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1145 - Return to Artorion
🕑 Added 2024-11-13 16:00:10 +0000 UTCWatching the Seventh Iron Order ready themselves for battle was inspiring. Even Leon’s most professional forces could learn a thing or two from the way the order’s warriors went about their tasks, handling their logistical needs and methodically servicing their kit. They were an order with singular dedication, and it showed, their hands practiced in the ways of war.
Leon couldn’t help but wonder just how practiced they were, though—their familiarity and professionalism spoke to long years spent on the warpath, but he hadn’t heard that much about other Ocean Lords attacking the Far West. Either the order was highly trained to a degree he found admirable, or they were constantly dealing with threats that the rest of the Far West didn’t care enough to notice.
No matter the reason, he found a growing admiration for the Seventh Iron Order as they readied their three local arks and a host of several thousand warriors to follow him back to Artorion. The orders had sprung from a need to defend the Storm Lands in the absence of a strong Storm King, but he couldn’t help but imagine a time when he wore his Ancestor’s crown, Storm Diamond glimmering above his brow, accepting offers of fealty from all the Iron Orders. If they were anything like the Seventh, then they would be powerful allies to have.
Leon’s party observed the order from the guest tower for a short time, intending to head out into the main courtyard once Nestor was ready to recall them. Leon had contacted Artorion to let them know of his successes thus far, and Nestor had set about readying the Lumenite gateway to bring them home.
“A matter of hours,” Nestor had said. “I’ll message your comm slate when it’s ready.”
And so, Leon waited. He’d finished all he’d set about doing with a week to spare, though there was so much to do back in Artorion that resting on his laurels upon his return never once occurred to him. He had to integrate the Iron Order into his command structure, inspect the repaired defenses, the arks that were battle ready, and the new Aurichalcum Lances that were already being completed. He also had to catch up Elise and Cassandra, as well as plant Mir at the highest point on the nine-peaked mountain. On top of all that, he still had the branch and seed from the Stormborn Oak to handle…
Finally, he had to find some way to thank Clear Day, Eva, and Anastasios for their diligence in maintaining the shield over the valley. Not once had they faltered, even when Terris’ fleets had heavily bombarded the shield, hoping to cause enough strain to shut the thing down. Those bombardments had been unsuccessful, but despite this stellar service on their part, Leon wasn’t sure he could find a way to properly thank them until after this siege had been well and truly lifted.
He couldn’t help but softly chuckle as that thought ran through his head.
“Something funny?” Valeria quietly asked him. She and Maia were the only two that were that close to him, the rest of his party remaining close by but not within comfortable muttering distance. With a cheeky, if subdued grin, Leon’s silver-haired wife said, “I’d like to laugh to, please share with me.”
“How many arks now surround Artorion?” Leon asked.
“Almost two hundred,” Valeria answered, her expression faltering slightly at the unexpected question. Her answer wasn’t that specific, but Leon wasn’t asking to get the details, but to make his point.
“The Ocean Despot has called enough power down upon us to conquer entire planes,” Leon said, “and yet… the success we’ve had in the past few weeks is enough that, just now, I didn’t even question our chances of victory. I thought about rewarding Eva and Anastasios, but only once we’d won, as if that was hardly even in question. Misplaced confidence? Maybe. It still amused me, to realize my confidence despite the situation.”
Valeria pinched his arm. “Keep a level head, ‘King’ Leon,” she whispered. “Overconfidence will get us all killed.”
[Our enemies will die,] Maia stated as she jumped into the conversation. [Confidence doesn’t matter when this is fact.] She nodded as if she’d just declared the sky was blue.
A bolt of lightning flashed across the gray, overcast sky as Leon felt her confidence bleed through their connection, bolstering his. As he opened his mouth to respond, his comm slate, which rested on the windowsill in front of him, began to shine with magic.
Leon stowed his thoughts and activated the runes on the slate. The comm lotus petal within the thin black slate pulsed with power, and above the slate, an image was projected, revealing Cassandra.
“Cassie?” Leon exclaimed in surprise. “Where’s Nestor?” As he asked his question, he projected his magic senses, checking on the Artor Valley, fearing some calamity had befallen his chosen home in the few minutes it had been since he’s last checked on it. His magic senses, however, revealed a situation unchanged, his fear misplaced.
“Leon,” Cassandra warmly replied. “We’ve received a message that… might change your plans, and I wanted to let you know. Bright Intent is back.”
Leon blinked in surprise. Bright Intent had been sent back to Aeterna more than a month ago at this point with all of the wisps that he and his fellow eleventh-tier mages had created over their time in the Nexus. If the next wave of arks and colonists from Aeterna were to reach the Nexus safely, then they needed every wisp they could get their hands on.
“I’ll admit, I almost forgot that they were due to return,” Leon said.
“A little early,” Cassandra replied, “but they’re soon to be here. Captain Grass-Cutter checked in with us right outside of the portal into the Nexus. I told him to hold his position there and not to enter the Nexus until you give permission.”
Leon nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Luck is riding with us, it seems…”
“It’s as welcome as water in a desert,” Cassandra agreed.
One destroyer, even one as powerful as Bright Intent, wouldn’t on its own make much of a difference, but in their situation, every addition, no matter how small, eventually added up. The question, however, was what to do about the ark. Leon could go and meet it, but that would take days. He could still return to Artorion before the shield went down, but his remaining time would be almost entirely eaten up.
On the other hand, he could trust in Bright Intent to operate beyond the shield without him. He was affording the Iron Order arks similar trust, and as far as he could tell, even as heavily armed as they were, those arks were not in the same league as those built at the height of his Clan’s power.
A large part of him wanted to bring Bright Intent into the safety of the shield, but another, more pragmatic side had to acknowledge the possible advantage that having the ark further out could bring. Terris’ focus, it seems, remained wholly on the Artor Valley, and the patrols further out from the valley were limited. Bright Intent could remain out in the mountains, not drawing attention until the time back. A destroyer hitting Terris’ arks from an unexpected direction could prove to be a powerful card to play.
Leon didn’t long consider the problem. He trusted his subordinates, he didn’t feel the need to micromanage. ‘Besides, if Terris tries to fuck with my ark, I can always use that Lumenite bridge to sally out and stop him. Hopefully. Maybe.’
After coming to his quick decision, Leon said to Cassandra, “Our plans are unchanged. Order Bright Intent to come through the portal, but retreat north if Terris or any of his arks move to intercept. We’ll have it rendezvous with the Iron Order arks and prepare to support us from the north.”
Cassandra nodded and began relaying his orders to someone not on the projection—likely the Jaguar or one of the other handful of remaining higher-ranking officers.
When that was done, they spoke for a few more minutes, but kept it brief and professional. They were about to meet in person, after all, so more intimate words could wait…
---
In the largest bailey of the Seventh Iron Order’s castle, a little over a thousand of their warriors had assembled under Carver’s command. The order’s Second Warden was going to lead their expeditionary force to Artorion while the order’s remaining forces in the castle, numbering fewer than three thousand, continued to prepare the order as a whole for war. Most of their forces were deployed across their region of responsibility, but Carver had promised Leon after meeting in the bailey that within a month, another five thousand order warriors could arrive in Artorion.
A fairly large sum, in Leon’s opinion, especially since five thousand warriors was more than half of what remained of his expedition after the siege thus far.
With that, as the appointed time came down to less than a minute, the wards around the castle began to dim. The Lumenite gateway that Nestor had created could punch through some minor wards, but the castle was too fortified to get through without the inhabitants’ permission.
A grin spread across Leon’s face as a beam of shimmering golden light erupted from the shielded Artor Valley. It was impossible to miss, and the Diluvian arks patrolling around the north side of the valley scrambled to react—not there was much they could do.
The beam landed mere feet in front of Leon, magic roiling off of its countless thin golden filaments, while an arched doorway resolved on the surface in front of Leon. Beyond, he could see the same rooftop that he’d departed from, along with a host of his followers standing there waiting for him, including Elise, Cassandra, the Jaguar, and Nestor.
“Everybody through!” Leon shouted. With the Lumenite and Aurichalcum provided by Icarius, they could sustain the Lumenite bridge long enough to get everyone through, but the less time it took, the better.
Showing their iron discipline, Carver and his fellow warriors wasted no time quick-marching through the portal, the Lumenite transporting them almost instantly across thousands of miles, depositing them almost right in the center of Artorion.
It took several minutes, but once the final warrior had passed through the gateway, Leon led his party through in their wake. He emerged into the city named for his father, his followers hot on his heels, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The situation remained bad, but now that he was back, they could finally start setting it right.
---
Terris read the report in front of him with a dark look. So far, the barrier erected in front of the Stormwall had held remarkably well, even when put under immense pressure. He considered himself a patient enough man to wait for the barrier to fail, which he had no doubt would happen at some point, but after the first of the Lumenite bridges were formed from within to without, his patience had worn thin.
The first bridge had formed around the same time the barrier went up, and the second days later. Now, he was being informed of a third, this one lasting much longer than the others.
He’d suspected the monster within the valley had been doing his best to try and call for aid. Terris had been tempted to send forces out to the northern regions to put a stop to that, but he was wary of provoking any other Storm Lords into action. Most of the wrecks around the besieged valley had been salvaged at this point, but he’d still taken considerable losses. Nearly all of the arks and armies he could bring to bear were now here, but even those numbers could be bested if a Storm Lord of Basileus rank or higher took too great of an interest in his business…
So, he restrained himself, despite his certainty that it was giving his opponent too much freedom to move.
Making matters worse, Rejhava, one of his Strategoi that had contended with the beast during their last confrontation and been hit by black lightning, was still in recovery. The wounds inflicted upon him had sent shivers down Terris’ spine, and there was a large part of him that dreaded facing that monster again, if it could wield such power. The Doomfire had been easy enough to counter, if painful, but the effects of this black lightning were not so easily countered. Flesh could be flensed away, and that certainly seemed to help, but the damage done by that black lightning ran deeper, leaving Rejhava bedridden these past weeks. Whatever ate away at him ran deeper, and he would require extreme treatment to recover.
Once the beast was dead, his city razed, and the Ocean King’s buffer zone restored, Terris intended to make sure that his Strategos received the best care that anyone could provide. He’d already lost so much in this endeavor, losing another Strategos couldn’t be tolerated.
Terris obliterated the report in his hand speaking of the third Lumenite bridge, and made his way up to the bridge of his personal ark where he could see what was happening with his own eyes. There, he was met by Sarjell, who commanded his forces in his absence.
Sarjell bowed and spoke the words he was expected to when his Lord entered the room. Terris largely ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand.
“How was this one any different?” he asked, not elaborating.
Understanding despite Terris’ curtness, Sarjell explained, “The Lumenite bridge remained for longer than the previous two occurrences. It also connected to the Seventh Iron Order. I was able to confirm that Leon Raime was there in person, likely soliciting their aid.”
Terris scoffed. “As far as allies go, the Seventh Iron Order is hardly one to brag about.” His eyes momentarily drifted eastward. It was a good thing that none of the other Storm Lords had gotten involved. Djoser and Archelaus were his only real worries, and they were staying out of it—and Djoser was keeping his word, preventing the Third Iron Order from entering this conflict, too. “Have there been any detected changes in their barrier?”
“Minute changes,” Sarjell stated. “I’ve been told that the barrier will last for, at most, two weeks. Probably less, if we regularly bombard it.”
With a vicious grin, Terris said, “After almost a month, those few defenders who remain probably have at least twenty percent of their body made up by stimcoral—or the Storm Lands’ equivalent. Their towers and command rooms will reek of unwashed ass. Fatigue and the sound of our bombardments will have replaced all higher thought. Once that barrier comes down, we will storm into their valley and put them down, for the glory of Ocean King Ahndhas. In their state, they will consider death a relief. For Leon Raime, I would deny even that mercy. I want him paraded through the streets of Akhreteia, Theia, Ponturia, and Denrock. His defeat will be known in every corner of the King’s Ocean.”
Terris paused long enough to grin. His fingers twitched, itching to close around his Ebon Mace. Though there were few things he wanted to do less than facing down someone with both Doomfire and that black lightning, he was confident he could take the arrogant Strategos down if they were to clash again. Even if he couldn’t…
“He thinks he can withstand the tides? Survive one wave, well done… but another will follow. Mountains are ground to dust by the patient sea. All is washed away beneath the salty waves. All is dust beneath the surf.”
A seemingly innocuous sound from his bridge’s comm station caught his attention. The officer stationed there did his duty to the letter, but only a moment after laying his hand upon one of the small comm stones at his console, the officer paled and reeled back. He cast a terrified look at Terris, and when he locked eyes with his Despot, he shot to his feet and ran toward him.
Terris, his curiosity rising quickly, leaned down for the officer to whisper what he’d heard in that message to him. As the words fell from his lips, Terris’ heart skipped a beat, and he was glad the officer hadn’t made an announcement to the entire bridge.
“Noted,” Terris growled, and the officer ran back to his station.
Sarjell didn’t say a word, but he stared expectantly at Terris.
The Diluvian Despot sighed, searching for the right words. Then, he reached out with his darkness magic, touching Sarjell’s mind. When Sarjell reciprocated the connection, Terris stated, “The brat’s on her way. It seems we’ll have an august spectator to watch our triumph over our beastly foe.”
Sarjell paled, and this time, Terris knew that his silence stemmed not from professionalism, but from genuine terror—a fear that Terris, if in a more subdued way, shared.
‘It would be best if we finished this siege quickly,’ he thought, after which he ordered his arks to commence with their daily bombardment. ‘I’d rather not have to deal with her for any longer than is needed…’
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Comments
Betareader007
Thanks for the chapter mate
Specter
Thank you! Glad to be back to the city
Bryn Thomas
Thanks for the chapter! I wonder who the brat is, daughter of the Ocean King or some other Anax perhaps?
