The Storm King

With the force of a hundred bolts of lightning, Leon surged toward the dais. Iron Pride blazed with power as lightning arced between the tips of the guard and the blade. Leon’s golden eyes were narrowed in anger and determination as the shadows around the park darkened.

Atop the dais, Khaji’Yun simply smiled as a curtain of darkness descended over the dais, obscuring him from view so rapidly that even Leon amped up on lightning magic was unable to reach the dais in time. With a roar of frustration, Leon sliced into the curtain, letting his built-up power loose.

Silver-blue lightning shredded the curtain as the thunder Leon brought shattered the dais beneath it. However, the curtain barely dissipated in time for Leon to see a wave of darkness rolling toward him. He raised Iron Pride and let loose with a storm of power, pushing the wave back.

At the same time, he projected his magic senses to find where Khaji’Yun had gone. He might’ve still been behind the wave of darkness, but a moment later, Leon detected the cultist stepping out of a shadow behind him.

Leon spun about and charged in the same step; the cultist had appeared next to Ard’Nara, his hand outstretched toward the unconscious Prince, his fingers blackened with darkness magic. With tremendous speed, Leon closed with the cultist and swung Iron Pride, firing off a large lightning bolt that struck the cultist…

… and passed right through. Khaji’Yun halted in place just long enough to turn his head just enough to make eye contact with Leon and grin before vanishing.

Far above them, the black clouds raged as power built up and fought against Leon as he contested the Devil’s rule over the sky. Lightning rained down upon Naxor Amis, purple and silver-blue in equal measure, and every broken and hollowed-out building that was struck was rendered into dust on the wind. The ground shook as the storm grew worse, and the wind picked up and began to blow through the silent city for the first time in what seemed to be decades. Dust was kicked up and blotted out everything farther away than a few dozen feet.

But for Leon, little of this made much difference as he scoured the former park for the cultist. When Khaji’Yun was not forthcoming, he soon turned his attention to the large crystal in the center of the park, just behind the annihilated dais. Within, the dozens of corpses piled high turned their dry, mummified faces in Leon’s direction.

“Help us,” a voice called out, apparently originating from the crystal. “Free us… please…”

‘If he’s not going to come to me, then I’ll make him come out and fight!’ Leon thought as his heart beat with some amount of furious resolve. Khaji’Yun had seen into Leon’s mind to at least some extent, and Leon was not going to let that go unpunished.

Leon bolted over to the crystal, his body cutting clean through the dust howling all about him, and stabbed Iron Pride into the crystal. He channeled his magic through the blade and into the crystal, and the crystal shattered.

With the sound of shattering glass, everything in Naxor Amis went still. The dust froze in the air, and the lightning raining down from the black clouds above did likewise, casting the city in purple and silver-blue light. It was like some omnipotent god had simply paused the whole world, with Leon as the sole exception.

He looked around with some confusion, but his unspoken question was soon answered as a massive red eye materialized above the suddenly-reformed purple crystal. It turned in his direction and glared down at him as the light from the dueling lightning dimmed and the city darkened.

A wave of darkness threw Leon back from the crystal, and he landed quite roughly on the stone tiles of what was once a pathway through the park.

“Leon Raime,” Khaji’Yun said, clearly relishing his use of Leon’s name, “defying the true gods is not so easy, but your willpower and decisiveness are to be commended.”

The cultist’s voice came from all around him, preventing Leon from getting a good idea of where it was truly coming from. Making matters worse, the darkness of the city was growing deeper and denser, and the outermost buildings were already fading from view.

Leon shot to his feet and called upon his power, but as he raised Iron Pride, nothing happened. No lightning erupted from the blade, nor could he feel any power flowing down his arm.

“To stand against a god is no small thing,” Khaji’Yun continued. “Bravery is something you clearly have in abundance, too.”

Leon detected motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to confront it. He could feel his power lying dormant within him, but as far as he could tell, the enchantments in his armor were still working properly, so he at least had some magical enhancements to his speed. What he saw when he saw what was moving, however, rendered all that speed useless as he instinctively froze up, his mind locking for a moment in confusion.

Elise had stepped out of the darkness, her green eyes flashing with defiance, a smile of pure disdain upon her lips. Perhaps more eye-catching than that was her stomach, which had grown slightly—a sign of pregnancy.

“There you are, ‘husband’,” she spat, more vitriol falling from her tongue than sound. “It’s about time I told you: we’re done. Or more accurately… you’re done.” She rubbed her stomach. “I have what I wanted—a child of House Raime. My child will rule as the King or Queen of the Thunder Kingdom; you will just get in the way. Will you do me one last kindness for the love you have for me, and die as quickly as you can?”

‘Not real, not real,’ Leon thought to himself even as the words of his wife’s shadow, spoken in her sonorous voice, cut him to the bone. He tried to move, but his body refused to obey, forcing him to stand there and listen.

To stand there and take the hits.

Motion from the corner of his eye drew his attention again, but this time, it was Maia who appeared, in a similar state of early pregnancy. “I’m returning to Saron, boy,” she said to Leon. “My daughters will rule the oceans thanks to the power they will inherit from you. Do not look for us; we don’t need you. I don’t need you.”

Leon tried to respond, but his throat felt stiff and unresponsive, preventing any noise from passing his lips. He was still frozen in place, and it seemed no exception was made for his ability to speak.

It was Valeria’s turn to appear, and she did so right beneath a frozen bolt of purple lightning, her silver hair seeming to glow in the same violet shade. Her stomach, in contrast to Maia and Elise, was as flat and toned as ever. “Worthless,” she stated as her cold blue eyes locked onto Leon. “How could I ever love someone so powerless? How could I have ever thought someone like you could’ve helped me find my mother and reunite my family? That is a mistake I will never make again…”

Her words were harsh, but by now, Leon had hardened his heart, and they rolled right off him about as easily as they could’ve—which was to say he knew they were fake, but he would dwell on those words in the deepest, quietest parts of the night for the foreseeable future. For now, though, he put them out of his mind just in time for Cassandra to appear.

“My grandmother was truly foolish to try and tie you to our family,” the blond Princess stated with vehement contempt. “You are nothing. A King?! Of those pathetic Sky Devils? They’ve already abandoned you! And you’re going to die alone and unloved, as you’ve always deserved!” She paused as a vicious smile spread across her face. “Consider this our divorce. I need a husband at least strong enough to handle me.” A shadowy male figure appeared beside her and swept her off her feet before carrying her off into the darkness, from which only the sounds of her enthusiastic pleasure emerged.

Leon knew what was going on. This was a game he’d played before, and beaten. This time, the lock keeping him under was far more robust, but as he called upon his power, he could feel a distant stirring in the deepest recesses of his body in response.

A fifth figure emerged, and though he’d prepared himself for it, Leon still felt his heart skip a beat.

Artorias stepped out of the darkness.

“My son,” he intoned, scorn dripping from every syllable. “A failure, and a disgrace to House Raime. Who could’ve ever placed their hopes in you? You’re powerless, worthy only of—”

“That’s not true!” Khaji’Yun called out, interrupting Leon’s father. Leon himself was so surprised that he momentarily stopped trying to call upon his power. However, he began again even before his eyes started swiveling about, looking for the source of the cultist’s voice.

He found that source quickly as Khaji’Yun stepped out of the darkness opposite Artorias, with Leon in the middle.

“You’re not worthless, Leon,” the cultist softly stated with a welcoming smile. “You are not alone. I am here, as is the true gods. You have value, you have family, you are loved.” He strode toward Leon, a familial smile on his face. “Take my hand, my poor, lost brother. Take my hand; let me embrace you as family. Take my hand and never be alone again.”

Leon felt his limbs loosen slightly as whatever force was keeping them from following his commands abated. Khaji’Yun strode right up to Leon, his hand outstretched, not a speck of killing intent to be read in his aura. The cultist seemed completely genuine—or so all of Leon’s senses were telling him, but he knew the truth.

He opened his mouth and found that he could speak again, to his muted delight. “I see where they got this trick,” he said, a mountain of wrath hidden behind his words.

Khaji’Yun’s smile dimmed ever so slightly. “Who?” he asked worriedly.

Leon fixed him in his incandescently enraged gaze, his golden eyes darkened to a dangerous red-orange. “Darkness demons,” he answered simply before silver-blue lightning flashed overhead, his power finally breaking through whatever barrier had been erected in its way. Lightning surged through his body once again, and he could feel Iron Pride practically vibrating with excitement in his hand—from the blade or the Iron Needle, he wasn’t sure. Either way, power flooded his body, banishing all the vision before him. The twisted images of Elise, Maia, Valeria, Cassandra, and Artorias all dissipated like smoke while the world seemed to catch up in time. The frozen lightning started falling again as the wind picked back up. Even the image of Khaji’Yun disappeared—the only part of the vision that surprised Leon, as he’d thought the cultist to be the only real thing in it.

As he came to, he found himself once more standing in front of the purple crystal, Iron Pride raised, the swing he’d levied against it that had started the vision apparently never having been swung. He wasn’t sure how the vision had made it past his defenses or his power, but he was determined not to let it happen again. He directed as much power as he could spare to rush through his brain, banishing all traces of that profane vision, while at the same time, he brought Iron Pride back down onto the crystal.

This time, the Adamant bit deeply into the crystal, but didn’t destroy it in one hit. Leon’s power blasted a chunk out of the crystal, and he stabbed into the crystal again. The crystal shuddered again as another large chunk was blasted into powder. The red eye hovering over it coldly and dispassionately regarded Leon, filling him once more with the undeniable sense of futility, as if destroying this crystal would mean nothing, that it would be reversed as soon as he left the city.

Five strikes it took Leon to render the crystal into dust, and once he did, the storm raging in the city immediately fell silent. Leon’s power seized control over the sky as the power contesting him fell back. The black clouds parted, revealing the shining silver moon and all the familiar stars of the night sky. The darkness that had consumed the city receded, letting the broken buildings drink in the light of the stars for what was probably the first time in decades. Best of all, the red eye above the crystal lingered for only a second or two more before winking out of existence, leaving no trace of itself, nor the channeler’s rift, behind.

Behind Leon, he could hear Ard’Nara, Mari’Kha, and Tir’Anu begin to stir almost immediately after the crystal had been destroyed. The corpses within the crystal, meanwhile, collapsed against each other in their final moment before all turning to dust, leaving Leon with only two words.

“Thank you…”

Leon breathed hard, speeding back to the rest of his team, his eyes, still practically glowing red-orange, spun about in their sockets, looking for Khaji’Yun.

His search was soon rewarded as the cultist stepped out of a shadow on the other side of the park, the nearly omnipresent grin on his face now gone, replaced with a look of disbelief and growing anger.

“How… you…” he sputtered.

Leon glared at the man just long enough to make eye contact before he charged. This time, however, it wasn’t lightning that filled his body, but fire. Black fire burned at the edges of Iron Pride, and when Leon swung the blade, the weapon brought a firestorm darker than the deepest shadow Khaji’Yun had summoned to Naxor Amis.

The cultist’s eyes widened in shock and fear as all traces of anger and incredulity vanished from his face. He hurled himself back as his body was once more covered in a thick veil of darkness, leaving only his eyes to pierce through with an unnatural red glow.

The shroud just barely snapped back into place before Leon’s fire swept over him. Leon didn’t hear any hint of the cultist succumbing to pain, so he poured more and more power through Iron Pride, increasing the size of the firestorm by leaps and bounds. Behind Khaji’Yun, the building remains melted from the heat so quickly they almost exploded in molten stone.

For a protracted moment, Leon lost himself in opening himself up and simply letting the fire and the rage stream out of him, but when the moment was over, he lowered Iron Pride and ceased the flow of power. When the last embers of black fire dissipated, he was left staring at a long field of rapidly cooling molten stone, and not even the slightest trace of Khaji’Yun remaining.

But… Leon wasn’t sure if that meant the cultist was dead or not. He hadn’t sensed much during his short tirade, but no matter how much his golden-once-more eyes across the glowing red sea of molten stone, he couldn’t find any answer to the question at the forefront of his mind.

[Damn,] Xaphan whispered. [He escaped before you could ask him about that rift.]

[He escaped?] Leon asked, unsurprised but still looking for confirmation.

[There was a spike of Devilish power, so I assume so,] Xaphan explained. [Didn’t you sense it?]

[When taken by the Great Black Dragon’s power,] the Thunderbird said, [it can be hard to see anything beyond the here and now. Welcome back, my boy, by the way. Not just from your wrath, but from the mental intrusion.]

[Well, not the first time,] Leon said as he glanced back at the rest of his team. He kept his guard up, but he figured it was time to see to them instead of looking for anything to kill.

[I remember,] the Thunderbird said, her voice coming with audible pride. [I had to push you to get out of that situation, as I recall.]

Leon started walking back over to his team and inspecting himself. His armor was in a fairly good state, though his helmet’s mental defenses were going to get a much closer inspection later. The spell that was supposed to protect him from Devilish magic was torn, though, which he found much more concerning. He needed a more permanent and less destructible solution on that front before proceeding to Tell Kirin.

He passed the broken pieces of stone that had once been Khaji’Yun’s dais on his way back to the team. He could vaguely sense some lingering magic in the dais and penciled another inspection into his immediate schedule after rendering aid to his teammates.

Once he reached the other three, he found all in various states of fitful dreaming. Ard’Nara was twitching as if he were fighting, while Tir’Anu was shivering like a naked mortal on a mountaintop. Plastered on their faces were expressions of terror and fury, though with each leaning a bit more toward one or the other. Mari was much harder to ascertain, but her Ulta suit had curled in upon itself, and Leon could sense a chaotic aura emanating from it.

Without any further ado, he carefully shocked Nara and Tir with silver-blue lightning, and each immediately calmed down.

‘Now,’ Leon thought as he stared at the Ulta suit, ‘how am I going to get that open…?’

He didn’t spend much time searching before he tried just blasting it with lightning and hoping that at least a single spark might reach Mari. He did his best not to damage it unduly, but he figured freeing her from whatever mental prison Khaji’Yun and the Primal Devil might’ve locked her in might win him some leeway in that regard.

Once that was done, he collapsed on the nearest rock large enough to sit on and waited, his mind starting to relax a bit even as he kept himself vigilant. If Xaphan was right, then Khaji’Yun was still out there, and the Primal Devil was making its presence known, too, so lowering his guard completely would be foolish.

So he just waited for his team to wake, hoping that none of them had any adverse reactions to all that had happened over the past quarter hour.