Chương 1279: 1309 - Home That Was and Could've Been

Time was always something that immortals had in abundance. Taking days or weeks to do something monotonous was more acceptable for one who had unlimited time than for one who didn't. Mourning, however, wasn't monotonous. It was grim and draining, made all the more so for Leon since he was surrounded by treasured memories of his childhood. Still, Serana needed time with Artorias' Heartwood tree, and Leon was more than willing to give her all the time she wanted.

That resolve didn't abate even as a day turned to a week, and then more. Leon found himself easily contented, especially in those first few days. He was alone and in his natural element. Civilization was distant; his portable villa remained in his soul realm rather than deployed in the physical world, and he had silkgrass clothing and a bow. He needed nothing more. For the first day, Leon wandered the Forest of Black and White. He had no set destination in mind, choosing to simply wander wherever his feet took him.

He had spent the first sixteen years of his life in the wide vale, and two and a half centuries outside of it. Yet, he found himself quickly walking like he used to, listening to the forest as his father had taught him, looking around for any prey that he could hunt and bring back to a compound that no longer existed. When the sun started to fall, he had gotten so into that mindset that adrenaline spiked at the thought of ice wraiths and banshees roaming the forest.

No such thing happened, though, the forest remaining blissfully wraith and banshee free. Still, he found himself jumping at shadows as he made his way back to his father's Heartwood tree. When he arrived, he found his mother curled up in the tree's roots, her hands resting on the root that she was using as a pillow. He almost panicked when he realized that she was asleep, but he forced himself to relax after quietly reminding himself that she was twelfth-tier and in no danger here.

That, however, didn't stop him from taking a blanket from his soul realm and covering her with it. The next few days proceeded in a similar manner. Leon walked amidst the trees, taking a few seeds as he passed, first only as mementos, then more deliberately, intending to grow a few groves of these trees when he returned to Artorion. As he walked, more specifics of his childhood returned to him.

Old wildlife paths that he and his father had often staked out when hunting, many of which were now overgrown, but a few still existed. He found the clearing where he had ambushed the snow lion that was used to awaken his bloodline and sat there for hours, thinking about how nervous and excited his father had been over the course of the hunt. He almost choked up as he recalled the concern Artorias had shown for the injuries Leon had sustained during that hunt.

The mountain he'd awakened his blood upon loomed over much of the western half of the vale, but for the moment, Leon refrained from visiting. Instead, he kept wandering in the west, gradually moving further north as the days passed. He returned to Artorias' Heartwood tree every night, but rarely did he or Serana speak, such was her grief. He never stayed long, either, remaining just long enough so that if she had something to say, she could.

By the time the first week had passed, Leon had returned to all of his and his father's old haunts. He'd followed the rivers that had once been a home to river nymphs. He spent most of a day in the Heartwood grove in the northwest. He spent another day perched on the edge of the Divine Scar, debating with himself whether or not he should explore the labyrinthine caverns beneath the vale. Though he remained above ground, he soon further reverted to old ways.

On the night of the eighth day, he returned to his father's Heartwood tree with a red-chested stag draped over his shoulder. The beast was enormous, easily weighing five times what he did, if not more, with a dark coat speckled with red. The beast had been dressed on the spot where he'd brought it down, but once back under the boughs of his father's tree, Leon skinned it and stored it and its meat and huge antlers. His mother still hadn't finished grieving, but she was looking better.

A few more days, he'd happily spend in the vale. For the next two days, he lightly hunted, but mostly kept to himself. He only brought down one black-iron bear and one more red-chested deer, though he had the opportunity to bring down more. He didn't need to, however, and sated himself with these prizes—though, if he saw a good snow lion with a shining coat and a thick mane, he knew that he might find his appetite for hunting again.

By the evening of the twelfth day, Leon found himself making his way to the mountain that he'd awakened his blood on. It was tall and steep, easily imposing despite being quite a bit shorter than the mountains that surrounded the vale. Leon walked there without the use of magic, approaching and then ascending the slopes slowly, reverently.

When he reached the top, he found it still blackened from his awakening, the flat platform still cracked and scarred in lightning patterns, and the place where he had sat during it easily visible by virtue of being the blackest and most lightning-scarred points on the mountain. There was power in the air here, he realized. The air was charged, a hint of ozone finding his nose while his skin crawled with static.

Though the weather had been almost frustratingly clear throughout his visit, he didn't doubt that the mountain saw more lightning strikes than it had before he'd undergone that ceremony. He hadn't realized it at the time, but that awakening was one of the defining moments of his life. Before then, he'd been a mere first-tier mage, having stagnated at that level for years with his dormant blood weighing down his progress.

'Wonder how far I'd have gotten if Father hadn't waited on awakening my blood…' Leon's silent words were no accusation, and he knew that he wouldn't have been strong enough to save Artorias in any real way, but he still couldn't help but ask, 'What if?' He'd done so long ago already, but he still took out a sheet of paper and began scrawling the enchantment and corresponding ceremony that Artorias had walked him through.

It was markedly different from what the Ten Tribes used, but there were a few key similarities that he could detect in the underlying principles. Blood awakened in response to magical stress, which largely meant ingesting foreign magic in the form of mana—blood infused with magic. How to stimulate that process varied, but the ultimate principle behind all the awakening ceremonies that Leon knew was the same.

Serana found him there, sitting on the edge of the platform with the sharp slopes of the mountain below him, wondering if his future children—assuming he'd ever figure out how to have any—would do what he'd done, or if they would participate in the same awakening ceremony that the Ten Tribes did.

"What has you looking so…" Serana said as she joined him on the edge of the platform, "… serious?"

"Do I look serious?" Leon asked, an eyebrow rising as he gave her a look loaded with amusement.

"It looked that way just a moment ago." Serana smiled, though the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. Though tempted to brush off her question with an attempt at humor, Leon nonetheless said with a tone strengthened by seriousness, "Thinking about the future. Of the Thunderbird Clan. About whether or not to awaken the blood of any children I might have with all of the children from the Tribes, or if that should be a private affair."

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Serana's answer was as quick as it was biting.

"Keep it private. Why should those of our blood awaken surrounded by others? Others who aren't family?"

"To increase camaraderie," Leon smoothly justified.

"To let my vassals see their Princes and Princesses—should I be blessed with both—doing what they do. It becomes a shared experience, one that can be used to shore up legitimacy and make internal alliances." With an audible scoff, Serana said, "My grandchildren will not be common! They shouldn't be treated like they are! Bloodline awakenings should be special, intimate, private, surrounded only by close family. This… spectacle that you've told me about that your Ten Tribes perform is…

It doesn't entice me, at least. All it sounds like it does is give those who should be vassals a big head regarding their place under their rightful King!" Leon stared over the green and pale blue leaves of the forest, mulling her words over.

"There's some merit there, I can see that… It's one way to make everyone know that my bloodline is superior…"

"Which it is," Serana insisted.

"Self-evident," Leon remarked, taking her a bit off-guard.

"Potentially incendiary actions might do more to drive a wedge between my children and my people than to make it clear who is King and who is vassal. Why take those potentially incendiary actions if my power is self-evidently greater?" For a moment, Leon thought he'd stumped his mother as she went quiet. But then, in a hushed whisper, sounding almost as if she were afraid of the words she gave voice to, she said, "And if it's not self-evident?"

Leon said nothing, but he turned to face her again, a questioning look writ large across his face. Serana hurried to clarify, "Blood is blood. Power is power. What we inherit is one thing, and the power we command is something else. Why should a twelfth-tier mage follow an eleventh-tier mage? Because the twelfth-tier mage has been incentivized to do so. Practical benefits can do that. Pay them, feed them, house them, compensate them for their loyalty, and if the amount satisfies, then you have their loyalty.

But there are softer factors that shouldn't be overlooked."

"The show of power can lead to power," Leon stated quietly.

"Yes," Serana affirmed.

"You dress casually in private, but more ornately in public. That's because you're a King. People must know that you're better just by looking at you. That is a power all on its own, without the use of any magic. Separate ceremonies for us and them is just one way we make it known that we are better, and that they should fall in line." Leon stroked his chin in thought.

"Iron-Striker followed me when he was a tier stronger. He did so because he was convinced to follow me by virtue of my blood. The Ten Tribes revere the Thunderbird, and that reverence transferred to me."

"As well it should," Serana stated definitively, her arms folding across her chest as she nodded, confirming that that was how the world ought to be. In contrast, Leon hunched over slightly, his face furrowed with doubt.

"Such a small concern…" he whispered, his voice softer than the wind that now caressed their cheeks.

"When you are a King," Serana said, her tone hard and unyielding, "no concern is 'small'."

"That…" Leon stated as the wind started to pick up and the sky darkened with clouds promising rain, "… is not what I've found in my time enthroned. I'll think on this longer. Thank you for your perspective, Mother." Serana laid a hand on his shoulder, gentle but firm.

"I'll always be here," she promised.

"Whatever you need, my perfect boy. Always."

The return to the Bull Kingdom was heralded with a mighty storm; every flash of lightning washed out all color from the world, while every peal of thunder shook the earth. No finer herald had ever been, though Leon did find it just a little annoying as he made his way through Teira to his destination. Argent Palace was still a ruin, the site undeveloped and starting to get overgrown. The men assigned to maintain what was left were clearly not performing their jobs well, but Leon didn't care.

Argent Palace meant nothing to him, and given her sour expression as they passed over it, it meant even less to Serana. They didn't stop at the ruins of the palace, though as they flew over it, Serana pointed to one of the private wings further back.

"Your grandfather went to that courtyard with a hundred men intent on throwing me out of his house. It wasn't the first time he tried to force me and your father apart. Your father armed himself with the very blade that your grandfather had given him, intent on defending me, not knowing just how capable I was even back then. I could've stamped them all out blindfolded. Instead, I followed my husband as he chose exile over leaving me. We were on the road south before the week was out."

Her tone turned wistful, even fond, despite speaking of exile and disownment.

"Why?" Leon asked as he slowed, his real destination—one of the tombs of House Raime—not far ahead. But he wanted to know, and a thousand feet above Teira was as fine a place as any to ask, even as wind howled around them and rain fell in great sheets. Despite this, both of them remained dry and unbattered, the storm far too weak to truly reach them.

"You'd have to ask him what about me he found so offensive," Serana bitterly stated.

"I rarely spoke with the man."

"That… is not what I meant. What I meant is… why did you not show him that you had a bloodline? That you were strong? You married Father, but shunned the rest of House Raime. My understanding is that Grandfather thought you weren't worthy, Father having met you while you were fighting in a private gladiator match. You could've easily proven him wrong. Why didn't you?" Haughtily, Serana scoffed, "What did I have to prove to him?

If he was too blind to see that I was stronger than him, that I was of noble bearing, that I was a dragon among men, then that was his problem. It would've worked out fine if Kamran hadn't attacked my Clan, forcing my recall." Her expression turned sweet.

"We would've raised you on this plane for a few decades. Then, I would've taken you both back home. Or maybe we would've gone sooner, though not before you were a little older than you were."

"You would've gone home so soon?" Leon asked, his tone both amused and skeptical.

"Given up your adventures?"

"By my Ancestor's fangs, no!" Serana declared.

"You were our miracle, Leon, and we were going to do right by you, but I wasn't intending to stop! A few decades spent raising you, and once you were a man, I would've continued! And I probably would've dragged Artorias along with me!" Her expression turned both fond and pained.

"He always was a little too comfortable serving the local Cow King and being the good and honorable warrior. We needed to be ourselves, answering only to ourselves, for a while. This would have been no great problem if you were with my family, or even accompanying us as we saw the universe together."

"I… wish you'd cleared that up with Grandfather." Leon cast his gaze down at the tomb, filled nearly to the brim with thousands of years of his Ancestors. Even then, it didn't hold nearly all of House Raime's bones, let alone those of older times.

"Even for us, time… we don't get time back. Father never saw Grandfather or Uncle Alexander again after he left this place." He turned his gaze on Serana and held it for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly with accusation.

"That was avoidable. You could've avoided it. On demonstration of power, and Argent Palace would've been home, at least for a while longer." Serana shifted uneasily under the weight of his stare.

"That… wouldn't have changed anything. We still would've been attacked. The men Kamran sent were too much for Art's family to handle."

"That's a retroactive justification. You don't know what could've happened."

"I know enough," Serana snapped. She looked furious for a moment, but when that moment was over, her fury bled away into the vortex of wind that the storm surrounded them with.

"Apologies. I… was offended. Kyros deserved nothing from me. So I thought. I regret what Artorias gave up for me." Leon frowned, but didn't press the matter. Instead, after a moment's silence, he descended to the tomb, Serana following just behind him. She remained quiet as he passed among the sarcophagi of his Ancestors, of the old Archdukes of the Great Plateau.

Thankfully, the luxurious tomb remained closed to visitors—not that Leon let that stop him from visiting his own family's resting place—so he and his mother had the place to themselves and could take all the time they wanted. There was a part of Leon that wanted to take all of these sarcophagi with him when he left Aeterna. It seemed fitting to inter them in a place more fitting of their lineage, more connected to the Thunderbird Clan. But… he supposed that was hardly honorable.

This had been their land, and these their people. They bore the power of the Thunderbird, and many of their hands had held the blade from the Thunderbird's own blood, but the Great Plateau was their land, and Aeterna their plane. Taking them from here seemed… in poor taste. In the end, Leon simply paid his quiet respects to those of House Raime who'd come before him. For ten thousand years, they were all that remained of the Thunderbird Clan. And now, he was the only one left.

It was a sobering thought, one that reminded Leon to get a proper start on his journals detailing his life. He was confident that he'd eventually get the matter of children sorted, and when he did, they deserved to know where House Raime had come from, and not just in how it related to the Thunderbird Clan. With a side-long look at Serana, he thought,'And all their other Ancestors. Mother's. And their mothers' families. Going to be quite the task…'