NOVPUBStorm Herald ran swifter and quieter than any ark Leon had ever been on. Despite the extensive reconstruction the ark had required, the jump from the Nexus to the Kesken Cluster was smooth as butter; Leon barely felt it even as attuned as he was to magic at his tier.
As the magic portal dissipated behind Storm Herald and the interference it created vanished with it, Leon projected his magic sense outside of the ark, scanning the ark’s surroundings closely. His magic swept outward, washing over the tiniest dust particles and the largest asteroids floating out in the black, while with his physical eyes, Leon could see Prachtor, the most centrally-located plane in the entire cluster. The plane lay about ten thousand miles away from the prow of Storm Herald, a significant distance that would take even Storm Herald hours to travel.
Further out, Leon could make out the other planes in the cluster, though they were hundreds of thousands to millions of miles away—the four outlying planes would take small jumps to reach in a timely fashion, though the four closer to Prachtor could be reached without such means within several days.
From the Void, Leon could see that Prachtor was exactly as Anzu had reported—much of the plane was oceanic, though far less than Aeterna was. It had three major continents—one in the northwest, one in the northeast, and one in the south—while smaller continents and major islands were spread throughout the rest of the ocean like spice over soup. Almost no matter where one was in Prachtor’s ocean, even with Bull Kingdom-level ships, one would never be more than two days at the most from the nearest land.
The continent in the northeast was the largest of the three major continents and consequently had the largest population. Leon could see hundreds of cities along the coast, interspersed along rivers, sprawling amidst plains, and crawling up mountains. Farms and pastures abounded, and yet nature still ruled over more of the continent than man did. Deep forests, steep mountains, and lush valleys invited Leon to visit with their mere existence, especially those in the north of the continent where the fewest people lived.
About halfway between Storm Herald and Prachtor floated a small fleet of scout corvettes centered on a larger light cruiser—the fleet that Leon had given Clear Day weeks ago to use to engage in diplomacy with the powers in the cluster. Even for Clear, there hadn’t been nearly enough time to meet with all of the Kings and Emperors of these planes, but Leon could see that some progress had been made if the three foreign arks floating around the fleet were anything to go by.
These three arks were about as ramshackle as arks could get, their already bulky and rather misshapen hulls dented and scored by fire. Leon couldn’t see many weapon emplacements, but one of them was armed enough to possibly be considered a frigate, though he suspected these three arks were closer to merchant vessels than war arks.
Behind Storm Herald, hundreds of jump portals opened, spitting Leon’s fleet out into the Void. They weren’t exactly in formation, but the spread of his fleet was, on average, much more acceptable than the spread had been when he’d first jumped from Aeterna to the Nexus. Some quick mental calculations gave him an estimate of two or three hours before the fleet would be back in formation and flying to link up with Clear’s small fleet.
Leon attempted to wait patiently for his fleet to reconstitute itself, but he struggled not to direct his attention toward Storm Herald’s command center, where the expedition commanders were busy assessing their situation and accordingly making last-minute adjustments to their plan. His people were competent, and he had full faith in Anshu and the five subordinate fleet commanders, but his foot tapped on the floor while his fingers curled in anticipation of wrapping around the hilt of Iron Pride. Leon would be present for the conquest of Prachtor, but one of the biggest reasons why Leon had launched this expedition was to give his commanders experience in waging war without him. In a Kingdom that spanned the universe, it would be impossible for him to be on every potential front at once, and as such, he had to delegate some of his military responsibilities to competent subordinates.
In that respect, it may have been better for Leon to stay in Artorion, and there was a part of him that wished he was back there, his wives at his side, his friends close, Westmount beneath his feet, but he’d still accompanied the expedition to keep an eye on it and to take control should anything exceed their capabilities.
Given how few arks he could sense plying the Void, however, he didn’t anticipate much trouble with any of these planes—at least, not in the initial phases of any potential conflict. Ideally, all the powers of these nine planes would surrender without a fight, but if there was going to be a fight, then Leon already liked his chances.
Long minutes passed in the almost dead silent observation deck, Leon alone with his thoughts, until a loud knock came at the door. Leon called for it to open, revealing Lucianus, who bowed before taking a few steps in.
“The fleet has arrived, Your Majesty,” he reported. “We’ll be ready to press on in an hour and a half.”
Leon cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at the news that his estimate was off.
“Thank you, Luke,” Leon replied. “Has Fleet Admiral Anshu reported any problems with the ark?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Seems like our arksmiths did good work, then.”
“Indeed.”
Leon sighed, more questions flying through his head and burning holes in his psyche. But he held his tongue, sparing only enough words to politely dismiss Lucianus. Should any problems require his attention, Anshu would send word. Until then, he would only be a watcher.
His fingers drummed holes in his thigh as he watched his arks slowly get into position. He counted them a dozen times, his lips twitching into a smile every time he confirmed that no arks were missing. Still, he paced back and forth, his eyes flitting from Prachtor to the glittering stars in the black around Storm Herald.
After an hour, he grew sick of watching and waiting and left the observation deck, followed by a dozen Tempest Knights who’d been waiting outside. Leon practically marched through the ornate halls of Storm Herald, the projections on the walls showing scenes of Thunderbird Clan domination, while the sky-like projection on the ceiling eased the mild prickling at his understated claustrophobia. Much like the archives in Teira, walking through the halls of Storm Herald felt like walking through golden roofless halls on an idyllic plane somewhere, rather than through a reinforced passage through what could very well be a metal coffin floating through the empty Void.
Leon’s quarters were just as ostentatious, as he saw for himself when he entered them, all but slamming the door behind him as his knights took up positions in the antechamber. Golden walls and tree-like decorative pillars, the ceiling enchanted to look like the night sky filled with an alien aurora—streams of pinks and greens waved over the projection and illuminated the center of the palatial chamber.
A great sigh escaped Leon’s lips as he halted just past the entryway. The bed was inviting, but the sheets lacked the warmth of his wives. A large keeps board had been set up on the other side of the chamber, but without Gaius—or any other engaging player, for that matter—Leon had no interest in playing. A wide space in the center of the chamber allowed for training, so that’s where Leon eventually walked, though when he arrived, he stared at the weapons on display with mute disinterest. His fingers grazed the hilt of the training sword before moving to the spear, and then to the ax. A dozen weapons he passed over until he finally settled for just pacing around for a while more.
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‘Just one peek couldn’t hurt, could it?’ he wondered, aware of how close his chambers were to both the bridge and the command center. ‘Maybe there are problems that we’ve run into but that my people are hesitating to inform me about? They wouldn’t conceal issues that require my attention, would they?’ 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝙗.𝒄𝒐𝒎
Just as he summoned his power to project his magic senses, he felt the venerable presence of his favorite Ancestor. Her attention was on him, though for how long she’d been in his Mind Palace before so blatantly announcing her presence like this, he didn’t know.
[Calm yourself, my boy.] The Thunderbird’s voice was soothing and motherly, but it didn’t change the fact that her statement was more a command than anything else. [You’ll wear a hole in the floor before too long.]
[I can have the floor plates easily replaced,] Leon shot back.
[Your carpets might take longer to replace, and ruining them would be a grave insult to the weavers, besides. So why don’t you just stop where you are and talk to me, instead? No need to wear yourself out when you’re so obviously stressed.]
Leon grimaced deeply before throwing himself into the first chair his eyes landed upon. His foot still tapped a mad staccato rhythm and his muscles remained tense, but at least he’d stopped pacing.
[Talk to me,] the Thunderbird commanded again, her tone otherwise remaining calm and soothing.
[How many wars have you ever fought at once?] Leon asked.
A long silence followed. Perhaps it was surprise at his question or perhaps it was simply thought that held the Thunderbird’s tongue; he didn’t check his soul realm to try and find out. Finally, she asked, [There was one point early in my life before I’d achieved Apotheosis when my Queendom was at war with all of my neighbors at once. Ten other Kingdoms did their best to destroy me and those who followed me, and came closer than almost anyone ever had or since. Khosrow may have struck the mortal blow against me, but it was that series of conflicts that came the closest to destroying my Clan. Until Jason Keraunos indulged his greed, that is.]
[Ten wars…] Leon whispered. [Was that ten fronts? With ten armies in the field, fighting those wars?]
[Fronts? No, geography was on my side. If we ever reach Minos, you’ll see; we were able to funnel our enemies into a handful of passes and gaps between mountains, oceans, and rivers. Those conflicts never exceeded three fronts.]
[How many armies have you ever had in the field at once, then? Or fleets?]
Again, the Thunderbird paused, though this time the silence didn’t last even half as long as the first. [The most military elements I’ve ever had in the field numbered more than ten thousand. Scouting fleets, raiding fleets, conquering fleets, hunter fleets, active garrisons, field armies… The needs of a Kingdom that spans the universe are many, and at the end of the Primal Age, when Gods and Devils fought humans, and the Divine and Ascended Beasts were forced to pick sides, militarization was at an all-time high. Every fleet deployed in the Void was a military fleet of some kind, whether it was a war fleet or simply transports carrying war material. At any given moment, there would be ten thousand battles raging throughout the universe. My Clan was not a peaceful island in the center of that storm. When I decided to get involved, we fought with vigor and determination. Many glories were heaped upon me and placed at my feet. Until Khosrow’s betrayal…]
Fury leaked into her voice, so Leon leaped back in to distract her, not letting his curiosity about the Great Lord distract from his intention in asking these questions.
[I could wipe out these planes with ease,] he stated. [The military might of Prachtor, at least, is inferior even to that of Aeterna without taking Kataigida into account. The Four Empires there would dominate Prachtor, though conquering the whole thing might be out of their capacity. Still… my point is that I could end this conquest right now, with ease. I could fly down there and demand submission and slaughter or break everyone who resists. And yet… look at all of this metal that I’ve assembled. Is it fair that I’m sending them when I could accomplish this task on my own?]
[Don’t think about ‘fairness’,] the Thunderbird warned. [There is no such thing in the universe. There is only what you can take and what is taken from you. Do not think about ‘fair’.]
[Fair or not, it doesn’t feel right to send armies of hundreds of thousands to do what I could do alone.]
[And it never will,] the Thunderbird sternly stated. [As a King, you must always be conscious of the conflicts that are being fought in your name. You must also have the wisdom to ascertain which of these conflicts deserve your attention. You cannot let your armies wither while you do all the fighting. That may work on a single plane where you can reach anywhere quickly, but in the universe, where the distances between planes are inconceivably vast, you cannot be everywhere at once, and you can’t travel anywhere as quickly as you’d like. Accepting this is key to becoming a great interplanar King. Rejecting it will lose you your throne.]
Leon softly chuckled. [A little dramatic, don’t you think? I’m so often told that it’s my power that builds the Kingdom, yet it’s all of these people, I’d say, that builds it.] Leon waved generally all around him, indicating the entire expeditionary force.
[Don’t overthink this, boy; you need only accept the limits of space and the limits of your power. As the King, you are the keystone in your Kingdom, but your vassals and retainers are extensions of your will. Let them be your eyes and hands where you cannot be. Let them expend energy when you don’t need to. Learn to delegate.]
[That’s what I’m doing,] Leon testily replied. He sighed again. [I suppose this will never feel ‘right’.]
He heard the Thunderbird click her beak in agreement. [Nor should it,] she added. [No King ought to be idle, allowing the world to come to him. Idle too long, and the world will move on.]
Another silence stretched between them, a silence that Leon was willing to continue until the Thunderbird broke it.
[Get up, Leon,] she commanded. [I want to show you something.]
His curiosity piqued, Leon followed her instructions until he found himself standing in an adjacent meeting room, just as gilded and ostentatious as all the rest of Storm Herald was. He had been directed to a specific projected mural showing a young-seeming man kneeling before the Thunderbird, his arms outstretched, three crowns falling from his fingers to land at the Thunderbird’s talons.
[Diocles,] the Thunderbird identified. [Had he survived the ending of the Primal Age, I would’ve gone to my grave content knowing that he would’ve succeeded me. My eldest child who awoke my power within their blood. My perfect boy, my pride and joy. You can see him here throwing the triple diadems of Thangmorthan on the floor before me. He’d personally slain the Triarchs in single combat, conquering their realm, and bringing three planes under my wings. He outperformed every expectation I had for him, and the pride when he strode into my throne room as a conquering hero cannot be overstated.
[And yet… when he left for that expedition, I was beside myself with worry. I could hardly eat, and I felt like I molted my coat twice over as I awaited his return. When he did, I was overjoyed.] She paused a moment, and when she spoke again, her tone had dropped precipitously. [Many of my other children were not as skilled or lucky as Diocles. Some of them almost matched him. And that’s not even saying anything about my commanders. I fretted over them all, even if I didn’t show it as much as I could have at the time.
[You will never get away from this, Leon. Make your peace with it. If you don’t, then you will never know peace.]
[It’s hardly that easy,] Leon protested. [Those were your children. Worrying is a parent’s duty, isn’t it? I… can hardly imagine sending any kid of mine off to war while I wait for their return. I’d rather go off to war while keeping them safe from harm.]
[In doing so, you might bring harm to those you care about. You should always keep your talons sharp, my boy, and allowing your commanders to fight will keep them sharp. Giving your children the experience in war that they’ll need is paramount, too. It is up to you to evaluate their abilities and assign them tasks that they can actually complete. That, more than anything, is the job of a King.]
Leon nodded mutely, though right when he was about to reply, Lucianus knocked on the door of the meeting room, having been led there by several of Leon’s shadow-like Tempest Knights. It appeared that Clear Day contacted Storm Herald and informed them that he was bringing some guests. It seemed that his diplomatic efforts were once more paying off.
