Hannibal Forge
patreon
Cataclysm War | Chapter 58: A Moment of Peace (First Draft)
🕑 Added 2026-01-16 06:19:08 +0000 UTCWednesday, August 3, 4 S.E.
Leonidas lay on his bed with his arm over his eyes, staring at the velvet drapes of his four-poster bed in silent contemplation, attired in a simple black shirt and loose-fitting dark silk leggings. The events following his victory over Braedon had accelerated things in Dawnhaven with considerable vigor: no one had come out to challenge Aylar’s ascension as of yet, even a day after Braedon’s defeat, and the Queen-Potentiate had already handled the funerary arrangements; permitting the fallen Prince-Royal’s Harem to attend as she’d lit the pyre and consigned his body to the embrace of the winds.
He’d seen her after the funeral, exchanging a single kiss and words of comfort before she’d been forced to separate from him to handle the matter of her coronation. It was something he was more than happy to leave in her capable hands, and they’d promised to meet again for dinner in a few hours at the Palace, which Aylar had assured him would be prepared for his habitation in good order.
Leonidas sighed and felt another faint tremble roll through his frame.
The weaknesses following his use of [Cataclysm Overdrive] remained a carefully guarded secret, known only to Ceruviel, Uriel, Kairi, Aylar, Synthra, Parnym, and Bardulf. They had not included anyone else in the secret simply to ensure they weren’t made targets just in case, and because too many minds sharing a secret inevitably led to its leaking. Even telling that many people had been a colossal risk, but Leonidas trusted the Regents, his sister, and his Party with his life. If they were going to betray him, he’d just take that as it came.
Nobody had bothered him during the day since his fight, save for Kairi, who came to complain about missing television and online streaming programs, which Leonidas readily empathized with. The inability to spend hours forgetting about reality to the glory of production television was not something he’d thought he’d miss as much as he did—let alone the chance to doomscroll on a smartphone. Both luxuries seemed so distantly behind him, now, that he only barely thought about them.
In moments like his current, however, they trickled back, and he missed them.
His thoughts turned toward what came next, and Leonidas sighed again.
He and Aylar had decided to have their wedding before her Coronation, just after the Right of Challenge window ended. The two of them had already agreed to accelerate their marriage, within an acceptable timeframe, simply to reassure the Terran populace and to solidify their union to appease the Alteran populace, especially the Haelfenn.
Despite the fact that they could wait, neither of them wanted Aylar to deal with the accusations of dubious intent, and if they only wed after those accusations were levied, it would do nothing to defang their bite. The Queen had already scheduled the ceremony, as far as he understood, and was actively searching for a Terran capable of performing it in the traditional way.
That, of course, brought him to his parents.
Kairi had consented to contact them, despite her reservations, and his sister had been adamant that she be allowed to do it her way—which inevitably translated to departing Dawnhaven an hour prior with Parnym, her Vanguard Squad, and an escort Lance of the Royal Army to ensure her safety, as the ‘sister of the future King’. Leonidas didn’t want to think too hard about why his sister had insisted on taking the Mender with her, but he chose to believe it was purely for his Archetype.
It was easier than imagining the uncomfortable alternative.
His mind drifted back toward his [Profile], and he pulled it up with an idle flex of Intent and a shift of his arm from his eyes.
His Physical Attributes, as the System promised, had been cleaved in half.
His Strength was reduced to 19, his Vitality to 15, and his Agility and Dexterity to 13 and 14, respectively, after factoring in his [Duelist] bonuses. His Endurance, most notably, had been cut down to 18, and that meant he was about as energetic as a hospital patient compared to his usual level of vigor.
A knock at his door interrupted the moody consideration of his [Profile], and he dismissed it with a wave of his hand, turning to the door with a grimace.
“Enter,” he said in English, too lazy to think about Haelfennyr in the moment.
The doors opened a second later to reveal Synthra, attired in a surprising choice of red form-flattering blouse, tight-fitting dark jeans, and a pair of sandals as she stepped inside, shutting the doors behind her and planting her fists on her hips while eyeing him.
Leonidas raised his eyebrows at her appearance, and before he could say anything, the woman stalked over to them, her golden eyes appraising him critically as she did.
“Synthra?” Leonidas asked warily, his arm lowering from his head as she stared.
“Aylar was worried about you,” the Sorceress declared promptly, followed by a small blush along her cheeks and the tips of her Haelfar ears. “So was I. You’ve been locked in your room since after the funeral, and the maids tell me you’ve barely eaten anything.”
Leonidas grimaced at her words and glanced away from her guiltily, his eyes fixing back onto the top of his four-poster. “My appetite has been terrible,” he admitted honestly, forcing sincerity where instinct demanded obfuscation. “Using [Cataclysm Overdrive] left more than just physical debilitation. I’m coping with the idea that the power it gives might very well be addicting. It’s… not a nice thought.”
Synthra raised her eyebrows at that, and her full lips pursed in thought.
“At least you’re upfront about it,” she said finally, and after a moment of hesitation, seated herself on the bed beside him. Her left hand, following another second of pause, reached out to take his own, and she looked at his face—drawing his gaze to her as their fingers wordlessly intertwined.
“I was worried about you when I saw you in the Arena,” the Sorceress admitted more quietly, her cheeks flushed as she admitted it, though her aurum eyes remained fixed on his own. “You looked euphoric, soaring across the arena as you were. It reminded me of the trials, of the last one specifically—albeit a more… bombastic image. You looked like you were drunk on that power.”
Leonidas listened to her in silence and then, finally, smiled when she finished—a wry smile, one born of resignation rather than true humor.
“You read me pretty perfectly, Synthra,” he admitted to her honestly and felt her gently squeeze his hand. “It did feel… freeing. It was like I found an echo of my strength from Elatra again, and I could hear my Core urging me toward destruction. I didn’t listen, of course, but it was there. I could feel it influencing me. It would have been so easy to brutalize Braedon, but in the end, I couldn’t do it.”
Synthra nodded slightly at his words, her expression searching his, and shifted on the bed to face him better.
“You did the right thing, Achilles,” she said seriously, her melodious, husky voice low with thought. “You did. Giving Braedon that duel at the end—it surprised all of us. Aylar most of all. We expected you to thrash him, but what you did…”
The Sorceress trailed off, and her ruby lips spread into a faint smile.
“It was Kingly, Achilles. You treated him with respect, even though he’d never done a thing to deserve it. You gave him a proper death, something few others would have done in your position. I—I was very proud of you, for that.”
Leonidas smiled with genuine appreciation at her words and shifted after a moment, moving over toward the other side of the bed to make room for her. After a second of consideration, the Sorceress accepted the silent invitation, removing her sandals and scooting further onto the covers, her legs tucked beneath her in a ladylike manner that faintly surprised him.
Instead of drawing attention to it, he reached out to take her right hand in his left this time, and twined their fingers together again.
Synthra glanced down at the connection when he did, almost afraid, and then turned back to him.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said to her calmly, his voice subtly warmer as he enjoyed the vision of her beauty. “Really. I know we’re waiting before we even think about escalation, but it doesn’t mean we can’t just… enjoy each other’s company.”
Synthra frowned at him when he spoke, and for a moment, he thought he’d said the wrong thing, until she sighed and reached up with her left hand to rake her manicured, painted nails through her hair.
“This is infuriating, you know,” the Sorceress said finally. “Aylar and I talked about the proper procedure, so I know how it has to go, but I can’t deny that it feels so… frustrating.”
“What do you mean?” he asked carefully, trying to avoid igniting her temper.
“This. You. Us,” she said in a strange mimicry of his own speech pattern. “It feels decidedly unfair that I have to wait. I don’t hold it against Aylar, nor you, it’s what we all agreed to—but these feelings, Achilles, they don’t go away so easily. I am Dragonblooded; our hearts are our greatest strength. My passions burn like living things.”
The Sorceress paused after she said it and then waved a hand.
“That came out wrong. I’m not saying I want to have you now, I’m saying I crave the intimacy. Court me, yes, win me, yes—but I admit to being rather impatient.”
“Once Aylar is crowned, and we’re married—”
“I know,” Synthra said, cutting him off as she blew away a strand of her hair in annoyance. “I know. She already asked me to be her, um, Maid of Honor? Yes, that.”
“Really?” Leonidas asked with a warm smile. “That’s fantastic, Synthra.”
“I know, it was extremely touching,” Synthra muttered with a faint smile. “Though, now I’m thinking of those terrible Terran romances where the bride’s best friend canoodles with her husband,” she continued with another blush, “and it’s mortifying.”
Leonidas laughed quietly at her innocent concern, and his hand squeezed hers in reassurance.
“Believe me, Synthra, I don’t think Aylar will be all too worried about us canoodling, as long as it happens after the wedding.”
“I’m aware, Achilles,” Synthra said with a flash of haughtiness, and then sighed a moment later. “I’m still trying to work through these feelings. One moment, I want to climb on you like a wild woman, the next, I want to hit you for putting these damned thoughts in my head. Curse those trials, they only made it all so much worse.”
“Yeah,” Leonidas said, his own mind flashing to the trials and the vivid memories they’d implanted of their relationships within the memories of their false lives. “I know what you mean. It’s not real, and it’s not the same as a real memory, but damned if they aren’t graphic.”
“Exactly,” Synthra agreed, her head shaking as her horns caught the light with a glint of striated gold. “Plus, your sister was giving me all sorts of shrewd looks in the time leading up to the Challenge. She kept asking me about my thoughts on children. Children, Achilles! The woman was relentless. If she weren’t so much stronger, I’d have thumped her.”
Leonidas grinned at the words and squeezed her hand again, drawing a faint smile from the Sorceress when he did.
“Kairi is… Kairi,” he finished a little lamely as his grin shifted to a rueful smile. “She is singularly driven when she gets something in her head. She was not thrilled to hear I planned on having more than one wife, and promised to tell our mom so she could express her displeasure as well.”
“Really?” Synthra asked, her cheeks flushing at his mention of ‘more than one wife’, and her eyes darting at him and away repeatedly as she mulled over the words. “You said that?”
Leonidas raised his eyebrows at her reaction and shifted, reaching across his body with his right hand to place his fingers under the smooth plane of her chin, turning her toward him. “I did,” he reaffirmed, his eyes searching hers as she looked at him in surprise. “I meant it, too. The trials were a nightmare, Synthra, but they gave me perspective—real perspective. Aylar and I already talked about it, too. I’m going to marry you, one day, if you’ll have me. The idea of it still makes the Texas boy in me want to slam my own head into a wall, but I can’t deny the way I feel about you.”
Synthra’s lips parted in a small ‘O’, and after a moment, she seemed to decide something and moved closer, flopping herself over until her head was on the opposite pillow, horns carefully placed, and she was facing him on the bed—her curvaceous body, much to his momentary panic, mere inches from his.
“Tell me about Texas,” she said abruptly, opening with something he hadn’t expected. “About your life, I mean, before the Integration. I—I’m curious,” she said, hesitating again before reaching out to grab his right hand with both of hers and pull it against her, cradling it just above her breasts possessively. “Tell me everything.”
Leonidas swallowed at the proximity and tried not to think of the image her position on the bed created, while shifting his eyes to focus on hers. “Okay,” he said after a moment of thought. “How much do you actually want to know?”
“Tell me everything,” she reinforced immediately, her golden gaze laser-focused. “Every detail you can remember of your earlier years. I want to understand you, Achilles, and maybe understand your terrifying sister, too. I… I quite enjoy her company, actually. She’s very fierce. I respect that in another woman. It will be good to learn about my, um, f-future sister-in-law.”
Leonidas grinned faintly at her words, feeling his heart flutter in his chest with disbelief, and shook his head.
“Okay,” he said finally, calming as he did. “Well, I didn’t actually originally live in Texas. Kairi and I were born in Orlando, actually, which is a city in Florida, far to the South of this continent.”
Synthra shifted her weight to get more comfortable as she listened, and Leonidas let the memories take him as he spoke, a strange sense of calm filling him as he recalled his childhood.
“Our parents moved there after they were married, actually, and Kairi and I were both pretty precocious when we were younger, because…”
The memories flowed as he spoke, and time seemed to melt as he did.
For the first time since the Challenge, he didn’t even notice the hours pass by.
Comments
Mr Exar Kun
Tftc
Hannibal Forge
That was the hope!
Hannibal Forge
Noted!
BW13307
Great chapter nice change of pace only comment is this line ‘he admitted honestly, forcing honesty where instinct demanded obfuscation’ double up of honest makes it read weird to me.
Durabler
This was a nice relaxing chapter after all the chaos
