Several years ago, Tempest challenged the pit. Lightning crashed, sending bolts soaring into the night sky. As Galvin laid the finishing blow on Mauler, Mahler dropped through the floor, unconscious. Am I the last? Am I your next leader? Another fight, another challenger that Galvin has left at his feet. This was the Stormborn tradition. A terribly unstructured tradition. However, whenever the collective clan became restless, uneasy, and fed up with their current leadership, usually consisting of one to two people, the clan would gather at the Pit. Stormborn competed one on one in a nearly no holds barred fight. And the last man standing would become the next leader of the Stormborn. Galvin happened to be one of the most feared competitors that had ever graced the Pit, having won a few championships himself, but not all. He did, however, have one of the highest success rates. He was nearly always the first man in the pit and one of the last to leave. Tempest watched from the sidelines, as all Stormborn do until they decide to enter the Pit themselves. She had grown deeply unsatisfied with the culture. She loved most everyone in her clan, but simultaneously, to her, they were all unhinged monsters. She wanted to see a change. A new leader who could steer them away from rash violence and lead with their mind rather than her fists. But who among them could possibly fit that bill? Oh, that's right. Her. At the edge of the pit sprouted two massive blue wings. Emerging from Tempest's back, she flew down to stand opposite Galvin with a stern expression on her face. She was serious, as she normally is. Galvin's initial expression was surprised, but it quickly turned to a joyful smile. Another contender. Tempest. The Wind. Are you ready to dance?
I am. I've had my fair share of experience dancing.
Massive bolts of lightning crackled between her hands. She wielded the storm like a skilled craftsman wields his tools. Galvin's body coursed to a thunder in response, and he charged screaming. She took to the skies, positioning herself behind him, and shot a streak of light near his head. He tumbled to the ground, but quickly realigned himself to face her and made another run towards Tempest. She shot another bolt, but Galvin managed to dodge this one, and the next, and the next. Galvin was now in range and he grabbed her by the neck and landed a thundering punch directly to her face. She recoiled backwards, landing on the floor beneath her, blood streaming from her mouth. Galvin was not one to give his opponents a chance to recover, and he quickly went in for another punch, landing him squarely in her abdomen. The crowd cheered And Tempest cough blood straight into Galvin's helmet. He laughed at her pain. She couldn't take another punch. She needed to move. Her wings helped her fly up yet again, but this time she positioned herself directly above Galvin. He looked up at her with a bloody smile. She smiled back. Thunder coursed through her veins as she shot a massive streak of lightning at her enemy below. The sound echoed through the entire forest and shot a beacon of light into the dark sky. Smoke and ash billowed out from the sight of her blast as she gently lowered herself to the floor. She walked up to her defeated enemy as he lay unconscious in the mud. With a violent look in her eye, she looked out at the crowd.
Am I not your ruler?
They were speechless.
That's what I thought.
She breathed heavily, not breaking eye contact with the crowd.
I hereby abolish the Pit. This clan will change under my eye with my hand.
Yet again no response came from the masses.
I am the future of the Stormborn. All of you savages.
Sa Tempest and Gale stand pensively over a war table, mapping out potential plans for defensive maneuvers. Etherius and her insulting monstrosity of a bodyguard have been making light work of the entire Stormborn army, and they need to respond with a careful operation to either retaliate or retreat.
My suggestion is to pull back all forces to this day defensive line, leaving a quarter of them there to hold off this witch while we withdraw the rest of the forces through the denser part of the forest and make way to Infernus for refuge.
You're suggesting we sacrifice a quarter of our army and leave them to die?
The decision pains me as much as it pains you, Tempest. But in war as a leader, sometimes you have to make difficult decisions.
Even if we go with this plan and succeed in withdrawing our forces, your choice of refuge is Infernus. Midas City that snake refused to send reinforcements and you think he will welcome the entirety of the Stormborn people with open arms?
Maybe not with open arms, but he will indeed accept us. Snake or not, he is not not a villain. And he has no choice if he wants to stop this dark force. Infernus is the closest allied city we can retreat to.
Tempest hangs her head. Some years ago, when she challenged the Pit and came out on top to become the ruler of the Stormborn, she was not prepared to make decisions as a general in the thick of war. She clenches a fist in an attempt to restrain her emotions.
The Glacier Borne will supposedly be supplying reinforcements, but we cannot rely on them arriving in time. We will proceed with your plan, Gael. Rally the troops and prepare them to pull back to the defensive line. I won't let another Stormborn die.
Suddenly, a bolt of dark energy crashes across the table and connects with Gael's chest, sending him flying into the wall. Behind him. Gail, the black and red bone adorned robes of the enemy make their way through the doorway.
I don't think I've formally introduced myself.
Tempest fires a projectile of searing lightning directly at Aetherius, but the attack is absorbed by a field of darkness.
Do you know why I've been wanting to speak with you?
Tempest fires off another stream of electricity, this time reflected by the dark field into the roof of the building, causing it to catch fire.
So volatile. You remind me of myself. Or rather, more specifically, who I used to be.
I'm not one for empty discussion, you cheap occultist.
Tempest's eyes glow yellow as she channels her spirit animal, the hawk. Her wings beat as she puts her hands together and fires a beam of concentrated electrical energy at Aetherius. Athyus again procures a field of dark energy to absorb the blast and holds it for as long as she can, but can only hold it off for so long before the beam breaks through the field and sears her shoulder palm. Tempest falls to her knees, catching her breath. Drained from such an extensive use of her abilities.
All that just to dent my armor.
Ethereus makes her way over to her, kneeling to level her face with Tempests.
You are so much like who I used to be. Before I became what you see. Before you, I was angry, scared, violent, passionate. And above all, searching for a purpose in this world. Living as an orphan, I was alone, lost. Until I found the story of the Apothecary. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's the bedtime story kids hear to scare them out of wrongdoing, to make them aware of the things that go bump in the night. My revelation came when I realized that this story is not the scary one. It's one of hope. From that moment onward, I spent every waking moment of my life searching for the answers of what the legends call the dark arts. By the time I had mastered it, I had learned my purpose. My role in this realm is to destroy. To serve as an entropic force that dismantles what currently exists.
Etheria stands to tower over Tempest.
There can be no creation without destruction. And I am happy to be the undoer.
Tempest looks over at her unconscious brother. She begins to struggle to stand.
You have no purpose, Ruler Tempest. Not yet. In order to find it, you must destroy yourself or someone will do it for you.
Aetherius aims a glowing red hand at Gael as she begins charging a dark blast of energy to finish the deed. Suddenly, Aetherius ribcage is met with a deafening blow from a massive iron hammer topped with spikes of ice. Aetherius is sent reeling into a wall as her armor of bone begins to crack. The glacier born kingdom does not recognize the rule of a wielder of the dark arts.
King Verglas, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. But you are mistaken.
Verglaw makes his way over to Aetherius, bringing the hammer over his head, preparing to land a crushing blow.
I am no ruler.
Aetherius fires tentacles of dark magic at Verglas, pinning him to the far wall.
I am a ruiner.
She tightens the tendril's grip around Verglas iron armor.
I admire you Verglas. You have purpose. It's a shame our purposes contradict.
The tendrils begin to crack and dent the heavy armor of the Glacierborn king. But Verglas manages to shake off the dark energy before his protection is shattered. He grabs his hammer, taking it in both hands as he takes a massive swing towards Aetherius skull. She manages to deflect it in the darkness field just in time and responds with a quick pull towards Verglaw's abdomen. Verglaw's armor withstands the hit and he prepares to take another swing. Tempest, Take your brother and get out of here. Withdraw your army. Myself and my people will hold off this witch. Tempest hesitates for a moment before darting over to Gael and scooping him into her arms. She takes one last look at Vergla.
I won't let you down.
She flies Gael out of a hole in the roof as Vergla is left to do battle with Aetherius in the burning building. From above the treeline, Tempest watches as the full might of the glacier born army marches into Stormborn territory, prepared to face down Aetherius, her dark beast. Elsewhere in the realm, King Midas sits in an empty throne room. The wine in his chalice has all but vanished. As he stares down the lengthy vacant hall, he tightens his grip around the cup. Midas throws the chalice down the length of the throne room, sending echoed sounds to reverberate off the wall.