novelraw Chapter 1328 - Scale of the Threat
Chapter 1328 - Scale of the Threat
Leon and Iron-Striker, with their hangers-on, left Westmount quietly, with Serana and the Tempest Knights that Leon allocated to her quickly catching up. No one said a word, the darkness and silence of the night lending their movement a sense of gravity that none dared violate.
When they reached Nestor’s lab, Leon, Iron-Striker, and Serana headed inside, while the rest of their followers waited in the lab’s atrium. The lab itself was small relative to its importance, with some researchers coming and going to support Nestor as he needed. Upon their arrival, however, Nestor was alone, working quietly on a golem frame with several pieces of thunder wood amber filled with wisps on a table beside him. Given how familiar he was with Nestor’s varied projects, Leon immediately knew that he was trying to replicate the process that had created the stone giants. Without the notes and reports of his experiments from that time and the supporting infrastructure of the ancient Thunderbird Clan, however, it would likely take centuries more to replicate that success, by Leon’s estimation.
‘And even more if he continues to deny the giants their sapience…’
“Leon,” Nestor murmured, sounding only slightly surprised as Leon, Serana, and Iron-Striker entered the main lab area, wound their way through the scattered tables, large enchantment slates, and bits of golem parts hanging from the ceiling, and joined him at his table.
“The Wailing Dirge,” Leon said without preamble. “And that other thing. Where are its skulls?”
“In storage,” Nestor replied simply. “They haven’t been moved. Why?”
Leon nodded, tempted to go and get them right that moment. However, his information about what Valeria found was limited, and until she shipped everything back to Artorion, it would remain limited.
“Valeria found something on the old colony of Antaas,” Leon said as he filled in the other three about what his wife had been confronted with.
It didn’t take long for him to finish, but when he did, Nestor had long since ceased his work and gave Leon his full attention.
“Eurydoros…” he whispered, the metallic resonance of his voice within his metal body throwing his melancholy into stark relief. “Our Honored Ancestor said that you were the last of our bloodline, Leon, so this doesn’t shock me to hear that he’s dead. But… as far as the distant relations to our main branch of the Clan went, Eurydoros was one of the better ones.”
“How so?” Leon asked, unable to help himself despite what else he had to discuss.
“He was humble,” Nestor quickly explained. “He supported the Clan without question and was content with not having his bloodline awakened, as his father was before him. I wasn’t that close with him in life, but he always knew his place.”
Serana turned contemplative, and even Iron-Striker was quiet for a while. “Those who are refused bloodline awakening,” Serana said, “are often bitter. Those who accept it without argument are to be cherished for their sacrifice.”
“It is a brutal thing, to deny one the power in their blood,” Iron-Striker mused. “In the Tribes, all who can awaken their bloodlines are given the chance. I would never force any of the Bears to forsake such an integral piece of themselves just to preserve the power of others.”
“I’m surprised your Cl—your Tribe has lasted this long, then,” Serana said with a wry grin.
“Power is shared amongst us,” Iron-Striker said. “All of us are given the opportunity to rise. It is only the refuge of the fearful to so maim another of their Clan. Let them connect with their Ancestor, give them a chance at seizing power with their own hands, and you make the entire Tribe stronger.”
“Such lack of restraint invites chaos,” Serana said. “All Clans of the Nexus know this. Limit those who are allowed such power, or else you’ll lose your power.”
“Shortsighted,” Iron-Striker argued as he fully turned to face Serana, Leon and Nestor watching with mild amusement. “How can you stand as a Clan if you do not allow your Clanmates thrive? You do not strengthen your Clan, but yourself, and that is selfishness I reject without hesitation.”
Scoffing audibly, Serana asked, “And if another were to rise and threaten your position?”
“I attained my position through skill, luck, and the beneficence of my King,” Iron-Striker said. “He could have had me executed, and most of the Tribes would have celebrated.”
“To be fair,” Leon interjected, “you did side with me in the end. And since then, you’ve more than proven yourself capable.”
Iron-Striker bowed his head in thanks before turning back to Serana. “If another were to rise, then I would do what I could to support them, to ensure that they would serve this Kingdom as faithfully as I have.”
“And if they’re selfish and reject all of your principles?” Serana challenged.
“Then I would steer them rightly,” Iron-Striker said definitively.
Serana scoffed again. “You would not live long as a King. No self-respecting King would ever allow such a challenge to his own power.”
Amused though he was, Leon decided that this was a good place to get them back on topic.
“Let’s talk about why we’re here,” Leon jumped in, noting Iron-Striker and his mother sharing defiant and argumentative looks before giving him their attention. “Almost from the moment that I set foot in the Nexus, I have been running into this.”
With a wave of his hand, he conjured some of his notes regarding the runes he’d found related to what had been carved into the forehead of the Wailing Dirge.
“First, in the Aesii below us. Then at Kavad’s Lance. Again at Voidshore, but that time it was used by Basileus Triyr instead of a monster. Silver masks were found in the lair of the Wailing Dirge and engraved on the monuments of that abandoned city, as well as in Iaivi Fortress and Khosrow’s Fane. And now, Valeria has reported to me that she found another beast with similar markings.”
He showed Valeria’s letter, relayed from the outposts she’d left behind as she pushed into the Great Strand of Rhea.
“Countless horned serpents, each with a horn with this rune carved into it, among other enchantments. She says that she managed to find a fragment and will send it back here at her earliest convenience.”
“A remarkable find given how thoroughly she reported destroying Antaas’ capital,” Nestor said.
“She excavated some of the tunnels outside of the city and found several intact horns—”
[Let me out. I want to see this.]
Leon halted, drawing curious looks from the others until he pointed to the Ancestor Gem. Attempting to replicate it was one of Nestor’s many projects, so when it wasn’t in active use, it was kept here, in his lab. With a quick expression of his power, the gem flashed with light, and the Thunderbird appeared in the magical flesh, her expression neutral and collected.
“Who is the ‘Lord’ spoken of in this enchantment?” she asked as she approached the table.
“Khosrow,” Leon said. “Obviously.”
“And why is it obvious?” she asked.
“It’s clearly correlated with his followers, and since he took the title of ‘Great Lord’, it seems fitting that this ‘Lord’ rune is his.”
“I never saw it in my time,” the Thunderbird said.
“Perhaps my Ancestor has something to add?” Serana asked, her voice only tinged with hope rather than filled with it.
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The Thunderbird gave her a sympathetic, almost patronizing smile. “How many times have you spoken with him in the past decade, my dear?”
Serana scowled and didn’t answer, though Leon knew it was relatively frequently. She spoke with the Great Black Dragon more than he did, and the Great Black Dragon was still actively trying to teach him to consciously use his Eye of Calamity, though with little success. He could at least induce it fairly easily within Leon, though the conscious expression of that power remained elusive—as did transforming into a draconic body.
When her only answer was silence, the Thunderbird continued, “You should know by now that that old fossil is much less competent than he lets on. If you want something destroyed, he’s the best at it, but for anything else, he only pretends to know what he’s doing.”
Leon fought the urge to snicker. In his experience, the Thunderbird wasn’t lying; the Great Black Dragon had been less help than Leon had hoped he’d be, though whether that was due to incompetence or his extremely aloof nature, Leon couldn’t say.
“Leon,” the Thunderbird said as she turned to him, “Khosrow was my greatest enemy, and the man who struck the mortal blow that ended my life. To believe that his followers will be anything less than the purest and most devoted of enemies is to fool yourself.”
“I never thought that to begin with,” Leon drily replied.
“Then let me be clearer: they will seek you ought to destroy you. To destroy us. If there are any records of Khosrow’s final battle against me and my friends, then my Clan will suffer their particular wrath. Perhaps they even had a hand in how far the Clan has fallen.”
Leon nodded. That tracked, as far as he knew. Kamran seemed a particularly devoted follower of Khosrow, if Justin’s word could be relied on.
“This,” the Thunderbird said as she waved a hand at the Lord rune, “is proof enough that they’re developing things thought impossible in my time: a way to block a mage from using their Inherited Bloodline, or even to use that Inherited Bloodline against them. You may look at this and see disparate events—”
“I don’t, that’s why I brought us here,” Leon quickly interjected.
“Then what are you going to do about it?” the Thunderbird asked. “How will you address this threat?”
Leon stared at her for a long moment before his eyes flickered first to Nestor, then to Serana, and then finally to Iron-Striker. “My Ancestor,” he said after that long moment of silence, “has made a salient point, one that I specifically wanted to address here and now, at least in an unofficial capacity. We’ve treated the Khosrow fanatics in rather conventional ways so far. We know that they’re enemies, but that hardly makes them unique, does it?”
“Dangers of power,” Serana murmured. “Everyone always wants what’s yours.” She shot Iron-Striker a pointed look, but Leon’s Chancellor pointedly ignored it.
“We need a new policy,” Leon said. “Something to actively address this threat, even if it’s only preparation. First and most obvious: Nestor, we need an answer for this damned rune.”
“We need many things,” Nestor grumbled. “I’m easily the greatest and most magnificent enchanter in all of the universe, past, present, or future, but even I have my limits. I can’t conjure everything that we need from thin air—I couldn’t do that even if I were as powerful as you.”
“Ancient runes are based on willpower, aren’t they?” Serana asked. “I admit my own ignorance in this field, but shouldn’t it be easy to come up with a solution?”
“It’s not that easy,” Nestor replied, his voice dripping with disdain though his words remained civil. “We call this a ‘Lord’ rune because that’s clearly what it’s based on. But this is a pure ‘Lord’ rune, bereft of any additions that narrow the scope and make activation easier…” With a wave of his hand, he used his meager stores of magic to conjure another rune in the air and compared it to what Leon had in his notes. The projection, while still fairly complex, was far and away simpler than the one in Leon’s notes, though they were similar enough for even an enchanting neophyte to see the relation.
“The simpler and more generic the rune,” Leon said, “the greater power, both will and magical, is required to achieve the desired outcome.”
“It also depends on the strength of whatever is opposing you,” Nestor added, eliciting a nod from Leon. “These variants of the ‘Lord’ rune we’re running into, while all different in slightly different ways, are all so specialized that they require little thought to maintain. I’d wager I could use a rune of this complexity against a fifteenth-tier mage using as generic an ancient rune as they can summon, and I’d come out the victor. Such is the difference we speak of.”
Serana frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “There still has to be some counter.”
“I’m sure there is. There is an ancient rune for everything. The trick is figuring them out. And none of us are in any position to do that.”
Adding to Nestor’s statement, the Thunderbird looked at Leon and said, “Power is, as always, the key, my boy.” Leon thought he saw a flash of anger in Serana’s eyes at that affectation, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. “Even if you never find a perfect counter, you can still power through. And when you reach the fifteenth-tier, you can begin searching in earnest for what you need.”
“‘When’?” Leon asked, grinning. “You have a lot of confidence in me.”
“In less than three hundred years, you’ve reached the thirteenth-tier,” replied the Thunderbird, her face glowing with pride. “I have no doubts that you’ll get there.”
Leon smiled. That was certainly where he was aiming to get, if not higher, but to hear it said so openly and with such conviction still had him fighting not to grin from ear to ear.
“This rune,” Iron-Striker said, bringing attention back to the matter at hand, “how long would it take to develop a countermeasure?”
“A long time,” Nestor admitted frankly. “I can’t say how long.”
“It should be noted,” Leon countered, “that when Triyr used it against me, I found it much easier to adapt than when it was used by the Wailing Dirge. If it’s not harmful, perhaps we could use the rune on ourselves? Gain experience in being hit with it so that we can adapt more easily if it’s ever used against us?”
His suggestion settled with a moment of silence, all of them considering his idea, yet none willing to put it directly to the test.
“We… would need volunteers,” Iron-Striker said. “We don’t know if there is any lasting harm in using these fell runes.”
Leon nodded in agreement.
“Using it more liberally would also give me more of an opportunity to study its effects,” Nestor mused aloud. “And the more I can learn of its effects, the more I can tailor a potential counter.”
“Get some volunteers, then,” Leon ordered, and Iron-Striker acknowledged him with a slight bow. “Now,” Leon continued, “something that concerns me is this: we have run into several creatures bearing this rune. We literally settled on top of one of them, and another was mere days away by ark. Now we find another creature not that far into Rhea, by a relative measure. So either we’ve been extraordinarily lucky—for a given definition of ‘lucky’—or there are many of these things out there in the universe, just waiting to be found.”
“A disturbing thought,” Iron-Striker said as he stroked his well-bearded chin.
“However many there are,” the Thunderbird declared, “you’ll destroy them. Every one of them. Such things can’t be allowed to exist, and neither can whoever made them.”
“I agree in principle,” Leon said. “But ‘destroy them all’ might not be entirely practical. I don’t want to argue semantics and edge-cases, but that’s just the reality.”
“We can still issue standing orders to hunt down any sightings of creatures marked with these runes,” Iron-Striker suggested.
“Announcing grand hunts with these things as the ultimate prize would be a great way to get the entire Kingdom looking,” Serana proposed.
“I’d say we should do both,” Leon said. “I agree fully that we’ll have to destroy them. But I’m also curious as to what the point of making these creatures is in the first place. They were obviously test subjects, but what, specifically, was being tested?”
“… How to counter our bloodlines?” Nestor asked, his question sounding less like a question and more like a statement colored by confusion as to why Leon would ask something so obvious.
“The murals down in the Aesii,” Leon said, “showed the Wailing Dirge—or who I assume to be the Wailing Dirge—in human form, as I recall. He was transformed, somehow. I thought that keeping that in mind was important.”
“Our transformation enchantments are unique in the universe,” Iron-Striker said. “If someone had unlocked the secret to transforming those with bloodlines, it would’ve spread by now, as it has been by your orders.”
“Unless it was discovered by our enemies,” Leon said. “Valeria’s talk about a ‘horned serpent’ brought back unpleasant memories. If those serpents she fought against were anything like what I have fought against, then all three of these creatures were once human. I believe that we should keep in mind the possibility that our enemies know quite a bit more about bloodlines than simply how to attack us through them.”
“What should we do with that?” Serana asked. “We can’t not use our power!”
“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Leon said. “But we might find success in broadening our skills. Employing other means of attack and defense. Relying less on our inherited powers than we might otherwise. If someone has an effective counter, then we’d be slaughtered the moment they reveal themselves.”
The gravity of his statement set in with the other four. Of them, Iron-Striker was the first to respond.
“We have weapons, varied and in great quantities. Most of our warriors bear no Inherited Bloodlines. We are not, in the broad sense, reliant on such powers.”
“How many of our officers bear such powers?” Leon asked. “They may not be numerous, and we’ve certainly diversified our recruiting pool since coming to the Nexus, but most of those in power within my Kingdom are still drawn from the Ten Tribes. Even if the greater part of our army is unaffected, if our leaders are taken out by these runes, then we are still left in a losing position.”
Iron-Striker conceded the point with a nod. In the wake of Leon’s statement, silence fell upon the lab for several long seconds.
“I don’t expect an answer right this moment,” Leon said more conciliatingly. “We’ll put together a more detailed plan for dealing with these things, and we’ll be more prepared when next they show themselves. Keep all of this in mind going forward.”
Iron-Striker, Nestor, and Serana all nodded their agreement, and the Thunderbird smiled and returned to his soul realm. With all that said, Leon decided it was time to return to the celebration. They didn’t need a solution right that very second, so there wasn’t much need to throw aside all other obligations to find one.
However, he would keep an eye out for more of these creatures. Eventually, he hoped to gain a greater understanding of who, specifically, was responsible for this, and what, specifically, they wanted—at least, aside from the destruction of all those with Inherited Bloodlines.