The Storm King

Lightning raged around Leon as the storm reached its peak, his power the only thing keeping it from striking his crucible filled with metal. He had his extracted blood ready, but this wasn’t quite the time for that, yet.

Instead, he pushed the crucible he was telekinetically holding up away from him, then conjured several long sheets of silver, upon which he’d inscribed several enchantments according to the Thunderbird’s guidance. As soon as his power shot from his body and into these silver sheets, the hundreds of runes laid upon them began glowing in various colors according to their elemental runes, the three most prominent being gold for lightning runes, green for wind, and blue for water. With these spells in place, hovering in a circle all equidistant from the crucible, the storm began to form a tight cyclone around the formation, and Leon knew that he was finally ready.

He stopped holding back the storm’s lightning from the crucible, and almost immediately, a bright golden bolt struck it with such force that Leon knew if he hadn’t enchanted the thing to be nearly indestructible from lightning strikes, it would’ve shattered. Instead, all the power and heat of the bolt transferred into the crucible and the various metals within almost immediately liquified.

The enchantments on the crucible attracted lightning—the iron within it helping in that respect, also—and more bolts fell upon it, filling the crucible with their heat and power. Leon, being a ninth-tier lightning mage, was effectively immune to natural lightning and thunder, so he had no trouble approaching and looking into the crucible.

After a few dozen strikes, the metal within had been rendered into molten slag, and Leon began pouring his mana into the crucible, his magic-infused blood glowing like a bright red lamp in the darkness of the storm.

As soon as his blood hit the molten steel in the crucible, a torrent of silver-blue lightning erupted from it, and Leon swore in frustration. He poured more of his power into the crucible just as he poured more of his blood into the steel. More of his power remained trapped within the metal, but he could feel the metal straining to contain it. The enchantments upon the crucible weren’t holding as well as he would’ve liked, either, as he could sense his magic power leaking out of them in a few places.

And then he sensed another leak, and then another. And then, even as lightning raged around him and thunder rolled across the sea beneath him, he heard the crucible crack. He barely had time to raise his eyebrows in surprise and panic before the crucible was struck by one more lightning bolt and split in half, the steel within it immediately spilling out into the storm, where it flash-cooled in the storm into a rain of steel pellets.

Leon hovered there in the air, dumbstruck at just how quickly he’d failed. He had put quite a few resources into the creation of that crucible, and he’d been in such a hurry that he hadn’t even made a spare. This was his one chance—during this storm, anyway—and it hadn’t worked. He could only stare in dejection at his work vanishing into the waves far below.

He recovered quickly, though. As disappointing as this failure was, it was hardly unexpected. Adamant was a material prized even in the Nexus, and a ninth-tier mage failing in their attempt to make some was more likely than success.

But he was still disappointed, for all that he wasn’t crushed. He retrieved his silver sheets and stared out into the storm for a few more minutes, only leaving once the storm’s peak had passed. Though his blood sang with the wind, rain, and lightning, he quickly transformed into his Thunderbird form, pulled out his avian invisibility ring, and, unseen, made for home.

[A good first try,] the Thunderbird said encouragingly. [You’ll do better next time.]

[Thanks,] Leon replied, even though with his mood, the words felt just a little condescending.

This was one failure, but there would be other attempts, and he would use what he learned here to prepare for the next time.

---

“What was the problem?” Nestor asked as Leon collapsed on a chair in his workshop.

“The crucible broke,” Leon stated. “My best enchantments, and it still broke.”

Nestor grunted in acknowledgment, sounding about as far from surprised as he could.

“Did you know this was going to happen, Nestor?” Leon asked.

Nestor shrugged. “I suspected. That work, while passable for an apprentice, had a few flaws in it.” He turned away slightly and softly added as if speaking only to himself, “I wouldn’t have used those enchantments myself, but to each their own, I suppose. So long as it works, right?”

Leon sat up a bit, his patience mildly frayed at his failure. “Pray tell me, dead man, if you’re so wise and knowledgeable about the creation of Adamant, how would you have enchanted the crucible? I would remind you that our Ancestor herself aided me in creating that enchantment scheme.”

“I can tell that our Honored Ancestor didn’t have a direct hand in creating that thing,” Nestor dismissively stated, “for if she had, it would’ve been much more effective. However, I would contest that the entire underlying technique you used was flawed for one big reason—and many small. Can you guess?”

Leon glared at the man for a moment before turning his mind back to the problem at hand. He’d had a few hours to think on the failure by now, and he had a few ideas on how to improve, but with Nestor’s push, one of his more harebrained ideas came to the fore.

“I used modern runes,” Leon said. “You’re suggesting I attempt the creation of Adamant with ancient runes?”

“Yes,” Nestor confirmed with a nod of his featureless metal head.

“Ancient runes are entirely unique for their purpose, they number as many as the ideas that humanity can express, and more. I don’t doubt that there’s an ancient rune to solve specifically my problem, doing exactly what I need it to do, but such a specific rune would be horrifically complex, and more importantly: I don’t know it. Do you happen to know of an ancient rune or two that can help with the creation of Adamant?”

“I don’t know any with such great specificity that you’d be able to create Adamant with ease, but there are a few runes that can help.”

Nestor began writing on a few sheets of spell paper, and Leon couldn’t help but watch. Nestor was a master of enchanting that so eclipsed him in skill that on the few occasions Leon was able to see him work only with paper and ink, he was always mesmerized. Nestor worked with the speed and elegance of a hand so practiced that if he were to brag that he could write out his runes in his sleep, Leon would believe him.

A few minutes later, Nestor had finished drawing out a couple ancient runes, both more complex than any single rune Leon had ever drawn.

“There,” Nestor said. “These ought to help. This one,” he began as he drew Leon’s attention to the first of the two he’d drawn, “will make a container nearly indestructible to all forces. As it’s an ancient rune, how indestructible the container will be will entirely depend on your will at the time of inscription. The more will you use, the more focused you are on your intended purpose, and the more powerful the rune will be.”

He then drew Leon’s attention to the other rune. “And this one is designed to keep magic power contained within something. Again, the usual caveats of ancient runes apply: they’re focus and willpower dependent. These two runes acting in concert are what I typically use to enchant magical batteries, ensuring greater efficiency and safety for my golems’ power sources.”

“Those sound… incredibly useful,” Leon whispered as he stared at the ancient runes, wondering what their simpler and more complex versions could do—as was the wont of ancient runes, there would have to be runes that just made anything indestructible, and more specific things indestructible. The more specific an ancient rune was, the easier it was for the mage to focus on its intended purpose, and the more powerful the rune was.

“Keep those caveats in mind, Leon,” Nestor reminded him. “Just because there’s an ‘indestructible’ ancient rune doesn’t mean that it does what it claims. Anything can be destroyed, especially if going up against other ancient runes. Inscribe this upon a crucible and it will be much harder to destroy than I think you can make it with a modern enchantment scheme, but that doesn’t mean the crucible will actually be indestructible.”

“Yes, yes,” Leon said with a tired head nod. “Thanks, Nestor. These will come in handy.”

“Good. Just be ready for the next time you need it.”

Leon nodded. He had to wait for natural storms to try his hand at creating Adamant, and storms of sufficient wrath for his purposes were rare, even in the rough Central Sea. But that just meant that he had some time to prepare before he tried again.

---

Leon’s failure to create true Adamant on his first try had him feeling just a little down for the next few days, but his mood was soon brightened when Valentina brought him another report on blood magic and how it related to his transformation enchantment. With the team he’d assembled for the project, he’d expected rapid progress, but the rapidity with which Valentina moved took even him by surprise.

Upon receiving the report, Leon ravenously read through all sixty pages, and then read through it a few more times to absorb all that it had to say. Unlike the last report when Valentina’s team had only parsed through the section of the transformation enchantment that he’d shared with them, this time, there was actually some additional theory work done.

By their accounts, their work had concluded that the transformation enchantment had some inefficiencies when targeting an individual’s bloodline. Though they didn’t know the reason why, Leon having never given them the complete enchantment, the way that that particular section worked was to brute force an interaction with an individual’s bloodline, forcing power to behave in certain ways rather than stimulating it to act in a desired fashion.

Leon had to take it entirely on faith that they knew what they were talking about, blood magic being far outside of his specialty. But he couldn’t help but salivate at the team’s conclusion: if they made some changes, then the way that Leon’s transformation enchantment worked could be improved, making his Thunderbird form potentially stronger.

Unfortunately for them, without many test subjects that they could test their theories on, they weren’t going to move beyond theory—at least, as far as they would know. They were in the Empires, and with a correlation between the Sky Devils and Inherited Bloodlines, there weren’t many people in Imperial Territory with the power of an Ascended Beast—not to mention most beasts were hunted down before growing strong enough to assume human form so they couldn’t threaten human society, and those in captivity were usually never raised to that point by their beastmasters to keep them relatively pliant and docile.

Leon couldn’t help but see the Sky Devils in that, too, as he’d noted that they used war beasts on a significantly more frequent basis.

Regardless, he was the only person around who could possibly put what his team had theorized into practice, and while he was eager to try, he was more than a little apprehensive about messing around with his transformation enchantment.

Still, he ventured down into the long tunnel in his soul realm, the report in hand. He stayed down there for a couple hours alone, tracing and tracking lines of magic and working out a plan for exactly what he’d need to do if he ever decided to do it.

It was here that the Thunderbird found him, lost in thought.

“What are you doing, Leon?” she asked as she floated down to join him, having assumed human form.

Leon didn’t answer verbally but handed her the report. He didn’t expect her to read the entire thing immediately but was pleasantly surprised when she began flipping through the pages, humming in appreciation.

It only took her about twenty minutes to work her way through it one time, but that seemed enough as she looked up at him, a rather manic look in her eyes.

“Leon,” she breathed, “I think there’s something to this.”

“What kind of ‘something’?” he asked.

“That kind that’ll make you stronger,” she responded. “Or, something that’ll change you, anyway. Would you like to try?”

“Is this something that would make some kind of permanent change to me?” Leon asked. “I’ll admit that I’m not too thrilled at the idea of messing around with this enchantment. I don’t want to activate it and find myself turned inside out…”

“Leon, the fact that you used the thing at all carried similar risk. Now, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Leon honestly answered, not hesitating for a second.

“This has potential, and even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll be fine, and I’ll be able to revert this enchantment to its original state. Would you like to try?”

Leon stared at her for a long moment, not reading any deceit in her, but narrowing his eyes anyway. “I trust you,” he said. “I trust you.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?” she asked.

Leon nodded.

“Good! Then let’s get started!”

Following the Thunderbird’s directions, Leon made the necessary adjustments to the enchantment, the entire process taking nearly an hour. Once it was done, the enchantment as a whole had hardly changed, but the specific section about how it interacted with Leon’s bloodline to produce its effect had.

It was a precise enchantment, targeting only Leon’s Thunderbird bloodline and excluding the power of the Great Black Dragon, but since the Thunderbird herself was confident that everything was fine, Leon forced himself to remain calm even as his heart began to race.

Once the enchantment had been adjusted, Leon left his remaining duties in Talal’s capable hands and went home a little early, a large part of him eager to try this out despite his apprehension.

When he got home, he immediately made for the most private wing of his home. There were a few large meditation rooms that would suit his purpose nicely, allowing him to transform in total isolation, as far from prying eyes as he could get without leaving Occulara entirely.

There, he stripped down and, after a few more encouraging words from the Thunderbird, shut his eyes, clenched his teeth, and activate his transformation enchantment.

What followed was nothing unusual at all. His body shifted and bent, expanded and grew, sprouted feathers and scales along his legs as they turned into talons. His mouth pushed forward and merged with his nose, both hardening into a beak. His eyesight grew immeasurably sharper even as his sense of smell declined. Once it was all done, he hardly felt any different from when he usually transformed.

However, the moment he projected his magic senses and got a better look at himself, it was made immediately clear that something had, in fact, changed: he looked completely different.

He wasn’t any larger than he’d have been if he’d transformed that morning, but his feathers had mostly changed color. Along with that, his tail feathers seemed a little longer, while a large feathered crest had sprouted from his forehead, brushed back and falling down his back like a long ponytail.

Before, he’d been a near-copy of the Thunderbird, sharing her warm brown primary feather color, sparkling with flecks of gold throughout. Now, however, his feathers had changed to a cloudy silver with undercurrents of pale blue streaked through his wings. His crest, likewise, was a deep blue, the same color as the sky just before sunrise. His feathers darkened as they neared his tail, his tail feathers now dark as storm clouds and his butt only a little lighter. His tail was flecked with silver that shone like stars.

‘What the hells?’ he thought to himself, his beak preventing him from vocalizing aloud.

[Look at you, Leon,] the Thunderbird breathed. [Quite the handsome boy, if I do say so myself.]

[What is this?] Leon asked her. [Why… what is this?]

[Heh. Having a hard time putting it into words? Well, it seems like the transformation enchantment had originally been designed to turn one into a copy of their ancestor. You essentially became me. But now, you’ve assumed a form more akin to a male of my species, rather than simply copying me. Seems far more natural, I’d say.]

[Wait, so all this time, I’ve been running around in a female form?]

[Flying around, and yes. Now you’re looking more like the males of the species I was when yet lived.]

Leon blinked a few times, but after a moment, disregarded the thought as relatively unimportant.

[Is there… anything else that might’ve changed about this other than the color of my feathers?]

[This seems like a more natural transformation. To paraphrase your team’s words, it’s no longer forcing your blood to work with it, but instead convincing it to do what you want. It’s a more natural way to activate your transformation, one that’s more in harmony with your body.]

[I’ll… I’ll just assume you’re right. Please don’t be fucking with me.]

[You’re the one standing there, admiring yourself like a narcissist. It should be obvious to you that the transformation is now different. Why don’t you try and call upon your power?]

Leon complied, and to his surprise, his power was more responsive. He wasn’t going to tear his villa apart to test it, but he could already tell that his power was, not greater, but at least more in control. It was like he’d had ropes tied around his wings and he’d only noticed now that they’d been taken off.

[I think… This is hard to quantify, but I’m feeling better. Fifteen percent? Eh, I hate odd numbers. Twenty percent seems about right, I’d say I’m about twenty percent stronger now.]

[Great precision there, Leon. By the way, Leon, there’s something else here, too…]

[Oh?] Leon asked. [Something better than this new change?]

[Very much so. Much more promising for your future, I think.]

[Well you have my attention, Ancestor, what is it?]

[This research… I believe I can use it to create a more generic transformation enchantment. Something that would be weaker than what you’re now using, but one that can work for anyone else with an Inherited Bloodline.]

If Leon’s beak were capable of it, he’d have smiled. He’d have smiled so widely that his jaw would’ve been in danger of falling off. While the Jaguar’s reaction had been concerning, Leon was more than confident that he could win over many in the Ten Tribes with the promise of such power.

Until now, it had only been a promise. Now, if the Thunderbird was correct, Leon might be able to make it a reality.

However, a moment later, that elation was dampened as another thought rose in his mind.

‘If I no longer look like the Thunderbird, will that change how the Ten Tribes see me? Will I have to choose between the more powerful transformation or the one that looks more like my Ancestor?’