Cataclysm War | Chapter 69: Pendragon (First Draft)

Leonidas shivered as the experience flooded into him, and he transitioned to Level 19 immediately, thankfully one level shy of his Tempering. That would have been a highly unfortunate incident if he’d started Tribulating in the middle of the damn Palace. His eyes met Aylar’s, and she smiled at him lovingly.

“In anticipation of this moment, I have prepared the necessary accoutrements,” the Queen declared, nodding to Ceruviel, who stepped forward and snapped her fingers in imitation of Uriel. When she did, a black crown appeared in her hand, inlaid with alternating amethysts and rubies in a decidedly more… dramatic appearance than Aylar’s own crown.

“In light of the developments, I will not stand on ceremony,” the Duchess said in English. “Who are we to argue with the Queen and the System both, after all?” Ceruviel asked slyly, and then bent to set the crown on his head.

+Well done, my Squire,+ she said silently into his head. +Well done indeed.+

“People of Dawnhaven!” Aylar said before he could reply. “I give you your King, Leonidas Achilles Romulus Paendrag, First of his name, Archon, Defier of Heavens, the Black Knight of Dawnhaven!”

Leonidas rose at Aylar’s words as the cheers exploded from the Terrans and stepped forward, turning to join her on the dais and sliding his arm around her waist before she could step aside, holding her in place as she blinked at him and hurriedly murmured to him urgently.

“Husband, this isn’t the way that—”

“I’m the King,” he said back quietly, cutting her off as the cheers hid his words. “We decide that, now.”

Aylar blinked at him and then smiled with a blush to her ears, whispering into his own.

“You will be thanked for that later, then, my heart.”

Leonidas tried not to let his blush overtake his face at her heated whisper, and focused instead on the guarded faces of the Haelfenn, the cautiously curious faces of the Nyrfenn, and the openly ecstatic faces of the Terrans. His eyes swept over his parents, Reginald and Maryanne, who looked a mix between stunned and elated, then to his grimly smiling sister, Kairia, who looked expectant, while Synthra’s blushing and excited features were proud, and Bardulf and Parnym grinned at him incorrigibly.

John, Sonya, Patrick, and Elise just looked overwhelmed, though the younger Archon Squire had his chest puffed out, looking around as if to announce his relation to Leonidas.

It reminded him of what was important, and he drew a breath to speak.

“I am not as well-spoken as my wife,” Leonidas said finally, his voice signaling the cheering to die down as it carried across the chamber. “But we have spoken of this day, albeit in different circumstances, and I do have one announcement to make before we break for the celebratory banquet.”

His [Cataclysm Core] thrummed in his chest as he spoke, still wounded, but steadily recovering, and he let out a breath before inhaling again.

“First, there are several Lords present who wish to duel me. Let it be known that I will not disgrace the codices of honor that my wife’s Alteran heritage values. Those duels will be met, absent the weight of my Crown, following the mandated celebrations.”

That drew a mixed reaction; tacit approval from the Alterans, and looks of undisguised loathing from the Terrans toward the Alterans, the Haelfenn in particular, though the aliens remained wholly unruffled.

“Second, I will make it known that I am courting Synthra of the Everflame, at my wife’s behest and approval,” he nodded to the fiery, dragon-blooded redhead standing with Sinalthria, “and will be her accompaniment to several formal engagements in the weeks to come.”

That drew no less than two dozen eligible bachelors to the Sorceress, who blushed from her cheeks to her ears as Sinalthria’s tail snapped back and forth in tacit approval of his words. That was one promise, at least, fulfilled. Even if he knew his future with Synthra was all-but-assured, it would help her prospects with the nobility for them to know a King was courting her, implying the illusion of uncertainty in their final union.

“Thirdly, from today onward, Dawnhaven will change. Dawnhaven must change.”

His words forged silence once more, tense and palpable, and all attention snapped back to Leonidas as he spoke—with Aylar bracing her hand on his chest in unspoken support as she watched the Court with stoic support of his words, a gift whose value he couldn’t have put into words if he tried. Her existence as the anchor of Eldormer legitimacy meant nobody would openly challenge him, not while she showed tacit support

“For years, this City has existed as an Alteran hegemony. For years, the truly invaluable aid of our Alteran brethren has guided and grown Dawnhaven, from a colony into a city of might and prestige. That is a laudable achievement, and no Terran would easily forget, I hope, the priceless aid that Alteran knowledge has been in the defiance of the monsters that now populate humanity’s cradle.”

The Terrans in the crowd shifted in that, and he saw several faces glance at the Alterans and him, with a mix of acknowledgment and begrudging respect. To illustrate the point, Ceruviel and Uriel stood at attention, nodding once in affirmation as Leonidas continued.

“However,” he said pointedly, his gaze drifting to the Haelfenn. “Terra is not Altera. This Kingdom is not Eldormer. The attempt to recreate that truth will, invariably, end in the erasure of our joint cultural identity—which is something that, after counsel from the Regents-Paramount, my wife’s advisors, and my own people, I will not abide.”

The silence was tense as he continued, but Leonidas only elevated his chin as he continued, remembering Lyara and Miranda’s lessons on public speaking. Confidence was everything. He needed to ride the momentum, to use his Charisma and irrevocable will to convince them in a way words alone would not.

They would rail against him, before long, but they would submit.

He had to believe that, or he was doomed before he truly began.

“My wife and I desire Dawnhaven to be a beacon, a lasting bastion, a lighthouse in the darkness that ushers the lost and the forlorn to a home. It was once said, upon the statue of Liberty that once signified this fallen nation of Terra’s ideals: ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’”

He saw many of the Terrans straighten at the words as the Alterans looked on in silence, and his parents both nodded in approval when he spoke.

“In the ages of centuries passed, before these ideals existed, there was a legend on Terra. A legend of a land named Albion, and the King that ruled it.”

Now he had them, the Terrans certainly, but also the Alterans—they were naturally drawn to monarchic legends, even alien ones. The scholastic interest they held, coupled with the cultural elevation of myths of every nature, conspired together to draw the Alterans into a subtly razor-edged attention to his words. They wanted to hear more, even as they partially disapproved.

“In adherence to that tale, and out of desire to return to an ideal long-since-passed, my wife and I have come to a decision. Today, we were married in the Terran way, and by joint agreement, it will be the Terran way in which we step toward the future. Terra, my people, is not Altera—but Altera will always remain part of who we are, whether we wish it or we do not. That is the essence of what allowed our joint peoples to persevere. It was the core of what made the dream of Dawnhaven a possibility.”

Leonidas looked down at Aylar, meeting her luminous eyes, and smiled at her before returning his gaze to the crowd.

“Allow me to be clear, so my words are not misunderstood,” he continued, eyes shifting over the Alterans and Terrans steadily. “This is not an erasure, this is not a reversal. We of Terra owe an incalculable debt to the people of Altera, for it was Alteran steel, Alteran honor, and Alteran nobility that shaped this City into what it has become. It was Alteran valor, Alteran stoicism, and Alteran righteousness that created a land where Terrans could feel safe from manabeasts and our less enlightened peers.”

The Alterans seemed to soften slightly at that, standing straighter as his words washed over them, and the cumulative effects of his Charisma boosts worked to bolster the impact of his words.

“Yes, we owe a debt to Altera, but we cannot be constrained by that legacy. There is no path home for our Alteran kin; there is no passage back to Eldormer-upon-Altera. There is no recourse for them any longer, my Terran brothers and sisters, for our new neighbors to return to the land of their birth. We forget easily, I think, that our new kin are as displaced as we are—they came to a foreign world prepared, yes, but a foreign world it remains. Are we, then, to expect them to see no echo of what they lost in what they have created? Would we be so callous as to forget our origins in kind?”

He felt his words gaining momentum as he spoke, and he saw Terrans nodding, some reluctantly, but nodding nonetheless—his parents among them, though they looked downright enthusiastic.

“I have married a Haelfar, I have promised to love her and respect her, to put her as first in my heart, and I will do so—because that is the bond between us. Alteran and Terran? No, those titles have no meaning any longer, beyond acknowledgement of our origins—which must remain as aspirations, not dictations of our future. Before my people were Terrans, we were Americans. Before our new arrivals were Alterans, they were Eldormans, Tavarians, Muralians, Tychonians, and any other combination thereof. They had their own nations, their own countries, their own legacies.”

He saw the Alterans nodding at this, several of them thumping their chests in approval as the words hit their mark, and several of the Terrans peered at them with new consideration. It had likely never occurred to them, Leonidas realized, that the Alterans were not a homogeneous culture. It was a realization that was far too late in coming, but the gravity of it served their purposes in that moment—his and Aylar’s both.

“To that end, we must acknowledge legacy as a joint collective. We must set aside the divisions of race and culture and move forward together. Not as Terran, not as Alteran, but as one people. One nation. One Kingdom, united by purpose and intention. We must do away with the schisms that separate us, and we must advance into our new age of prosperity by accepting that what was will never be again. Altera will not rise anew on Terra, and America will never again be the beacon of strength it once was.”

That drew decidedly mixed reactions, but Leonidas ignored it as he felt himself reaching his crescendo, Aylar’s steady presence at his side a source of strength as she watched them alongside him.

“As King of Dawnhaven, by the investiture of the System and the Divines, and as the lawful husband of Queen Aylar, I make this pronouncement with my [Sovereign] Ambition as my authority: the Royal House of Dawnhaven will have a new name. As it was in ages past for my bloodline, now lost to the annals of history, so it shall be again. From this moment on, Dawnhaven shall not know a Monarch named Eldormer, nor a Monarch named Paendrag.”

Before more than a reactive objection could brew, Aylar spoke.

“This is my will in kind,” his Queen added, as if detecting the moment was right. “My husband, your King, speaks the truth, and we cannot shy away from its telling, my kin, even if the words set our oldest instincts on edge.”

A rumble of discontent echoed from the staunch traditionalists, but Leonidas, aided by Aylar’s reinforcement, pushed through it with sheer Willpower.

“Instead,” Leonidas continued doggedly, “we shall create a new dynasty, one that will echo now, as it echoed before, into the far history of this new world. We will step forward into this new future as brothers and sisters, not divided by race or by ideology, but bound by a common ideal: the justice of Archons, a check against the corruption of all, and an Order we will refound. The martial guidance of Altera, codices we will retain. The pride of Terra, a self-identity we will transform. No more are we simply Terran or Alteran, despite honoring those origins.”

Leonidas lifted his left hand and curled it into a fist.

“From this moment forth, I declare the renaming of [Dominion 5] into the [Kingdom of Avalon], as it was before, and as it must be again. From this moment forth, I declare the reformation of equal representation, with the establishment of a Senate in the form of a House of Commons and House of Lords, with details to come, to give the people a representative voice within this burgeoning Kingdom. From this day forth, we will be Avalonians, one and all!”

Building, tense silence met his words, and Leonidas delivered his final decree into that silence.

“And finally, I declare the formation of the Royal House! No more will I be shackled to the sins of my grandfather—sins that stained my name long before the System ever touched me—nor my wife chained to the legacy of the great-but-gone Ectherion! Henceforth, and in perpetuity, the Royal House of the [Kingdom of Avalon] will have a new name! A new identity! New banner under which all souls of our new homeland may fight, with Terran courage, Alteran valor, and the honor of both worlds-as-one!”

Leonidas smiled, and his voice echoed with the force of a hammer.

When he spoke again, he did not offer them a choice—only a future.

“I declare the restitution of the Royal House of Pendragon, and the birth of a new era for all people under its aegis!”