Chapter 1267: Nyra’s Response

For several seconds, Leon watched Nyra experience a thousand different emotions, each one visible on her golden face. Surprise, suspicion, elation, anger, disbelief, and so many more. Were it not concerning such a personal topic, he’d have been amused by just how expressive her face turned out to be.

When she finally managed to pry open her lips and coerce her tongue into speech, she weakly sputtered, “Wha…? But… I don’t…”

His fingers still ablaze with black fire, Leon extended Serana’s memory slate. Her words, as far as he was concerned, were for him alone, but as he did with Clear, he was going to share them with whoever he needed to in order to prove his identity. Nyra, however, stared at the proffered slate as if it were something foreign and profane, and instead of taking it, she took a step back.

“Need some time to process?” Leon asked as he did his best to suppress his disappointment in her reaction.

‘Understandable, though… she is only fifteen…’

“Give me a moment to think,” she asked as she turned away and stared at the wall where a projected scene glowed, showing Storm Herald’s surroundings. Leon didn’t miss the fact that her eyes locked onto the Great Dragon Clans’ armada.

More than willing to give her the needed moment, Leon stepped back, dousing his black fire as he did, and returning the memory slate to his soul realm.

[Did she see enough?] Leon asked the Great Black Dragon, whose presence could still be felt in his soul realm.

His ancient draconic Ancestor replied, [My golden brother was always the one of us most inclined to put action before thought, and his scions take after him. You provided her with more than enough, but her needing time to think is… unusual.]

[You don’t exactly sound supportive of your brother,] observed Leon.

Anger almost literally burned within Leon’s soul realm, but before the source could reply, another voice appeared like an almost literal bolt from the blue. [The unity of the Dragon Clans has always been absolute, my boy. A little teasing is to be expected, don’t take it too seriously.]

Responding to the Thunderbird, the Great Black Dragon hotly growled, [My brothers and I are above your judgment, Reacher.]

[You and your brothers are just as dead as I am,] the Thunderbird snapped. [In life, I was your equal. That hasn’t changed in death.]

Sensing a fight, Leon swiftly interjected, [Is there anything that can be done to solidify my claim? I understand that you’re against stepping in with your Clan’s descendants…]

[If they want my attention, they must earn it,] the Great Black Dragon declared haughtily.

[Lucky me, for gaining it, then,] replied Leon. [All up to me, and whoever I can wrangle into this…]

[Such is the way of the Great Dragons. You take what you can hold, and hold only what you can take.]

[An ideal not followed when dealing with their brother Clans,] the Thunderbird said. [They’ll support their brothers in everything.]

[I hope that remains true,] said Leon warily as Nyra turned from the projected window, all but demanding his attention.

“You’re claims are… serious,” Nyra quietly said, her golden eyes flickering to the still-sparring members of her entourage. The use of magic and the clashing of training weapons were keeping her and Leon’s conversation fairly private, but they were still getting a few looks every now and then.

“Serious or not, they’re the truth,” Leon testily stated.

“Perhaps,” Nyra replied. “Perhaps not. That is for Uncle Fargrim to decide.”

“Will you pass along my claim, then?”

Nyra frowned. “No,” she said. “You’ll have to do it yourself. No Dragon takes an unsupported claim seriously. Prove you are who you say you are.”

Leon thinly smiled. “And how do you reckon I do that? Unless you deny my fire is what it is?”

“I’ve never seen Doomfire before in my life,” Nyra practically spat. “My Black brothers and sisters prefer to be alone.”

“I’ve heard much about the unity of the Great Dragon Clans,” Leon said as he squared up against Nyra, who lowered her center of gravity and looked ready to charge in response. “Was all that a lie? A prodigal son of the Great Black Dragon Clan reveals himself to you, and you reject him out of hand?” ŕåꞐÓ฿ÊＳ

“Present yourself to the Clan,” Nyra insisted. “Let them decide.”

“My mother was imprisoned for having me,” Leon sharply said, and Nyra did a double-take so exaggerated that she almost twisted her neck. “And I’m supposed to place myself at the tender mercies of those who would lock up their own kin? They don’t even know me!”

“Is that why…?” Nyra murmured. Focusing back on Leon, she said, “I can’t do anything.”

“You’re the Princess of the Great Gold Dragons, and you ‘can’t do anything’? I find that hard to believe.”

“I don’t believe your claims,” Nyra directly stated. “Serana is pure! She is perfect! She is everything I want to be! She did not have a child outside of the Clan!”

Softly, Leon insisted, “She is my mother. If you won’t help me, then I will find another way.”

He left the conversation there, turning his back on Nyra and walking away. There would be no further sparring between them, not with her denying his heritage.

“Fine!” she shouted after him. Shrieking at an ear-piercing volume, she addressed the rest of her entourage, “We’re leaving! Now!”

She and Leon shared a long glare as she strutted past him by the door. He provided an escort for them to get back to the hangar, but they were motivated enough to head that way without much prodding. He didn’t accompany them, but he watched them with his magic senses and found some amusement in the confusion among Nyra’s followers. They were disciplined enough not to openly question her, however.

“So,” Elise asked as she came up from behind and took his arm, “it seems it went poorly.”

“That girl looked ready to kill a bitch,” Cassandra said as she idly twirled a training sword, having put the weapon to good use during her spar with an eleventh-tier Gold Dragon.

[Should we let her go?] Maia asked. [If she means us harm…]

“Let her go,” Leon said. “Just a disagreement. Everything will be sorted out before we leave, though. This is an opportunity that I’m not going to miss.”

—

Fury boiled within her as she thought of that man’s claims. The besmirchment of Serana was unacceptable, utterly and completely over the line! Had she the power, she would’ve corrected his attitude then and there, and she was tempted to try anyway despite their spars proving his power vastly eclipsed her own.

Nyra briefly contemplated turning around as she passed the hangar’s threshold. Her followers were powerful and had to hold back against his servants… ‘We could kill the lot of them easily for this insult,’ she thought, pausing just outside the ark.

“Princess?” one of her followers asked.

She glanced at him, much of her anger melting away before his questioning stare. Brontar Thunderborn was his name, and he served as her father’s Court Tutor. Hardly the strongest of her Clan at ‘only’ eleventh-tier, but he was most knowledgeable about the Clan’s history, among more mundane skills and information. Naturally, she had learned from him from the moment she was old enough to start learning.

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Feeling half her age, Nyra averted her gaze and poutingly asked, “What?”

“Did Despot Leon render insult?” Brontar asked. “Does his attitude require correction?”

Golden eyes turned back toward Storm Herald; she could practically feel that bastard staring at her from behind.

‘We shouldn’t make trouble here,’ she thought, remembering her father’s words about being careful while at Belicenion. ‘But…’

A possibility occurred to her, one that had her suddenly smiling widely.

“I need to speak with Uncle Fargrim.”

“The everdark Patriarch is a busy man,” Brontar whispered, his tone shifting uncomfortably with the sudden direction their exchange went. “Your father has already sent an invitation for him, Princess Serana, and Prince Ryker to come and visit—”

“I know,” she insisted, her annoyance kept in check only by the fact that Brontar had been her teacher for her entire life. “I just want to speak with our calamitous kin. It was them that Despot Leon insulted, and to them that I will leave revenge.”

She sensed Brontar restraining himself mightily from responding with undoubtedly sage advice, and after a moment, he said, “Let us return to Roar of Thunder. If possible, I will speak with Prince Ryker about this insult. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to do something about it.”

Nyra smirked. Leon would get what he wanted, though not, she thought, in the form that he’d hoped for. Her wide smile returned, and she wondered, ‘Maybe I’ll finally get to meet Serana soon? And maybe she can introduce me to Fain? He’ll surely teach me to use spatial magic like that guy did against the cow…’

That possibility put a spring in her metaphorical step as she led her entourage and flew away, content in the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to deal with Leon ever again. Black Dragons, after all, didn’t suffer insults well…

—

“I cannot thank you enough,” Theron said, gratitude shining from his every pore. His skin was still pale, but his teeth had returned to normal, and the hungry look in his eye whenever he saw someone was gone. “But I’ll try anyway!”

“Think nothing of it,” Leon said with a wave of his hand. True to his promise, he and Xaphan had performed the ritual to change Theron back into a human the day after his duel with Mikaela. Theron, even as a post-Apotheosis mage, had needed a few days to recover, and when he’d done so, he’d personally come to Storm Herald to pass on his thanks, arriving mere hours after Nyra had left. Thankfully, that had been enough time for Leon to recenter himself and restrain his longing.

“You’ve given me life,” Theron insisted. “I ate an apple this morning! I didn’t have to ask anyone to donate their blood to me! The taste was so… sweet! I’d long forgotten what food tasted like! The simple pleasures of sustenance have so long been denied to me… Leon—Despot Leon, what you have done for me demands an equal payment. You have returned my life to me, and in return, I give you my life.” He kneeled and bowed his head, and Leon was grateful that they were alone, else he would’ve been more than a little embarrassed. “I offer you my fealty, my service. For as long as I live, I will be your retainer, your sworn shield, your advisor… however you may need my skills, you will have them.”

Theron’s eyes turned upward expectantly, and Leon found himself at a loss for words. A knock came at the door as if someone had sensed his mental state and came to offer him an excuse to leave without responding, but he ignored it, as did Theron, who stared unwaveringly up at Leon.

“This is… complicated,” Leon said. “We’ve gone over this before; your neck of the woods is unstable, and a great swathe of the Void separates our borders. I have little power to defend you as we are now…”

“That will change,” Theron confidently said, both ignoring a repeated knock. “I can see your ambition. Your blood is destined for the throne of the Storm Lands, to once again rule over the Storm Lords as our King. I do not care that you’re restrained now, for I know that that will soon change. Please, Despot Leon… King Leon… accept my fealty. What you have done for me is worth nothing less.”

‘He’s not wrong…’ Leon said to himself, and he supposed he’d already tentatively accepted when first floating the idea of the ritual. He just thought he’d have more time before having to formally accept and thus become responsible for Theron in a real way. If he failed to protect Theron as a King should, then his other vassals, many of whom might still be harboring desires for independence, would surely take notice. He hadn’t had to handle any real rebellion against his rule since the Ten Tribes first declared him their King, and the Tiger Hector led a mutiny against the decision, but that streak would surely break at some point. Failing in his duty with Theron might just prompt such a breakage…

But… if Theron was fine with matters as they were…

“Very well,” Leon said. “I accept your fealty.”

Theron smiled. “I have known no Lord before. No Lord I have met deserved my loyalty. But without thought for compensation, you offered me something beyond value, and that virtue is why I offered you what I have to no other. Thank you for accepting my fealty; you will not regret this, I swear it.”

With an insistent curling of his fingers, Leon bid Theron to rise, and the man acquiesced. “After the Games,” Leon said, “I plan on launching into a proper conquest out into the Great Strand of Rhea. There are plenty of populated clusters between our borders, so reaching you may take time, especially since I aim to make some trouble with a certain group that may have some other thoughts about what I should be doing in the coming months and years. All this to say that you should be expecting my arks to start pushing in your direction as soon as we can manage.”

“I have held on for this long,” Theron said. “I’ll hold on a little longer. I look forward to welcoming you into my cluster. My people are earnest and hard-working, and will make strong and trustworthy partners, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure that’ll be the case,” replied Leon sincerely. “Now, I’m sure we could stand here and slaver over each other for hours more, but I think the people outside are getting a bit impatient…”

“I should be off,” Theron immediately said. “I suspect we may not speak again during the Games, my Lord, but I will stay in touch and await your coming.”

Leon smiled and nodded, eager to get to the next thing. When he opened the door, Theron headed out, and Anna stuck her head in, looking apologetic. “Ingrid’s here, Leon.”

With his magic senses, Leon immediately located her chatting with Archelaus and Gwarim. All three were in a small recreation room that Maia and Elise had turned into a private library, smiling and laughing. None of them were reading anything but seemed to have chosen to meet where they did for the quiet privacy.

“She say why?” he asked as he and Anna made their way over.

“Not to me,” replied Anna a little testily.

“All right, then. I’m sure it’s for something important.”

“I hope it isn’t; important things tend to be dangerous when you’re involved.”

Leon smirked. “That just means that they’re exciting.”

Anna shrugged. “I promised Helen that I’d return in one piece. And I don’t think Eirene would be too thrilled with me if I came back broken, either. So… maybe take it a bit easy on the excitement?”

Leon’s smile froze on his face as the earlier reveal with Nyra flashed through his mind. He would’ve responded with some kind of cheeky answer, but the possibility that he’d already made enormous trouble for his people froze his tongue.

“I don’t like that look,” Anna said. “It’s really not reassuring. I was joking, you know, but the sentiment was real…”

“It’s fine,” responded Leon with as much bravado as he could muster. “Everything’s fine. And if it isn’t, I’ll make it fine.”

Anna gave him a genuinely worried look and simply said, “I hope so. I trust you, Leon.” With that, she posted up beside the door of the library, the Tempest Knights following at a respectful distance doing the same. Leon gave her as reassuring a look as he could before heading into the library.

“Leon!” Gwarim boomed as he entered the room, drawing the others’ attention to him immediately. “We were just talking about you!”

“Your handling of Basilissa Mikaela, to be precise,” Archelaus clarified. “And Despotissa Ingrid’s even-handed application of discipline to her husband, too.”

“Former husband,” Ingrid further elucidated. “It was finalized this morning. With that, he owes me nothing more.”

“All of the terms of the duel have been met?” Leon asked, surprised that it had happened so quickly, especially since Basileis Morui and Triyr hadn’t done anything at all to fulfill their obligations.

“More or less. I accepted double the payment in material resources in exchange for Mikaela not needing to publicly apologize to me for stealing Vrothgar away. Knowing what’ll come of their relationship… I didn’t mind, I just wanted it to be over.”

“So long as you’re happy with that arrangement,” Leon said.

“What’ll come in that relationship?” inquired Gwarim, his curiosity unable to let that statement go.

“It’ll fall apart,” Ingrid said matter-of-factly. “Mikaela took him because she could. Because she didn’t like me. She’d never even met me, and she said that she didn’t like me! So she stole my husband!”

“At least she was given a painful lesson,” Gwarim said with a pointed look sent Leon’s way.

“Yes,” Ingrid neutrally said. “I don’t care about her. She would never have succeeded without Vrothgar, though. He’s the one I’m still mad at, but not enough to prolong his suffering.”

“He tell you why he left?” Leon asked.

“He did during our duel,” Ingrid sighed. She collapsed into the nearest chair and continued, “He told me that part of the reason why he married me is because he never wanted children. Being with a bearer of an Inherited Bloodline made it less likely that something would happen… Thing is, he never told that to me. Never. He told me that he’s been thinking about leaving ever since our daughter was born.”

“She’s still an infant, isn’t she?” Archelaus said in disbelief.

“Just over two years old,” Ingrid confirmed. “To make this brief, he and Mikaela don’t love each other. They never did. Vro panicked and left. Mikaela is a cunt. They won’t be happy together. I’m over it. Or over it enough that I just want to be done with it. Which… brings me to this, Leon. I wanted to thank you for acting as my second. I am grateful beyond words, and my previous offer is still open. When the Games are over, I’ll visit Artorion and speak with you further in person.”

“That works for me,” said Leon with a welcoming smile.

“Good. I also came here to say goodbye. I have some fires to put out back in Luthergard; whatever else he was, Vrothgar was one of my Strategoi, and his absence will be felt. So… fuck the Belicenian Games, I’m needed at home. I’ll be leaving before the day’s done.”

Leon, Gwarim, and Archelaus each said their goodbyes, and Ingrid took her leave. It was disheartening to have two allies leave in such close succession, but Leon contented himself with the knowledge that he had a study filled with correspondence from more potential allies. Storm Lords had taken notice of him first on Voidshore and now on Belicenion, and that wasn’t even counting Anushirawan’s impending get-together.

‘And maybe some shenanigans with the Great Dragons to fit in there…?’ Leon thought. ‘That should make for a party to remember…’

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