Throughout the day, Storm Herald continued to attract attention. Occasionally, someone vaguely important came to inspect the ark as well as her escorts, but none disturbed the arks enough to get Leon’s attention. This served him just fine, for he and his family faced a monumental challenge that he had prepared for but still dreaded facing.

A formal party.

‘Fuck.’

The thought raced through his head, bouncing around several times before settling in his throat where he had to summon borderline divine self-control not to voice it aloud. He tugged on his collar a bit, finding the woven fabric constricting even though it hung fairly loosely.

“Stop that,” Elise reprimanded. “That tunic cost more than a soldier makes in a year! Stretching it is unconscionable!”

Leon grimaced. “Why are we buying tunics that cost that much?” His eyes roamed the mirror projection before him, which not only displayed his reflection but also lit him perfectly. The tunic was, he had to admit, quite fetching, clinging to his toned abdomen with the aid of a white sash while the shoulders clung more loosely around his shoulders, slightly exaggerating the V-shape that his trained body already possessed. The tunic itself was primarily blue with silver trimming, and faint lightning bolts had been embroidered running up and down his chest in slimming vertical lines. The white sash around his middle was paired with a pair of white trousers trimmed in blue with more visible embroidered lightning bolts, which terminated at the top of his blue shoes.

“Because you’re a King,” Elise reminded him. “You need to look the part. No one follows a pauper.”

He coolly regarded his wife despite knowing she was right. She was dressed to the nines in the same colors as him. He’d made the argument that she should be in colors more suited to her vivid red hair and vibrant green eyes, but both she and Cassandra had successfully argued against him, reasoning that they needed to present a united front to the Storm Lords they were going to meet. Besides, they had also pointed out that his dark brown hair and gold eyes weren’t particularly suited to silver and blue either, which he couldn’t refute.

Elise’s dress was long enough to nearly cover her sandaled feet and matched his tunic almost perfectly. Tailored to show off her full and fit figure, her stark white bodice featured the same silver lightning bolts as Leon’s outfit, while the blue dress beneath flowed almost like water around her legs. Her shoulders were left bare, though she wore blue detached sleeves held up by silver arm rings in the shape of an eagle’s wings. She wore other jewelry, too, nearly all of dazzling silver and lustrous sapphires.

One of her pet projects after arriving in the Nexus involved ensuring that silkgrass could grow in the Artor Valley. Given the troubles it had growing outside of Aeterna’s Northern Vales, this was a tall order, but she’d successfully done it—and even better, she had, through the centuries, created a finer variant that took to magic well. This finer silkgrass had been used in the outfits all of Leon’s family were wearing.

Behind Elise, Leon could see Valeria, Maia, and Cassandra finishing their own outfits. All wore the same theme of white and blue dresses, solidifying the idea that they were united in purpose, though their specific dresses differed in the small details, ensuring that none of them were wearing the exact same thing.

In Valeria’s case, she mostly lacked the lightning bolts that the others had, and her sleeves were attached to her dress, covering her shoulders. Maia’s dress was similarly lacking in adornment, save for several small sapphires around the collar and sleeves. Cassandra, in contrast, had adorned herself in enough silver and sapphires to make up for both of their more modest tastes. She’d even used light magic to change her blond hair to the same shade of blue as she wore.

“I could dress better than a thousand Kings and I would still look worse than you would wearing a shapeless sack,” Leon said as he made sure all four of his ladies saw his roaming eyes.

“It’s not just silver lightning you have, Leon,” Cassandra responded. “It seems your tongue is silver, too. Rely on that a bit more and you’ll get through this with sanity intact.”

“Having my sanity intact is predicated on me having it in the first place. More than that, I just don’t want to go. Did you see how Morui leered at Elise?”

“If he tries anything,” Maia said aloud, “we kill him.”

“Maia!” Elise cried, scandalized. “You shouldn’t joke about these things!”

“What joke?” the nymph drily replied while icy mist gathered around her fingers.

Cassandra barked out a laugh. “I’m with her,” she said as she draped an arm around Maia’s shoulders. “If anyone touches our cute Eli, they die.” She stared pointedly at Leon for a moment before giving him a challenging look.

A challenging fire now lit within him, Leon, toothy grin upon his face, took Elise by the hips and pulled her to him. She playfully shrieked as Leon’s lips found her neck before leaning into his embrace.

Leon’s eyes found Cassandra’s, both gold and ruby glittering with mirth. They couldn’t go any further than that, however, as Valeria finished tying her silver hair into a loose braid and said, “It’s almost time.”

Elise moaned in frustration and slight panic as she extricated herself from Leon. She’d done her hair up into a loose bun that still left plenty of crimson locks to cascade about her face, and she hurriedly, though lightly, ran her fingers over her head, making sure every strand was exactly where she wanted it to be.

“All right,” she said as she then took Leon’s arm. “We’re all ready, we’re all looking great… now let’s see what qualifies as a gala for Morui!”

---

The gala could be heard halfway across Voidshore. Thunderous drums threatened to shake the entire demiplane apart, and both lights and lightning arced up into the sky, advertising for all the city to see exactly where and how the Storm Lords were partying. These advertisements drew the eye toward a sprawling palace far from Voidshore’s center, enmeshed in a less opulent district—though that didn’t mean much for such an obviously moneyed city—close to one of the city’s main docks. The palace was so close, in fact, that it had a personal dock of its own, one large enough to host Storm Herald herself, though it now lay empty.

Leon took his personal transport ark to the palace, large enough for a squad of half a dozen giants to accompany him and his family. The transport was even piloted by a human and a giant working in tandem thanks to cloud glass and thunder wood amber. All others save for Leon’s family and that small detachment of giant Tempest Knights were left to watch over the arks. While it could be seen as rude to leave such powerful subordinates behind, Leon was not taking any chances when a Basileus had already demanded his arks.

The transport cut through the luminous air that perpetually surrounded Voidshore to arrive above the palace. The only building that rose more than three stories was a tall dome eighty feet high at the apex. Around the dome were gardens of the most artificial sort—rows and rows of flowers of various colors, a perfectly manicured lawn, and the most depressing arrangement of trees that didn’t at all resemble the kind of naturalistic arrangements that Leon preferred. Within these gardens was a large marble arkpad, rectangular in shape with an enormous bronze pillar at each corner. Each pillar was covered with storm-related reliefs, while dark clouds surrounded their cloud-shaped capitals. Golden lightning bolts occasionally shot into the sky from these pillars, making sure that everyone knew where to land upon their arrival.

As Leon’s transport arrived, a sixth-tier host waved them down and a host of other hosts sprang forward to welcome them to the palace. When the shining silver doors of the transport opened, however, the hosts reeled back as a twelve-foot-tall bronze giant emerged, its faceplate one of intimidating dispassion, its footsteps light as a feather despite the sheer weight of the bronze frame. More giants followed until all six flanked the doors and all the hosts looked ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

This story originates from NovelBin. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The main host, however, shouted, his voice wavering, “P-Personal golems a-are n-not allowed here!”

“These aren’t golems,” Leon said with a look that dared the host to disagree with him as he stepped out onto the arkpad. To the first giant who’d emerged, Leon said, “Thank you, Oros. Keep an eye on the transport, just in case.”

“NO POWERS WILL PULL ME AWAY, DIVINE ONE,” Oros rumbled in response, causing Leon to fight hard not to visibly cringe.

Elise, Maia, Valeria, Cassandra, and Anzu then followed Leon out in that order, and Anzu growled, “Shouldn’t we be introduced to our venue, or is that not how you operate here?”

The flustered sixth-tier host tried to respond, but a call from the gardens stole everyone’s attention.

“Leon!” The voice was familiar, and sure enough, a moment later, Archelaus came strolling out from the unnaturally straight and evenly-spaced trees, flanked by several dozen relatively high-tier guards. “When an alarm went off, I just knew it was you!”

“Know me well enough to make that call?” Leon quipped as he led his group off the arkpad to meet the Despot.

“Is he wrong, husband?” Elise asked as she naturally took Leon’s arm.

“You have a habit of standing out,” Cassandra added as she took Leon’s other arm.

With a laugh, Archelaus waved away the guards who had been staring warily at the giants, and said, “Your ark can feel free to take off again; we wouldn’t want to block the pad for other late-comers, do we?”

“We’re not that late, are we?” Leon asked as Anzu glanced over his shoulder and silently passed on instructions to the giants and the transport pilot.

“Only fashionably so,” Archelaus said as the giants slowly piled back into the transport—to the relief of the hosts—and took off again to hover around the dome, where a dozen other transports could be seen circling.

Archelaus then took them into the dome, whereupon Leon realized that the thunderous drums were also accompanied by energetic strings, bassy horns, and deep chanting from a chorus of thick-chested men. The performers were to the right and left of the enormous bronze doors, which had been flung open for the gala. The floor was black marble streaked with gold in lightning-like patterns, while monolithic pillars suggested a division between the center of the round hall and the edges, where several tables loaded with food both familiar and utterly alien could be found. The black ceiling of the dome had millions of spiraling star-like runes moving slowly around, much like the control rooms for many Thunderbird facilities Leon had been in, while in the center of the dome was an oculus through which the black Void could be glimpsed. Finally, the walls featured many enormous windows rising from the floor almost to the base of the dome itself, though they could only be seen through from within, not without.

“Interesting music choice,” Elise said, easily heard despite the loud music thanks to the high tier of everyone present. As sumptuous as the hall was, she, and the rest of Leon’s party, didn’t gawk. “I would’ve thought something lighter would’ve been more appropriate.”

“We are in Anax Indresis’ palace,” Archelaus said. “He has always preferred more primal sounds.”

“Is he here?” Valeria asked.

“He has already moved on to Belicenion,” Archelaus said with a hint of dejection. “A shame; he was always entertaining in a party despite his… eccentricities.”

“Then Morui is still our host?” Elise inquired. At the mention of the Basileus’ name, Leon’s eyes swiveled around the room.

He mostly saw the gala’s guests divided into recognizable classes: Morui was quietly chatting with a woman Leon assumed was another thirteenth-tier given the opacity of her aura, while Nuertis, Gwarim, and Illum were rubbing shoulders with twenty other Despots, and more than five dozen Strategoi were mingling on the dance floor, rather blatantly not dancing. Thankfully for Anzu, there were several hundred pre-Apotheosis mages of varying tiers, though none weaker than the seventh, chatting around the room, though mostly leaving their Lords alone.

“Yes,” Archelaus confirmed, “Morui has organized this gathering. His Lord is Anax Indresis, and so was given both the right and the responsibility to watch out for the other Storm Lords who find their way to Voidshore on their way to the Games. In the absence of any Anakes, he will guide our group at least as far as Khosrow’s Fane—assuming we want to travel as a group.”

“So far, I haven’t been given reason not to,” Leon replied softly enough that no mortal would’ve heard him in the chanting and drum-filled hall.

As soon as he said that, Morui noticed their arrival, his eyes lingering concerningly long on Elise. He whispered a few words to the Basilissa, who looked more interested in Leon than any of his other companions, and both strode toward them. Everyone in their way, both Strategoi and pre-Apotheosis mages, hurried to get out of the way.

“So good of you to join us, Despot Leon,” Morui smoothly intoned. Dressed in long golden robes whose fine fibers occasionally sparked with lightning, he cut an impressive enough figure, but it was his companion that Leon found more captivating.

She had a darker complexion and long curly brown hair. Golden rings were woven through her voluminous locks, while her low-cut golden dress revealed a figure comparable to any of Leon’s ladies. She wore enough gold to rival Cassandra when she was in an ostentatious mood, while her dark eyes were narrowed slightly by a sultry smile.

“We wouldn’t miss this,” Leon replied even as he felt the weight of Morui’s companion’s glimmering gaze. “A chance to make friends with my fellow Storm Lords ought never to be wasted.”

“A fine sentiment,” the woman stated, her voice low and seductive and coming with a noticeable if unfamiliar accent. “I wish more Lords shared it. You are Leon Raime, then? The famous warriors who turned back an invasion of Ocean Lords with only five thousand warriors and the strength of your arms?”

“I had twenty thousand warriors and many arks,” Leon immediately corrected. “And too few of both saw the other side, I’m sorry to say.”

“I’ve never met anyone more barbarous than those that choose to dwell in the abyssal deep,” she said, and Leon felt more than heard an amused snort from Maia.

“Perhaps introductions are in order?” Archelaus leadingly said.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “Morui, please introduce me.”

“Of course,” the Basileus responded, not at all put out at being ordered around like a servant. “Despot Leon, this is Basilissa Damini. Basilissa Damini, Despot Leon Raime.”

“A pleasure,” Damini immediately responded as she held out a hand to be kissed, which Leon pointedly clasped instead.

“Indeed,” Leon said as instead of getting upset, her amused grin only grew wider almost in proportion with how tightly Elise clung to his arm.

“You two have much in common,” Morui said, pausing to blatantly wait for them to ask what that might be.

Instead, Leon asked, “Neither of us enjoys having our spouses ignored?”

Morui almost choked while Damini giggled and Archelaus, his own smile not wavering, took a step back.

“Truly!” Damini exclaimed. “Morui, where are your manners? Unless you believe Strategoi are beneath our notice…?”

Her question was loud, and many eyes turned in their direction. Morui remained outwardly cool, though Leon could feel his vast aura starting to roil.

“I would,” the Basileus said in a voice strained through a tight smile, “but I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of a formal introduction with them, myself…”

“I blame you for that,” Damini playfully said.

The temperature in the domed hall dropped noticeably as Morui growled, “Why?”

“When it comes to matters of etiquette between men and women, dear friend,” Damini replied, “I believe that the man is always to blame.”

“A dangerous assumption,” Morui grumbled. “Just as it is the job of those higher in Khosrow’s Law to protect the lower Lords, it is the job of the lower Lords to introduce themselves first.”

In a clear recital, Damini said, “‘There are Lords higher than any other; only those of whom more is expected.’”

For a moment, no words were said between the clearly upset Morui and the still-smiling Damini. Much of the rest of the hall had gone silent, too, and Leon had to admire the sheer professionalism that kept the musicians and chanters going when even post-Apotheosis mages were stopping to stare and listen to this exchange.

“Though long dead, the Great Lord shames me,” Morui said.

“Do you contest the reason?” Damini asked.

“No,” Morui replied. He cast a swift glare at Leon and said, “I have business with Gwarim. Excuse me.” With that said, he left the strode away, cutting through the crowds of silently watching Lords and their retainers to join Gwarim and the other Despots.

Leon himself had frozen, his magic senses trained on both Basileis, his muscles and magic tensed in anticipation of an attack that had, for a moment, seemed almost inevitable. Even as Morui walked away, Damini decided to ensure that he couldn’t relax with one last barb.

“A desperate flight. I can almost see the tucked tail between his legs.”

She spoke more than loudly enough for her fellow thirteenth-tier mage to hear, but Morui didn’t miss a step.

“Is that necessary?” Leon asked, unable to hold his tongue.

“Nothing in life is ‘necessary’,” Damini responded. “The only thing I’ve found ‘necessary’ is whatever brings me joy.”

“And that brought you joy?” Valeria coldly inquired.

“Very much yes,” Damini shamelessly answered. “And quite a bit of it. Now, you were going to be introduced? Archelaus, dear, why don’t you do the honors now that our fair Morui has fled the scene?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Archelaus complied, while Leon took the time to steel himself for a battle of words, for though he’d known this woman for all of five minutes, he already believed that no exchange with her could be anything but a battle…