder Hall, though he flew at a more lazy and sedate pace. He flew fairly low to the ground, making sure that he flew over the most crowded streets he could see on the way, giving the throngs of people on the streets plenty of time to witness his flight.

He saw many mixed emotions on the people’s faces. Some paled in fear, some frowned in anger and derision, and some laughed and wept in joy. He wondered if it was just because it was what he wanted to see, but he thought those who seemed happy at the sight of him outnumbered those who apparently felt otherwise.

Even as slowly as he flew, though, the Elder Hall wasn’t that far from his guest house, and he soon found himself on his final approach. Stormhollow had no central location for Tribal Totems, so instead, Leon began circling the hall itself, only landing in the largest courtyard of the circular building after completing ten circuits.

He reassumed human form as his talons touched the stone bricks, and his retainers landed to his right and left. A moment later, the massive flock of Hawks, Eagles, and Ravens landed behind them, and all those who were in their beast forms returned to humanity. Just behind them, the parade of Lions, Harts, and Jaguars arrived, those who were in beast form likewise transforming back.

Leon began confidently striding toward Elder Hall, though he walked slowly enough that the ninth-tier mages who led his supporters had more than enough time to catch up with him and walk in a line just a step behind him.

The Elder Hall had been built on a hill and was both patrolled and maintained by a small faction of neutral Tribesmen under the command of the Ax-Bringer. As he approached, none of the surprisingly strong guards so much as took a single threatening step in his direction. As he drew near the massive double doors that led inside, the guards even opened them for him and his procession, allowing them access to the hall that dominated the interior of the opulent structure.

Leon glanced back at his retainers in the short moment that it took the doors to open. They moved off to the side, led by Valeria, making way for the rest of the Tribes. They would wait just outside with many of Leon’s other supporters who wouldn’t be joining him inside the hall.

Once the doors were open, Leon, with the ninth-tier elders of the Tribes who supported him, strode inside, and he had to stifle a gasp of surprised glee.

The hall was massive, with ten seating sections built around a huge travertine dais. The walls were marble enchanted to look like water, while the ceiling was a massive fresco dominated by an image of the Thunderbird. As he glanced around at the other images on the ceiling, however, he thought he recognized a couple of them: his Clan leading a massive fleet from what looked like an enormous fortress floating in the night sky—he guessed this was the moment when the invasion of Aeterna started with Jason Keraunos and his children leading the fleet from the fortress plane of Tiryns. He also saw a great golden palace that he took to be the palace-plane of Minos around which dozens of beasts and people were kneeling, but he couldn’t be sure.

However, the gigantic fresco wasn’t what caused him to nearly gasp. Neither was it the gorgeous marble seating trimmed in lapis lazuli, nor the floating lights that illuminated the hall, glowing silver and blue.

It was the trees behind each seating section.

He was used to seeing greenery kept indoors like this, of course, especially with the aid of enchantments, but these trees were of great significance to him. They were of two different kinds; the first had pale white bark and leaves the color of the midday sky; the second had dark, nearly black bark, and had some of the greenest leaves Leon had ever seen on Aeterna. These were the trees that dominated the Forest of Black and White.

As he walked into the hall, Leon, for a moment, felt like he was being welcomed home.

That feeling died quickly as he realized he wasn’t the first to reach the hall: the Spiders had come first and they by and large glared at him and his supporters as they entered and split off into their respective Tribes to take up one of the seating sections. However, Leon ignored the Spiders and instead turned his attention back to the hall. He didn’t want to show any particular Tribe too much favoritism at this time, despite the fact that he’d spent these past few days in the Jaguars’ own guest hall, so without anywhere else to sit, Leon instead walked up onto the dais in the center of the hall, directly beneath the massive image of his Ancestor on the ceiling.

He slowly spun around, admiring his surroundings and taking a few subtle glances at the Spiders as he did.

They were led by a pair of ninth-tier mages, and while their delegation numbered nearly a thousand strong, those who sat in the front, separated by a row of empty seats, were one hundred and fourteen mages, nearly all eighth-tier mages. Those few who weren’t were still at the seventh-tier.

‘One hundred and sixteen elders, then,’ Leon thought. ‘Good, in line with our estimates.’

He’d been mildly concerned that his estimates would be too off, but he was encouraged to see that the Spiders hadn’t found any elders lying around that they could add to their delegation. Tribal convention held that elders were to be eighth-tier, but every constituent Clan within a Tribe had to have an elder on their Tribal Council, and thus had to have an elder represent them at the Elder Council. Some of the smallest and weakest Clans had no eighth-tier mages, leaving a seventh-tier mage to fill in for them—and Clans were distinct political entities themselves, and not easily founded. Fortunately, this was the only exception that Leon knew of, otherwise a Tribe could pad out their votes with hundreds more ‘elders’, the definition of which could be interpreted as loosely as the situation needed.

His relief was dampened as, while his supporters were still taking their seats, the Bears arrived, and a quick count showed that his people’s estimates had been just a little too short. Instead of having eighty elders—the Thunderer not included—they instead had eighty-seven. Eighty-eight if the Thunderer took part.

A little worrying, but seven additional elders weren’t nearly enough to tip the vote in the Thunderer’s favor.

Led by the Beast Lord, the Bears marched into the hall like they were on the warpath. However, as the Beast Lord’s eyes landed upon Leon standing upon the dais, he paused for a fraction of a second, then began striding toward him with a look of abject wrath carved upon his face.

“What is THIS?!” he bellowed so loudly that Leon felt the sound waves rattle his bones. “You have NO RIGHT to be here, pretender! This is a sacred place; you dirty it with your presence!”

Leon’s supporters booed and stomped in disapproval while the Jaguar and all four of the ninth-tier Lions shot to their feet in anger.

“And who are you to make that call?!” the Jaguar shouted.

“You do not speak for the Tribes, Beast Lord!” Menander added.

“That is not for you to say!” Nikolaos castigated.

Leon, standing below the image of his Ancestor, smiled and waved to his supporters, silently ordering them to calm down. Those on their feet didn’t immediately sit back down, but their body language at least became less aggressive, so he turned his attention back to the Beast Lord, who had stopped at the edge of the dais, which came up to his thigh. He didn’t look at all disturbed by the arguments of the other Tribes.

“Since our business has to do with him,” one of the ninth-tier Spiders—not the one Leon had seen at the meeting Solomon had warned him about—called out, “perhaps it would be best if he were to wait outside?”

“Absolutely NOT!” the Jaguar roared, his voice even louder than the Beast Lord’s had been. “I will NOT stand for the Thunderbird’s own descendant to be treated like a criminal in this holy place! Such a violation of all that we’ve stood for brings nothing but shame upon us all!”

“It is the opinion of the Harts,” Sar declared as he rose to his feet, “that Leon Raime should stay! He has as much right as any of us to be present!”

“He has more right than any of us!” Xanthippe hollered.

“Indeed,” a calm voice from the door said. This voice was backed up by an aura more potent than anyone else’s, easily drawing attention away from Leon. The Thunderer stood there, smiling pleasantly, and he added, “I have no problem with Leon Raime being present. What we have to discuss involves him more than anyone else, I should think.”

With the Thunderer now present and giving his opinion, the Beast Lord and the Spider who’d spoken up both tacitly withdrew their opposition, though not before shooting Leon some venomous glares, first.

‘They’re going to be problems,’ Leon thought with some apprehension. ‘Even if I’m declared King today, they’re not going to accept. Though, if violence has to break out, it’s better if it’s the Thunderer’s faction who instigates it…’

With the Bears reluctantly settling into their seats, the Thunderer joined Leon on the dais. He’d brought several powerful mages with him, including Linda, the High Inquisitor, though Leon noted that none of them sat in any of the seats allocated to the elders. Instead, they formed up close to the entrance and began to wait.

Notably absent from the Thunderer’s entourage was Hector, and Leon couldn’t help but feel uneasy without knowing where that man was.

“Leon Raime,” the Thunderer said charmingly. “This is it, isn’t it?”

“This is it,” Leon agreed. “No matter what happens, I would like to pledge to you that I won’t break the peace. It is for the Tribes to decide who to follow, not us.”

A shallow smile sprouted on the Thunderer’s face, and he said, “I will make the same pledge: any Tribe who claims to follow me will not break the peace. No matter which way the vote goes, we will honor it and abide by its decision.”

Leon nodded, and the two fell into a somewhat strained silence as the elders, Chiefs, and other powerful members of the Tribes settled into their seats. Only a minute or two later, though, the Tigers arrived.

The largest Tribe in the confederation entered the hall without too much fanfare, and fortunately, they didn’t seem to have spontaneously grown any new elders—their elders numbered one hundred and forty-two. They simply walked in and, led by Solomon, barely addressed any of the other Tribes, Leon, or the Thunderer as they took their seats.

Among their number, however, was Hector, and he was the sole exception. He entered the hall just behind his twin, and when he saw Leon standing with the Thunderer upon the dais, his face went red with anger. Despite this, Hector’s wrath didn’t reach critical levels until his eyes turned in the Jaguar’s direction.

Hector looked about ready to make some kind of outburst as the Beast Lord had before something seemed to occur to him, and he held himself back. He grinned to himself, gave Leon and then the Jaguar a smug look, and sat with his brother at the front of the Tigers’ delegation.

“Hector’s going to vote, then?” Leon whispered to the Thunderer. He didn’t speak quite so softly that Hector wouldn’t be able to hear, but he was only being polite and didn’t actually care if he did or not.

“Most of the army I built,” the Thunderer responded, “is comprised of his fellow Tigers. It only made sense to appoint him their commander. However, even with that appointment, he is still an elder of the Tiger Tribe. Do you object?”

Leon stole a glance at Hector, who just leaned forward a little and gave Leon a daring smile.

He almost wanted to object just to spite the smarmy asshole, but Leon turned back to the Thunderer, shrugged slightly, and said, “No. It wouldn’t be very fair if we started disallowing elders from casting their votes. Every Clan in every Tribe should have their votes counted, shouldn’t they? That is the way of the Ten Tribes, isn’t it? No elder left out?”

Leon’s tone was pointed, and while he continued to look unconcerned, the corners of the Thunderer’s eyes tightened.

“All elders are welcome to the Elder Council,” the Thunderer hesitantly said.

“Wonderful,” Leon said. “A shame they have to be physically present, though, isn’t it? No matter what happens here, there are going to be elders who don’t get to cast their votes. Lions, Hawks, Bison…”

“We do what we can,” the Thunderer said. “It is simply not feasible to expect every elder to come to every Elder Council. It is unfortunate, but the world waits for no one, and our elders have duties that often keep them away.”

As he spoke, the final Tribe arrived, and Leon’s easy-going smile froze. The Bison were helping to garrison the Sword from an Imperial counter-attack. As a result, their delegation was largely on par with that of the Hawks and Lions, both of whom had the smallest delegations of any other Tribe. However, their contingent of elders was much larger, numbering ninety-five at a quick count.

Leon’s estimate had been somewhere around the fifty mark.

With alarm bells ringing in his ears, Leon glanced at Nikolaos and the Jaguar, both of whom looked equally perturbed, as did many more in Leon’s corner. Hector, on the other hand, looked like he was barely restraining himself from doubling over with laughter, and the Bear and Spider elders looked quite pleased with themselves.

As the Bison entered the hall and made for the last open seating section, Nikolaos’ voice resounded in Leon’s head.

[Four hundred and forty-one, if they all vote for the Thunderer, including the man himself…]

Leon took a deep, steadying breath to force himself to remain calm. He didn’t know how the Bison had managed to get back to Kataigida in time nor how they did so without anyone noticing, but their addition to the Thunderer’s tally was an absolute disaster, especially with the Lions and Hawks keeping most of their elders on the Sword.

With this, Leon’s lead shrank considerably. He had four hundred and forty-six to the Thunderer’s four hundred and forty-one. His bloc would have to vote as one if he were to win.

Determined not to let his shock show too much, Leon asked with a voice shakier than he wanted, “So… the Bison pulled out of the Sword?”

“No,” the Thunderer woodenly explained. “Their elders have returned for the Elder Council. They will return to the Sword upon the conclusion of our business here. Altogether, they will only be gone for a matter of days, not long enough for the usurpers across the sea to retake the island.”

“It’s still playing with fire,” Leon murmured.

Before the Thunderer could respond, another group arrived, led by the familiar figure of the Ax-Bringer. Leon wasn’t sure what they were doing here, but Solomon rose to his feet and, as the hall quieted down somewhat, offered an explanation.

“In light of what we are to discuss today, I have relinquished my right as the one who called this council today to lead us in discussion. I trust the Ax-Bringer to be impartial in all our matters today, and have offered him the honor of handling today’s business.”

His words set off a chorus of furious murmurings throughout the hall, and for the first time since he entered the room, Hector’s smile slipped from his confident smirk for just a moment.

Leon frowned slightly, but he supposed this was a good thing. While Solomon seemed fairly friendly with the Jaguar and sympathetic to Leon’s cause, he still refused Leon’s offer to join him. He was still on the Thunderer’s side.

“I welcome the Ax-Bringer’s mediation,” the Thunderer declared.

“As do I,” Leon added as he silently cursed himself for not speaking up before his opponent.

“I am honored,” the Ax-Bringer said as he mounted the dais. Those he’d entered with, much like Linda and the rest of the Thunderer’s followers, didn’t join the rest of the Tribes, but instead arranged themselves by the doors. “If no one has any emergency business they wish to bring to this body, shall we launch right in?” the Ax-Bringer asked.

The hall fell silent and no one spoke up.

“Very well,” the Ax-Bringer said. “By the winged grace, by the power that our august elders have invested in me, I declare that this meeting of the Elder Council has begun!”

As he spoke, the doors were shut tightly, and powerful privacy enchantments were active. They were essentially sealed in with no practical way for anyone outside to hear what was going to be discussed inside.

But as silence fell upon the massive chamber, Leon's heart began to beat so furiously that he felt it quite likely the entire hall could hear it.

“The first item of business today,” the Ax-Bringer loudly declared, his voice echoing throughout the massive chamber, “is a matter of grave importance. Allegations of treason have been levied upon someone present!”

He paused and Leon heard a few whispers—mostly from his side—but for the most part, everyone was silent, waiting for the Ax-Bringer to finish.

“Leon Raime,” the Ax-Bringer said as he turned in Leon’s direction, nearly giving him a heart attack, “the Tiger Tribe accuses you of the crime of treason.”

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