Chapter 1027 - Devilish Threat

When Leon opened his eyes in his soul realm, he found the Thunderbird and Xaphan both waiting by his throne.

“So,” he said as he rose, “Primal Devils. How bad is it that one is now loose on the universe?”

“Spectacularly,” Xaphan immediately answered. “The Primal Devils were always crueler than the Primal Gods.”

“They created demons; that’s all the proof anyone needs of their malicious intent toward the universe,” the Thunderbird added. “In my day, I only rarely had any interactions with the Primal Devils. They aren’t social creatures, and this is practically a distinction without much difference for those beneath them, I would argue that they are more indifferent than they are malicious. They spare no thoughts for those caught in their power; only what use they can extract from others.”

Leon scowled. “That’s not encouraging to hear. Planerend seemed to take a personal interest in me, focusing on me instead of eleven Grave Wardens showering him in deadly magics.”

“Never a good thing to attract the attention of something with such an over-the-top name like ‘Planerend’,” Xaphan quipped.

“Right,” Leon agreed. “Where’s the Primal Devil named ‘Helper of Puppies’ or ‘Protector of all the Cute and Cuddly Things’?”

“Dead,” the Thunderbird said without a shred of irony. “Primal Devils who weren’t strong and willing to employ violence were killed during the final war.”

“Any idea why Planerend avoided that fate?” Leon asked.

“Power,” the Thunderbird simply stated. She gave Leon a deadly serious look and added, “As I’ve told you many times: power is the key to everything, whether you agree with that or not. Become strong, seek power, and all else will fall into place.”

“Have you seen me slacking in my training?”

“No, but I repeat myself to keep you from becoming complacent in the first place.”

Leon lightly frowned but stated without any sarcasm, “Thanks. I suppose it’s better to be annoyed than to fall behind.”

“That’s the attitude that’ll take you to the Nexus, my boy.” The Thunderbird reached out and ruffled his hair a bit with a silent laugh.

“You’ll need that strength,” Xaphan added, “for when Planerend comes for a second round.”

“You think he’ll make some move against me?”

Xaphan averted his gaze for a moment in favor of staring out into the Mists of Chaos. He stood there thinking for a long moment before turning back to Leon, his orange-yellowish eyes burning with deadly severity. “Yes. You will never be completely safe so long as Planerend yet exists. He took an interest in you once, and that interest will not go away.”

“Honestly kind of makes me wonder why he ran away,” Leon said leadingly. “If he’s so powerful as to present such a danger, how was it that he was fought off in the first place?”

“Don’t play dumb, boy, it’s unbecoming,” Xaphan crackled.

Leon shrugged. “I have my suspicions for why it left—mostly having to do with the Grave Wardens—but I find it difficult to believe I did anything at all that might’ve compounded that threat. Even... if my suspicions are correct, it would still be unbelievable.”

“Yes,” the Thunderbird agreed. “But unbelievable though they are, belief will not change reality. So let’s state it clearly: you utilized the power of the Great Black Dragon. Not black fire, but that old lizard’s destruction power.”

Silence fell upon the three as they contemplated what that meant. The red light emitted from the Great Black Dragon’s third eye was deadly, able to shred matter with extreme ease. It was the ultimate form of destruction, and in the public histories of the seven Dragon Clans, none but the Great Black Dragon himself was ever able to use it.

At least, not publicly.

And yet, Leon recalled a strange power welling up from within him as the Primal Devil turned its gaze upon him, and it had apparently left him without eyes.

“So it was this power that destroyed my eyes?” Leon asked.

“Yes,” the Thunderbird confirmed.

“I’d have thought that power I used, no matter how instinctual, wouldn’t have affected me like that.”

“Power without control is a dangerous thing; especially to the mage wielding that power.”

“A common mistake to make,” Xaphan mused. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the leading cause of death for powerful mages was overestimating their abilities and getting in over their heads. Arrogance, power, and age are quite the combination.”

“Case in point...” Leon murmured barely audibly, though Xaphan was more than close enough to hear him.

Fortunately, the comment went unremarked upon.

“This power,” Leon continued with greater gravity, “was strong enough to fight off Planerend despite the vast distance between us. Or was it just a distraction that Planerend couldn’t get through in time with the Grave Wardens applying pressure?”

“Both, in all likelihood,” the Thunderbird answered.

“And you’ll want to see if you can use that power again,” Xaphan advised. “Planerend took an interest in you once; he’ll do so again.”

“You don’t think the Grave Wardens are going to hunt it down and return him to his box?”

“Fuck no, boy; these Grave Wardens have, so far, proven themselves to be highly incompetent. Planerend may not wind up being our problem to deal with in the end, but he will certainly be a problem that the Grave Wardens struggle to deal with without abandoning their other duties. And since he took an interest in you, for some unfathomable reason—I mean, you do host a Lord of Flame, but other than that, why would a Primal Devil spare you so much as a single glance? You’re not powerful or threatening or interesting enough for that.”

“Thanks, demon,” Leon said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Why would an army follow a weak King?” Xaphan asked.

“Bureaucracy?” Leon suggested. “Because they’re well-compensated?”

“Compensation does little to assuage the ambitions of powerful mages,” the Thunderbird cautioned. “It takes a certain amount of ambition for a mage to reach higher tiers. Those who reach those higher tiers you’ll be more inclined to place in positions of authority. But they’re also going to be the ones most disposed toward acting against you.”

Leon closed his eyes for a moment and thought over his passengers’ arguments. They weren’t wrong; he knew that. But... he also didn’t want to get into a long political and philosophical debate on the subject when, in the end, he’d just wind up agreeing with them that his position would only be strengthened if he grew stronger.

That much, at least, was not in doubt.

He said so aloud again, and then prepared himself to get some rest. It had been a long few months, and the rest he’d gotten in the wake of the escape from Tell Kirin was not nearly enough. So, with the events of that flight running through his mind, he returned to his throne and got ready to pass out. Even though he didn’t need sleep, sleep still sounded like just the thing he needed to properly rest his mind and pass some time before Ambrose would send him home.

The last thing he wondered before slipping into the land of dreams was what had happened to the ark that had gotten them off the plane...

---

Leon’s sleep was blissfully dream-free, though he didn’t get quite as much as he would’ve liked. He was awoken by a soft, though insistent, knock at his door. He rose from his bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and answered his door, finding Tir standing there looking apologetic.

“I hope I did not pull you from the embrace of Rethil, Bringer of Dreams,” the old monk said. “I only wished to inform you that Prince Ard’Nara, by the grace of the gods, has woken up.”

Leon’s eyes widened in surprise and relief; he’d wanted to speak with Nara before leaving, and he was happy he had the opportunity to do so. By his estimation, he’d been asleep for ten hours, so he still had many hours left until it was time to leave.

“Let’s go, then,” Leon said with a grin as he gestured to the hall behind Tir, and the old monk quietly escorted him back to the hospital hall.

When they entered, Leon found that Serena was gone, but Ard’Nara was propped up in his bed by what seemed to be dozens of pillows, his heterochromatic eyes only barely open. They did widen slightly when Leon and Tir walked in, though, showing that the Prince was at least aware of his surroundings.

Leon pulled up a chair to sit next to Nara and asked, “How are you doing?” Tir, on the other hand, bowed in their direction and then exited the hall, though after closing the door behind him, he merely stood next to it, clearly giving them some measure of privacy.

Nara groaned and said, his voice so weak that Leon had to strain to hear it, “Bad...”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Leon said. “I’d offer to try and help, but to be honest, I’m not sure what kind of help I could provide that hasn’t already been given.”

Nara summoned the energy to wave his hand dismissively before closing his eyes in concentration. Leon felt the Prince’s aura shift slightly as power raced through Nara’s body. After a moment, Nara opened his eyes, a bit more vim and vigor visible in the mismatched orbs.

“I’m... feeling better than I... was...” he gasped. “I’ll... recover...”

“Your determination does you great credit.”

“It had better,” Nara choked, “I don’t have many other virtues. Should’ve... shouldn’t have... jumped down there... Stupid...”

“You were thinking of your people,” Leon said consolingly. “As far as such mistakes go, I think this one is fairly reasonable. You’ll see your people again, you’ll get to go home.”

Nara closed his eyes and leaned back on his pillows. “That... sounds nice,” he whispered.

“I don’t envy the task you face: rebuilding a Kingdom. But if you keep your people in mind, you’ll do just fine.” Leon’s previous conversation flashed through his mind, and he gave the Prince a shallow smile. “Keep training. Ensure a disaster like this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’ll be cold and dead before I allow that...” Nara declared with a surprising amount of strength. His aura was continuing to stabilize, too, and Leon figured that if he continued like this, he might even be on his feet before Leon’s time to leave came.

“Speaking of rebuilding,” Leon said, “will there be any place for Tir’Anu in your Kingdom?”

An ugly snarl passed over Nara’s face, though it was gone almost as soon as it appeared, replaced by a look of subtle distaste.

“All who wish to help rebuild shall be welcomed,” he said. “Some... some though... will be watched. Exiles can be lifted, but forgiveness... trust... will be hard to come by. Tir’Anu will never have the influence over the Kingdom of the Blue Sky that he once did. But to turn down help... the gods would turn their backs upon me if I did this without reason.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Leon quietly said. “Personally, I think he’s an honorable man who deeply regrets the mistakes of the past. I think he’ll prove to be an asset for you going forward.”

“He’ll be useful. He won’t ever be allowed back into the halls of power.” Nara’s eyes closed and while his aura didn’t drop in intensity, Leon could sense that Nara’s attempts to aid his own recovery were starting to falter.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he said, “but don’t push yourself too hard. We’ll talk at least once more before I return to Aeterna, so get a bit more rest.” He smiled and stood up, intending to return to his bed and get at least a few more hours of shuteye.

Before he could do so, however, Nara grabbed his hand. His grip was fairly weak and Leon could’ve broken out of it easily, but he allowed the Prince to arrest his departure. “Thank you, Leon Raime,” Ard’Nara whispered.

Leon turned back and nodded to the Prince. “I’ll accept your thanks, though I think it’s better reserved for those who gave more than I did. I only wish that we’d succeeded in our objective and not had a Primal Devil wandering the universe, now...”

Nara paled and his grip strengthened. “What?” he croaked. “It... escaped?!”

“Ah, Tir’Anu hasn’t filled you in, then...?”

Nara shook his head. “By the gods, tell me! What... have I missed?!”

Leon gave him a pained grin before settling back into his seat. If Nara wanted to hear this instead of resting, Leon supposed he could oblige.

He launched into his second long explanation of the day, though he at least only had to start at the point of Nara jumping down the lift shaft leading to the passages beneath Tell Kirin and their subsequent separation. The rest, he figured, shouldn’t take too long.