ã€ŠThe Last Elf Lord [Progression Fantasy]ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Chasing a Fairy Dragon

    <hr>

    The sun beat down on Tristan¡¯s back as he stomped across the soggy road. It had rained the night before and the entire region was soaked through. It made travel hellish, and all but the most stubborn traders would be waiting until the ground firmed up a bit. But not Tristan. This type of hard travel was what he had grown used to over the past few years.

    He trudged along the path, following the glimmer of sparkling starlight from the lantern on his hip. It was the only guiding light to try and find the creature that had plagued his existence since he set off on his journey so long ago. Sent out at the ripe, young age of sixteen to go and slay a dragon. But not just any dragon, a fairy dragon. The weakest of the bunch ¨C but also the most crafty and nefarious.

    Oh, he¡¯d almost caught it a few times. But each time, it slipped away, or he had struck an illusion it created, or he had experienced terrible luck and slipped on some ungodly substance strewn upon the ground. Every time he had gotten close, he¡¯d either barely injured it before it escaped, or it hexed him, cursing him with bad fortune.

    The quest was to kill the thing, but even a shoddy student like Tristan knew that a fairy dragon could only be killed by trapping it within a cage of iron and then slaying it. One that he had strapped to his back. It was a heavy burden to carry over the years, but it was the only means he had to permanently kill it. At least, if his grandfather¡¯s dragonslaying manual was anything to go by.

    Some dragonslayer I¡¯ve turned out to be, he thought. What would father or grandfather think of this whole mess? Chasing the weakest of the dragon-kind for years and years? Bertram or Gisele would have killed it in their first encounter, I bet.

    Bertram was five years his elder, and Gisele was three years older. Both were full-blood Humans, just like their father. Tristan shared the same father, but his mother was one of the Elf heritage, from across the sea, as she used to tell a younger Tristan when he would be on her knee in the study.

    He had always been compared to his siblings. Bertram, more traditionally handsome than him, was popular with the girls. He had made a name for himself at twelve when he helped their father kill a nefarious dragon cultist in the Kingdom of Bhant. Tristan vividly recalled the evenings when they had lessons on dragonkind with his grandfather, and Bertram instead stayed in the practice yard swinging his weighted blades over and over.

    Gisele, on the other hand, was not a skilled swordswoman. She was a natural. Their father used to say that she was born to have a sword in her hand, and she barely had to practice with the blade. Instead, most of her time was spent at the court. She still wanted to be a dragonslayer, like their father and grandfather, but she also wanted to ascend the ranks of nobility. Leveraging her name and impressing a possible husband was one of the ways she could do that.

    Tristan¡­he was average at everything he tried. The only half-breed of the family, Tristan was quite attached to his mother. She taught him history, reading, writing, and other subjects of academics ¨C spurning the tutors his brother and sister were assigned. His grandfather taught him how to slay dragons.

    But¡­his whole life he had been plagued by bad luck. And it had manifested once more, as his thoughts returned to the present. The rain from the night before came out of nowhere, and it made traveling hell. Tristan could feel the mud working its way through the armored soles of his greaves and wiggling into the boots inside.

    Tristan paused as he felt the lantern on his hip vibrate. He began scanning the drowned farmland, searching for any sign of magical activity. The lantern began to pull away from his hip slightly, indicating a very strong presence of magic¡­and a direction. There would always be a ¡®glimmer¡¯ of some type in the air to indicate the presence of magic, like a mirage in a desert.

    Leaving the road, he began running across the field, tripping and falling a few times before hefting himself up out of the mud. He was not clumsy, and there was no good reason to fall. Fairy dragons were well-known for their trickery and practical jokes, and Tristan chalked his slipping up to that malevolent magic that had plagued him ever since he first encountered this creature. That, or the bad luck he¡¯d been cursed with.

    I¡¯m so close! he thought as he drew one of the Anorox family¡¯s ancestral blades. Injure it, grab it, get it in the cage. Then stab it.

    The crops that were knee-height had become taller and taller the further away he was from the road. He could no longer see that muddy trail, and his eyes were glued, transfixed on the shining trail of glimmering starlight. The pull on the lantern was stronger than he had ever seen. There¡¯s so much magic around us.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    He slowed his gait and walked more cautiously, zoning out as he focused solely on his hearing. A trick he had learned from his mother, as she taught him to listen to the sounds of nature for hints to danger in the environment. The rustling of the corn stalks, the scent of the fallen rain¡­and a slight noise just barely on the edge of his hearing.

    He could hear the faint giggle of laughter somewhere in front of him. Too many crops to make a stealthy approach, he thought as he heard the crunch underfoot of a bit of corn that had seemingly fallen right in front of him. Once more, he cursed his luck. I could just rush it, but without vision that¡¯s tricky. Think. Options¡­

    The lantern kept pulling, and he took a sharp breath. Some big spell! It¡¯s all or nothing! He charged forward through the tall grass, cutting left and right to make a clearer path so that he could speed up his approach. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the thump thump of his heart in his chest, and the exhilaration of finally tracking down his prey¡­again. Gods, please don¡¯t let there be anything to screw me up this time. Please let my bad luck just stay away.

    He entered a clearing that glowed with magical energy. The whole environment was warbling and warping from the power¡¯s distortion. He had no clue the type of spell or which Order it might fall under, as essence-weaving was a school of learning reserved for those with the ability to become a mage. He knew the basics well enough, as any noble did. But essence-weaving was beyond his capacity.

    In the center of the clearing was his prey. The fairy dragon he had been chasing all this time. It could be considered cute by some. A small, foxlike creature covered with armored scales that glimmered with the hues of the rainbow. Instead of ears, it had a pair of deer antlers that were a stark white color. Its wings were like that of a songbird mixed with a butterfly; a crimson and blue that clashed with each other.

    ¡°Well, look who found me, again,¡± the feminine voice said arrogantly. ¡°Aren¡¯t you tired of chasing dragons?¡± It giggled and then flew up from the ground, and Tristan spotted some type of circle on the ground under it. ¡°I¡¯m going to be going now. Don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s been fun! But you¡¯ve bored me.¡±

    Tristan did not engage in banter as he had before ¨C it was a mistake he¡¯d made on his first encounter, letting himself get distracted by the dragon talking. Something that was not in his grandfather¡¯s dragonslaying manual.

    Instead, he charged forward and chopped down with his sword. Silent, reserving all of his energy to fight.

    ¡°Hey, that is not nice!¡± the fairy dragon dashed sideways, dodging the blow. Tristan¡¯s lantern was spinning wildly on the small chain it was attached to, and the device exploded with an enormous crack from the sheer amount of magical energy present in the ambient environment. The shards pinged off Tristan¡¯s armor, but one of the bits of iron caught the fairy dragon in the body.

    ¡°Ouch!¡±

    Tristan took advantage of that opening and slashed with a horizontal swing, catching the creature and shearing clean through its wing. It let out a scream of pain as it fell to the ground. Tristan immediately sheathed the sword, loosened the cage from his back, letting it fall to the ground, and tackled the creature. A move he had practiced over and over the past few years, preparing for this moment.

    ¡°No! This is not fun anymore!¡± the fairy dragon shouted. ¡°I¡¯m going home!¡±

    ¡°No you don¡¯t!¡± Tristan shouted as he tried to wrestle the fairy dragon to the cage. His grandfather¡¯s manual stated that fairy dragons could only be killed if they were trapped in an iron cage. Just get in there!

    The world began to glow a cerulean blue, and Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, still holding tight to the fairy dragon as he wrangled it. The creature tried to claw and bite at him but found no purchase against his armor. Tristan was able to haul it to the cage behind him and shoved the fairy dragon into it before slamming the door shut.

    I¡­I got it! Tristan began to draw his sword to deliver the final blow, but the entire world turned white around him.

    ¡°Really? Really?! A Cage?! That was your grand plan?¡±

    Tristan was confused, ¡°What?¡±

    The world vanished and Tristan was in a black void. Still on some type of solid surface, nothing else existed except for him, the cage, and the fairy dragon. ¡°Nice going, jackass. You got us in between your home and my home!¡± The fairy dragon¡¯s wing grew back, it said something he didn¡¯t catch, and with a burst of magical energy, the cage turned into a bunch of flowers that cascaded down.

    But¡­fairy dragons can¡¯t do anything against iron. Unless grandfather¡¯s manual was wrong?

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot. Who wastes two years of their life trying to kill a fairy dragon? Seriously! We don¡¯t hurt anyone! Just harmless pranks! Well, mostly harmless.¡±

    Tristan felt rage boil up in him, ¡°I can¡¯t go back until you¡¯re dead!¡±

    The fairy dragon¡¯s face shifted and showed a dour expression, ¡°Well that¡¯s a s-t-u-p-i-d, stupid rule. Did I emphasize how stupid that is?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because you stole the king¡¯s scepter!¡±

    The fairy dragon giggled, ¡°Oh, yeah. That was a fun prank! Who puts all their authority to rule into a silly metal stick? Doesn¡¯t seem like a solid system of government. ¡®Whoever holds this bit of metal gets to rule the kingdom¡¯ what i-d-i-o-t came up with that?¡±

    Tristan growled and grabbed the thing, ¡°I¡¯ve chased you for two years.¡±

    ¡°Waste of time. I thought we were playing a game of chase, but nooo. You just up and had to chop my wing."

    ¡°I just want to go home.¡±

    ¡°So do I!¡±

    The world began to light up. Gradually shifting from black to grey, to a blinding white. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Tristan asked.

    The fairy dragon replied with a giggle, ¡°Yes! We¡¯re going to the Fey Realm! In your face, wanna-be dragonslayer!¡±

    ¡°Where?¡±

 Chapter 2: Entering the Fey Realm

    The world returned around Tristan. But it was not his world. The cornfield was gone. He wasn¡¯t in a small clearing. And the sky was not blue. It was a shifting display of multiple hues. Purple, green, the familiar blue, a deeper blue - and it changed colors in various places. ¡°The Fey Realm, numb-nuts. Do you not even know where we come from? And you call yourself a dragonslayer.¡±

    Tristan looked down at the creature in his hands, ¡°Take us back. Now.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± The creature giggled and laughed. To Tristan¡¯s shock, the flowers that were around him began to laugh along with the fairy dragon. ¡°This is my realm.¡± She took in a deep breath. ¡°Moooooom!¡± she shouted.

    He pinned the creature to the purple grass beneath, squeezing down on the throat to silence it, and drew his weapon. He saw the fear in the creature¡¯s eyes, ¡°You¡¯ve escaped me so many times¡­but now there¡¯s no escape.¡±

    ¡°Hey, look doofus,¡± the voice wheezed out, panicked and talking like a charlatan and swindler would - all fast words. ¡°I never would have elucidated upon where our destination was if not for the malicious intent that you hold in your mind. I can¡¯t take you home. Fairy dragons can only travel to and from the Fey Realm once every century. You¡¯re out of luck! Killing me won¡¯t do anything, you¡¯ll be stuck here! And my species will not treat you nicely! My mom will kick your butt!¡±

    Tristan let out a scream of frustration and stabbed the blade down into the grass beside the fairy dragon. ¡°Damnit!¡± he screamed. ¡°I just want to go home!¡± He felt so angry and filled with sorrow. Years of my life¡­chasing this thing! I just¡­I want to go back. He wanted so badly to be a renowned hero of the kingdom¡­but instead he was a laughingstock.

    And that cut him more than any blade could. Even if I brought the corpse back¡­this long to hunt down the weakest type of dragon. I wouldn¡¯t earn any glory. I¡¯d probably get jeered at because it took so long. At the least, he knew that Bertram and Gisele would hold it against him his whole life. His father would be even more disappointed in him than he already was. His grandfather might be a little proud¡­but Tristan knew that he was in a lose-lose situation right now.

    The fairy dragon¡¯s voice was still fast-talking, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity. ¡°Go home to what? You¡¯re the youngest and least talented kid out of your whole family.¡±

    ¡°How do you know-¡±

    ¡°Not to mention you got the crappy job of chasing down a fairy dragon! And all for what? Some stupid metal rod?¡± There was a glimmer of light next to the fairy, and the metal rod of the king fell to the ground next to them. ¡°It¡¯s just a hunk of steel! I thought it would have gems or something on it, but nooo. No magic at all! Some stupid symbol of office.¡± She flapped her wings to no avail, and went limp as she sighed. ¡°And as to how I know that stuff ¨C you talk in your sleep.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been watching me while I was asleep?¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah. I had to make sure I didn¡¯t get too far ahead. Or else the chase would have ended!¡±

    Tristan kept the creature pinned by the neck but picked up the rod, diverting his attention away from her banter. Why the hell would the king be so pissed off at this being taken? It felt like a solid piece of metal. It had a bit of fancy scrollwork, but it didn¡¯t thrum in his hand like a magical item would, waiting for an infusion of magical energy which he did not have. ¡°He sent me to kill you over this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying! He sounds like a real jerk.¡±

    ¡°He is,¡± Tristan muttered. ¡°But he is still my king. And my family owes him for elevating us to nobility.¡± He put the scepter in a loop on his belt, then turned back to the fairy dragon. ¡°We¡¯re stuck here for the next hundred years?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right. Too bad you¡¯re not an Elf, otherwise you would survive that long.¡± She was referencing the Elvish heritage¡¯s trait of longevity.

    ¡°Half-Elf,¡± Tristan said as he pulled his silver hair back just enough to show off the slightly elongated tips of his ears.

    ¡°Oh. Then welcome home!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Elves are fey creatures from the Fey Realm. Well, initially. They moved to the Mortal Realm a long time ago.¡± The fairy dragon giggled, ¡°We used to be your best friends. But right now, you are not acting very friendly.¡± She blew a raspberry at him, her little, green tongue flagging in front of his face.

    Tristan shook his head, ¡°Why should I be? I started chasing you down when I was sixteen. Two years of life, lost out because you kept giving me the slip!¡±

    ¡°And it was a fun chase. Remember that time you cut off my tail and I barely got out of the window, and then you slipped on a bit of fruit rind of all things!¡± the fairy dragon giggled again, ¡°That was hilarious! It¡¯s been a fun chase.¡±

    Tristan felt the anger building up in him further and further, reaching a boiling point, and he resisted the temptation to squeeze down on this creature¡¯s throat. ¡°It was humiliating!¡±

    ¡°Do tell. I could use a laugh right now.¡±

    He grit his teeth as he growled out the words, remembering the times he had been jeered traveling through towns on his seemingly fruitless quest. ¡°Every time I tracked you down, every time I got close to you¡­you did something to screw it up! No one is that unlucky!¡±

    The fairy dragon had a confused look on its face, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember the oil slick on the ground when I tracked you down to that smithy? Or the time my sword got caught in a fishing net hanging from the docks? Or the time that a housewife threw their nightsoil out on my head in that alley?!¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah! Those were hilarious! But that wasn¡¯t me, no sir.¡±

    ¡°Liar!¡±

    ¡°You can think that all you want.¡±

    Tristan kept his grip on the thing¡¯s throat, yanking it up with him as he stood. He did not want to talk with this thing anymore, because he was just getting worked up. And as far as he knew, it had some hidden means to return to the Mortal Realm. He had to focus on surviving this strange land. I need to find shelter, a source of food, and clean water.

    Surviving a century was a possibility, as he had no clue how long his lifespan would be. Half-Elves were a mystery in that regard because of how few and far-between they were. Sometimes they took after the human side, sometimes the Elven side. But he was the only one in his family, so he had nothing to compare against.

    He knew that traveling to and from the different Realms was possible. It was fairly common for some of the more settled Realms, such as the Heavenly, Giant, and Demon Realms ¨C though the last one was quite violent in its established cities. It nonetheless was under someone¡¯s control.

    As long as I survive, I can either force some type of alternate way to return from this thing, or re-read grandfather¡¯s manual to see if there¡¯s any notes about a way to get back¡­or I could wait it out and hope I live long enough. But first-

    ¡°Where can I find water?¡± he asked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have that here.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡± Tristan began walking towards a thin, blue line in the distance. ¡°That¡¯s obviously a river,¡± he said as he began to turn his feet and descend the hill they had arrived upon. To his surprise, he did not slip or slide at all. His feet felt sure in their steps. He could have sworn that the earth and dirt was slightly¡­shuffling out of the way to make his path less hazardous.

    In fact, the air seemed¡­cleaner, as well. Crisper, and as he focused on it, he could smell the sweet scent of cinnamon-baked apples like what they would have around the feast days. He paused in his descent and closed his eyes, hearing some soft instrument that seemed to dance just at the edge of his range of hearing. Even the air seemed to have a taste to it; something sweet.

    It was unnerving and soothing at the same time.

    ¡°Oh, that is interesting. I was wondering if that would happen or not.¡± The fairy dragon¡¯s voice pulled Tristan out of his short reverie. ¡°You should find a mirror.¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°And why should I do that?¡±

    ¡°Well, normally people like to know when their body changes spontaneously. I mean, you chased a fairy dragon for two years, so I don¡¯t think you¡¯re very norm-¡±

    Tristan felt panic, and drew his sword with his offhand, holding the blade up to his eye level. His normally brown eyes were a vibrant, glowing silver with luminescent, icy-blue irises, and golden pupils. His ears had elongated past his hair just like his mother had. And his skin was more lustrous. ¡°What in the hells happened to me?¡±

    ¡°Your bloodline is showing,¡± The fairy dragon stated with a giggle. ¡°Looks like the Elf side is pretty strong compared to the human side. I¡¯d argue it¡¯s fully pushed out the human blood, lucky you. Not like I¡¯m not a doctor or anything like that!¡±

    Tristan sheathed his sword, ¡°Fine, I¡¯m more Elf than human. That doesn¡¯t change anything about this situation. I still need water, food, shelter - and figure out some way to keep you locked up until this century passes.¡±

    Right now, survival is paramount¡­One benefit I suppose is if I am more Elf than human, I should be able to live long enough to get back. If I can set up a good basecamp here, then I can wait it out with this thing as my prisoner.

    The fairy dragon wriggled in his grip before giving out an exasperated sigh, ¡°You really don¡¯t get it, do you? You¡¯re in a place that no Elf has visited since the Great Exodus. Who cares about killing a fairy dragon for some stupid king¡¯s quest? You¡¯re making history! That¡¯s worth more reputation than returning some dumb metal stick.¡±

    Tristan¡¯s curiosity was piqued, and even though he kept walking to the river, he very slightly loosened his grip. Great Exodus? No one told me about that. I always thought that Elves came from across the sea from a sunken continent ¨C that¡¯s what mother always told me. But this¡­place¡­did Elves really come from here? ¡°When was that?¡±

    ¡°Twelve-thousand years, give or take. No person from any heritage has been here since!¡± The fairy dragon frowned slightly at that, ¡°And when The Matriarch finds out about you getting in here, I¡¯m going to be in big trouble!¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The Elves left because this Realm was dying! Your heritage was too populous, sucking up too much latent magical energy in the air. That¡¯s why your Elf traits came out so quickly after just a few minutes. It is literally suffusing you with magical power. A bunch of it gathered over ten-thousand years, plus some millennia.¡± She frowned, sniffed, and made a slightly disgusted face, ¡°Bleh! You still have some Human bloodline scent in you. The Elf side is sweet, like honey. But the Human side is like rancid meat ¨C that sickly sweet.¡±

    ¡°Probably the Dragonslayer bloodline,¡± Tristan muttered. Every person had a bloodline of some type ¨C often two unless they were inbred or one bloodline was far more dominant than the other one. His grandfather had created a bloodline when he slew, ate the meat of, and drank the blood of an Arch Dragon, a rare feat of strength and will. It is weird that she can smell my bloodline.

    Tristan felt a weird mix of emotions. Distrust because this thing had tricked him before, he was sure. And, apparently, it had also spied on him while he slept which just added insult to injury. A sense of believing in the creature because he had seen the physical changes with his eyes in the reflection of the blade. And also, an unease at being in a foreign Realm.

    But hidden under all of that was confidence. Something that felt like a rustling wind in his soul, scattering the leaves of his emotions about in a tumultuous tempest. What this fairy dragon was saying sounded right. Resonated with him on a deeper level than his conscious, waking mind could understand.

    ¡°All that unlucky stuff that kept happening to you? Might be because you were leaking magic into the environment without noticing. Or maybe because your Elf side kept fighting with your Human side. Half-breeds are weird.¡±

    ¡°If¡­I was leaking magic as you put it, then why didn¡¯t my lantern respond to it?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Beats me. Maybe it got used to your magical essence leaking all the time and just learned to ignore it?¡±

    Tristan reached the bottom of the hill and found to his surprise and odd delight that the ground was slightly springy. He bounced off of it and let out a brief laugh at the weird sensation of becoming a little lighter for a moment. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Jumpshrubs,¡± the fairy dragon replied. ¡°Good for traveling fast. It grows in open spaces.¡± It sighed, ¡°Look, I do like being manhandled now and again, but this ¡®grab me around the neck¡¯ thing is very uncomfortable. Mind letting me go?¡±

    Tristan looked down at the creature as he stopped his bounce-based travel across the plains, ¡°You¡¯re my only way to get back home in a century.¡±

    It groaned and wriggled, ¡°Why are you so stubborn! I can help you! Take you to visit The Matriarch. You¡¯re an Elf now, well, more Elf ¨C she is bound to help you.¡±

    Tristan eyed her suspiciously. It hasn¡¯t lied to me yet as far as I know¡­but just to be sure. ¡°Tell me how to get there, and if you¡¯re telling the truth, we get there and I¡¯ll let you go.¡±

    ¡°Okay, good! Making progress. Oh, I never caught your name.¡±

    ¡°Tristan Anorox.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Felicity Glimmerwing.¡±

 Chapter 3: Changes wrought by essence

    A few hours passed in relative silence. Tristan felt his stomach rumbling, and when he mentioned it, Felicity pointed out a series of what looked like berry bushes. Always cautious, Tristan fed one to her, gathered more, and waited thirty minutes. When no negative effects were evident, he tried one himself. She had the smuggest expression on her face.

    And for good reason. It was delicious. The tastiest food he had ever experienced. It tasted like the sweetest strawberry mixed with the tartness of a raspberry; but it was hearty and the flesh inside was substantial, like an apple. It filled him up fully despite only eating a handful of berries. He made sure to shove more into his provisions sack ¨C a lined bag that would preserve food for longer than burlap.

    Felicity must have seen the look on his face as he ate or heard his unintentional ¡®gods above¡¯ comment when he took his first bite. ¡°It tastes so good because this is the food your ancestors ate. They were vegetarians. All of the food in this Realm is tailored to your tastes and dietary needs.¡±

    So that¡¯s why meat never agreed with me, Tristan thought as he recalled many pain-filled nights after meals when his stomach rumbled and turned. Another reason why he was looked down upon by his siblings and the least favorite of his father¡¯s children. Nobles ate meat, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible.

    It had resulted in him being even more ostracized than he was already. Especially on court days where he would be among the other children of nobility. ¡°What could affect me in this place?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the first Elf to visit, so all of the essence that suffuses this place has been infused into you. It¡¯s what triggered your Elf bloodline to come out and¡­overpower your Human one. But that Human one is still there.¡± She looked at him with a curious expression, ¡°Not sure what that will do. Or what the rest of this essence surging into you is doing. Can you feel it?¡±

    ¡°Feel what?¡±

    ¡°Never mind then. Maybe The Matriarch can tell you more. What I can say is that it has been twelve-thousand years since an Elf visited.¡±

    It makes sense, he thought, why I feel so good right now. I don¡¯t feel sleepy at all.

    ¡°Who is this Matriarch exactly?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s amazing! The Realm Protector. If she wasn¡¯t here, then this whole place would be one of the Lost Realms.¡± She giggled, ¡°Plus, she¡¯s my mom. Well, she¡¯s a lot of the fairy dragons¡¯ mom. Not all of us, but most. But I¡¯m one of her favorites.¡±

    ¡°What else is this essence doing to me?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Well¡­just taking an educated guess because I am very smart¡­your body was fully shifted to your Elven heritage. If you don¡¯t feel an essence crucible in your torso right now¡­try something. Just close your eyes, and imagine a spinning ball in the center of your torso.¡±

    ¡°No tricks,¡± Tristan instructed as he still held Felicity by the neck ¨C gently, but enough that she couldn¡¯t wriggle free.

    ¡°I promise! I¡¯m interested to see where this goes.¡±

    He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Finding his center just as his grandfather had taught him to calm his nerves. Then, he envisioned a ball like the one some of the children at court used to hit with a wooden stick. Okay¡­now to try and spin it.

    The ball he was visualizing turned a silvery hue in his mind¡¯s eye, flecked with fractals of icy-blue. He could feel a soothing coolness spread through his chest, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a small aura of silvery light flowing from his hands. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Essence! The color is different for everyone. Fairy dragons get rainbows. Because we are the b-e-s-t best.¡±

    The swirling silvery substance faded into nothingness, but Tristan felt the¡­pulse of this essence crucible next to his heart, beating slightly out of time. It was unnerving, at first, but then the two began to synchronize and he could not notice it any more. ¡°Okay¡­what else is happening to me while I¡¯m here?¡±

    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re like the Elves that used to live here, enough exposure will improve your body and mind. Back then, there were tens of thousands of Elves, each getting a little bit of essence from the Realm. But you¡¯re getting all of it. Speed, strength, agility, how fast you can think, how fast you can react, your senses, even enhancing longevity.¡±

    ¡°How long would I live?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Ten-thousand years? More? Less? I¡¯m going off of knowledge I learned from The Matriarch here; not firsthand experience.¡± She sounded authentically excited despite her predicament being gripped by the neck.

    Mother said that Elves live to two-thousand years old on average¡­so if Felicity is right and telling the truth¡­I might live five times the lifespan of a normal Elf.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­a lot to take in,¡± Tristan replied. If she¡¯s telling the truth¡­I¡¯m going to live such a long life. He was only eighteen years old, and most of that was spent learning how to fight dragons ¨C partly book learning, partly using giant puppets that his grandfather had designed to train against the beasts.

    ¡°Well, yeah. You¡¯re the only thing here that can take in all that magic energy. Grow your essence crucible capacity to really big! Maybe as big as a Realm Protector, like The Matriarch! Most people die before it gets too big, though.¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Why do you fairy dragons leave, anyways? And where¡¯s¡­anything else? There are no other animals I¡¯ve seen. Or bugs.¡± It¡¯s been quiet except for us talking and my footfalls. Plus, the clattering of my gear.

    ¡°It¡¯s fun to get out and about. Living in a paradise can get boring, so traveling around in the Mortal Realm is like going on a vacation. Experiencing danger, possibly suffering injury? It¡¯s exciting!¡±

    Seems foolish, Tristan thought. If I lived in paradise I¡¯d never want to leave. ¡°What about other animals and bugs?¡±

    ¡°Only Elves lived here with the fairy dragons. We were companions. Your ancestors used to ride us around, when we got larger.¡± She wiggled a little in his grip, ¡°Yeah, nope. Not strong enough to lift you up.¡± She then growled slightly, ¡°Not that I¡¯d let you ride on me, anyways, you big meanie!¡±

    The idea of flying on dragonback was something that had never occurred to Tristan because they were terrifying beasts. Monstrosities of sinew and claw, covered in scales that only the strongest magic or specially artificed weaponry could harm. The idea of riding on one was terrifying¡­and yet the more he looked at the fairy dragons, the more he knew they weren¡¯t anything like the dragons from the Elemental Realms. These things were more like house pets with wings than a force of nature made of claws, teeth, and fury.

    He had trained his whole life to be a dragonslayer, and that continued to pull him away from that idea of riding a dragon. He sighed and kept bouncing along the odd mushroom-covered ground. The travel was comfortable, and his feet found sure footing every step. Like he was born to travel on these plants.

    It was second nature.

    <hr>

    They eventually got across the plains and to the river that Tristan had spotted from afar. Only, it was not a river with water. Some blue, viscous fluid filled it that was goopy and flowed not in a true stream but little, gelatinous chunks. It looked like a stew with no meat or potatoes in it; just chunky water. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s clearcool. Just take a sip.¡±

    Tristan once more thought better of blindly trusting Felicity, and dipped the creature¡¯s head down, ¡°You first.¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± she began extending a long tongue that transformed into a funnel before his eyes, and then loudly slurped up the liquid. ¡°Ahh! Refreshing.¡±

    Tristan leaned down, cupped his hand, and scooped up some of the weird, jelly-like substance. Taking a slight lick of it, he felt a rush of energy, and his thirst was instantly quenched. It was cooling, like a subtle mint, and he gobbled it down. The consistency was a little goopier than the puddings they would have on feast days, and yet it trickled down his throat like water.

    ¡°Just trust me, alright? You can trust me just fine.¡±

    Tristan wiped his mouth, ¡°Which direction?¡±

    ¡°Follow the river.¡± She sighed, ¡°Still planning on holding my neck this whole journey?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Until I talk to this Matriarch.¡±

    ¡°Fiiiine.¡±

    <hr>

    Tristan began to see more of the flying fairy dragons in the skies above. At first, he was a bit unsettled from the sheer number of them, but they were not anything like the pictures his grandfather showed him. The illustrations that the man had made. Those creatures were covered in armored scales, with muscles that could crush worked stone like a twig underfoot, whose teeth and claws were the length of swords and daggers.

    These things were like flying foxes. Rather cute and nonthreatening.

    They regarded him with curiosity, flying by and chatting with Felicity, cracking jokes at her that her new friend was into ¡®rough stuff¡¯. The female fairy dragon responded with withering, witty remarks and repartee that made Tristan chuckle from how over-the-top the insults were.

    He even went flush and red at the ears when they began using quite crude and foul language that the commoner class used. The jokes were scathing, and even bordered on the edge of atrocious. He found himself giggling and laughing at some of the raunchier jokes ¨C because he had never heard such foul terms and innuendo.

    Almost as if their joking nature was made for him. Which was odd, because he was never very amused by clowns, jesters, or court troupes on festival days.

    In fact, he was laughing more than he had ever laughed before.

    The sky began to shift to warmer, darker tones of crimson and brown. ¡°Night is falling,¡± Felicity shouted over the din of the other fairy dragons. ¡°Not that you need to sleep here. If you want to, though, the dreams are fantastic.¡±

    ¡°How much farther?¡±

    ¡°See that giant tree? That¡¯s where we live.¡±

    Tristan nodded and kept walking along the river towards the enormous tree in the distance. The whole time, he was asked questions by more fairy dragons. And their sizes varied; anywhere from the size of a mouse to that of a large dog.

    Part of him wanted to answer everything they said, but another part said that they were dragons and should not be trusted. He ignored them and kept walking, and Felicity engaged in some banter with them as Tristan continued.

    Soon enough he reached the base of the tree. It was gigantic, easily rising three hundred feet into the sky, and spreading out over the surrounding forest as if a protective umbrella. Flakes of snow were falling far up on the highest branches, but down on the ground it was the perfect temperature of spring¡¯s mid-thaw.

    There were knot holes all about, and the fairy dragons were congregating, laughing, making jokes, and using magic to create all manner of fantastic, artistic illusions. And he saw big fairy dragons. The size of horses. Dwarfing all of them, however, was one that looked just like Felicity; but it was the size of a small house.

    The creature eyed Tristan curiously and cracked a mischievous smile, ¡°Felicity, what did you bring home?¡±

    ¡°Half-Elf.¡±

    ¡°And why did you do that?¡±

    ¡°He was hunting me!¡±

    The enormous fairy dragon lowered her head, and Tristan instinctively went for his sword. She laughed, and her voice was deep and matronly, ¡°Half-Elf? You look like a full one. Must have had the human side pushed out of the way for the superior blood of your true lineage.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me how to get home without waiting one-hundred years?¡± Tristan asked what he assumed was The Matriarch.

    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to if you would let my daughter go. But we also have items to discuss, child of the Fey Realm.¡±

    Tristan immediately let Felicity loose, and she flapped up to one of the branches overhead, immediately gabbing with other fairy dragons and sharing about her heroic experience of fighting off his assault, and their years-long ¡®game of hide and seek¡¯. Tristan ignored her chatter. ¡°There, I let her go. Now hold up your end of the bargain.¡±

    The Matriarch raised her head slightly, ¡°I smell something on you. Something¡­ancient. What is your family name?¡±

    ¡°Anorox.¡±

    ¡°Father¡¯s side? Patriarchal society?¡±

    Tristan nodded. ¡°Yes. The father¡¯s name is passed down unless the mother¡¯s family is really prominent.¡±

    The Matriarch harrumphed and her face shifted from one of mischief to a serious demeanor. ¡°I assume that your mother did not come from prominence, then. Your blood¡­it smells¡­tell me your mother¡¯s family name - before she took her husband¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That one is Winterbloom.¡± The entire grove in front of the tree went silent. Every set of eyes stared at Tristan. ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡±

 Chapter 4: Winter blooms in blood

    The Matriarch bowed her head, as did every single fairy dragon. ¡°You do not know this,¡± she said solemnly, ¡°But the Winterbloom are the Elvish ladies and lords of old who created our species from magic and the essence of this Realm itself. The strongest of the four bloodlines¡­technically, this place belongs to you. You might be a distant, far-off relative of the bloodline¡­but that is the truth.¡±

    Tristan felt his heart skip a few beats and his breath caught in his lungs. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I knew I smelled the bloodline within you, but it has been so long.¡±

    ¡°But¡­this isn¡¯t my home. I came here so you could get me home.¡±

    She huffed and glared at him, and Tristan was immediately put on the defensive footing as his hand drifted to the pommel of the sword. ¡°As expected of a¡­Felicity what is this Human?¡±

    ¡°A dragonslayer,¡± she shouted back. ¡°Not that I¡¯ve ever seen him slay a dragon!¡±

    The Matriarch turned back to Tristan, ¡°You kill dragons?¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°I haven¡¯t yet. But the ones I was taught about do not look like you do.¡±

    The Matriarch¡¯s form shifted, and instead of facing a larger version of Tristan, he was now facing an enormous, black dragon. Four enormous, powerful legs that shook the ground, a pair of leathery wings that blotted out the sky, horns that protruded as vicious spikes from the crown of her forehead and covered with scales. A tail with a bladed protrusion upon the end whipped back and forth. Tristan drew his sword reflexively, as she chuckled. ¡°Like this?¡±

    Tristan gulped and gave the briefest of nods. Calm down, Tristan. You¡¯ve trained for this since you could hold a sword. It¡¯s just a dragon.

    But something tugged at him. This was not a dragon of the Elemental Realms¡­she had shifted before his very eyes. This is a trick of some type. An illusion. He put up his sword. ¡°You are tricking me, as all fairy dragons are rumored to do.¡±

    The Matriarch slammed her enormous claw next to him, faster than he could react, and her enormous teeth drew close to him. He was rooted in place. ¡°This does not feel real to you?¡± She opened her mouth, and he saw a glow of light in her throat.

    I¡¯m going to die, Tristan thought. Father was right. I¡¯m sorry, grandfather. He shut his eyes and prepared for the end. Despite all of his training, faced with the real thing, he was struck with fear. He tried to force his body to move, but it would not. Some primal fear response held him back.

    Instead of some gushing acid or petrifying cloud of smog, he was greeted by¡­laughter. Peeking his eyes open, he saw all of the fairy dragons raucously laughing.

    ¡°You got him good, mom!¡± Felicity shouted.

    ¡°Do you think he pissed himself? I think he pissed himself!¡± another one added.

    ¡°Matriarch! Show him!¡±

    The enormous black dragon before him, maw still open, expelled a blast of rainbows at Tristan. He could feel her hot breath that smelled like mint mixed with berries, and the colors shot out all around him before she pulled back and reverted to her enormous fairy dragon state. ¡°We can shapeshift. But we do not gain the breath weapon of our more violent cousins.¡±

    Tristan let out a slight chuckle, then a laugh, and he gripped his knees as he bent over and lost his lunch. He was trembling all over at the near-death experience ¨C well, perceived near-death experience ¨C and he struggled to maintain his composure.

    ¡°Now¡­young Winterbloom. You seek to return to The Mortal Realm?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes,¡± he mumbled out as he pushed himself upright to shaky feet.

    ¡°I have the means,¡± she held up a paw-claw, and upon it were several rings. ¡°These allow one with Elf blood to come and go from the Realm¡­but to earn this¡­you must prove yourself as a worthy successor of your heritage.¡±

    ¡°What do I have to do?¡± Tristan asked as his confidence came back a little bit.

    ¡°Come with me,¡± she ordered. She headed over to the left of the tree, and Tristan followed her cautiously. They went under the canopy of some trees, and her body shifted and morphed to enable her to walk in a straight line around the trunks. Tristan wound his way back and forth as necessary, eventually arriving at a large field.

    The fairy dragon turned to him and shifted once more to the shape of a black dragon. ¡°Children? Bring this Winterbloom a practice blade.¡±

    From his right, Tristan heard a dull thump on the grass of the clearing. Glancing down, he saw a wooden training sword had been thrown a little ways from him. Leaning down to pick it up, he felt the heft and noticed the steel color was none other than Adamant Wood ¨C one of the strongest materials with the strength of steel and a fraction of the weight. This would be worth a pretty penny, he thought.

    His attention was pulled back to The Matriarch as she let out an aggressive growl. ¡°Come at me, little dragonslayer. He who has the blood of Winterbloom flowing through his veins. Show me your prowess! Show that you are worthy to inherit the mantle of your legacy!¡±

    I¡¯ve prepared for this, he thought as his grip tightened. I¡¯ve trained for this. Just like when grandfather used the giant, metal puppets for us to practice on. He still felt some fear, because he was sure this creature could obliterate him with a single slash¡­but this is what he had trained most of his life for. I¡¯m a dragonslayer, just like grandfather. I can do this. He took a deep breath and sprinted forward. All the fear from before was still there, but he pushed it back, knowing that this was some type of trial; his life wasn¡¯t really on the line. And that little bit of knowledge kept the terror at bay.

    The Matriarch pulled her left foreclaw back and swept it in a large arc. Tristan immediately recognized the action and knew how to counter it, letting years of muscle memory come into play as he faced the incoming swipe, leveraged his weight onto the balls of his feet, and braced the sword in front of him with both hands ¨C one on the flat of the blade, one on the hilt ¨C with arms bent ever so slightly.

    The claw appendage slammed into the flat of the blade, and the moment it impacted, he jumped up with as much force as he could. Using the blade as a fulcrum, he flipped over the outstretched limb and landed on his feet. Running along the now-overextended appendage, he jumped up onto the shoulder of the dragon. He was grinning; not just because he had successfully evaded an attack ¨C but that years of practice against dragon-sized puppets had actually prepared him for the real deal. That terror that was festering in him began to fade away as his prowess and training came to the forefront.

    Grandfather sure knows what he¡¯s doing, Tristan thought as he used one of the horns to pull himself up onto the shoulder joint. The Matriarch let out a roar and began flapping to take to the skies. Tristan reacted by driving his armored elbow into the spot right next to the crown ¨C where the ear canal was hidden just behind a cluster of smaller, more flexible scales. Once that elbow was in place, he slammed the practice sword against his vambrace, causing a ringing noise that traveled down and into the dragon¡¯s ear.

    It made her balance falter, and she did not take off flying ¨C instead staggering sideways. Tristan used the horns to pull himself atop her neck and turned around, hugging the trunk of her sinuous length with his thighs. The weak spot is there! He thought as he saw the enormous mass of flesh. The most muscular and well-protected area.

    But, beneath those scales and the muscle was the heart. Far higher up on a dragon compared to other creatures, and in the most protected place ¨C if a dragon was attacked from above, they were as good as dead. If I used my real sword, he thought, I could stab right down and kill her. But I¡¯m just proving my worth.

    Her weight shifted, and Tristan went falling to the side as she rolled. He reached out with his offhand and grabbed one of the spiked horns along her spine. Wait until she¡¯s at the end of the roll, he thought as he remembered his training and let it guide his motions. As she got onto her back, he got to his feet and ran in the other direction; staying atop her as she finished upright. And he was right back next to her weak spot. He stabbed the practice blade into the spot, ¡°I win!¡± he shouted, heaving with exertion from the intense, short fight.

    She growled and Tristan was left floating in the air for a second before he slammed onto the ground ¨C she had shifted into a tiny, regular-fairy-dragon size before zipping out from under him. As he pushed himself up and winced from his bruised tailbone, she resumed her larger size and let out a barking laugh. ¡°You are a dragonslayer. Right for the weak spot. And that acrobatic move¡­that was impressive. Zeltana¡¯s blood runs through your veins.¡±

    The Matriarch raised her head slightly but kept it under Tristan¡¯s head level. ¡°You are welcome to come and go as you please.¡± She moved her enormous, clawed front leg that was the size of an ox cart, and there were several rings upon the claws. ¡°Take one.¡±

    Tristan grabbed one of the rings and pulled it off. It shrunk in his palm down to his finger¡¯s size, ¡°What does it do?¡± He dropped the practice sword as he moved his other hand back to his buttocks and rubbed the bruised skin.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°This is a Fey Realm Ring. An item of artifice. Imbue it with your essence, and you will be able to open a portal here. It cannot be used more than once every twenty-four hours and takes an hour to activate from the Mortal Realm. If activated while here, you instantly travel away.¡±

    ¡°Thanks¡­I¡¯m guessing this means I passed?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± The Matriarch replied. ¡°At least this trial. One more awaits. But that is only if you wish to claim your birthright. If you wish to leave, you may do so, now, with that ring.¡±

    I¡­this is where mother¡¯s people came from. I¡¯m already here¡­I should see what else there is to learn. ¡°I¡¯ll try this other trial. But why are my mother¡¯s people so well regarded here?¡±

    Felicity groaned, ¡°Are you not listening, dummy? You are literal royalty here! The only way you could command more respect is if you were a woman. Not that I care too much, you¡¯re still a dum-¡±

    The Matriarch whipped her head around and admonished Felicity in a deep, terrifying growl that shook Tristan to the bone. ¡°We do not call his bloodline dummy, daughter.¡± Felicity deflated a bit and grumbled, and The Matriarch turned back to Tristan. ¡°Come with me.¡± The Matriarch stood and went back through the forest and into the tree. Tristan followed her, sheathing his sword as he took off his gauntlet, slipped the ring onto his finger, and watched as it resized to fit him. He wriggled his hand back into the gauntlet.

    Items of artifice were not unknown to him; in fact his sword and armor were such items. Even without essence ¨C which up until now, he did not have ¨C they would operate at a fraction of their power.

    Maybe with essence, my armor and sword have some effect I can activate that I couldn¡¯t use before. I¡¯ll have to experiment with that.

    Looking down at the gauntlet again, he noticed that he had become a bit slimmer. He still felt strong ¨C in fact, he felt stronger than ever before as he flexed muscles against taut skin. But he was wirier now. And I guess pushing out my Human side changed my body, too.

    One would think that having their body changed against their will would be a shocking change¡­but Tristan felt good. Better than he ever had before. So the changes were not disconcerting. Minus the bruised tailbone, and the general tiredness from such vigorous physical activity.

    The interior of the tree was a cavernous, hollow space. She led him down a spiraling ramp that led under the roots and into caverns below. Whereas the tree above looked like it was designed for fairy dragons with plentiful perches and nests of colorful feathers, down here the earthen walls and roots were formed and molded into pristine, high-quality tunnels.

    ¡°Before the Essence Surge when our Realm connected with the Prime Realm, the Elves lived here. Well, the Winterbloom, at least, lived here, at the Queen¡¯s Wood.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. Prime Realm? I¡¯ve never heard of that one.¡±

    The Matriarch laughed, ¡°Another time, perhaps. I do not wish to overburden you with new insights so soon.¡±

    I am getting a lot of information all at once. Better to take it little by little to really understand it. She is wise.

    Being methodical was one of his most beneficial traits ¨C something his grandfather had instilled in him from a young age. ¡°Always fully understand before committing to action,¡± were the words passed down to Tristan and hammered into his mind. Plus, I can return here any time to learn more. Once I¡¯ve digested all this information. And talked to mother. And grandfather.

    ¡°Come, we go to the vault.¡± She began leading the way and commented as she walked, ¡°Since stepping foot in this Realm and being infused by its essence that has been gathering for so long ¨C you¡¯re effectively full-blooded. The racial traits of your Human heritage are being suppressed. That does mean you have inherited the restrictions of your superior Elven side.¡±

    Tristan knew that certain heritages were restricted to certain spell types, but he had little clue about the specifics; except that Humans were the only heritage that had no such restriction on spell types.

    Half-breed children, which were only possible between Humans and another heritage, could manifest physical traits of their parentage. But, when that happened, they would also inherit the restrictions inhibiting spell versatility.

    Depending on the kingdom, half-breeds were welcomed but in other locales they were shunned. Half-breeds did not begin to show those physical traits until their late childhood. And often, those physical traits more than compensated for their lack of essence-weaving versatility. Especially since essence-weavers were somewhat rare.

    Bloodlines were more common knowledge, and Tristan was well-versed in that lore. Every person had at least one, and sometimes two. Bloodlines enabled a person to bypass the restriction on their heritage for a single, specific spell type¡­if they had enough essence to use a spell in the first place.

    Plus, bloodlines enabled the person with it to use Eleventh Order or higher Order spells; but only for that specific spell type. All the others were capped at Tenth Order. That meant a Human essence-weaver without any bloodline would be able to use any spell of the Tenth Order, but never above that. Some ancient rule of creation enforced that decree.

    He recalled one of his mother¡¯s lessons on essence-weaving, hoping that he had some knack for it like she did. Her calm, entrancing voice was always slightly muted by the artificed choker she wore.

    ¡°A Drakonid from the Elemental Realm of Light would normally be unable to use shadow elementalism, as their heritage does not allow for such spell use. But, if they were Half-Drakonid, and had a bloodline that gave access to shadow elementalism from their Human side, they could bypass their racial restriction on spell types to use that type, and use above Tenth Order spells. You, my little sapling, are going to be a great mage!¡±

    The memory brought warmth to his chest. His mother was the most important person in his life, save maybe for his grandfather. His grandfather, who passed on a prestigious bloodline through Fawkes ¨C Tristan¡¯s father ¨C and down to him.

    Tristan knew that his grandfather¡¯s bloodline, the Dragonslayer, was wholly unique, with its own custom spell type created by the man that enabled them to siphon the power from those creatures when slain and eaten. No one else in the world except his grandfather, his father, and his half-siblings had it ¨C or even had knowledge of it. The family¡¯s best-kept secret. The dragonbane spell type.

    He had no clue what Winterbloom gave him access to. Ice was a reasonable guess, but it could be something to do with plants with the ¡®bloom¡¯ part. I¡¯ll need to ask about that when I have a chance, he thought.

    And he had no real talent or capacity for essence-weaving, he never asked his mother what his Elven sides¡¯ spell-type restrictions were. Something I should ask sooner rather than later since I have access to magic, now, he thought.

    That thought filled him with a giddy sense of anticipation that far overshadowed any type of anxiety or uncertainty from his current predicament. The idea that he could be a user of essence-weaving, use spells, and the revelation of this new bloodline were all filling him up with a profound sense of wonder that eclipsed any worry.

    Shaking himself out of his reverie, he saw he had fallen a little behind and The Matriarch had turned to wait patiently. Tristan followed, his mind stilling as he marveled at the architecture. The environment spoke to him, called to him, making him feel right at home. Something about the walls, the very roots of the trees, resonated in him.

    He stopped once more, and The Matriarch waited patiently, as he took in a mural that was carved into the earthworks. It depicted what he assumed was the Great Exodus, as he saw an enormous group of people venturing through a portal on a hill. There were intricate details seemingly molded into the wood, and he found his fingers tracing the outline of a heavily armored individual holding some type of artifact as she led the group into the portal.

    Once he had taken in his fill of staring at the mural, he looked at The Matriarch and gestured for her to proceed.

    Felicity flew up from behind Tristan and landed on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly. ¡°I just wanted to see you fail,¡± Felicity whispered, tauntingly. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see the look on your face when you don¡¯t open up the vault.¡±

    Tristan ignored her and just brushed her off her shoulder perch. The Matriarch led him to an enormous door made of stone; with swirls of a language he did not recognize. But as he focused, he saw the shapes reorganize themselves into letters he could read.

    Kuningattaren holvi. (The Queen¡¯s Vault).

    ¡°How come I can read that weird, squiggly language?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an Elf,¡± Felicity replied. ¡°Elves know their language as well as they know their own body. You can read it because it is part of you. Duh. You¡¯re lucky that we¡¯re talking to you in Standard Tongue.¡±

    Tristan smirked. ¡°Tied?n muutakin kuin tavallisen kielen. Ja koska olen kuninkaallinen, teid?n pit?isi osoittaa minulle enemm?n kunnioitusta.¡± (I know more than just the standard tongue. And since I''m royalty, you should show me more respect).

    He knew a few languages; more than most, due to his odd upbringing. Standard Tongue which is what most people on the Mortal Realm spoke, Dragon¡¯s Tongue so he could determine what dragons were saying, Demon¡¯s Tongue as that was the language of the court of Bhant due to the ruler¡¯s lineage, and Elvish. He could read and write all the languages save for Elvish ¨C as his mother did not know how to read or write in the language; only speak it.

    Felicity¡¯s coloration went beet-red, and The Matriarch looked quite surprised, but still spoke in Standard Tongue. ¡°Your mother taught you, I suppose? How to speak, but not to read?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Tristan said with a smirk, as he looked over at Felicity and projected his smugness as best as he could. ¡°She wanted me to preserve her culture. She couldn¡¯t write.¡±

    ¡°You will be able to write your heritage¡¯s native tongue just as well as you can read it.¡± The Matriarch gestured to the door, ¡°For now, place your hands upon the spiral and focus on pouring your essence into the structure. Envision a stream of water, or a current of air, flowing from your torso, down your arms, and into your hands. This is the last trial I will subject you to.¡±

    The Matriarch stood aside. ¡°This must be done in one surge. You either have enough essence capacity to unlock the vault door or will need to wait until you develop further. And¡­you will experience pain throughout your body. As this is your first time doing something equivalent to a spell ¨C infusing essence into an artificed item¡­you will feel pain. Agonizing, all-encompassing pain.¡± She spared him a sidelong glance, ¡°Last chance to back out, if you wish to leave this Realm, you may do so. But then you forsake your mother¡¯s heritage.¡±

    Tristan put his hands on the object. It felt warm, welcoming, as if an old friend who had been sitting on the porch, waiting for his companion to arrive for a visit. I¡¯ve dealt with pain before, he thought as he recalled his father¡¯s beatings with vivid clarity. If this¡­trial is going to do something to help me in the future, I should do it.

    He felt a swirling tornado of energy in his chest. It surged through his whole body, and he gasped in pain, as if someone had just stuck tiny pins and needles into every part of him. But that was only the start of his agony.

    He was rooted in place and he let out a scream as his arms felt like they were being ripped apart. Limb from limb. It was worse than when he had broken his leg and the bone had protruded. Worse than when his sister pushed him into an anthill on a visit to their countryside estate. It was not just piercing, cutting, or breaking ¨C but every type of pain imaginable was inflicted upon him in a brief moment.

    His whole existence was nothing but suffering as the riotous heat and icy cold ran through his whole body in waves. He let out a gasp and tried to suck in air, but could feel nothing. He was glued in place, victim to a folly of his own creation as his essence flowed throughout his body. It tore a path through his whole body. Every single nerve was alternating between being pressed upon a hot stove and frozen in an icy tundra. He couldn¡¯t hear, as a roaring wind filled his head.

    His sight began to flicker in and out of view ¨C going black, then silver, then icy-blue, and then back to normal. He felt the tears pouring down his face, and would have screamed if air was able to reach his lungs. I need it to end! was the single thought that pierced through the agony. A sliver of refreshing, cool essence that stabbed into his chest. The same cooling, soothing power flushed through his body and cleansed him of the pain in an instant.

    He saw a surge of silvery light flow from his hands and into the spiral, filling it up slowly.

 Chapter 5: Failing and setting goals

    The spiral only filled halfway before he collapsed, exhausted, panting from the exertion as if he had been working out in full plate armor for five laps around the training yard. The spiral instantly vanished. Thankfully, the pain was completely gone.

    ¡°Ah, unfortunate, but not unexpected. Your essence is not plentiful enough,¡± The Matriarch stated. ¡°It just means you must return for your birthright at a later time.¡± She smiled, ¡°And you have completed the trial.¡±

    ¡°Haha!¡± Felicity laughed as she flew around Tristan¡¯s head, and this earned a swift slap from The Matriarch¡¯s tail, launching the smaller fairy dragon to the floor next to Tristan.

    ¡°Do not insult those of the royal blood.¡±

    ¡°But mooooom! He¡¯s cut off my wing! It hurt! I had to regrow a whole wing!¡±

    The Matriarch growled, ¡°You are lucky that is all he did to you, foolish child. He has every right to completely tear you to pieces, if he has a mind for it.¡± She reached a massive claw down, extending one of the fingers to help Tristan stand on shaky legs. ¡°Lord Tristan. I apologize for my daughter¡¯s behavior.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Tristan said in between shaky breaths as the ground felt solid under him once more. Lord Tristan? Why did she call me that?

    He felt elated for two reasons. The first was that this Matriarch was on his side as this smaller, pesky fairy dragon tried to rib him. The second and more important one was the thought that he had used actual essence and was able to use magic. It overshadowed any negative emotions he might have felt at not unlocking this door. ¡°How long does it take for my essence to regenerate?¡±

    ¡°Quickly. Faster if you rest. The other heritages generally regain their essence much slower. Elves are natural essence-weavers. Not as physically strong as others, but through artifice and imbuement spell types, you will compensate. You are much faster than other elfanoids, though; and more dexterous.¡±

    ¡°What spells types are Elves restricted to?¡± Also, Tristan thought, note to self ¨C fairy dragons view everyone as elfanoid, not humanoid.

    The Matriarch rattled off a list, ¡°Illusions, flora, imbuement, artifice, enchantment, and fortune.¡± She smiled, ¡°Not to mention your bloodline also gives you access to ice elementalism. Winterbloom is not just a name for the sake of a name; it is the energy coursing through your body.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­wow. I don¡¯t know what half of those mean.

    The smile became a thin, drawn line as her tone shifted. ¡°You are limited, however, and cannot just do anything you desire. What you are determines what you may do with your essence, and how you can use it.¡±

    ¡°Right, I know that part,¡± Tristan said. ¡°Speaking of what I am, my mother said that Elves came from across the sea, from a sunken kingdom. But they come from this place, this Realm, if what you¡¯ve said is true ¨C and it does sound true. Was she lying to me?¡±

    ¡°It is feasible that the Elves arrived on a different continent of the Mortal Realm before moving to their now-home. How old was your mother?¡±

    ¡°I¡­I never asked,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I can ask her when I get home, though.¡±

    ¡°Most Elves live two-thousand years, give or take a few hundred. I would guess she did come from across the ocean to where she currently resides, since she is not one of those who left on the Great Exodus.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­Felicity mentioned that I might live tens of thousands of years, but I guess that is not the norm for my heritage, right?¡±

    The Matriarch nodded, ¡°That is accurate. The Winterbloom bloodline is potent, and the most receptive to the essence of the Fey Realm. May I try an Eighth Order spell on you to see if I can discern something?¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± Tristan replied. Eighth Order? The highest spell Gisele ever used was First Order. Bertram never got above Second!

    The Matriarch raised her large foreleg over Tristan¡¯s head and began speaking. ¡°This spell is called Elf Nature Invocation. It can be cast at any Order but by spending more essence you increase the Order rank, and the information you receive. Paljasta minulle t?m?n haltian el?m?n pituus.¡± (Reveal to me the length of life of this elf). This Elvish phrase was accompanied by a motion of the claw-tips into the shape of a circle, with the equivalent of the ¡®index¡¯ finger tucked in to the palm.

    The air seemed to be still, and Tristan saw a burst of sparking, almost lightning-like, pink energy trickling from the edges of the enormous fairy dragon¡¯s eyes.

    There was a vibrant, rainbow glow that cascaded from her claw and formed a stream that trickled onto Tristan¡¯s head. He felt the odd liquid almost like goop through his hair. He wanted to say something about the texture, but the sheer thought that he was being subjected to an Eighth Order spell was keeping him silent through the sticky process.

    A moment later the substance vanished, and Tristan could not feel it on him. The Matriarch grinned broadly, ¡°I figured as much.¡±

    ¡°Why speak in Elvish?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°It is my natural language, Lord Tristan. And in your case, I would recommend using Elvish for your spells as well. It keeps foes guessing.¡±

    ¡°How long until he dies?¡± Felicity asked as she returned to her usual coloration.

    The Matriarch shot her a glowering stare before turning back to Tristan, ¡°Your base lifespan is ten-thousand years. However, Winterbloom are normally far longer lived than that, and this spell confirmed my suspicions. As long as you come here to the Fey Realm once a year to rejuvenate yourself, and you do not die of disease or injury, you could live even longer. Especially if you cultivate your essence crucible through spinning it or harvesting the capacity of others.¡± She smiled softly, ¡°It will be good to have a Lord or Lady of the Fey Realm once more. A ruler to help improve things around here¡­and someone to serve after years of not having one worthy of our servitude.¡±

    Tristan was floored ¨C not by the whole part about being a Lord of the Fey Realm¡­but the life span. I¡­I could live longer than the Kingdom of Bhant has been around? Longer than history goes back? The thought was not just sobering but also humbling, making him feel the whole weight of the situation that he now found himself in. Long-lost royalty of a non-Mortal Realm heritage.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way¡­¡±

    ¡°No way of what?¡± The Matriarch asked.

    Tristan put his hand on his chest, feeling the sturdy armor plate under his gauntlet. ¡°I¡¯ve never been the special one in my family. Hell, my father did not even want me. I was the unexpected child.¡±

    The Matriarch frowned and even Felicity made a slight disappointed noise. ¡°That is¡­sad to hear,¡± The Matriarch softly said. ¡°But you are special, Lord Tristan.¡±

    Just because of who my mother is? Not because of anything I¡¯ve done or worked towards. Just happenstance? He shook his head, ¡°I¡­Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m not going to look the gift-chimera in the lion-head, but this¡­it¡¯s so much, so fast.¡±

    He took a deep, shaky breath. ¡°I¡­I want this. I want to be special. But I want to achieve it. Not just¡­be given it. My grandfather made a name for himself, founded our noble house, even made his own bloodline from eating an Arch Dragon in its Elemental Realm! I need to live up to that legacy.¡±

    The Matriarch nodded, and her claw shifted to a human-sized hand as she gently set it on his shoulder, ¡°¡­Lord Tristan. Your bloodline is a part of you. If you must achieve greatness to prove that you are indeed special, then you should do that. Whatever you need, whatever you require to reach your full potential ¨C we are your ever faithful servants. It is what we were made for. It is as much a part of us as our sense of whimsy and wonder.¡±

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    Tristan didn¡¯t know what to feel. Honored, in a way, that he was being given such deference. Unworthy, in a way, since he did not do anything to deserve it. But there was another emotion, lingering beneath the surface that he had suppressed his whole life because he was the unwanted tertiary heir whose only purpose was to be married off to another noble house to strengthen his family¡¯s ties to the kingdom.

    He felt pride.

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I¡¯m¡­at a bit of a loss, though. What do I do now? I failed my king¡¯s quest since I didn¡¯t bring back a fairy dragon.¡±

    ¡°What did he require?¡±

    Tristan tapped the scepter in his belt loop, ¡°This, and the corpse of the creature that did it.¡±

    ¡°Do you need a corpse?¡±

    Weird question, but yeah. Tristan nodded, ¡°Don¡¯t go killing one of your own for me, though.¡±

    ¡°We have a graveyard of our kind ¨C it is rare, but sometimes it happens. A few are relatively fresh. I am sure they would be more than happy to know that their remains went to help you in your journey.¡±

    Tristan felt slightly disturbed by that willingness to just give up their dead, but he nodded nonetheless. ¡°Thanks, let¡¯s do that.¡± He bowed his head slightly, ¡°You¡¯ve been very helpful, and I am sorry for being so suspicious. But, well, when you¡¯ve been trained to hunt dragons¡­it¡¯s hard to trust them.¡±

    ¡°I completely understand. And as for suspicious, Lord Tristan, you¡¯ve been quite the reasonable visitor.¡±

    Tristan nodded and looked around, ¡°I need to go home. But I want to come back and learn more. I just¡­it¡¯s a lot at once.¡±

    He needed to return to a place that was familiar to deal with all of this. He needed to talk to his mother and grandfather. And relax a bit. After all, he¡¯d been on a quest almost constantly chasing a fairy dragon across the kingdom for two years. And there¡¯s all this information about spells, these different types that I have no clue about, how to use them, that whole vault situation¡­I just need to have a bit of time to decompress.

    ¡°Of course. Let us prepare you for your return journey, Lord Tristan.¡±

    Checking his hip pouch, he felt the comfort of the family¡¯s noble crest; an amulet on a small chain. The symbol of their house, a draconic neck and head in side-profile, with a sword through it. When I get home, I can at least prove who I am despite my changed appearance. His reception at the family¡¯s ancestral home was also a concern ¨C but he¡¯d cross that bridge when he got to it. I could always go to the countryside estate and send word to mother and grandfather.

    ¡°Just remember that this is also your home, my liege. Your true home,¡± The Matriarch replied. ¡°Even though you are male, you are still of the royal bloodline. You may stay as long as you desire.¡± She paused, ¡°Well, if you exerted your essence every day. If you did not, you would suffer essence sickness after a day¡¯s time.¡± Her eyes narrowed, ¡°And you would not be permitted to stay for longer than a Season, for reasons that will be revealed in the future¡­when you are ready for them.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t just stay here¡­I was raised as a dragonslayer. It¡¯s what I am supposed to do. Protect the Mortal Realm from the dragon species of the Elemental Realms. If I¡¯m this unique, special bloodline of Elven rulers, I need to earn that.¡±

    Tristan felt that almost as strongly as he did the desire to see what was behind that vault door. Whatever it was that was promised to his Winterbloom bloodline. He felt, he knew, with every fiber of his being, that he would not be satisfied until he acquired what was inside the vault.

    Tristan was supremely confident that he could fight an actual dragon if he had the chance, as he¡¯d been taught to do. After all, he was trained by the man who entered the Elemental Realm of Fire and slain the Arch Dragon who resided there. A man who forged his own bloodline. He was a legend. I have to live up to his expectations.

    ¡°Then I have a proposal for your path to growth, my lord. I would advise you to return to your Realm, complete this quest you speak of, and then set off on your own to defeat creatures to increase your essence capacity ¨C dragons included. In that way, you may have enough power to unlock this door and claim the items within. I am sure whatever lies within will be valuable.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the advice.¡±

    She looked over at Felicity who was lifting herself, ¡°And my daughter will be happy to accompany you to assist you in any way. She has an extradimensional storage space as all our kind do. And, despite her impertinence, she is a fount of knowledge when it comes to your lineage, your capabilities of spell types as an Elf, and Mortal Realm lore.¡±

    Tristan glanced sideways at the fairy dragon who gave him an exasperated look. ¡°I am not really a fan of Felicity,¡± he commented. ¡°And I don¡¯t want any negative feelings coming my way from a travel companion.¡±

    ¡°The feeling is mutual,¡± Felicity snapped back.

    The Matriarch sighed, ¡°I cannot force you to accept assistance, my Lord Tristan, and we do have other fairy dragons who would be more than willing to accompany you if you requested. But Felicity has been in the Mortal Realm for the past ten years. Others of our kind are out there, but I do not know when one will come back. She has the best idea of what that Realm is like in whatever era it is in.¡±

    ¡°I can come back here any time, right? With this ring? If, for example, I got pissed off at Felicity and wanted to have another fairy dragon accompany me?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Correct. One hour to channel the essence. Remember that you will depart from and arrive at the same location in both Realms. And yes on obtaining a new companion, although my daughter better mind her manners if she knows what is good for her!¡±

    This earned a slight deflation and groan like a bratty teenager from Felicity, but she kept her mouth shut.

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Then I will follow your insightful direction. I want whatever is behind that door.¡± And if it¡¯s super-powerful weapons and armor, then I can show up Bertram and Gisele. Maybe even go into an Elemental Realm portal and fight one of the Arch Dragons like grandfather! Forge my own bloodline, even? Fusing this Winterbloom and the Dragonslayer ones? Now that is a heroic goal!

    ¡°I¡¯m going to return home, talk to my mom, and then¨C wait a second. Could I bring her here?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°You could. She would then outrank you, as females of the Winterbloom are more highly regarded than males. Anyone touching you can travel with you with the Ring¡¯s power. I urge caution, though, for non-Elf heritages. None have visited the Fey Realm before, and I do not know what would happen.¡±

    He looked over at Felicity, ¡°¡­I owe you an apology. I am sorry. If we are going to travel together, I owe you that much.¡±

    ¡°About time!¡± She replied. ¡°I don¡¯t forgi-¡± a guttural growl from The Matriarch echoed through the space, and Felicity shook in fear, gulping audibly. ¡°I forgive you,¡± she muttered. ¡°But no more cutting me. And definitely no choking, hear me? I only get choked by people I let choke me!¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°As long as you don¡¯t do any weird, tricky magic with me. Like that fruit rind.¡±

    ¡°I told you that wasn¡¯t me!¡±

    The Matriarch cleared her throat, returning the two¡¯s attention to her. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you a corpse you can return home with.¡±

    <hr>

    Tristan was standing in front of the tree in a small, dirt circle surrounded by green and blue grass that waved gently in the breeze. He had a small, burlap sack with the corpse of an elderly fairy dragon inside it - which discomforted him slightly, but he wanted to complete this quest, regardless.

    The reason for this location is that this would be his return-point. Where he would come back to when he departed the Mortal Realm again. Glancing around, he felt a little overwhelmed as the fairy dragons all bowed their heads as they perched on their limbs. He¡¯d never been the object of reverence before, but it felt¡­awkward and amazing at the same time. This must be how grandfather felt when he brought back the Arch Dragon¡¯s head.

    The man had elevated the family to minor nobility through his actions. Without Tristan¡¯s grandfather, they would not have their prestige, their house, their bloodline and unique spell type, or the respect that enabled them to travel to court every week. He was Tristan¡¯s role model. I¡¯m going to bag myself an Arch Dragon, just like him.

    Felicity was perched on his shoulder, grumbling slightly under her breath. She waved her front, right paw, and the burlap sack in Tristan¡¯s hand vanished with a slight pop as reality distorted around it. ¡°I can do other stuff,¡± she stated.

    ¡°Spells?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Sort of? I don¡¯t have to say anything to do them. They are just a part of me.¡± She held up her paw and it turned into a human hand with five fingers. ¡°I can shapeshift, turn invisible, and do the extradimensional storage space. It can¡¯t store an unlimited number of items, but it is pretty large in there!¡±

    Tristan¡¯s attention was drawn to the front as The Matriarch emerged from the enormous tree, and she gestured as a pair of smaller, dog-sized fairy dragons flew over with a cloak that was silver with icy-blue thread and fastened it around his armor. They flew up and away, perching on branches and joining their fellows in bowing.

    ¡°Remember,¡± The Matriarch stated, ¡°You will return to the place you arrived and left from in either the Fey Realm or the Mortal Realm. Return when you think you have enough essence to open the vault, or if you need a refuge. The cloak is a symbol of your office. Only fairy dragons and the most learned people will know what it means. And only you can wear it ¨C the same goes for the ring: they are bound to you now. If another person tries to wear either, they will suffer a horrific fate. Wear them with pride, Lord Tristan.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Thank you, for everything. This is a lot to take in¡­but I swear I¡¯ll return and open that vault.¡±

    ¡°It is your right. We await your return and to serve you, my lord.¡±

    I¡¯ll show them all. Bertram and Gisele? I¡¯m going to be more famous than either of you. Turn in this corpse and return the king¡¯s scepter, kill some monsters and dragons. That¡¯ll show them all that I¡¯m not just some useless third child!

    Tristan felt confidence. Assured in his set of short-term goals. I will earn this new power. I¡¯m not taking it for granted. And I¡¯m going to become strong enough to claim whatever is in that vault. It¡¯s mine by right, and I want to get in there.

    He channeled essence down his arm, into his hand, and the ring upon it. The world turned white around him.

 Chapter 6: Returning to the Mortal Realm

    Reality snapped back into place around Tristan as the white vanished and he once more was in the muddy cornfield. In the same circle he had left from. It was some time in the night, and the stars above were visible against their deep, blue and black tapestry. The five moons, called the Fingers of Night, were all aloft in their formation. Deep, silvery spheres that had always fascinated Tristan when he was a child.

    Felicity tapped his head with her paw-claw, ¡°Hey, dingus. Let¡¯s get one thing straight; we are not friends. Okay?¡±

    Tristan nodded curtly, ¡°Fine by me.¡± He began making his way out of the corn field and back to the road, following the path of trampled vegetation. He saw the corn he had stepped on in his approach, and it looked slightly rotten. ¡°How long passes in the Fey Realm compared to here?¡±

    ¡°Same amount of time,¡± Felicity said with a sigh. ¡°Makers of old, I¡¯m going to have to teach you everything about the place you come from, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    No, I actually am pretty book smart about the Mortal Realm, Tristan thought. Just not other Realms¡­except in regard to the dangers of the Elemental Realms. Those were the places where dragons came from, and his grandfather had made sure in his manual to write down every danger signal, every sign of something being ¡®off¡¯, that he could find. ¡°Let¡¯s just focus on traveling, okay?¡±

    ¡°Right. Turning invisible.¡± There was a small mirage of magic at play in the air¡­but Felicity was still there.

    ¡°What gives? I can see you.¡±

    She sighed, ¡°Ugh. Like teaching a baby! Elves and fairy dragons can see fairy dragons and Elves. Regardless of spells at play. But only full-blooded elves¡­or I guess you, since you¡¯re basically the equivalent.¡±

    Good to know. Tristan left the cornfield behind, got to the main road and looked down the stretch leading back to the nearby village. The scent of stirred-up mud and the fields of crops wafted gently through the warm breeze. Which was surprising, because it was just at the middle of spring in a cooler region. ¡°Do Elves have more tolerance for temperature?¡±

    ¡°Winterbloom didn¡¯t give you the hint you needed? Cold weather will never bother you. You could be naked in the snow and be just fine.¡±

    Tristan let out an unintentional chuckle at that, ¡°Who would ever go naked in the snow?¡±

    ¡°Your ancestors, that¡¯s who.¡±

    He began trudging along the road towards the town a few hours away. ¡°Okay miss know-it-all. Tell me what each spell type my Elf side does.¡±

    Over the next few hours Felicity delivered a detailed explanation that completely absorbed Tristan¡¯s attention as they traveled. Every different spell type he had access to as an Elf. And he knew that the ones she did not speak of were not available to him due to the heritage restrictions.

    Illusion was the first one she raved about. Spells of that type, she explained, were able to alter reality slightly by putting a ¡®shroud¡¯ over it that would distort how the senses perceived something. The easiest, and least essence-intensive of the senses to trick was a person¡¯s sense of sight. Followed by hearing, smell, taste, and finally touch. ¡°The touch-based illusions are all Ninth and Tenth Order spells, because at that point you¡¯re fabricating reality in a way.¡±

    ¡°Can you break an illusion?¡±

    ¡°Sight-based? Yes; you just touch them, and once your mind processes that it is not really there, then you can see through it. Like when you hold your hand right in front of your face and you can sort of see your palm, and sort of see past it. Hearing, smell, and taste are all trickier to unveil; except by lengthy exposure. Touch is the most difficult one, and requires a lot of sustained contact. Sight and touch illusions layered on top of each other are very good for disguises!¡±

    After illusion came flora. The ability to control plants. At the lowest Order, it was simple plant growth. At the higher Order spells, one could give plants a level of sentience. ¡°It is how the ancient Elves created all of the plants in the Fey Realm. Being able to grow plants is really, really useful.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d imagine so,¡± Tristan replied as he continued to be sucked into her dialogue. ¡°Being able to grow plants would help out farmers immensely.¡±

    Next was enchantment. Felicity¡¯s voice went grave and more serious when discussing this spell type. ¡°Enchantment has to do with manipulating minds. At the lower Orders, it involves tricking people with simple misdirection. At the higher Orders, you can quite literally control people¡¯s minds and replace their memories.¡±

    That seemed nefarious and very evil to Tristan. ¡°Do people do that often?¡±

    ¡°Not as often as you would imagine, given the power,¡± Felicity replied. ¡°That is because no enchantment of Third Order or lower can last longer than a day. Ever. And, as soon as the effect ends or is removed, they know exactly who used the enchantment on them¡­visually, at least. They¡¯re given a flash of who did it.¡± She giggled, ¡°And that¡¯s why you use visual illusion spells, then enchantment! So that when the enchantment ends, they see the illusory version of you. Also it can be great for tricking people and pulling pranks!¡±

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    Smart, but it sounds really, really vile. Controlling other people? No thank you. Maybe in an emergency, but I think I¡¯m staying away from that as much as possible.

    Next, she spoke of fortune. A very subtle spell type that would just make someone luckier. ¡°It is nebulous in its efficacy,¡± she said with a bit of a disappointed sigh. ¡°But at the lower Orders, it would let you have a better shot at winning a game of dice. At the higher Orders, it would increase your odds of surviving a barrage of arrows on a battlefield.¡±

    Useful if it lasts a long time, Tristan thought. If you could cast it in the morning and have it last the whole day.

    As the sun began to set, Tristan saw the outlying buildings of a hamlet. There were a few silhouettes of figures he could see in the distance, and checking his pocket, he grimaced at realizing how short he was on funds. A few electrum, and a handful of silver coins. Enough to stay a night on the floor of a family who wants to open their house to a stranger. Then, a realization hit him. Crap, I look like a full-blooded Elf now!

    Elves in the kingdom of Bhant were rare and regarded with great suspicion in the Human-centric kingdom. ¡°Felicity, I need a way to hide my appearance.¡±

    ¡°Oh, mister powerful Elf needs me to teach them a spell? Only if you praise me.¡±

    ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°You heard me. P-r-a-i-s-e me. Say something flattering. And, it has to be sincere.¡±

    ¡°I like your wings. They¡¯re very pretty. Stunning, even. Any lady of the court would be proud to have you perched on their head.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­okay, that works. Repeat after me. And as you do, I want you to channel your essence from your crucible through your entire body. And, you have to envision what you want to look like. This is a First Order spell called Disguise Form. Naamioi muotoni niin, ett? n?yt?n joltakin, mit? en ole.¡± (Disguise my form so that I appear as something I am not).

    She flapped around a little bit, ¡°You also need to make the following gesture with your hand.¡± Her claw-paw turned into a human hand, and she passed it over her face with a small, circular, scrubbing motion.

    Tristan nodded and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. Picturing his essence crucible in his chest, he felt the thrum alongside his heartbeat. Trying to coax it, he instinctively flexed his muscles, and felt the essence trickle out of the crucible and into his limbs. Repeating the phrase, he pictured his body the last time he saw it in a mirror, two years ago.

    There was a pulse of silvery light that he saw behind his eyes, and crackling lines of icy blue seemed to spark inside his mind. He felt a slight exertion, as if he had sprinted up a small flight of stairs. And the essence crucible he was visualizing in his mind¡¯s eye, that small sphere, lost a little bit of its luster.

    Opening his eyes, he looked over at the still-invisible Felicity, ¡°How¡¯s it look?¡±

    ¡°Revolting,¡± she replied with a giggle. ¡°But that¡¯s because you look like a Human. Your Elf body is much better.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the backhanded compliment,¡± Tristan ruefully replied. ¡°It¡¯s still a bit of a ways off. And you have a few more spell types to tell me about. Oh, before that ¨C how long will this disguise last?¡±

    ¡°About an hour,¡± she said.

    So I have to repeat it a few times later on. He stopped in his tracks and began repeating the gesture and whispering the words without giving them any air.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Practicing,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Right here? On the muddy road?¡±

    ¡°No better time than the present.¡± He continued the gesture and repetition. For a solid five minutes, ignoring Felicity¡¯s dejected, heavy sighs. When he was sure he had it down in his memory, he continued walking towards the hamlet. ¡°Okay, you had a few more spell types to tell me about. And it¡¯s still about ten minutes until we¡¯ll get into town.¡±

    ¡°Imbuement and artifice.¡± She spent five minutes explaining each, as they had quite a bit of depth to them. Imbuement was the practice of infusing one¡¯s essence into an item for a limited use; such as a potion, scroll, or other consumable that would then be inert once it was used.

    Artifice was like the enhanced version of imbuement. Creating items that had permanent effects tied to them; not consumed upon use. However, they would only work at the lowest capacity unless a person infused their essence; pushed their essence into the object.

    ¡°Your armor and weapon are items of artifice,¡± she finished.

    ¡°I know that,¡± Tristan replied as they reached the edge of the buildings and began to draw looks from the various townsfolk. ¡°Can they hear you?¡± he whispered.

    ¡°No. Only fairy dragons and Elves can hear or see me while I¡¯m invisible. But, they will notice you talking to nothing and think you¡¯re c-r-a-z-y crazy.¡±

    Noted. He walked over to a woman who was sitting on a slightly raised, wooden porch, knitting a blanket as she watched the small going-ons in the town center. Her attention immediately went to Tristan as he began angling in her direction, and she stood up, went inside the building, and vanished from view.

    A burly man emerged a few moments later. A Human with deep, brown hair like the mud caking Tristan¡¯s greaves, and eyes that were a soft, gentle brown. ¡°You¡¯re that knight that came through town not too long ago,¡± he said in a gruff but enthused tone. ¡°End up finding what you were looking for?¡±

    Tristan nodded and made sure to put on his most charming smile and demeanor. ¡°I did, thank you for asking. I see you have quite a large house here. Did you build it yourself?¡±

    The man grinned, ¡°Yup. Built it up with my brother.¡±

    ¡°Would you by chance be open to accepting coin for the privilege of sleeping in front of your hearth?¡±

    The man¡¯s chest rumbled and he grinned, ¡°Sure. A knight like you has to have a pretty bit of coin.¡±

    ¡°Two silver coins?¡±

    ¡°Make it three, and I¡¯ll throw in a seat at our dinner table. The wife cooked up a lovely barley stew. And my brother caught a nice, juicy rabbit to add.¡±

    Tristan grinned and bowed more deeply, ¡°You have yourself a deal.¡± He produced the coins from his pouch and walked up the porch, handing them to the man. ¡°If you have a spare rag, I¡¯d rather not drag the road into your lovely house along with me.¡±

    The man turned around, went inside, and emerged with a wet rag, handing it to Tristan, ¡°Appreciated. What did you say your name was?¡±

    ¡°Tristan. And I hadn¡¯t said it yet. May I know yours?¡±

    ¡°Call me Wilson. My wife is Gina, and my younger brother is Parson.¡±

 Chapter 7: Charity and learning new spells

    The evening passed quite pleasantly. Tristan was introduced to Wilson¡¯s wife and brother, and the three seemed to form a lovely family unit. Wilson was the town¡¯s carpenter, hence why his house was one of the few that was fully made from wood. ¡°It costs an arm and a leg to import the raw material, but it is worth the cost. Especially because the towns to our north and south have the rich, noble types who can afford good furniture.¡±

    ¡°Why not move to one of those towns?¡± Tristan asked as he took a sip of the gruel. He had pushed aside the chunks of rabbit as he ate.

    Wilson packed a pipe, lit it, and leaned back in his chair at the table. ¡°Well, its more expensive to live there, for one. And two, importing furniture makes nobles feel superior to others in their class. So I can mark up quite a bit of the price just for that ¡®imported¡¯ label.¡± He chuckled, and Tristan laughed along with him.

    ¡°I understand. Other noble families I visited had imported furniture they would always praise.¡±

    Parson, the brother, leaned forward over his bowl, ¡°You¡¯re a noble?¡±

    Tristan nodded and pulled his family crest from his pocket, ¡°Anorox. The line of dragonslayers.¡±

    At this, all three of the people¡¯s eyes went wide. Gina looked over at her husband and whispered to him ¨C but Tristan could hear it with his newly enhanced, Elven sense of hearing. ¡°If I know we had nobility staying I wouldn¡¯t have made gruel!¡±

    Tristan smiled softly, ¡°Oh, it is okay. I¡¯m used to this type of fare.¡± To emphasize the point, he took another bite of the savory food.

    Parson cracked a smile, ¡°Well, Lord Anorox-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a lord,¡± Tristan replied, ¡°Sorry to interrupt. My grandfather is Lord Anorox. And father will inherit that title after him. And-¡± he faced Wilson, ¡°I am not a knight despite my appearance.¡±

    ¡°A noble in armor might as well be a knight,¡± Wilson replied as he took another draw on his pipe and blew a smoke ring into the air. It settled under the small, metal candelabra that was suspended above the table before dissipating. ¡°Well, interested in furniture?¡±

    Tristan chuckled at that and shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t have the funds. But¡­if you have tree seedlings, I think I can help solve a problem you have.¡± This earned an eyebrow raise from Wilson, and Tristan grinned. ¡°I am an essence-weaver, as well.¡±

    This earned mutterings from the three, and Wilson¡¯s face became a large smile. ¡°It just so happens I have some maple seeds that got mixed up with the last shipment of lumber.¡±

    Tristan glanced at Felicity who was sitting on the edge of the table, sitting patiently and taking in the conversation. ¡°I should be able to use a spell that fosters its growth and accelerates it.¡±

    Gina looked where he was looking, ¡°What is it?¡±

    Tristan looked back to her, ¡°Oh, nothing. Just glancing aside.¡±

    Felicity giggled and flew onto Tristan¡¯s shoulder, whispering into his hear. ¡°First Order flora spell? I can teach you that. But you have to let me play a prank on them! Also, it¡¯s about time to re-apply your disguise.¡±

    Tristan stood up, ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I must use the restroom.¡± He was quite thankful that they had an attached outhouse and would not need to go through the mud. Walking down the hallway and entering the small room, he performed the incantation in Elvish that Felicity had taught him, repeated the scrubbing motion in front of his face, and behind his closed eyes saw the silvery glow of his essence crucible surging as the spell manifested.

    ¡°The spell you¡¯ll be using is called Invoke Growth. The words are ¡®Nopeuta n?iden kasvien kasvua. Auta niit? juurtumaan¡¯¡± (Accelerate the growth of these plants. Help them take root). ¡°And the gesture is this.¡± Her claw-paws turned into hands again, and she put one palm-down on the wood. ¡°This goes on the surface, and the plant is under your palm.¡± Then, she lifted it up and away, making a twisting motion with her fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll walk you through it again as you do it.¡±

    Tristan nodded and kept his voice low, ¡°What prank did you want to pull?¡±

    She giggled, ¡°I want to trick the husband into putting on the brother¡¯s clothes! While you¡¯re growing this little grove of trees, I plan on going into their rooms and switching their undergarments!¡± She cackled loudly, and Tristan was glad no one else could hear her or else the cover would have been blown.

    ¡°Right. That doesn¡¯t seem too harmful.¡±

    She let out a giggle, ¡°Oh boy! This is going to be amazing!¡±

    Tristan left the room, used the small basin of water and bar of tar-smelling soap, and returned to the main room. The hearth was blazing nicely, and the table had been cleared off. Wilson looked over at him from his position next to the hearth. ¡°I¡¯ve got the seeds. How will this work, master mage?¡±

    ¡°Just Tristan is fine,¡± he replied. ¡°Do you have an area we can plant them?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the lot in the back is my land. Only half is my workshop, the other open part we were going to do a small herb garden ¨C but if I can get my own lumber? Our profit margins will soar.¡±

    Tristan nodded, walked up, and grabbed the bag of seeds from him. Going to the back door, he saw that Gina and Parson were both standing there, waiting patiently, and whispering about seeing ¡®real magic for the first time¡¯.

    Which was the norm for most people, but not for Tristan. He¡¯d grown up in the capital of the kingdom of Bhant, and mages were uncommon but not so rare that you would never see them. Every week at their court visit, there would be a small group of mages who served various noble families or directly at the king and his council¡¯s behest.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Tristan walked down the small set of wooden steps and onto the still-muddy ground of the back lot. There was a large, covered area that was open on all sides and plenty of woodworking equipment and piles of cured or curing wood were on racks and covered with oilcloth to keep the moisture off. ¡°Over here,¡± Wilson said as he walked past Tristan to an area of the lot that backed up to one of the corn fields. ¡°Let me mark out the area again. Damned rain. Thought we¡¯d be over it by now.¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°Yes, it has been a very rain-filled season. But you know the saying.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ¡®when the thaw is wet, the shine is the best.¡¯¡± Wilson paced the perimeter of a square area, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what you¡¯re going to do!¡± he walked back to the porch and wiped off his feet as he watched with his wife and brother.

    Tristan crouched down and took out one of the seeds. Digging a small hole with his fingers, he pushed the seed down past the mud and into the damp dirt below. ¡°Walk me through it please, Felicity.¡±

    ¡°Alright, repeat after me¡­¡±

    Tristan followed her instructions perfectly, casting the Invoke Growth spell of the First Order. As he envisioned the swirling silver in his chest, it seemed to want to surge down his arm ¨C and he let it flow as it wanted. He felt the trickling down his arm as if water was being passed through a sieve filled with sand to filter the vital liquid. By the time it reached his palm, it was a small drip of essence. Must be because my essence channels are small, he thought.

    Making the gesture of lifting his fingers away as he twisted, his fingers seemed to be pulling on a string of silvery and icy-blue essence. As he twisted and pulled up, he felt giddy and experienced a rush of amazement that coursed down his spine, sending chills up his body. I¡¯m making a tree grow with magic!

    He kept twisting and pulling, and the tree sprouted up and became a sapling. The family he was staying with all gasped, and Gina exclaimed, ¡°Real magic! Gods above!¡±

    Tristan chuckled as he stood up to his full height, pulling the sapling up to the point above his head. ¡°Got a ladder?¡± he shouted back.

    Wilson scrambled alongside his brother to the woodshop, and came back with a ladder that they held upright. Tristan cautiously climbed up, still drawing the plant up with his essence and watching it grow to fifteen feet tall.

    But he felt weary, as if he had been swinging the weighted, practice swords they used back home, and he had to climb down the ladder as he panted in exertion.

    Parson clapped him on the shoulder, ¡°That was incredible, master mage!¡±

    Tristan let out an exhausted chuckle, ¡°That was a First Order spell. I¡¯m not a master mage. But thank you for the compliment.¡±

    Wilson looked around the lot, ¡°Would you be able to do more of that?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes. But let me catch my breath.¡±

    Felicity, still perched on his shoulder, let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°You¡¯re going to run your essence empty for these people? Just remember to keep enough for your Disguise Form spell.¡± She flapped away and flew into the still-open door to the house.

    <hr>

    The next few hours passed in the same fashion as evening drew onward and night took over. The Fingers of Night, the five moons, rose in the distance, and Wilson brought out torches, planting them in the muddy ground.

    Tristan was bone-tired, and by what must have been midnight, he finally went inside. He had been growing trees for hours, and took little breaks to let his essence regenerate. Parson insisted that Tristan sleep in his bed, and he would take the floor near the hearth. Tristan wasn¡¯t one to complain, and he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillows.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wake up!¡± Something firm and fuzzy dug into Tristan¡¯s face.

    He groaned and turned over as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. He felt sore; as if he had been training all day. ¡°What is it?¡± he muttered.

    ¡°They¡¯re knocking on the door!¡±

    Tristan sat up and quickly muttered the phrase for Disguise Form, performing the scrubbing motion over his face. He felt his essence crucible spin, and the soothing feeling of cool air refreshed him to fully being awake. ¡°Am I good?¡± he asked Felicity.

    ¡°Yeah, now hurry and get the door!¡±

    Tristan got out of the bed and did so, finding Wilson on the other side, looking quite panicked. ¡°Forgive me, Tristan. But people saw the trees and started asking questions ¨C there¡¯s a bunch of folk outside the house demanding that the mage- erm, you, help them with their problems.¡±

    And this is why I never saw magic users performing charity, he thought. Tristan nodded, ¡°Are you okay with lying?¡±

    ¡°If it is warranted,¡± the man replied. ¡°But I¡¯m not a liar.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do the lying. Is it safe to say you¡¯re the richest in the hamlet?¡±

    ¡°Close to it.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll say you paid me a ludicrous amount. What¡¯s the max you could pay?¡±

    ¡°Five gold.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Let me get on my armor and I¡¯ll step outside and tell them you paid for my services. That should drive them off.¡± It will sink my reputation a bit if my name gets around as a money-grubbing mage. But I don¡¯t want to be stuck here all day.

    Felicity landed on his shoulder, ¡°You could just leave out the back.¡±

    Tristan went to his armor which had been put aside the night before. To his surprise, it had been polished, and Gina with Parson were sitting at the table, listening in to the conversation Tristan just had with Wilson. Tristan looked to Gina, ¡°I assume you polished and cleaned my armor?¡± She nodded, and he tipped his head, ¡°My thanks.¡±

    Putting the gear on was swift and quick for Tristan¡¯s deft hands. He¡¯d been suiting up in this full plate for years of his life now, and it felt like a second skin once it settled on his shoulders and he fastened the straps. ¡°Okay. Here we go.¡±

    Stepping out on the front porch, he was assaulted by a shouting crowd of people who were begging for magic to cure their ails.

    ¡°My daughter has the flux!¡±

    ¡°The carrots aren¡¯t growing in right!¡±

    ¡°My feet have been aching for years!¡±

    ¡°My brother died last year!¡±

    Tristan held up his hands, and the crowd slowly quieted. Once it was totally silent, he cleared his throat. ¡°I was paid for my services. If you can pay the same, I will help you. But it is steep, and I do not think you can afford it. Ten gold coins.¡± Double what he said he could pay, but I want to make it seem like my services are quite valuable.

    The crowd was gob smacked. Tristan smirked on the inside. He knew the average income for people in the city. A shopkeep in the poorest district of the capital could make sixty gold a year if business was booming. He knew for any of these people, they would be offering their whole lives¡¯ savings.

    Many of the citizens left, but a teenage girl was standing there, with her arms crossed. She had deep, black hair like a raven¡¯s wing, and piercing, amber eyes. ¡°I have enough coin. Heal my mother.¡±

    Tristan shook his head, and was about to say he was restricted from using rejuvenation spells ¨C one of the most common for healing injuries ¨C but stopped himself before speaking. If I say that, I¡¯m outing myself as a non-Human or half-breed. He instead shifted course. ¡°What is the nature of her ailment?¡±

    ¡°She cut her foot last spring and it hasn¡¯t healed right. We¡¯ve done poultices, herbal solutions, all types of medicine. It¡¯s done nothing to help her.¡±

    Well, I do know a bit about wound care thanks to grandfather¡¯s insistence, he thought. The veteran dragonslayer had ensured that his manual included a first aid section and how to treat injuries and infections. ¡°Well, I cannot promise anything, and I will not charge you until after the deed is done ¨C but I will see her.¡± Tristan looked back to the family he had stayed with, who were all on the porch watching the conversation. ¡°Thank you for the lodging.¡±

    ¡°No, thank you, Tristan,¡± Wilson replied as he grabbed his wife around the waist. Gina dipped her head, and the brother Parson bowed at the waist in an attempt at a courtly signal of honor. It was not correctly performed, but Tristan did not care much about that, instead waving goodbye as he followed this girl along the road cutting through town.

 Chapter 8: Magic cannot do everything

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Tristan asked the young woman.

    ¡°Steffany,¡± she replied. ¡°Steffany Millsman.¡±

    ¡°Ah, your father owns the mill here?¡±

    She nodded and pointed to the windmill on a small hill on the outskirts of town. Thankfully, it was in the same direction Tristan was going to be traveling. ¡°Yeah. Up there.¡± She took the lead and got enough in front of him that he could talk to Felicity at a whisper level.

    ¡°How was your prank last night?¡±

    Felicity sighed, ¡°I won¡¯t see it bear fruit, since you slept in his room. I was hoping the wife would find the brother-in-law¡¯s undergarments and they would have a conversation about personal space that is really uncomfortable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not too bad of a prank.¡±

    She smirked, ¡°I toned it down. Originally, I was going to propose taking her undergarments and putting them in the brother-in-law¡¯s bed, to make the husband think his wife was cheating on him.¡±

    Tristan was shocked by that. ¡°That¡¯s evil,¡± he whispered back.

    ¡°A mean prank, sure. Sometimes pranks are better if they are m-e-a-n mean.¡±

    Tristan wrinkled his nose and frowned, ¡°You¡¯re not doing those type of mean pranks around me, got it?¡±

    She sighed, ¡°Yes, Lord Tristan.¡± She pouted and dug her paw-claws into his armor¡¯s pauldron, ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡±

    ¡°You can do something a little mean to my half-siblings when I get home.¡±

    That brought a light that seemed to sparkle out of her green eyes, ¡°Okay! Revenge for years of picking on you?¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡±

    <hr>

    The mill on the hill was busy. Villagers were there with bags of crops, delivering them, and taking sacks of flour back to their homes. There were actually two mills; one millhouse run by the wind, and the other next to and behind it was run by two donkeys pulling the grindstone around and around.

    Steffany brought him to the house attached to the back of the windmill, and Tristan entered. It smelled like freshly baked bread, and there was an undercurrent of another scent that pierced into his mind with how well he knew it.

    Rotten and decaying flesh.

    Grimacing, he followed Steffany as she went into a room and the wave of stench hit Tristan like a mace to the face. He fought back the need to retch as he saw a portly woman laying in a bed. She was covered from mid-calf to torso with a blanket, and she was sweating profusely. Her ankle was disgusting.

    We have to cut that off, Tristan thought. It¡¯s way past gone. There¡¯s no way she¡¯ll survive. He rifled through the memories of his grandfather¡¯s first-aid section of the dragonslayer manual. Okay. First, we¡¯ll need ropes and cloth to tourniquet the limb. Then, knock her out ¨C preferably with an herb concoction of poppy milk, hensbane, and mandrake. He looked at the teenage girl who had tears in her eyes.

    ¡°Magic cannot do everything,¡± Tristan said, letting his voice fill up with as much regret as he could. Years of manipulating my voice for the court, coming into play. ¡°I am sorry. The best thing to do is to give her an herbal remedy to render her unconscious, and remove the foot.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± the teenage girl replied. ¡°She¡¯ll be unable to move.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that, or she dies.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a mage!¡± she shouted as she ran to the other room and returned with a bulging sack of coins. ¡°Fifty gold! Fix her!¡±

    Damnit. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Tristan muttered. ¡°I¡¯m restricted from using rejuvenation.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re a Human!¡±

    Tristan shook his head, and Felicity flew in front of his face, ¡°You should not reveal your heritage to some random peasant. Just leave.¡±

    Sound advice in this case. Tristan stood up, ¡°You never know who has what heritage,¡± he replied as he left the room. ¡°I can brew up the analgesic potion if you gather the ingredients from an herbalist. And I can cut off the foot. But there is no saving it with magic.¡±

    The teenage girl began sobbing, and Tristan felt a pang of guilt. I wish I could help you, he thought. Think. Is there any way I could use my spell types to help out here?

    He turned sideways and waved Felicity over to the corner. Whispering, he asked her, ¡°Imbuement. Can I imbue consumable items with spell types I don¡¯t have access to?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Felicity replied. ¡°You would need essence from a person who had access to that spell type helping you mid-process; for scrolls at least. This girl doesn¡¯t have an essence crucible, so they couldn¡¯t supply the necessary essence despite being able to access rejuvenation. If you want to empower a potion and make it into an elixir? That is doable without any other particular spell type or essence of another person.¡±

    And this girl isn¡¯t a mage, he thought. I doubt she has a bloodline appropriate  ¡°What about using a flora spell to change an herb into something that could help?¡±

    ¡°Third Order. I don¡¯t think you could do it.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything in the Fey Realm that could help?¡±

    She thought for a few seconds and then shook her head, ¡°For Elves and Fairy Dragons? Yes.¡±

    ¡°What¡­what are you talking to?¡± Steffany asked as she suppressed her sniffles.

    Tristan turned around, ¡°Oh, uhm. Nothing, just talking to myself, trying to think of a workaround.¡± He shook his head as he glanced at Felicity who also shook hers. ¡°There is nothing we can do except amputate.¡±

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    The teenage girl nodded, ¡°I have the ingredients. Mom kept a stash of medicinal herbs.¡±

    Tristan walked over to their small wood stove, grabbed a small pot, and fired up the stove as he poured in some water. Steffany brought over a box with well-labeled bottles full of the herbs that Tristan needed. The poppy seeds, thankfully, were already suspended in alcohol and so that tincture was ready. He added it to the slight layer of boiling water. He added the dried hensbane roots and a little bit of hensbane oil. Lastly, he took the mandrake root, cut off the outer layers, and put the slivers into the blend.

    The girl was looking over his shoulder as he worked. ¡°How¡¯d you learn this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still a beginner mage,¡± Tristan said. ¡°But I¡¯m a trained dragonslayer, and part of being any type of warrior is learning how to do some basic medicine and first aid.¡± He moved the pot to the coolest part of the stove to let it simmer and thicken up for easier administration. ¡°Now, we need clean cloth, rope, and plenty of water.¡±

    <hr>

    The slurry was prepared, and Tristan had bottled it and then set to shaking up the substance until it lost the goop-like consistency it had congealed into and became more fluid. Still a bit thick, but not water-like in its feel.

    He had tied off the cloth above the ankle, right around the shin, set up the buckets of water, and had everything ready to go. ¡°Remember,¡± he said to the girl who was holding a small pair of tongs, ¡°You need to be ready to grab the little tubes that will squirt the smallest amount of blood. Then, pull them out a tiny bit, and push the hot iron against them.¡±

    She nodded, and was shaking slightly, but Tristan put a hand on her shoulder, ¡°You can do this. If you don¡¯t, she will die from the infection. This is the only way to help her live. I know a wood carver in town who could make her a simple peg once the wound heals up.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯ll try my best.¡±

    ¡°You washed down with soap? All the way to the elbows? Scrubbed hard?¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    Tristan nodded and turned to his grisly task. Thankfully, it would be quick and efficient. Pulling his sword which was strong enough to cut through dragon¡¯s scales ¨C plus whatever other artifice was upon it he had not tested yet ¨C he placed the length of metal to his side. Leaning over to the woman, he poured the fluid into her mouth and then massaged her neck to help it flow down.

    When she relaxed and sank into her pillows, he knew it was time. ¡°Ready?¡± he asked as he grabbed his weapon.

    ¡°Ready.¡±

    Tristan raised the blade and in one smooth, swift motion, chopped off the foot. There was a slight whimper of pain, and he immediately dropped the sword and grabbed the tongs from the shaky-handed teenager. I figured I¡¯d have to do all of it, he thought as he quickly pulled the veins out, cauterized them with the hot iron nearby, and then began packing the wound with an herb poultice, before wrapping it in clean cloth.

    Steffany was hyperventilating, and Tristan turned to her. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he said softly as he put a hand on her shoulder, gripping slightly. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine. Just make sure you swap out the bandages and poultice every few days. When it starts to heal over, make sure you let it air out a bit before re-bandaging.¡±

    She broke down crying and nodded, ¡°Th-thank you.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Let me write the instructions down. Do you have parchment and ink?¡±

    She numbly walked over to a cabinet, produced the items, and then set them down before sinking into a chair. Tristan quickly penned the instructions before setting it aside to dry, and walked over to Steffany. ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine,¡± he said as he gently squeezed her shoulder.

    The girl nodded, ¡°Thank you¡­¡±

    Tristan left the building and shut the door behind him. He let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. I wish we could have saved the foot, he thought. But this is her best chance to live.

    Felicity flew around him for a few seconds before landing on his head and making kitty-biscuits on his skull with her paw-claws. ¡°You¡¯re an interesting Elf. Helping people for free?¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯ve got the power to help people, I need to try.¡± Tristan began walking around the mill and back to the road, heading on the long trail back to the capital. ¡°I know I can¡¯t help everyone, and I¡¯m not na?ve thinking I can save every person in trouble¡­but for a few hours of my time, I helped save a life. That¡¯s something.¡±

    He walked on in silence for a few minutes before Felicity spoke, ¡°How do you know herblore?¡±

    ¡°Grandfather insisted,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Bertram, Gisele, and myself all learned how to prepare concoctions and tinctures. ¡®You never know when you¡¯ll need to fix an injury¡¯, is what he used to say.¡±

    ¡°Are you as skilled in combat as you are with herbs?¡± she asked with a bit of sardonic flair.

    Tristan chuckled, ¡°I never beat Bertram or Gisele in a duel. But I wasn¡¯t trained to fight people ¨C I was trained to kill dragons.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°How do you train for that? Dragons are big, and your little sword won¡¯t do much.¡±

    ¡°If we find one, I¡¯ll show you. But that¡¯s also why my armor isn¡¯t full plate. It¡¯s got gaps for more mobility. And no need for a helmet, since against dragons there is no point to having one.¡± He tapped his temple, ¡°One crunch or slash is all it takes. Much better to have full visibility.¡±

    Felicity kept making her kitty-biscuits on his head, ¡°Well, good. Helmets are annoying anyways. Your hair is a nice perch.¡±

    Tristan chuckled, ¡°As for how we trained, grandfather made enormous wooden puppets, covered with metal plates to replicate scales. He set up pulleys that would have the puppet move in every which-way a dragon could.¡± Tristan thought back to the enormous dance hall that had been converted to their training space, with rafters running the whole rooftop that his grandfather used to control the puppets.

    ¡°He trained a bunch of different servants to pull specific ropes to simulate a dragon fight,¡± Tristan said, as he reminisced his grandfather shouting commands as the young man worked his way up from fighting a small, whelp-sized dragon, to a full-on adult size. ¡°He didn¡¯t have us train on anything larger.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Well, the way he put it, is that once they reach adulthood, they keep their fighting methods. They¡¯re not dumb beasts¡­dragons from the Elemental Realms are intelligent, cunning, and can think just as well as people can.¡±

    ¡°I noticed you didn¡¯t say that fairy dragons weren¡¯t dumb,¡± Felicity said with an upset, slightly disappointed sound.

    Tristan ignored the comment and continued, ¡°Any fighter can adapt on the fly, but when you¡¯re a dragon, and you¡¯re the apex predator for a region, you don¡¯t have to change your style of combat because no one can challenge you.¡±

    ¡°Did you beat the puppet a lot?¡±

    Tristan¡¯s mind went back to that time, and he replayed the memories as he walked. ¡°When I was younger? No. Eight years old, I got the snot beat out of me by those puppets ¨C granted, when I was small, they put cloth padding on the claws and teeth. Eventually¡­I was ten when I beat the whelp sized one. Then I slowly went up in size.¡±

    Felicity seemed eager at this point, and her snarky-ness had seemingly vanished. ¡°Oh? What are the different sizes?¡±

    ¡°Whelp is the smallest, followed by juvenile, fledgling, adult, and after a long, long time, wyrm.¡±

    ¡°Ahh. Fairy dragons don¡¯t have phases like you have for these other dragons. Do they come in eggs?¡±

    ¡°According to grandfather, yes.¡±

    Felicity giggled, ¡°Wow, how rote. No imagination whatsoever.¡±

    ¡°How do fairy dragons reproduce?¡±

    ¡°The Matriarch makes us from magic. A special fruit that can manifest a miniature essence crucible. When it¡¯s time to be born, she cracks it open.¡±

    Tristan glanced up at the fluttering wings on the edge of his vision, ¡°You have an essence crucible also?¡±

    ¡°Duh. It¡¯s how I do spells. A fairy dragon gets bigger not by age, but by essence crucible capacity.¡±

    Interesting. ¡°How old are you then?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m twenty years old!¡± she proudly exclaimed. ¡°And I¡¯ve got a big essence crucible capacity for that short of time! What do you think I¡¯m doing the whole time you¡¯ve been walking and not talking? I¡¯m spinning my crucible. You should, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that. Walk in silence for a bit, take in the sounds of nature, and build up our crucibles.¡±

    She sighed, ¡°But it is so boooorrrring. We need to get you to travel faster. I want s-p-e-e-d.¡±

    Tristan smirked, ¡°Unless you can help me grow wings or get big enough for me to ride you, or you carry me, not happening anytime soon.¡±

 Chapter 9: A clash of steel and paw

    <hr>

    Tristan had been walking for a few hours and was snacking on a handful of the berries from the Fey Realm. He held one up above his head, and Felicity nabbed it out of his hands before nibbling it. Her eating noises were kind of cute ¨C a mix between a cat taking little nibbles, and a bunny rapidly chewing on a leaf.

    The food filled him up despite only having a few berries. I never have to buy food again, he thought. Just go back to the Fey Realm and get more berries. He grinned at the knowledge that he wouldn¡¯t have to spend coin in the future on that expense. ¡°Are there any equivalents to alcohol in the Fey Realm?¡± he asked her.

    ¡°N-o-p-e,¡± she said between little nibbles, enunciating each letter between her bites.

    ¡°That¡¯s a sham-¡±

    ¡°Hallucinogenic mushrooms? Yes. Better than being drunk, since you don¡¯t get the hangover the next morning.¡± She giggled and patted his head, ¡°Hand me another Starberry!¡± He did so, and she snagged it, muttered a quiet, ¡°Thank you,¡± and then munched down on it. ¡°Ehnd then,¡± she said with a full mouth, ¡°we fumd furmuhnted frut to ut.¡±

    So that¡¯s what they¡¯re called, he thought as he popped another one into his mouth. He almost instantly regretted the smaller-sized berry, as it was very sour; like he had bitten into a lime. ¡°Are the small ones always like this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Mhmm.¡± She finished hers, reached down to snag the smaller one, and scarfed it down. ¡°Smaller means more sour, silly.¡±

    A glint of light in the distance down the road caught his attention. Sunlight reflecting off of steel. Waving his hand over his face, he swirled his essence crucible in his chest and cast Disguise Form. ¡°You¡¯re invisible, right?¡±

    ¡°Been invisible this whole time!¡± she replied. ¡°Let me go check it out.¡± She lifted off his head and flew forward. Tristan kept walking at the same place, and she returned within a minute, landing on his head again. ¡°Ok. Wow. They¡¯re u-g-l-y ugly. Yuck!¡±

    ¡°Who are they?¡±

    ¡°Beats me. Some guys with black, studded-leather armor.¡±

    Tristan¡¯s eyes narrowed and his hand went to his family¡¯s ancestral blade, ¡°Did they have a red emblem of an eye with a spike going down the middle?¡±

    ¡°Yeah! How¡¯d you know?¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°The Black Company.¡± He moved his left hand to grab the crest of his noble house, and he slipped the chain around his neck as he kept walking. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t cause any problems, but just in case ¨C how do items of artifice work?¡±

    ¡°Just spin your essence crucible and focus the energy into the items. You think you¡¯re gonna fight?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°They don¡¯t really obey nobility.¡± The Black Company was a mercenary band that had been contracted by the kingdom of Bhant to help supplement the army. They were owned by the king¡¯s cousin; a man named Richter Fresen. Tristan had seen him a handful of times at court.

    ¡°Well, if you end up fighting, I¡¯m going to fly over and scratch them!¡± She put her claws in front of his face and he saw them grow into wickedly sharp blades.

    Tristan saw the length of the blades, ¡°Those won¡¯t penetrate very deeply. Still, any help is good help.¡± He waved his hand as he got within shouting distance of the group. ¡°Hail!¡±

    The lead man in the studded leather raised his hand and returned the greeting. The group and Tristan approached at the same speed, and Tristan stopped in the road as the group of five men spread out to block the path. ¡°Ah, a wandering knight.¡±

    ¡°Noble,¡± Tristan said as he tapped his crest around his neck.

    ¡°I ain¡¯t seen that one before,¡± the lead man said. His voice was nasal and coarse, as if he had breathing problems and smoked heavily ¨C one probably leading to the other. His face matched his voice; it was rough and looked like tanned leather. ¡°Some noble house you must be.¡±

    ¡°House Anorox. The Dragonslayers.¡±

    The man let out a hearty laugh from his stomach echoed by his allies, before he bent over and wheezed. One of his companions clapped him on the back and handed him a waterskin. Taking a long pull from it, he gasped and cleared his throat. ¡°Anorox? Please. They aren¡¯t a real noble house! Just some upstart storytellers!¡±

    ¡°Lies!¡± Tristan shouted. ¡°My grandfather slew the Arch Dragon of the Elemental Realm of Fire! My father slew Valcranox the Render!¡±

    The lead mercenary shook his head, ¡°Sure. And I¡¯m the king of the Sapphire Coast. Now look, little noble, this goes one of two ways. Either one, you give us that fancy suit of armor, that sword, and all your valuables ¨C and we let you go on your way. Or¡­¡± he slowly moved his hand to the pommel of his mace slung on his hip. ¡°We do this the hard way, and you probably die.¡±

    Tristan felt a rage boil up in him. An anger that he had not experienced before. No one had dared shame his family before. No one had doubted his nobility before. This pathetic mercenary thought that their family were frauds, despite saving the kingdom twice. He did not need to spin his essence crucible ¨C he felt it swirling in his chest and the light, silver icy-blue aura swirled out of him like a blizzard.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Felicity flew off his head and went to circle behind the hostiles, ¡°Go get them Tristan! Beat the crap out of them!¡±

    Gladly, Tristan thought as he focused the essence swirling in his body into the sword in his grip. The normally, shining-grey blade ignited with the same icy blue as his essence¡¯s manifestation. It grew lighter in his grip, and he saw ice crystals form in the air from the severe temperature drop. His armor felt lighter as well, and glancing down at his vambraces and gauntlets, he saw that the armor had taken on a cooler, blue appearance instead of its steel one.

    ¡°A mage! Rush him!¡± The mercenaries drew weapons and let out a roar as they charged forward, trying to rush Tristan.

    I might not have trained against people much, but the leader is like the head, and each of the others is a claw. Tristan focused on the space behind the five men, trusting his peripheral vision to help him react more quickly. He knew well that focusing on the attacker meant that one would react much slower to incoming assaults.

    Felicity dashed in from behind and above the lead mercenary, latching onto his scraggly-haired head with her hind claw-paws, and reached over with the front ones, gouging his eyes. He screamed and flailed as she lifted off and flew up.

    One down, Tristan thought as he met the assault head-on. The far-left mercenary came at him first, and he swung his blade out at the man¡¯s spiked mace. To his shock, his weapon sliced right through the mace, and the mercenary was left holding a metal stick. Tristan had no time to take advantage of the man¡¯s stunned state, as the other three descended on him.

    He backed away, pacing himself as he focused solely on defense. Parrying, blocking, riposting when possible. Their numbers were too much for him to make any headway against, but they were poorly trained. If I just got a big slice in, I could cut their weapons apart like that mace. Each time his blade intercepted their varying weapons, a burst of cool air cascaded from the sword.

    His newly manifested Elven heritage seemed to grace him with improved speed, agility, and strength. But that was only allowing him to keep up with a three-on-one ¨C no, four-on-one assault, as the man with the spit of spiked mace had run back, grabbed his blinded ally''s sword, and charged to join the attack against Tristan.

    They¡¯re just dragon claws, he thought as he envisioned the enormous creature above and behind the group of four, swinging its sword-length claws at him in the same arcs that these men¡¯s swords and maces were coming at him. Visualizing the massive foe, and turning this into another training encounter, allowed Tristan to keep up with them.

    If it were a real dragon, he would not have put forth the strength for full blocks, however, as it would just batter him aside. But their blows were not the same weight, did not carry the same might, as a swipe from those mighty beasts that the heavily weighted puppet-claws could replicate. And so, he was able to meet their weapons and repel them, rather than provide a slight angle for the blade to pass along as he shifted to the side.

    Each time that burst of cool air cascaded from his blocks and parries; he could see a tiny layer of rime build up upon his foe¡¯s skin. I wonder what happens if they hit the armor? He thought. Thus far he had not been hit. Right, maybe I let one blow through to the chest where the plates are heaviest. He intentionally let his guard waver, and the one with a broadsword took the opportunity to stab forward. Tristan made sure to tilt his body to make the blow glancing, and he felt a slight, dull pain. The armor did its job.

    The effect that manifested from being struck was immediate. The air exploded in a flurry of razor-sharp ice and blisteringly cold snow that slammed into the men in front of him. They screamed in agony as they backed off, turned to the fields on either side of the road, and scattered from the unexpected, seemingly impossible-to-surpass defensive spell.

    Tristan was sucking in breaths. He had trained for endurance fights with the dragon puppets, and each time he had ended up exhausted after two minutes. But he felt¡­pretty good, all things considered. He had not suffered any injury except a minor bruise from the stab to the torso ¨C it didn¡¯t go through the armor but would definitely be purple the next morning. But as for exertion¡­he could go another few minutes.

    Felicity flew over and landed on his head again, scratching it with retracted paw-claws. ¡°That was awesome! You really do know how to fight!¡±

    Tristan sheathed his blade and let the flow of essence dissipate. ¡°I got angry and then my essence came out and my crucible swirled on its own. Why did that happen?¡±

    ¡°Strong emotions can cause the essence crucible to ¡®seep¡¯ the magical energy. You must have been really pissed off. I¡¯m talking p-i-s-s-e-d off.¡±

    Yeah, well, they don¡¯t even know my goddamn family name! Without grandfather, the kingdom would have been destroyed. And the entire capital would have been razed without father and him. He walked over to the blinded man and cleared his throat, ¡°Now you know that I am a noble, and my family is legitimate.¡±

    He whimpered and tried to push himself back with his feet, but Tristan put a foot on the man¡¯s foot ¨C gently, but forceful enough to keep him pinned. ¡°Wh-what do you want?!¡± he screamed in pain.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to take your money, for one thing.¡± Tristan reached down and took the man¡¯s coin pouch. Checking inside, he saw a decent amount of electrum, mostly silver, and some copper pieces. He held it up, ¡°Felicity, mind putting this in your storage dimension?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± the man asked in confusion.

    ¡°Yeah, one second.¡± Felicity grabbed the pouch, Tristan sensed the weird distortion of magic in the air just above him, and then she patted him on the head. ¡°All done.¡±

    Tristan grabbed the man by the shoulder, pulled him up, and walked him over to a waystone ¨C a pile of rocks with a few etched directions. Sitting the man down next to it, he handed him a Starberry. ¡°Eat that, and wait for your companions to come get you.¡±

    The man simply whimpered and shivered in place ¨C possibly going into shock. Tristan sighed. Why should I be nice to him? They attacked me. They deserve their fate.

    Felicity must have been reading his mind, because she went, ¡°Oooh! I¡¯ve got an idea for an epic prank! Let¡¯s take his clothes!¡±

    Tristan chuckled, ¡°Make him walk back to town in the nude? He¡¯d die to exposure or embarrassment.¡±

    ¡°Aww, you¡¯re no fun! Spoilsport!¡±

    ¡°We can just hide them nearby.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay! Not as mean, but it works.¡±

    Tristan ripped the clothes off of the man who just sat there in mute silence. He tossed the trousers on one side of the road, the shirt on the other, and left the boots in the muddy ground one step in front of the other ¨C as if he was running away and had lost his shoes. He chuckled slightly at the prank as he resumed his journey.

    Felicity glanced back down the road, ¡°Neat little prank with the boots. I wouldn¡¯t have thought of that.¡±

    ¡°It just came to me,¡± Tristan replied with a grin, still giddy from using his artifice weapon and armor to their potential.

 Chapter 10: First night among the Fey

    Tristan¡¯s day-long journey was uneventful after encountering the mercenaries. The entire time he was walking, he was spinning his essence crucible except when he re-did the Disguise Form spell each hour. Every time he used the magic, he could feel a very slim amount of the essence within slowly pushing against the limits of his essence channels.

    I just have to keep practicing, using spells, and then eventually I can use higher Order ones, he thought. ¡°How high do you think I could go?¡± he asked Felicity.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She asked as she paused her own crucible spinning.

    ¡°Oh, in Order spells.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­based on what I¡¯ve seen, and using my genius intellect¡­Second Order. You have enough raw essence, but your body can¡¯t handle channeling it. So, you¡¯re stuck at itty-bitty First Order spells. For now.¡± She sounded quite smug and proud of her knowledge.

    Tristan knew that those who were capable of using essence-weaving were given a titled based upon the Order they had demonstrated mastery over. First through Third Order were mages, or magi for groups of them. Four through Seven were called sorcerers. Eighth through Tenth were known as wizards. And finally, those who had enough essence, and a bloodline to enable access to Eleventh Order or higher spells were known as an Archon.

    And I¡¯ve got two bloodlines. Oh, that reminds me, ¡°I know bloodlines let people use spells above Tenth Order, but what spell type do Elves get to bypass that restriction with normally?¡±

    ¡°Well, all elves are capped at Tenth Order for the usual spell types to the heritage,¡± she replied. ¡°The four bloodlines give the different spell type restriction bypasses. Summerbalm get fire elementalism, Springthaw get water elementalism, and Fallthorn get wind elementalism. I¡¯ll give you two guesses as to what spell type you get!¡±

    ¡°Ice elementalism?¡±

    ¡°Correct!¡±

    I¡¯m restricted to Tenth Order for everything except that and dragonbane, he thought. Two was not unusual, especially if the bloodlines were very potent or pure. He recalled very vividly an Archon who visited the royal court once that claimed to have both Demonkin and Angelblood heritage and was able to use revival, necromancy, and divination spell types above Tenth Order. What was his name? Tristan thought. Ah, yes. Grimtome.

    Tristan stepped off to the side of the road to find a bit of a more isolated space. Finding a rock to sit down on in a pasture, he began channeling essence into the Fey Realm Ring. The trickle that he had felt before when using the Invoke Growth spell was a bit more forceful. Just a day of traveling and spinning my crucible, and I¡¯m already seeing this level of growth? He felt giddy and couldn¡¯t help but let out a chuckle.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°Think of a good joke?¡±

    ¡°No. Just happy that I¡¯m developing so quickly.¡±

    Felicity frowned, ¡°I want to hear a good joke. Give me what you got.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­okay. Uhm¡­nope, got nothing.¡±

    She sighed, ¡°You¡¯re an Elf, and you can¡¯t make up jokes?¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not a jester.¡±

    ¡°What do you call a fairy dragon who is horrible at flying?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, what?¡±

    ¡°A scaleure. Get it? Scale failure?¡±

    Tristan just looked up at Felicity, her head arced over to meet his gaze. ¡°That was a bad joke.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve got hundreds of these. Why did the goblin cross the road?¡±

    Tristan sighed, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because he was chasing the chicken!¡±

    That one got a slight giggle from Tristan. ¡°Okay, that one was better.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can keep going¡­¡±

    <hr>

    After the hour passed, Tristan saw the world turn white before existence resumed around him and he was standing in front of the tree. Fairy dragons immediately began swarming him, offering congratulations on his return, offering assistance, cracking jokes, and being both polite and a nuisance.

    ¡°I would really like to get more Starberries, some new underclothes, a hot bath, and a place to sleep.¡±

    ¡°Right away!¡±

    ¡°You got it!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on the berry patrol!¡±

    ¡°Hot water? What do we look like, fire dragons? Fiiiine, I¡¯ll find some sticks.¡±

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    ¡°We need a tub that won¡¯t burn!¡±

    ¡°Where are we going to find clothes?¡±

    ¡°Strandvine! Go find some strandvine!¡±

    ¡°We must measure him! He needs the perfect fit!¡±

    The fairy dragons scattered to various tasks, and Tristan felt slightly embarrassed that he had so many servants beckoning to his every whim. At the same time, he felt right. Having all of these creatures tending to his every whim was quite enjoyable.

    Felicity was barking orders as well, stating she was the ¡®seneschal¡¯ and ¡®Lord Tristan¡¯s chief advisor¡¯; to which she received very raunchy comments, dissenting opinions, and jeers. She grumbled and kneaded her paw-claws into Tristan¡¯s head. ¡°I thought I was someone important.¡±

    Tristan walked into the tree, descending the stairs down to the tunnels below as he followed a few fairy dragons who beckoned him onward. ¡°You are proving yourself quite valuable in the Mortal Realm. Keep it up, and I might give you the title you claim you have.¡±

    She got off his head and flew in front of him, eyes full of literal, twinkling stars. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied as he scratched her head between the antlers and ears. ¡°And I mean that very sincerely.¡± He felt regret well up in him, ¡°I am sorry, again, for chasing you and trying to kill you for two years. If I had known that you all weren¡¯t really harming anyone-¡±

    ¡°I forgave you already, dummy,¡± she said with a slight pout that was undercut by her giggling voice. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m going to go and sleep in my nest.¡± She flew back the way Tristan had come, and he kept following the few fairy dragons leading him deeper into the tunnel network.

    There were directions carved into the wall for various portions of the facility, and Tristan inquired about the layout. It was an enormous series of rings, all built up around the center of the tree and spreading out from there. The vault was on the far western side of the complex. He was led to a spacious room that looked quite cozy. There was a small pool along one wall in the shape of an oval, and the near-rainfall sound of the drip-drops coming from the roots above were soothing.

    There was a large, circular bed, there were two armor racks, a few weapon holders, and chests for storage ¨C all made from the same wood as the tree surrounding him. Flora spells must let you manipulate living wood so you can make objects with it. Or even carve this whole facility, I suppose.

    The fairy dragons asked him if he needed anything. ¡°I¡¯ll just take that hot bath when I can get it. Food, drink, and those new underclothes.¡± He began taking off his armor, and to his surprise, a group of fairy dragons helped divest him of it, put it on the armor rack and began polishing it with their wings. ¡°Oh, thank you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome!¡± the two who were polishing said in concert. Another fairy dragon unsheathed his sword, and yet another took the sheath and they set to polishing and maintaining the leather, respectively. In a few seconds he had been completely disarmed by the creatures.

    A group of eight fairy dragons flew in carrying a massive, dull-grey wood basin. Tristan inquired what it was, and one of the eight replied. ¡°Adamant Wood. It¡¯s like that Mortal Realm Ironwood stuff, but way better. It rivals steel!¡±

    ¡°Good to know,¡± Tristan replied as the eight set the basin down near the pool of water, and then another group brought in a bunch of wood and set to working them to a flame. Tristan watched in fascination and in fits of chuckles as the fairy dragons worked as a focused and industrious group for their various tasks. But they were constantly ribbing each other and cracking jokes.

    As the water got to a hot enough temperature, Tristan sank into the first hot bath he¡¯d had in months. He sank into the water and mumbled a thank you as he let the warm fluid penetrate his skin and down to his bones.

    After about an hour, a group of fairy dragons came in and had him stand up in the tub, took some measurements, and then set to carving apart long, thin reeds into plant-based string. One of them explained that it was called strandvine. ¡°It¡¯s what all of the Elves used to make their clothing out of.¡±

    Tristan nodded and remained in the bath until the clothes were done. After drying off with some large, broad leaves that were roughly textured but wicked away the moisture ¨C evapalm leaves, as he was told, he put on the new clothing. And it felt fantastic. He had felt silk only once before in his life, when a traveling prince from a far-off kingdom visited the court. This felt better than that. Smooth, soft, and perfectly temperature regulating.

    ¡°I want to go to the vault,¡± he said. ¡°I got a little bit of essence capacity, and I want to see how much it gave me.¡±

    A group of the fairy dragons took him over to the vault, and once more he planted his hands on the door and poured all of his essence into them, spinning his crucible as fast as he could. The symbol filled up a tiny bit more, and one of the fairy dragons flew up to the vertical gauge and made a small, red mark with its tail.

    Tristan fell back, exhausted, and was caught by the group of creatures. ¡°Thanks,¡± he mumbled as they helped him to his feet, he went back to his room, and collapsed into the extremely comfortable bed.

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey! Wake up!¡± There was a fuzzy paw pushing into his face. Tristan pushed whatever it was away and rolled over in the blankets.

    ¡°Five minutes,¡± he muttered in a half-sleep daze. He bolted upright as he felt a sharp, scratching pain on his bare back. ¡°Ow!¡±

    He heard Felicity¡¯s voice, ¡°About time!¡± turning to face her as he tried to reach around to his scratched skin, he saw her fluttering in the air just above the bed. ¡°Come on. It¡¯s time to go back to getting stronger!¡±

    Tristan nodded and stood up, stretching, then walking over to the small pool of water. Dipping himself in and then drying off with some evapalm that were stacked up, he donned his clothes. A group of fairy dragons flew in and helped him with his armor, and a different one came flying up with a bunch of starberries on a platter. A few looked like they were cooked. ¡°What will it taste like?¡± Tristan asked.

    Felicity cut off the one carrying the berries, ¡°It tastes like beef!¡±

    Tristan cautiously grabbed one off the plate and took a bite. It tasted exactly like a well-seasoned steak. ¡°Wow, it¡¯s versatile in flavor.¡± I wonder what it would be like if I mixed it with chilled cream like we had back in the country estate.

    After eating his fill, another fairy dragon flew in with a bag full of starberries, and Felicity put them into her extradimensional storage space with a brief pop. Then, when Tristan went to put on his armor, a flock of fairy dragons came over and helped him don it. ¡°Thanks a ton,¡± he said after they had finished.

    The group fluttered out, and Tristan followed them as Felicity settled on his head once more. ¡°Onward, to adventure!¡±

    <hr>

    Returning to the dirt circle and channeling essence into the ring, Tristan reappeared on the rock he had left from. It was just past dawn, and the sun was cresting over the horizon. Returning to the road, he saw no traffic. ¡°Okay, back to walking and working out my essence crucible.¡±

    Felicity made her claw-paw biscuits in his hair, ¡°Don¡¯t forget your illusion spell! Don¡¯t want to be an Elf in Bhant.¡±

    True. Tristan spun his crucible, repeated the gesture and phrase for Disguise Form, and once more his human appearance appeared on him. ¡°Alright. Now, we practice.¡±

 Chapter 11: The Anorox Estate

    The next few days¡¯ travel was much the same as the day before. Tristan would walk until nightfall, return to the Fey Realm, rest up, and venture out the next day. He and Felicity did not speak much, as he was focusing all his willpower on spinning his essence crucible. Every day, he felt the little trickle get just a little bigger.

    After a week, they reached the inner lands of the kingdom of Bhant. The weather had begun to get slightly warmer. Tristan saw the familiar signs that told him he was back around his childhood home. The orchard where Mr. Perry would grow his apples along the edge of the Anorox property line. As a child, he, Bertram, and Gisele would go pick them for a little bit of coin ¨C and for free apples.

    Not that they needed the coin. Minor nobility were still nobles, and his father and grandfather before him were paid well for their roles in saving the kingdom in the past. But their father always extolled them to work hard and learn what it was like making an honest day¡¯s coin.

    Well, before his Elf side became apparent. Then his father shunned him.

    Continuing past the orchard he turned onto the firm dirt road that led to the estate entrance. A chest-high wall topped with metal spikes marked the perimeter of the family¡¯s countryside home. A place that Tristan was well acquainted with. They only went to the townhouse in the city for monthly court appearances. This was his home.

    And that is because they needed the space. His grandfather had constructed an enormous building for his dragon-puppets that his child and grandchildren could practice fighting against. And, as proper nobles, they had a number of horses as well. His father¡¯s prized possessions were horses, and he loved them almost as much as he loved his children. Well, not all his children. He loved those horses more than he loved Tristan.

    As Tristan was thinking on this, Felicity tapped him on the head, ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he replied as he was pulled out his memories.

    ¡°Does your estate wall thing have a gatehouse?¡±

    Tristan looked down the road and felt panic rise in his chest. The gatehouse, normally manned by a few hired mercenary guards that his father had met in his adventuring days, was occupied by The Black Company. ¡°What are they doing here?¡± he wondered aloud.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not normal then.¡±

    ¡°No, it is not,¡± Tristan replied.

    Felicity clicked her tongue, ¡°Well¡­I could go take a look and listen. See what is going on.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yeah, please do.¡± He cut to the side of the road as Felicity lifted off, and he made sure to stay out of sight of the gate house. Waiting patiently for a few minutes, his mind raced with possibilities. Maybe they¡¯re doing a wellness check of some type? They could be here to train with grandfather? Lots of possibilities. Doesn¡¯t explain why dad¡¯s friends aren¡¯t there.

    Felicity returned and her face was downcast. ¡°Umm¡­you¡¯re not going to like this-¡±

    Tristan felt his chest seize up slightly in panic, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re guarding and keeping an eye out for someone who looks an awful lot like you.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Tristan asked, honestly flabbergasted. ¡°The Black Company we fought a few days ago did not have a communication mirror as far as I saw. And those things are big, I would¡¯ve seen it.¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°They want you. And getting in looking like you isn¡¯t going to be possible.¡±

    Tristan pushed his way through the trees and growth surrounding the walls and fence. Going down the line of stacked stone, he got to a small spot where the land sloped up slightly. Well-worn grooves and footholds had been knocked out by Bertram and him when they were younger and closer; they had made a way to escape the confines of home and roam the countryside if they wanted to.

    Finding the familiar handholds, Tristan hauled himself up to the top of the stonework, and then gingerly stepped over the spiked, metal railing, before dropping down into a roll on the grassy slope on the other side. Glancing around to make sure he wasn¡¯t noticed; he ran across the unkempt pastureland. Weird. Father would never let the horses stay cooped up. This would all be a lot lower. Something is definitely wrong.

    Reaching the house itself, Tristan made a beeline for the cellar doors. He only stopped to check under the small tuft of grass that he had buried a spare key under when he first left on his two-year journey. Ripping up the growth, he found the bronze item, and fitting it into the lock, he found to his satisfaction that it clicked open.

    ¡°Make sure you go quietly,¡± Felicity said. ¡°And duck your head! I¡¯m up here, don¡¯t forget.¡±

    Tristan gently opened the doors revealing a dusty set of cellar steps. ¡°That¡¯s not right,¡± he muttered. ¡°We have servants living here. They¡¯d be going up and down this for deliveries.¡± Something is very, very wrong. Creeping his way down the steps, he winced slightly as every step caused his armor to shake and make some noise. ¡°Is there anything I can do to mute myself?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Sound is not a spell type you or I have. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Might be worth taking the armor off then,¡± he muttered. ¡°Felicity, do you mind scouting through the house and seeing if anyone is in here before I do that?¡±

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    She saluted and flew off. Tristan walked over to the pantry and opened it, his nose wrinkling as he smelled rotten and fermented fruits and vegetables. The grain looked fine enough. Going into the pantry and opening the door leading down to the meat cellar, he also was hit by the sickly-sweet smell of rotting carcasses. No one has been here for some time, he thought.

    There was no way the family had abandoned their home in favor of the townhouse in the capital. And it wasn¡¯t sold; otherwise this area would see some foot traffic. Heading back upstairs, Felicity came dashing over to him and fluttered in place in front of him. ¡°We have to go. Now.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    She put her paws on his shoulders and pushed him ineffectually, ¡°You don¡¯t want to see what is up there.¡±

    Tristan felt that tension in his chest grow cold. ¡°Is anyone here?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Felicity replied. ¡°And if you go up there, you¡¯re not going to like what you see.¡± Tristan pushed past her and walked up the steps. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, Tristan, you should turn back.¡±

    I need to see whatever happened, he thought. Going up the stairs and entering the dining room, he cut across the dusty space and into the main entry hall ¨C freezing in place as soon as he rounded the corner. His stomach leapt up into his chest, and he leaned over and retched.

    All the house servants had been butchered and their bodies thrown into a pile in the front room. He could make out the horrified and partially rotten faces of their head servant, Mildred, who was like a second mother to him. ¡°No. No-no-no this can¡¯t be real.¡± He looked at Felicity who was flapping just behind him, ¡°You¡¯re doing an illusion. Please tell me this is some sick trick!¡±

    She frowned and shook her head, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tristan.¡±

    Mother! He ran up the stairs and made a beeline for his mother¡¯s study. The place where she spent the most time. He passed by his old bedroom and paused. The door was completely shattered inward, blown off its hinges by someone smashing it down. The room had been completely ransacked. Shaking his head, he kept running until he found the same type of treatment had been done on his mother¡¯s study door.

    Going in he sucked in a sharp breath. She was sitting in front of an open window, the cool air gently blowing in. But he could see her hand dangling down. Withered. Decayed. Slowly walking forward, he walked around to confirm what he knew. Her throat had been slit, and the dark, dried blood had stained her lounge-about dress.

    He fell to his knees and sobbed; grabbing at the hem of her dress as he rubbed his face against it. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked through the sobs. ¡°Who did this?¡± he whispered through the tears.

    He felt the warm touch of Felicity¡¯s paw on his cheek, ¡°Take all the time you need.¡±

    Tristan cried into the fabric for what must have been an hour. His mother and grandfather were the only two people in his direct family that cared about him. His father disliked and even said on one occasion that he hated Tristan. His brother and sister had grown distant as they grew older, taking after his father.

    He slowly stood up, intentionally averting his eyes from his mother¡¯s face as he could not bear to look at it marred in any way. He untied the choker around her neck. An item of artifice. He knew exactly what it did.

    But Felicity did not. ¡°Why was she wearing that?¡±

    Tristan held the choker in his hand, ¡°She¡­when father¡¯s first wife died, he went adventuring for a short time.¡± He wiped away his tears and felt the sorrow begin to blend with anger at the man. Not an unfamiliar emotion when it came to his father. ¡°He saved her life, and she swore to be eternally loyal to him. This¡­this kept her quiet when he did not want to hear her.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Misogynist?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Father thought that a woman¡¯s place was to bear children and raise them. Grandfather refused to let father keep my mother as a plaything, forcing him to marry her.¡± He looked at Felicity and felt that anger build up inside, overshadowing his sorrow. ¡°Non-Humans and half-breeds are looked down upon in Bhant. As soon as my mother had me, father did something to her with the help of an alchemist. I was her only child.¡± Tristan cursed his father¡¯s name and looked away from Felicity.

    ¡°That¡¯s horrible,¡± Felicity whispered with genuine shock and disgust on her face.

    ¡°I need to bury her,¡± Tristan said as he began pouring essence into his ring. ¡°We¡¯re taking her back to the Fey Realm.¡±

    <hr>

    The hour passed in silent sorrow as Tristan held his mother¡¯s hand. Gently, as to not damage it. He was trying to think of why someone would want to hurt her. Butcher the household. But he could not think of a reason. Grandfather would have never let this happen without a fight. Once I put her in the Fey Realm, I need to find him. He felt the cold grip of dread begin to go up his spine. But¡­what if he¡¯s dead, too?

    The white light surged around him, and he was in the Fey Realm once more. Fairy dragons swarmed him, and he shouted out, ¡°Bring The Matriarch!¡± His voice cracked, and he went silent as he realized his throat was parched.

    Sitting there on the ground, holding his mother¡¯s corpse, he couldn¡¯t help but look at her face. It was withered and sunken, but the regal cheekbones and elegant jawline were still there. He forced himself to look away, setting her down on the ground as gently as he could. The Matriarch¡¯s enormous wings flapped mightily as she landed and walked over. ¡°Lord Tristan?¡±

    He gestured to his mother. ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡± He looked up at The Matriarch, ¡°I need to bury her.¡±

    The Matriarch dipped her head down in respect, and the rest of the Fey creatures did as well. ¡°Of course.¡± She looked at a few of the fairy dragons, and thirty of them immediately flew over and gently picked up his mother¡¯s body. ¡°Come, follow me. She will lay with her ancestors. I smell her bloodline; the same as you. My sincerest condolences.¡±

    Tristan followed The Matriarch down into the roots of the tree once more, and she led him to a room that was seemingly dug into the spire supporting the tree. There was a bubbling pit of sap, almost like a living organ that was slowly beating. ¡°This is the Queen¡¯s Wood¡¯s heart. The center of the Fey Realm. Tradition dictates that the closest of her kin puts her into the sap.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I wanted to bury her.¡±

    ¡°If you wish, we can do that instead. But the old way of the Elves is to submerge her in the sap and allow the tree to nourish itself. Giving herself back to the land, in a way. As the first Elves emerged from such trees, it is only natural to give back.¡±

    Tristan nodded and gently took his mother¡¯s corpse from the fairy dragons, setting her down into the sap. It graciously accepted her, and she sank down into the slightly bubbling liquid. ¡°I¡­I need¡­¡± He felt lost. Isolated and alone in a sea of sorrow that stormed within his chest as the pain of loss welled up inside. He heard a roaring in his ears, a wailing of sorrow ¨C and realized a second later that it was him.

    Tristan felt someone hug him from behind. A person. And wheeling about, he saw a young woman who looked like a mix between a fairy dragon and a Human. ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry,¡± she said in Felicity¡¯s voice.

    ¡°You-¡±

    ¡°I can shapeshift,¡± she said as she held him in a comforting hug. ¡°I know people like hugs when they¡¯re sad.¡±

    Tristan held her and buried his head into the crook of her shoulder and neck, grieving at the loss of the person who brought him into the world. Taught him everything in books. Played with him as a child. Nurtured his interests. Built up the connection between him and his grandfather.

    A rush of memories flooded into him, and he simply wept as the tumultuous tempest of the past rushed through his mind.

 Chapter 12: Seeking answers

    Some time passed ¨C how long, Tristan was not sure. He pulled away from Felicity when he had recovered and saw that the two had been left alone. ¡°You okay?¡± she asked.

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Thank you,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡­I¡¯ll need time. But not now. I have to find out what happened.¡±

    Felicity nodded and her form shifted. Her body wiggled like some type of jelly before her form shrunk and the shape stabilized into her fairy dragon form. She flapped her wings, hovering in front of him. ¡°Ah, much better. I don¡¯t know how you do it, walking on two legs. It feels so weird.¡±

    ¡°You can just do that?¡±

    She nodded and flew to the top of his head, settling down on it and letting her tail lazily swish behind him. ¡°I can turn invisible, shapeshift into that elfanoid form, and have that extradimensional storage space. Plus, spells just like what you have. But my spells are limited. Just illusion and enchantment. And a pinch of transmutation. That¡¯s turning objects into other objects!¡±

    ¡°Can you shapeshift into anything else?¡± Tristan asked as he left the tree, trying to distract himself from the anguish.

    ¡°If I get enough essence capacity, I can shapeshift into any heritage to blend in. I could even shapeshift into dragons from the Elemental Realms! Or other species of creatures, but dragons are easier since we¡¯re sort of like them. The only downside is we don¡¯t get their breath abilities. I mean, one time, The Matriarch turned into one, and when she tried to do that breath thingy, a bunch of rainbows flew out. It was pretty.¡±

    Tristan emerged from the tree and did not see a single fairy dragon. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± he asked.

    Felicity kneaded his head. ¡°They probably left the tree to give you some alone time.¡±

    ¡°Can we leave a message?¡±

    Felicity flew off his head and went to a clay tablet nearby. There were several such tablets stacked up, and wooden, sharp sticks next to them. Her forepaws turned into a pair of hands, and she came over to him. ¡°What do you want to leave?¡±

    ¡°Just thanking them for helping me put my mother to rest. And that we¡¯ll be back once I figure out what happened.¡±

    Felicity nodded and scrawled out the message. After finishing, she flew over to the tree entrance, left it in an alcove that seemed specifically for leaving the tablets, and then returned to her perch upon his head. ¡°Ready to do some investigating?¡±

    Tristan nodded and spun his essence crucible, feeling the cooling, soothing energy surge through him. Directing it into the ring, the whole world turned white, and then a moment later he was standing in the room where his mother had been slain.

    Turning away from the blood, he went back into the hallway. This floor, first. Starting at the far end. He went through the entire second floor of the large country manor and found nothing but shattered and smashed furniture, pillaged rooms, and signs of battle. Not a good battle, but the desperate, no-holds-barred attempts of a person to prevent their death. Glancing over the balcony rail, he grimaced once more at the corpses of the servants.

    So many people he knew so well. From his childhood up through his youth and into young adulthood; every face threatened to revisit upon him countless memories. Descending down the large foyer stairs he began exploring the first floor. Nothing, he thought as he finished his tour of the house.

    The only slain were the servants and his mother, and he grit his teeth and gulped knowing what he had to do next. His father, half-siblings, or grandfather could be in that pile of corpses. Pulling his gauntlets and the cloak off, setting them to the side, he set to the grisly task of moving body parts.

    The stench was horrific, and threatened to overwhelm him multiple times, at which point he had to step away to clear his lungs. But he finally got the pieces sorted out to each person¡¯s body. ¡°They¡¯re not here,¡± he muttered as he went to one of the sides of the foyer, grabbed a curtain, and wiped off his hands.

    ¡°Maybe they escaped into the city? No, that doesn¡¯t make sense. Kidnapped?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Tristan replied as he pushed the sorrow from his thoughts. I need to focus on the here and now. Let¡¯s check the vault. Going to the meat cellar once more, he went to a hidden panel on the wall and triggered the lever. It opened into a room full of expensive bottles of wine. ¡°They didn¡¯t take the good stuff,¡± Tristan observed as he walked through the room.¡±

    Felicity giggled slightly, ¡°Can we take it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t see why not. Technically it belongs to me as much as it does to the rest of the family.¡± Tristan frowned as he added on in his thoughts, If they¡¯re still alive.

    Felicity began flying around the room, tapping each item as it seemed to suck in on itself, its form warping and distorting, before it vanished. Within thirty seconds she had cleared the entire room and landed back on his head. ¡°A lot of wine. Fairy dragons are a riot when drunk.¡±

    Tristan suppressed a chuckle at the thought of even worse jokes, puns, and raunchy humor. Making his way to the back of the hidden wine cellar, he took the family crest from the chain around his neck, slid it into the hidden slot, and turned it. A small knob popped out with tiny, numbered markings. Turning the combination lock, a second one popped out of the wall that required a different code in the opposite direction.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this protecting?¡± Felicity asked.

    Tristan stepped back and pulled his amulet away as the hidden, reinforced, metal door slid aside to reveal a normally dark chamber. But to his eyes, it was illuminated in shades of blue and white. ¡°Can Elves see in the dark?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Duh. Of course. You¡¯ve been doing it the whole time you¡¯ve been down here in the cellar!¡±

    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t white and blue vision before. It just looked normal.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Felicity said as she drew out the word. ¡°That means this is magical darkness. Did they have a specific light source when you came down here?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, grandfather¡¯s lantern.¡± Tristan made his way into the room avoiding the traps on the floor that he knew like the back of his hand.

    ¡°The lantern must be an item of artifice with a higher Order spell than the shadow one that is present.¡± She tapped his head, ¡°What is down here?¡±

    Tristan pointed to a trio of chests. ¡°The family¡¯s reserves.¡± He then pointed to an iron slab of a door with a single spot for the family crest, ¡°And grandfather¡¯s extra weapons and armor.¡± Making his way to the three chests, he opened them and found each to be empty. Even the false bottoms had been cleared out of the precious gemstones.

    ¡°That must mean your family cleared it out before leaving,¡± Felicity stated.

    Tristan sighed and nodded, ¡°Yeah. And they didn¡¯t come into the cellar from the outside door like I did. Which meant they didn¡¯t have to sneak in. They were allowed in the main entrance. And took everything.¡± He went over to the equipment cabinet, slotted in his family crest, and opened it.

    The container was empty, but Tristan knelt and pushed his hand into a tiny crevice, ¡°Grandfather told me about this secret compartment. Only he knew about it, and he said when I was done with my first dragon hunt, he¡¯d give me permission to take what is inside. His secret present for his ¡®little sapling¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Oooh! Treasure? What is it? Also, that is an a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e adorable nickname for little-Tristan!¡±

    Tristan removed the small pouch from the secret compartment, unwrapped it, and held it up to inspect. It was a vial filled with blood. Deep, red blood that was still liquid despite the decades. As he moved it, glimmers of golden light fluttered throughout. ¡°This is a vial of blood from the Arch Dragon of the Elemental Realm of Fire.¡±

    Felicity¡¯s jaw dropped ¨C quite literally, as it distended down and plopped onto the top of his head before retracting. ¡°That¡¯s insane! Why would he keep it?¡±

    Tristan stood up, ¡°He said, ¡®to give it to the heir I deem worthy¡¯.¡± He glanced up at Felicity¡¯s peeking-over-his-head eyes. ¡°Dragonslayer is the bloodline he made. And when he did that, it created a special spell type. Only I, father, Gisele and Bertram have it. Dragonbane.¡±

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    ¡°Oh. But how could you use it if you didn¡¯t have an essence crucible?¡±

    Tristan smiled, ¡°None of us were born with essence crucibles. He just said to treat it like bad alcohol. Down the hatch in one gulp.¡± He popped the lid and chugged it down in a single sip. It tasted extremely spicy; like the hottest dish he had ever had. He was panting as it burned its way down his throat and into his stomach.

    Then came pain. A severe pain like the worst stomach cramp. He fell forward and held himself up on the cabinet, trying to suck in breaths. Each time, it felt like he was inhaling heat from a smith¡¯s forge.

    I need to cool down. This is way too hot! He focused on visualizing his essence crucible and tried to spin it. Closing his eyes to help visualize, he saw the silvery-icy-blue sphere spinning around and around, exuding cooling relief into his limbs. But in that visualization, he saw lines of crimson and gold swirling around and being sucked into the essence crucible. He was cooling down his body and could feel his stomach settling.

    After spinning his essence crucible for who-knows how long, he finally felt cool enough to open his eyes and cease the activity. Felicity wasn¡¯t on his head, but was instead on the floor, looking up at him with a curious and concerned, taut expression. ¡°You¡¯ve changed.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Tristan asked as he coughed a dry cough.

    ¡°Your hair. Still silver, but when you move your head, there are tiny flecks of crimson and gold.¡±

    ¡°All I know-¡± Tristan began to say. But he stopped as he felt a dry coughing fit come on. ¡°Water?¡±

    Felicity sighed and reached her paw out to the side. Space warped, and she was holding a canteen that she handed to him. As he drank it, the still-getting-familiar-with taste of the clearcool quenched his parched throat. Pulling it away, Felicity continued speaking; ¡°And when you were spinning your essence crucible, it was predominantly silver like before, but the icy blue was mixed with slight flares of red and gold.¡±

    Tristan nodded and handed her the canteen which she dismissed back to her extradimensional space. ¡°Grandfather said that those of the Dragonslayer bloodline could drink dragon¡¯s blood to gain power. The spell type of dragonbane lets you siphon more from the corpse. The fresher, the better.¡±

    ¡°He sounds like an interesting fellow,¡± Felicity said, filling the word with as much sense of ¡®eww¡¯ as she could. ¡°Do you know the spell?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°It¡¯s in the Standard Tongue. Called Drain Dragon. It is First Order, but he said with enough essence you could go as high as you wanted by changing the phrasing slightly.¡± He thought back to his lessons where the grandfather had drilled the spell phrase into his and his half-siblings¡¯ heads.

    ¡°Mighty beast which now lays slain, I take from you what you can no longer use and is mine by right of conquest.¡± As he spoke, he made the gesture of bringing his palms together with the right hand stacked on top of the left, and the fingers extended into the shape of a mouth with sharp teeth, slowly closing on each other as the incantation wound to a close.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Felicity muttered as she took her place atop Tristan¡¯s head once more. ¡°What did drinking the blood do for you? Think it might have, I don¡¯t know, given you the ability to resist fire?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan replied as he left the vault and tapped the releases to re-lock it. ¡°According to grandfather, the blood gives me resistance to whatever element matches up with the Elemental Realm they came from. And the spell used on the body is supposed to do something with essence-weaving. Maybe giving you the ability to use that elemental spell type?¡±

    Felicity clapped her paws together, ¡°So exciting! What does the meat do?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Tristan replied with a rueful smile. ¡°Not like meat agrees with me anyways. But back to the matter at hand. I need to figure out who cleared the vault. It had to be grandfather, father, Bertram or Gisele. No one else had crests. And I¡¯ll need money if I¡¯m going to be keeping my identity secret in the capital.¡± He pulled out his coin pouch and held it up for Felicity to see how poor he currently was. ¡°But we do have that mercenary¡¯s coin pouch in your storage dimension.¡±

    ¡°Shame you¡¯ve got such little coin. Oooh! Ooh! But you could always make potions from the Fey Realm and sell them! I know you know how to make medicine, but now with essence and imbuement, you can make clearcool elixirs! Drinking one will be like replacing a meal and serving all your water needs for a day. You could make a killing being the only person who can make and sell them! Just clearcool, starberry, and mix with essence.¡± She tapped his head with rapid-fire happy-taps, ¡°Now I want some sooo badly.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk herblore and alchemy later,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°First we finish exploring.¡±

    ¡°How many more buildings?¡± Felicity asked.

    ¡°Servants quarters and the practice hall which just has the puppets we trained on.¡± Tristan went back up the cellar steps and exited to the bright sunlight. His eyes took a second to adjust. Making his way through the servants¡¯ quarters, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The same for the practice hall.

    ¡°Empty,¡± Felicity muttered. ¡°That sucks.¡±

    And he heard the tramp of armored boots from the dirt road. Quickly re-casting Disguise Form, he went back to the wall, clambered up over the familiar footholds, and dropped onto the other side. ¡°Let¡¯s go get some information from the neighbors.¡±

    <hr>

    First, he went to Mr. Perry¡¯s orchard. The man knew Tristan from his childhood and was always friendly with him; even after his elven side began to show. Sticking to the trees and avoiding the road, he went along the corridors of branches and fruit, earning glances from the few workers that were collecting the harvest.

    The main house was not as large as the Anorox Estate, but that was not for lack of wealth. Rather, it was because Mr. Perry was a very astute businessman who wanted as much of his property to go towards his business as possible. The small, two-story house had a few rooms and not much else. Workers quarters were in separate buildings off to the side.

    Going up to the door and knocking, he stepped back onto the porch and waited patiently with his arms clasped behind his back. The door opened and the familiar, hunched-over and one-legged figure stood there. ¡°Mr. Perry, it has been a while,¡± Tristan said with his best smile he could muster given the situation.

    ¡°Oh? Little Tristan?¡± The elderly man cracked a smile, ¡°Thought you were dead it¡¯s been so long.¡±

    ¡°I wish this was a social visit, but I need answers. What happened to my family?¡±

    ¡°They moved to the city. A few months ago. Everyone except your mother.¡± He cackled, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you came here first. You know your house is right over that way.¡±

    Do I keep it close to the chest or share that mother was killed? Tristan did not know which way to go, so he chose to go with his gut and do what his grandfather had always taught him. Honesty was the best policy. ¡°The Black Company are guarding the entrance.¡±

    ¡°Oh, those thugs. They were harassing my workers for the past few days, but finally buggered off when I complained to the tax collector!¡±

    Tristan held the man¡¯s gaze. The soft, welcoming brown eyes reminding Tristan that he could be open with this man. He had spent many afternoons eating Ms. Perry¡¯s apple pies before the sun went down ¨C and he viewed the man as a trusted uncle. ¡°Mother was killed. All of the servants were killed.¡± He felt a tear well up but pushed the sorrow back.

    Mr. Perry cursed, ¡°Those damned Black Company, I¡¯ll wager.¡±

    ¡°Did my family say why they left?¡±

    The older man shook his head, ¡°Shame¡­mighty shame what happened to your kin. Do you want to come inside? Have some tea?¡±

    ¡°I need to find my grandfather,¡± Tristan replied.

    ¡°Oh, well him, he¡¯s been gone for a few months. Went off to hunt a big dragon that was harassing the north of the kingdom.¡±

    Oh, thank the gods, Tristan thought. Whatever fate befell his mother had not met his grandfather. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. ¡°What about my father and siblings?¡±

    ¡°Your father went to the south, dealing with a different dragon. I swear, things are starting to look like the Dragonstorm all over again.¡±

    He was referring to a time in the kingdom of Bhant¡¯s history a little less than fifty years prior. A time when the portals to the Elemental Realms were ripped open by an insane archon. The high-Order essence-weaver was slain, but the time the rifts were open allowed dozens of dragons and elementals to break through to the Mortal Realm.

    ¡°If it¡¯s just two, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that bad.¡±

    ¡°I think your sister got married while you were gone. A half-year ago, I think? The days blur together a bit.¡±

    Good for her, Tristan thought. The siblings might have grown further apart when his half-breed traits began to show themselves ¨C mostly at his father¡¯s insistence. But Gisele would sometimes sneak into Tristan¡¯s room and play block building games with him. ¡°What about Bertram?¡±

    At that, Mr. Perry¡¯s face went sour, ¡°Ah, he went off to join the Pathfinders. Rash boy, always was, always will be.¡±

    Tristan full-well knew the truth of those words. Bertram had a temper, and he was quick to anger, but he was also boisterous and fun-loving. Rowdy fun. Wrestling the smaller Tristan and pinning him despite his cries of pain. ¡°Well, at least he¡¯s safe, too.¡±

    ¡°Seems like they wanted your mother. But why stick around?¡± Mr. Perry tapped his cane. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make much sense, now, does it? And why not sell the house?¡±

    And why was the vault cleared? The best explanation he could think of was some time in the last two years the family had moved the bulk of their belongings and valuables to the capital. But his mother stayed behind, and so the servants were left there as well. She probably didn¡¯t want them to have to uproot their whole lives, he thought. Those servant quarters were miniature houses, the servants had families. They were like a microcosm of a community.

    So they were after mother, most likely. But why stick around? A thought hit him, and it brought him great sorrow and rage. Did father have her killed? So he could remarry?

    ¡°Uh, Tristan? You okay m¡¯boy?¡±

    Tristan nodded and swallowed the lump that was in his throat, ¡°Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking.¡±

    ¡°Lad¡­I¡¯m sorry,¡± Mr. Perry put a hand on Tristan¡¯s forearm and squeezed it gently. ¡°You must be devastated. If you want to stay, you are more than welcome to.¡±

    Tristan bowed his head slightly and tucked his symbol of nobility under his armor, ¡°Thank you, but I really need to see my sister and find out what happened.¡±

    ¡°Ah, she was mighty fine in her dress. Like my late wife. Stunning, absolutely gorgeous.¡± The man sighed as he gazed off towards the now-beginning sunset, reminiscing.

    ¡°Thank you again, Mr. Perry.¡±

    ¡°No problem lad.¡±

    Tristan turned and left, heading across the various fields and orchards towards the capital outskirts. Keeping away from the main roads.

    I have to know what happened.

    He hadn¡¯t noticed Felicity leaving his head, as he was too sucked into the conversation with Mr. Perry. But she landed on his head and he heard sounds of happy consumption. The ¡°mmm!¡± and ¡°Oh, that¡¯s tasty,¡± piqued his interest. ¡°What you eating?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I saw a pie on the windowsill. Lots of them. Only took a little slice, promise!¡±

    Tristan sighed and frowned a little, ¡°As long as it was just one slice, I suppose there¡¯s not much harm.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm!¡± he heard the sounds of lips smacking, and then her little paw-claw held a chunk of the pie down for him. ¡°It¡¯s good!¡±

    Tristan accepted the offered morsel and popped it in his mouth, savoring the flaky pastry and cinnamon-raisin-apple center. The Perry family always made the best pies.

 Chapter 13: Divination is worth the price

    ¡°Last time I was here,¡± Felicity commented as they came into sight of the city¡¯s walls, ¡°I didn¡¯t¡¯ get much information about the capital. I just broke into the palace and stole the scepter; well, that, and then I lifted the king¡¯s chamber pot, and dumped it on his head while he slept.¡± She giggled and then laughed before composing herself after a few seconds.

    ¡°Are you asking me for a lesson?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Sure. Since we will have to wait in that line for a few hours it looks like. Don¡¯t forget to refresh your spell¡­subtlety.¡±

    Tristan began his explanation as he stepped into the back of the line, talking quietly so as not to attract much attention. ¡°Bhant¡¯s Holdfast was named after its founding ruler; an ancient Demonkin who moved a group of his people out of their home and into the Mortal Realm. Just like the other heritages, they intermingled with Humans and Demihumans, producing half-breeds.¡±

    ¡°Like you! Well, like past-you, since that whole ¡®infusion of essence¡¯ thing from entering the Fey Realm effectively made you a full elf.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Sure. Anyways, over the thousands of years, people kept having kids with mixed heritages; but Human heritage is strong, for whatever reason, and most of the time the non-Human features were suppressed.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but your mother was a full-blooded Elf! I know they stick mostly to their own kind for the purposes of having kids.¡±

    ¡°Right. So since my father is effectively fully human, I was guaranteed to have my mother¡¯s heritage manifest in a physical way sometime before puberty.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s when you get hair growing all over the place, right?¡±

    Tristan sighed, ¡°Yes, that time. When people get bigger.¡±

    She giggled, ¡°Oh, bigger, you say? See, us superior fairy dragons don¡¯t have this ¡®puberty¡¯ you have.¡±

    Lucky you, Tristan thought as he remembered getting made fun of by Bertram and the older youth at court for his inability to grow a beard, and his partly-pointed ears. ¡°The kingdom of Bhant is Human-centric.¡±

    ¡°Kind of ironic in a way,¡± Felicity replied as she kneaded his head making kitty-dragon biscuits on his skull. ¡°Since everyone here is just a little bit of a mutt.¡± To emphasize this, she barked like a basset hound, and Tristan chuckled at the odd noise she hadn¡¯t made before.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Tristan continued as he kept going forward in the line. ¡°Most of the population considers themselves Human, unless they¡¯ve got a physical manifestation of their heritage. Like scales for someone with a Drakonid parent far down their family tree.¡±

    ¡°Or pale skin for a Vantir!¡± Felicity added. ¡°Must be easy for them, they can just claim they never go outside.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Mhmm. Some people have an easier time hiding it. It¡¯s why I grew my hair out.¡±

    Felicity ran her paw-claw along his long, pointed ears that jutted further back and up at an angle from his head, poking well out past his hair ¨C but currently visually hidden thanks to the illusion spell. ¡°No hiding this with hair unless you wear it in a ridiculous bun.¡±

    The wall came closer into view, and he nudged towards it with his chin, ¡°Argont¡¯s Resolve. First line of defense for the city.¡±

    ¡°Oooh, who is ¡®Argont¡¯? If you know, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Ancient warrior who defended the city from some type of invasion,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I didn¡¯t pay a ton of attention to history lessons. I was more interested in dragons.¡±

    ¡°Guess the guy was ¡®ar-gone¡¯ from your lessons. Ehhh?¡±

    ¡°Bad pun.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that one was a reach,¡± Felicity admitted solemnly.

    At the base of the wall was a cleared area, and then buildings ¨C towns all around the exterior that helped act as a go-between from the farmlands and surrounding estates and the capital itself.

    If I¡¯m going to be blending in, I need to cover this up. Thankfully it was a relatively cool day, and some of the merchants were selling cloaks to people standing in line. Tristan flagged one down and used a little bit of his remaining funds to purchase a simple one to throw over his armor.

    Felicity was kneading his head again, and she let out a little giggle. ¡°This place looks way more impressive from below. Last time I flew in.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yeah, it is beautiful,¡± he whispered. Even with the wall in the way, he could see the enormous, main corridor that went from the gate all the way up through the various districts leading to the enormous, black-stone, gothic castle where the king¡¯s court was located.

    But it is dangerous for me now, he thought as he did not jump the line to show his noble seal to expedite entry. He did not know who his foes were, the people who had slain his mother and the servants in the countryside estate.

    ¡°Keep an eye out for anyone who is staring at me,¡± Tristan whispered as he kept his head on a swivel.

    Felicity rotated and sat down on his head, looking back behind him. ¡°No problem!¡± Her tail swished over his forehead and down in front of him, and he had to move it aside and tuck it behind his ear to keep his line of sight unobstructed.

    Getting into the capital was easy enough. They were only checking merchants for contraband and ensuring they had a valid market pass ¨C meaning they paid annual dues for the right to sell in the main square ¨C or they purchased a day pass. Instead of taxes, the kingdom of Bhant used this system of permits and passes to create income for public works projects, paying the military, and paying city personnel salaries.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of black armored guys here,¡± Felicity commented. ¡°Two groups going down the line behind us, questioning people. Must have been on their lunch break if they didn¡¯t see us before.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be in soon,¡± Tristan replied as he reached the split for merchants and regular visitors or residents. Those with resident permits or noble seals were expedited, and the rest had to pay for a pass for a set amount of time to be in the city. A week-long pass should be fine, Tristan thought as he paid the fee and was given a strip of imbued cloth that would turn red when his time was up. Attaching the small cloth to the outside of his cloak with a pin, he ventured into the capital proper.

    ¡°I can go all the way up to Highreach before I¡¯ll need to either get inventive or reveal myself.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s where all the fancy folk live.¡± Felicity gripped his head and tugged to the left, ¡°Alley! Quick!¡±

    Tristan ducked into an alley and kept walking leisurely, as if he was heading to a business he was familiar with. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°There was a person with Elf traits. I didn¡¯t want to risk them spotting me. I think it¡¯ll be fine, though, since they were surrounded by people jeering at them.¡± She crawled down his head, around his shoulders, and burrowed her way inside of his cloak, becoming a furry-scaled scarf. ¡°There. Harder to see me.¡± She flicked her tail up to lightly flick his nose. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t invisible, I¡¯d be quite the fashion statement.¡±

    Tristan sighed with relief, ¡°I thought it would be something dangerous like the guards chasing after us.¡±

    ¡°Nope! They were too far back. So, what¡¯s the game plan?¡±

    ¡°I need to find out how my sister is doing,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°And find someone who can give me information on what happened to mother and the estate. Since The Black Company was guarding the gatehouse, it either means that the military was involved in some way, or they were paid to be there. I doubt it¡¯s the former.¡± Tristan kept walking out of the alley and onto another main road, turning to head up the upper districts.

    Felicity pondered aloud, ¡°Hmmm¡­Interesting¡­Perhaps¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Just trying to sound profound,¡± she said with a giggle. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about this stuff. Where should we start figuring things out?¡± She lowered her voice even more, and it took on a sinister tone, ¡°What if your sister was involved? Until you rule her out, you shouldn¡¯t visit her.¡±

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    That suggestion struck Tristan like a bolt of lightning. Any one of his living family ¨C save for his grandfather, since there was no way the man would have killed his mother ¨C could have taken from the family¡¯s vault and then killed off everyone to keep them quiet. And the more he thought on it, the more various reasons he could come up with.

    Father might have paid for The Black Company to kill mother so her could remarry. Bertram always wanted all the gear in the vault, but grandfather said no. Gisele might have used the family¡¯s treasury to secure her spot among the nobility by paying her own dowry.

    ¡°You could be right,¡± he muttered. He could feel his blood boiling at the idea that his mother was killed for greed, or, more likely in his mind, by his bastard of a father.

    Felicity patted his cheek, ¡°Calm down. We¡¯ll figure out who is behind it. And we can get revenge!¡± She extended a claw-paw in front of his face and revealed a wickedly sharp talon. ¡°Or we could just bring them to the authorities. But I think it would be more fun to just ruin their life with a series of harmful pranks.¡±

    He absentmindedly reached a hand up and ran it along Felicity¡¯s tail hanging over his left shoulder. ¡°The best way to find out more information is to get a divination spell from an essence-weaver.¡±

    ¡°The Matriarch can do those! But, sadly, divination is limited to the Realm the person is in when the spell is used.¡± She tapped his chin, ¡°Keep that chin up! We¡¯ll figure something out! I¡¯m sure there are loads of mages here. It¡¯s a big city!¡±

    Tristan checked his coin pouch once more. Three gold pieces, he thought. Maybe enough to get a general sense of direction¡­but it would have to be from someone who could be discrete. I¡¯ll have to share details¡­or¡­He pulled the choker his mother was wearing out of his pocket. They could look into the past of this and see what happened. He knew a bit about divination spells, as his father had lost something at court and paid a mage to help him find it; dragging the kids along with him so they¡¯d learn how a noble deals with their problems. They can check the history of the choker and give me an idea of who was involved.

    He set a course for an unfamiliar to him but well-known part of Bhant¡¯s Holdfast. The Towers. A neighborhood of spiraling buildings that ascended into the skies. The first floors were often shops for magical wares, goods, and services. The upper levels of the spires were devoted to study, research, and gods-knows what else.

    The streets were full of people going to or from destinations. And almost all of them were well-dressed in pants, shirts, and cloaks of shimmering colors denoting their place at the upper crust of society. Those who could use spells of the lower Orders; mages and sorcerers, were the equivalent of lesser nobility ¨C the same level as Tristan¡¯s family. Those who could use higher Orders; wizards and archons were the equivalent of upper nobility.

    And they behaved like they were better, too. Tristan¡¯s cloak was some dull, brown cloth that stood out as being inappropriate to the environment, but he dared not take it off as his family¡¯s suits of armor made them stand out and identified them immediately to these more upper-class folk: the dull, white armor with the black filigree was a clear indicator of that much.

    ¡°There are so many spells going on!¡± Felicity squealed out with delight as her head dashed side to side. ¡°I can see so many!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, there are a lot,¡± Tristan replied as he, too, saw the air thick with the haze that signified magic was present or spells were in the process of being used or already had been used, and the effects were just lingering. Then there were the more overt displays of essence-weaving, where color bursts of flame, floating strands of water, and scented, colored winds blew past.

    Tristan made his way towards a building with a glass orb hanging from a sign that said DIVINER scrawled in a glowing, green paint. He entered and heard a small bell chime. The entryway was filled with frosty, glass orbs set into padded sockets on shelves, and there were couches covered with green cloth. The room was illuminated by a floating, orange orb from above, and Tristan sat down as he waited for someone to answer the bell.

    Further into the building was a counter with a section that could be raised up, and from a back room, an elderly Human woman came out. She was dressed in fine, silk robes of deep, forest green with a cloak of light yellow. ¡°Ah, a customer. From the lower districts.¡± Her voice became more disappointed as she tapped her long, well-manicured fingernail on the countertop.

    Tristan got up and approached the counter, pulling out his coin pouch and placing all his remaining money on the counter, ¡°I need a divination to find some answers.¡± I still have the silver, electrum, and copper in Felicity¡¯s extradimensional storage. But hopefully three gold pieces is enough.

    She leaned forward on the countertop, ¡°One gold piece for a divination. For that, you get everything I experience during the spell.¡± She pulled one piece from the small stack. ¡°And, if you want me to not tell anyone what we discover, as I am such a gossip once I¡¯m into my cups-¡± she pulled the second coin into her palm. ¡°If you want to watch what I discover with your own eyes-¡± she took the last coin from the countertop.

    Tristan nodded and pulled out the choker. ¡°The woman wearing this was murdered.¡± He placed it on the countertop. ¡°I need to know everything you can about the circumstances of her death. Especially who was there.¡±

    The woman nodded and lifted the countertop¡¯s hinged section, ¡°Please, come back to my divining chamber since you paid for the premium service. Be aware, you paid for a Third Order spell. That means we will only see about ten minutes of the time surrounding the events you describe.¡±

    Tristan followed her back to the room behind the counter and saw a series of couches arrayed in a circle, with a spiral staircase ascending further up at the very back recesses of the chamber. In the center of the circle of couches was a comfortable chair set up before a massive, crystal orb. It appeared to be fully empty, and the diviner sat down in front of the sphere, gesturing to a couch. Taking a seat, Tristan leaned forward. Oh, Demon¡¯s Tongue. Interesting.

    Her eyes closed and she incanted a phrase as she clasped her hands over the orb, ¡°R¨¦v¨¦lez-moi les ¨¦v¨¦nements qui ont entour¨¦ cet objet. Montrez-moi dans cet orbe un souvenir du pass¨¦.¡± (Reveal to me the events surrounding this object. Show me within this orb a recollection of the past). She set the choker on the orb, and it went through the crystal sphere before floating as if in liquid to the center.

    The entire sphere surface went opaque white and Tristan sucked in a slight gasp of air as he saw his mother, sitting in her chair, reading a book. It was as if he was in the ceiling, looking down from above. The diviner spoke softly, ¡°I can move forward in time from this. We¡¯ll stop when we see something noteworthy, and I can slow it down. But we must be quick; this spell is Third Order, and somewhat essence intensive.¡±

    She placed her right hand on the orb and began to turn it, and Tristan saw the image speed up from its frozen-in-time status. The wind was blowing in through the open window, and his mother was gently rocking back and forth as she flipped pages. She was talking to herself as she read ¨C a habit she had always had ¨C and hearing her voice made Tristan immediately tear up. Focus, he thought as he wiped the tears away.

    There was a slight blur of activity, and the diviner slowed down the time until everything was moving in slow-motion. Tristan saw a shadow cross the doorway, and his mother had not moved. They got inside and she was the first to die ¨C there¡¯s no way she would have just sat there idly while the servants were slaughtered. So she was the target.

    A figure in dark-grey traveler¡¯s gear approached silently from behind, and Tristan forced himself to watch as he walked up behind his mother, gripped her forehead with one hand, and cut into her throat with the knife held in the other. ¡°Felicity,¡± he whispered. ¡°Memorize every detail.¡±

    ¡°Already on it,¡± she whispered back.

    Tristan saw his mother bleed out within seconds, and the figure held her still until she stopped moving. As he turned to leave, his cloak flared up slightly from the motion, and he made out the edges of a symbol. ¡°Stop it there!¡±

    The diviner did so, and Tristan committed the portion of the symbol to memory. A bronze-colored spike protruding from what looks like the edge of a flower petal of some type. ¡°Okay, slowly move it forward, please.¡±

    The diviner did so, and Tristan was not able to make out any more features about the person. ¡°Okay, can you reverse it back to when this assassin first entered the room?¡± Once more, the diviner did as she was asked, and Tristan looked at the person, taking in their height compared to the door frame he knew so well, as his mother had measured him using that same frame as he grew up. It was definitely a male assassin, judging from the muscles under their clothing. But everything was nondescript and could be found in any marketplace or clothier.

    Except that emblem, and that dagger. He¡¯d never seen a dagger like that before, and as he was looking at it, the spell fizzled. The diviner sucked in a breath of air and frowned as she leaned back, ¡°That was a violent end. My condolences. Although¡­investigating the death of an Elf?¡±

    Tristan looked at the diviner, ¡°Thank you. The choker?¡±

    The diviner nodded and leaned forward, rapping her knuckle against the orb. The choker floated up to the surface, as if it was being hoisted aloft by a small string, before it emerged from the solid sphere. She picked up the item and got up, walking it over to him. ¡°I trust you saw what you needed?¡±

    Tristan nodded and stood up, ¡°Thank you. How much would it be to have you divine something from within another divination? Like that dagger?¡±

    ¡°Cannot be done, I am afraid. I need intimate knowledge.¡± She pointed at the choker, ¡°This counts, since it is from the scene of the crime. If I had the knife I could tell you about who made it, where it was from, whose hands it was in¡­but without the item? The spell required to just ¡®ask¡¯ the tapestry of the world¡¯s knowledge would be above the Tenth Order.¡± She smiled ruefully, ¡°And I do not have the bloodline appropriate to that, nor nearly enough essence capacity.¡± She tutted, ¡°Tsk. Sorry. Most rabble don¡¯t know what all that means. Suffice to say, I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°It would be expensive, correct?¡±

    ¡°Oh, very. You¡¯d have to go to my mentor.¡± She gestured to the shop front, ¡°I can point out his tower, if you¡¯d like. Just make sure you tell him that Frieda sent you.¡± Tristan nodded and when he got to the front door he held it open as the woman thanked him, stepped outside, and pointed at a huge, broad-based tower. ¡°That is his divination academy. He teaches classes in the mornings and afternoon, but evenings he has appointments.¡±

    ¡°Any idea about price?¡±

    She chuckled, ¡°Lad, you¡¯d better have a whole heap of gold coins for that type of spell.¡± She went back inside, and Tristan let the door shut.

    Felicity tapped his chin to get his attention as she whispered, ¡°We got some information at least. Male, a little taller than you, a bit more muscular but with skimpier legs, the unique dagger he used, and some of that flower-like symbol.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Let¡¯s find a place where I can channel essence without drawing attention. We need money for this higher divination, and these¡­clearcool elixirs, as you called them? Those sound like they might be our ticket to that.¡±

 Chapter 14: Mix, stir, and mix more!

    Tristan left The Towers and headed back towards the middle levels of the city. The whole time he was walking, he was spinning his essence crucible, feeling the cool, refreshing breeze inside his chest that comforted him despite the disquiet at learning details surrounding his mother¡¯s murder.

    Every rotation of the essence crucible, every time he spun it, he could almost see small sparkles of icy-blue energy cascading with silver in the edges of his vision. Interspersed within were tiny pops of crimson and gold. Must be from the dragon blood, he thought. An indicator that I¡¯ve consumed it. I wonder if I use the Drain Dragon spell on a fire dragon¡­will the color shift be more prominent?

    The essence wasn¡¯t just flowing through his body ¨C the whole time he was pushing it into the ring, readying to get his plan underway. As soon as he reached a safe location away from any possible discovery, he could transport back to the Fey Realm. As long as he was focusing most of his attention on it, he could keep the ring ¡®on standby¡¯ once it was primed. But if he was doing something like fighting? He¡¯d have to gather it all over again.

    Felicity was on watch from around his neck. Sometimes she popped behind his head when someone she spotted with Elf heritage ¨C even a tiny, tiny trace ¨C came within view.

    He found a place that suited his needs after thirty minutes. The Raven¡¯s Rook, an inn and tavern that was just on the outskirts of a major marketplace; one of several marketplaces throughout the capital. The building was packed, and Tristan pushed his way through the crowd, past the bar, the tables, the bards singing their merry tunes and playing a rendition of, ¡°The Demon went down to Bhant¡± which was a fast-paced, violin-focused ditty. At the far end of the common room was a set of stairs, and a small desk with a young man seated behind it.

    Tristan walked up, ¡°Got any rooms for rent?¡±

    The young man nodded, pulled a ledger from a nook on the wall where several recesses holding keys was, and flipped the ledger open. ¡°You wanna bunk up with strangers or your own room?¡±

    ¡°My own, please.¡±

    ¡°One electrum piece per night, paid in advance.¡±

    Tristan reached into his pocket for his coin pouch, pulled it out, and grimaced. Right, I didn¡¯t get it from Felicity¡¯s extradimensional space.

    Almost as if she was reading his mind, her tail swished down, there was a slight warping inside the bag, and the pouch of coins he had taken off the mercenary guard was sitting inside his pouch. Pulling out three electrum pieces, he set them down onto the counter.

    The man took the pieces and looked up expectantly at Tristan, ¡°Name for the ledger?¡±

    Tristan slipped another two electrum pieces onto the counter, ¡°How about you just put down Mr. Smith.¡±

    The man scribbled the name down, reached into the alcoves and pulled a key out before handing it to him, ¡°Upstairs, fifth door on the left.¡± He pocketed the extra electrum.

    Tristan made his way up to the room and entered the clean, dimly lit space. A window faced out to a backyard where one could see the outhouses and the small stables. There was a single person bed, a small basin for water sitting on a wooden stand, and a trunk with a lock and a key already inserted in the lock, waiting for use.

    Felicity unwound herself from around his neck and flew up to his head, ¡°Well, back to the Fey Realm we go!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, here we go,¡± Tristan replied as he made sure to lock the door, sat on the bed, and activated the ring. The whole world went white, and almost instantaneously he was in the area before the Queen¡¯s Wood.

    Unlike their last time departing, there were dozens of fairy dragons flying to and fro, from place to place. Once they noticed Tristan, they paused, bowed or saluted, and then went about their business. Felicity flew out from his neck and clapped her hands, ¡°Alright people! Get over here!¡±

    ¡°Up yours!¡± one of the passing fairy dragons shouted.

    Felicity stuck her tongue out the passing denizen, pivoted in the air, and faced Tristan with a pouty face, ¡°I should get a little respect since I¡¯m accompanying our ¡®mighty leader¡¯, but nooooo.¡±

    Tristan smirked at her over the top expression before clearing his throat and speaking up. ¡°Hey, everyone? I could use some help.¡±

    Dozens of fairy dragons dropped what they were doing, flew over to Tristan, and landed on the ground in front of him. Their voices were saying various versions of, ¡°I¡¯m here¡± or ¡°What do you need?¡± that overlapped and formed a discordant choir.

    Tristan raised his hands for them to quiet down. ¡°Please listen to Felicity for a moment.¡±

    Felicity beamed and looked at the arrayed fairy dragons, ¡°Thank you. Now, Trist- erm, Lord Tristan, requires clearcool, starberries, and any alchemy equipment we have. Bring it all up to the top boughs!¡±

    The various fairy dragons dashed off in different directions. Some into the forest and trees surrounding the enormous main trunk, some to go and pick up earthenware pots that they carried in groups of two to four over towards the river.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go inside,¡± Felicity said as she beckoned Tristan to follow. ¡°We are going up the tree!¡±

    ¡°How far up?¡± Tristan asked as he entered the large, hollow center of the massive edifice.

    Felicity pointed at the ramp, ¡°To the top!¡±

    That is a good distance to go up, Tristan thought as he knew his legs would be throbbing by the time he got up there. Easily three hundred feet.

    The climb up was not that bad, surprisingly. Felicity just flapped in lazy circles around the central spire, and Tristan followed the winding protrusion of the central trunk up into the higher interior space. There were plenty of holes that led out to wide branches, and all through the inside walls were small nests. Those nests were similar to weaver nests; a whole bunch of strands, vines, leaves, and other ¡®fluffy¡¯ looking plant offal that were bundled into cozy, single-occupant spaces.

    To his surprise, Tristan wasn¡¯t tired at all from the short climb. He was full of energy, and the normal soreness that would build up in his legs was not present. Must be because of the ambient essence, he thought. Somehow keeping me refreshed or something like that? The tree center kept spiraling up, but he came to what Felicity called the top bough.

    The tree had, through some magics of ancient times past, a large, flat expanse that was shrouded from below by the branches and leaves, veiling sight of this upper level. Above was a larger canopy that spread out with shimmering, white leaves. There were four platforms splitting off the central, circular space, and one platform was already occupied by a large spyglass that extended up, pointing to the stars. Tristan felt himself drawn to it, and Felicity flew past him, circling around the weird item.

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    ¡°This thing has been here for f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Kind of pretty.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s an astrologer¡¯s glass! Really old, when the Elves used to study the stars for signs of the future.¡±

    Tristan walked over and followed where Felicity pointed; a tiny aperture with a glass covering. Wiping it free of some dust, he peered through and felt his breath catch in his lungs. He saw swirling colors unlike anything he had ever imagined before. Blues, greens, purples, pinks; all hues of the rainbow and more were dancing in an intertwining display of the cosmos overhead.

    Felicity grabbed his hand and guided it to an odd wheel, ¡°Give this a turn for left to right.¡± She grabbed his other hand and brought it to a lever, ¡°This one goes up and down.¡±

    Tristan messed with the controls, spending an unknown amount of time just taking in the beauty and gorgeousness of the endless expanse. It was mesmerizing, and for however long he spent, he was completely sucked into the sight of the stars above. Endless possibilities seemed to swirl in the infinite expanse, and for that time he had no thoughts, no emotions save for wonder.

    He only pulled away when he noticed his stomach rumbling. ¡°How long have I been standing here?¡± he asked.

    Felicity was curled up on top of the astrologer¡¯s glass and seemed to be fast asleep, her little body moving up and down with her breathing. Glancing around, Tristan walked to the edge of the platform and looked over, feeling that tumbling feeling of his stomach flipping from looking down from on high. From this height, he could see what felt like the whole Fey Realm.

    Endless forests expanded to the horizon, with rivers of the clearcool coursing through the landscape. A handful of large trees, similar to the Queen¡¯s Wood, dotted the environment. And the more he looked, the more Tristan realized that each quadrant was a different variety of trees; similar insofar that there were non-natural colors of yellows, oranges, blues, and purples mixed in with the green. Maybe different sections of the Fey Realm for each of the four Elf bloodlines, he reasoned. Different types of trees for the different groups.

    As far as he could tell, the endless forest expanded onward. Save for a hilly region to the west, which was where he came from the first time he came to the Fey Realm; those hills led up into a large mountain range, and on the top was another enormous tree. What¡¯s that?

    He heard flapping behind him and waved as The Matriarch landed on the platform, ¡°Lord Tristan. I trust your investigation goes well?¡±

    He nodded, ¡°Yes. We have some clues. But I need coins.¡±

    She smiled slightly, ¡°That explains the supplies on the east platform.¡± She gestured with her head, and Tristan followed the movement to see a bunch of fairy dragons on the opposite platform from him that was being set up as an alchemy lab. The same type his grandfather had taught him basic potion-crafting at. Or, rather, the equipment looked similar enough. Tristan walked over and The Matriarch followed him.

    ¡°Familiar with alchemy?¡± The Matriarch asked.

    ¡°Yeah, but nothing using imbuement. Just the concepts and principles behind potion crafting.¡± Tristan thanked the fairy dragons with a polite bow, and they returned the gesture. There was a stovetop, but no wood, and as he looked at the front of the device, he saw words in Elvish that slowly shifted until he could read them. Ah, its an item of artifice. He placed his hands on the panel on the front, spun up his essence crucible, and pushed the soothing, cool energy through his arms and into the device.

    The Matriarch lifted an earthenware pot full of clearcool and set it onto the stove top that began to heat up, glowing a soft, cherry-red. ¡°Well, for the Fey Realm, clearcool is the equivalent of water in the Mortal Realm. When heated, it will become a liquid instead of a loose jelly. It still maintains its refreshing quality, but in that state, it can be subjected to alchemical solutions.¡±

    ¡°Felicity said something about clearcool elixirs. We were going to sell them to get the coin needed to divine more information about my mother¡¯s killer.¡±

    ¡°Easy enough. Starberry, into the mortar and pestle. Grind it up to a fine paste, adding bits of heated clearcool until you eventually have a smooth solution. Then, you need to use an imbuement spell. Without the spell, it would just be a refreshing and filling beverage. But with the addition of essence? It becomes a fluid that can replace all of a creature¡¯s food and water needs.¡±

    Tristan nodded and followed the instructions, grabbing the largest of the mortars and grinding up the starberries until they were smooth. Taking a large ladle, he slowly added the warmed clearcool, constantly using the pestle to combine the two ingredients. ¡°Okay, the spell?¡±

    ¡°It is called Infuse Elixir.¡±

    She had him repeat after her, and as he did so, he made the gesture of dipping his finger down and swirled the solution. ¡°Lis?? t?m?n liuoksen luontaisia ominaisuuksia. Anna t?lle aineelle minun voimani. Tuo esiin n?iden ainesosien todellinen luonne.¡± (Increase the inherent qualities of this solution. Imbue this substance with my power. Bring out the true nature of these ingredients).

    The slurry thickened and glowed with a cerulean light as his silver and icy-blue essence poured from his finger. With each swirl, the spiral expanded throughout the solution. Tristan began to tire, and he started panting as the essence permeated the whole mixture. ¡°Stop,¡± The Matriarch instructed.

    Tristan did so, and the slurry kept the same glow. The Matriarch whistled ¨C quite loudly, as Tristan winced ¨C and several fairy dragons swooped in. She instructed them to bottle the solution, and their claw-paws turned into little hands as they set to bottling the clearcool elixir into hollowed-out, wooden jars that they capped off with broad leaves, tying off some vine to keep it sealed shut.

    ¡°Excellent job, Lord Tristan,¡± she said with pride. ¡°That is high quality.¡±

    ¡°What Order spell was that?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°First Order. You are aware of potions, yes?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Those are herbal remedies ¨C normally liquid. They are good for all sorts of ailments.¡±

    ¡°Elixirs are a tier above potions, because they use essence. The Infuse Elixir spell enables you to take a potion ¨C like that clearcool potion you started with ¨C and empower its effects.¡±

    That¡¯s really useful. I already know the recipe for a lot of basic remedies, but being able to amplify the effect is going to mean I can do some potent healing in a pinch¡­provided I have the ingredients. A twang of guilt raced through him, as if he had known this or experimented earlier, he could have maybe saved that girl Steffany¡¯s mother from losing a foot. I need to be more diligent with studying essence-weaving now that I have access to it. ¡°Thank you for the lesson,¡± he said as he dipped his head to The Matriarch.

    ¡°My privilege to foster your growth, Lord Tristan.¡±

    ¡°Are there higher Order imbuement spells?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there are, but I do not believe your essence channels could handle it; when you are ready, I will teach. Tell me, how does your current essence capacity feel?¡±

    Tristan smiled as the short break had almost fully replenished his reserves, and when he closed his eyes and visualized his essence crucible, he saw it full up to the brim, a sphere completely full. ¡°I think I¡¯m full up.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± The Matriarch looked at the various earthenware bottles, ¡°How much did you want to sell?¡±

    <hr>

    A few hours passed and Tristan had almost set up an assembly line of sorts. Fairy dragons flew in more starberries and clearcool, he made the potion, imbued it with his essence using the Infuse Elixir spell, and then other fairy dragons bottled them. He made sure to swap out his Fey Realm Ring so that he could avoid the twenty-four-hour return timer. I have a feeling that I might need to come back for the rest of the stock.

    But despite his body not tiring, and his essence quickly refilling thanks to the amount of the latent energy in the Realm that only he was sucking in, his mind was tiring. He began making sloppy mistakes, and after finishing their two-hundredth bottle, he thanked the helpers. ¡°Can you please get a chest or some type of box with padding so I can carry all of these?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative!¡±

    ¡°You got it!¡±

    ¡°Oooh, free samples, right?¡±

    Tristan chuckled and nodded, ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll only take fifty to sell this time around.¡± He picked up two, drinking one himself. It had a sweet, minty flavor that soothed its way down his throat. When it hit his stomach, he felt full as if he had eaten a huge meal. That¡¯ll be handy on the road, he thought. I wonder if I could change the flavor by adding different ingredients...

    The idea that he could do more than just basic potions with alchemy excited him greatly. He returned to Felicity, who was still snoozing on the Astrologer¡¯s Glass. She had flipped onto her back, and she was draped over the eyeglass. Tristan poked her belly, and she slowly opened her eyes before yawning. ¡°Mmm. A goooood nap.¡±

    ¡°Six hours,¡± Tristan said as he handed her the jar. ¡°Go on, try my first batch.¡±

    Felicity immediately roused to full attention, flipped over, and chugged the small container. ¡°Ahhh! I haven¡¯t had that in sooo long!¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Tristan asked. ¡°You¡¯ve got the gear and ingredients.¡±

    ¡°Fairy dragons can¡¯t use imbuement or artifice,¡± she replied. ¡°Illusion, enchanting, shapeshifting ¨C we get all of those. But anything else? Just up to whimsy and luck! I got lucky with transmutation¡­but since few other fairy dragons have that spell type¡­well, I don¡¯t know many spells using it.¡± At that she deflated slightly. ¡°If we make enough money off of this first batch sale for divination, and have some left over¡­can you buy me something to teach me some?¡±

    Tristan nodded as he began walking to the center of the tree spire. ¡°Yeah. Of course. We¡¯ll get a few spell primers. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m going to take a nap. Mind storing the goods?¡±

    ¡°Leave it to me!¡±

 Chapter 15: Making money in the market

    Tristan had Felicity store fifty of the leaf-covered jars inside her extradimensional storage space before reactivating his ring and sending the two back to the Mortal Realm. Repeating the Disguise Form spell, he left the building with Felicity hanging around his neck once more.

    ¡°Where we heading?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°Hopefully some place I can get up to no good!¡±

    Tristan kept walking into the busy marketplace, ¡°One of the reasons I chose that inn,¡± he said as he began scanning for a specific building. It was mid-day, and people were selling foodstuffs out of various carts, along with beverages at very inflated prices. ¡°Ah! There it is.¡± He pointed out a stone building with a sign hanging over the door. In very neat Standard Tongue script, it read The Pathfinder Company, and under that it was scrawled in every single language.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Felicity whispered as she tucked herself back into the recesses of his burlap hood.

    ¡°Mix of a mercenary company and adventuring outfit,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°They have the only cross-world transit network, and they do not let anyone except their designated Pathfinders use it. They¡¯re not sworn to a single kingdom. Think of it like a guild for folks who want to go on adventures.¡±

    ¡°Like your brother, according to apple-pie man.¡±

    ¡°Yes, like Bertram,¡± Tristan said with a nod. ¡°They always need potions and elixirs. Selling them travel supplies in bulk, directly to the organization, is the best way to keep my identity somewhat discrete.¡±

    ¡°You could just use a different form.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tristan asked as he stopped in the middle of the crowd a few feet from the door.

    ¡°Yeah, duck into that alley towards the outhouses I can smell from here.¡± Tristan did so, and Felicity whispered in his ear as he walked. ¡°When you use the Disguise Form spell, you need to visualize what you want to look like. You can change your appearance ¨C remember, to sight, only at your current ability.¡±

    Tristan got to the outhouses and had to pinch his nose as he walked over to one of the buildings. Kicking the door open, and closing it behind him, he rapidly incanted the spell and repeated the gesture from before. This time, he envisioned himself but with deep, brown skin and ruffled, black hair ¨C a far cry from his actual silver hair and pale skin. Felicity gave him a thumbs-up as her paw-claw shifted to a person¡¯s hand, and he left the outhouse with haste.

    Taking a deep breath he opened the door to the Pathfinder Company lodge. The scent of heady beer, roasted meat, and spices danced through and wafted upon the air. He could hear dozens of conversations going on in the space, and stepping to the side, he observed the unique emblem that each of the company members wore. An amber icon, wrapped in brown and green leaves and twigs; all encased in some type of clear crystal that was then flattened down through some essence-weaving to easily be worn on clothing.

    Tristan drew a handful of stares, but he ignored them and walked over to the crowded bar. Standing behind a row of people, he heard Felicity whisper, ¡°I can¡¯t risk any movement in here. I can smell the Elf heritage; there¡¯s some of them here! No full-blooded Elves like you, though.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not a full-blooded Elf,¡± Tristan whispered back. Thankfully, the din of the crowd kept him from being heard.

    ¡°Effectively, you are. Way more than any of these people, for certain.¡± She kept wriggling around and he felt her slip into his armor, tickling him slightly as she worked her way around to the front of his torso, popping her head out of the breastplate. ¡°There, now I can see and dip my head down when needed.¡±

    ¡°Just watch the claws,¡± Tristan said. ¡°I don¡¯t want my new smallclothes ripped up.¡± A seat at the bar opened up, and Tristan slid into it, flagging down the bartender. ¡°Manifest that extradimensional storage space when I reach my hand into my cloak pocket.¡±

    Felicity made an affirmative noise, and Tristan smiled as the barkeep came over. A Demihuman half-breed whose animalistic traits took after a boar. She was massive, with broad shoulders, tree trunks for legs, and a close-fitting top that left little to the imagination. Her voice was deep, but most definitely feminine. ¡°Just so¡¯s ya knows, there¡¯s fees for non-Pathers.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I actually wanted to see if I could meet with your provisioner.¡±

    ¡°Eh, sellin?¡±

    He reached into his pocket, and found to his satisfaction the bottom was not there. Reaching down further than should have been possible, he grabbed one of the earthenware bottles of clearcool elixir, pulled it out, and set it on the counter. ¡°One vial of that, and you don¡¯t have to eat or drink for a day.¡±

    The barkeep raised an inquisitive eyebrow, ¡°¡®Ow am I gonna know if¡¯in this is good?¡±

    Tristan glanced back behind the bar and spotted a familiar item. Something his father had commissioned as soon as they ascended to nobility marrying his first wife. Well, proper nobility, not the ¡®mock¡¯ nobility of honorifics his grandfather was given. ¡°That looks like an Investigator¡¯s Phial. Pour this dose in there, and then you¡¯ll see the truth of it.¡±

    She snatched the vial from the countertop, ripped off the leaf and twine, took a sniff of the substance, which to Tristan¡¯s delight brought a tiny smile to the corners of her lips. Pouring it into the vial, she walked down the bar to a stout Human with a scraggly beard, short, medium-length hair, and looked to be well into his cups. She said something to him that Tristan could not pick up due to the din in the space, but he saw the slight illumination of essence being infused into an item of artifice.

    She came back a few seconds later and nodded, pouring the contents into a cup and setting it on the countertop. ¡°This stuff can o¡¯ly be made ¡®n the Fey Realm, says me friend.¡±

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    ¡°That is why it is valuable,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure your provisioner would be interested in a bulk sale with an appropriate discount for taking the lot off my hands.¡±

    ¡°Wait here,¡± she said as she set her rag down on the bar and went through a back door leading to the kitchens. There was a clamor, some shouting, and then angry footsteps. A minute passed, and Tristan glanced around to room. Thankfully, he was not drawing extraneous attention. He made sure to grab the cup of clearcool elixir.

    Just keep a low profile, he thought.

    Felicity looked down the line of drinks. ¡°Oh, this would be perfect!¡± she whispered up to him. ¡°You could start a raucous brawl in here.¡±

    ¡°Only if things start to go sideways,¡± Tristan replied.

    The woman re-entered the bar area, and she gestured to the back room, ¡°¡®E¡¯s in the pantry.¡±

    Tristan nodded and walked through the gap in the bar, entering an active kitchen, and following the few dangling signs that designated rooms. Turning to the pantry, he saw a Broxtar. Not a half-breed, but a full-blooded one. The man towered over Tristan, easily double his height, and he was hunched over as he took tallies of various goods in the pantry¡¯s upper levels. Stairs went down, leading Tristan to believe they also had a cold cellar.

    The grey-skinned man turned around, and his voice was a gravely baritone. ¡°You got stock you¡¯re interested in bulk selling?¡±

    Tristan nodded and held up the glass, ¡°Want a sample? Same cup your man inspected up front.¡±

    The Broxter took the cup ¨C which to him, only took his index finger and thumb ¨C and took a sniff before sipping it. ¡°Oh, that is tasty. And you say it¡¯ll fill a man up for a day?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve got forty-nine more doses. They keep for a good while, and they¡¯re easy to transport. I only have these clay pots with leaf-covers, but if you transferred them to metal vials with stoppers ¨C you¡¯ve got yourself food and drink in one easy to carry package.¡±

    The man chuckled, ¡°Give me a moment, if you would please.¡± He pointed out the door and hooked his hand right, ¡°Go to the supply office. I¡¯ll be there in a moment. I just have to confer with our local drunkard mage.¡±

    Tristan turned heel and followed the instructions, finding his way to a cramped office. He elected to stay standing near the door, and after seeing the Broxtar go to the bar, he came back a few seconds later and gestured inside before pausing. ¡°Oh, well, it is a bit cramped with two. Why don¡¯t we sit on the back porch?¡± He led the way out of the building where a few chairs were set up overlooking a small herb garden. Tristan took a chair opposite him. ¡°Only able to make this from Fey Realm ingredients. How¡¯d you come across that?¡±

    Tristan put a finger up to his lips, ¡°Family secret.¡± Also, Tristan thought, that means if they know about the elixir, and where the ingredients come from¡­someone has access to and from the Fey Realm. Or, they can make something analogous to the ingredients.

    The Broxtar frowned and stood up, ¡°Cut the illusion.¡±

    What? How¡¯d he see-

    Felicity groaned, ¡°Your illusion lips aren¡¯t exactly on your real lips, dummy.¡±

    Tristan chided himself mentally, note to self: next time you do a Disguise Form spell, make sure that you imagine the fake form exactly the same proportions. ¡°Well, you got me. I¡¯m not really from the Gredo Expanse.¡±

    ¡°What are you?¡± The Broxtar asked as his hand gravitated towards a knife on his hip ¨C a knife which was the size of a sword for Tristan.

    ¡°You know how they treat non-Humans and half-breeds in Bhant¡¯s Hold,¡± Tristan said. ¡°I¡¯m just hiding my heritage is all.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re an Elf.¡±

    ¡°Half-Elf,¡± Tristan clarified. ¡°Just traveling covertly. Yes, these were freshly brewed last night in the Fey Realm. I still want to sell them in bulk.¡±

    ¡°Half-Elf essence-weaver,¡± the Broxtar said as he cleared his throat and took a seat. ¡°I get it, Bhant is not kind to us. Believe me, I know. The only reason they don¡¯t mess with me is because they know getting on the Pathfinder¡¯s bad side is a rash idea.¡± He gestured, ¡°So, let¡¯s talk price, then. Clearcool elixir, from what my bar-mage said, does indeed do what you claim. And I know it¡¯s not poisonous or laced with something untoward from the earlier test.¡±

    I could try to play off my connections here, Tristan thought. Bertram joined up with them, maybe this guy heard of him. No, focus. Get the money first, then pry for information, second. ¡°I have plenty more.¡± Tristan stood up and reached into his pocket over and over, each time pulling out another vial from Felicity¡¯s extradimensional storage space. After he had lined up all forty-nine, the Broxtar looking quite confused at the seemingly endless pockets, Tristan sat back down. ¡°And there you have them all.¡±

    The Broxtar reached down, grabbed one, and lifted off the leafy cover. ¡°Hmm. I can do one gold per each dose.¡±

    ¡°Five per dose,¡± Tristan countered. ¡°They aren¡¯t perishable as long as they are sealed, and look at the size required for storage purposes? They taste good, to boot.¡±

    ¡°Two gold.¡±

    ¡°Four,¡± Tristan countered.

    ¡°Two gold.¡±

    I really need to make a good chunk from this. ¡°Three gold and five electrum apiece.¡±

    ¡°Two gold and nine electrum.¡±

    ¡°Three gold.¡±

    The Broxtar nodded, ¡°I can make room for that.¡± He held out his hand, and Tristan reached out, shaking it, spotting the slight overlap where his illusion spell did not actually cover his hand. But even then, he was holding two of the man¡¯s fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s go up to the office, do the paperwork, and I¡¯ll get you your money.¡± He went inside the building and barked some commands for a few underlings to go fetch the supplies arrayed outside.

    ¡°I can make more,¡± Tristan said as he followed the man upstairs. ¡°A good amount.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take this as a test run,¡± The man replied as he opened the door to an office with an ornate key, gesturing inside to a seat. Tristan complied and sat down, as the man went to a vault behind the desk and spun the dial. He counted out money from various pouches and then sealed them up in a larger pouch, setting it on the desk before grabbing paper, ink, and an ink-pen. ¡°A receipt will do for now. If we decide on a more continuous arrangement, then we can consider a full contract and set prices.¡± He blew on the paper, handed both the paper and the bag to Tristan, then leaned back in the almost-too-small chair.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Tristan said as he dropped the bag of coins into the extradimensional-space pocket. 147 gold, 20 electrum, 80 silver, 200 copper, he thought as he rattled off his current finances. I hope that¡¯s enough to get me a higher Order divination. ¡°Maybe you can answer a question about someone I know who recently joined.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, as long as I¡¯m not divulging information that I should not be.¡±

    ¡°Bertram Anorax, from that family of dragonslayers. He joined up recently, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Possibly. I don¡¯t know every new sign-up. Why you want to know.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s an old friend,¡± Tristan replied as he stood up. ¡°Thanks for the business.¡±

    ¡°If we want more, where can we find you?¡±

    Good question, Tristan thought. For now¡­¡°The Raven¡¯s Rook. Under the name Mr. Smith.¡±

    ¡°Well, good to do business, Mr. Smith. Call me Antony.¡±

    Tristan left the building and made his way across the marketplace, heading up towards The Towers. ¡°Time to get some answers,¡± he muttered.

    Felicity nodded and her horns whacked him on the chin, ¡°You¡¯re doing great. But¡­if we have the chance to cause some mischief¡­¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t risk it,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Not now. Not when I¡¯m so close to finding out who killed mother and the servants.¡±

 Chapter 16: Divination doesnâ€™t come cheap!

    Tristan ducked into an alley and reestablished his Human appearance with another use of Disguise Form. But something was ¡®off¡¯ when he spun his essence crucible. The icy-blue was mingling more with the sliver, and there were fewer flecks of crimson and gold. When he explained what he was visualizing within his essence crucible, Felicity shook her head; her antlers whacking his jawline lightly each time.

    ¡°No clue why that is. Maybe it¡¯s representative of you using enough spells to increase your essence capacity? Some type of visual indicator?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have one? Can¡¯t you visualize it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but mine doesn¡¯tr change colors. It¡¯s just rainbow!¡±

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s a bunch of colors,¡± Tristan replied with a slight frown.

    ¡°Well, at least its stable. Yours doesn¡¯t sound like it. You got the blue clashing with the silver, and now the gold and crimson sparks. Seems like a lot going on in there.¡± She tapped his chest with her hind paw-claws.

    Tristan left the safety of the alley and returned to the street. The afternoon had come and gone, and evening was fast approaching as the sun began to set behind him, casting long shadows along the ground. To Tristan¡¯s confusion, his shadow was not that of the illusory version of him, but rather his new, full-Elf appearance. ¡°Umm¡­Felicity? Is that a problem?¡±

    ¡°Possibly. Just stick to the shadows to hide it.¡±

    Tristan made sure to hug the walls as best he could as he entered The Towers district. The shops were relatively busy, and richly appointed nobles were coming and going from the various businesses. Tristan made a course for the shop he had been pointed to the prior night. An enormous tower that pierced the skies above, with a near-crystalline appearance for the exterior that was opaque. It looked more like a single piece of some ancient gemstone rather than a building, but he found the door easily enough ¨C a metal one with an intricate big of word-work on the front. The Crystal Spire.

    Fitting name, Tristan thought as he entered the building. The front room was the entire first floor of the building, and a spiral staircase ascended up the back wall. He saw several couches and chairs, and a square podium. A few people were discussing various essence-weaving principles and did not seem to notice him walk in.

    ¡°Umm. Excuse me? If I¡¯m looking to get a divination done, who do I talk to?¡± he asked at a moderate volume.

    A handful of people looked at him, then returned to their conversation, but a young woman he had not noticed before because of her height walked over, holding a small pad of paper. ¡°Archon Farsight currently has no appointments. Would you like to be penciled in for this evening?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan replied.

    The young woman adjusted her spectacles, and Tristan saw the tell-tale sign of waves in the air that essence was at play. ¡°Ah, you are a special case, I see. Do not fret, Archon Farsight is quite understanding of all clientele. In his words, ¡°this city is not very enlightened, but very profitable.¡± She bowed and gestured to a couch, ¡°Please, sit. I¡¯ll be back shortly.¡±

    Tristan sat down and tried to listen in to the various conversations. Most of it was in Standard Tongue, but he picked up a little bit of Demon¡¯s Tongue and even the almost barking language of Dragon¡¯s Tongue. That caught his attention, and glancing over, he saw a half-breed whose Human side was just barely edging out the Drakonid side. I guess they are a bit more accepting among mages, he thought. That did bring some slight relief.

    The woman returned from the spiral stairs after a few moments, ¡°He is willing to see you now, if you would like. But, he insists that once you enter the divination chamber, you dismiss your spell.¡±

    Tristan stood up and nodded. Felicity whispered up to him, ¡°You really think you can trust these guys?¡±

    ¡°No, but those glasses are artifice items, I bet. I would wager that it let her pierce my illusion,¡± he whispered back. He followed the woman up the spiral stairs, and they passed several floors. The second floor was some type of book shop that was locked up with a slatted gate of metal. The third floor had another podium, but whereas the first floor seemed like a casual lecture hall, this floor was like a classroom of sorts. The fourth floor is where the woman stopped on the landing and gestured inside.

    ¡°Please, remove your spell.¡±

    Tristan nodded and stopped the slight spin of his essence crucible, seeing the illusion around his body fade away.

    The woman sucked in a tiny inhalation of shock but nodded. ¡°Well¡­just go on in.¡±

    He opened the door and inside was a very familiar sight ¨C just like the other diviner he had visited before, this room had a large chair, a couch, and a huge orb. But this one was not glass. This one was some type of giant crystal. A Human stood up from the chair. He straightened his robes, and adjusted his collar slightly, tucking his short, brown beard inside the cloth. He walked forward and extended a hand, ¡°I¡¯m Master Matteo Farsight. Archon.¡±

    ¡°Mr. Smith,¡± Tristan replied.

    The man laughed and let the hand go. ¡°No, you¡¯re not. But I appreciate you trying to lie.¡±

    ¡°Is that some spe-¡±

    ¡°No, I can just read people well.¡± The man took his seat, ¡°I do not mind you keeping your identity veiled, seeing your heritage. A full-blooded Elf-¡±

    ¡°Half-elf,¡± Tristan replied as he sat on the couch and pulled his mother¡¯s choker out of the extradimensional storage space that Felicity opened in his pocket. He also pulled out the bag of gold coins. ¡°But yes, I¡¯m effectively a full-blooded one.¡±

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    ¡°And a rare one at that. Winterbloom, eh? I have not met one of your lineage, but I¡¯ve heard of it. The oldest and most powerful, from what a past student told me.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°The hair, the eyes, the skin. You are wise to hide your appearance, but First Order illusion spells are easily seen through by a divination expert of my caliber.¡±

    ¡°I need to find information,¡± Tristan said as he stared at the man.

    ¡°Most do,¡± Matteo replied as he kicked his legs up on the crystal. ¡°Well, what do you need to know?¡±

    Tristan let out a breath before inhaling and explaining the process he went through with the other diviner, including detailing the spell and what he saw. Matteo just nodded silently throughout the entire encounter, but did pause him to ask a few questions. When Tristan had finished, the man was stroking his short beard. His soft, green eyes were seemingly boring holes into Tristan¡¯s own.

    ¡°I can provide a divination to help you identify this symbol and the dagger. But first, it will be five gold pieces to determine how powerful of a spell I will need to manifest. Then, once I know the appropriate Order required, we will discuss the price. I must inquire with the very fabric of reality and communal knowledge to determine how hidden that information is.¡±

    ¡°How does that work, exactly?¡± Tristan asked. ¡°I know a little bit about divination ¨C you have to have the object or part of a person; like hair or blood.¡±

    ¡°That is for lower Order divination spells,¡± Matteo replied. ¡°All of our consciousnesses are connected through the Thought Realm; a place where physical entities cannot go to. All knowledge that has ever been in someone¡¯s mind is there, and the older it is, the more powerful spell is required to reach into that collective pool of knowledge. Some of it is forbidden by Logos, the Realm Protector of that place.¡± He looked up at the ceiling and smiled, ¡°That is the gist of it.¡±

    Tristan was riveted, and Felicity was too, her face intently staring across the crystal at the Archon. ¡°That¡¯s incredible!¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that!¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°You said ¡®how hidden¡¯ the information is. That implies that simple thoughts or information can be gathered with a lower Order spell, but if it is complex, or well-hidden, or kept secret, or even unknown, the Order required goes up.¡±

    The Archon chuckled, ¡°You are a smart one. An essence-weaver?¡±

    ¡°Starting out,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I just recently¡­acquired? Formed? I got an essence crucible.¡±

    ¡°Formed. When you consume essence in a large enough quantity, it forms. Well, if you are ever looking for a teacher in the realms of divination¡­¡± he let the offer linger in the air.

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Heritage restriction.¡±

    ¡°Ah, shame, that. Well! Let¡¯s get started, shall we? Five gold pieces, on the tray next to you.¡±

    Tristan put the gold on the tray, and it clattered before forming a neat stack.

    The man nodded, ¡°Right. I will first use a First Order spell to determine how well veiled this information is, and what Order will be required for the information we seek. This is called Divine Difficulty.¡±

    He shifted his speech to that of Demon¡¯s Tongue. ¡°Dites-moi, royaume de la connaissance et de la pens¨¦e, s''il est difficile de vous sonder pour obtenir les informations que je cherche?¡± (Oh tell me, realm of knowledge and thought, how difficult will it be to probe you for the information I seek?). As he incanted the spell, he put his index fingers into the shape of a triangle with his thumbs tucked in, leaving the bottom of the triangle open, and held it in front of his face.

    Tristan saw a flare of green energy the same hue as the man¡¯s eyes, that sparked into existence from his temples and through the small aperture his fingers made. ¡°Interesting,¡± Archon Matteo said as he released the spell. ¡°It will be a Sixth Order spell for the symbol¡¯s identification, but that dagger is going to be much, much harder. Twelfth Order.¡±

    Twelfth?! I¡¯ve never heard of someone using a spell that powerful! That means he¡¯s got a bloodline that enables divination. Definitely mostly Human¡­but he was passed a potent bloodline, especially given how useful divination is.

    ¡°It will cost one-hundred and twenty gold pieces for the dagger, sixty for the symbol.¡±

    180 total, Tristan thought with dismay. I can¡¯t afford to get information on both in this go-around. Unless I negotiate. ¡°Could I offer trade, instead?¡±

    ¡°It depends on what you have to trade.¡±

    ¡°Well, back at my¡­home base, I have clearcool elixirs. Do you know what they do?¡± The Archon shook his head, and Tristan quickly explained, ending with, ¡°-wouldn¡¯t it be handy to only have to drink a small vial every day for your food and drink needs? More time to study? To teach?¡±

    The Archon smiled, ¡°You have an excellent point. Well, what is the going market rate for these?¡±

    ¡°Three gold,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°If you give me two hours, I¡¯ll get you a whole bunch. Enough for the divination.¡±

    The Archon shook his head, ¡°What¡¯s your current stock?¡±

    ¡°Around a hundred-fifty,¡± Tristan replied.

    ¡°How about this,¡± the man leaned forward. ¡°You mentioned you were a fledging essence-weaver, yes? How about I put together a bundle of primers for you? For any spell types you have access to. First Order primers. Normally, those run you twenty gold apiece.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good offer,¡± Felicity said. ¡°We should take it.¡±

    Tristan nodded, stood up, and cast his Disguise Form spell. ¡°I agree to your terms. Let me go get the elixirs, and I¡¯ll be back in no more than two hours.¡±

    The Archon stood up as well and went to the door, ¡°I will prepare the spell primer bundle. Tell me, what are the spell types you are not restricted from?¡±

    ¡°Illusion, flora, imbuement, artifice, enchantment, fortune, and ice elementalism.¡±

    The Archon smiled, ¡°Easy enough¡­except for fortune. I¡¯ve heard of that spell type, but never met someone who could use it. Two hours is plenty of time. I¡¯ll send my assistant out shopping. I look forward to this divination, unveiling secrets, and this clearcool elixir of yours.¡±

    Tristan left the building, thanking the female attendant as he left, and made haste for the market quarter. Keeping to the sides of the road and the relative safety of the building¡¯s shadows, he arrived at the inn only to find it packed.

    Making his way through the crowd, he was stopped by the man who had given him his room key. ¡°Mr. Smith, you have had a lot of callers from the Pathfinder Company.¡± He handed a pile of slips of paper to Tristan, and the disguised man accepted them.

    As soon as the papers were handed over, Tristan was swarmed by people with Pathfinder emblems. Well, crap. I guess the name and me being handed the papers was enough correlation¡­despite my appearance being drastically different.

    ¡°I want your whole stock!¡±

    ¡°My group is going to save a whole territory! Be charitable!¡±

    ¡°Triple, no, quadruple the price you¡¯re selling!¡±

    Tristan was able to escape upstairs, enter his room, and shut the door behind him. Felicity extricated herself from his armor and flapped a bit as she stretched. ¡°How¡¯s it feel to be p-o-p-u-l-a-r?¡±

    Tristan ignored the clamoring noises from downstairs, instead focusing on spinning his essence crucible and forcing essence into the ring. To his pleasant surprise, when he visualized the sphere rotating in his chest, the silver and icy blue seemed to be merged, with the occasional crimson and gold sparks. He took in deep, calming breaths, and jumped when someone slammed on his window.

    Wrenching his gaze up, he saw a Human dressed in dark, black leathers who gave him a little wave. ¡°Give me your stash, or I¡¯m going to break in, and I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    Tristan shook his head and went back to concentrating as best he could. Just go away, he thought.

    Felicity flew over to the window, and her face shapeshifted into that of a fierce, gold dragon from the Elemental Realm of Fire. She dropped the invisibility spell, and to the man outside the window¡¯s perspective, an enormous, gaping maw with razor-sharp teeth appeared. He screamed in fright and tumbled backward onto the street. Felicity un-shifted, giggled, and then flew to sit on the bed behind Tristan. ¡°Okay, that was funny.¡±

 Chapter 17: An assassinâ€™s ambush

    Tristan got enough essence into the ring to activate it, and with a white flash he was back in the Fey Realm. Getting some of the fairy dragon¡¯s attention, he got their assistance in moving the rest of the clearcool elixir into Felicity¡¯s storage space. One-hundred and forty doses, as a few of the fairy dragons had shared a handful of them.

    ¡°Can you gather a whole bunch of starberries and clearcool? I want to make a whole bunch,¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Yeah!¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Do you want us to get everything ready?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes, please. Mash the starberries and get everything ready. I¡¯ll be back later to do the imbuement.¡±

    He received various affirmations and confirmations, and when Felicity was wrapped around his neck once more, he reactivated the ring and in a flash of white reappeared in his room. ¡°How¡¯s my illusory form?¡± he asked Felicity.

    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s holding up. But you will be spotted by your adoring public, and it will be tricky getting around.¡±

    ¡°Can I turn invisible like you?¡±

    Felicity giggled, ¡°No one can turn invisible like fairy dragons! Ours in an innate ability like a spell. It¡¯s why Elves, half-breeds with Elf blood, and other fairy dragons can see through it. Illusion spell based invisibility does not have those restrictions.¡±

    ¡°What Order is a basic invisibility spell?¡±

    ¡°Second¡­but, you could do a camouflage spell instead. One that is also First Order.¡±

    Tristan felt a buzz of excitement at the prospect of learning a new spell. ¡°Alright, what does it do?¡±

    She tapped his chin, ¡°Makes you blend in, you dingus. Camouflage only works if you¡¯re near a solid surface about your size to blend in with. Can¡¯t use it in the middle of a city square without being spotted. And if someone really looks close, they¡¯ll see your outline.¡±

    ¡°Teach me it!¡± Tristan said, already spinning his essence crucible up in preparation for casting this new spell.

    ¡°Right. So it¡¯s called Blended Body.¡± She turned her paw-claws into hands, and held them in front of Tristan. She made a gesture where she touched her index finger and thumb on one hand, the ring finger to the same thumb, the middle finger held up aloft, and the pinky finger curled in to the base of the palm. ¡°It¡¯s a one-handed gesture. The spell is in Elvish.¡± She cleared her throat briefly before beginning the phrase. ¡°Verhoa minut hunnulla, joka maastouttaa minut.¡± (Manifest a shroud around my form that will blend me into the surroundings).

    She did not vanish as he expected. ¡°I can still see you.¡±

    ¡°I did not use essence,¡± she replied tersely. ¡°You have to use e-s-s-e-n-c-e to activate a spell. How do you think essence-weavers practice? Not by casting the spell over and over. They practice the phrase and gesture! Duh.¡±

    Tristan nodded and took a deep breath. He focused on spinning his essence crucible, and as it turned inside his chest, he felt the calming, cool essence spread through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. It felt as if every hair was standing on end, and a sort of electricity sparked through his body. He repeated the spell phrase and gesture.

    Before his eyes, his body turned transparent. He could see the ground beneath him, and could see the very faint outline of his hands. ¡°That is so cool!¡±

    Felicity giggled. ¡°Yup. Also affects everything you¡¯re carrying. Technically I¡¯m not affected, but since it applies to your outermost layer ¨C I just have to keep most of me tucked inside the armor.¡± She wiggled her head down and Tristan could feel her antlers scrape against his torso. ¡°It¡¯s a First Order spell, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Mind shapeshifting to something softer?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Nope!¡± she said in a slightly muffled voice. He felt her paw-claws dig into his abdomen, and he grimaced.

    ¡°Not very comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Just give me a few seconds! Gah, so impatient!¡± She eventually worked her way up the back of his armor and popped her head out next to his ear. ¡°There, better. And I¡¯m in your hood but can pop back inside the armor for protection.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re treating me like a turtle shell.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Now, go on. Get to the Archon!¡±

    Tristan exited the room and locked it behind himself. Heading to the stairs, he was able to make it down and into the main room of the inn. Someone had started up a brawl, as there were remnants of shattered chairs, benches, tables, and alcohol-filled vessels smashed upon the ground. He delicately exited the space full of dazed and injured combatants.

    ¡°Looks like the Pathfinders got a little rowdy,¡± Felicity said softly in his ear.

    ¡°No kidding. All of this, for what?¡±

    ¡°For your product. Must be a hot commodity from what we saw earlier. I bet they got into an argument over who was there first, who would get first dibs, etcetera.¡±

    I should find an alchemist and use them as a storefront, he thought. Let them sell the product and just give me the money on the side. Or keep wholesaling to the Pathfinders. Tristan made sure to hug the walls as he made his way back to The Towers. He saw, to his slight dismay, he still cast a shadow. ¡°Do higher Order illusion spells remove shadows?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they can,¡± Felicity replied. ¡°But no one looks down unless they want to have their coin purse stolen.¡±

    They made it back to the crystal spire quickly enough and got inside without issue. Tristan dropped the essence flow to the spell and had to lean against the wall and catch his breath. The apprentice was sitting in the lower chamber, on a couch, putting a variety of books into a case. But she was alone.

    ¡°Oh, you return, Mr. Smith. You are lucky no other patrons are here.¡±

    Tristan glanced down and saw, to his dismay, that he had somehow deactivated both illusion spells affecting him. ¡°Thank you for the warning,¡± he said softly. ¡°Is anyone else here?¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Just the Archon upstairs. Your agreed upon trade items are here. Several primers for various spell types. Do you have the items to trade?¡±

    Tristan nodded and went over to a small, waist-high table. He began pulling out the vials until he had produced all one-hundred and forty. ¡°That, times three gold apiece, comes out to four-hundred and twenty gold pieces. Should more than cover the primers and both divinations I seek.¡±

    She grabbed one of the vials and handed it to him, ¡°Take it up to the Archon.¡± She glanced at his shoddy cloak of burlap, ¡°And if you can fit the entire case into your pocket, you can take it now if you like. Or I can keep it down here until your business upstairs in concluded.¡±

    Felicity popped her arm out of Tristan¡¯s armor, and she waved the paw-claw in front of his face. He could see a shimmering, black space open next to him, filled with rainbow sparkles. The woman attendant let out a gasp. ¡°Go ahead and put it in,¡± Felicity instructed.

    Tristan grabbed the trunk of books and put it into the extradimensional storage space. Felicity pulled her hand back, and it closed. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°N-no p-problem,¡± she replied shakily as she stood aside and gestured with a shaking hand to the staircase.

    Tristan began his ascent, ¡°Why was she so scared?¡± Tristan asked Felicity.

    ¡°She saw me. Those glasses are quite a neat item of artifice,¡± Felicity replied with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m a fierce dragon.¡± She poked the side of his head, ¡°You should be afraid of me. Go ahead, show me some fear.¡±

    Tristan laughed and shook his head, ¡°Oh, I fear you.¡± He made sure to lace the words with as much sarcasm as possible.

    She flicked his hear.

    ¡°Ouch,¡± Tristan muttered as he massaged the now tingling ear.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget who has the razor-sharp claws and easy access to your tender flesh.¡±

    Tristan sighed as he reached the door, knocked on it, and not hearing anything, slowly opened it. His voice caught in his throat as he looked at a truly gory sight. The Archon¡¯s throat had been sliced open. The blood had not dried and had just begun to soak into the robes. And at the far end of the chamber, standing at an open window, was a figure dressed in dark leathers. Just like the figure who killed his mother.

    The person looked back and drew a dagger that looked similar to the one Tristan saw in his vision, but it was different in design. A longer, more practical blade with the same gold filigree. ¡°Mongrel,¡± he growled, dashing across the room. ¡°Been tracking you!¡±

    Tristan barely had time to pull his sword to deflect the stabbing strike that went right for where the armor had a tiny gap for movement around the neck. Kicking out with his armored leg, he caught the assassin in the gut and forced him back. The black-cloaked figure tried to stab into the knee joint, but missed his mark, and the blade went skidding off.

    Tristan unleashed a vicious, horizontal chop that caught the assassin in the wrist but the strike was dulled by a vambrace. The assassin spun with the momentum of the blow, performing a vicious rotating kick that caught Tristan in the temple and sent him reeling. He followed up with a stab down that would have gone into Tristan¡¯s artery.

    Except for a paw-claw that got in the way. A scale-covered, draconic claw. Felicity uncoiled herself from the armor, and with a ¡°Hyah!¡± she launched her invisible form at the assassin, flying at their face. Using her fore paw-claws, she latched onto the top of their hood and used her rear ones to tear down at their eyes. The assassin screamed out, reached up, grabbed the invisible Felicity, and threw her off.

    She had not succeeded in blinding them, but it bought Tristan enough time to recover and rush forward, plowing his shoulder into the slimmer and unarmored figure. He kept pushing until the assassin crashed into the wall, and his breath exploded from his lungs. Tristan used the moment of him being off-balance to slam the pommel of his sword into the assassin¡¯s face, and then pinned the dagger-arm under his own arm.

    He felt an inferno in his chest. The hatred that this man¡¯s allies had killed his mother; who had torn away one of the two important people in his life, drove Tristan to a frenzy he had not experienced ever before. For the first time in his life, he truly despised someone and wanted to make them suffer to the utmost degree.

    Holding the assassin still by applying pressure to the torso with his body, and pulling the arm away, Tristan was able to mash the man¡¯s face to a bloody pulp before he felt the arm go limp. Reaching his hand down that arm, he grabbed the knife, pulled it away, and the assassin fell, face-first into the ground.

    Tristan was huffing and puffing as he stepped away from the now-deceased assassin. The body turned to ash and dissolved, leaving behind the clothing. Kneeling, Tristan flipped the clothing over and saw the symbol that had been hidden before. A rose that was bleeding, locked inside a circle of bronze, with thorns that dripped the same ichor.

    Hearing a scream from behind him, he looked and saw the assistant. ¡°He was an assassin-¡± Tristan tried to explain, but the woman had run off, screaming for guards. ¡°Damnit!¡± Tristan shouted as he looked to Felicity who flapped over. ¡°Quick, extradimensional space. Now!¡±

    She complied, and Tristan tossed in the clothing and the knife. ¡°In the armor, quick.¡± She complied once more, and he looked over at the Archon¡¯s corpse. I¡¯m so sorry, he thought. I never thought that you would get caught up in my mess. At the same instant, Tristan also thought of the other diviner. Did they kill her, also?

    He dashed for the stairs and quickly cast Disguise Form, focusing on and visualizing the form of the Archon in his robes. The illusion quickly manifested, and he got to the lowest level of the tower, out the door, and partway down the road before he heard the booted feet of guards. Glancing back, he saw them enter the tower.

    Tristan ducked into an alley and re-cast Disguise Form, resuming his darker-skin appearance from the Pathfinder visit; but this time he made sure to envision the proportions being perfectly layered onto his body.

    Felicity made a whimpering noise, and her voice was subdued and filled with sorrow. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. We just blew our chance.¡±

    Tristan shook his head, ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He muttered, but on the inside he was torn. I have to see if that woman diviner is okay. He returned back to the now-crowded section of the city he had just fled from, and saw several groups of guards questioning people on the street. I can¡¯t risk getting caught, he thought. I don¡¯t know who all is involved in this.

    One thing that brought him comfort, however, was that these were not The Black Company. These were Bhant¡¯s Holdfast soldiers. ¡°Felicity¡­we still have the king¡¯s rod, and that spare fairy dragon corpse, yes?¡±

    ¡°Mhmm. But he¡¯s getting a bit rotten in there.¡±

    Tristan kept walking away from The Towers and made sure he was heading to a district across town. The Meadows, so named for the open parks and areas for recreation, surrounded by middle-class houses. ¡°I can¡¯t use this disguise,¡± he muttered.

    Felicity frowned, ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡±

    ¡°No¡­it¡¯s not.¡± Tristan redoubled his walking speed, muttering the Disguise Form spell once more as he switched his illusory appearance to that of the olive-skinned people of The Sapphire coast; complete with curly, black hair and a matching beard of medium length.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like that. Beards are icky.¡±

    ¡°Got to have a new disguise,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Ok. Let¡¯s think this through in their shoes. I¡¯m a soldier, I get called to the scene of a murder with the suspect present ¨C because that¡¯s what they¡¯ll think, given the assistant¡¯s report. She¡¯ll also tell them that a pale Elf is in the city with a fairy dragon, with the disguise that I was using.¡± Tristan winced, ¡°Which, in hindsight, should not have been a human version of my older, half-breed self.¡±

    Felicity nodded and continued the line of thought, ¡°We get to play detective. Okay. Got it. They¡¯ll follow your path to the other diviner ¨C who may or may not be dead as well ¨C and eventually track you back to that inn you were staying at. They¡¯ll have Mr. Smith on the books. Asking around, they¡¯ll talk to Pathfinders and learn that someone else named Mr. Smith sold clearcool elixir to their organization. Who asked about Bertram Anorox.¡±

    ¡°And that will lead them to either hunt down Bertram for questioning ¨C hopefully he¡¯s far away in another region ¨C and seeing that lead will take too long, they¡¯ll follow that name to the manor house. Since they¡¯re not part of The Black Company, they will investigate the corpses in the manor, talk to Mr. Perry, and find out that I came back home.¡±

    Felicity sighed, ¡°They¡¯ll learn you¡¯re back.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Tristan replied softly as he stopped at another main boulevard. ¡°If I were a betting man, my mother and I were the targets of these assassins. I still don¡¯t know who is behind the assassins.¡±

    Felicity tapped his head, ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯ll figure it out.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I need to get ahead of this. And there¡¯s an easy way to do that.¡± He looked up to Highreach. ¡°I need to report to the king.¡±

 Chapter 18: Monarchâ€™s prerogative

    ¡°Are you insane?!¡± Felicity shouted at him so loud it made his ears ring.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± Tristan replied as he began the ascent to Highreach. ¡°The events at The Towers are going to take some time to filter their way up to the higher ranked nobility. I will return the king¡¯s scepter, show him the corpse of the fairy dragon, and explain the situation. Once I show him the assassin¡¯s cloak and dagger, he can call up a diviner to clear me of the crime.¡±

    ¡°That¡­sounds kind of smart,¡± She replied. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to risk being seen. So let¡¯s do this. Duck into an alley.¡±

    Tristan did so, and Felicity extricated herself from his armor. ¡°Now what?¡±

    ¡°Take off that burlap coat.¡± She opened her extradimensional storage space while Tristan did so, and she put the cloak, the dagger, the fairy dragon corpse which began to smell like rotten meat; all inside of the burlap cloak. Wrapping it up, she handed it to him. ¡°There. Now, give me all your valuables to put in.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Just in case. Worst case scenario, they arrest you, put you in the dungeons, and I come to break you out. You don¡¯t want your family¡¯s armor and weapon to be confiscated, do you?¡±

    ¡°No¡­I suppose that¡¯s true.¡± Tristan divested himself of his armor, his weapon; everything except the burlap bundle and his family¡¯s seal of nobility. Felicity sealed it all inside the extradimensional storage space.

    ¡°Right. I¡¯ll stay high up, and keep tabs on you from above, through windows, and be super-secret and sneaky. You do your thing, and if it bites you in the ass like I think it will, then I¡¯ll bust you out of prison.¡±

    Tristan set the bundle down, reached out, and hugged Felicity. ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet! Now, come on. Get moving. You gotta get ahead of this murder news.¡± Felicity took off flying high up into the sky.

    Tristan grabbed the bundle, made sure to hang his family seal on the outside of his jerkin, and repeated his Disguise Form spell once more; taking on the appearance he had before chasing Felicity into the Fey Realm. His half-breed heritage on full display. This earned him some looks of disgust from the surrounding citizenry, but either due to the bundle he carried and the accompanying stench, or his symbol of nobility ¨C none approached him.

    He got to the edge of Highreach where an inner wall was set up higher on the hill the city was established upon. Here, he was stopped by guards. But, holding up his symbol, he simply stated; ¡°I am Tristan Anorox. The king sent me to slay a fairy dragon who stole his scepter.¡± He pulled out the scepter ¨C a royal symbol of office ¨C and the guards let him pass¡­with an escort.

    He was escorted through the noble district, receiving various looks of apprehension and revulsion; and this time he knew for sure it was not because of the smell, but because of his half-breed traits from his current disguised form.

    The Blackspire, an enormous citadel, dominated this noble district. The huge building was gothic and dark, with intimidating spikes and awe-inspiring, sweeping supports that made it appear as if the whole citadel was some enormous, winged creature from the Demon Realm where the first king came from. Ironic, he thought. That the current king sitting the throne is half-breed himself¡­just so far removed that his traits don¡¯t manifest.

    That was one foible of the people around him that Tristan could not stand. That every person there was half-breed in some capacity far, far down their lineage. They just never had traits manifest, and so they were treated as Human. The same went for most essence-weavers who were Human ¨C their other half was so far removed that it practically did not exist.

    But the irony was that Tristan was discriminated against despite being the exact same thing as many of those surrounding him. Just having the traits expressed.

    He was led up the main stairs, into the central corridor, and handed off to the king¡¯s guard; who were wearing bright, golden-leaf-encrusted armor with crimson inscriptions. They led him towards the audience chamber, and Tristan straightened his clothing ¨C feeling slightly naked without his armor ¨C before putting on a neutral expression.

    The master of ceremonies tapped his staff on the ground, ¡°The third son Fawkes Anorax, Tristan, has returned from his multiple-year quest. Your highness, he has the scepter you charged him with retrieving.¡±

    Tristan took the cue to enter the chamber. The throne room was not heavily occupied ¨C which made sense, as this was late into the evening. The king was sitting on his throne. King Arinclex VIII. A man of twenty-eight years of age. His build was slim but wiry, his black hair hanging at a medium length, only held back by the crown of black metal upon his head. The crown was studded with rubies, and those colored gems matched his eyes; red upon black. The king stood up and gestured for Tristan to approach.

    Tristan did so, coming to a specific point forty feet away ¨C as far as a minor noble should approach ¨C and knelt. ¡°My king. I, Tristan Anorox, of the Anorox minor house, have completed the quest you set out for me.¡± He set down the bundle, pulled out the very slimy fairy dragon corpse, and then re-wrapped the bundle before standing with the scepter in hand. ¡°Here is the proof. I apologize for the state of the corpse; as you well know, this quest took me two long years. But, finally, I tracked down the tricky creature, and have recovered what is rightfully yours.¡±

    The monarch gestured for Tristan to approach, and he did so. The monarch descended the dais, and his guards began to move forward but he waved them away. ¡°Tristan Anorox. What happened to your armor, dear boy?¡±

    ¡°I had to part ways with it,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°The same with my ancestral blade. Anything to complete the quest you laid out before me, my liege.¡± Tristan once more bowed at the waist.

    Arinclex smiled and clapped his hands, ¡°Stand up. I thank you for your service.¡± Tristan did so, and the monarch extended a hand. Tristan held the scepter out sideways, and the monarch took hold of it, rotating it in his grip before setting the pointed end on the ground, gripping the curved top. ¡°I know the journey was long, but a fairy dragon taking two years to hunt down¡­well, that is just not very reflective of good training, is it?¡±

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    The small array of nobles snickered and sneered, but Tristan shrugged off the looks and reactions. ¡°They can turn invisible and change into different forms, your highness. I am lucky it only took me two years to track it down and slay it.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± The monarch gestured for Tristan to kneel, and held out the scepter as he did so. ¡°Tristan Anorox, for your service to the kingdom, and the revenge you sought on the creature that humiliated us, we thank you. Your family already are counted as minor nobility, and as such I have no reward to give befitting your station. A knighthood would not be appropriate.¡±

    Tristan kept his head bowed, and nodded. ¡°My liege. You should know that my mother-¡±

    ¡°The Elf?¡±

    Tristan gulped and nodded, ¡°She was slain by assassins. As was every person at the Anorox estate outside of Bhant¡¯s Holdfast.¡± This elicited some gasps and chatter from the arrayed nobles, but Tristan pressed on despite the tears he felt building up as he relived the memories ¨C if only for a brief moment ¨C of his discovery of the manor¡¯s inhabitants. ¡°I entered the city covertly, as I feared for my life, and visited a diviner of renown to help identify the culprit. But, those same assassins came upon the two of us, slaying him and attempting to take my life.¡±

    A slight subversion of the truth, Tristan thought. But necessary. I bet the assassin was tracking me and the diviner posed a threat. Tristan unfurled the burlap cloak and revealed the cloak and dagger. ¡°These were the property of the assassins, my liege. I beseech you, have your court Archon, the famous Grimtome, examine these with divination to see the truth of my statements.¡±

    The king returned to his throne and gestured to a man wearing fancy dress robes with silver and crimson inlay. ¡°Archon, would you be so kind?¡±

    Grimtome, a middle-aged Human with salt-and-pepper hair, a short, well-trimmed moustache, and heterochromia ¨C one eye black and red, the other gold and blue ¨C walked forward. He picked up the two items while Tristan remained kneeling, and he returned to the dais. Tristan tried to hear what he was incanting, but the spell was in a language he was unfamiliar with, Heaven¡¯s Voice. Right, because he¡¯s Angelblood and Demonkin.

    ¡°Alziende ogen boven, Logos die alle kennis beschermt, onthul mij de waarheid van wat deze objecten bevatten. Het verhaal dat het vertelt.¡±

    The Archon¡¯s eyes glazed over a frost white, and he turned to the monarch and nodded, ¡°Tristan Anorox is not guilty of any crimes, my liege, save for running from the scene of a murder. But¡­given the situation, I do not see any other choice. He acted wisely with the information he had.¡±

    The Archon¡¯s eyes glazed over once more, and he looked to the Monarch with confusion and concern, ¡°My liege¡­I can only see the ten minutes or so of the user¡¯s life¡­that should not be possible. I used a spell of the Twelfth Order. Which means that whoever these assassins are¡­they are virtually unknown. To anyone.¡±

    The monarch tented his hands and gestured for Tristan to stand and approach, holding up his palm as the young man reached the foot of the dais. ¡°Tristan Anorox, I hereby-¡±

    The king was interrupted as the far doors slammed open, and members of soldiery entered, bowed, and one approached. ¡°My liege! You have an assassin in front of you-¡±

    The king waved him away, ¡°Hold on, you.¡± He leaned over to the Archon, and Tristan, thanks to his improved hearing and being closer, could hear the exchange between the king and his adviser.

    ¡°The young noble is not lying, my liege, about the death of the diviner that this soldier is here to report,¡± Grimtome whispered.

    ¡°And how, Grimtome, do you know of a murder that surely happened mere hours ago?¡± the king asked.

    The Archon frowned, ¡°The dagger showed the murder, my lord. This Tristan slew the assassin. It makes sense that Tristan here was trying to solve his mother¡¯s murder and went right to the most effective means to do so. You know how nobles are, always going to diviners to solve the smallest of issues.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. Do go on.¡±

    ¡°Clear Tristan¡¯s name,¡± Grimtome said as he eyed Tristan with a sidelong glance. ¡°He is blameless in this. Wrong place, wrong time.¡±

    The king nodded and sat up straighter, ¡°Soldiers, you are dismissed. I, King Arinclex VIII, do declare that Tristan Anorax is blameless in any crimes related to The Towers in the past day. Furthermore, we award him for his completion of my quest he set out upon two years ago.¡±

    The king beckoned Tristan forward, up the dais ¨C which was not normal. ¡°Young Anorax, I would ask that you accept my invitation to stay here in the citadel as my honored guest.¡± He turned to the Archon, and whispered to him, ¡°Make sure you talk to him right after he bathes.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my liege.¡±

    Tristan bowed deeply, ¡°I am humbled by the offer, my king. I of course accept your royal hospitality.¡±

    <hr>

    Tristan was led away from the throne room and he let out a huge sigh of relief. He got some dirty looks from the soldiers who had lingered in the hallway, but they cleared out to return to their duties soon enough. Tristan was led through to the guest quarters and provided two servants to tend to his needs.

    He was shown to a luxurious bathing room, and he made sure to open the window as he ensured the door was locked, took off his clothing, let the Disguise Form spell fade, and sank into the warm waters.

    Felicity flew in through the window and perched on the edge of the tub, lazily dragging her tail through the water. ¡°Color me surprised,¡± she said as he scales and fur shifted to a bright, almost eye-piercing yellow. It shifted back a second later. ¡°He did not imprison you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but his Archon is going to come talk to me after this bath. He was the only essence-weaver present that I know of, so for all I know, he saw through my illusion perfectly.¡±

    Felicity nodded and jumped into the bath, swimming around with little doggy-paddle type strokes. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll just stay hidden. And don¡¯t forget to re-do your disguise, with the new clothing you¡¯ll be wearing!¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± Tristan replied as he looked at the pile of clothes on the floor. ¡°Well¡­don¡¯t let me hold you back.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead, do your mischief. Just don¡¯t get caught. But, get spotted.¡±

    Felicity paused her movement in the water, sinking slightly before getting out of the tub and shaking herself dry. Her rainbow-hue eyes stared into his. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Three reasons,¡± Tristan said as he held up his finger. ¡°First, I know you¡¯ve been craving some mischief.¡± He lifted a second finger, ¡°Second, you have been very patient with me keeping you ¡®on a leash¡¯ as it were and not causing chaos; you deserve a little treat.¡± He raised a third finger, ¡°And third, if you do get spotted, then I might be sent on another fairy dragon hunt. Which means that I would not have any responsibilities of nobility thrust upon me ¨C which could certainly happen since grandfather and father are out hunting dragons, and my half-siblings are both otherwise engaged.¡±

    ¡°Oh! And, because you already established in that court room finding me is really difficult! I can read lips, by the way, and was looking in the windows.¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°It gives me carte-blanche to go anywhere to ¡®hunt¡¯ you down,¡± he said with air quotes. ¡°I won¡¯t have any responsibilities as a noble, but all the privileges my rank gives me. And, if I get questioned about how long it is taking, I can point to the fact that it took me two years to hunt down a fairy dragon the last time.¡±

    ¡°Okay! I¡¯m going to head out then. Time to steal some stuff and dump a chamber pot on the king¡¯s head!¡±

    ¡°Not that!¡± Tristan said rapidly. ¡°No, don¡¯t do anything to the king. Please.¡±

    ¡°Oh, all right. I¡¯ll just steal something from the royal treasury then.¡±

    Tristan¡¯s face froze for a moment in shock. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. I¡¯ve been in it twice before. Lots of fancy stuff. Mostly artwork which is b-o-r-i-n-g.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­okay, I guess.¡± Tristan didn¡¯t know how to feel about his underling/partner stealing objects of value ¨C but if they were just taking up space in a vault? Especially if it was something small? ¡°Just make sure its small stuff that can easily be overlooked.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± She lifted up and flew out the window.

    Tristan sank down into the tub and sighed as he let his head dip under the water.

 Chapter 19: A conversation with an Archon

    Tristan got out of the tub once the water became cool ¨C which did not really bother him, thanks to his lineage; it was tepid, despite surely being much colder. After drying off, he put on the loose pants and shirt left alongside the towel, before repeating his Disguise Form spell to re-establish his half-elf appearance. Getting out of the restroom, he nodded to the two servants.

    One of them opened the door and departed. The other, a young woman wearing perfectly maintained black and crimson slip of a dress bowed at the waist. ¡°Lord Anorox, would you like food or drink?¡±

    ¡°I am sated, thank you,¡± Tristan replied. And he was not hungry or thirsty in the slightest, as his morning dose of clearcool elixir had fully satisfied those needs. ¡°I know Archon Grimtome wished to speak to me.¡±

    ¡°My compatriot has gone to get hi-¡±

    The door opened and the Archon entered the room. ¡°Servants. Out.¡± The woman bowed and hurried out before shutting the door. Grimtome looked Tristan up and down. ¡°Tristan Anorox. We have items to discuss.¡±

    Tristan sat on one of the sumptuous couches, gesturing to the one opposite, ¡°Yes, we do.¡±

    Once both were sitting, Grimtome produced a long, wooden pipe from his pocket, poured some wood chips into the end, and used a small twig from the firewood stack next to the fireplace to light it. Taking in a puff, he looked at Tristan. ¡°First¡­condolences about your mother. The king had me verify your claims, and The Black Company stationed at your family estate were reprimanded for their lack of ability to guard the place.¡±

    ¡°Why were they there in the first place?¡± Tristan asked. ¡°My father had mercenary friends-¡±

    Grimtome waved that question away as he did the smoke slowly billowing up. ¡°Your father and grandfather are off hunting dragons pestering the farthest reaches of the kingdom. I checked with our keeper of records; your father hired The Black Company to guard the estate. They were not involved with the assassination of your mother, or the servants. Speaking of, though¡­where is your mother¡¯s corpse?¡±

    ¡°I¡­I buried her,¡± Tristan whispered.

    Grimtome nodded, ¡°I do not blame you. And I hail you for your caution. How old are you?¡±

    ¡°Eighteen years of age,¡± Tristan said as he found his voice again.

    ¡°Young indeed. But wise. I am fifty-seven, and I doubt I would have had your foresight at your age. I commend you, indeed.¡± He took another puff and offered the smokeable to Tristan, which he declined. ¡°Assassins are never good news. They were after your mother, quite obviously, and the household was either in the way or meant to send a message. After seeing your fight with the assassin¡­I believe they were after you as well. Archon Matteo Farsight was sadly a casualty that seemed to have been¡­collateral damage, as the military tacticians call it.¡±

    Tristan could tell the man was holding something back, but did not press. Instead, Tristan nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°I was unable to learn much about the assassins, sadly.¡±

    ¡°Mmm,¡± the Archon mumbled as he puffed his pipe.

    Tristan tented his hands, ¡°Someone also cleared out the family vault. I know from a neighbor I spoke to ¨C Mr. Perry ¨C that my family effectively vacated the estate in favor of the townhouse in Highreach. Only my mother and the servants remained behind.¡±

    Grimtome sat back on the couch and stared hard at Tristan, blowing a smoke ring towards him that he waved away. ¡°Drop the illusion.¡±

    ¡°Beg your par-¡±

    ¡°The smoke ring, it passed through your hand. Just slightly. Enough for me to tell something is off. Who are you, really?¡±

    Well, no point in hiding it. Tristan let the illusion fade. ¡°I am Tristan Anorox.¡±

    ¡°Good¡­full transparency; I used a spell before coming in here. I will be alerted to any lies¡­I recall seeing you at court before, though, and your illusory guise was how you used to appear. How¡­how are you a full Elf?¡±

    ¡°Do you want the long story or the short one?¡±

    ¡°The long one, please. We have time.¡±

    Tristan made sure to choose his words carefully, since Grimtome had shown his hand regarding some type of lie-detecting spell. ¡°I chased a fairy dragon across the kingdom. When I finally got her inside a cage, she transported herself to the Fey Realm. I went along with her¡­I assume since I was close by. Once I got there, I was¡­infused with the realm¡¯s latent essence.¡±

    ¡°Ah, it formed an essence crucible.¡±

    ¡°Right. So, I went looking for answers and found a big tree. There were carvings and inscriptions. Elves originated in the Fey Realm-¡±

    ¡°I had heard stories of that.¡±

    ¡°-Right. Well, I found a way to get back and brought a fairy dragon corpse with me. I promise, I¡¯m still a half-elf¡­but my Elven side is so pronounced-¡±

    ¡°You might as well be a full one. Or practically are, to be more precise. May as well embrace it. You¡¯re a full-blooded Elf¡­for which I am truly sorry, given the locale.¡± Grimtome tapped down more wood chips into his pipe. ¡°Well, lucky for you, I am not as anti-non-Human as many others here.¡± He took another puff from the pipe.

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    ¡°So¡­what now?¡± Tristan asked.

    Grimtome leaned forward and sighed as he put a palm on his forehead. ¡°Keep your disguise active whilst in the capital. If someone claims to see through it, simply get away from the situation.¡±

    He looked up and his mismatched eyes seemed to glimmer with an insight of some large, grand situation that was unfolding Tristan was fully unaware of. ¡°Be careful as well. It is in the crown¡¯s best interest to ensure that its nobles are not assassinated. Your mother, despite being a full-blooded elf and looked down upon by many in this city, was still married into a noble house. And your family name, whilst small and not long-lived, is prominent.¡± He lowered his voice as he looked into the fire, ¡°Especially with more dragons showing up.¡±

    ¡°I heard about a few.¡±

    ¡°Two, and your family is already addressing it with some soldiers. Your family and their¡­unique training have proven a boon.¡± He turned to Tristan, ¡°I know that the crown sent you on a seemingly petty quest, chasing down a fairy dragon, and for that I apologize. You know how it is with half-breeds.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Tristan replied tersely as he stared into the flames.

    ¡°I would ask that you continue your investigation into these assassins and who hired the assassins. Having nobles die under the crown¡¯s watch is never good.¡±

    ¡°I had some leads.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to guess. The culprits are your direct family. It could be your father, as divorce requires circumstances, and your grandfather would never allow that ¨C by all reports he is as honorable and noble as they come. Hence, your father may have hired them to slay his wife so he could re-marry a Human.¡±

    This Archon is very smart, Tristan thought. And I bet he knows a lot about all the nobles, high or low rank.

    ¡°The half-brother I doubt as the responsible party. He up and vanished last I heard, after some quarrel with Fawkes.¡±

    Tristan grimaced at hearing his father¡¯s name but responded with what he had learned. ¡°Bertram joined the Pathfinders.¡±

    ¡°Well, I cannot fault the young man for going out to make his mark on the world. Which leads us to your grandfather¡­he is full of honor. I doubt it was him.¡±

    ¡°He was like a father to me once my mother¡¯s side manifested.¡±

    Grimtome looked at Tristan with sharp, piercing eyes that seemingly bore a hole into his soul. ¡°The half-sister¡­she does have standing to gain if all the family save her died. Without a widow to inherit the estate and wealth from your father, and if you plus the brother were out of the way ¨C she gets it all incorporated under her new lineage. She has become quite the fixture at court since marrying into the Damadan high noble family.¡±

    Tristan sighed and nodded, ¡°I figured as much. Well, she should not be in the family¡¯s townhouse since she married. I will make that my residence for now.¡±

    Grimtome nodded, ¡°I will make sure some proper soldiers sworn to the crown protect the environs. To recap; stay disguised, find out which person hired the assassins, and be prepared to be called upon by the king. If another dragon attacks, he will doubtless want to draw on you as a resource. Especially as you¡¯re the only dragonslayer left near the capital. Don¡¯t leave the city.¡±

    Tristan stood up and nodded, ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll make sure to keep myself in or around the city. If my investigation would take me abroad, I will inform you directly.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Grimtome stood up, held out his arm, and shook Tristan¡¯s. He poured the wood chips from his pipe into the fire. ¡°Now, re-do your illusion spell. Oh¡­and the woman helping poor Archon Farsight, who saw your full Elvish form¡­I will ensure her recollections are kept silent. Can¡¯t have one of our kingdom¡¯s four dragonslayers completely shamed, eh?¡±

    Tristan nodded and spun his essence crucible, feeling the cool, refreshing feeling through his body. ¡°Naamioi muotoni niin, ett? n?yt?n joltakin, mit? en ole.¡± (Disguise my form so that I appear as something I am not). He envisioned his usual, pre-full-Elf conversion as he passed his palm over his face in the small, circular, scrubbing motion. He reflected on the four dragonslayers comment, Is he referencing Gisele leaving it while pregnant? Or did something happen to grandfather or Bertram?

    The Archon clapped his hands together, ¡°Excellent. Well, I wish you the best, Tristan. Oh, do feel free to make an appointment to talk if you desire. I am a busy man, but for someone as interesting as you¡­I can make some time. Just ask a servant for directions to my office.¡±

    He handed Tristan an emblem that he recognized; a black crown that would socket on top of his noble seal and grant him unrestricted access to most areas of the Blackspire. The king¡¯s favor. ¡°Thank you¡­but why am I interesting to you?¡±

    ¡°A full-blooded Elf and one of the relatively new Dragonslayer bloodline? I am curious to see how you develop. That is a First Order spell you used, I would guess. Correct?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. An illusion spell called Disguise Form.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­let us just say, from an experienced essence-weaver to a fledgling one; any time we can help another user develop their talents, it is reason to take special notice and observe. Goodnight, Tristan.¡± The man left the room, and Tristan walked to the door, locked it, and then went to the servant¡¯s door and locked that, too.

    Going to the bathroom window, he made sure it and the door were both open, before he crawled into bed and let himself surrender to sleep.

    <hr>

    Tristan felt soft paws on his face, prodding at his cheek. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Felicity in her fairy dragon form, curled up on a pillow, nudging at his face. Her eyes were shut, and it appeared that she was sleeping and whatever dream she was having involved her running. Sitting up, Tristan looked around the room. The sun was just starting to filter in through the windows above the bed.

    Putting his feet down, he pulled them back as he felt something pointed. Looking down, he saw a bunch of bits of jewelry. Oh, she was busy. He reached down and grabbed one of the broaches, inspecting it.

    Felicity roused from her slumber and raised her head. ¡°Morning.¡± She yawned before smacking her lips a few times and putting her head back down. ¡°I did mischief.¡±

    ¡°I saw,¡± Tristan replied as he held up the broach.

    ¡°Oh¡­that¡¯s just a little bit.¡± She waved her paw, and the extradimensional space opened up next to her. Tristan saw a small pile of gold. Easily a few hundred coins.

    ¡°I told you not to take a lot!¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a lot. I went to the farthest corner of the vault and got a little bit from a few different chests.¡± She giggled, ¡°Then¡­this is the fun part. All that art I talked about seeing last time? I peed on all of it.¡± She cackled as her paws bounced up and down, pushing into the pillows.

    ¡°Gross,¡± Tristan replied as he grabbed all the sharp gold bits off the ground and threw them into the extradimensional space.

    ¡°Did you like my caltrop surprise?¡± she asked coyly.

    ¡°Not particularly,¡± Tristan replied as he dressed in some clothes appropriate to his station. Repeating the Disguise Self spell, he re-donned his half-elf appearance with the new clothing included. ¡°Ready to go?¡±

    Felicity stretched like a cat, extending her forelegs out before flapping into the air. ¡°Yeah. Going invisible, closing the storage space¡­I thought you¡¯d be happier at my antics.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s morning. I¡¯m not a morning person.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I also carved a message into the paintings. Making sure they know a fairy dragon did it.¡±

    Tristan winced but nodded, ¡°I did ask you to do that, didn¡¯t I,¡± he muttered. ¡°Wish I had waited to give you direction until after I spoke with the Archon.¡±

    ¡°Oh, did he have anything good to say?¡±

    Tristan left the room, ensuring that his noble crest with the new black-crown attachment was prominently displayed. Keeping his voice hushed, he filled Felicity in on the conversation as he left the fortress.

 Chapter 20: The Anorox Townhouse and a letter

    Leaving the castle, Felicity wrapped herself around Tristan¡¯s neck once more as he put on a cloak and re-did his Disguise Form spell to make sure it incorporated the new accoutrement. He could feel his essence crucible spinning as the spell was cast, and it felt¡­slightly bulkier, or unwieldy. He brought this up to Felicity as he descended towards the lower levels of Highreach.

    ¡°Oh, that means your essence capacity is growing! That¡¯s a good sign. It will feel awkward for a bit.¡± She frowned, ¡°But you¡¯re limited by your essence channels. We have to work on that. Slowly making them larger.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Tristan asked as he turned down a familiar avenue and along a small lane with townhouses on either side, the front plots various designs behind their iron gates. Some were gardens, some were congregation areas, and others were small workshops for niche crafts that a few of the nobles pursued as hobbies.

    ¡°Spells. More spells. More variety within your capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Ah, it is like exercise. If you repeat the same techniques too much, the essence channel gets used to it and doesn¡¯t grow anymore.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± She patted his chin, ¡°Such a good little student of mine. Aren¡¯t you? Aren¡¯t you?!¡± she said as if he was a cute puppy she was training.

    Tristan couldn¡¯t help but giggle, and this drew a few looks from the handful of servants and minor nobles out and about. ¡°You¡¯re silly.¡±

    ¡°Duh. Fairy dragons are playful and quirky!¡±

    Tristan arrived before a solid iron fence with no way to see past it. The family¡¯s crest was on the front, and he took off the small crown clip-on piece, set his symbol into the fence door, and turned it. The metallic lock clicked open, and after walking in he shut the door behind, re-locked it, and put the crown piece back on.

    The small courtyard of the townhouse was packed gravel, save for the center pathway of raised stone. Underneath small overhangs were shooting targets and straw cloth dummies that looked to be in horrible shape; the hay all rotten inside the burlap sacks. The building itself was five stories tall, and perfectly matched the other surrounding buildings.

    Walking up to the door, he fished around in a secret cubby hole hidden behind a lantern. ¡°Tricky hiding place,¡± Felicity quipped.

    ¡°I hid my key when I left,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Everyone else keeps theirs on themselves.¡±

    ¡°Why not keep yours?¡±

    ¡°I always misplaced it in the house,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°My bad luck.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well, let¡¯s go inside! I¡¯m hungry.¡±

    There might not be any food, Tristan thought as he unlocked the door and entered. He smelled the same odor he always smelled upon entering, but thanks to his enhanced senses it was brighter and clearer. The scent of wood; freshly cut. ¡°Hello?¡± he called out. ¡°Anyone here?¡± It was late morning, so odds are servants would be present; especially since his father or grandfather could return from their dragon hunts at any time.

    Directly in front of him was a set of stairs that went up ¨C doubling back on itself to ascend to upper levels. To his left was the parlor, and the right was a dining room. He heard movement from the kitchen behind the dining room. A thin and tall man with a crop of medium-length, black hair and a permanently-plastered-on smile came out of the kitchen and advanced through the dining room. ¡°Master Tristan, you return from your journey.¡± Despite the smile, Tristan could feel the disgust oozing from the man¡¯s words.

    ¡°Marlowe,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°How are things?¡±

    ¡°Oh, excellent, young master. Will you be staying for long or going on another adventure?¡± his voice was laced with a false sincerity, and Tristan knew this man would be thrilled if Tristan was gone. He was the worst bigot that Tristan knew who hated non-Humans with a passion. The fact that he had to kowtow to Tristan¡¯s whims must have grated at him.

    ¡°I will be present in the capital, at the king¡¯s prerogative, in case more dragons pop up.¡± He replied, tapping the black crown symbol which caused Marlowe¡¯s smile to lapse slightly before he remembered himself and put it back on. ¡°My family moved property here, did they not?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Master Tristan. The whole of the family¡¯s wealth was relocated as per your father¡¯s instructions.¡±

    ¡°And where did they stash it all away?¡±

    ¡°Young master, I canno-¡±

    ¡°Where?¡± Tristan¡¯s voice was commanding as he dropped his tone ever so slightly.

    ¡°Of course. In your father¡¯s room on the fourth floor.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Is Gertrude still hired on as a chef?¡±

    ¡°She is-¡±

    Tristan pushed past the man, ¡°You are dismissed for the day. Enjoy your day off.¡± Tristan reached into his pocket, and Felicity quickly opened the extradimensional storage space. He pulled out three gold coins and tossed them on the kitchen table. ¡°Go get yourself something nice.¡±

    The servant quickly swiped the coins, bowed, and left the townhouse. Tristan walked to the kitchen and heard the slight sound of snoring. A large woman, easily six feet tall and dwarfing Tristan¡¯s build, was sleeping in a chair before a cold stove. Tristan lightly rapped his knuckles on the edge of the surface, and she roused. ¡°Morning, Gertrude. Falling asleep at the stove, again?¡±

    She stood up and grinned, ¡°Young Master Tristan!¡± she reached forward and hugged him tightly ¨C and he had to take care to not let his currently disguised, longer ears touch her arms. She pulled back and smiled warmly. ¡°You are back from your quest! Killed a dragon, eh?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan lied. ¡°I¡¯m back in the capital for a while. Would you please cook me up something with no meat?¡±

    She nodded and began feeding wood into the stove, ¡°Of course, Master Tristan. You know, I have some lovely sweet potatoes I¡¯ve been meaning to turn into a soup. Oh, dear me. It¡¯s breakfast time, isn¡¯t it? How about some egg- wait, that¡¯s not vegetable. I forgot, it¡¯s been so long! You can have eggs, yes?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can. And whatever you make will be lovely, I¡¯m sure. I am going to be upstairs.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ring the bell when it¡¯s ready! Forgive me, Master Tristan, but would you allow me to eat with you? I would love to hear about your journey.¡±

    Tristan smiled, ¡°Of course.¡± He left and began walking up the stairs.

    Felicity giggled, ¡°She smushed you in the middle of her breasts. That was funny.¡±

    ¡°Shush you. She¡¯s like family to me. It never even crossed my mind how she was hugging me.¡±

    ¡°She is a big lady.¡±

    ¡°She is Broxtar really far down her lineage. She got lucky that the only manifestation of her heritage is the height and build.¡± Tristan ascended the stairs. The second floor had the servant¡¯s quarters to one side, and his room on the other. The door to the servant¡¯s quarters was open, but his door was still shut and looked like it had not been touched in a long time, judging by the dust built up on the handle.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Continuing up, the third floor had Bertram and Gisele¡¯s rooms. Bertram¡¯s door was shut, but well-cleaned. As expected, since he could be back any day and Marlowe never cared for me. The room opposite the landing was vacant ¨C the door wide open. I wonder what father planned on using that space for?

    The fourth floor was where he wanted to be. To his left was his mother¡¯s room, and to the right his father¡¯s. First, his. Opening the door, Tristan saw the neat, organized, and ornately detailed space had become more elaborate and luxurious, for lack of a better word. Going to the back of the room and into the closet, he moved aside a few stacks of spare blankets for the cooler months and revealed a large safe embedded in the wall.

    Pulling out his symbol, detaching the crown, and socketing the symbol in, he unlocked the safe before opening it. To his relief, he saw a large amount of coin and gemstones. ¡°That explains where the family¡¯s valuables from the country estate went,¡± he muttered as he shut it.

    ¡°Why not take it?¡±

    ¡°No clue when father, Bertram, or grandfather will come back. And Gisele would have had to surrender her family seal when she married. I¡¯d be the only real suspect. Plus, you stole quite a haul. I don¡¯t need the family¡¯s reserves.¡± He stood up and went across the landing to his mother¡¯s room. Putting his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. You can do this, he thought. Just open the door. Turning the knob, he entered.

    The room was as he always remembered it. A small bench and desk with a bookshelf, a pair of couches that she used to read to him from, her bed¡­it was dusty and looked like it had not been touched. ¡°More proof that my theory is correct. Mother stayed behind at her preferred residence with the servants when the family made the townhouse here their primary residence.¡±

    ¡°Could it be because of your sister?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Gisele might still be pregnant, depending on the timing of the marriage last year. If she did, then she would not be leaving the city proper. It makes sense that father and grandfather would want to be closer to their first grandchild and great-grandchild, respectively.¡± He left the room and shut the door, heading up to the fifth and final floor.

    Felicity got off his shoulder and roosted atop his head. ¡°Seems to me like your theories are all correct so far. Only thing missing is the gear that you mentioned.¡±

    ¡°Hence why we are heading upstairs,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Grandfather¡¯s room first.¡± He got up to the fifth-floor landing and entered his grandfather¡¯s room. It was a near-duplicate of his father¡¯s downstairs, but more spartan. It was austere and simple. No-nonsense, just like the man himself. Leaving the bedroom, he entered the room opposite ¨C the workshop. To his satisfaction, he saw what he was expecting.

    Several armor displays and weapon racks; with Gisele¡¯s armor and blade present on one of the dummies. Hers were like Tristan¡¯s, but instead of a dull white with black linework, it was a deep blue with green linework. Her sword was a long cleaver-type weapon meant for enormous, chopping strikes.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t your armor and weapon special?¡±

    Tristan walked over to the weapon rack, ¡°Everything was forged to grandfather¡¯s specifications. Open the storage space.¡± Felicity did so, and Tristan removed his armor and weapon, placing them on the appropriate rack and mannequin, respectively. ¡°Our family has five suits of armor; one for each dragonslayer.¡± He pointed to the design around the torso, ¡°See how it bulges outward here? That¡¯s because dragon¡¯s claws are large enough to wrap around and crush ¨C so you need the extra space to allow it to crumple and give you time to slip out of the grip.¡±

    He kept going around the armor, pointing out the various design choices and explaining what they did. He closed off with, ¡°Every one of the five suits grandfather commissioned are also items of artifice¡­but I don¡¯t see any type of external evidence of that.¡± He looked up at Felicity, ¡°I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m looking for, really.¡±

    She flapped on top of the mannequin¡¯s head. ¡°Your ring is one. But I don¡¯t know what artifice entails.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be teaching me?¡±

    ¡°Hey! I am s-m-a-r-t, smart. Okay? I can teach you illusion, enchantment, and flora!¡±

    ¡°Good thing we got those primers then.¡± He put his hand on his armor and spun his essence crucible. He pushed the essence down his arm and into the metal carapace. To his delight, the armor glowed a bright, silver color before it¡­shifted. The armor became more draconic and the metal plates shifted into scales. The white color became more brilliant, and the slight, black linework shifted to an icy-blue just like his eyes. A helmet sprouted from the back and a mask from the front ¨C completely covering the head save for the eyes.

    ¡°Oooh. Pretty! Definitely an item of artifice.¡±

    Tristan pulled his hand away, and the armor reverted to its usual appearance. ¡°Huh. That is neat. I wonder if there¡¯s a way to find out the spell used?¡±

    ¡°There has to be an artifice spell for finding out what spell is stored!¡± Felicity flew over to Gisele¡¯s armor. ¡°Do this one next!¡±

    Tristan walked over and repeated the process. The suit of armor shifted just like his had, and he released the flow of essence. The colors had also shifted to be more vibrant. ¡°I wonder about the swords,¡± he said as he looked first at Gisele¡¯s and then his.

    ¡°I heard swords have names.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Tristan said as he walked over to Gisele¡¯s weapon and grabbed the handle, surprised that he could heft the two-handed cleaver with one hand alone.

    ¡°What¡¯s that one¡¯s name?¡±

    Tristan chuckled, ¡°My family didn¡¯t name their swords. But each sword was made according to grandfather¡¯s specifications, and their fighting style.¡± He pointed at his sword; a long, thin blade. ¡°I was never very strong compared to Gisele or Bertram; so grandfather made me something well suited to stabbing at the vital spots ¨C namely, the eyes. It¡¯s strong enough to cut and slice ¨C but it¡¯s not like Gisele¡¯s cleaver here, which can cut clean through a dragon¡¯s foot.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying you have the smallest sword out of the family?¡± Felicity replied, barely holding back a giggle behind puffed cheeks.

    ¡°Ha ha. A sex joke. How original.¡± Tristan tried spinning his crucible and pushing essence into Gisele¡¯s weapon. To his pleasant surprise once more, he saw the normally dull, steel blade shift and expand. It became deep blue, with a green fuller running along the center. The blade grew longer but not heavier. Letting the essence cease, he set the weapon back on the display and grabbed his blade.

    Repeating the process, he saw that it shifted to a shining silver rather than the simple steel appearance. It, too, grew in length and the blade became thicker. Letting the essence fade, he looked to Felicity who was barely holding it together.

    ¡°You¡¯re a grow-er! Not a show-er!¡± she burst out laughing raucously, and Tristan couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the joke.

    ¡°Okay, that one was funny given the circumstances.¡± He gestured to Felicity with the tip of the sword, ¡°Now, shut the door. Please.¡±

    Felicity flapped over ¨C still giggling ¨C and closed the door. ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°Go to that cabinet and grab another essence-lantern to add to the storage space. I need to hammer out some dents in the armor, resharpen my sword, and do some other equipment maintenance.¡±

    Felicity sighed, ¡°Boooring. I¡¯m going to go steal from some local nobles.¡± She flapped over to the window, opened it with her paw-claws, and flew out.

    Tristan shook his head and set to work maintaining his gear. But as he slid open the drawer holding the hammers, he saw a letter¡­addressed to him, as the small note attached to the seal with a small length of twine established. Taking it, he checked the back and saw his grandfather¡¯s seal. Not the family seal. The old one he had retired when he became a noble for his deeds.

    Tristan broke the seal and unfurled the letter.

    <blockquote>

    To my dear Tristan,

    If you are reading this, then you finished your journey and returned home before I did. I am proud of you for finishing your first dragon hunt. I plan on taking you to the family estate and giving you that secret I showed you that one time.

    I¡¯m sure you will have asked around, so here is some information about recent events:

    Your sister married off and is expecting only a few weeks after the ceremony (we all know what that means¡­).

    Bertram left to join the Pathfinder Company. Just like your father, he wants to make his own mark on the world. There was another reason for this, but that is his to share in time.

    I am headed up north to deal with a dragon issue. Rumors were milling about that something else might be stirring in the south, so I might finish up in time and head there next, or your father may get called to service to deal with the issue.

    The family moved the vault¡¯s contents to the townhouse. In fact, the whole family moved! Your mother is still in the countryside estate with the servants. She has such a good heart: we are already at maximum servant capacity in the capital, and she did not want those at the manor to lose the lives they had built. Really, I do wish she was my own daughter more and more these days.

    That covers the most recent events. I cannot wait to hear about your first dragon hunt. A fairy dragon? Not even I have successfully hunted one. Ha! I want to know everything about it. Add it to the manual.

    My best wishes, my dear grandson.

    Grandfather Hurvun.

    </blockquote>

    Tristan wiped a small tear away. The letter confirms most of my assumptions. He pocketed the letter and grabbed the hammer, pushing the drawer shut as he went to his armor and set to maintenance, just like grandfather had taught him. Father or Gisele. One of the two has to be behind the assassins killing mother. And, it means that grandfather left before the assassination. Father might have as well¡­I just don¡¯t know.

    He sighed as he set to work. I¡¯ll figure it out and get justice. I promise, mother.

    <hr>

 Chapter 21: A primer on artifice

    <hr>

    Tristan heard a bell ring in the corner of the workshop. Gertrude knows me so well; he thought as he set the hammer down. Glancing back at the open window, he saw that Felicity had returned and was watching him intently.

    ¡°How long have you been there?¡±

    ¡°Not long. Is it ready?¡±

    ¡°The food? Ye-¡±

    ¡°The armor, silly.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Yeah, armor repaired ¨C got the dents out. And the sword is sharpened.¡±

    Felicity flapped over to each and opened her extradimensional space. Tristan put each item in there and then took a glance around the workshop. Well, just in case. He grabbed a powerful bow that he had barely been able to string and pull and put that and some arrows into the space.

    ¡°Getting pretty full,¡± she said as the space shut. Then, her form shifted into that of a medium size dog. She landed on the ground as her wings folded into her body. ¡°I did some thinking. Not even Elves or those with their heritage can see through my shapeshifting. I just don¡¯t get the traits of the animal ¨C so no super sniffer. But this should make blending in easier.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Dogs don¡¯t talk.¡±

    ¡°Woof. Oh, wait. I mean-¡± She cleared her throat, and when she opened it again, she emitted a deep woof noise; a perfect imitation of a dog. ¡°Better?¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Come on.¡±

    ¡°Nope. Let me in the front door. The cook will be suspicious if you suddenly appear with a dog. Versus the story we¡¯ll tell ¨C I¡¯ve been following you around one your adventures.¡±

    ¡°You sure you want to be a mangy mutt?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Gah, how stupid are you? A pristine, pampered dog wouldn¡¯t be following some random guy in armor around for weeks. It would be a mangy mutt who happened to steal some of his jerky rations.¡±

    That brought to mind a time when Tristan was making camp, and he was missing jerky. ¡°That was you?¡±

    ¡°Which time?¡±

    Tristan groaned and just waved her off. ¡°Fine. Go downstairs however you¡¯re going to.¡±

    She grinned ¨C as much as a dog could ¨C and her wings re-manifested before she became covered in sparkles signifying her invisibility. She jumped out of the window, and Tristan headed to the staircase.

    The dining room wafted with delicious spice notes, and he remembered how hungry he was. Must be midday. Gertrude had set up two places, and Tristan went to the door after hearing some scratches. He opened it, heard Felicity¡¯s very convincing bark, and then played his part. ¡°Hey, girl, following me home? I guess we can feed you.¡± He looked at Gertrude, ¡°This mangy, mean mutt has been following me around for weeks.¡±

    Gertrude looked at Felicity with a sad face. ¡°Don¡¯t touch her. She¡¯s got mange.¡±

    Felicity cocked her head sideways, as if saying, ¡°Well duh you dumb cook!¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Right. Can we just get some soup in a bowl, and I can put it outside.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tend to it. You eat up, Master Tristan.¡± Gertrude went back to the kitchen, and as Tristan sat down to enjoy his soup, he saw to his satisfaction that the cook had brought out a goodly sized bowl for Felicity. Setting it down outside, she shut the door and returned to sit with him. ¡°Oh, young Master. Tell me about your journey! Hunting down a fairy dragon? It must have been exciting!¡±

    Tristan grimaced as he took a sip of the delicious, spiced sweet potato soup. ¡°Well¡­¡± in between bites of some stale bread dipped into the soup, he shared of his mishaps and close calls with the fairy dragon. By the time he had finished his food, he had finished his retelling. ¡°¡­and then I stayed at the castle.¡± He made sure to leave out everything regarding the family¡¯s countryside estate. I have to keep everyone in the dark until I question Gisele and father. And he left out the full-Elf and fairy dragon stuff. Keep the story consistent. What you told in the throne room and what you¡¯re telling here.

    ¡°Wow¡­such¡­¡± Gertrude sighed, ¡°That was not a tale of adventure, Master Tristan. It sounds like you made a right fool of yourself at places.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I could not agree more. But being in the Fey Realm? That was a unique experience.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no doubt, young Master.¡± She stood up and cleared the plates, ¡°It is good to have you back.¡±

    ¡°I will be in my room until evening.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shall I prepare your favorite for dinner?¡±

    Tristan¡¯s mouth watered at the thought of the delicious, scrumptious meal that he loved. A dough that was flattened out and filled with creamy cheese and spinach, topped with a tasty sauce of oil and herbs. ¡°I would love it!¡±

    Gertrude grinned and ruffled his hair ¨C thankfully, not looking at his head as she did so and seeing the mismatched illusory versus real hair ¨C and walked into the kitchen. ¡°Six hours, Master Tristan.¡±

    Tristan headed up to his room and threw open the window. He saw Felicity on the ground, barking at a cat on the fence. ¡°Good dog!¡±

    Felicity turned to him, shimmered as she turned invisible, shifted her form into her fairy dragon one, and flew up to his window. ¡°That cat was an asshole.¡±

    ¡°You can talk to them?¡±

    ¡°¡­No. But I know the way they look.¡± She turned around and stuck her tongue out at the cat that had moved on to another fence. Turning back to Tristan, she looked around his room. ¡°Dusty.¡±

    ¡°Marlowe doesn¡¯t like me.¡± Tristan walked over to the desk and swiped his hand across, clearing the layer of dust. The room was austere, like his grandfather¡¯s room, save for the artists easel.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Felicity flapped over to a stack of canvas frames on the ground, ¡°Interesting art.¡±

    Tristan went over and picked up one of the paintings. A portrait he had done of his mother and grandfather ¨C only the sketch work was completed, using a grease pencil to make some light marks so they wouldn¡¯t have to sit for hours and hours. The outlines were slightly smudged. He set it down and looked at Felicity who had picked up another, finished painting. ¡°That¡¯s a painting of the first snowfall I was in,¡± he said softly.

    Felicity held it up, ¡°It¡¯s all white! Just¡­different shades of it!¡±

    Tristan grabbed it and held it up to the window, letting the light illuminate the background and reveal the hidden image of a peony bloom. ¡°It¡¯s just a trick of the lighting.¡±

    ¡°Oooh. You are skilled at art!¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± Tristan replied with a chuckle as he set the painting down. ¡°But every noble child has to have some type of artistic pursuit for a ¡°well-rounded education,¡± as father put it. I took up painting. Bertram is skilled at cooking, and Gisele does excellent cross-stitching.¡±

    ¡°Ah, the basic courtly bitch art.¡±

    Tristan laughed aloud at that. After calming down, he went to the bed and patted it, ¡°Can you open up the storage space?¡±

    Felicity nodded and the space opened next to her. Tristan opened the case holding the primers for First Order spells and pulled out the one titled The Beginner¡¯s Guide to Artifice. ¡°What am I going to do while you read?¡±

    Tristan pointed to the primer on enchantment, ¡°Do a refresher for yourself. Maybe there are spells in there you don¡¯t know, as well. Since you¡¯re going to teach me illusion, flora, and that as well.¡±

    She grumbled a little but snatched the primer, shifted to her elfanoid-esque form, and squirmed up the length of the bed so her back was propped up against the pillows. ¡°Reading is much easier like this,¡± she said as she flipped the first page.

    Tristan moved up the bed next to her and flipped open his primer. Skipping past the introduction of the author, he went to the table of contents. I want to understand how it works before learning any spells. Why bury that in a tiny section after the author introduction? He flipped to the page and began reading.

    <blockquote>

    Artifice is the superior, non-consumable version of imbuement. Both instances require the infusion of essence during the process of crafting the desired item.

    However, unlike items made with imbuement, an item of artifice does not expire upon use or consumption ¨C unlike elixirs (infused potions) or scrolls (stored spells).

    Additionally, items of artifice require the user to infuse their essence into the item to activate the embedded spell. Unlike elixirs (which anyone can drink) or scrolls (which anyone can rip in half to activate).

    You do not have to create the object you wish to subject to artifice. Only the following criteria must be met:

    <ol>

    <li> The item is of excellent craftsmanship.

    <ol>

    <li> You would not, for instance, be able to apply artifice to a rusty sword, but you could apply it to castle-forged steel blade.</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    <li> You have access to the spell type you wish to use to cause a specified effect.

    <ol>

    <li> If you do not have spell type access due to heritage restrictions, another essence-weaver may cast the spell (see step 5 in the process of the next section).</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    <li> Essence capacity enough to cast two spells of the same Order in rapid succession.

    <ol>

    <li> Unless another essence-weaver is present, as in the case of 2.1 above.</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    </ol>

    The process you will use is as follows:

    <ol>

    <li> Place the item you wish to artifice on a flat surface.</li>

    <li> Place both hands on either side of the item and make the appropriate spell gesture (see separate Order spell instructions).</li>

    <li> State the spell phrase (see separate Order spell instructions), while channeling your essence into your fingertips.

    <ol>

    <li> This ¡®sets¡¯ the item to be artificed to receive the spell you will cast in step 5 below.</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    <li> Remove your hands from either side of the object.

    <ol>

    <li> You will notice a glowing light the color of your essence. If you do not see that, then this step has failed but may be re-attempted.</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    <li> Perform the spell you wish to place within the object and focus your willpower on the object of artifice.

    <ol>

    <li> The spell MUST be of the same Order as the spell used in Steps 2 and 3 above.</li>

    <li> Failure to do this will result in the destruction of the object.

    <ol>

    <li> As per 2.1 in the section on criteria, another essence-weaver may step in to perform this portion of the process. But they must follow the ¡®same Order¡¯ parameter from 5.1 above.</li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    </ol>

    </li>

    </ol>

    And there you have it. A step-by-step guide to artifice. Please note that you cannot apply multiple spells of artifice to a single object. You may remove the artifice spell by performing the ¡®Artifice Cleansing¡¯ spell found in the back of this primer.

    Oh, and I hope it goes without saying, but you cannot use artifice to make an item that can then do artifice. It just does not work. Do not try it; it is a futile effort, and more experienced essence-weavers have tried it and failed.

    As with all primers, this tome contains only the ¡®primed for artifice¡¯ spells of First through Third Order.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got the basics,¡± Tristan said as he stood up.

    Felicity just went, ¡°Mhmm,¡± and kept reading; fully absorbed in what she was looking at.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try and artifice something for the Disguise Form spell so I can do it without being spotted making spell gestures.¡±

    ¡°Mhmm.¡±

    Tristan went over to the desk and took off his family¡¯s crest, placing it on the flat surface. That¡¯s step 1. Flipping the book to the table of contents, he saw that there were two pages dedicated to each Order spell. The whole primer, he realized, was mostly about the basics of essence-weaving ¨C which he already had a grasp on. There was very little regarding the spells themselves. Must be because there is one only spell per Order to ¡®set¡¯ the artifice to receive the next spell.

    Going to the First Order section, he read the name of the spell. Investiture of Artifice. The first page detailed the spell gesture, along with an illustration depicting the top-down view. The second page detailed the phrase ¨C thankfully, written in not just Standard Tongue but also Demon¡¯s Tongue. Must have been an author here in Bhant. Step 2: spell gesture.

    He put the book above his family crest and placed his fingers in the appropriate formation; palm down, index and middle fingers spread ¨C the rest tucked into the palm ¨C and both facing the emblem. Taking in a deep breath, he read the spell as he spun his essence crucible, directing the flow to his fingertips. ¡°Pr¨¦parer le r¨¦cipient pour l''infusion de essence. Un endroit o¨´ le sort peut s''installer.¡± (Prepare the vessel for the infusion of essence. A place where the spell can sit).

    He saw the silvery and icy-blue light ¨C mixed with a few tiny crimson and gold sparks ¨C flow from his fingertips and into the sigil of his family¡¯s house. It glowed with the same light, and the glow stuck. Right. Now for the Disguise Form spell. Quickly incanting the phrase, still spinning his essence crucible, and repeating the ¡®face scrub¡¯ gesture, he focused on his half-elf appearance ¨C and then stared at the symbol on the desk.

    He felt his essence crucible spinning faster than it ever had before, and he felt a giddy exhilaration as an icy wind roared inside of him. It did not cool him, but rather felt calming and soothing. But he felt his energy being sapped as he grew tired. He saw that the normal illusory appearance he had gotten used to seeing was not covering his form; but the same-colored essence swirled from his torso and into the object before him.

    It glowed with a radiant, prismatic light before all the light faded. Lifting the item, Tristan put it around his neck and turned to Felicity. ¡°Okay, what do you see?¡±

    She looked up, ¡°Full-Elf you¡­and frost on the desk. What did you do?¡±

    Tristan glanced back, ¡°Oh, crap. Must have been from the spell; a side effect, maybe?¡±

    Felicity shrugged, ¡°So you dropped the illusion. Big whoop. I can do that, too. In a pinch.¡±

    ¡°Watch this.¡± Tristan closed his eyes, spun his essence crucible, and pushed the essence into his family¡¯s crest. When he opened his eyes and walked over to the mirror on its stand in the corner of the room, he saw to his immense satisfaction that he was back to his illusory form. ¡°I just made an item with artifice!¡±

 Chapter 22: A little bit of improvement

    <hr>

    Felicity stood up and looked Tristan up and down, letting out a whistle. ¡°Impressive. On-demand illusion. That will make veiling your identity much easier.¡±

    Tristan was buzzing with excitement and he ran back over to the desk, flipping the primer to the back. There has to be some type of artifice identification spell. Something that lets me determine what my weapon and armor can do.

    Felicity walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder, ¡°What are you up to?¡±

    ¡°Trying to figure out what my gear does,¡± he muttered. He was fully engrossed in skimming the pages until he found the section at the top indicating he had found what he was looking for.

    <blockquote>

    Discern Artifice (First)

    Required Components:

    <ul>

    <li>An object with which to draw or write.</li>

    <li>Parchment or another surface appropriate to the drawing/writing object.</li>

    <li>The suspected item of artifice.</li>

    </ul>

    Spell Phrase: ¡°Je cherche ¨¤ savoir ce que fait cet objet. Remplissez mon esprit de compr¨¦hension et laissez l''effet se r¨¦pandre en moi. Distiller la r¨¦ponse ¨¤ l''ustensile que je tiens dans ma main.¡± (I seek the knowledge of what this object does. Fill my mind with understanding, and let the effect flow through me. Distill the response to the utensil in my grip).

    Spell Gesture: Hold the writing object in your dominant hand (in the case of ambidexterity, either hand works). Place your non-dominant hand on the object, with your index and middle fingers touching one another, your thumb curled in towards your palm, tucking your ring finger under it to the center of the palm, and extend the pinky finger as far to the outside as possible.

    Instructions: The item suspected of being subjected to artifice should be on a stable surface. Prepare the drawing/writing surface, and place it on a flat surface within arm¡¯s reach. Place your drawing/writing object in your dominant hand, and let the object¡¯s tip rest on the prepared surface. Your non-dominant hand is then placed on the item suspected of being subjected to artifice, with the appropriate spell gesture as listed above. Spin your essence crucible and pour your essence down your channels; a slight stream to your drawing/writing object, and as much essence as possible to the hand performing the spell gesture. Then, speak the spell phrase.

    </blockquote>

    Tristan looked at Felicity, who was still looking over his shoulder. ¡°Are you reading this?¡±

    She nodded, ¡°After the armor, you should do that to these things!¡± She opened her extradimensional storage and began pulling out a bunch of jewelry, going over to the bed to lay the various pieces out.

    ¡°All that from the vault?¡± Tristan asked as he raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah! Lots of shiny stuff. The rest of my family is going to be jealous.¡± She started spreading the items out and placing her hands on each. ¡°I¡¯ll check if any of these can take essence so we can have you identify what they do.¡±

    Tristan walked over behind her and pulled his armor and sword out of the storage space. Going back to the desk, he put the sword on the flat surface and re-read the instructions. Opening a drawer, he got out parchment, a sealed inkwell, and a quill pen. After setting those items up, he held the quill pen in his right hand and made the appropriate spell gesture with his left ¨C placing it on the sword¡¯s cross guard.

    Okay¡­now spinning my crucible. I haven¡¯t done this level of directed flow before. He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on visualizing the sphere in the center of his chest. The visual came into focus in his imagination; a silver sphere, streaked with icy-blue shimmers and lines. He started to try and pour a tiny sliver down his right arm and felt the cool, soothing essence rush down into the arm.

    Crap. Okay, maybe if I tighten the muscle? He tried flexing his forearm; gripping the quill pen even tighter. The cool feeling receded, and very delicately he let his grip loosen until he only felt a small trickle. Alright. Now, get the rest going down my other arm. Visualizing the cool torrent in his torso, he envisioned the energy going down his left arm and into the hand with the spell gesture on the sword.

    The essence responded to his will, and he felt very weird as he felt his weight pulled to the left. Lopsided energy distribution is really weird, he thought. Stopping the essence crucible spinning, he went to grab a chair, sat down, and tried again. Spin the crucible. Focus on exuding essence.

    He flexed his right hand with the quill pen and felt the small trickle, and the larger torrent down his left arm. ¡°Je cherche ¨¤ savoir ce que fait cet objet. Remplissez mon esprit de compr¨¦hension et laissez l''effet se r¨¦pandre en moi. Distiller la r¨¦ponse ¨¤ l''ustensile que je tiens dans ma main.¡±

    Through his eyelids he could tell something bright shone, and felt small icy crystals form under his hand to crust the hilt of the weapon. Almost against his will, his right hand began moving ¨C dipping into the inkwell as necessary. Tristan felt his essence crucible spinning faster and faster, trying to keep the rate of flow going ¨C and that¡¯s when he felt pain.

    It was a stinging pain along the center of both of his arms, which then slowly spread through his whole body. He winced and felt the essence crucible starting to wobble in his chest; like it was off-center and about to spin off of its axis. I need to slow the rotation without losing essence, he thought as he felt his right hand still moving as it kept writing autonomously.

    Taking deep, shaky breaths, he focused on slowing the spin. The essence flowing into his left arm began to recede. Crap! I need more in that arm than the right! No choice ¨C spin harder and hope it doesn¡¯t do something bad!

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    He spun the crucible faster and faster, feeling nausea build up and tasting bile in the back of his throat as his body reacted to the sudden, rapid movement of the ethereal object within his torso. Tristan felt his stomach beginning to rumble, swore he could feel his insides moving around inside his torso, and began to see blurs of crimson and gold sparks within the essence crucible he visualized.

    But as he sped up the crucible and kept feeling the discomfort build ¨C it stabilized and spun in place without wobbling. Faster than it had ever gone. He could feel an enormous surge of the soothing, cool energy through his body ¨C and keeping his right arm tensed was taking most of his concentration.

    Something shook him, and he lost focus. Opening his eyes, he saw the desk getting further away. ¡°Wha?¡±

    Felicity appeared in front of him, a worried look on her face. She slapped his face lightly, ¡°Feel that?¡±

    Tristan nodded and tried to reach up to feel his face ¨C but his left arm didn¡¯t respond. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked groggily.

    ¡°Just look for yourself,¡± she said as she stepped aside.

    Tristan saw his desk ¨C completely covered in rime and ice. It was a few inches thick, and crystal-clear with tiny streaks of silver running through it; along with small sparkles of gold and crimson. His sword was not encased, and neither was the paper. Both were seemingly left untouched. ¡°How did that happen?¡± he asked.

    ¡°You were venting essence,¡± Felicity replied as she reached a hand up to his head and began pulling chunks of ice out. ¡°It happens when you spin your crucible too fast. The raw essence escapes your body as if you were sweating it out. In your case¡­well, the winter in Winterbloom seems to really like expressing itself.¡±

    Tristan looked down at his left arm and tried to flex it ¨C feeling nothing. ¡°Why can¡¯t I feel my arm?¡±

    She looked down and lifted it. He could feel her warmth almost instantly and tried to flex his fingers. Thankfully, those responded, and she smiled. ¡°Well, well, well. Looks like someone opened their essence channels more.¡±

    ¡°I felt a lancing, piercing pain along my arms. It then¡­pushed out in all directions. All through my body.¡±

    Felicity nodded, ¡°Yes. Your essence channels are larger. Which means you can push more essence through them without pain going forward. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s enough for Second Order¡­how bad was the pain, on a scale of one to ten with one being nothing and ten being agony?¡±

    Tristan pulled his left arm into his torso and began rubbing it with his right, ¡°Two?¡±

    ¡°Tsk,¡± She went back to the bed and resumed what she had been doing ¨C although now that Tristan was looking at it, he saw that she had a tiny pile of objects to one side, and the rest piled on the other. ¡°I doubt you can do Second Order. What I¡¯m guessing is your use of a new spell type has helped progress your advancement. Baby steps.¡±

    Standing up, Tristan held onto the chair for support. ¡°Is feeling like you¡¯re going to vomi-¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s normal. Remember, your crucible and channels are still a part of your body. Just¡­slightly phased out of existence. The feeling-like-you-have-to-vomit part is n-o-r-m-a-l. Just relax.¡±

    Moving around to the back of the chair, Tristan pushed it forward over the wood floor, using it to keep himself standing upright while he got feeling back in his legs. Going to the table, he reached into the still-solid ice, into the gap left for the paper, and lifted it up to read.

    It listed the name of the item on the first line. Right below it was the name of the spell, followed by the Order, and the spell type. Lastly, an explanation of the spell stored within.

    <blockquote>

    Tristan¡¯s Sword

    Dragon¡¯s Doom (First) [Dragonbane]

    The weapon becomes especially lethal to dragons. The blade is naturally drawn towards vital areas within the capabilities of the weapon¡¯s reach, given the user¡¯s skill.

    </blockquote>

    He walked over to Felicity and showed her, ¡°This is what it does.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­huh. Neat.¡± She gestured to the armor on the ground, ¡°You going to do that next?¡±

    Tristan looked back to the ice-covered desk, now starting to show moisture on the outside. ¡°Umm¡­maybe first I should deal with that before someone asks questions.¡±

    Felicity looked at it and winced, ¡°Oooh. Yeah. That¡¯s going to be tricky to explain away. On the plus side, you could make a killing selling iced drinks in the market.¡± She giggled a little and moved over to the ice, standing with her hands on her hips. ¡°What to do¡­¡±

    Tristan joined her and after looking at it for a few seconds, Felicity snapped her fingers, ¡°Got it! Help me lift it up.¡± She went to one edge, Tristan went to the other, and they lifted. The ice let go of the desk and they placed it into the storage space. Clapping her hands, the space shut and she shut her eyes. ¡°When I want to, I can change the environment inside the space.¡± Opening them, she smiled, but her eyelids fluttered slightly from tiredness. ¡°It¡¯s a lot warmer in there, now.¡±

    Tristan smiled, ¡°Thanks for the save.¡± He looked at the armor, still on the ground next to the desk. ¡°I should check what that does.¡±

    ¡°And the pile of treasure on the left,¡± Felicity replied as she gestured. ¡°I¡¯ m going to take a nap. Changing temperatures in that space is draining.¡± She shrank and shifted form, once more returning to her fairy dragon shape. Flying to the bed, she curled up on the pillows and shut her eyes.

    Tristan chuckled, shook his head, and went through the process of casting the Discern Artifice spell once more. This time, as he spun his essence crucible, he did not feel as much energy building up inside the sphere he visualized within his torso. It looked to be half full. I can only do two of these spells in a day, he thought.

    Tensing his right arm once more, he did not feel the essence crucible go off kilter, nor the pain of his essence channels widening. It was once more the pleasant, soothing breeze through his body. And within a minute he was quite tired but held another sheet of paper with writing on it.

    <blockquote>

    Tristan¡¯s Armor

    Scales of Our Foe (First) [Dragonbane]

    The armor takes on the defensive qualities of a dragon. This increases the weight of the armor while increasing the protection it offers.

    </blockquote>

    He felt quite winded and sank down in the chair. ¡°That¡¯s useful,¡± he muttered. Glancing over at the treasure pile, he sighed, slapped his thighs as he stood up, and went to his armoire. Opening it, he rifled through and grabbed two leather bags. He put the items that Felicity suspected were subjected to artifice ¨C an ear cuff, a bangle, and a pair of gold-threaded socks ¨C into one of the bags, and all of the treasure in the other.

    I have no clue how many coins she stole, he thought. But there¡¯s enough valuable non-artifice items in here that if I had to flee the capital, I could live well for a long time. He did not like the idea of having to flee the city that he knew ¨C but he was always pragmatic and tried to prepare for the worst.

    He heard the bell ring from the drawstring in the corner. Ah, dinner time. Going to his wardrobe once more, he pulled out a belt with a small belt-knife; a silver-handled blade that was meant for utility. Glancing back at the sleeping Felicity, he shrugged and headed downstairs.

 Chapter 23: Guardsmen and a sisterâ€™s visit

    <hr>

    The meal was just as scrumptious as he remembered, and Gertrude made huge portions. Tristan scarfed down plate after plate, filling himself up past being full because the flavor was just so good.

    ¡°Not surprising,¡± she said as she cleaned down the table. ¡°You¡¯ve had horrible food during your travels, I imagine.¡±

    Tristan nodded and swirled the watered-down wine in his cup. ¡°Yes. Sometimes, I traded some manual labor for a warm meal. But a lot of nuts and dried fruit.¡±

    ¡°Ah, young master, too bad your constitution is too delicate for jerky.¡±

    Tristan chuckled and sipped the wine, ¡°I agree.¡± Although, he thought, I did have to resort to it a few times. At least Felicity was able to eat it...I still cannot believe I never woke up when she was stealing my rations!

    ¡°Well, would you like anything else?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good. Thank you, Gertrude. Tell me; who else is still employed here at the townhouse?¡±

    She put her hands on her ample hips and frowned, ¡°Well, we lost Kendra when your sister married off ¨C she went to work with her new family. Then you have Marlowe,¡± she said his name with disgust, ¡°who has just clung around thanks to your father.¡± She tapped her temple, ¡°Your father hired a new maid named Theresa when Kendra left ¨C but she is off today.¡±

    Tristan finished his wine and stood up, walking over to Gertrude and giving her a side-shoulder hug. ¡°Thanks for everything.¡±

    ¡°Of course, young master.¡± She took the empty glass from him. ¡°If you have nothing else, I¡¯d like to head home early.¡±

    ¡°By all means,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Please lock up behind yourself.¡±

    ¡°Always. I¡¯ll be in first thing tomorrow. Fresh eggs for your breakfast?¡±

    Tristan smiled, ¡°Yes, please. You know how I like them-¡±

    ¡°Slathered in butter and fried to perfection.¡± She chuckled and gave him a slap on the back ¨C a gentle one, but given her massive size compared to him, he stumbled forward. ¡°Good night, master Tristan.¡±

    Tristan gave her a wave and went towards the stairs, but stopped. I should check the front yard and see what can be done to fix it up. Heading to the door, he went outside into the yard. The tall walls on the exterior blocked sight perfectly, but past the large, wooden door he heard the clanking of armor. Going to the object, he slid open the viewport, and saw two of the city guard, chatting idly with each other.

    Clearing his throat to get their attention, he spoke. ¡°I assume you are the two assigned to protect my house against assassins?¡±

    The left one; a middle-aged man with a tuft of salt-and-pepper beard, nodded. ¡°Aye, young lord. Another two are at the back entrance for servants.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Right. Well, what are your names?¡±

    The two exchanged glances, ¡°Begging your pardon, m¡¯lor-¡±

    ¡°Tristan.¡±

    ¡°Urm¡­Tristan. We don¡¯t want any trouble-¡±

    Tristan shook his head, ¡°Don¡¯t fret; I don¡¯t want to report you to your superiors or anything like that. I wanted to get your names, figure out your shift rotation, who else is on the assignment, all of that information.¡± He chuckled and put on his best smile, ¡°Plus, how am I going to commend you for your service if I don¡¯t have your names?¡±

    This earned him some grins from both of the guards, and they rapidly introduced themselves. The older, salt-and-pepper bearded man was Benjamin. His companion, a youthful version ¨C Benjamin¡¯s son ¨C was named Benji. Benjamin leaned his halberd against the wall, fished around in a pouch, and pulled out a bit of sharpened charcoal. Then, he retrieved some parchment and scribbled a few more names.

    There were two more guards on the day shift at the servant¡¯s entrance: Faith and Persim. And the night shift would have four guards as well; Theron and Theros ¨C twin brothers, Valerie, and Sealeh.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Tristan said. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to put in a good word for you lot. And, I want to make clear some expectations, so please pass them along. I do not mind you coming into the house to use the washroom. And, I expect you to take your meals at the table. I¡¯ll inform my chef to stock up the larder.¡±

    Both men looked at him with shocked faces, and the younger Benji spoke up. ¡°My lor- Tristan. That is very kind.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Well, you¡¯re out here keeping me safe. And I¡¯ve done guard duty before.¡± He vividly recalled when his father made him stand ¡®watch¡¯ as punishment for sneaking extra taffy from the kitchens. ¡°It can be boring, and when you have to piss and have to hold it for hours ¨C you get distracted.¡±

    Both men chuckled as he spoke the truth of the situation, and they nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll need a key, then,¡± Benjamin replied.

    ¡°One minute.¡± Tristan went into the townhouse, notified Gertrude to pick up more food supplies when she returned the next morning, and then acquired the spare key he hid under his bed in a small hole the bed frame had worn into the wood below. Rushing downstairs, he handed it to Benjamin. ¡°Give it to whoever is on duty.¡±

    The older man nodded, looped the key around his neck and pushed it under his armored carapace. ¡°Of course. Thank you, Tristan. You¡¯re quite kind for a lord.¡± He chuckled, ¡°Most of them would just order us around and treat us like shit.¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°You¡¯re people, too. Just like me. And, you haven¡¯t made any comment about my half-elf nature. So I know you¡¯re some of the good ones here in the capital.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth,¡± Benji said with a terse, drawn face. ¡°Lot of good its done us. The Sapphire Coast has been very accepting of the different heritages in the past year.¡±

    Tristan leaned against the door, ¡°I haven¡¯t been around for a few years. Tell me why.¡±

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    Benji glanced back at the slit in the door before watching the street once more. ¡°Well, the queen over there made a decree of ¡®universal¡¯ something-or-other.¡±

    ¡°Suffrage,¡± Benjamin said.

    ¡°Right, that. So, every heritage or half-breed can vote on laws. It¡¯s driven a lot of new¡­whatchacallit?¡±

    ¡°Relocation,¡± Benjamin said once more.

    ¡°Right, that.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Makes sense. Why stick around a place where you aren¡¯t treated as well just because of what you are.¡±

    Benji smiled softly, ¡°I have always thought about traveling out there. I heard the ocean is this huge, endless expanse of water. And some water-ladies ¨C nymphs, I think? They¡¯re gorgeous from what a few caravans have said.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that as well,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you both to your duties. Thank you, again, for protecting me and my house.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welc-¡± Benjamin was cut off as the sound of a procession reached their ears, and the two guardsmen looked down the street. What appeared to be a miniature parade was coming down the avenue. A procession that looked regal, and Tristan instantly recognized the sigil of the Damadan family.

    Damnit, he thought as he saw a very-pregnant Gisele being carried on a litter. I thought I¡¯d have more time before I saw her. ¡°Gentleman, best behavior,¡± he instructed as he slid the small aperture shut and ran back into the house. Going to the kitchen, he saw that Gertrude was still packing her things. ¡°Hurry up! Gisele is coming!¡±

    Gertrude¡¯s face went pale, ¡°I am not cooking for that snooty bitch!¡± She dropped one of her bags, ¡°I¡¯ll get that tomorrow.¡± She rushed to the servant¡¯s entrance, unlocked it, and slammed it shut behind her, re-locking it.

    Tristan ran upstairs and burst into his room. ¡°Felicity! Wake up!¡±

    The fairy dragon stirred and raised her head off the pillow, ¡°What is it?¡± she said sleepily.

    ¡°My sister is here.¡±

    That woke her up instantly, and Felicity shimmered for a moment which informed Tristan of her invisibility being activated. ¡°Want me to bite her? Claw her? Oooh! Steal from her?¡±

    Tristan shook his head and ran to his wardrobe, pulling out his less casual ¡®townhouse¡¯ outfit and swapped clothes. ¡°I need you to be there and help me get a read on her. I¡¯m biased, but you¡¯ve never met her.¡±

    Felicity saluted with her paw-claw, pulling it up to the edge of her temple and tapping it there. ¡°Alright! Felicity, the detective and empath, on the case.¡± She flew over to the window, opened it, and looked down. ¡°Oh, they¡¯re coming into the gate!¡±

    Crap! Tristan knew the rules of proper decorum. He needed to be at the door to welcome a noble visitor, especially one of higher standing. He made sure to have his family crest on, with the crown-attachment to show that he was currently favored by the monarch or his court, and spun his essence crucible to re-establish his Disguise Form with the new clothing. Checking in the mirror, he confirmed the illusion spell worked appropriately, and then rushed down the stairs.

    Taking in light breaths, he arrived at the door when it was knocked. Ensuring his outfit was perfectly smoothed out, he opened the door and put on his biggest smile. ¡°Welcome to the Anorox family townhouse.¡±

    The woman he saw was definitely his half-sister. But she looked more regal than ever before. Long, brown hair was drawn back into a series of braids held in place with a golden bow ¨C a bow made of literal golden threads, from what Tristan could tell. Her honey and amber eyes settled on him, and her pale skin contrasted with the dark, blue outfit she wore. ¡°Tristan,¡± she said with a curt, proper demeanor. But he felt the visceral disgust underlying it.

    Tristan bowed as decorum dictated, ¡°Lady Damadan, to what do I owe the pleasure?¡± he asked, keeping his posture in a position of deference despite it gnawing at him that he was bowing to his half-sister.

    ¡°I heard you returned. Move aside.¡±

    Tristan did so, standing up and making sure he drew attention to the emblem hanging from his neck by gesturing with his hand. ¡°Of course.¡±

    He could tell by the slight squint to her eyes that she recognized the insertable black crown that attached to the top of any noble''s sigil. ¡°You met with the king.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan replied as he gestured to the lounge. ¡°May I get you anything?¡±

    She walked past him and two guards wearing house Damadan¡¯s colors ¨C deep blue with gold intertwined as if it was a flowing river ¨C walked past Tristan and began investigating the first floor to clear it of any possible threats. Gisele took as seat and gestured to the one across from her, which Tristan sat in.

    She cleared her throat and glared at him, ¡°Did you find your fairy dragon?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes. Hence the king¡¯s favor.¡±

    She frowned, ¡°I also heard you were involved in a murder, perhaps.¡±

    Tristan put on his best innocent smile possible, years of practicing to manipulate his face coming into play. ¡°I was cleared of all wrong-doing by Archon Grimtome himself. Assassins were after my mother and I.¡± He frowned and gestured to her, ¡°For all we know, they are after everyone in our family.¡±

    Gisele also frowned and looked at once of her guards, ¡°I have not noticed anything off. Have you?¡±

    The guard shook his helmeted head, ¡°No, m¡¯lady.¡±

    She looked back to Tristan, ¡°Perhaps it is only you and your mother who were targeted.¡±

    Tristan tried to read her face for any sign of guilt. Any sign of something ¡®off¡¯. He saw Felicity, in the corner ¨C having somehow snuck into the room without him noticing ¨C studying Gisele intently. Maybe she¡¯ll pick up on something if I keep prodding. ¡°I went to the manor house outside of town. Everyone was dead.¡±

    He gauged her reaction. And, he saw a flicker of sorrow cross her face. She then brought her lips into a terse grimace, ¡°Everyone? Even Marianne?¡±

    Tristan nodded as she referenced the nurse who helped raise them as younger children and taught them their numbers and letters. The woman had been kept on the staff as a nurse, after, as she had grown attached to the family. Tristan felt a tear start to well up in the corner of his eye, and brushed it away with a finger. ¡°Yes,¡± he whispered, pushing the sorrow back. ¡°Everyone. My mother, Marianne, every single servant.¡±

    Gisele¡¯s slight inhalation was all that Tristan needed to hear. She was always the most composed of the three siblings, rarely showing emotion and being unwavering in her goals. Well, she showed emotion in court when trying to make in-roads with other nobles for her own aspirations. But outside of that? She was like stone.

    But this was different. He heard the sorrow crack through her voice, ¡°I can¡¯t believe someone would do that.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°It was a gory sight to discover.¡± He looked up at her, ¡°Father and grandfather are well last you saw them?¡±

    She nodded, and her terse grimace remained as she calmed herself to a placid state using sheer mental fortitude. ¡°They are, last I saw them. Bertram is well, too. I recently received a letter from him. He is going overseas to investigate something on behalf of the Pathfinders.¡± She stood up, ¡°If you will excuse me, I think this visit is over.¡±

    Tristan stood up at the same time as her and smiled, ¡°Pleasure to see you, Gisele. Please visit anytime.¡±

    She frowned, ¡°I don¡¯t think I will until father or grandfather returns.¡± She went past her guard, opened the front door, and left the building. Her two guards followed close after, and Tristan went to the door, shutting it behind them. He let out a gasp of air as he did so. ¡°That bitch,¡± he muttered.

    Felicity flapped over to him and landed on his head, ¡°I don¡¯t think she hired the people who did that. If she wanted your mom dead, why would they kill the whole house? Even if the assassin were spotted, they would just kill the person who saw them.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°I agree. I don¡¯t think it was Gisele.¡±

    ¡°Which means it could be your father,¡± Felicity replied.

    It could be, Tristan thought. Wanting her out of the way so he could marry a Human woman. It makes the most sense. He went through his memories as best he could, trying to find any instance where his father showed a level of tenderness towards the servants ¨C and he could not find any. He might have just had everyone killed off so that he could have a fresh start entirely. New wife, new staff¡­he¡¯s uncaring enough to do something like that.

    Tristan kicked the door and cursed under his breath. ¡°If it is him¡­I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do about it,¡± Tristan said in exasperation. ¡°I can¡¯t kill my father.¡±

    ¡°Turn him in to the Archon guy. He can do that truth-telling spell you told me he does, and get the answer from your father.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Right. That¡¯s true.¡± He looked to the stairs, ¡°Come on. Upstairs. I¡¯ll see if I can figure out what those other artificed items are, and then we¡¯re going to the Fey Realm.¡±

 Chapter 24: Trying to open the vault again

    <hr>

    Getting up to his room and shutting the door, Tristan made sure to lock it. Felicity looked around in a panic, ¡°Where¡¯s my treasure!¡±

    Tristan pointed to the two bags, and she dove for them, pulling the drawstrings on the top open before letting out a sigh of relief. ¡°Good. We still have all of it!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know fairy dragons were greedy,¡± Tristan said as he walked to her, grabbed the bag with the suspected-artificed items, and made his way to the desk.

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± she replied haughtily. Re-tightening the bag, she threw it into the storage dimension, and then flew over to land on the desk next to the primer Tristan was referencing. ¡°I know how the Mortal Realm values all the different coins and jewels. Sure, they are pretty, but ultimately not very useful to me.¡± She pointed at him, ¡°But for you? We need to be rich. You know, in case we have to flee the country.¡±

    Tristan sighed, ¡°Hopefully it doesn¡¯t come to that.¡± He went to pull the first of the items out of the bag, but paused. I was almost tapped out of essence entirely before dinner, he thought. I don¡¯t want to risk exhausting myself here. I need to spend my nights in the Fey Realm where I know I won¡¯t get assassinated. Diverting his focus to his ring, he went to the bed and sat down. ¡°We¡¯re going back to do this. Please, put my armor and weapon back in storage.¡±

    Felicity opened the storage space once more, did as he asked, and then shut the portal. Flapping over to him, she put her paw-claw on his hand with the ring, and he saw a light glow. A rainbow light that shimmered slightly. ¡°I know this thing takes an hour, but what if we put a bunch of essence into it? Maybe speed it up?¡±

    Tristan shrugged and kept spinning his crucible, ¡°Not sure.¡± Focusing his attention on the ring, he tried to do what he had done earlier with making the crucible move faster and fast. He could feel the cooling energy spread through his torso and tried to direct it to his hand. The enormous rush of energy made him feel giddy and he couldn¡¯t help but grin that he was using real magic. This is just still¡­so awesome, he thought.

    The ring began to glow brighter and feel warmer on his finger. But, Tristan felt his energy waning, and had to slow his crucible¡¯s spin down once more. The concept seemed to work, however, as after only thirty minutes, the world turned white and he found himself on the dirt circle in front of the Queen¡¯s Wood.

    Felicity pulled her paw-claw away and flitted up into the air, looking around at the other fairy dragons who were going out and about. Clapping her fore-paws together, she cleared her throat. ¡°Lord Tristan and his super amazing and spectacular fairy dragon are here!¡±

    ¡°Up yours!¡±

    ¡°Oh? Super special?¡±

    Other jests, insults, or derogatory comments were tossed Felicity¡¯s direction, and with expert adroitness she responded to each with her own bit of verbal repartee.

    One of the fairy dragons flew down in front of Tristan, bowed his head slightly, and looked up to meet his gaze. ¡°Are you staying the night? Shall I prepare your quarters?¡±

    Tristan nodded and stood up, ¡°Yes, please and thank you.¡± The fairy dragon nodded, and took off flying. Seeing his movement, and having overheard the conversation, a few of the creatures that were bantering with Felicity flew after him.

    Felicity landed on his head and made a pleased noise between a squee and a grunt. ¡°Perfect. They respect me now.¡±

    Tristan began walking into the tree, ¡°It didn¡¯t sound like respect.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the jokes weren¡¯t that bad this time. In the past, they were a lot worse. You remember the one they told when you had me by the neck on your first visit?¡±

    Tristan chuckled and nodded, recalling the joke vividly. ¡°It was quite funny.¡±

    Going into the tree and down to his quarters, he was pleased to see that the tub was being filled with hot water, new clothes were laid out for him, and the bed had been seen to with freshly laundered sheets. Going to the desk nearby ¨C a piece of the tree¡¯s root that seemed to have been shaped to form a flat surface ¨C he poured out the three items and set the bag aside.

    ¡°Felicity, you said there is a ton of ambient essence here, right?¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡±

    ¡°Can I¡­replenish mine? I know essence elixirs exist, and even non-imbued potions can sometimes have essence-recovery, herbal properties¡­but could I¡­suck in the ambient essence to replenish my own?¡±

    ¡°Yup! Just picture that sphere in your chest spinning the other direction. Have you ever stirred your soup and seen a vortex appear in the center?¡± Tristan nodded, and she continued. ¡°Visualize pulling in the essence instead of pushing it out. Imagine the spin in the reverse direction, making that vortex like the soup.¡±

    ¡°Can I pull it in and push it out at the same time?¡±

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    Felicity shook her head, ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s a Matriarch question.¡±

    Tristan nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to get into a rhythm. Closing his eyes, he visualized the silver crucible in his chest with the icy-blue cracks, and gold and crimson flecks. Normally I spin it left, so if I spin it right¡­he tried to spin his essence crucible the opposite direction and visualized a swirl. To his surprise, he could see streaks of purple, green, dark blue, and pink being sucked into the spiral¡­and his chest warmed up.

    He could feel the cooling effect of his essence trying to counteract the effect, and he was sure that he would have been burning hot if not for the naturally cool crucible. Is it because of how much I¡¯m trying to take in all at once? Maybe if I slow down the spin¡­He tried to do just that, and the multi-colored energy that was swirling down into his visualized crucible slowed its speed; and the heat ceased.

    After a few minutes of this slower refilling, he felt energized and full of stamina. As if he could run for miles. Opening his eyes, he sighed with relief. ¡°Seems like that worked,¡± he said aloud.

    Felicity looked at him with a slightly-cocked-to-the-side head. ¡°Umm¡­that did something. Go look in the mirror.¡±

    What now? Tristan got up and walked over to the mirror, gasping as he laid eyes upon himself. His illusion was gone, and instead of having just silver hair, the tips of his locks gradually shifted to the icy-blue and then a deeper-blue color. His Elven ears had lengthened slightly as well ¨C extending well past the back of his head at this point. ¡°What caused that?¡±

    Felicity rapped the desk with her knuckles to draw Tristan¡¯s attention back to her perch. ¡°Probably taking more Fey Realm essence. It¡¯s making you more Elf-y.¡±

    Tristan walked back to the desk. ¡°Well¡­at least the disguise works still.¡± Just have to make sure my new ears don¡¯t hit anything. ¡°Felicity, open the storage dimension.¡± She did so, and he reached in, grabbed the primer on artifice, and read through the instructions for Discern Artifice. ¡°Can you get me some writing supplies?¡±

    She flew out of the room as he reviewed the instructions, and her flapping heralded her return as she was joined by another fairy dragon carrying a pile of enormous, triangular leaves that had been dried out to be similar to parchment. He also had a small, hollow, wooden pen that had an ink reservoir on the top. ¡°Anything else?¡± the fairy dragon accompanying Felicity asked.

    ¡°No, thank you.¡± As the dragon flitted off, Felicity returned to her perch, and Tristan set each item out in a row with a sheet of the leaf parchment next to it. ¡°Alright, here we go.¡± He glanced sideways at Felicity, ¡°I can avoid the whole ¡®ice the furniture¡¯ side effect by doing what, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t vent your essence. Make sure none of it is escaping anywhere you don¡¯t want it to.¡± She laid her head down and watched him intently, her tail flicking back and forth with anticipation. ¡°Come on! I want to see what my loot does!¡±

    Placing his hands in the appropriate gesture, and swirling his essence crucible, he tightened his essence channel down his arm so only the trickle went to the pen, and the rest went to his left hand, placed on the ear cuff. As the essence churned from him, he felt his hand moving on its own. And when his hand stopped moving, he released the flow of essence. Taking a look at the parchment, he read the effect out loud for Felicity¡¯s sake ¨C since she was looking at the text upside-down.

    <blockquote>

    Whisper Seeker

    Aural Sensitivity Enhancement (Second) [Alteration]

    Enhances the aural senses to allow for better hearing of whispered words and phrases.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°That is helpful,¡± Felicity stated as Tristan finished reading the effects.

    ¡°What is alteration?¡± Tristan asked as he set the ear cuff on the parchment and pushed both aside.

    ¡°A spell type that makes adjustments to a body,¡± she replied.

    He nodded and moved on to the second object; the bangle. Repeating the process, he then read aloud the notes.

    <blockquote>

    Resonance Bangle

    Discordant Melody (First) [Sound Elementalism]

    Causes a loud, clattering, banging noise that grates on the ears; disrupting the ability to hear.

    </blockquote>

    Last, he moved on to the gold thread socks. His essence was at about half capacity. So after this I should be at about a quarter.

    <blockquote>

    Insulating Socks

    Discharge Shock (Third) [Lightning Elementalism]

    Any lightning elementalism effect that is active or is cast at the user while the spell is active, will be negated if it is the Order or lower. Once per twenty-four hours.

    </blockquote>

    Tristan put the last piece of parchment down and looked over at Felicity who was staring at the bangle with unabashed desire. ¡°Alright, you get the bangle. It will help with you going around and being a distraction.¡±

    She squealed with delight as she snatched the bangle and put it over one of her antlers; the horn seemingly warping around to form a small ring that held it in place. ¡°You going to use the socks?¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Yeah. I get the socks; you also get the ear cuff.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked with genuine surprise.

    ¡°You¡¯re my little spy. A spy needs to be able to hear whispered conversations.¡±

    She snagged the cuff and slipped it around the base of her ear. It didn¡¯t quite fit right, but her shapeshifting activated, and the flesh slightly distorted to enable the cuff to sit perfectly. ¡°Thanks! I can¡¯t wait to use this bangle! I think I¡¯m going to do it now.¡± She flew off, leaving the room.

    Tristan just shook his head and closed his eyes, focusing on spinning his essence crucible to the right and sucked in more essence until he was full up. Going to the mirror, he checked and saw to his satisfaction that he was not becoming more Elven. Maybe it was the last bit of exposure needed to be a full Elf, he thought. As if my Human heritage wasn¡¯t pushed all the way out? Shrugging, he made his way to the vault door that had stymied him before.

    Kneeling, he slid his knees into the grooves before the door and placed his palms on the same places as before. Okay. Deep breaths. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, visualizing his essence crucible. I want to get the most essence possible out of me. And The Matriarch said it all had to be in one go. So¡­spin it as fast as I can.

    He did just that, focusing on spinning it to the left as fast as possible. It began to pick up speed, and he felt the essence surging in his torso go from the soothing coolness to a frigid, icy, bone-chilling cold that normally would have chilled him to the bone. But the cold no longer bothered him thanks to his bloodline, and he surged the essence down his arms and into the vault door.

    Opening his eyes, he saw that the essence began to fill the spiral, extending out until it met the edges of the wood. ¡°Yes!¡± he shouted out as he felt his limbs shaking, exhaustion taking over as he sagged in place.

    The enormous wooden door opened from the center; the spiral slowly opened like some weird flower, and he saw the inside of the vault.

 Chapter 25: What secrets lie within?

    <hr>

    The room that he was greeted with was disappointing, to say the least. A circular chamber that was shaped like a bell ¨C wide at the bottom edges and slowly, gracefully curving up to a singular point in the ceiling. Suspended from that center point was a slightly glowing seed that shone light below.

    A small pedestal made of the same wood under his feet stood upright, and on it was a scroll ¨C made from the same plant substance he had used earlier for his artifice spell. Walking forward, he noted another door beyond the pillar. An identical duplicate of the one he had just opened; save for the more intricate design. If I was a betting man, Tristan thought, that will take more essence than the first door.

    He grabbed the scroll and unfurled it. The Elvish words were gibberish at first. But, just like the vault door, the letters slowly shifted until he understood exactly what it said.

    <blockquote>

    Chosen of the winter skies,

    Architect of the Realm¡¯s rise.

    The one that blooms in cold,

    And will never grow old.

    Do not fret, treasure lies beyond,

    These gates that test the spawn

    Of those who came before,

    Who planted treasure behind the door.

    When you find the power within,

    And can see the legacy therein,

    You will know true power

    As your might blooms like a flower.

    Your first reward for obtaining strength

    And showing your essence¡¯s breadth

    Is to reveal a secret long gone,

    And kept hidden by those beyond.

    The Winterbloom alone can rule,

    The rest who try to command are fools.

    When you speak, they obey,

    If they do not, they feel dismay.

    </blockquote>

    Tristan reached the end of the poetic verses and checked the back of the paper, not finding anything of note. A few items in particular stood out to him. The first and most important was the line ¡®and will never grow old.¡¯ Does that mean¡­I¡¯m immortal? To aging? Or that I just won¡¯t look any older no matter how old I get? He looked around the chamber thoroughly as he ruminated on that single line of text; letting his hands explore every single nook and cranny. But he found nothing.

    Going over to the next door, he exhaled and focused on reverse-spinning his essence crucible, sucking in as much ambient essence as possible and filling himself back to full. Kneeling in similar grooves as the first door, and placing both palms on the wood, he channeled his essence as quickly as he could¡­and barely filled up a third of the door¡¯s capacity. I was right. Looks like I need to come back when I¡¯m stronger, he thought.

    Leaving the vault, he returned to his room and sat on the bed. Treasure lies beyond¡­test the spawn¡­that¡¯s obviously just referencing that there is more than this slip of paper in deeper chambers. And the ¡®spawn¡¯ is referencing those who are children of the Winterbloom bloodline. Makes enough sense.

    Laying back on the bed and nestling his head onto the pillows, he pondered the last section of the text. Does that mean I can command other Elves or Elf-blooded people? And if they don¡¯t, what, they feel discomfort? He rolled over on his side and set the parchment onto the bedside table as he shut his eyes, pondering what that could mean.

    <hr>

    ¡°Morning!¡± a voice almost shouted next to Tristan¡¯s ear.

    He sat up instantly and glanced over at Felicity who was sitting right next to where his head was on a nearby pillow. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Tristan asked groggily.

    ¡°Not you!¡± Felicity let out a slight giggle. ¡°Come on, go get breakfast. We have stuff to do today.¡±

    Tristan held up the parchment he took from the vault, ¡°Any idea what this means?¡±

    She scanned it over quickly and then nodded slowly, ¡°I heard that Winterblood were naturally authoritative and could command other Elvenkind.¡± She frowned, ¡°And that brings up a disturbing idea¡­what if¡­what if the assassins that were sent after your mother and you were sent by other Elves? Ones that knew about your authority over them,¡± she slapped the parchment with a paw-claw for emphasis, ¡°however that works. And, they decided to do something about it. I know it¡¯s not talking about fairy dragons, because I n-e-v-e-r felt dismay when I wasn¡¯t listening to your orders.¡±

    The thought was disconcerting and Tristan frowned as he pondered the idea. What if father is not involved? I know Gisele is not based on her reaction to hearing the servants were slaughtered. I highly doubt it was Bertram, and it definitely was not grandfather. Could it be some¡­cabal of Elves that don¡¯t want to be threatened by an authority figure? Mother or me being a threat just by being alive? Now that Felicity had put the concept in his head¡­it rattled around Tristan¡¯s brain.

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    Felicity rolled up the parchment, flew over to the desk, and shoved everything into the Extradimensional Storage. ¡°Come on! Get up and let¡¯s get a move on. You have to maintain appearances in the Mortal Realm.¡±

    Tristan nodded and stood up, walking after Felicity, through the tree, and up the enormous central pillar before he arrived out front. The fairy dragons were out and about in full force, chatting, joking, and playing games. A handful turned and dipped their heads towards Tristan in acknowledgment but kept their raucous behavior going.

    ¡°Where is The Matriarch?¡± Tristan asked aloud to any who would listen.

    One of the fairy dragons flew down to him and spoke in a gruff, deep tone. ¡°She is patrolling the edges of the Fey Realm where incursions to or from other Realms may occur.¡±

    Tristan frowned, ¡°Is that normal?¡±

    The fairy dragon nodded, ¡°The patrols are normal. Incursions on the other hand? Not so much.¡±

    Tristan walked to the center of the dirt circle and felt Felicity land on his head before shaking herself and shimmering slightly as she turned invisible. Alright, back to the townhouse we go. Tristan willed his essence into the ring and vanished.

    His bedroom appeared once more and he felt the wooden floor under his feet. Going to the dresser, he swapped out to some daytime, casual, around-the-town clothing. A cream-colored cloth jerkin, a decent leather belt, cloth breeches, and supple, black leather boots. He made sure to put on the Insulating Socks ¨C and found to his delight they were  quite comfortable and not too warm in the slightest. He spun his essence crucible and channeled the energy through his torso and into the amulet around his neck ¨C taking on his half-breed disguise.

    Leaving the room and descending the stairs, he almost bumped into a young woman he had not seen before. ¡°Ah, you must be Theresa,¡± he said politely as he flattened himself against the wall.

    The woman was some type of half-breed from distant ancestors ¨C the only indicator of her slight Demon heritage being some slightly sharper canines. She curtsied in her perfectly maintained outfit. ¡°Forgive me, my lord.¡±

    ¡°Just Tristan,¡± he replied. ¡°Just call me Tristan. I¡¯m the-¡±

    ¡°The half-breed,¡± she replied curtly. ¡°Forgive me, but I like working and not talking.¡± She brushed past him and let the bit of water in her bucket slop onto his feet.

    ¡°Please clean my room thoroughly. It looks like Marlowe skipped it for a few months.¡±

    She nodded and made an affirmative-sounding noise before vanishing from view. I can¡¯t get a good read on her, he thought. If she¡¯s okay with half-breeds or not. Tristan continued his path downstairs and heard talking and laughing. Entering the dining room, he saw two people he did not recognize dressed in guard outfits, eating breakfast. They noticed him and dipped their heads in respect.

    ¡°Thank you, Lord Anorox, for opening your house to us during our shifts,¡± the woman on the left said. She had a crop of short-cut auburn hair and slightly red eyes ¨C another sign of far-distant Demon heritage.

    The other guard, a slim young man who was tall as a beanstalk and had sunken, hollow cheeks nodded in agreement. ¡°Thank you, M¡¯lord.¡±

    Tristan sat down and smiled as Gertrude came out of the kitchen and set a platter in front of him with his favorite breakfast. ¡°Just Tristan, please. And you would be Faith and Persim?¡± he asked.

    The woman nodded, ¡°I¡¯m Faith, that¡¯s Persim. We are on shift at the back door, and your lovely cook here invited us in.¡± The woman winked at Gertrude who blushed at the attention before returning to the kitchen. This prompted a chuckle from Faith, who looked at Tristan. ¡°Well, Tristan, I thank you nonetheless.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. I know how hard a guard¡¯s life can be.¡± Tristan began eating the amazing eggs fried up in plenty of butter. Paired with a healthy few slices of crisped up bread ¨C he was in heaven. ¡°I have not eaten this in years,¡± he said as he dug into the second serving that Gertrude seemingly brought out on instinct.

    Felicity put her head next to Tristan¡¯s ear, ¡°I¡¯m going to go out and about and cause some havoc. That fine with you?¡± Tristan silently nodded, and Felicity flew back upstairs.

    Persim shook his head after a few minutes of silent eating. ¡°M¡¯lor- erm, Tristan. That¡¯s peasant fare.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± Tristan asked after swallowing a bite. ¡°I appreciate the simple things in life.¡±

    Faith smiled, ¡°A lord who enjoys the simple things, eh?¡±

    Tristan looked up at her and pointed to his currently-illusion-covered ears. ¡°I¡¯m a half-breed. And unlike you with it way down the line, I really show it off. I got used to the simple things when my father saw what happened.¡±

    Faith winced and her smile soured into a frown. She nodded curtly and sighed softly, ¡°Begging your pardon, then.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Tristan replied as he finished off his meal. Glancing back to the kitchen, he shouted back, ¡°Great meal! I¡¯m going to be off for the day.¡±

    Gertrude popped her head out of the doorway, ¡°Of course. Anything in particular for dinner?¡±

    Tristan smiled and looked at the two guards at the table, ¡°When is your shift change?¡±

    ¡°Sunset.¡±

    Tristan looked back to Gertrude, ¡°Let¡¯s get a big meal together. All the staff, these fine guards ¨C and their night shift counterparts.¡±

    Felicity flew back down the stairs and perched atop his head. Once more, she whispered in his ear, ¡°I stole a lady¡¯s wig! She was panicking! It was h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s!¡±

    Gertrude grinned broadly but there was a bit of panic behind the smile, ¡°Of course, Tristan. But the cost-¡±

    Tristan waved the concern away, ¡°I¡¯ll cover the cost out of my personal finances.¡± He reached down into his pocket, and he saw Felicity wave her paw-claw in front of his face as the storage dimension opened under his grip. He fished out ten gold coins and set them on the table. ¡°Let¡¯s really go all out, shall we? Make sure you cook enough for yourself to eat with us.¡±

    Gertrude¡¯s panic behind the expression vanished, ¡°Of course! I¡¯ll get right on it!¡± There was a glee behind her visage. ¡°Cooking up a right proper feast is just what this household could use.¡±

    The two guards went beet-red with either embarrassment or abash. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that for us, Lord Tristan,¡± Faith muttered.

    Tristan waved the concern away, ¡°It¡¯s fine. Now, would you two be so kind as to accompany me today? I need to go shopping. Crossmark Square should have what I need.¡±

    The two guards nodded, scarfed down the rest of their food, and then walked the dishes over to the kitchen before emerging once more. They picked up the halberds that Tristan had not noticed were laid along the floor on the far side of the table. ¡°Of course.¡±

    He waved goodbye to Gertrude who gave him a wave back, and setting out the front door he greeted Benjamin and Benji, notified them of his plans, and was bid farewell as the younger of the two men split off to go to the back entrance of the townhouse.

    Traveling through the city was uneventful. Tristan was a noble, with his seal on prominent display on his chest, with the king¡¯s favor slotted on top. And he was escorted by two of the crown¡¯s finest ¨C not just mere mercenaries like The Black Company.

 Chapter 26: A few items and getting rid of the goods

    <hr>

    Tristan had grabbed a cloak as he left the house, and threw it around his shoulders as he pulled the hood up. Felicity wriggled her way inside and draped herself around his neck. To any Elf-blooded passerby ¨C even if that heritage was far down their line of generations ¨C they would just see some fancy animal-pelt scarf.

    The plan Tristan had in his head was straightforward: head to the market and buy some high-quality items that he could practice artifice on. At the moment, investigating the assassins was not feasible. If it was his father, chasing the man down during a dragon hunt would be risky and time consuming.

    Plus, the king wanted him to remain around the capital. Using this time to practice spells, learn more from the primers, and then put those spells into some items with artifice was, to his mind, the best way to use that extra allotment.

    Crossmark Square was one of the premier ¡®upper-middle-class¡¯ markets. As Tristan¡¯s family was low nobility, they only occasionally visited the firmly ¡®upper-class¡¯ Gilded District where the richest of the rich spent their dynastic wealth. As he strolled into the space, he did catch the attention of a few people who hurriedly and pointedly ignored his presence.

    Tristan was used to it. Half-breeds were shunned, and despite him bearing the king¡¯s favor ¨C he was still going to be shunned. At this point, he¡¯d been victim to that for long enough that he did not truly care about what others thought regarding his heritage.

    He made his way to a shop he had always wanted to frequent as a child, but his mother detested. The welded-together, crossed swords denoting the type of establishment hung from the second-story balcony. And beneath it, a sign, reading Crossmark Smiths was hung. The bright, black lettering stood out boldly from the crimson background. Tristan opened the door and stepped inside.

    Almost instantly his improved Elven senses were hit by the familiar smell of polish. All around him; armor displays and weapon racks were bristling with a variety of weapons and protective pieces. The sheer breadth of options was something to take in, and Tristan just stood there in the center of the doorway until one of his two escorts behind him coughed slightly, and Tristan realized he had been standing there dumbly. Walking inside, he spotted an attendant behind the desk.

    Walking up to the attendant, he cleared his throat slightly and the man turned. ¡°¡®Ah can I ¡®elp you?¡±

    Tristan looked around once more, ¡°I want a high-quality dagger.¡±

    The man nodded and pointed behind Tristan as he came out from behind the countertop. ¡°Over ¡®here we ¡®ave a fine selec¡¯ion.¡± He led Tristan to a rack that had all manner of daggers; push daggers, anelace, stiletto, baselard, dirk, misericorde, and ones that Tristan had no clue what the proper name was because they were curved in such a strange fashion.

    But Tristan¡¯s eyes were drawn to a locked cabinet with a series of four, short blades. Black, cord-wrapped hilts with a bronze pommel and angular cross guard, with a slim, curved, steel blade. Each of them looked identical, save for the style of the cross guard and the length of curve along the edge. ¡°How much are these?¡± Tristan asked.

    ¡°Fif¡¯y gold.¡±

    Tristan nodded, ¡°Could you open it so I can see how it feels?¡±

    The man gave him a curious, sideways glance filled with distrust. But, Tristan just tapped the amulet around his neck and smiled in the most relaxed way he could muster. ¡°Please, I wouldn¡¯t steal things with the king¡¯s best right behind me.¡±

    The attendant nodded, withdrew a key from around his neck, and opened the display case. ¡°Which one do you wan¡¯ ¡®o ¡®old?¡±

    Tristan pointed to the one with the least bend to it. ¡°That one, please.¡±

    The man pulled it out of the case and handed it to Tristan. He held it and flipped it around a few times between upright and point-down, manipulating it with grace and ease. It felt very good to hold, and he could tell the craftsmanship was phenomenal. If this doesn¡¯t count as excellent craftsmanship, I don¡¯t know what would. He looked up at the attendant, ¡°Do you have some rope to test it on? Or spare chainmail?¡±

    The man nodded and held his hand out. Tristan handed him the blade and followed him back to the counter. The man reached under the counter and pulled out a folded-over pad of leather, placed some chainmail on top of it, and then handed the blade back to Tristan. ¡°Give I¡¯ a ¡®ry.¡±

    Tristan gripped the dagger point-down and stabbed it with all of his might into the chainmail. Not surprisingly, the chainmail did not break ¨C was meant to stop slashing and piercing damage, after all. But, he inspected the material after pulling the blade back and he could see that the rings were heavily damaged, and inspecting the edge and tip saw that the blade had suffered no wear and tear or damage.

    Going to the rope next, he took off several slices with ease. ¡°Wood?¡± he asked.

    The shopkeep sighed and pulled out a block of wood. The dreaded ¡®chop¡¯ test that would really evaluate the quality of the weapon. Tristan took several hacking slices at the length of wood, seeing chunks of it splinter and fly off. Then, he went back to the rope and found to his satisfaction that it still cut true. ¡°Perfect! I¡¯ll take it.¡± He reached into his pocket, and Felicity opened the extradimensional storage space. Leaves me with eighty-two gold pieces, he thought as he withdrew the funds.

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    The man stepped away for a moment going to a small supply closet behind the counter and he returned with an excellent quality sheath. He handed it to Tristan and then scooped up the coins. ¡°Pleasure doin business.¡±

    Tristan nodded and sheathed the dagger before affixing that to his belt. ¡°Likewise.¡± He turned and left ¨C the guards stopping their browsing as they fell in line behind him. I would bet that if the sheath is high quality as well to match, it could also be an artificed item. The idea of making more objects that could perform spells just by having essence focused into them filled Tristan with a giddy sense of excitement.

    He had always wondered how some people could use magic mid-combat. It seemed very complicated having to say a spell phrase, perform a spell gesture, while being attacked. He was sure it could be done ¨C someone memorizing it well enough and practicing that spell enough to do the gesture and phrase very quickly¡­but it made more sense to have the spells on-demand and just requiring a surge of essence to activate.

    Continuing his shopping, he next went to an herbalist and apothecary shop. For another twenty gold he got a fully stocked alchemist¡¯s kit: a leather-bound, wooden case with a handle on top. Inside were dozens of dried-out herbs in well-labeled jars, with extra jars ¨C the herbs having been most of the expense to get in their dried and travel-ready form. Ten electrum coins bought a manual on advanced potions. He already knew many from his grandfather¡¯s practical, hands-on training at their countryside manor. But, with his ability to use imbuement spells, he could make elixirs.

    And this manual had the recipe for essence-restorative potions. If he made those into elixirs, then he would have a valuable backup reserve. Plus, there were recipes for curative potions that could fix all manner of ills. But, in elixir form, they could do so much more. If I can help it, he thought, I¡¯m going to make sure that I¡¯m prepared for any situation I come across.

    The memory of having to cut off that woman¡¯s foot to keep her from dying, and the sorrow on the daughter¡¯s face, confirmed Tristan¡¯s choice in his mind. I don¡¯t want to do that again if I can help it. If I had these herbs, and knew how to imbue elixirs like I do now¡­she wouldn¡¯t have had to be maimed to survive.

    With his mood thoroughly soured from that recollection, and his mind resolved, he had one more location to visit. But he did not know where it would be. Turning to Faith, he softly asked, ¡°Where could I find someone to sell valuables to?¡±

    She looked at him with a curious expression. ¡°Depends on what you¡¯re trying to sell.¡±

    ¡°Jewelry,¡± Tristan honestly replied.

    Persim frowned, ¡°Stolen goods? From your family?¡±

    Tristan shook his head and chose to obfuscate the truth, ¡°No. Just valuables I¡¯ve come across in my travels.¡±

    Both guards gave each other a quick glance, but Persim nodded and gestured with the tip of his halberd. ¡°You could try one of the goldsmiths in the Gilded District ¨C they might take it.¡±

    I don¡¯t want to risk that, Tristan thought. They might recognize a piece if they worked on it for the king¡¯s treasury. Think, Tristan¡­He shook his head and looked at Persim, ¡°No, that won¡¯t work. I¡¯ve got an idea.¡± I can¡¯t sell them, because that might be cause for someone recognizing them.

    Tristan turned and began walking to a more industrialized area of the capital. A place called The Choke because of the heavy smoke that would waft up from the smithies and forges.

    <hr>

    Getting to the district, Tristan had to wrap his mouth and nose with his cloak to help mask the stench that assailed his nostrils. He had been to the district twice before with his grandfather to purchase smithing hammers for armor maintenance at home. He was adamant that the best course of action for taking his ill-gotten goods for monetary conversion was to get it all melted down. They can probably pick out the gemstones beforehand, he thought. And as long as I watch them while they do it, then I can keep them honest.

    Finding a smelter was easy enough, as was getting the attention of an older man whose arms and exposed torso were stained with soot. After a bit of haggling, Tristan got a pretty good deal, all things considered. The next few hours he sat as he watched ¨C refreshing his Disguise Form as needed to keep his ruse up. By the end of the whole process, he was handed six gold ingots and a small, leather pouch full of gemstones.

    Felicity had flown off during the wait, and when she came back to land on his head ¨C still invisible, she whispered in his ear. ¡°You won¡¯t believe what I just did!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asked softly as the loud hiss of the smelters drowned out his voice to all except Felicity.

    ¡°I saw a guy go into an outhouse. Well, I locked the door from the outside, and then found the vent up top and put a bunch of scrap cloth I found over the hole!¡±

    ¡°Seems kind of cruel,¡± Tristan muttered.

    Felicity was giggling, ¡°That¡¯s not the best part! He was trapped for¡­I don¡¯t know, an hour? So someone else came to use the outhouse, and when they got the door unjammed ¨C the guy inside had fallen asleep!¡± She cackled madly, ¡°And then! Then they pulled him out with his pants still down around his waist! He just fell on the floor. Thud! Then¡­then he rolled over and looked completely drunk. He staggered out of the back yard and into a tavern like nothing happened!¡±

    Tristan glanced up at her as she looked down at him, as if she was anticipating his reaction of laughter. ¡°Sounds like you were really mean for a laugh.¡±

    Felicity frowned, ¡°So what if I was? It was a prank.¡±

    ¡°A very mean one,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Do me a favor ¨C if you¡¯re going to be my companion here in the Mortal Realm¡­don¡¯t do harmful pranks, okay? Nothing that will hurt people. For all you know, being exposed to all of that bad air in there might have made him really sick.¡±

    She groaned in dismay, ¡°Fiiiine. Gah, you are no fun! A little pain in a prank is perfectly okay.¡± She tapped the side of his head with her paw-claw, ¡°It made you chasing me really funny. Remember that time that you slipped and hit your elbow, dropping your sword?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me.¡±

    <hr>

    Heading back across the capital, the sun began to set over Blackspire. He made it to the Gilded District and found a reputable jeweler who gave him a disgusted look; but with his king¡¯s favor, he was able to sell the gold bars and gems for a goodly sum of two-hundred gold. He did, however, keep one gold bar and five sapphires.

    Going back home, he was pleased to find that the shift change had not yet happened. Bidding his two companions a temporary goodbye, he went inside and headed to his room. He spotted Marlowe who eyed Tristan with disgust. ¡°Marlowe, bring water to my tub, please. We are having guests for dinner tonight.¡±

    The man practically bristled but offered a stilted bow. ¡°Of course.¡±