The Storm King

Unlike the approach to Redspark, no welcoming parties came out to meet Leon’s group on their final approach to Lancefoot. From what he could see from the air, no one even seemed to notice his party’s approach, which with the examples of the occasional ship, ark, and other party that appeared to be making its way to the city, wasn’t unusual.

Still, as Leon led the way in to land close to what passed for a checkpoint into the city—there were no walls, but the checkpoint was a freestanding gatehouse that seemed more ceremonial than anything—he couldn’t help but feel some type of affront.

On the other hand, not being treated as particularly special was relieving, in its own way. Being able to freely conduct his business in peace was his ideal, even if all of his expectations as a King demanded more attention from the locals.

So, while he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of Lancefoot’s apparent indifference, he could hear the grumbling from others in his party about their treatment.

“You’d think someone would’ve come out to greet us by now…” Alix muttered, the loudest out of any of Leon’s party.

“The group that conquered Shatufan ought to be afforded more respect,” Felix agreed.

“Slow down there, kid,” Gaius responded in a more cautious tone. “Why don’t you tell me what and how you conquered? Because that was hardly a conquest worth bragging about.”

Felix frowned lightly, then shot a sly glance at Cosmo. “Well, there was this girl, a lioness if ever I saw one, and a model for Lion fashion, who Cosmo was trying to court. But after I laid on the charm, she wound up with me, instead…”

Leon’s lips twitched in amusement at the three responses that the statement elicited.

“I wasn’t trying to court her! She was a friend and a training partner! And still is!” Cosmo insisted.

“That’s not what I meant, Felix!” Gaius chided.

“Did you just call her a ‘girl’?! I didn’t raise you to be so disrespectful!” Alix cried, scandalized.

Felix seemed most contrite in the face of Alix’s anger, but Leon tuned out his hurried apologies. By this point, they had landed and were on their approach to the checkpoint. The large courtyard they’d landed in was still one of the smallest on the outskirts of the city and didn’t happen to have much foot traffic. A few stalls selling trinkets and cheap food were scattered around, drawing the attention of most of the courtyard’s sparse population, while the arrival of Leon’s party attracted little more than mild and fleeting curiosity.

The checkpoint ahead was staffed by guards wearing what Leon could tell was civilian attire, while the only thing that indicated some kind of official duty was a red sash around their waists and over one shoulder. Leon couldn’t even identify any officers among their group, so similarly were the guards dressed.

Making matters more complicated, from what he could sense, there were several groups of guards, all wearing sashes to denote their status, though all of different colors.

There were five in total: red on the south side of the city, white in the busy and most built-up central area, blue on the coast in the north, green closer to the Paleholt Forest in the west, and finally gold in the east, where the ‘official’ entrance to Kavad’s Lance could be found. Aside from these sashes, no other ministers or officials in the city could be identified. Leon couldn’t even locate any official-seeming buildings, only some rather large estates that seemed to have the most foot traffic close to the center of the city. These estates were the only places where guards of different sash colors intermingled.

As for Kavad’s Lance itself, the mountain loomed over the northeast of the city. The massive pillar of stone covered in plant life floating in the sky was quite the sight, especially since its footprint was much, much larger even than Lancefoot’s.

Now that he was closer, he could more easily sense the currents of wind that rushed through the sometimes quite small and lightning-filled gaps between the floating mountains, pushing them about, keeping some separate and others close together. This wind could kick up into presenting an obstacle even to him, which made simply flying to the top of Kavad’s Lance, buried in the ever-present clouds above, rather impractical.

To ascend the mountain, it seemed, one would have to start at a certain pavilion at the top of a hill. It was quite large, and people were constantly coming and going from the mountains from that pavilion. A strong current of wind that, as far as Leon could tell, wasn’t the result of any enchantments, would carry people up to the base of the floating mountain, while a matching current brought them back down. A few buildings had been constructed upon the mountain at the end of that current, but none seemed residential and appeared to only be staffed by a small number of gold-sashed guards.

The administration of the city confused Leon quite a bit. He had little idea where to go to find guidance and support for what he needed. In fact, the city seemed rather chaotic, with little organization in its streets, layout, or docks. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything stopping anyone from simply heading to the pavilion and immediately attempting to climb the mountain—even the gold-clad guards seemed more peacekeepers than managers of the flow of people attempting to climb this sacred mountain.

As Leon’s party approached the checkpoint, the red-sashed guards straightened up a bit, their casual conversations quieting. Leon had seen a couple others move through this checkpoint without being stopped already, but as he and his party finally came into comfortable speaking range, the strongest guard he could see, a fourth-tier mage, placed himself in their path.

“Ya’ll look new,” he called out as Leon brought his party to a halt. Despite the obvious qualitative difference between him and everyone in Leon’s party, he didn’t appear at all scared or perturbed, not batting an eye even as the Tempest Knights started fanning out behind Leon. Even the other red-sashed guards appeared ready to leave him to his fate, with no others joining him in Leon’s way.

“We are,” was Leon’s simple response.

“Then take my word of caution, bud,” the guard said. “Lancefoot is strong. Don’t fuck with us, and we won’t fuck with ya. Simple?”

Leon shrugged, not even blinking as the guard finally adopted something akin to a threatening posture, though still subtle enough to be ambiguous. “I’m just heading for the Lance. No need to mind me.”Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The guard grunted. “Ya can do that, to be sure, but if you want some unsolicited advice, I’d say ya should visit Azadan Pilos before doing anything else. No one better than him for helping newcomers out with learning the ways of this city.”

“Your advice is well received,” Leon said. “I don’t suppose it comes with directions?”

The guard smiled and gave Leon what he asked for, pointing him toward one of the five large estates in the center of the city. After that, he stepped out of Leon’s way, allowing his party to pass the checkpoint without further fuss. No tolls, no inspections, they were simply allowed to pass.

Again, Leon wondered at what the city’s administration was doing. He’d heard that the floating mountains of Kavad’s Lance were infested with monsters, and he could also sense some attention-grabbing auras deep within the Paleholt Forest just to the west, yet the city lacked walls and seemed quite lax with security.

Just staring at the city wouldn’t afford him answers in the time frame he wanted, though, so with a quiet sigh, he led his party past the checkpoint and into the city proper.

The city was fairly large, sprawling southward from the coast. It grew denser the further north Leon and his party walked, though with their combined auras, the way they moved in a group, and the general uniformity in the Tempest Knights’ attire, the locals tended to get out of their way fairly quickly. As a result, it wasn’t long before Leon led his people through the winding, often narrow streets, and into the large forum just outside of one of the only fortified areas in the entire city: Azadan Pilos’ estate.

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The estate, almost entirely built of reddish-orange bricks, was surrounded by a thick, though low wall, with only a few towers and bastions. Most of the land within the expansive estate was taken by vineyards filled with tiny, green, unripe fruits that bore closer resemblance to beans than grapes, with a road that cut these fields in half. The buildings at the center of the estate were not fortified and were smaller even than Leon’s villa in Occulara. Still, the estate accommodated far more people than Leon’s villa ever had, with streams of people coming and going at a steady rate. The road and estate were guarded by several hundred red-sashed guards, though they hardly seemed necessary given the relative peace within the city.

Rather notable in Leon’s opinion were how few of the obvious foreigners were heading to Pilos’ estate. Rather, they seemed to be concentrating more on the estate guarded by the gold-sashed guards.

It was clear to Leon that there may be some politicking at play with the different guard factions, but he didn’t care too much so long as he was able to get what he wanted. So, he strode toward Pilos’ main gatehouse.

Given how many people were coming and going from the estate, Leon thought he might have to wait in line for a while to see Azadan Pilos, but on his approach, the man who appeared to be this gatehouse’s commander waved them through, telling Leon to simply pass the lines. Azadan Pilos, it seemed was willing to speak with him immediately.

Grateful for that much consideration, at least, Leon’s party walked along the road to the estate, flanked by a pair of red-sashed guards to act as their escort. A few indignant cries followed in their wake as the guards led Leon past the line of people stretching out from the estate’s main doors and down the road between the vineyards, but no one was so passionate about their place in line that they tried to stop Leon’s party.

They weren’t led to these main gates, but rather taken around the estate to one of the smaller buildings, though given its higher level of opulence compared to the rest of the buildings, Leon thought this might be the estate owner’s personal residence.

They were met at the door of this building by a party of red-sashed guards, half a dozen attendants in simple attire, and the man who could only be Azadan Pilos himself, along with who appeared to be his wife, both of whom were clad entirely in various shades of red.

“King Leon!” the Azadan called out. “Welcome, welcome!”

Leon smiled, but just as he was about to respond, Cosmo cut in.

“Is it a welcome when our King is left to seek you out, instead of meeting him outside of the city?”

The ninth-tier Azadan faltered slightly, but replied to Cosmo in a tone that wasn’t particularly contrite, “The needs of my city trump those of any visitors. The people are not easily kept at peace, especially with so many coming and going seeking their fortunes on the mountain. I ask that you forgive any offenses, they were not intentional.”

Leon waved Cosmo back, both pleased and irritated at his performance. He didn’t want to say such things himself for fear of appearing too arrogant and alienating potential allies, so having someone else voice such complaints worked in his favor—especially since it allowed him to show his magnanimity by dismissing the concerns of his subordinates.

“It’s fine, such matters don’t rise to the point of insult.”

Pilos smiled in a way that made Leon think he may have erred, as it looked rather derisive. “What can my city aid you in, King Leon?” the man asked, jumping straight to the matter at hand.

“I’m looking to ascend the mountain,” Leon replied. “Is that not why most people come here?”

“Most people, aye,” the Azadan replied. “But you are not ‘most people’, are you? As Shatufan learned…”

Leon bit his tongue, his instinct to downplay his actions in the city clashing with his desire to appear strong and in control. So instead, he just returned Pilos’ almost predatory grin and said, “To our mutual gain. They’ll see that soon enough.”

Pilos gave him a long, searching look, before shrugging and saying, “So long as it doesn’t affect Lancefoot, I care little for it. Now, if you’re here to ascend the mountain, then I offer you my hospitality and support.” He bowed ever so slightly, his back remaining straight as his waist bent just enough to leave out any ambiguity in the gesture, though not enough to show true deference to Leon’s position. Respectful, but not subservient.

“I would be grateful for both, though as we are on something of a time crunch, I’d rather we skip straight to the ascent. Can you help me in climbing the mountain in all haste?”

“I understand your position, but surely a few hours to relax and talk won’t hurt, will it?” the Azadan asked. “I’ve been curious about matters in the south, and hearing about it from the King of those lands himself would be a novel experience.”

Leon glanced at his party. Some fatigue had built up from their rapid journey from Redspark to Lancefoot, and some rest would be good for them. He had to remind himself that their relatively quick journey through Redspark Forest could’ve gone differently if they didn’t have a good guide and a night to rest and prepare beforehand. He could sense mages as strong as he was on the mountain, and if they weren’t making rapid progress, then there was plenty of wisdom in stopping to learn from the locals about the dangers he might face.

With some reluctance, he accepted Pilos’ offer of hospitality.

“A pleasure it will be, to host a King beneath my roof,” Pilos responded, his eyes momentarily, but noticeably, flickering in the direction of the gold-sash estate.

The Azadan waved several of his attendants forward, and with their help, started showing Leon and his people around the estate, including the guest wing. As with the rest of the estate, the guest wing was built of red bricks, with a simple yet functional architectural style. The walls were painted with scenes of nature, showing oceans, forests, and mountains, while wide windows provided plenty of natural light and views of the city.

Concerningly, however, was the relative lack of enchantment in the estate as a whole. A few privacy enchantments were present in the walls preventing magic senses from seeing everything that happened within, but other than that, there were few enchantments anywhere save for a few meant to enhance the outer curtain walls’ fortifications.

Leon found it strange, but when Pilos and his wife invited Leon, Valeria, and Maia to dinner, Leon held his tongue about it.

The evening meal was held in a small, intimate dining space on a terrace overlooking the city, with Kavad’s Lance serving as a scenic backdrop.

“So,” Leon said as he sat at the round table, flanked by Valeria and Maia, while Pilos sat on the other side, his wife to his right, “what does the Azadan of this city do on a daily basis?”

“Ahh, business talk,” Pilos said in a relishing tone, his wife grimacing slightly. “My favorite.”

Somewhat grumbling, his wife said, “I normally don’t allow such serious talk at my table, King Leon, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“For that, Lady Janissa, you have my gratitude.”

The first course was soon served, mostly consisting of bread, cheese, and an assortment of berries in all colors of the rainbow, and Pilos explained to Leon how Lancefoot was run.

In short, it was, in Leon’s mind, a nightmarishly informal affair, consisting mostly of a loose alliance between five Azadan. They mostly kept out of each other’s way, preferring looser competition to outright war. If Pilos could be believed, there hadn’t been any violence between their families in almost two thousand years.

There had, he’d assured Leon, been some killings, riots, and skirmishes, but reason and brotherly love had ultimately won out, leaving Lancefoot remarkably stable despite how informal the governing system was. The people were mostly allowed to go about their business so long as they didn’t interrupt that peace, and in return, they largely stayed out of the Azadan’s affairs.

Leon thought the whole thing tenuous, but if it worked, then it worked.

Going into more detail, Pilos said that as far as the Azadan were concerned, Jokos, who commanded the Gold Sashes, was the wealthiest and most influential of them. He insisted that they were all equal, but Jokos was, perhaps, the most equal among their number since it was his responsibility to support the potential climbers of the mountain.

As he explained that, Leon wondered if he’d made a mistake coming to Pilos’ estate rather than making for Jokos’, but Pilos seemed quite keen to provide him what support he could. After hearing him speak a little longer, Leon judged that the Azadan of Lancefoot likely found it prestigious to host foreigners in their estates, and that having post-Apotheosis mages, in particular, was something to brag about. Pilos was generous with his hospitality because simply having Leon under his roof elevated his position, which he needed if what he insinuated and what Leon could sense was true, Pilos was the weakest and poorest of the Azadan in the city.

Despite this, Pilos insisted that he could arrange for the best guide in the whole city to lead Leon up the mountain. No one living had laid their eyes upon the eponymous lance at the top of the mountain, but this guide, Pilos told Leon, had come the closest out of anyone. If anyone could get him up the mountain quickly, it was this guide.

Leon could sense it wouldn’t be quite that easy, but for the moment, contented himself with the rest of the meal, their conversation shifting from the mountain to the war in the south as the second course was served.

When dinner was finally over, Pilos promised to send word to the guide to come to the estate in the morning. Hopefully, if the guide agreed to join Leon’s party, they’d be able to begin their ascent immediately.

After that, Pilos said, what happened was in the hands of the gods.

Leon, however, quietly disagreed. He was going to reach Kavad’s lance at the top of Kavad’s Lance, and if the gods wanted to stop him, he would burn them all to ashes for getting in his way.