《Last Lord of the Fey》 Chapter 1: Chasing a Fairy Dragon
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. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. 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?¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°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 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.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°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. Well, there were others, before my time. But they were sealed away. We were the faithful 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.
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.¡±
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. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°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.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. 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.¡±
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!¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. 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 discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please 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.
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.
¡°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.¡±
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.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. 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.¡±
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
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. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. 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¡­¡±
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.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°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 asked to verify his earlier suspicion, 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.
¡°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!¡±
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?¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. 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.¡±
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.¡± 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.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°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.¡±
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.¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. 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 he 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. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°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?¡±
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.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°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 doesn’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.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°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 assassin’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 originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°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 ear. ¡°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: Monarch’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?¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. 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.¡±
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. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°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.
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 tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. 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.
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.
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.
Chapter 21: A primer on artifice
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. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. 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.
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:
  1. The item is of excellent craftsmanship.
    1. You would not, for instance, be able to apply artifice to a rusty sword, but you could apply it to castle-forged steel blade.
  2. You have access to the spell type you wish to use to cause a specified effect.
    1. 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).
  3. Essence capacity enough to cast two spells of the same Order in rapid succession.
    1. Unless another essence-weaver is present, as in the case of 2.1 above.
The process you will use is as follows:
  1. Place the item you wish to artifice on a flat surface.
  2. Place both hands on either side of the item and make the appropriate spell gesture (see separate Order spell instructions).
  3. State the spell phrase (see separate Order spell instructions), while channeling your essence into your fingertips.
    1. This ¡®sets¡¯ the item to be artificed to receive the spell you will cast in step 5 below.
  4. Remove your hands from either side of the object.
    1. 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.
  5. Perform the spell you wish to place within the object and focus your willpower on the object of artifice.
    1. The spell MUST be of the same Order as the spell used in Steps 2 and 3 above.
    2. Failure to do this will result in the destruction of the object.
      1. 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.
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.
¡°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
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.
Discern Artifice (First) Required Components: 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.
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! Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. 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.
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.
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.
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.
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 sister’s visit
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.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. 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
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?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. 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.
Whisper Seeker Aural Sensitivity Enhancement (Second) [Alteration] Enhances the aural senses to allow for better hearing of whispered words and phrases.
¡°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.
Resonance Bangle Discordant Melody (First) [Sound Elementalism] Causes a loud, clattering, banging noise that grates on the ears; disrupting the ability to hear.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
¡°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. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. 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
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. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! 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.
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.¡±
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.¡± Chapter 27: An unfortunate turn of events
Felicity insisted on flying around and causing mischief in the higher-up noble townhouses closer to the Blackspire. ¡°There are so many valuables I could get my hands on! And painting frames I can tilt just a little bit so they aren¡¯t positive if it is askew or not!¡± An idea popped into Tristan¡¯s head as he finished scrubbing the bit of soot off of his body in the tub. ¡°Can you do me a favor? Some scouting?¡± She perched on the edge of the tub and looked at him inquisitively, ¡°Depends on what it is.¡± ¡°Go and spy on Gisele. Get a gauge on her emotions and what¡¯s going on in the Damadan household. I¡¯m pretty sure she isn¡¯t the person responsible for the assassins¡­but I¡¯d like to have some reassurance. You should be able to find their house easily enough if you look for the emblem she was wearing on the front gate.¡± Felicity reached into her extradimensional storage space and pulled out a starberry, chomping down on it and nodding, ¡°Can do. Want me to leave anything?¡± Tristan pointed to the desk, where his new dagger was already sitting in the sheath. ¡°The essence lantern, the cloak, the primer on artifice, the one for ice elementalism, my armor, my sword.¡± ¡°Go-ong to inveshtigate all of th items?¡± she asked with her mouth full as she flapped over and began pulling items out of the storage. Tristan nodded as he got up and dried off. ¡°Yes. I want to know exactly what everything I have does.¡± She finished pulling the items out then gave him a small salute, ¡°Going to cause some mild discomfort and scout.¡± She flew off out of the window, shimmering as she went invisible to all but Elves and fairy dragons once more. Tristan got on some decent clothes, strapped the small dagger to his waist, and headed downstairs as the dinner bell rang. The table was full of all manner of foodstuffs, and the various guards were all seated and chatting jovially. They all stood up once Tristan entered the room, and bowed slightly. Benjamin, the oldest of the bunch that Tristan had already met, spoke. ¡°Thank you for your gracious invitation, Lord Tristan. These four are on the night shift. Theron and Theros ¨C twin brothers who will be guarding the back entrance. And these two are Valerie and Sealeh who will be guarding the front.¡± The various individuals thanked Tristan and sat back down. He glanced at Gertrude who was standing in the door frame leading to the kitchen. ¡°The table looks set. Come, take a seat and join us.¡± ¡°Oh, young master, I couldn¡¯t possi-¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± Tristan replied as he waved her comment away. ¡°I want everyone to eat and enjoy. Please, I insist. I¡¯ll get the wine and-¡± he glanced at the night shift guards, ¡°Some water to dilute it. Can¡¯t have people guarding the house and home drunk, can we?¡± The guards shared a slight chuckle and Theron, a young adult man with a crop of medium-length black hair, nodded. ¡°Absolutely. Watered-down wine should be good enough.¡± Tristan pulled out a chair for Gertrude before doing the same for the other two servants ¨C though he did so for Marlowe begrudgingly. Then, as the rest began eating, he ducked into the kitchen, down to the cellar, and acquired several varieties of wine and a few jugs of water from the cool casks. Heading back upstairs, he was quite pleased to hear the sound of jovial conversation and general enjoyment. He began pouring the wine and water for each person, and only when everyone was served did he sit down and start to serve himself from the platters of food. As he was heaping some potatoes onto his plate, the conversation went silent. Tristan looked up and saw that everyone¡¯s eyes were bulging. Veins, pronounced against their skin as their pallor began to turn dark purple. Immediately, Tristan got to his feet and went around behind Gertrude; hefting her out of the chair and trying to force out whatever she was choking on. But then it hit him. They can¡¯t all be choking at once. He looked down at the food. Did they¡­oh gods, no. Poison? Did someone try to poison me? He turned Gertrude¡¯s face to his and he could see the panic in her eyes. ¡°No no no!¡± he backed away as the guards whose names he had just learned, the asshole servant Marlowe, the young Theresa, and the beloved chef he grew up with ¨C all were dying in front of him. There has to be something I can do! He sprinted up the stairs and looked around for the alchemist¡¯s kit. Where did I put it! I could swear I put it in the- he stopped as he realized, I put it in Felicity¡¯s storage. Tristan ran to the window and screamed out, ¡°Felicity!¡± Several times, he yelled her name, ¡°Felicity!¡± But he heard nothing. Rushing downstairs, he saw that everyone was slouched against the table, had fallen out of their chairs, or were wheezing and on their last legs. He ran over to Gertrude and held her close to his chest, ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be you.¡± There was a noise that stood out to Tristan. The slight schlink of steel drawn from leather. He looked up towards the kitchen and saw a black-cloaked individual. They had a dagger drawn that was very similar to the one that Tristan had taken and turned in to the king¡¯s court. He could not make out their features; the mask covering their mouth and the hood covering all but their eyes. Those cold, deep, blue eyes that seemed to pierce Tristan¡¯s soul. ¡°Not hungry?¡± the masculine figure asked. ¡°How about some steel!¡± Tristan turned and sprinted up the stairs, hearing the assassin chase after him. But, Tristan knew a few things about the townhouse that this assassin didn¡¯t. He knew that there was a small closet at the top of each landing, and that Marlowe never put away the cleaning supplies correctly. As he turned the corner on the landing to keep going up, he pulled open the closet and the incorrectly-stored objects ¨C buckets, mops, sponges, soap ¨C all came tumbling out and down the stairs. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The assassin slipped slightly, but grabbed the railing to keep their footing as they kept up their pursuit. It bought time, though. Tristan had a few more precious seconds. Getting up to his room, he got his hand on his sword and drew the blade, turning to face the open doorway with a bladed stance to present the smallest object possible. No armor. I have to be flawless. Just pretend you¡¯re dueling Gisele. Deep breaths. He tried to calm his racing heart and focus on the door opposite of his open doorway, trusting to his grandfather¡¯s advice. ¡°When you¡¯re fighting something, don¡¯t focus on it. Instead, focus on something in the distance behind your foe. You react better with your peripheral vision than you do by staring at the danger.¡± He spun his essence crucible, feeling the cooling, soothing embrace of the empowering, magic-fueling substance race through his body and assist in his calming breaths. He focused the energy down his essence channels in his arms and to the blade he held. It shimmered with a silvery glow before extending as it had previously during his test. Thanks to the artificed spell, it will naturally be drawn towards vital areas¡­I think. I don¡¯t know if it works on non-dragons¡­I just have to trust my training. The assassin rounded the corner and paused for a moment before letting out a chuckle, ¡°A big sword like that in a small environment like this? You really are a stupid mongrel.¡± ¡°Why are you hunting me?!¡± Tristan shouted. He felt sorrow well up in him. ¡°My mom, everyone here? Why?!¡± He saw the figure¡¯s grip on their weapon tighten as they growled, ¡°Ready to die?¡± Tristan pushed down the sorrow and focused on the swirling essence in his chest; the soothing cool bringing a sense of calm and clarity to his mind. ¡°Not today.¡± The assassin lunged forward, trying to duck under Tristan¡¯s blade. But Tristan was fast ¨C especially when unarmored ¨C and he pulled his body back before stabbing forth, catching the assassin in the gap between the neck and collarbone. The blade sank down several feet before protruding from his lower back. The assassin went limp and Tristan drew his thin sword back. Just like the prior assassin, this one vanished to dust, leaving behind their weapon and cloak. Tristan closed his eyes and focused on his hearing, trying to pick up any out of the ordinary sound. They changed tactics once already with the poison. They might have sent multiple agents. Pat-tap pat-tap, he heard the sound of feet coming up the stairs, and readied himself once more. Another two cloaked figures came through the door, paused, took in the scene, and then rushed forward. Tristan slashed at the left one first, and the figure parried his strike before closing the distance. Tristan let the essence fade from the blade as it shrunk to the point he could use it to parry up close. But the one on his right came in towards his blind spot. Tristan unsheathed the dagger at his waist and got it in the way of the approaching blade, deflecting it. Pulling back slightly, he kicked out at the one on the left he had parried with his sword ¨C buying himself a bit of space as he turned into and bull rushed the one on his right, shoulder checking them into one of the support columns of the bed frame. The wood splintered and cracked as the assassin had the wind knocked out of them, and Tristan felt a piercing, red-hot pain just under his ribs. He was able to get his knife up next to the assassin¡¯s throat and slid the blade across their vital area. Blood spewed out in a geyser that Tristan had to turn away from so he wasn¡¯t blinded. The blade slipped out from his midsection as the assassin collapsed ¨C but Tristan had to turn and face a brutal assault from the other assassin. They moved in and stabbed at Tristan, who could only weakly deflect the blade before giving a half-hearted counter-stab. The assassin pulled back and stabbed forth yet again, but Tristan was able to move his knife-arm in the path of the blade; intentionally taking a hit. That gave him the opening to get in a strike of his own with his blade, and the longer reach of the weapon ensured that he got a good hit. Right into the man¡¯s ribs as he stabbed up and into the center of his torso. The assassin staggered backward, bleeding heavily, and then collapsed. They turned to dust, leaving only the dagger and cloak behind. Tristan sat on the bed, glancing down at the other assassin whose throat he had slit. They finished bleeding out, and as the light left their eyes, their body vanished ¨C also leaving behind the cloak and dagger. I¡­I¡¯m alive, Tristan thought. He reached down with a shaky hand and felt the slowly-growing wet spot where he had been stabbed underneath the ribs. Shit! He stumbled over to the apothecary kit and tried to flip open the primer on healing remedies; planning on making a curative potion that he could cast Infuse Elixir on to increase its potency. But as he fumbled through the pages he felt darkness closing in all around him, and he heard a faint flapping noise.
Tristan woke up. He was on the floor of the townhouse and felt a wicked pain in his stomach area. His throat was parched, and he heard clinking noises on the desk above him. ¡°Wa-¡± he tried to say ¡°water¡± but couldn¡¯t get the words out. Felicity¡¯s head popped over the edge of the desk, and the look of relief on her face was quite evident. She spoke rapidly, and the concern coming from her voice was something that Tristan had not heard before, ¡°Oh thank The Matriarch you¡¯re alive! I bandaged you up, and I¡¯m trying to work on the potion that you can turn into an elixir. I think it is about ready if you have essence to spend.¡± Tristan gestured with his left, uninjured arm in a sipping motion, and Felicity hopped over to the tub and scooped up some of the water in a phial before bringing it over. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know where you have clean water.¡± He took the phial and quaffed it, ignoring the grit and dirt that went along with it. Felicity jumped back up to the desk and then back down once more, holding another phial in her paw-claw. ¡°You need to do the Infuse Elixir spell.¡± Tristan put his uninjured hand on the phial and spun his essence crucible. Biting the cork to remove it, he shoved his finger into the mixture and began swirling it as he spun his essence crucible. The words were hard to get out, but he did get them out. ¡°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). His essence swirled out from his torso and into his hands, and he pushed it into the potion in his grip. The mixture of crushed and powdered herbs with some type of light oil glowed with a brilliant, light-blue sheen before fading and becoming a ruddy hue. He swallowed the herbaceous liquid. The warmth hit his stomach, and that warmth spread through his body and filled him up to the brim ¨C almost seeming to fight against the coolness of his essence flowing throughout him. He felt the pain leave his arm, and as the minutes ticked by and he focused on calm breathing, he felt the pain in his abdomen decrease to nothing. ¡°I think it worked,¡± he said weakly as he pulled his shirt up and felt along his abdomen. ¡°No wound.¡± Felicity sighed with relief. ¡°Good. When I came back, you were bleeding pretty badly.¡± Tristan pushed himself to a sitting position, wincing at some tightness and soreness in the midsection. ¡°What recipe did you use?¡± ¡°The one labeled ¡°healing elixir ¨C greater.¡± It took a lot of your herb supplies.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Worth keeping me alive.¡± He coughed slightly as he moved over to the assassin¡¯s robes. He saw the same symbol on them, and inspecting the daggers saw that those were similar as well. Same people. And they- He felt sorrow well up in him once more for the people downstairs who all died to poison meant for him. People who would possibly be alive if he had not tried to make nice with them; what he had done his whole life since the traits manifested to try and get people to look past his half-breed heritage and instead see him for who he was. He slammed his fist on the ground and felt tears on his cheeks. ¡°Damnit¡­¡± Chapter 28: A father’s return and reckoning
Felicity flapped over and put her paw-claw on his back, ¡°It¡¯ll be okay.¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°They died because of me. They didn¡¯t have to die.¡± He looked around at the cloaks. ¡°Three assassins,¡± he whispered, ¡°We need to get to the bottom of this and find out who sent them.¡± He looked over at Felicity and saw the look of sympathy on her face. ¡°What did you find out spying on my sister?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it is her,¡± she said. ¡°Gisele was crying in her ¨C I assume husband ¨C his arms, and telling stories about the nurse maid that you advised her was slain.¡± Confirms what I thought. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s the one. Which leaves father as the only likely suspect. Tristan gestured around the room, ¡°Put the cloaks and daggers into storage.¡± He stood up and went to the desk as Felicity swooped around the room gathering the items. Tristan swapped out his bloodstained smallclothes and put on his armor, the knife on the same belt as his sword, hung the essence-lantern from his hip, and took the Cloak of Winterbloom, wrapping it around his neck and letting it hang over one shoulder. He made sure his family¡¯s seal was on the front of his armor, hanging from the chain and with the king¡¯s favor slotted into the top. Spinning his essence crucible, he poured the energy into his amulet and assumed his half-breed appearance. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s smart?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°Fairy dragons and learned people will know what that cloak means.¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°I want them to come after me. Not people around me. Even if it marks me as a target¡­no one else dies on my behalf.¡± I¡¯m not going to let anyone else die because of me if I can help it. He picked up the alchemist¡¯s kit ¨C taking note of what was used up in Felicity¡¯s frenzied potion making attempt. She was successful despite wasting so much, he thought as he saw the oils and herbs that were flung around the desk¡¯s surface. He put everything save for his equipped gear into the storage dimension. ¡°I¡¯m going to Blackspire,¡± Tristan said. ¡°Hand me that small hip pouch.¡± Felicity flew over to the bedside table and snatched up an old coin pouch that Tristan had left behind when he was a child; a present from his father. The only really valuable gift he had from the man. He fitted it to his belt, and pulled ten gold pieces from Felicity¡¯s extradimensional storage space. ¡°Want me to just shadow you from the outside again?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°I¡¯m going right to the Archon. I¡¯ll inform him of what happened, and let him know that I cannot just stay in the capital. Too much of a chance for collateral damage¡­like downstairs¡­¡± he trailed off as memories of Gertrude flooded into his mind. The woman was a beacon of positivity and joviality; almost like an aunt, in some ways. Tristan shook his head clear of the memories. Not now. I can grieve later. He pushed them deep down into the recesses of his mind. ¡°I¡¯ll track you the best I can and meet back up when you¡¯re clear. Don¡¯t get imprisoned, eh? I can jailbreak you ¨C but it would be a pain!¡± Felicity took off through the window. He headed down the stairs and out the front door, cutting a course directly for the main boulevard. But the streets were crowded. ¡°It¡¯s not a festival day,¡± he muttered as he pushed his way through the crowd to see what was going on. And his heart sank into his stomach. Far down the road, heading up towards the castle at the center of the hilltop; the same destination that Tristan was headed to, was a man that he was very familiar with. The man who fathered Tristan before leaving him to his grandfather post-manifestation of his Elven heritage. Fawkes Anorox. The man was atop a magnificent destrier, waving to the crowd as a fledgling-sized dragon was hauled behind on a series of four carts that had been strung together. Elemental Realm of Wind, judging from the light-green color, Tristan thought. Not the most naturally aggressive of the dragonkind. Why would one harry a kingdom¡¯s borders? His father¡¯s light, grey hair still had a few streaks of black youth running through it. The beard and moustache matched up to the short haircut; but most prominent of all were the eyes. His father¡¯s eyes were the color of warm, amber honey. And they were piercing, as if they were digging into the soul of whoever they made contact with. Tristan immediately turned to the castle and began running towards the Blackspire, showing his symbol to any guard who questioned his approach. The sight of the king¡¯s favor was enough to get them to back off. He¡¯s vain. He¡¯ll drag out this victory parade, Tristan thought. I have time to talk to the Archon and explain what happened. Getting to the Blackspire itself was easy; as was getting inside. He received a few curious and many disgusted glances, but he ignored those as he walked up to a servant dressed in fitted black robes. ¡°The Archon. Where is he?¡± The servant raised an inquisitive eyebrow, ¡°In the main hall, waiting for the return of the mighty Lord Fawkes Anorox.¡± He glanced down at Tristan¡¯s family crest, and paled slightly. ¡°Oh¡­you¡¯re the half-breed dragonslayer.¡± Tristan turned on his heel and went right to the throne room. Thankfully, the doors were open, and the hall was slowly filling out with the upper crust of nobility. He saw the Archon at the far end next to the king¡¯s throne, and the two were conversing with a handful of other advisors. Tristan approached along the side of the room, and was stopped by two of the crownguard who crossed their halberds. ¡°Archon!¡± Tristan said, raising his voice enough to be well-heard. Grimtome looked over at Tristan and his faced immediately darkened. He turned to the king, said something, and then walked over to Tristan, waving off the guards. ¡°What is it that makes you break decorum on such an-¡± ¡°Assassins,¡± Tristan interrupted. ¡°Three of them. Poisoned everyone. I fought and killed the three.¡± The Archon¡¯s eyes narrowed and he gestured to a servant¡¯s passage behind and to the side of the throne, ¡°This way. Now. I have little time.¡± Tristan followed the man until they were well into the labyrinthine passages of the servants tunnels that ran throughout the Blackspire. They emerged from another entrance in a well-appointed office, and Grimtome stood behind his desk, pointing at a chair in front of it. ¡°Sit. Talk. Now.¡± Tristan shared his making nice with the guards, inviting them all to dinner at their shift change, Gertrude¡¯s instructions, the poisoning; everything except for Felicity and the stolen jewelry and gemstones. He ended with, ¡°¡­And everyone is still down there at the table. The assassins turned to dust like last tim-¡± The Archon raised his hand and Tristan fell silent. The man leaned forward and rubbed his temples as he sank into his chair. ¡°I have to return to greet the conquering dragonslayer. But, with him around, we do not need you to stick near the capital in case of another dragon incursion.¡± The Archon reached into his desk and removed a white-cloth-wrapped object, handing it to Tristan. ¡°Open it.¡± Tristan did so unquestioningly, and inside was a small, black, wavy line intertwined with one that was white. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°My favor. It slots into your noble seal ¨C just like the king¡¯s favor would.¡± Tristan nodded and felt around the object, finding another slot on the bottom that the favor clicked into. I always wondered what the bottom sockets were for. ¡°Why give this to me?¡± Tristan asked. ¡°I want you out of the capital. I can¡¯t risk these assassins that are coming after you harming more of the populace in their cause.¡± He pointed at it, ¡°I can use that to talk to you. You might be a half-breed, but you are only one of three dragonslayers at the king¡¯s disposal. Until your sister delivers and recovers, at least. We could always send out soldiers, but having trained specialists reduces casualties.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began scribbling instructions. ¡°I¡¯m writing out orders that you will keep on your person at all times. You are going to be ¡°on patrol¡± in the outlying provinces, hunting down another fairy dragon.¡± His eyes darted up to Tristan, ¡°Perhaps one followed you after your escape from the Fey Realm ¨C we know that the treasury was looted and priceless paintings were damaged very recently.¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate. But still, it doesn¡¯t expl-¡± ¡°Your official task will be to hunt down this fairy dragon. But, as you said, they can shapeshift and turn invisible. Hence, you could be on this hunt for any amount of time. The perfect excuse for you to get out of the capital and away from the populace. The assassins are obviously after you. Say your goodbyes, pack your shit, and leave the capital.¡± The Archon frowned and tapped the parchment that was rapidly drying before him. ¡°You will be expected to answer my call to respond to dragon sightings. But this gives you the ability to leave on official business without stirring too much attention. And¡­when those assassins come after you, maybe you can get more information out of them.¡± Just as I planned, Tristan thought. Glad my idea paid off. None of the responsibilities of nobility; well, save for being on-call to deal with dragons which is the whole point of my training anyways. But now I can travel wherever this assassin plot takes me. Tristan stood up and nodded, clasping his fist to his chest and bowing. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready to answer the kingdom¡¯s call for a dragonslayer.¡± The Archon put his wax seal on the bottom of the scroll and then rolled it up before handing it to Tristan. He put it inside of his collar, slipping it down to between the slightly pronounced torso of his armor and the layer of padding beneath. The Archon nodded, ¡°Come, we greet the returning hero of the realm.¡± Tristan scoffed as he was led back through the sinuous servants tunnels. ¡°It was only fledgling. That¡¯s hardly a difficult-¡± ¡°Have you hunted one that size?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Tristan sheepishly replied. ¡°Then I would not recommend talking of it. And I will send some of my agents to clean up the mess at your family¡¯s townhouse. We cannot have your father returning to a slaughter, can we?¡± The man kept walking and soon enough they were in the throne room. The Archon patted Tristan on the shoulder, ¡°You be safe, now.¡± ¡°Why are you watching out for me?¡± Tristan asked with genuine curiosity and some suspicion. ¡°You¡¯re taking everything I¡¯ve said at face value-¡± The Archon lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in, his lips almost brushing Tristan¡¯s elongated ears still shrouded in illusion. ¡°I have learned much about you through divination spells, Tristan Winterbloom. You are destined for greatness based upon your bloodline alone. And, well, I hope that you don¡¯t forget the people who helped you in your time of need. It is always good to have friends in high places.¡± An opportunist, Tristan thought. Well, that¡¯s good enough for me. ¡°Thank you,¡± Tristan replied. A cheer was sent up from the front of the hall, and the Archon nudged Tristan back towards the general gallery. Tristan left the man and joined the crowd as he watched his father, the man who all-but disowned him, walked before the king and bowed. His grizzled, smoker¡¯s-voice came out in a deep baritone. ¡°Your grace. I, Fawkes Anorox, first of my name, have slain a mighty beast that threatened your lands. Its corpse lies on the footsteps of your mighty fortress.¡± Tristan felt rage boiling up inside him. The man who hated him just because of what he was. Who despised his mother and only used her for pleasure. The person who should have loved Tristan unconditionally, but instead shoved off his parental duties to Tristan¡¯s grandfather. Tristan seethed as he stood there, listening to the king praise his father¡¯s actions. Finally, Fawkes stood up and glanced around the gallery. When his eyes met Tristan¡¯s, his gaze narrowed. But he maintained his composure, and bowed once more to the king before being awarded a huge trunk of treasure. One of his squires ¨C a wanna-be dragonslayer who was taken on as a squire came up and helped move the treasure chest aside. Tristan couldn¡¯t help but scoff, and this drew glances from others around him. The king clapped his hands and left the chamber, and the various nobles began congregating in small groups. Gisele walked up to her father and embraced him, before telling him something that caused the man¡¯s face to become like stone. Fawkes turned to Tristan and made a beeline to him, shoving the younger half-breed against the wall. ¡°You did what?!¡± His stony visage altered to one of sheer rage. The room went silent as everyone looked at the returned hero pinning his son to the wall. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything!¡± Tristan shouted back, holding onto his father¡¯s wrist. Gisele must have lied to pin the blame on me. ¡°I went to the manor and found everyone dead. Explain that, father!¡± There was a gasp that echoed around the room as multiple people held hands to mouths. Tristan continued on, raising his voice. ¡°My mother was assassinated. Every servant was killed! And where were you? Off hunting a fucking fledgling? For months? Some mighty dragonslayer you a-¡± Fawkes punched Tristan in the face. To Tristan¡¯s surprise, the blow barely registered. ¡°You shut your mouth, boy,¡± his father growled. Tristan felt that rage explode into an inferno in his chest, and almost against his will, his essence crucible began spinning. He felt the cooling energy arcing through him; but the essence carried with it the sparks of crimson and gold from the blood he drank, amplifying Tristan¡¯s anger. ¡°You hated mother. You hate me! You¡¯re the one who hired them, right? You hired the assassins! You¡¯ve wanted me dead for years and shoved the responsibility for raising me onto grandfather!¡± His father became livid and punched Tristan again, ¡°I would do no such thing!¡± he shouted, trying to save face in the light of the true accusations that Tristan levied. ¡°Never! Why the fuck would I kill my own servants?¡± Tristan was past the point of rationality. He wanted his father to pay for the years of neglect. He wanted the man to finally acknowledge, in public, that he hated Tristan versus simply tolerating him. ¡°If not you then who?!¡± Tristan shouted as he pushed his father away. ¡°Admit it! You hired them!¡± Guards began to approach, but they were waved off by some higher up that Tristan didn¡¯t spot. Fawkes was grinding his teeth, seething with anger, before he let out a laugh laced with fury and satisfaction. ¡°That bitch of an Elf finally died, eh? About time! I can marry a proper woman!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk about her like that!¡± Tristan screamed. His essence crucible surged within his torso, and he saw the world blur silver, white, and icy-blue as the cascading crimson and black sparks scattered all around. ¡°She was your toy that grandfather forced you to marry for sake of her honor!¡± His father took a few steps back and drew his sword, ¡°You bastard. I never wanted you!¡± People cleared out of the center of the chamber, and Tristan heard booted feet approaching ¨C but once more, they seemed to be held back in some way. He could feel his cape fluttering behind him as his essence seeped from him unchecked. And then, people gasped. And he heard exclamations. ¡°An elf?¡± ¡°How¡¯d he father an elf?¡± ¡°He was a half-breed a second ago!¡± ¡°Boo! Boo!¡± Fawkes looked at Tristan with utter disgust. ¡°I disown you. I disinherit you.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± Tristan shouted as he felt righteous vindication rising up in him. ¡°Grandfather is the head of the family, not you! You can¡¯t remove me, only he has the right!¡± Tristan felt a tap on his shoulder, and glanced sideways to see Archon Grimtome with a grimace on his face. ¡°Your Elf side is showing.¡± Tristan froze and felt his rage melt away, replaced by the cold, hard truth of what was just spoken. He looked around the room and saw the looks of disgust, hatred, and outright contempt from everyone. Even the Archon had a look on his face mimicking those of the people around him. But, the corner of his mouth whispered the words, ¡°Get out of the capital. I¡¯ll talk to you later.¡± Tristan looked at his father and readjusted his cape. Well, if the owlcat is out of the hut, then I guess I should just embrace it. Give these assassins a nice, pretty target to lure them out like I planned. Tristan stood to his full height, and spoke with as much strength he could muster to make his declaration. ¡°I am Tristan Anorox, first of my name, and heir of the Anorox family! I am Tristan Winterbloom, of the Elven Winterbloom bloodline; lords of the Fey Realm and rulers over all other Elvenkind.¡± He glared at his father who seethed with hatred. ¡°And I am going to go slay a dragon you could never find, let alone kill.¡± He turned and began walking out of the room. People moved aside ¨C afraid of the Elf who walked among them, seeping magical power from his being and freezing the ground where he walked. The guards didn¡¯t stop him, but did follow a short distance behind. As did his father, whose hand was on the hilt of his sword. Tristan got out of the castle and immediately touched his index finger and thumb together, the ring finger to the same thing, held his middle finger aloft, and tucked his pinky into the base of his palm. ¡°Verhoa minut hunnulla, joka maastouttaa minut.¡± (Manifest a shroud around my form that will blend me into the surroundings). He blended into the environment, and his pursuers were left lost. Felicity flew down and landed on his head, making paw-claw biscuits on his head; somehow able to spot him despite the blending spell. ¡°Good show. Really good job.¡± Tristan grunted in response, only glancing up as he felt something glass thud against his skull. ¡°I got you something special. Some of that dragon¡¯s blood. It still smelled fine.¡± She put it into the extradimensional storage space. ¡°What now?¡± ¡°Now I leave the city,¡± Tristan replied. And I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll come back. Chapter 29: An extended Fey Realm stay
Tristan left the capital without sparing a single glance backward towards the capital that had tolerated him. I¡¯m still an Anorox, Tristan thought. Grandfather won¡¯t ever disown me; especially once he learns about what happened at the manor- The amulet around his neck began vibrating. As soon as he picked it up, he heard the Archon¡¯s voice in his head. ¡°Not a wise decision, exploding in anger and showing your true identity like that. We have two minutes before the spell fades.¡± ¡°How do I-¡± ¡°Talk and I hear.¡± ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°The Archon,¡± Tristan replied before focusing his attention on the symbol he gripped. ¡°Done? Good. Did you leave any notice for your head of house?¡± Crap. I didn¡¯t, Tristan thought. ¡°I didn¡¯t leave anything at the town house.¡± ¡°I will assist you, then, to avoid any misinformation. What do you want conveyed to Hurvun Anorox?¡± ¡°Everything I¡¯ve told you. Including my suspicions about my father being behind the assassins.¡± ¡°Noted. I would not advise your return to the capital any time soon.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to be going away for a while,¡± Tristan said. And¡­Grimtome has been very helpful. I trust him. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the Fey Realm.¡± ¡°Interesting¡­I would assume growing your essence crucible and training?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I have a bunch of spell primers I bought for my bloodline restrictions. I need to learn them. And, I need to prepare elixirs, items of artifice-¡± ¡°Your bloodline can make items of artifice? ¡°All Elves can,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Is that not common knowledge?¡± He kept moving through the city streets as he spoke ¨C and some people glanced his direction but saw only the chameleon-esque outline as he walked along the boulevard. ¡°No. I had no idea. This is why I detest the way the kingdom of Bhant does things regarding heritages. Well¡­my communication does not travel across Realms. Tell me, is there a time dilation?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Tristan said. ¡°One second.¡± He looked up at Felicity, ¡°No time dilation between the Mortal Realm and the Fey Realm, correct?¡± She nodded, ¡°Yup,¡± and kept making paw-claw biscuits on his head. Tristan returned his attention to the amulet, ¡°Yes, one day here is one day there.¡± ¡°Then five days from now, an hour after sunrise, I will attempt communication again.¡± There was a chuckle, followed by a slight sigh. ¡°I wish you luck in your essence-weaving endeavors. I cannot delve into these assassination matters without seeming invested ¨C so you are on your own for the investigation continuing forward. It very well could be your father.¡± Tristan sighed, ¡°I figured that would be the case.¡± ¡°Time comes to a close. Again, I hope that when you do come into your own, you do not forget the kindness I have shown and the invaluable aid I have provided.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t forget. Thank you for everything, Archon Grimtome.¡± ¡°Obadai. Call me Obadai. The spell comes to a conclu-¡± His voice was cut off as the amulet ceased vibrating. Tristan pushed the amulet under the collar of his armored breastplate and continued his journey out of the capital. Thankfully, the crowds were still milling about and talking about the ¡®triumphant dragonslayer¡¯ that had gone through the streets not too long before. It gave Tristan plenty of cover to lose himself in the crowd. But, he started to feel weak. I must be running low on essence from fueling this blending spell, he thought. Channeling the magical power into the amulet, he applied his half-elf illusion, and dropped the blending. Word hasn¡¯t spread yet ¨C I¡¯m ahead of that. He strode up to the main gates with confidence, holding up his noble seal with both the king and the Archon¡¯s favor slotted into it. ¡°I¡¯m going out to hunt a dragon.¡± One of the sergeants of the city guard ¨C not The Black Company, thankfully ¨C gave him a disgusted look and hiked his shoulder over his thumb. ¡°Sally port.¡± Tristan nodded and put the symbol back under the armor, headed to the side entrance leading out of the walls, and was let out of the heavily reinforced doors. It was just another dig against his half-breed heritage; making him go out of his way to traipse through the high grass and muddy ground outside of the walls instead of along the cobblestone main road that led into the capital. Felicity hung her head down to look at Tristan, ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°Going to the countryside and heading to the Fey Realm, like I said.¡± ¡°Training then?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°I want to go by one of the closer towns to restock my alchemist¡¯s kit. I am going to be well prepared against assassins going forward. Artificed items, curative and essence elixirs, panaceas for poison ¨C anything that I can think of.¡± Felicity sighed, ¡°Going to be a boring bit of time in the Fey Realm then.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I¡¯m going to be out every five days-¡± A thought struck him, and he smiled. ¡°You could stay out here and cause your mischief ¨C but also keep investigating the assassins. We can reconvene at my departure point at the same time I¡¯m talking to the Archon. Erm, sorry. Obadai.¡± Felicity giggled, ¡°That¡¯s his name? That¡¯s a silly sounding name.¡± Tristan reached a hand up and scratched her head right between the antlers, ¡°Some may say Felicity is too. So, what do you think?¡± Felicity nodded, ¡°Sounds like a plan! I¡¯m going to do so many shenanigans!¡± Tristan chuckled, ¡°You¡¯ll need to give me everything from the storage space though, before we split paths.¡± She nodded, ¡°Once you restock.¡±
Finding an herbalist outside of the capital was easy enough ¨C many more farming-oriented towns; places where those who owned and worked the farmsteads could go to for a hot, non-home-cooked meal or to spend their wages ¨C were located each of the cardinal directions away from Bhant¡¯s Holdfast. Tristan did not get the best quality supplies; those would be the herbs that were already dried out or in oil solutions, prepared for use. But, he got plenty of raw ingredients, spending twenty gold pieces to buy up effectively half of the existing stock. Don¡¯t want to take all of it, he thought. Even though I could afford it. I¡¯m not going to deprive this town of medicine for my own sake. After gathering that together, he also stopped by the blacksmith. He did not see anything akin to a blacksmithing setup at the Queen¡¯s Wood, and wanted to have all the basics to maintain his armor and weapon. A miniature anvil and smith¡¯s toolset cost him thirty gold pieces. I won¡¯t be forging anything, but this gives me more than enough for maintenance. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Making a mental checklist, he ran down everything that he thought he could need for an extended stay in the Fey Realm. I have food and water covered. Plus, the primers to work on learning new spells. I guess a cooking set with some herbs and spices so I can play around with the starberry flavor profile. The idea of having the exact same meal for a week was not very appealing. Another five gold and he had a full chef¡¯s kit with a nice, little box of spices included. And, lastly, as a bit of a treat, he also bought a few bottles of whiskey for all of his two-hundred copper coins. The cheap stuff. A gift for the fairy dragons that will be helping out. With all of the items bundled under his arms, he kept walking until sunrise through the night; putting as much distance between himself and the capital as he could. He had a specific destination in mind ¨C a small mountain range that his grandfather had taken him to. It was populated by herders who raised rams and goats in the higher elevation, but in the lowlands there were many caves. ¡°This is where you¡¯re going to go,¡± his grandfather had told him. ¡°If the kingdom is invaded and we all get separated. The caves are not connected by tunnels ¨C each is a little hideout. We¡¯ll find each other there.¡± Tristan found one such cave as night began to fall ¨C having been awake for almost two days, he was bone-tired. The cave had seen occupation recently as the ring of stones and cinders on the ground attested to. Going to the back of the cave, he found a stalagmite that he got behind, and began spinning his essence crucible. Felicity looked at him with a concerned expression, ¡°You okay? You¡¯ve been quiet since we left that last town.¡± She pulled everything out of the extradimensional storage space as she moved about in front of him, placing it into a small circle in the dirt she drew with her tail ¨C which included Tristan. Including the forgotten-until-now greatbow and quiver of arrows. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he muttered in response. She walked over to him and put a paw on his knee, ¡°You don¡¯t sound fine.¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about him right now.¡± ¡°Talking helps.¡± He looked up at her and saw those large eyes full of a desire to understand. To sympathize in some way. Tristan sighed, and spoke in a whisper. ¡°I finally got to stand up to him¡­it felt good just unloading all of my feelings. But it didn¡¯t do anything.¡± Tristan felt the slight ember of hatred still burning in his chest, almost beating along with his heart. ¡°He is still going to be praised for saving the kingdom from a dragon. He¡¯ll just replace the staff, get married, and when grandfather eventually dies¡­he¡¯ll remove me from the family.¡± Felicity harrumphed, ¡°Hmph! Who cares about the Anorox family name. You¡¯re a Winterbloom. That is far more imp-¡± ¡°It¡¯s not more important to me!¡± Tristan snapped back. ¡°I have to carry on the legacy for my grandfather. I want to carry on his name.¡± But as he said the words, he knew how hollow they sounded. And what the reality of the situation would be. Father is going to remarry, have more kids; ones that will inherit the bloodline. I¡¯m never going to inherit. He felt sadness well up in him. All of his years of work trying to overcome the stigma placed upon him by circumstances of his birth¡­wasted. Grandfather might see me as the true successor; it¡¯s why he showed me the Arch Dragon blood vial, after all. But¡­he cannot make me the heir over father. That would never work. He looked up at Felicity, and felt the few tears dripping down his cheeks that he wiped away with the back of his hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She nodded with sympathy, ¡°It is a lot. You need time.¡± She had a dour look on her face, ¡°But the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be. You aren¡¯t a half-breed Anorox dragonslayer anymore. You¡¯re a full-blooded Elf. Be the first-ever Elven dragonslayer if that¡¯s what you need to feed your ego.¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t have an ego,¡± he muttered. ¡°I want to carry on grandfather¡¯s legacy. He even told me that he wishes I was his son instead of his grandson. He doesn¡¯t want father to inherit¡­but he has no choice. I¡¯d never be accepted as the next Anorox family head.¡± ¡°The sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner you¡¯ll move on.¡± Felicity trotted over to the cave entrance. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in a week. Take care of yourself, Tristan.¡± ¡°Stay safe,¡± Tristan replied as Felicity flew off. He returned his focus to the ring before him, and kept spinning his essence crucible to channel the stream of arcane power into it. He was tired: the day of travel, recovering from the assassins, the emotional tumult he went through. The only thing he could do while waiting for the ring to activate was replay the day¡¯s events and see what he could do differently. First, no food unless I make it. Can¡¯t risk poisoning. The same goes for water. So, I guess I¡¯m making a ton of clearcool elixirs when I¡¯m in the Fey Realm. Second, I am going to sleep in the Fey Realm every night. Even if I¡¯m traveling. I don¡¯t want to risk someone killing me when I slumber. Third, preparation. I need to see what artifice is upon the essence-lantern, my ring, and the cloak. Then, study the spell primers and practice as much as I can to not only build my repertoire but also grow my essence capacity. Then, apply artifice to my new dagger and the sheath ¨C if the sheath is high enough quality. I think it is¡­but I won¡¯t know until I try. And, elixirs. Tons of them; clearcool for food and drink, healing for curing any injuries, essence for restoring my power in a pinch, and a panacea for any diseases or poisons. Maybe¡­maybe that much essence-weaving will be enough to enable me to open the second door in the vault. The ring glowed white and he vanished from the Mortal Realm, appearing the Fey Realm. Fairy dragons flew around the Queen¡¯s Wood, and bowed when they saw him. One in particular flew over to him and cleared its throat, ¡°Lord Tristan¡­you brought a rock?¡± Tristan glanced back behind himself and saw that a semi-circular chunk of the stalagmite had been brought along. ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know that some of the environment could come with me.¡± He glanced down to ensure all of the supplies were still there. ¡°Neat! And you have all of this stuff you brought.¡± Tristan stood up, ¡°Did my ancestors have anything like a smithy or a forge?¡± The fairy dragon shrugged and looked up, shouting the question to some other fairy dragons, who all swooped down and perched on the new addition to the dirt circle in front of the Queen¡¯s Wood. There was chatter back and forth before another, higher-pitched fairy dragon spoke. ¡°Yup! We have something like that.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Here¡¯s what I would like, please. Take the alchemist¡¯s kit up to the larger lab we have set up atop the tree. The same goes for the smith¡¯s toolset and the chef¡¯s kit. The whiskey is for all of you to enjoy.¡± There was a small cheer at that and several fairy dragons flew down, grabbed whiskey bottles, and began imbibing them. Tristan continued, ¡°The same goes for the miniature anvil. I want all of the primers moved up to that same treetop.¡± He heard an enormous flapping behind him, and looked to see The Matriarch landing. ¡°Ah, Lord Tristan, you return. Where is Felicity?¡± ¡°She is scouting on my behalf,¡± Tristan said. ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in in a moment. But first; I would like to get every possible crafting station we can drum up ¨C alchemy, cooking, smithing, tailoring ¨C whatever you can think of and we have supplies for. Let¡¯s get that all set up on the tree-top platforms.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°Your will be done, Lord Tristan. We will muster what we can and bring it up there.¡± ¡°I saw two more platforms as well. We¡¯ll save those for other endeavors. That platform with the Astrologer¡¯s Glass? I¡¯d like to add onto that so it acts as a study. So, any couches, bookshelves, and the like.¡± She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, ¡°Couches?¡± ¡°Something padded I can spend hours sitting on while I read these spell primers.¡± ¡°Ah, of course.¡± She smiled softly, ¡°You will be staying for a while, then?¡± ¡°As long as I can.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°As long as you fully expend your essence before sleeping. Then you do not risk essence sickness.¡± Her eyes narrowed, ¡°And as long as we do not have you stay longer than a Season. If that happens, then the sealed off portions of the Realm may stir¡­and you are not ready for that.¡± ¡°Then I plan on staying to do quite a bit of training and crafting. Oh, I don¡¯t know if you saw, but I opened the first vault.¡± The Matriarch¡¯s eyes went wide, ¡°Congratulations! What was within?¡± Tristan gestured for her to follow him, and she shouted out some orders to the surrounding fairy dragons in Elvish at a speed that Tristan was barely able to keep up with. But effectively, she was conveying his instructions about setting up the top boughs of the tree. He walked down to his chambers and grabbed the scroll from the bedside table and held it up for her. She read through it rapidly and nodded, ¡°Well, I knew that. Winterbloom were the first Elf bloodline and helped to build up the Fey Realm they emerged within. The never grow old refers to your body. You will remain at the peak of your physical form throughout your lifetime. And that lifetime can be quite long. Elven lifespan increases based upon essence capacity ¨C did I not explain that before?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°An oversight, then. It happens when millennia of learning is within one¡¯s mind. As for the rest; I do not know what is in the vaults, so that ¡°treasure that lies beyond¡± ¨C your guess would be as good as my guess. The last part about being able to rule¡­that is a tricky topic.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Tristan asked as he sat on the bed and began taking off his armor and divesting himself of his equipment. To his slight surprise, a cadre of fairy dragons flew in and began undressing him and putting his equipment on the armor stand and weapon rack, as well as stripping him down while they filled the tub. ¡°The Winterbloom are the lords and ladies of the Elves. You are the ruler of this realm ¨C along with any others of your bloodline who arrive. As such, other Elves are¡­compelled to listen to your orders. The strong willed can overcome this effect, and they will never do something that harms themselves or goes against their nature. But¡­it is akin to a permanent enchantment spell laced through your voice. Your very being.¡± Tristan nodded as he got into the tub now full of hot water, ¡°If I went to the Sapphire Coast and started ordering people around they would just do what I told them?¡± ¡°Yes. Minus the prohibitions I listed.¡± ¡°Interesting¡­right, well, I need to fill you in on everything that happened in the last few weeks¡­¡± Chapter 30: Identifying artifice and basic enchantment
The Matriarch nodded as Tristan concluded. She was silent for a few seconds before speaking, ¡°Well, Lord Tristan¡­I would have to say that based upon your descriptions, your father could very well be the source of the assassins. I am truly sorry that you had friends die.¡± Tristan dipped his head down and let out an exhausted sigh. ¡°I¡¯m tired, Matriarch. Just¡­I need some alone time.¡± She nodded and whistled a loud, trilling sound. The various fairy dragons who were flitting about ¨C fluffing the pillows, smoothing the sheets, laying out night clothes ¨C all flew out. She left the chamber, and her tail pulled the door shut behind her. Tristan sank below the still-warm water and kept his eyes shut. I¡¯m sorry, Gertrude. I¡¯m sorry¡­all of you died because they wanted me dead. Eight guards. The new maid he barely knew. Tristan knew of Marlowe¡¯s daughter and wife in their small apartment in a lower district of the city. She¡¯s going to grow up without her father, he thought. And all the servants at the manor house. Whole families he had known growing up. Gone. Tristan emerged from the water and pulled his knees up to his head, letting himself pour out his emotions as he cried for the lives of those lost.
The next morning arrived, and Tristan was woken up from his slumber by an interesting smell. Sitting up, he saw several fairy dragons who were walking quietly on the ground carrying a few plates and cups. They froze in place. ¡°Sorry, Lord Tristan!¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to wake you up.¡± ¡°Breakfast is ready!¡± ¡°We even found eggs! Not sure where they came from, but we fried them up anyways!¡± ¡°They tasted good.¡± ¡°Eggcellent, even.¡± The different voices overlapped, and Tristan couldn¡¯t help but smile at the bad pun-based joke. ¡°Right, I¡¯ll eat your mystery food.¡± They left the plates and cups on the desk nearby, and Tristan left the warm, comfy bed to partake in the repast. It was delicious, and he could not help but wonder what type of eggs he was eating. But he didn¡¯t care much. The fairy dragons had also left out clothing, and Tristan quickly swapped out to the more active wear before grabbing his armor and weapon. Ascending to the top of the Queen¡¯s Wood, he saw quite the change had been wrought overnight. The alchemy station had been pushed to the side of the platform, and a variety of workstations had been set up or brought in. An enormous, red tree had been transplanted onto the top of these spread-out boughs, and the center was hollowed out and glowed a deep, cherry red. He could feel the heat radiating from it, and the anvil he had purchased was placed in front of it on a stump. Deep, black wooden tools such as pliers were placed around the space, along with barrels and buckets. Alongside that were more mundane crafting stations: a desk with several grooves for artificed items to be placed upon which could double as an imbuing workstation, a tailoring bench with several large leaves placed nearby that made up the clothes that he was wearing, a cooking station similar to the alchemist¡¯s one with all of his gear set up, and most curiously to him a fancy set of metal tools on a low bench. Going over to inspect them, he saw that they were jeweler¡¯s tools. Did elves do jewel crafting? He thought to himself as he stood up and went over to the other currently filled platform. The Astrologer¡¯s Glass was still fixed in place on the platform, but nearby were several circular-shaped bags that were stuffed with some type of substance that felt granular but provided a comfortable seat. And the bookshelf. It was old, gnarled wood that had been carefully crafted to form a gentle oval along the top. All his spell primers and the potion manual were sitting there, awaiting his perusing. Right then. What to do first...It makes the most sense to identify the rest of the items I have. Pulling out the artifice primer, he returned to the crafting benches and set the first object down ¨C the essence-lantern. Following the instructions in the primer, and making the appropriate symbol and spell gesture, he performed the spell required to Discern Artifice. ¡°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). The device thrummed with energy and vibrated almost out of control, but settled as his essence finished its swirling and his writing-hand stilled.
Essence-Seeking Lantern Detect Essence-weaving (First) [Divination] When in the presence of essence that is directed (i.e. non-ambient) within thirty feet, the user is notified.
Moving through the next few items, Tristan repeated the Discern Artifice spell; draining his essence crucible down to the last drop before reverse-spinning it to suck in the ambient essence within the realm.
Ring of the Fey Lords/Ladies Interrealm Warp (Fifth) [Teleportation] Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. By channeling essence into the ring, the user may travel across the barrier between Realms, without creating a portal, taking themselves and anything within three feet of their location. The departure and arrival point in each Realm is the same.
Cloak of Winterbloom Thrice Command (Third) [Enchantment] After activation, the next three command words that the user says will be followed by all who can hear and understand their speech. They will attempt to follow the command words to the best of their ability for the next minute. Command words that require harm of oneself or others will be automatically ignored.
That made Tristan pause as he stopped to suck in air. That¡­okay, wow, enchantment spells are powerful. How would resisting it work? If someone, say, wanted to affect me with an enchantment spell¡­how would I resist it? He heard the loud flapping of The Matriarch as she landed on one of the open platforms and her body shifted into that of a tall, well-muscled woman with fairy dragon features. A more amazonian version of Felicity¡¯s elfanoid form. ¡°Ah, I see you are busy identifying the various items you have been gifted.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°How does resisting enchantment work?¡± The Matriarch frowned slightly, ¡°That is a tricky topic and hard to quantify. Those with weak wills or who are easily manipulated will fall victim to that spell type without much resistance. But the stronger willed a person is? The more resistant they will be.¡± ¡°How would I protect myself against something like that?¡± Tristan asked. She sighed and leaned against the table, glancing down at his papers. Despite her leaning over, she was just as tall as him still. ¡°First, you need to know what it feels like. Once you can recognize what enchantment feels like, then you can react to resist. May I use such a spell on you?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°I need to know what I¡¯m up against.¡± She turned to face him. ¡°This is a First Order spell called ¡°Command¡±, much like the Thrice Command of your Cloak of Winterbloom. However, this only allows for a single command word. Mine will be ¡°sit¡±. With me so far?¡± Tristan nodded as he focused wholly on what she was saying, putting to memory everything. Including the fairly simple spell gesture she made; index and middle finger of the dominant hand, pressed together, and placed horizontally along the lips matching the top and bottom. She held the position for a moment and turned slightly, and he could see that her lips were not touching the fingers but were very close to doing so. ¡°You will first use a spell phrase. Then, after the spell phrase, you pull the fingers away from your lips like this-¡± she moved her fingers down to her throat and held them there for a second. ¡°And you then speak the command word.¡± ¡°Can you say the spell phrase before putting essence into it?¡± She nodded. ¡°Lukekaa sanat huuliltani ja noudattakaa k?skyj?ni niin kuin parhaiten osaatte.¡± (Read the words upon my lips, and obey my orders as you are best able). She paused for a moment, ¡°I will ensure to write this down for you as well. Are you ready?¡± Tristan took a deep breath, ¡°Yes. Do it.¡± ¡°Remember, you will feel something foreign, almost pressing against your temples. To try and resist, you will need to focus on a single object to the exclusivity of everything else. Something solid is normally appropriate; such as a rock, or metal.¡± Or my armor, Tristan thought. I can visualize it protecting my mind. He nodded, ¡°Do it.¡± The Matriarch held up her hand and repeated the two-finger spell gesture, said the phrase, then moved her fingers to her throat before speaking a single word. ¡°Sit.¡± Tristan felt an enormous pressure against his temples and inside of his ears ¨C as if he was diving deep down into the lake they used to travel to in order to learn how to swim. Staring at his armor nearby, he tried to think of only the protective, metal carapace. It had saved his life a few times previously ¨C never from dragons, since he had not yet fought any real dragons. But the shell that gave him a sense of comfort was easy to envision wrapping him fully. Then, the pressure vanished, and he let out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he was holding. ¡°That¡­felt weird.¡± ¡°You are still standing,¡± The Matriarch said with a faint smile. ¡°That is good. Now that you have felt it, you will know when it is happening and how to resist it. But be aware, higher Order enchantment spells are far harder to resist, and will act much more quickly.¡± She turned to the alchemy station and waved her hand over the artificed item, heating the top. ¡°I will assist you in your preparation of these various potions, leaving the essence-infusion of proper imbuement to you ¨C so that you may improve upon your essence capacity.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°The recipe book-¡± ¡°I read all of those books last night,¡± she said haughtily as she looked back at him with her lips drawn into a very slight grin. ¡°I was curious. I can perform the same spell types as Felicity, so the ice elementalism was not very useful. But I am very well-versed in essence-weaving in general.¡± Tristan returned to his task as he responded with a question, ¡°How did you learn essence-weaving?¡± ¡°From your ancestor. The First Fey Lady.¡± ¡°What was her name?¡± ¡°Zeltana,¡± The Matriarch replied. ¡°The first of the Winterbloom bloodline. The first Elf to emerge from the primordial Queen¡¯s Wood when the Fey Realm first came into being. She was one of the most powerful Archons that Elvenkind ever saw.¡± ¡°What happened to her?¡± ¡°She died,¡± The Matriarch muttered as she began grinding herbs down into a paste. Tristan turned back to the bench and pondered what The Matriarch had said. I could still have a distant ancestor alive out there. That¡­is kind of reassuring. I could have a ton of family out there. Well, relatives. Not really family. The only one I really have left is grandfather. He sighed and stood up. ¡°Well, I am going to read those spell primers.¡± The only spell types I don¡¯t have primers for but can still access are dragonbane, which just has the one spell that scales with my essence capacity according to grandfather, and fortune. He walked over to The Matriarch, ¡°Who could teach me fortune spells?¡± ¡°None of my children,¡± she replied as she continued grinding away with the mortar and pestle. ¡°All fairy dragons may only use illusion, flora, and enchantment. Plus, our innate spell-like ability to shape change and turn invisible.¡± ¡°Felicity said she could use a little transmutation as well.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°Sometimes my children develop an extra spell type. But none have manifested fortune thus far. To learn that spell type, you will need one of those books from the Mortal Realm¡­or find a teacher.¡± ¡°Thank you for helping with the potion-making, by the way.¡± ¡°Oh, it is not a problem at all. Flying around the Fey Realm on my patrol leaves me quite physically tired, and letting my wings rest is a nice break. Plus, I can get some of these lazy children of mine to help out.¡± She said that last bit with her a glance up to the highest boughs above the two, and Tristan glanced up to see dozens of fairy dragons looking down at the two and eating starberries. ¡°Oh, right!¡± ¡°Coming, mom!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to mush berries!¡± ¡°Hey, at least you don¡¯t have to carry buckets of clearcool up and down!¡± Tristan chuckled and moved to the study area as fairy dragons swarmed around The Matriarch and began helping her with the herb processing, or flying off into different directions to get ingredients from around the Fey Realm. Which spell primer first? Chapter 31: Flinging frost in flurries
Tristan sat down and grabbed the primer on ice elementalism. It was written in the Standard Tongue, and was an easy read. He flipped past the author¡¯s introduction and went right to the basic information that preceded the different Order-ranked spells.
Welcome to your primer on ice elementalism. As with all ¡®basic¡¯ spell primers for elementalism, there are a few items to take note of before we can begin to delve into the wonderful frost that is ice elementalism. First, a general run-down. Elementalism entails controlling the elements of creation. There are many that exist, but the primary categories are listed below. There are, of course, rarer types of elementalism. Examples include sound, metal, lava, and the focus of this primer, ice. Now, all elementalism is used in one of three categories of spells. Offense, Defense, or Control. All categories of elementalism spells come with backlash, which is a portion of the spell¡¯s energy that affects the user. Think of it as a sort of universal limiter that the laws of reality impose upon us essence-weavers; we cannot go throwing around spheres of lightning over and over without risking catastrophe. Each category is listed below, along with some sample effects, and the backlash that accompanies it. Whilst the backlash listed below are specific to ice elementalism (since that¡¯s the primer you¡¯re reading!) you can imagine similar effects (or, go purchase my other primers!).
  1. Offense
    • Sample Effects: flinging shards of ice at a foe, encrusting an opponent¡¯s body to reduce movement.
    • Backlash: your internal temperature will lower drastically; to the point that you risk hypothermia.
  2. Defense
    • Sample Effects: defensive walls of ice, shields of ice
    • Backlash: your body will become encrusted in ice, hampering and hindering movement. This also will be quite cold and could contribute to hypothermia.
  3. Control
    • Sample Effects: manipulating existing ice, melting ice, turning water into ice.
    • Backlash: dehydration. Drink plenty of water!
Ice elementalism is very combat oriented, consisting of a variety of spells ¨C from protective walls and shields of ice to projectiles of sharpened ice, to encrusting foes with the freezing substance to hinder or fully stop movement. This spell type costs more essence in dry, hot, or arid conditions, and less essence if in damp, wet, or cold conditions. Keep this in mind. You would not, for instance, be able to use a First Order amount of essence in a desert. You would need to use essence equivalent to a Second or even Third Order spell to overcome the shifting essence cost. Lastly, you will notice that these spells are written in Dragon¡¯s Tongue. This is due to the Drakonid heritage¡¯s ties to the Elemental Realms; those who are most closely tied to these elementalism spell types. Other languages can be used to enact the effects ¨C but they often ¡®misfire¡¯ in some way. This has stumped scholars for centuries. And, the phrasing is different. Just learn some Dragon¡¯s Tongue if you¡¯re serious about being an elementalism user! Lastly, this primer contains one Offense, Defense, and Control spell for First Order through Third Order. As with all primers.
Tristan paused and looked up at the boughs of the trees. The offensive backlash won¡¯t affect me since I¡¯m cold-proof thanks to being Winterblood. Defense backlash¡­no cold to worry about, but the ice encrusting my armor would be a hindrance up close. He flipped open to the First Order spells.
Frost Flurry (First) Spell Phrase: ¡°Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen.¡± (I summon forth the fury of ice and frost: form shards that will pierce and slash my target). Spell Gesture: Hold your hand out in front of you, with the fingers all pressed together, and the thumb tucked on top, with the tip of the finger on the side of the knuckle of the index finger. Stand with your body bladed towards the target, and ensure that your eye sees down your arm to the point where you cannot see the fingers beyond the slightly-raised thumb (closing the opposite eye helps!). Ensure that the ¡®bump¡¯ of the raised thumb is level with your target. Spin your essence crucible, and push the essence into your fingertips ¨C not the thumb. Other Notes: The effective range of the spell is one-hundred feet before the projectiles begin to arc downward. If you memorize the speed and angle, you could bypass the normal distance limitation.
Tristan stood up and looked around for something he could target. Walking to the edge of the platform, he spotted a slight bulge of a branch about twenty feet below himself. First, blade my stance. He pivoted his feet and put his right arm up at shoulder height. And now the fingers. Lining them up was simple enough, and he ensured he placed the thumb on the edge of his knuckle. This is going to be tricky in gauntlets, he thought. I¡¯ll have to test out its flexibility with this. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Closing his left eye, he lined up his right eye with the top of his thumb, and then pivoted from the hips so that his arm remained straight-aligned with his eye. He put the bulge in the branch right above the slight arch of the thumb. Now, spin the essence crucible. He spun it slowly, feeling the cool essence fill him up with a refreshing burst of energy. Focusing it into his fingertips, he saw a small cascade of icy mist exude from his hand. ¡°Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen.¡± A spear of ice formed in front of his palm alongside the fingers. He could feel the essence draining from his crucible and into the projectile, and he kept spinning his crucible faster and faster as he tried to push out as much essence as he could. The icicle kept growing and growing until it was the size of a horse¡¯s torso. Letting the essence cease, the projectile rocketed forth faster than an arrow could fly. It pierced into the bulge of the tree ¨C embedding itself partway in before remaining lodged there. Tristan fell to his knees and felt the book fumble out of his left hand as it landed on the floor next to him. He was sucking in air, and closed his eyes; visualizing his essence crucible as best he could. It was not vibrant and full of energy, but quite¡­dull. Spin it in reverse. He focused on that reversal, and saw the motes of crystalline, icy-blue energy begin to gather as he sucked in the ambient essence of the Fey Realm. Within seconds he was full up, and grabbed the primer. Standing to his full height, he looked at the still-frozen and now slightly-slick icicle below. Now to test this out a bit. Raising his hand once more in the bladed stance, he repeated the spell. But, Tristan stopped pushing essence into it when the icicle became the size of a small knife. Loosing it at the back of the other icicle, he saw it impact and embed itself deeply with a resounding crack. And let¡¯s try different sizes to gauge the essence cost. Over the next several minutes he generated icicles of varying sizes. And fairy dragons began to gather around him. Tristan stopped after practicing the spell with different intensities for five minutes straight ¨C only taking breaks to suck in more of the ambient essence to refill his reservoir. Once he lowered his arm, fairy dragons began flying down to investigate the icicle¡­and licking it. ¡°So cold!¡± ¡°Refreshing.¡± ¡°Oooh! What if we shaved off pieces with our paw-claws?¡± ¡°Then flavored it with Starberry jam!¡± The fairy dragons began dislodging the enormous icicle and flew it down and away towards the surrounding forest. Tristan shook his head and chuckled slightly. ¡°Interesting spell,¡± The Matriarch said as she came up next to Tristan. ¡°Ice elementalism is potent for combat. Especially in your hands, since your bloodline enjoys the privilege if ignoring most of the backlash.¡± She glanced at the spell primer, ¡°You do not have to use Dragon¡¯s Tongue for ice elementalism as a Winterbloom. You can use Elvish without the chance of misfire, if you elected to. Shall I write down the spell phrase?¡± ¡°I am good with just Dragon¡¯s Tongue for elementalism.¡± Tristan looked at her and couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°I¡¯m starting to feel like a real mage. And I can see, now, how essence-weavers could use spells in combat. The spell phrases are relatively short, and the gesture was extremely simple.¡± ¡°You will find that to be true of most combat-oriented spells,¡± she replied. ¡°So¡­how does it feel coming into your own?¡± Tristan looked at his right hand and flexed it. ¡°I feel¡­good. This feels right. I¡¯ve always wondered what using essence-weaving would be like¡­and now I¡¯m the third essence-weaver in my famil-¡± he stopped mid-sentence. ¡°My Human family,¡± he muttered. Looking over at her, he frowned slightly. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m still getting used to embracing my identity as a Winterbloom, and not as an Anorox.¡± The Matriarch put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, ¡°You are a lord of the Fey. You should embrace that. But, I understand it will be an emotional and mental process extricating your identity from that of your Human side.¡± ¡°I want to see my grandfather,¡± Tristan said as he met her gaze. ¡°I will always be his grandson, and unless he disowns me I¡¯ll always be an Anorox¡­but I need to be what I am. I¡¯m a Winterbloom Elf.¡± He looked out over the enormous forest. And, he thought, I¡¯m going to claim whatever my birthright is in that vault. I should practice this spell more and get used to the range, the drop-off, and how to arc it. Plus, if the larger version for more essence has a more significant drop-off. Glancing at The Matriarch, he noticed her intense gaze on him. It did not make him uncomfortable¡­but it felt as if she was evaluating him. ¡°Do we have something like a training grounds? With practice dummies and the like?¡± The Matriarch nodded and pointed down to a small gap in the surrounding forest to the West of the Queen¡¯s Wood. ¡°There is a clearing there that is where your ancestors used to train for combat.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Shall I give you a ride down? It is far faster than walking.¡± Tristan felt a giddy excitement in his chest and nodded enthusiastically, ¡°That would be great. Oh, wait a second.¡± He ran across the platform to his armor and sword, gearing up as quickly as he could. ¡°Just a minute!¡± ¡°Take your time. We are in no rush.¡± Tristan got his gear on, strapped his sword to his hip, and shoved the primer into the small satchel that hung off the belt. ¡°If I¡¯m going to a training field, I want to practice using swordplay and this offensive spell at the same time.¡± The Matriarch¡¯s body shifted, and she transformed into her full fairy-dragon form that was the size of a cottage. Smaller than most Elemental Realm dragons, but Tristan could almost feel the air humming with magical potential ¨C more so than just the latent Realm¡¯s essence imbuing the atmosphere. He could see the characteristic shimmer in the air of an essence-weaving effect being manifested. She reached out her claw, it warped into a hand, and she lifted him up before launching herself over the ledge. Tristan let out a whoop of excitement and exhilaration as she flew down at a steep, steep angle. The rush through his hair, the air streaking past him, and the trembling in his stomach made him giddy. ¡°This is amazing!¡± he shouted out. The Matriarch pulled out of her dive and into a smooth transition to a glide to the clearing. All around Tristan and her, more fairy dragons flew alongside; almost as if an aerial escort. Or the oddest bird migration one could imagine. Tristan just reveled in the experience that he knew in his heart very few had experienced. When Felicity gets bigger, we could do this to travel so much faster! Chapter 32: Blending spells with combat
The clearing that The Matriarch set down on was easily two-hundred feet across in all directions ¨C a massive circle of soft, green grass that twitched slightly as tiny insects hopped around. She set Tristan down and he found the footing beneath to be surprisingly firm considering the grassy terrain. Fairy dragons began flying to the edges of the clearing and working in tandem to move a variety of cross-shaped beams into the training field, planting them in the ground. The Matriarch shifted to her elfanoid form and gestured widely at the whole space. ¡°This is the training grounds of your forebears. The wooden targets are regenerative. And, if you seek to practice against a foe that is actively attacking you we have plenty of Adamant Wood weapons and armor that my children can outfit themselves with.¡± As she spoke, four fairy dragons flew out from the forest line, shifting into elfanoid forms that were a little shorter than Tristan. Teenage-sized. More fairy dragons flew after them and with much chatter, several comments regarding how well ¡®endowed¡¯ they were with their physique, and plenty of insults levied both ways ¨C the group of four elfanoid fairy dragons were equipped with the armor and weapons. Tristan nodded, ¡°Good to know. Thank you. Do you have a spare practice sword? I don¡¯t want to risk hurting anyone.¡± A pair of fairy dragons flitted away to the edge of the clearing, vanishing into the trees before returning with four different Adamant Wood weapons ¨C a two-handed maul, a two-handed sword, a one-handed sword, and a one-handed hammer. They set the weapons on the ground before flying over to some of the branches, lounging from the boughs with their dozens of siblings as they ate starberries and watched the field. Tristan looked over the various weapons. ¡°I¡¯m most familiar with a sword,¡± he muttered as he reached down and grabbed the one-handed blade. The hilt was shorter than that of his family weapon ¨C because his had the space for two hands to increase cutting power. And this blade was shorter. But, if I¡¯m going to be doing spell gestures mid-combat, I need to keep a hand free. He looked at the four fairy dragons dressed up in equipment, and they were chatting with each other idly. The Matriarch tapped Tristan¡¯s shoulder, ¡°If you plan on sparring with magic involved, be careful. My children are sturdy but they can perish. Especially with such an unrelenting spell type as ice elementalism.¡± ¡°I wanted to train on distance and drop-off a bit,¡± Tristan replied as he walked to the far edge of the clearing. The Matriarch and the four fairy dragons followed him. ¡°I have a Greatbow back with my gear. And a quiver of arrows. But I think that being able to fight with a sword and then swap to fire at a distant target is going to be beneficial.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± The Matriarch replied. ¡°If you are well-settled here, I will return to preparing your various potions for eventual imbuement.¡± Tristan nodded, she bowed, and she shifted to her full fairy-dragon form once more before lifting off with mighty flaps of her wings that bent the grass downward and threatened to bowl Tristan over from the force of the air. He turned to the four fairy dragons dressed up in armor. ¡°I¡¯m bored.¡± ¡°Can we start hitting each other?¡± ¡°As long as no nut-shots are allowed!¡± ¡°That¡¯s one of the best ways to win though! Fight dirty.¡± Tristan shook his head and chuckled. ¡°What I¡¯d like to do is practice a few Frost Flurries at the more distant targets, and when I¡¯ve got a gauge for the arc of the projectile, practice fighting one of you while also shooting projectiles.¡± He looked between the four of them. ¡°One of you will fight with me, the others are going to grab some of those targets and run around with them. Varying ranges.¡± The fairy dragons all saluted and then immediately circled up, bickered for a few seconds, and then picked some grass and drew straws for who would have to run the targets back and forth. With that decided, one of the older-looking ones who came up to just under Tristan¡¯s height squared up to him. ¡°Give me a moment to test range, first,¡± Tristan said as he turned to the field. Raising his left hand ¨C wanting to get used to using his off-hand to fire the projectiles ¨C he put his fingers together, thumb on top of the knuckle, and spun his essence crucible. Pushing the essence into his fingertips, he took aim at a tree on the far side of the clearing. Okay. One-hundred feet before the falloff. And that full distance from here to there is two-hundred feet. ¡°Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen.¡± (I summon forth the fury of ice and frost: form shards that will pierce and slash my target). He poured as much essence as he could into the spell, spinning his crucible as fast as he could to do it quickly. The tiny bead of ice grew to an enormous icicle within seconds, and he launched it forth. After flying out the one-hundred foot distance, it began to arc downward before grinding into the ground. Tristan was shaking from exhaustion and reverse-spun his crucible to suck in the ambient essence of the Fey Realm. Right. Now to do some of varying sizes, and then see if there is a difference in falloff distance based on size. He raised his hand and repeated the spell a few times creating different sized icicles. Then, he called out to the fairy dragons scattered across the field, ¡°What¡¯s the dropoff like?¡± One of the armored fairy dragons unfurled his wings from small slats in the back of his Adamant Wood armor and fluttered over to the impact points. ¡°They¡¯re all equal!¡± Projectile drop-off isn¡¯t affected by the size of the projectile. Good. ¡°Okay, how far did they go past the hundred-foot mark?¡± ¡°What?¡± Tristan sighed, ¡°Go to where it started to curve downward, and tell me how much farther it went before hitting the ground.¡± The fairy dragon nodded and began pacing out from the top of the projectile¡¯s line of fire to where it descended and ultimately impacted. ¡°Looks like a couple of feet! Like, ten!¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Tristan closed his eyes and imagined the arc of an arrow. Way shorter than an arrow¡¯s flight. Maybe a quarter-draw from the bow I had to practice with. Which means if I angle this just right, I can find the maximum range. He nodded, ¡°Clear off the center!¡± The fairy dragon did so, and Tristan aimed his hand up into the sky at the perfect launch angle for a maximum-range bow-shot. Spinning his essence crucible once more, he fired off a fist-sized icicle, watching the projectile sail upward before gently arcing and flying to the edge of the tree-line. Seems like the maximum with the perfect arc is two-hundred feet. Double the base distance. An archer would outrange me¡­but perfectly straight projectiles within one-hundred feet is still a really valuable surprise maneuver. Reverse-spinning his essence crucible he looked at the fairy dragon who was leaning on his sword and picking his ear with a hand. ¡°Ready to fight?¡± Tristan asked. The fairy dragon quickly flicked his finger away from him, gripped the wooden practice sword, and raised it. ¡°Ready whenever!¡± Tristan glanced down the field. ¡°Start running across with the targets!¡± The other fairy dragons did so, and he turned back to the combatant in front of him. ¡°I want you to come at me like you¡¯re trying to kill me.¡± The fairy dragon frowned a little, ¡°The Matriarch said we should never really hurt you.¡± ¡°I believe I outrank her,¡± Tristan said with a smile. ¡°Do as I say¡­and please come at me like you¡¯re trying to kill me.¡± The fairy dragon nodded and rushed forward, unleashing an overhead chop that was vicious and almost wild. In fact, it was such an amateur swing that Tristan just stepped forward, met the blade with his own, and deflected it down to the side ¨C putting his foot out and kicking the fairy dragon on the rump; sending the smaller person sprawling into the grass. As they recovered, Tristan raised his offhand and aimed at the closest of the moving target dummies. ¡°Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf-¡± He was only partway through saying the spell phrase when he had to focus once more on the threat in front of him. He once more parried a wild strike ¨C this one horizontal that he deflected upward, and he pushed forward as he swept the legs with his heel. The fairy dragon went down. Can I just finish the phrase or do I have to start over? I mean, this is training. I¡¯ll just finish the phrase. ¡°-Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen.¡± The shard of ice manifested in his palm, and he could only push enough essence into it at his current crucible-spin speed to create a finger-sized projectile. He willed it to release, and it rocketed forward, hitting the target just to the left of where he was aiming. It doesn¡¯t home in on the target, so when they¡¯re moving I have to lead it. Once more he had to turn to face a simple attack. Instead of parrying and pushing his foe off balance, Tristan simply engaged in a series of blocks. This isn¡¯t really a challenge. Not like those mercenaries I fought. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be rude¡­but do you have any more skilled fighters?¡± The fairy dragon frowned and pulled back, huffing and taking deep breaths. ¡°I¡¯m a good fighter!¡± Tristan rolled his eyes, ¡°Sure you are. Look; you¡¯re outmatched here. I need someone who can keep up with me.¡± He heard the enormous flapping once more, and looking back saw The Matriarch had returned. She unshifted, walked over to the smaller fairy dragon in elfanoid form, and pushed him to the edge of the clearing. ¡°Go on. Lord Tristan needs a stronger opponent.¡± The smaller fairy dragon nodded, handed his gear over to her, and then reverted to his small, fox-like form, shouting ¡°Beat him up, mom!¡± as he left. The Matriarch chuckled, ¡°I apologize, Lord Tristan. My children are not trained combatants. Is that something you wish to alter? I can put together a training program.¡± ¡°If you think it is valuable,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I trust you to rule the Fey Realm as you have been for however long you have been. You know better than I how it should operate.¡± She smiled gently, ¡°That is thoughtful. Now¡­you wished for a combatant who pushes you to your limits?¡± she put on the armor, helmet, and picked up the practice sword. It was almost dainty in her hands, and she held up a finger. ¡°One moment.¡± She walked over to the area where the various weapons had been placed, and picked up the two-handed maul. It looked like a one-handed weapon in her grip ¨C that was just how large she was. Taking up a combat stance, the soft smile turned to a taut expression. ¡°Ready?¡± Tristan nodded and twirled the one-handed blade in his grip. ¡°Ready.¡± She rushed forward and swung the enormous hammer horizontally. Tristan knew he could not parry and would have to deflect or dodge. Jumping back, he began spinning his essence crucible and pushing the essence into his left hand. In between The Matriarch¡¯s swings, he spoke each word of the spell phrase, little by little. ¡°Ich beschw?re die,¡± he dodged to the side as a massive, overhand swing went thud into the ground. ¡°Wut von Eis und,¡± he stepped into her guard and stabbed forward to her midsection. She brought the shaft of the hammer up to deflect his strike, and then brought the head of the maul in a small, tight circle which crushed into his chest and flung him backward onto his butt. He groaned, but made sure even as he air escaped his lungs, he spoke the next lines. ¡°Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter.¡± The Matriarch ran up and swung down at him, and he had to roll out of the way before scrambling to his feet and raising his sword. She came in again and choked up her grip on the hammer¡¯s shaft to enable faster swings with the heavy head. Tristan was pushed to the limits of his capabilities when it came to deflecting, feeling the reverberating impacts shake his arm with each successful deflection. Then, and idea struck him. On her next swing, he intentionally let loose the grip of his weapon so that the expected resistance she would have anticipated was not there, and it made her swing slightly beyond what she anticipated, bringing her just a little off balance. Tristan leaped forward towards her, getting right alongside her and pinning the shaft of the hammer between their torsos. ¡°-die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen!¡± The icicle formed in his hand, and he pressed it against her stomach. ¡°I win,¡± he growled out. She glanced down and let out a slight laugh that was¡­enchanting was the only way Tristan could describe it. ¡°Excellent show. Surrendering your weapon to get in close and relying on a ranged spell to inflict damage up close; which would catch an essence-weaver off guard, much less a normal combatant.¡± She tapped his shoulder, ¡°I yield ¨C but you should still try and hit one of my children with their targets.¡± Tristan pulled himself back from her and took aim at the farthest target at the far side of the clearing. Angling his arm up, and glancing to make sure he was leading the target, he let loose and the icicle went rocketing upward before beginning its descent. ¡°Oh! So close,¡± The Matriarch said as the icicle embedded right in front of the dummy being carried by the fairy dragon. Tristan clicked his tongue as he leaned down to pick up the practice blade. ¡°I need to practice more.¡± She smiled, ¡°Further rounds, Lord Tristan?¡± He nodded and gestured for the hammer, ¡°I want to try something. It seems like the best way to reliably blend essence-weaving with martial prowess is to use large weapons to buy space and time to say the spell phrase.¡± The Matriarch nodded and handed the maul to him, ¡°That is the way of your ancestors. Blending spells with weapons. The first Fey Lady, Zeltana, fought with a massive hammer that came from the Queen¡¯s Wood. An enormous, mighty maul that was quite unique in that, in her hands, was terrifying to behold.¡± Tristan nodded as he hefted the weapon, ¡°This won¡¯t be super useful against dragons ¨C you need blades to get in between the scales or into vital spots. But against people?¡± He flipped the weapon in his hands a few times to get used to the weight. ¡°Yes, I could see how it is valuable.¡± The Matriarch went over to the two-handed sword and lifted it. ¡°Shall we give this a go, then?¡± Tristan nodded and lifted the maul, ¡°I need to hone my use of this offensive spell.¡± ¡°On guard!¡± The Matriarch rushed forward. Chapter 33: Hefting mauls and ice walls
The Matriarch¡¯s assault was fast and relentless. Tristan was immediately pushed on the defensive as he had to intercept the intense flurry of strikes with the shaft and pommel of the maul. It was well-balanced but still top-heavy, which he had expected. But this type of weapon was not suited to a fast, single opponent who was relatively unarmored. It was much better against slower, heavily armored foes. Tristan was able to get enough distance to make use of the weapon, taking large, wide swings that kept The Matriarch at bay while he spun his essence crucible. The swirling, silvery and icy-blue energy filled him up and he pushed the flow down to his right hand. I¡¯m going to have to say the spell phrase, then take my hand off the maul for as long as it takes to launch the icicle. The Matriarch didn¡¯t even give him a second to speak as she got inside his reach and rained down several harsh thwacks against him that were so impactful they dented his armor. He grunted in pain as he dropped the maul and jumped backward as he drew his long, thin blade with extreme speed. The essence that was swirling in his right hand shot into the blade, and it elongated as the silvery-icy-blue clouds cascaded from it. The Matriarch pulled back and frowned, ¡°Lord Tristan, I do not wish to fight you with you wielding a lethal weapon.¡± Tristan glanced down and grimaced, ¡°Sorry. Instinct.¡± He let the essence flow fade and the blade reverted. He sheathed it, took off the belt, and put the weapon on the ground. ¡°Go a little easier on me, okay? I¡¯m not skilled with a maul.¡± He bent over and grabbed up the enormous hammer. The Matriarch tossed the practice sword to the side and glanced to the trees nearby, ¡°Children, your mother requires another training dummy.¡± She gestured to the trio still running in the field, ¡°And tell them to take a breather.¡± A few fairy dragons flew off to the ones in the field who were carrying the training dummies back and forth across the space, and they scattered to the outskirts of the clearing before shifting into their animal-dragon shapes and flying over to the trees nearby. At the same time, two fairy dragons flew over with a training dummy and buried it into the ground. Tristan glance at it as he hefted the maul, ¡°I don¡¯t think a practice target is a good starting point, Matriarch.¡± She chuckled and shook her head, ¡°I saw how you wielded it. Like a quarterstaff. Too much focus on holding the center of the shaft.¡± She took it from his hands and showed him a proper grip ¨C with his topmost hand at the center of the shaft, and her other hand near the base. ¡°The way you swing it is that you begin the swing with your leading hand, but then pull it back to the base of the shaft to ensure the most powerful rotation you can muster. Observe.¡± He stepped away as she took up a ready stance in front of the dummy. Pulling the weapon back so that it was upright alongside her shoulder, she slowly demonstrated the strike and technique. Pulling the hammer down and around, she transitioned her center-shaft grip to the base, letting the weight of the maul¡¯s head increase the force of the blow as it hit the wooden target with a resounding thud. ¡°And now, at full speed.¡± She pulled it back, and repeated the move once more. Tristan was able to follow it, but the force it imparted on impact was jarring ¨C completely uprooting the target dummy and sending it flying a few feet. She gestured and the two fairy dragons who had set up the dummy repositioned it. ¡°Now, the maul requires very specific knowledge of range and reach. If, for instance, my swing is too close-¡± she swung again, and this time stepped forward as she struck, which caused the shaft of the weapon to hit the dummy and deal almost no real harm. ¡°-You lose quite a bit of power. And if you are too far away-¡± once more she pulled back and swung, but she took a step back as the hammer head came around, and it just missed the front of the dummy. But, he saw her swing had taken her a little bit off balance ¨C just as it had when he had allowed her to knock the practice sword out of his hand. ¡°-Like that, you will just miss entirely.¡± Tristan nodded as she handed it to him. ¡°There is a lot to learn about a simple hammer.¡± She smiled gently and patted him on the shoulder, ¡°Yes, there is a lot to learn. But you have a very, very long life ahead of you. Now, start swinging, and I¡¯ll give you feedback on your strikes.¡± Tristan nodded and spent the next few hours drilling relentlessly with the weapon. The Matriarch was a fount of knowledge about the use of the weapon, and once he had grown familiar with the range of the maul, she began teaching him various weapon swing combinations. By the end of the day he was covered in sweat and shaking from the exertion¡­but he was happy. For the first time in a long time, he was really, truly happy. Planting the hammer next to himself, he wiped away the sweat and let out a small laugh. ¡°I was going to spend today focusing on essence-weaving¡­but this has been useful. Thank you, Matriarch.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. She dipped her head, ¡°Of course, Lord Tristan. Well, the potions have all been prepared and await your imbuement spells.¡± ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I have three things I want to do tonight before heading back.¡± He grabbed his sword and re-equipped it. ¡°First¡­have some of your children carry targets back and forth. Small ones ¨C even flying ones ¨C are fine. I just want to practice Frost Flurry until I get used to the travel speed to hit moving targets.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The Matriarch looked up to the branches where there was a group of fairy dragons who had been lounging about all day, watching Tristan¡¯s training. ¡°Come on, boys and girls. You heard Lord Tristan.¡± She looked at him as the fairy dragons went to grab some targets. ¡°Do you require my assistance further this evening?¡± Tristan nodded and fished around in his hip pouch for the spell primer on ice elementalism. ¡°You said you read this already, but I want to practice the other two First Order spells. Could you refresh yourself to teach me the Defense and Control oriented spells?¡± She nodded and went over to the edge of the clearing; sitting down on a fallen log that had been grown over with moss, she flipped open the primer and began re-reading it. Tristan looked out to the fairy dragons and spun his essence crucible, feeling the energy cascade through his body and soothe the warmth of physical exertion away. He repeated the spell phrase and gesture for Frost Flurry several times over; using the smallest amount of essence possible since he knew the speed and range drop-off was not affected by the size of the projectile. He began dialing in the correct angle and how much to lead each target. Barking out instructions for varying speed and patterns, he challenged himself over the next hour as he drained and refilled his essence crucible. Eventually, as the five moons began to crest above the trees, he stopped his training. That is good progress for one day, he thought. This is something I should practice every day. In fact, I should establish a routine while I¡¯m here. Martial training in the morning, perhaps. Spell training after. End out the day with some artifice or imbuement, and the evening read the spell primers to add to my repertoire. Thinking of that¡­ He looked over to The Matriarch who had set the spell primer aside and was watching with a mildly bored expression. Walking over to her he nodded, ¡°Ready?¡± She stood up and handed the primer back to him, which he tucked back into his hip pouch. ¡°The First Order Defense spell is called Frost Wall. The spell phrase is ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). ¡°Seems fairly short.¡± ¡°It is. Elementalism spells tend to be complex in the Control category, middling complexity in the Offense category, and trivial in the Defense category.¡± She held up a finger, ¡°Do not forget that there is a backlash effect of crusting yourself with ice.¡± ¡°And the gesture?¡± She knelt and placed her fist on the ground. Her thumb was curled inside the other fingers ¨C which, if done during a punch, would break that finger. ¡°You place it on the surface you want the wall to emerge from. It will come out perpendicular to that surface. So, if you put your fist on a wall, it would emerge horizontally.¡± Tristan nodded and spun his essence crucible. He put his fist on the ground, curling his thumb inside the other fingers, and felt the cool energy spread through his body. ¡°Where should I direct the essence?¡± ¡°All elementalism originates in the hands.¡± Tristan nodded and pushed the essence through his channels ¨C which, he noted, were far more readily accepting of the increased flow. Must have grown over the day, he thought. Stretched from my constant use. He took a deep breath and uttered the spell phrase. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). Just in front of where his fist was planted, a wall began to grow. It was slow, and The Matriarch commented, ¡°If you want it to grow faster, you must spin your crucible faster and push more essence into it.¡± Tristan nodded and did so, and the whole wall manifested before him. Ten feet tall, and as he got up and walked around the side, he could tell it was a foot thick. Width wise, it was the same size as the height. ¡°A giant square,¡± he commented. ¡°The ice is thick and can take several heavy hits.¡± To emphasize this, she grabbed the maul from the ground and swung it with the full strength she could muster, and where the hammer head hit, cracks began to spiderweb out. But Tristan looked at the other side and could not see any damage. ¡°Quite a few hits,¡± Tristan commented. ¡°Very neat.¡± He felt the drain on his essence from casting the spell, and knew that he could only do four of these walls before draining himself. The Matriarch set the maul down. ¡°And the last of the ice elementalism, First Order spells from this primer is simply Melt Ice. Freezing water is higher Order, and changing the ice¡¯s properties is even higher Order.¡± She put both of her hands at her midsection, and bent her fingers so that each was like a small crook. She interlaced them so that, from the front, Tristan saw a small lattice. ¡°This is the spell gesture. And you must stand within ten feet, facing the object.¡± Tristan repeated the spell gesture and stood in front of the wall, ¡°And the phrase?¡± ¡°This is the most complex. Repeat after me. Ahem.¡± She began speaking, and Tristan spoke right after her as she paused between words in the lengthy spell phrase. ¡°Ich befehle dir, Frost und Eis vor mir, meinem Befehl zu gehorchen. Schmelzt in meiner Gegenwart und werdet wieder fl¨¹ssig.¡± (I order you, frost and ice before me, to obey my command. Melt in my presence, and become liquid once more). The wall of ice immediately turned to water and splashed down into the grassy ground below. Tristan felt winded and lowered his hands as he sucked in lungful of air. ¡°That¡­is¡­amazing!¡± The Matriarch smiled, ¡°It has been many, many millennia since I have seen ice elementalism used in this Realm. It pleases me.¡± She looked at him, ¡°Come, let us return to the Queen¡¯s Wood. You must eat, and rest.¡± Chapter 34: Meditating, essence crucibles, and imbuing elixirs
Tristan got back to the Queen¡¯s Wood on foot, being handed cups of clearcool and clay plates of starberries by fairy dragons as he ate and drank his fill. He also spun his essence crucible in reverse, sucking in the Realm¡¯s ambient power to refill his essence crucible. The Matriarch glanced sideways at him as they reached the base of the enormous tree, ¡°Tell me, if you would¡­what does your essence crucible look like?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Tristan replied as he finished chewing on a starberry, savoring the delicious, gooey texture as the slightly less ripe one had some tartness to it. ¡°When you enter your inner world, what does it look like?¡± Tristan gulped down his bite, ¡°I can visualize it, if that¡¯s what you mean. I can close my eyes and imagine it.¡± She frowned and shook her head, ¡°Not what I meant. Let us go to the top boughs.¡± She went behind him, grabbed him around the chest, and her wings manifested from her back as she rocketed skyward. Tristan felt that giddy feeling in his chest and felt the fluttering in his stomach from the rapid ascent, and within moments they were standing atop the canopy near the study. She gestured to the four cushioned seats, and Tristan sat in one as she sat on the other side. A bunch of fairy dragons clamored for the remaining two seats ¨C shoving each other out of them or squeezing onto them as best they could. The Matriarch cleared her throat, and they quieted down. ¡°When an essence crucible forms, it does not just create a spherical part-here-part-ethereal object in your torso. It creates an entire miniature world inside of that crucible. An inner world, as it is called.¡± ¡°So, when I close my eyes and visualize the crucible, I¡¯m just visualizing the outside?¡± She nodded, ¡°That is correct. Now, I¡¯m going to walk you through a meditative exercise. But before we do, this type of meditation can have side effects. First, whilst you are in this inner world, this mental mindscape, your senses are dulled here in reality. Someone could lightly push you, and you would not notice. A hard pinch, however? You would notice.¡± She raised two fingers, ¡°Second, while you are in this inner realm, you may feel awake, alert, and refreshed ¨C but your physical body is not actually resting.¡± ¡°I just can¡¯t spend too long doing this,¡± Tristan stated. When The Matriarch nodded in confirmation, he continued, ¡°And how will I be able to tell time?¡± ¡°It takes time and training. In your case, since you can always have one of my children along with you for your travels, you can skip that part of training. Instead, just tell them a duration, and have them pinch you out of it.¡± She raised a third finger to join the other two, ¡°Third, this type of meditation will allow you to slowly, and I do mean slowly, grow your essence capacity.¡± ¡°It¡¯s similar to spinning my crucible?¡± ¡°It is spinning your crucible. The difference is that you gain more essence capacity than just spinning your crucible. The downside is the trance you enter while doing it this way, versus spinning your crucible which can be done while doing any other activity.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s start.¡± ¡°Close your eyes.¡± He did so. ¡°Good. Now, I want you to focus on breathing in, and with each breath in, I want it to be as deep as possible and focus on spinning your essence crucible. When you breathe out, you want to reverse the spin of your essence crucible. Reversing your breathing to the movement of essence.¡± Tristan spun his essence crucible and felt the cool energy surging through his chest. He made sure to inhale deeply, and then on the exhalation he reversed the spin, drawing in ambient essence until he was full to bursting. He heard The Matriarch¡¯s voice as he completed his third breathing cycle. ¡°Good. Now, focus on visualizing that spherical crucible.¡± Tristan envisioned and imagined the spherical shape in his mind. The silver orb with crisscrossing lines of icy blue cracks and sparkling with crimson and gold flecks. ¡°I see it,¡± he whispered as he exhaled and kept focusing on the reverse spin. ¡°Now¡­envision yourself traveling inside of it. Going closer and closer, drawn in as you draw in essence and reverse the spin.¡± Tristan did as she instructed, and he could feel himself almost being sucked into his essence crucible. He lost all sense of awareness of his body, but saw¡­himself, dressed in his armor, standing in a massive, snowy field. There were sparkles of glittering white snow ¨C no, silver snow ¨C falling all around him. Flecks of bright blue, gold, and crimson flitted down among the snowy dunes. He took a deep breath and felt the crisp air. The sky above him spun first in one direction, and then in another. I¡¯m inside my essence crucible, he thought. There were no items of note in this space, except for the single tree that stood erect in the center of the snowy field. It looked to be a miniature version of the Queen¡¯s Wood that was the size of an apple tree. He walked through the snow with ease, pushing his legs through the powdery substance as he got closer. Running his fingers along the tree, he could feel the life within it. Almost like a heartbeat. Wait¡­no, it is my heartbeat. He put a hand on his chest and felt the two beating in time with each other. This is wild. Then, he spotted something that was out of the ordinary ¨C well, as ordinary as this space was. A portion of the essence crucible¡¯s outer edge bulged inward slightly. He walked over to it and saw that the bulge was like a dent in armor. I wonder if I can hammer this out? As he thought that, a wooden maul manifested in his hands. Oh, well, that simplifies things. He pulled his arm back and swung. He could feel a resonance, a ringing inside of his head. And his torso hurt like someone had punched him. But the indent was fixed and the sphere¡­grew slightly. The tree to his side grew ever-so-slightly. The snowfall increased just a little. He felt a hard pinch on his arm, ¡°Ouch!¡± he shouted. And his awareness returned to him. He gasped, and almost fell out of his chair as he regained control of his body and his surroundings. The Matriarch was standing several feet away, and she rushed over, grabbing the fairy dragon that Tristan now saw had been partially frozen in a cube of ice. ¡°Oh, damnit, Jeremy!¡± She ran him over to the cooking station and dunked him into a pot of liquified clearcool. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Tristan got up and made to move over, but he saw that everything on that external platform was coated in ice. Including the spell primers. But the fairy dragon ¨C this Jeremy¡¯s ¨C well-being was more important. He rushed over to The Matriarch, ¡°What happened?¡± She huffed and looked at him as the fairy dragon began to get thawed out and wiggle around a bit. ¡°I underestimated you.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°I thought¡­No, I felt that you had a strong essence crucible. High-quality, effectively. The only time I¡¯ve ever felt power like what you just exerted ¨C being able to freeze an entire area just by meditating¡­none since the first Winterbloom Elf was capable of that.¡± Tristan felt incredibly small at that moment. As if he was just shoved into the shoes of someone much larger and he was unable to move about because of it. ¡°It¡¯s because I was the first Elf here in so long, right?¡± She nodded and smiled as Jeremy fully thawed out and began wiggling his wings around. She pulled him out of the bubbling water and threw him up into the air a few times, tossing him in little spins as the watery clearcool splashed around. He was quite floofy and grumbled before flying off mid-spin-throw. ¡°Sorry!¡± Tristan shouted after him. The Matriarch looked at Tristan and brushed some strands of hair behind his ear, ¡°You are correct. I knew that the realm¡¯s imbuement of you with essence would result in a strong essence crucible." Tristan frowned, ¡°But I don¡¯t have enough essence capacity to even use Second Order spells.¡± ¡°Essence capacity does not equate to quality. Essence crucibles have various¡­well, I guess the best way to describe it¡­have you ever been to a tournament? Where warriors evaluate rankings in competition?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes, we went to a few melees and jousts.¡± ¡°And what reward did the officiants give?¡± ¡°Normally jewelry.¡± ¡°Mhmm. And what are the most valuable at those competitions?¡± ¡°The same as the money system. Gold, electrum, silver, and then copper for those who competed but did not place in the top three.¡± ¡°Now, imagine that your essence crucible has a ¡®place¡¯. A rarity based upon how well they perform. You might not have a large essence capacity, but it can regenerate essence quickly, and utilize it more efficiently, than a lower rarity one.¡± Tristan let out a deep exhale, ¡°That is¡­ a lot to take in.¡± He looked over to the study area, where fairy dragons were playing on the smooth, icy surfaces as if they were slides. It brought a little chuckle to his voice as he kept speaking. ¡°Well then. Let¡¯s rescue those primers so they aren¡¯t ruined.¡± The Matriarch and the fairy dragons assisted Tristan in chipping the ice from the various surfaces and they were able to rescue the cushions and all the books. The Astrologer¡¯s Glass would be fine, as it was made of metal and glass. After relocating the items away, the fairy dragons kept playing on the slick surface, and Tristan rejoined The Matriarch over next to the crafting stations. She began pointing out the three covered jars of substances and a huge barrel made of some type of hardened clay. ¡°I have a large amount of the clearcool potion ready to be turned into an elixir. And the three jars have the panacea, healing, and essence potions ready as well.¡± Tristan recalled the words she had instructed him in as he walked over to the enormous barrel first. Moving the large leaf off the top, he reached his arm down and began swirling with his finger as he spun his essence crucible. He felt the refreshing breeze throughout his body and willed the essence into his fingertip. ¡°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 clearcool elixir surged with a brilliant, silver-white light before it faded. Almost instantly, a swarm of fairy dragons came over and formed a small assembly line. One of them used a ladle to reach down into the barrel and pull up the liquid, that was then put into the small, clay jars for single-dose sizes, covered with a leaf, and then tied tight with twine before being put aside. ¡°Efficient,¡± Tristan observed. The Matriarch nodded, ¡°My children are quite skilled at teamwork.¡± Tristan went to the three different potions and performed the same spell; only having to pause to reverse spin his essence crucible and refill a single time. The fairy dragons worked their way down the line, and by the time they had finished bottling the various elixirs, he had quite a large supply. Seventy clearcool elixirs, ten healing elixirs of lesser quality thanks to the lesser quality herbs, ten essence elixirs of the lesser quality, and five of the panacea elixirs. Tristan went and grabbed the potion manual, flipping through it to the entry of each different item ¨C save for the clearcool elixirs, which were Fey Realm specific and as far as Tristan knew, not listed anywhere.
Panacea Elixir ¨C this potent curative is based upon the panacea potion, which is a simple ¡®all round¡¯ remedy for many common ills (coughs, shakes, fever). However, the elixir version, unlike its potion counterpart that acts in a slow, measured fashion, performs its task almost instantly. And poisons or diseases that are not too-far along can be cleansed.
Healing Elixir ¨C a simple healing potion is used for minor aches and pains, and could help cuts, scrapes, or bruises heal slightly more rapidly. The elixir version comes in various potencies depending on the quality of the herbs utilized. Minor ¨C cuts and bruises mend faster. Other injury healing is accelerated slightly. Lesser ¨C as the minor version, but all injury recovery is accelerated even more. Greater ¨C as the lesser version, but with even faster recovery. Supreme ¨C the pinnacle of alchemical healing; these potent elixirs will almost-instantly heal any injury that is not a mortal wound.
Essence Elixir ¨C used by essence-weavers. The essence potion is a simple boost to natural essence regeneration rate. The elixir version comes in various potencies depending on the quality of the herbs utilized, and provide a more rapid regeneration rate. Minor ¨C increases essence regeneration rate by (approximately) ten percent. Lesser ¨C increases essence regeneration rate by (approximately) thirty percent. Greater ¨C increases essence regeneration rate by (approximately) sixty percent. Supreme ¨C increases essence regeneration rate by (approximately) one-hundred percent.
Tristan put the book down and looked at small, wooden crates with separate cubby holes for the elixirs. One of the fairy dragons was using some colored dyes to indicate which elixir was which by adding the coloration to the leaf tightly bound on top. The Matriarch chuckled and looked at Tristan, ¡°Well done. It is late. I would recommend resting.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Thank you for everything. Tomorrow, we get into a routine.¡± She raised an eyebrow inquisitively, ¡°Oh? Do tell.¡± ¡°In the morning, I would request that you train me further with the maul for a few hours. Then, melee with sword and maul while I focus on interweaving essence-weaving ¨C just ice elementalism for now ¨C for a few hours. After, we will do meditation in that clearing ¨C I don¡¯t think I need you present for that outside of the first few days to get into the habit.¡± She nodded, ¡°And then?¡± ¡°I will head back here, read the primers, practice some new spells¡­and infuse my last few items with artifice that are high enough quality that they can take it.¡± He glanced over at the gear nearby as he slowly took off his armor and unbelted his sword. ¡°I¡¯ve got that dagger, the sheath maybe, and the greatbow.¡± ¡°We should get you one of the more finely crafted mauls as well.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°I think having it for fighting other people is going to be valuable.¡± He smiled, ¡°I¡¯ve always been a fan of routine.¡± The Matriarch laughed lightly, ¡°Well, that is definitely your Human side talking somewhere deep within you. Most Elves do not stick to a routine. They are whimsical, just like us fairy dragons.¡± Tristan chuckled and shook his head, ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just because I was raised by my grandfather who had a strict training and schooling routine for me.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°Likely, absolutely a likely possibility.¡± ¡°And¡­in four days, I have to go back to the Mortal Realm to speak with Obadai Grimtome, and meet back up with Felicity.¡± ¡°Before you do leave, make sure you try the next layer of the vault.¡± Tristan nodded and headed down the spire to take a bath and go to sleep, ¡°Will do. Thank you, again.¡± ¡°I live to serve.¡± Chapter 35: Establishing a routine
Evening passed and Tristan woke up to the bright sound of a small horn being played softly, but slowly ramping in volume. He sat up, and saw a small group of fairy dragons who were walking on their hind legs, with their arms turned into Human hands instead of their paws, and holding instruments. The one who was blowing into the horn instrument lowered it. ¡°Wake up call!¡± ¡°All right, we rehearsed. One, two-¡± ¡°I was going to be the conductor!¡± ¡°Oh, shut up! Okay, we¡¯ll go on three.¡± ¡°Three!¡± Tristan was at first quite dismayed at the sound and thought to cover his ears ¨C but after an initial burst of loud noise, the volume level lowered and they created a hauntingly beautiful melody. The horn pierced through in small moments among the string instruments, and the one responsible for percussion ¨C wearing a small belt with tons of little drums on it ¨C was beating out a lively rhythm. Tristan found himself just sitting there enjoying the performance, and when the song came to a close, he made sure to applaud. ¡°Excellent. That sounded wonderful. A great way to wake up.¡± The different fairy dragons gave each other high fives, congratulated each other, and then left. Tristan got out of bed, put on the fresh set of clothes that were brought in the night prior, and donned his armor, strapping his sword to his hip. Grabbing the small plate of breakfast, he carried it as he walked up the spire and met The Matriarch in her elfanoid form out in front of the Queen¡¯s Wood. She bowed her head slightly, ¡°Lord Tristan, I have taken the liberty of having some of my children fly to the far reaches of the Fey Realm, to the ancient armories at the boundaries of this place, and they have brought back several practice weapons...and their lethal versions.¡± She gestured to her side, and along a root stretching out from the base of the Queen¡¯s Wood were dozens of weapons ¨C some that Tristan had never even thought to conceive of. All made of Adamant Wood; which he knew would rival steel. He shook his head. Walking over to the root, he set the plate down on it ¨C only for a fairy dragon to fly-by snatch it off of the surface before flying away. Tristan shrugged, then reached out for the largest two-handed maul there. He was able to lift it easily enough despite it having to weigh at least twenty pounds. ¡°I just want to be really skilled with a handful of weapons.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°Gain mastery with a few weapons rather than versatility with many. A wise move.¡± Tristan smiled as he let the hammer-head dangle next to his leg, ¡°Yes. I¡¯m already quite skilled with the sword. I would not say I¡¯m a master, but I am skilled with it. I¡¯m decent enough with a bow, and the same goes for knives.¡± He hefted the maul up to rest the shaft on his shoulder and let that act as a fulcrum as the heavy head dangled over his back. ¡°Knives for up close, my sword for lightly armored and dragons, the greatbow for range, and a maul for heavily armored foes.¡± The Matriarch walked over and picked up a maul of her own, along with a large shield. ¡°Children, be some dears, and bring the rest to the training clearing.¡± She began leading Tristan to the grassy field, and the fairy dragons flew past the two carrying the various weapons and differently sized shields. ¡°You know,¡± she said as she glanced at Tristan, ¡°You may wish to pursue shields as well. Something small to strap onto your forearm so that you may use spells but increase your defenses.¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°I always feel off-balance with shields. Even bucklers just feel wrong.¡± ¡°Suit yourself.¡± The duo arrived at the training field, and The Matriarch began training Tristan. First, she walked him through several simple combination strikes and had him repeat those while she critiqued his form and made corrections. Then, she brought out the training dummy and had him practice approaching from different angles. Lastly, she used the shield and a sword ¨C practice ones made from Adamant Wood. Tristan kept the same maul of the same substance, as a training version would just be a less hefty variant. And he wanted the weight. I actually want to get into a habit of this. He spun his essence crucible during their third practice bout ¨C with The Matriarch primarily on the defensive ¨C and pushed the essence into his armor. The Matriarch retreated a few steps as Tristan¡¯s armor shifted as the stored spell, Scales of Our Foe, was activated. 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. The helm came out of the back of the armor and covered his head; and a mask came down to cover his face and protect all but his eyes for vision. Maul goes with the heavy armor so that I can trade blows and focus less on defense since the weapon is so offense focused. And when I¡¯m using the sword, dagger, or greatbow ¨C I stop the flow of essence. Focus on my speed. And he could feel that ebb and flow as the essence crucible spun and kept feeding the armor covering him in a small, thin, cool stream that filled him with a giddy sense of elation. ¡°What did you do?¡± The Matriarch asked. Tristan rapidly explained what his thoughts were, and she smiled. ¡°I agree with your idea. How is your finger maneuverability?¡± Tristan tried out the simple spell gestures and found to his satisfaction that he could still perform all of them ¨C as the miniature scales were quite articulated and flexed with ease. ¡°Looks good.¡± ¡°Shall we move on to spellweaving?¡± ¡°What now?¡± ¡°Ah, the Elvish term for those who fought up close with a foe while using spells. Spellweaving. Literally weaving weapon attacks with spells.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s do that.¡± They engaged in light sparring. Tristan focused first on creating Frost Walls using the spell of the same name to impede The Matriarch¡¯s path of approach ¨C and the occasional flung starberry from the fairy dragons watching. Eventually, The Matriarch encouraged her children to do more of that, and they jeered and shouted as they pelted Tristan with the food projectiles. This forced him to use multiple Frost Wall spells in rapid succession to prevent himself from being covered with the goopy berries; simulating a barrage of rocks from slingers, arrows, or even crossbow bolts. And he felt himself tiring. He had to let the armor shift back to its usual state and focused entirely on defense as The Matriarch came at him in a measured, smooth, and semi-aggressive approach. During this defensive move, Tristan reverse-spun his essence crucible¡­then stopped himself. I won¡¯t be able to do that in the Mortal Realm. I need to be able to fight while in a deficit. He stopped the spin of his crucible and focused on trying to stay behind his Frost Walls to avoid the incoming barrage of fruit, and holding The Matriarch off. She took a few steps back to disengage and raised an eyebrow quizzically, ¡°Why not draw more essence to continue at full capacity?¡± Tristan let the maul head sink to the ground as The Matriarch waved off the next bombing-run of starberries. ¡°I¡­wanted to¡­fight like I would¡­if I was in the¡­Mortal Realm.¡± He was sucking in air in between words, and leaned forward on the weapon as he took a quick breather. Almost immediately, he sensed movement. Starting to pull back, he felt a thwack on his head. ¡°Ouch!¡± he shouted as he brought his hands up to rub the rapidly-forming bruise. ¡°What was that for?¡± The Matriarch continued battering him around the shoulders, chest, and legs while Tristan tried to dodge finding moderate success. ¡°You want to fight like we are in the Mortal Realm? Your foes will give you no quarter. And you left your weapon behind!¡± Tristan took up a pugilist¡¯s stance and tried to compose himself as the next sword swing came in. Moving his open palm to the inside of The Matriarch¡¯s arm, he gripped the forearm and pulled her forward and off balance ¨C sliding his hand down to hers and wrestling the weapon from her grip. She pulled the shield around and bashed him on the back with it ¨C but he held tight as he finished the spin that reversed their positions. She was now in the spot where the three Frost Walls had been erected to block Tristan off from the aerial assault. He slammed his fist into the ground as she regained her balance, ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). He poured all of the remnants of his lingering essence into the spell, spinning his crucible as quickly as he could. The wall of ice sprung up and trapped The Matriarch within the four walls, and Tristan fell backward from the exhaustion. There was a tremendous crack, and Tristan rolled back up to his feet, going for the maul, and hefting it once more as The Matriarch bashed the shield over and over again at the Frost Wall. ¡°Neat trick!¡± she shouted as she grinned and laughed, the voice echoing from the four walls and giving it an odd tone. ¡°Children, go get him!¡± Tristan was immediately set upon by a hail of starberries, and he covered his face and eyes to prevent from being blinded as the sweet-smelling, sticky berries splattered against him. He couldn¡¯t help but let out an exhausted laugh at the impromptu food-fight. The Matriarch finished breaking out of the icy prison and planted the practice blade on the ground. ¡°I think that is enough practice for one day.¡± Tristan nodded and the fairy dragons called off their assault, going back to perch on the trees and brag to each other about how many hits they managed to land on Tristan. He looked at The Matriarch and smiled, ¡°This is what I need. But tomorrow, blending Frost Flurries instead.¡± ¡°Practice does make perfect,¡± The Matriarch replied. ¡°Now, I believe you said meditation was next on your planned routine?¡± She led Tristan to the center of the field, and a group of fairy dragons brought one of the cushion-style seats from the Queen¡¯s Wood for Tristan to sit on. ¡°I¡¯m going to walk you through the process, and then leave you to it. The band will come rouse you when it has been a few hours.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Tristan nodded and followed her instructions as he relaxed on the cushion. Breathing in the opposite way of his essence crucible spin was jarring, but once he got used to the rhythm and began visualizing, he felt himself going deeper and deeper ¨C almost as if he was dropped into a trance. And when he became aware of his surroundings once more, he was inside his essence crucible. His inner world. It was just like before, but the tree at the center was slightly larger, and the crucible itself felt just a little bigger. He looked around and saw a few more dents ¨C and he set to work with the phantom maul that he had in his grip. Walking over to the edges of the barrier, he lightly hammered out the flaws ¨C feeling a little bit of chest pain every time he did so. But the snow glowed more vibrantly and shifted to a deeper silver instead of the white-silver it had been. I can see the progress I am making now. He walked over to the tree and measured its height compared to himself. It is about one and a half of me in height. I wish I could mark that somehow. As if responding to his thoughts, a series of concentric rings appeared on the center of the tree. A small circle with surrounding circles, almost as if it was carved into the tree and healed over. Elvish lettering within each circle shifted to Standard Tongue. The first circle was filled with the silvery light of his essence¡¯s manifestation, with sparkling flecks of icy-blue, gold, and crimson. I¡¯ve almost filled the first circle, he thought. Which means I must be close to being able to perform Second Order spells! The idea filled him with excitement, and he scanned the spinning crucible around him for more dents to hammer out. Now I at least have a good, consistent way to track my progress.
Hours passed, he was sure, when the same group of fairy dragons playing instruments woke him up with a raucous beat. He was brought out of his reverie almost instantly and saw the band a small distance off. And for good reason, as the whole area around Tristan ¨C easily out twenty feet ¨C was covered in rime and frost. Standing up, he heard the sound of practice weapons on armor. Glancing to the far side of the field, he saw fairy dragons in elfanoid form fighting each other. The Matriarch must have decided on having a defensive force, after all, he thought. Making his way back to the Queen¡¯s Wood, he snacked on some starberries and drank some clearcool before going up the spire and to the boughs of the tree. Sinking down into the chair, he perused the primers at his disposal. I have yet to look into the illusion, flora, imbuement, and enchantment ones. Ice elementalism, as far as I know, is on-hold because I have learned and memorized all the First Order spells the book offers. The same with Artifice, as I don¡¯t plan on stripping the artifice from any of my equipment. He drummed his fingers across the spines of the books. I suppose Imbuement is as good as any. He grabbed the primer and flipped it open. Skipping past the introduction, he thought, why does everyone one of these essence-weavers have to advertise they are the ones who wrote it? The name is on the cover? I don¡¯t care about your life story. He got to where the interesting parts began.
Welcome to your primer on imbuement. The more useful, if less renowned, lesser cousin to artifice. Imbuement is used to create items (scrolls which are one-time use spells, and elixirs, which are herbal concoctions and remedies [commonly referred to as ¡®potions¡¯] empowered by essence to bring out their true characteristics). There are other forms of imbuement for other consumable items, such as food, drink, poultices, and other single-use objects or substances. However, this primer will not touch upon those as this is meant to entail the basics. (Go buy the next book in my series if you want to really take your food to the next level with magically enhanced flavor!) Imbued items are consumed upon use ¨C whether ripping a spell scroll in half to cast the spell stored within or drinking an elixir. Once it is used, it is gone for good. New stores will have to be created. Depending on the type of imbuement (i.e. scrolls or elixirs), you will need the following:
  1. (If creating an elixir) ¨C a prepared potion. Suspended in a solution (such as a light oil) is preferred to ensure liquid consistency.
  2. (If creating a scroll) ¨C parchment, vellum, or another paper-like, tear-able, flat consumable that can accept ink.
    1. 3 inches x 3 inches is the minimum size. Larger is allowed depending on the size of your quill strokes.
    2. It is ill-advised to go beyond 1 foot x 1 foot in size, as spell scrolls are meant to be quickly ripped in half ¨C and the larger the scroll, the longer it will take.
    3. Once written upon with imbued ink, and a spell cast to scribe the spell into the scroll, the scroll lasts until used.
  3. (If creating a scroll) ¨C imbued ink.
    1. Imbued ink must be made with the corresponding Order spell for the spell you wish to scribe.
      1. You cannot use the Imbue Ink (First) to create a scroll of Second or higher Order.
      2. You can use a higher Order imbued ink to craft a lower Order scroll.
    2. Imbued ink lasts for 1 Season per Order of the spell used.
      1. If you were to use the Imbue Ink (First) spell, then the ink would be viable for 1 Season.
Each different spell has its own set of steps included. Please reference each section by Order for an explanation. And don¡¯t forget, the imbuement cookbook is out now! Go spice up your life with essence-weaving! Back to the matter at hand: elixir-imbuing just requires a prepared potion. But you need imbued ink for scrolls. How do you do that, you may ask? Well, flip forward to the spell section! Oh, and one last item; as with artifice, you cannot use imbuement to make, say, a scroll that enables the use of imbuement spells. The same goes for trying to put an artifice spell into a scroll. The two spell types do not play nice with each other, or even themselves, beyond their specific uses.
Tristan flipped through the pages. Scanning the instructions for Infuse Elixir, he saw that it was the simpler of the two, and he had already done it before. The only difference was the language ¨C this one was written in Demon¡¯s Tongue, whereas he knew the Elvish version and had already etched it into his memory from his use of the spell the day prior. Going past that section and all of the subsequent elixir sections, he flipped to the portion about spell scrolls.
Imbue Ink (First) Required Components: inkwell (filled with ink) Spell Phrase: ¡°Prends cette goutte de possibilit¨¦ infinie et guide mon essence dans la pointe de la plume. Transforme le pouvoir de ce sort, permettant de l''emmagasiner en cas de besoin.¡± (Take this drop of infinite possibility and guide my essence into the tip of the quill. Transform the power of this spell, allowing it to be stored for a time of need). Spell Gesture: Hold the inkwell in your dominant hand (or, if ambidextrous, either hand works). Cover the top of the open inkwell with your thumb and wrap the container fully in your fingers so that it is not visible. Instructions: You will write the words of the spell you are storing in the scroll. While you write the words, you will speak the spell phrase ¨C the exact same moment that your lips move, your quill must also move. Take appropriate pauses as necessary with your speaking and quill dipping. While speaking this spell phrase, you must push your essence into your writing-hand¡¯s fingertips, and down into the quill.
This must be why artifice is the harder of the two, Tristan thought. All you need is the imbued ink and appropriate parchment for imbuement. Tristan looked up at the few fairy dragons who were dancing with each other in a slow waltz, with a single violinist from the earlier music troupe playing a soft melody. Getting up and walking gingerly around them, he went over to imbuing station and saw several sheets of a large, dried-out leaf that functioned similar to parchment. Picking one up, and also grabbing a quill which looked to be a hollowed-out needle of some type, he grabbed an inkwell and shook it next to his ear. Full up. Putting it into his right hand, he closed his eyes and spun his essence crucible. He felt the cooling energy surge through his body, and whispered the spell phrase. ¡°Prends cette goutte de possibilit¨¦ infinie et guide mon essence dans la pointe de la plume. Transforme le pouvoir de ce sort, permettant de l''emmagasiner en cas de besoin.¡± He saw the silvery tinged icy-blue essence flow down his hand and into his thumb before his hand grew warm. Setting it down, he saw the ink was swirling with the same color of his essence. And now what spell do I want to store? He tapped the quill against his temple a few times before it struck him. The Invoke Growth spell from the flora spell type. He began writing out the words, muttering them under his breath as he spoke and only pausing to re-dip his quill. ¡°Nopeuttaa n?iden kasvien kasvua. Auta niit? juurtumaan.¡± The ink flowed out of the quill and onto the page as he wrote, and as he did so, the letters almost took on a life of their own. As he finished and put the quill away, the ink faded to a silvery color ¨C the same as his essence. ¡°Curious.¡± Tristan jumped a little as he looked back to see The Matriarch. ¡°Oh, you startled me.¡± She pointed at the spell scroll, ¡°This would be excellent to sell a burgeoning herbalist or gardener. Or, if you desired to grow your own garden which there is space for, already.¡± Tristan gestured to the scroll, ¡°I wrote in Elvish instinctively without learning it. You had mentioned something about that before.¡± The Matriarch smiled, ¡°It is your heritage, Lord Tristan. Congratulations: due to your heritage and bloodline manifesting how they did, you gained full fluency in Elvish.¡± Tristan chuckled and thought, Learning Dragon¡¯s Tongue was a pain in the ass. I¡¯ll take free fluency any day. ¡°Good to know. Time to test it out.¡± The Matriarch sprouted wings from her back, grabbed Tristan, and flew him down to the ground at the base of the tree. She led him over to a series of small grasses that were just breaking through. ¡°You should be able to just tear the scroll, and the spell will manifest.¡± ¡°This was weak the last time I did it,¡± Tristan said as he crouched down next to the small, verdant growths. ¡°And I could only do one plant at a time because of the spell gesture¡­how will this work?¡± ¡°To be frank, I do not know. I do not often make spell scrolls.¡± Tristan sighed. Well, I need to test this out regardless. He held the spell scroll above the center-most sprout and ripped the scroll in half. It flared with a silvery light before bursting into sparkles that shimmered in the air around him. The shimmers began to settle on the plants below, and all of them grew a tiny bit. Putting his head flat on the ground, he saw they were very slowly growing. ¡°Looks like it affected everything the sparkles touched.¡± The growth continued for ten seconds before stopping. The Matriarch helped him up, ¡°A good test to be sure. We are drawing towards the evening. I would advise skipping the artifice today ¨C my children have been preparing a treat.¡± Tristan raised a quizzical eyebrow but followed her into the tree. To his surprise, the tree interior had been completely redecorated with hanging, shimmering purple lanterns with little bursts of green and blue light inside. The band that had been in his room earlier had expanded to a full ensemble, and there were grassy reeds laid all about to form a flat surface. Many fairy dragons were transformed into a elfanoid shape ¨C some were taller, some shorter, which Tristan attributed to their size ¨C seeing how The Matriarch towered over all of them. She gestured and the group bowed, ¡°You should not just learn the language, essence-weaving, and fighting prowess of your ancestors, but also our revelries and culture. As such, my children have been practicing ¨C clearing the rust off, figuratively speaking. Both for the song and dance. Please, do not feel pressured to join in ¨C but if you wish to learn, we will of course teach you of your people.¡± Tristan chuckled and walked to the center of the dance space. The Matriarch joined him, and began guiding him through the dance steps. It was similar to a waltz ¨C which Tristan was familiar with from being in court culture. However, this was not slow and gentle. It was fast, and continually involved him turning in multiple directions. The Matriarch was an excellent teacher, and despite his few stumbles ¨C which elicited some laughter from the surrounding fairy dragons, he found joy in the activity. Tristan laughed along with them, and the lesson on Elven culture lasted deep into the night as he danced and danced. It felt right. As if he was meant to be doing this. As if he was born for this. Chapter 36: Inner World combat training
Tristan¡¯s routine played out the following day. In the morning, he went with The Matriarch to the training field and rotated between fighting with his knife, the maul, and his sword. After some practice he swapped to the greatbow and made sure he was not too rusty with the weapon. Thankfully, his muscle memory kicked in, and his improved physique from his Elven heritage pushing out his Human side made the bow he used to struggle with bend back with ease. After training with weapons and nothing else, they began to practice spellweaving. Tristan was able to utilize the Frost Flurry and Frost Wall spells with ease; fending off ¡®archers¡¯ in the form of starberries flung at him from slingshots that the fairy dragons had created with the latter, and shooting moving targets at various ranges. But The Matriarch pushed him to his limits, consistently coming at him with potent combinations of weapon swings that forced Tristan to focus more on his weapon skills rather than integration spells to the point where he had to ask her to slow down. ¡°What is the matter, Lord Tristan? This should be easy for you to deal with.¡± Tristan was breathing heavily and shook his head as he set the maul down. ¡°I can¡¯t keep up with you and practice spellweaving. You¡¯re just too skilled for me to split my focus like that.¡± She frowned and tapped her foot on the ground, the clawed appendage pulling up small clods of grass and dirt as she did so. ¡°I may have underestimated your essence crucible, but it seems that I overestimated your combat prowess.¡± Tristan chuckled and nodded as he leaned forward on the pommel of the maul. ¡°I trained to fight dragons, not people. I¡¯m not an expert in that.¡± The Matriarch raised a quizzical eyebrow, ¡°And yet you have not actually fought a dragon, have you?¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°No,¡± he admitted. ¡°But grandfather told me that I am skilled enough based upon my practice against his puppets.¡± The Matriarch nodded and pulled her sword up to a combat stance, ¡°Well, until you can test your prowess against the real creature, I think you need to get better at bladework.¡± She lowered the sword, ¡°Have you been practicing in your inner world?¡± ¡°Umm¡­no,¡± Tristan said, confused. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that I could do that. I¡¯ve just been hammering out dents in the essence crucible¡¯s shell.¡± The Matriarch let out a barking laugh, ¡°You¡¯ve been using a hammer on your essence crucible? Doesn¡¯t that hurt?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°It does feel a little painful, but each time the shell grows very slightly.¡± The Matriarch chuckled and put the sword down, ¡°No! You don¡¯t have to do that! Just push against it with your hands next time. And¡­practice in that inner world.¡± She planted the sword in the ground before her. ¡°An essence-weaver with an essence crucible can use their inner world to help reinforce their muscle memory, their learning, and improve upon their essence capacity. I would advise we stop training for now, and you do an extended meditation session. Focus on practicing your fighting prowess.¡± Tristan nodded and left the maul sitting on the ground as he headed to the center of the clearing. The grass was much shorter as his last session that left the ice on the ground had pushed the plants down into the dirt. He sat down and crossed his legs as he took a deep breath. ¡°I know that I can manifest weapons while I¡¯m in there¡­could I manifest foes to practice against?¡± ¡°Your inner world can manifest virtually anything you can imagine. It should be noted that you will feel some pain if you suffer an injury ¨C but it is not real. Just phantom pain. If you were to¡­say¡­imagine an Arch Dragon from an Elemental Realm, and it killed you? You would just snap out of the meditative trance.¡± She held up a finger, ¡°But, the things you imagine will act how you imagine them to act.¡± Tristan nodded and closed his eyes, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s do this. I want to try without your walkthrough.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± He heard the Matriarch move a small distance away. Tristan began his breathing exercise where he had to reverse his breathing with the motion of the essence crucible ¨C breathing in and spinning his crucible to push the essence out into his body. It gave a deep, soothing, brisk chill that cooled his warm-from-exercise body. Then, breathing out as he pulled the essence back into his crucible along with some of the ambient energy in the environment. He envisioned his essence crucible ¨C a glistening silver with icy-blue cracks that were slightly larger than before, and the gold and crimson flecks were now embedded inside those cracks. He felt himself moving into the essence crucible and found himself in his inner world once more. The space was larger than before, and he went over to the tree. The first circle is almost filled, he thought as he looked at the symbol that represented his progression of cultivating his essence crucible. Turning to the snowy expanse, he thought about holding his sword and wearing his armor. Both appeared on him, and he walked a small distance from the tree. ¡°Okay¡­me¡­let¡¯s do this,¡± he muttered. ¡°I want to fight a single mercenary,¡± he said as he pictured The Black Company members he had fought a few weeks prior. In front of him, the ice and snow swirled before forming a frozen facsimile of the mercenary ¨C dressed in black, studded leather armor and holding a wicked-looking mace with protrusions that would crush bone. It stood there¡­waiting for something. ¡°Umm¡­fight me?¡± The figure ran forward and almost caught Tristan off guard. He was able to get his blade into the path of the mace and deflected it to the side. Don¡¯t look at it, Tristan thought, look at something beyond him. Trust your peripherals. He focused on a spot beyond the man¡¯s shoulder and brought the weapon up into a ready position. The ice-mercenary came back with a vicious, horizontal swing that Tristan was able to deflect upward to make an opening, and he scored a vicious slash across the torso ¨C cutting deep. Through armor, into where organs would be as he had to put his leg up, knee to the man¡¯s torso, and wrench his blade out of the opening. The figure crumpled. Looks like training with The Matriarch, even if just for a little while, has helped my progress as a fighter. Tristan smiled as he tossed his sword into his other hand. Let¡¯s turn this into the longer, more deadly version. As he thought that, he saw the sword elongate to its essence-fueled, artifice form as the stored Dragon¡¯s Doom spell activated. ¡°Now¡­let¡¯s make a dragon.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The ice and snow in front of him began to swirl in a tremendous flurry, and he saw the gold and crimson sparkles flutter from the edges of the essence crucible to color the figure before him. ¡°Let¡¯s see what grandfather fought. Go for wyrm size. The same as the Arch Dragon that grandfather fought.¡± Tristan had seen the puppets that were appropriately sized for a wyrm, and his mind drew upon the pictures his grandfather had sketched out; as well as paintings and artwork of the powerful creatures. The icy swirl before him spun and grew in size until it was easily one-hundred feet long from tip to tail, with an enormous, barrel-like torso covered in glimmering, icy scales that were flecked with the gold and crimson sparkles. Its wings spread easily two-hundred feet in either direction, and were leathery, tipped with spikes where the bone structure extended out. The claws were easily the size of a horse and gripped onto the snowy ground. From ground to the top of its back was thirty feet up. The head was most imposing of all. It was akin to the dragons from the Elemental Realm of Fire, as those were the ones that his grandfather drew sketches of. A large, crested head with spikes that ringed about the crown and jowls. An extended snout that was lined with countless razor-sharp teeth the size of longswords. And the creature stood completely still. Tristan stood there, in awe of the creature he was looking at that dwarfed him. Grandfather fought and killed something like this?! This is insane. He glanced down at his sword that could maybe poke the giant, tower shield sized eyes of the creature. How am I suppose to kill a dragon of that size with this? He shook his head and then shook his arms and legs, trying to get rid of the tension. This is the perfect chance to train and practice against something that is like the real thing. I know how dragons fight thanks to training against the puppets grandfather made. Now I get to apply the practice to¡­more practice. He took a few deep, calming breaths, and then stood fifty feet away from the creature. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± The creature came to life; moving and shifting as the powerful mass underneath the icy scales emulated the creature¡¯s movement based on the descriptions that Tristan¡¯s grandfather provided. It let out a roar that sounded powerful, proud, and commanding ¨C an apex predator that knew it had no equal; that¡¯s how Tristan envisioned the sound. And it brought a quivering to his heart as he felt fear. But, he pushed that down and let his training take over as he replayed his grandfather¡¯s words as he trained against those enormous puppets. ¡°Wyrm-sized dragons always roar before fighting; an intimidation tactic. Use that opening to close the distance. You must be quick, and get as close to their underbelly as possible.¡± Tristan heeded those words as he sprinted ¨C far faster than he used to be able to ¨C into the area right between the dragon¡¯s legs. As he sprinted forward, he held the blade in his hands aloft and dragged it along the underside. It was not large enough to cause a huge amount of damage, but this was a distracting blow. The creature slammed its bulk down ¨C but Tristan was already out behind it, and he grabbed the tail as all thoughts left his mind and his training took over. ¡°Damage its weak spot to make it fear the sudden attack and take you seriously as a threat. Often, they will try to crush you with their bulk; which will help increase the damage of the underbelly cut. Get out the back or side, and then use that chance to mount them.¡± Tristan clambered up the tail ¨C finding that his armored, booted feet were easily able to find purchase. I always wondered what those tiny bumps on the bottom were for, he thought. Grinning, he scrabbled up the back of the beast as it began to roll, and he ran the opposite direction. ¡°When they realize you are on them, they will do one of three things. One; roll to try and crush you ¨C run the opposite direction to stay on top of them. Two; lift off and perform aerial maneuvers ¨C stab your blade into them and hold on for dear life or grab onto something like a spine. Three; spin in circles relying on that rotation to throw you off. Same instructions as scenario two.¡± Tristan let his training take over as he ran around the rolling creature¡¯s torso, taking a few swings at the membrane of the wings as he passed by. ¡°Whenever possible, damage the wings. It will prevent them from flying and keep them grounded.¡± Tristan was able to slash several large gashes into the wings, and the creature ended its roll upright as it tried to lift off and fly ¨C but could not. It began to spin in a tight circle, trying to fling him off. He ran up the spine of the icy-construct dragon, grabbing the spines as he went to prevent himself from being flung off. He felt dizzy and the spin came to a close, but he kept pulling himself forward. Towards the place between the wings, where the joints entered the back. ¡°Most people think that a dragon¡¯s weak spot is the neck or the soft underbelly ¨C but the weakest point is the bundle of muscle right between the wings. Underneath that is their heart ¨C pierce that, and it will eventually perish. This is why when dragons fight each other, they try to get above one another ¨C a single, solid blow will end the fight¡­or at least lead to its conclusion.¡± Tristan got to that point and lifted the blade, preparing to stab down, when the head circled back to face him, the mouth opened, and he saw the sphere of crimson and gold sparks turn into a flame. Crap! Tristan had nowhere he could go to dodge or evade. ¡°If you are in the range of its breath weapon ¨C which changes depending on the Elemental Realm it comes from ¨C you must get out of the way. If not, then get behind something that can take the blow. This is its trump card, and they cannot re-use their breath weapon for a minimum of ten seconds, with the cooldown period lengthening the smaller they are.¡± Tristan knew he was going to ¡®die¡¯ in this phantom encounter. But I have to try something! He curled his right hand into a fist with his thumb tucked inside, and slammed it down onto the dragon¡¯s hide before him. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf!¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). The wall of ice grew in front of him, and as he spun his essence crucible his peripherals caught sight of the exterior of his inner world spinning as well. The icy wall shot up in front of him, and the flaming torrent spewed out. Tristan could see the ice melting away. No time to gawk! He lifted his sword and plunged it into the vital spot between the wing joints. He felt it cut down deep; but not deep enough. He could feel the heat radiating from the still-active-but-almost-melted wall of ice. Growling, he held his hand out and a maul manifested in his grip. ¡°Just go in!¡± he shouted as he lifted the hammer and brought it down onto the hilt of his planted sword ¨C pushing it all the way down to the cross guard as it impaled the creature through the heart. He dropped the maul, ripped the sword out, and a geyser of icy-blue liquid shot upward. The flames breached the ice wall, and Tristan dove to the side ¨C off of the creature and landing in a roll that hurt as he dropped the thirty-foot distance. He felt something crunch and winced. But, grinned in triumph as the creature let out a pitiful wail before collapsing and turning into a slurry. Then, it faded to snow and ice. Tristan let out an exhausted laugh ¨C and then felt a hard pinch on his shoulder. Oh, meditation time must be up. He focused on leaving his inner world, and his eyes snapped open in the real world. He saw The Matriarch standing next to him. She had a stern expression on her face. ¡°Lord Tristan ¨C we must go. Now.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Tristan asked as he stood up and took in the frozen terrain around himself. ¡°Whatever you did in your inner world signaled something. An incursion is underway.¡± She pointed into the sky off in the distance, and Tristan saw a small, glowing, red light that illuminated the horizon beyond the trees ¨C like a smoke-filled sunset. ¡°The Elemental Realm of Fire is intruding into the Fey Realm.¡± Chapter 37: Incursion into the Fey Realm
Tristan looked at The Matriarch with concern writ across his visage, ¡°I know that other Realms can open rifts into the Mortal Realm¡­but Realms can cross-intrude?¡± The Matriarch shifted to her full sized form, and lifted Tristan onto her back, nestling him between her wings. ¡°Yes. Realms can breach into other Realms. It is called an incursion when that happens, though the term ¡®rift¡¯ is used to describe the tear in space from the incursion.¡± She arced her head back and let out a tremendous roar, speaking Elvish. ¡°Lapseni! Ne, jotka ovat tarpeeksi isoja taistelemaan, liittyk?? minuun! Loput - valmistautukaa kuningattaren mets??n!¡± (My children! Those who are big enough to fight, join me! The rest - prepare the Queen''s Wood). She lifted off the ground and Tristan scrabbled for a handhold, finding her mix of scales and fur providing a few places to grasp. Thankfully, he had his sword sheathed on his hip ¨C but the rest of the equipment was left behind at the training field. The hammer was useful for driving the sword home ¨C hopefully whatever is coming into the Fey Realm isn¡¯t wyrm size. He shuddered at the thought of fighting one of those creatures he fought in his inner world in real life. The Matriarch growled, ¡°This is the fourth incursion from the Realm of Fire in ten years. They are out of control.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Tristan shouted over the rushing wind as he saw the sky grow a darker red. ¡°Someone slew the Arch Dragon called Amisgur; the Realm Protector. And they have not figured out a successor ¨C too much infighting.¡± The Matriarch sounded sad, ¡°Eventually, they will either choose a new Realm Protector¡­or their Realm will become one of the Lost Realms.¡± Tristan wanted to question that further but he was distracted by the feeling of heat growing around them. Oppressive heat. Spinning his essence crucible, he pushed the cooling, soothing power into his limbs to counteract the effect. And this is after drinking the Arch Dragon¡¯s blood which gave me resistance to flame and heat. He tried to gauge how The Matriarch was feeling but could not get a read on her. They were joined in their flight across the treetops by other fairy dragons until their numbers were in the hundreds. Large-sized fairy dragons with varying colorations that seemed to match up to the different types of trees he had observed being ¡®wedges¡¯ of this Realm. And all of them had shapeshifted their front paws into scythe-like blades of sharpened horns. Perfect for fly-by attacks that would slice into their foes. They approached the edge of the forest and Tristan recognized the terrain. This is the same hill I arrived at with Felicity, he thought. And the field full of the jumpshrub that I could hop on to move faster. Atop the hill was a jagged tear in reality that showed a landscape full of red brick-colored rocks flowing with rivers of liquid fire. The skies in that Realm beyond the rift were a deep grey, like the color of pallid smoke that belched from furnaces and chimneys of smiths. The tear was twenty feet wide and thirty feet tall. The heat, however, was the most oppressive portion of the encounter with this rift in space. Tristan felt like he had just looked into Gertrude¡¯s oven downstairs in the townhouse. It instantly set him to sweating, and that was with his spinning essence crucible generating a chill, and the innate resistance from drinking the Arch Dragon¡¯s blood. He glanced around and saw the panting of the fairy dragon¡¯s exertion-fueled flight. I want to help, he thought. But he knew that it would cost a lot of essence ¨C more than he had, definitely ¨C to cool all of them. They have to tough it out. There was no movement at first. Then, he saw shapes. Small shapes, the size of children. But they had red skin that looked akin to raw meat. Their eyes were beady, black dots, and they wielded weapons and armor that was relatively primitive, sharpened rocks with some slings. Goblins, Tristan knew immediately. He¡¯d read about the creatures in monster manuals that his grandfather insisted he study. Some of the weakest of the Elemental Realm creatures, they were only slightly more intelligent than a dog. Trainable, naturally submissive to their master, and reproduced very quickly. The fairy dragons began dive-bombing, extending their scythe-like appendages as they swooped through the ranks in practiced formation; never letting the goblins make it more than ten feet beyond the rift¡¯s opening before the next wave sliced through them. But more kept coming. Hundreds upon hundreds flooded through the rift. The Matriarch flew forward, but then stopped and flapped in place as a larger bulk began to emerge from the rift. A dragon¡­a real dragon, Tristan thought. It looked just like his grandfather had described, but it was smaller than the wyrm sized one. Oh, thank the gods it is just an adult. That brought some relief, as Tristan knew that he performed the best on the training dummies of that size. It emerged from the rift and unleashed a terrifying roar that shook the air. ¡°Ich beanspruche dieses Reich f¨¹r mich! Alle werden sich vor dem m?chtigen Tarthorax verneigen! Unterwerft euch oder sterbt!¡± (I claim this Realm as my own! All shall bow before the mighty Tarthorax! Submit or die!). Tristan knew that language, but none of the fairy dragons seemed to. The Matriarch ¨C either forgetting he was on her back or intentionally doing the maneuver ¨C swooped low to the ground and then spun around in a tight aileron roll. ¡°Let go, Lord Tristan!¡± That answered that question for him. He let go and landed on the jumpshrubs, and they cushioned his fall as he bounced a few times. Getting up, he began running towards the portal to do something to help. The Matriarch let out a roar of her own, and this Tarthorax rose up to meet her. Their clash in the air was a sight to behold, and Tristan was dumbstruck as he saw the powerful entities meet. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The Matriarch was smaller and faster than the fire dragon, and she got around behind it as it was ascending, dive-bombing for the weak spot. But the fire dragon responded to this by flapping his wings mightily and pushing up higher; her swoop missing. She flapped rapidly out of the dive to gain elevation, and the two squared off up above. Tristan could not focus on the fighting in the skies above him as he, being the only thing on the ground that these goblins could get to, surged towards him. He felt fear seize his heart as he saw the coming rush of dozens of the creatures. Gnashing their sharp teeth, trying to push past each other with their crude weapons to kill him. Tristan drew his sword and took up a ready position. I need to get to the gate to help stem the tide, he thought. It will be essence intensive, but if I can put up a Frost Wall, I can hold it for a bit until The Matriarch does whatever she has to do to close the incursion off. He felt the bouncy surface under his feet¡­and an idea formed in his head. These things probably have no clue how to move on these things. I can use that to my advantage. He tested his footing to make sure, and was confident that he could use the surface¡¯s unique properties to jump over clusters of goblins to prevent himself from being surrounded. And they¡¯ve probably never fought on this type of surface, he thought. Trsitan felt some confidence come back as he prepared for the first wave. Thankfully, the following waves were being scythed through and he was only left with eight of the creatures approaching. It was¡­disgustingly easy work. Tristan¡¯s reach from his long, thin sword was far more than the simple clubs and spears these creatures held. He flicked his blade back and forth, and every strike, ended one of the goblin¡¯s lives. This is it? This is how easily goblins die? He chuckled, what was I worrying about? He ran forward ¨C bouncing lightly on the Jumpshrubs ¨C and carved a path through the goblins. Until the flow stopped. He raced up the hill and the heat grew more and more oppressive. Until he finally crested the top and arrived where he had first appeared in the Fey Realm. He could see the surging, liquid flames beyond the portal¡¯s limits. The goblins they had fought must have only been the first wave; as he saw a rushing horde of thousands of the creatures approaching. Kneeling down, he planted his fist on the ground with the thumb tucked inside. It is going to cost a ton of essence to make this, he thought as he kept the increased cost in mind for ice elementalism due to hot or arid conditions ¨C of which his current situation definitely qualified. He spun his essence crucible as fast as he could, feeling the surging cool race through him as he focused it down into his fist. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). The wall began to grow ¨C slowly ¨C and the horde continued their charge. Tristan spun his crucible as fast as he could, feeling it begin to wobble from the speed as his essence surged out and tapped him dry ¨C exhaustion taking over. The wall was only five feet high and ten feet long. Not enough to block the gap, and I¡¯m already out of essence! What can I do? He wracked his brain for ideas. I know this realm has ambient essence, but I need to spin my essence crucible in reverse to suck it in¡­but the essence crucible is not a solid sphere, is it? It¡¯s an ethereal object; part here, part in some weird other existence. He shut his eyes and focused on visualizing the sphere that was dull silver. He saw the visual in his mind¡¯s eye. Alright. I want to make a line between the bottom and top. He saw the normally icy-blue cracks begin to move and shuffle towards the middle of the sphere, forming a ring that was still jagged but more condensed. Perfect, he thought. Now, I want the top half to spin to bring in essence, and the bottom half to push out the essence. The feeling in his torso was odd. He could feel tightness right behind his sternum, and at the same time a sense of unease as his lower torso and stomach began to squish around inside him; making him very aware of the organs sloshing around in his body. But¡­he felt it. The Fey Realm¡¯s ambient essence was filling him up ¨C entering the top of his essence crucible and then passing through it like a funnel, causing it to flare with the silvery light that then re-lit the crucible with the icy-blue coloration. The essence coming out the bottom of the crucible shot straight down his arm. Tristan, in that moment, knew he was channeling the very essence of the Fey Realm itself into his spell. And he felt tremendous power surging through his body as his essence channel was forced even wider, causing extreme pain that made him grit his teeth. Then, that pain spread to his whole body ¨C and he screamed out in agony. Come on! Push through it! He saw the ice wall shoot up and fill the whole space of the rift. Thicker! He poured more essence into the spell and saw the wall growing thicker faster than it was melting. The temperature instantly grew cooler, and Tristan saw through the clear surface that the goblins were charging into the far side of the wall and coming up against the barrier to no avail. They were chopping into his ice ¨C but he made it faster than the heat of that realm could melt it. He let out a laugh of relief as the pain faded and he felt the essence suffusing his entire body; his channels pushed out to wider than they had ever been. The raw, magical energy surging through him made him giddy and he laughed even louder as if he was told a hilarious joke. He was only pulled out of his revel when the fairy dragons landed, ¡°Lord Tristan? Are you well?¡± Tristan looked at them ¨C standing twenty feet away. And that¡¯s when he noticed that the entire area of the hill ¨C down to the jumpshrubs below ¨C was coated in ice and rime. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± he said with glee. ¡°I¡¯m holding it! How do we close it?¡± He shook off the ice that had coated him from the backlash. Good thing that it doesn¡¯t really affect me. Thank you, Winterbloom bloodline. ¡°The Matriarch closes rifts,¡± one of them replied. ¡°But she is busy.¡± They pointed up into the sky, and Tristan tracked their gaze. The Matriarch was engaged in a ferocious battle above. Her body was covered in burns; with fur burned away in patches showing raw flesh underneath. She had suffered gashes and crunching injuries as well. The dragon was in rough shape as well ¨C but was coming out on top. I thought that The Matriarch was akin to a godlike being? As strong as Arch Drag- he spotted something. Something weird. A dull, red collar that had been indistinguishable from the scales, until now due to the blood streaking over it to reveal the different texture. Is it an item of artifice? His answer was confirmed as he saw the wounds of the creature seal over. ¡°He¡¯s healing himself with the collar,¡± Tristan said as he pointed with his sword hand. ¡°We cannot get close without getting in The Matriarch¡¯s way!¡± one of them shouted at him, panicking. Tristan glanced back at the ice wall which would take a good while to get through. ¡°Hold the rift.¡± He stood up and began walking to the edge of the hill. ¡°Forgive me, Lord Tristan¡­what can you do?¡± Tristan grinned and raised his hand, ¡°I¡¯m a gods-damned dragonslayer. I¡¯m doing what I was born to do. Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen¡± (I summon forth the fury of ice and frost: form shards that will pierce and slash my target). Chapter 38: Dragonslayer
In front of his palm, the icy spike grew. He fueled essence into it. All of the essence he had churning through him. The very power of the Realm, funneled through his essence crucible and into the spell. The icicle grew and grew; from the size of a dog, to a horse, to a house, to a fortified tower. ¡°Matriarch! To me!¡± Tristan shouted as loud as he could. His voice boomed far louder than he expected it to. Is it because I¡¯m¡­one with the Realm? He asked himself in his thoughts. Maybe because the power of the realm is not just being sucked up but flowing through me? Regardless, his ploy worked, as The Matriarch wheeled about from her combat and dove towards Tristan. He saw her eyes and he knew that she knew the plan. She approached him as if going to divebomb him; and this Tarthorax chased her. With fifty feet left to go, she shifted from her enormous fairy-dragon form and into that of a small, her-children-sized fairy dragon. And that led Tarthorax right into range. Tristan let the spell fly, and the enormous tower-sized projectile streaked up and slammed into the creature with a terrifying crunch as the spike impaled it through the right shoulder. Damn, I missed the head, Tristan thought as the beast let out a gurgle and plummeted. Slam! It impacted the side of the frozen hill. Tristan heard the horrific snaps and cracking of the bones as it pancaked thanks to the speed it was flying at, and began to slide down the hill. The Matriarch landed on his head much like Felicity would. Her voice was ragged and came through in gasps as her blood dripped onto Tristan¡¯s head. ¡°He¡­regenerates¡­somehow.¡± ¡°The collar,¡± Tristan said as he jumped down the hill¡¯s curve and began sliding towards the now-settling on the jumpshrubs body. He saw the body begin to knit itself back together as limbs snapped back into place and the eyes refocused onto Tristan. ¡°Go! Seal the rift! I have this handled!¡± ¡°Are you su-¡± ¡°That is an order, Matriarch! Leave the dragon to the dragonslayer!¡± Tristan felt the authority his voice carried and felt a pulse in his chest. Not just the power of the Realm¡¯s essence flowing through his body, but something deeper. Something in his blood, singing a war cry. His grandfather¡¯s bloodline, flowing through his veins, spurring him to kill this dragon. His prey. Something he could kill to consume for power. ¡°It is mine!¡± he shouted. He felt a desire ¨C no, a hunger. A need to kill this creature and take its strength for his own. The Matriarch lifted off and flapped her way up the hill, but Tristan had eyes only for the beast before him. He screamed out a war cry and poured the essence into his blade, feeling it elongate until it was easily seven feet long from tip to hilt as it surged with the silvery essence. Cascading crackles of gold and crimson sparks echoed around the flowing surge, and icy-blue plants wound their way from the hilt he held onto with both hands. He reached the flat ground as the dragon was beginning to get up. No you don¡¯t! He jumped up ¨C propelled by the jumpshrub ¨C and got onto its back with the single leap. The creature seemed to know the danger it was in, as it poured more essence into the artifice collar on its neck and its wounds fully repaired. It bucked right as Tristan landed on it ¨C sending a jarring shake through Tristan¡¯s legs as he bent them to absorb the shock. He was off target from the weak spot. ¡°Verschwinde, Insekt!¡± (Get off, insect!), the thing roared as it began to flap its wings. ¡°Ich bin kein Insekt ¡° (I am no insect!), Tristan shouted as he used the elongated blade to slash gouges in the wings. First the left, then with a swift motion, the right. The dragon flapped but the gashes kept it from rising. ¡°Du wirst sterben!¡± (You will die!), The thing dropped down onto its stomach and rolled. Tristan had prepared for this. He had trained for this. His grandfather¡¯s lessons resonated through his mind, and he trusted his body¡¯s muscle memory. Running along the torso as it rolled to try and crush him. Unlike before in his training against the puppets and inside of his inner world, he stabbed his blade down into the flesh and sliced as he ran ¨C cutting a gash around the creature¡¯s whole midsection. It roared out in pain and got upright before spinning in a tight, neat circle. Tristan grabbed one of the spines to hold on and saw its wounds regenerating. He slashed at the wing membranes once more, cutting gashes ¨C but the central torso wound healed over. The spin ended and Tristan jumped forward, getting to the spot between the wings. The weak spot. As he began to lift his blade, the head reared up. Tristan grinned and slammed his fist down into the hide, just as he had done with the inner world encounter. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf!¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). The wall sprouted up in front of him and he saw the torrent of flame gush out. It began melting the wall, and Tristan felt the heat all around him. But he had the power of an entire Realm at his command, and he sucked in more essence with his reverse-spinning top-half of his essence crucible to keep himself filled up with the empowering essence. That kept him cool as ice cascaded from all around him and coated his body as he knew the backlash would. More ice to keep me safe. But it was not needed. The flames had no chance to pierce the barrier that Tristan had manifested. Faster than it could melt, it built up further. ¡°Ich bin Tristan Anorox! Drachent?ter! Du wirst hier sterben!¡± (I am Tristan Anorox! Dragonslayer! You will die here!). The dragon¡¯s flame ended, and it looked at him. The eyes had a look that Tristan knew. He had seen it before. In Felicity¡¯s eyes when he held her by the neck upon hunting her down. The look of despair just as when he saw it in the eyes of Steffany, whose mother he had saved at a tragic cost. Tarthorax was terrified. His collar glowed a bright orange and all of the wounds healed over. He tried to lift off, but the ice weighing him down ¨C easily the size of a small house ¨C kept him pinned. Tristan lifted his sword and stabbed down into the weak spot ¨C right between the wings, down through the thick, muscle and flesh. And into the heart. He wrenched the blade back and forth, cutting open a deeper gash as the blood surged upward; thick and hot. The creature¡¯s eyes widened and then dulled to nothing as the light left them. It collapsed onto the ground, and Tristan immediately withdrew his sword, let the essence cease flowing into it as he sheathed it, and made the spell gesture for his grandfather¡¯s secret, family-only spell. He brought the heels of his palms together, putting the right hand on top of the left as he extended both out before him. The fingers, extended into the shape of a mouth with sharp teeth ¨C pointing at each other. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. And lastly, he began to slowly close them as he pushed as much essence as possible into them¡­and said the words he never thought he would get to say. Words that his father had told him he would never get to say, because he was the useless half-breed. ¡°Mighty beast which now lays slain, I take from you what you can no longer use and is mine by right of conquest.¡± From his hands, the icy-blue and silver essence flowed out and covered the whole form of the creature. Tristan saw the dragon corpse fully¡­saturated, for lack of a better word, with his essence. Gold and crimson sparks were stripped from the body and glimmered within the silvery light. Then, as he fully closed his fingers together, clasping them like a dragon¡¯s maw closing on food; the essence surged back up into him. He saw all of it rapidly pull back into his closed hands before shooting down his essence channels and into his essence crucible. He felt full; as if he had just eaten a huge meal. And he felt hot. Very hot. He was gasping for air as he collapsed to his knees. It felt like he was choking, and he put his hands to his neck as he let out a scream of pain. His eyes shut; he could see his essence crucible. It was still silver and icy-blue, but those gold and crimson sparkles were no longer sparkles. The silvery essence flowed back into it, and he had to stop spinning it as he felt ill. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted to puke. Essence sickness? He thought. I need to get rid of it. He spun his crucible fully in a single direction ¨C trying to expel essence as fast as he could. Vent it, just as he had done a few times before. The feeling of sickness and choking faded, but the heat was still there. He writhed on the deceased dragon¡¯s back as he saw his essence crucible become¡­infused. The icy-blue crevices were joined by another, singular crevice that was a perfect line ¨C filled with gold and crimson, flowing liquid. The icy blue one also straightened out and the two lines intersected. It was a beautiful sight, and as the heat faded, Tristan saw a large X across his essence crucible. The silver hue was dominant, but the stripe of gold and crimson, and the stripe of icy blue, were solid and stable. Where they intersected was pure white. Is it as if my crucible is more stable now? He thought. Because I¡¯m not just Winterbloom? I bet if I was just Winterbloom, it would be silver with the blue more dominant. But it¡¯s almost like¡­there¡¯s room to add more stripes? For more dragons? Elements? Then, it struck him. I should be able to use fire elementalism now! I need to get a spell primer for it! And, another thought struck him as he jolted upright. Crap! The blood! He went over to the hole where the heart was still leaking its vital fluid. He gulped and swallowed down the revulsion at what he was about to do¡­as he shoved his face into the sword-hole and began sucking up the blood and swallowing it down. It was hot, goopy, and peppery. Very spicy. He pushed through the pain of eating something far spicier than he was used to eating. His grandfather¡¯s words echoed in his mind, pushing him on in the grotesque action. And, he also regretted not doing this before the spell. ¡°Remember, when you slay a dragon, you first want to drink the blood. Each size and type carry a different level of protection. Wyrm sized is the best you can hope for, as it is the most protective, but there is no harm in drinking more. You have to drink as much as you can. To the point of bursting. Every chance you get. It will strengthen your resilience against their element.¡± Tristan came up for air and took several sucking breaths before going in again and sucking up as much of the vital fluid as he could. Only when it felt like his stomach would burst did he stop and pull back entirely, wiping his face clean as best he could. ¡°Gah! It¡¯s in my eyes!¡± he shouted; mostly in anger at himself. It was as if someone had put pepper into water and thrown it into his face. Something cold was splashed onto him, and it helped ameliorate the heat on his eyes. ¡°You look a mess, Lord Tristan,¡± The Matriarch¡¯s voice said. Tristan squinted through his still-inflamed eyes and saw her in her elfanoid form ¨C injured. Other fairy dragons were around her-flapping with large, scoop-style claws that doused him with clearcool over and over again. Tristan was thankful for the cool deluge. He wanted to drink the cool liquid, but he was too full. Standing up, he let out a belch unintentionally. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he said with a chuckle. The fairy dragons looked aghast at him as they flapped in place, and The Matriarch winced, ¡°You¡­you don¡¯t look so good, Lord Tristan. All covered in boiling blood.¡± ¡°Boiling?¡± Tristan looked back to the heart-hole and saw that steam was escaping. ¡°Oh, wow. That vial of blood was no joke.¡± ¡°You¡­you drank its blood?¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Grandfather¡¯s bloodline is called the dragonslayer bloodline.¡± He hiked a thumb back at his chest, and grinned, proudly. ¡°And I just killed my first dragon.¡±
As the fairy dragons flew back ¨C carrying Tristan and the exhausted Matriarch ¨C he explained how his family¡¯s bloodline worked. ¡°Grandfather made it by killing the Arch Dragon of the Elemental Realm of Fire. In his group of adventurers that went into that Realm, they had a Wizard who could use protective spells.¡± ¡°The term for an Eighth through Tenth Order-capable essence-weaver, yes?¡± The Matriarch asked to clarify. ¡°Correct. So, grandfather got a protection spell cast on him, and then chose to eat the heart of the Arch Dragon, drank its blood in the process, and for good measure tried to eat the meat.¡± ¡°Why?¡± The Matriarch asked, revulsion written on her face. ¡°Superstition. Eating a dragon¡¯s heart supposedly brought great wealth and luck.¡± Tristan sighed with relief as the cooling breeze blew against his face. ¡°Later, he paid a diviner to find out what happened. They couldn¡¯t help, so instead they paid a rejuvenation specialist to examine his body. Turns out, eating an Arch Dragon¡¯s heart and drinking its blood gave him a bloodline; unique to the actions he took to get it.¡± ¡°What about that spell you used?¡± ¡°Anorox family only,¡± Tristan stated. ¡°The only dragonbane spell I know of ¨C I mean aside from the artificed ones in my armor and weapon. Anyways, grandfather learned about his bloodline. And he also learned that the creation of a bloodline comes along with making an essence crucible. So, he developed a spell to fully ¡®eat¡¯ a dragon¡¯s essence.¡± Tristan grinned, ¡°I should be able to use fire elementalism now! Plus, I am very resistant to fire and heat ¨C hence why I could shove my head into its boiling blood.¡± Tristan retreated into his thoughts for a moment as The Matriarch pondered his words. I also have that vial of the fledgling dragon that Felicity got. Elemental Realm of Wind, I think? I didn¡¯t know you could be resistant to wind. What would that even mean? That you can¡¯t feel the breeze? That would be weird. Something to investigate. The Matriarch nodded and looked up at him, ¡°That is an¡­interesting development. What does your crucible look like?¡± Tristan described it, and she shook her head, ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a crucible like that. Zeltana ¨C your progenitor and furthest ancestor ¨C described her crucible as pure silver with growing, blue plant growth cascading up from the base.¡± ¡°The blue line looked kind of like that,¡± Tristan stated. ¡°Before I did the whole dragon consuming thing.¡± ¡°I believe¡­I had said that your crucible may have the potential to surpass even her essence capacity. I think this confirms it. You can actually bypass your heritage restrictions which I have never heard of happening. Granted, I am limited to my experiences here in the Fey Realm.¡± She looked at him quizzically as they landed atop the Queen¡¯s Wood. ¡°How did you create that enormous ice wall at the rift?¡± Tristan described his method as he went over to the alchemy station and grabbed two of the healing elixirs, handing both to her. She quaffed them and then smiled as her wounds were partially healed. Not fully, but well on the mend. He ended with, ¡°It felt incredible! Like I had the entire Realm flowing through me.¡± ¡°Humor me. Let us go to the vault and test something. You may have found a workaround to the conundrum of the locked doors.¡± She frowned, ¡°And do not funnel the ambient essence of the Realm through yourself during your training going forward. You won¡¯t have access to it in the Mortal Realm, or any other Realms you happen to go into.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°I know. I won¡¯t be able to do what I did with spells back there outside of the Fey Realm.¡± But, he thought, knowing that I can do that means that I could do some remarkable essence-weaving here when it comes to imbuing and artifice. I think. First¡­let¡¯s see if I can get into that vault with this method. Chapter 39: Second Vault and Realm knowledge
Tristan turned to where he had set the vial that Felicity had gathered when they left Bhant¡¯s Hold ¨C stealing the blood from his father¡¯s kill. Tristan popped the cork off and slurped down the thick, goopy liquid. He felt a rushing wind blow past his face, and inside his torso he felt a swirl of energy ¨C not cool, like his essence was, but instead motion. A rushing wind akin to a tempest. He smiled and thought, well, it looks like I can drink any dragon blood and drink it down. Note to self, make sure to ask about dragon¡¯s blood whenever I visit an alchemist¡¯s shop. Closing his eyes and visualizing his essence crucible, he saw glimmering, green flecks floating ¨C they were not nearly as prominent as the gold and crimson from drinking the wyrm-sized, Arch dragon vial from his grandfather¡¯s conquest. Looks like drinking wyrm-sized dragon blood is going to provide the best protection against elemental damage, he thought. Still no clue what wind would count as. He turned to The Matriarch, who was regarding him with a curious look. ¡°You are an interesting hybrid, Lord Tristan.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Do you know what wind elementalism is or entails?¡± ¡°Manipulation of the wind,¡± she replied. ¡°Such as sending surging gusts out against foes to bowl them over, or even sharpened, compressed blades of air that slice foes. There are more mundane uses, of course.¡± ¡°Then I would guess this blood of a wind dragon makes me more resilient to the more offensive spells,¡± Tristan replied as he began walking to the center of the Queen¡¯s Wood and descended. The Matriarch was just a step behind him. Wanting to fill the gap of time walking down to the vault, Tristan glanced back at The Matriarch and spoke, ¡°I was able to spin my crucible in two directions at once. The top half was reverse spinning, sucking in essence, while the bottom half did its usual spin and pushed the essence out. Can you tell me more about that?¡± The Matriarch smiled, ¡°Yes. That is a difficult thing for most essence-weavers to do, taking in essence whilst also using it. Normally, let¡¯s say, if you were in the Mortal Realm, you would be using up the essence in your crucible, emptying it like you would a container of water. Then, you would have to wait for it to refill or drink a essence elixir to recover ¨C refilling that vessel. After, you could use it again. But, with the two-direction essence crucible spin, you could spend the essence as you obtain it from that external source. As if you had an open valve on that vessel.¡± They reached the ground floor and descended into the root-filled underground tunnels. Tristan frowned, ¡°Then I don¡¯t see the benefit to being able to spin my crucible both directions unless I¡¯m chugging essence elixirs which I wouldn¡¯t do on a whim. And I bet it would be hard to do in a fight.¡± The Matriarch smiled, ¡°You can use it to train. Spin the crucible the way you would to cast a spell, but let it vent out of you and become ambient essence in the air ¨C which in your case, almost instantly turns to ice. But, with a reverse-spin on the top-half as you described, you could suck in your own ambient essence before that happened. It would most likely accelerate your essence capacity growth and be far more effective than just spinning your crucible while traveling.¡± That does sound useful, Tristan thought. And I suppose if there is a essence heavy environment I find myself in, I could do the same method of using essence while sucking it in. At least I know that I can do it now. Or¡­if there¡¯s something like a dragon that can heal, and I use grandfather¡¯s spell on it¡­I might be able to get a healing spell type ¨C like rejuvenation. The prospect of being able to train faster than before whilst traveling and obtaining more spell types via his family¡¯s unique capability was filling him with an excitement he could barely contain. They arrived at the first vault door ¨C still open ¨C and Tristan knelt, his knees finding the grooves on the floor as he put his hands on it. Alright. Let¡¯s try this. He spun the top of his essence crucible in the ¡®suck¡¯ direction, and the bottom half in the opposite, pushing the essence through his body and into his arms. To his surprise, he was not able to absorb the ambient essence that he felt like a palpable fog. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can funnel the essence of the Realm into this,¡± Tristan stated as he pulled his hands back. The Matriarch clicked her tongue, ¡°Your ancestors must have anticipated someone would try that. It was worth an attempt.¡± Tristan placed his hands back on it, ¡°Let¡¯s see if my current essence capacity is enough.¡± He closed his eyes and envisioned his essence crucible; the brilliant silver crossed by two lines ¨C one icy-blue, and one crimson and gold. He spun it as fast as he could ¨C all in the direction to push the essence out. He directed the flow into his arms, and it was not just cooling like before. It was lukewarm; with little bursts of heat, then cold, interchanging back and forth. The spiral on the door filled up to the brim and slid upward. The Matriarch smiled, ¡°Well done. Let us see what your ancestors left behind.¡± Tristan was tired from the expenditure, but he rapidly reverse-spun his crucible and filled it up again. Standing, he walked into the chamber. It was circular, just like the last one ¨C with a glowing, dangling orb suspended from the root structure above on top of a covered pedestal. To his left, across the pedestal, and to his right were doors with differing numbers of rings. To the left was a door with three rings, to his right, a door with four rings, and across from him was a door with nine rings. The Matriarch followed him in, ¡°Intriguing. It would appear that each door of this vault requires a different essence capacity amount. You have bypassed the one ring and two ring doors.¡± She glanced at him, ¡°Perhaps it relates to your essence capacity? That would be my guess.¡± Tristan was drawn to the pedestal and walked up to it. It was a small root that jutted up before spreading out in a graceful, almost flower-petal surface. A more ornate version of the same object in the prior room. But there was not just a bit of parchment atop it, instead, there was a carved, stone crate. It was fully smooth, save for the slight gaps on the sides which accommodated his fingers. He tried to lift it ¨C but it would not budge with a simple lifting motion. ¡°This is heavy,¡± he muttered as he took up a wider stance, braced his legs, and heaved with all of his might. The stone covering lifted up just enough for him to slide his armored fingers under the gap, and then he was able to shove up to his palm, and eventually his forearm. With a final heave, he was able to wedge his elbow in. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The Matriarch came over and chuckled, ¡°Now what do you plan on doing?¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°I¡¯m gonna keep shoving my arm forward until I can tilt the damned thing over.¡± She laughed and the sound was enchanting, ¡°Or you could ask for help.¡± Tristan let out a grunt as he felt the weight of the stone box on his arm, ¡°Sure, help would be fine.¡± She reached out to touch it and as soon as her fingers touched the object, there was a jolt of green energy that she rapidly recoiled from, hissing in pain. ¡°Damn! That stings.¡± She blew on her fingers and shook them. ¡°Sorry, Lord Tristan. Looks like you¡¯re on your own.¡± Tristan put his other fist on the top of the pedestal and tucked the thumb inside the fingers. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). He spun his crucible a little bit, wanting a steady, small stream ¨C and the ice wall grew; pushing the stone lid up and off of his arm. He poured more essence into it and eventually it toppled backward, slamming on the ground on the opposite side of the pedestal. On the surface, Tristan saw another scroll, and a pair of gloves. The gloves were made of some white tree, with tracing of the icy-blue along in a pattern of branches and roots. The Matriarch looked at the gloves and let out a brief gasp, ¡°Oh, those are Zeltana¡¯s gloves! Part of her armor.¡± She looked between the gloves and Tristan¡¯s hands, ¡°I wonder if they would fit you?¡± Tristan reached for the rolled up parchment and unfurled it, reading the Elvish words in his mind.
Child of the frozen dew and inheritor of the blood renewed, You have grown like a tree with new root soon to blossom at last, and bloom. Your second reward for obtaining might is to grow plants with a light touch of your fingertips, and create new wonders that will eclipse the work of those who came before. Only you will reveal what lies in store. My armor and weapons that will make secure the denizens of the realm once more. Those who become your subjects will proclaim a desire to annex Lost Realms to add to your own. Follow your heart as you make yourself known. The Fey Realm is under your control and I would be remiss to not extoll the virtues that have led you this far. Continue your growth, and shine like a star.
Tristan picked up the gloves and tucked them into his belt. ¡°What does it mean about the annexation of Lost Realms?¡± The Matriarch¡¯s face was a tight, unreadable line. ¡°The Lost Realms are what we would call places that lost their Realm Protector. The¡­anchoring being who helps keep the whole place together. If I, for instance, were to perish, then the Fey Realm would grow unstable until a new Realm Protector took over to stabilize it.¡± She tapped her fingers against her chin, ¡°Imagine, if you will, that I am like the captain of a ship. If the captain dies, the ship is going to be directionless until a new captain takes over. Without a captain for too long the ship is going to crash or go through food stores too quickly. Does that analogy make sense?¡± Tristan nodded as he looked at the other vault doors, quickly reverse-spinning his essence crucible to refill his essence. ¡°My grandfather slew the Arch Dragon called Silthenax who used to rule the Elemental Realm of Fire; but that was fifty years ago.¡± ¡°The most recent one to die was called Amisgur, and there has not been a new captain of that ship in ten years. I would expect the Realm to become a Lost Realm in the next forty years or so.¡± She shrugged, ¡°Some wyrm-sized dragon will take over soon enough, I¡¯m sure.¡± Tristan gestured to the entryway and left the vault, heading up the tree to the boughs as they conversed, ¡°But that still doesn¡¯t tell me what a Lost Realm is¡­or how we could annex it.¡± The Matriarch sighed, ¡°Lost Realms, to use my analogy from before, are ships that crashed into a rocky shoreline. They are irreparable and will eventually decay to nothing. But they can be salvaged. What Zeltana¡¯s scroll describes is the process of grafting a Realm. It increases the size of the active Realm.¡± Tristan nodded and pondered her words. So, if we had a way to locate these Lost Realms, we could make this place bigger. The problem before was too many Elves; hence the Great Exodus. But¡­if the Realm was big enough, then maybe I could bring them back ¨C if they wanted to come back. He glanced back at The Matriarch as they reached the top boughs, ¡°What happens to creatures inside of Lost Realms?¡± ¡°They die.¡± Well, Tristan thought, I can focus on this Realm grafting business later. I have more pressing matters. I need to get stronger, reconvene with Felicity and Obadai Grimtome, and figure out this whole assassin plot. Tristan walked over to the artifice bench, ¡°You have that collar the wyrm was wearing?¡± The Matriarch reached into her storage dimension and pulled out the big collar. It was made of a brass-like metal ¨C a deep, orange hue ¨C with intricate patterns etched into it; but they were just decorative. The object was the size of a horse-drawn cart, and The Matriarch set it down on the ground in the midst of the crafting stations. Tristan knelt and began the preparation for Discern Artifice; grabbing ink, a quill, and the leaf-parchment. After setting that up, he put his left hand on the collar, with the index and middle fingers touching one another, the thumb curled into the palm, the ring finger under that to the center of the palm, and the pinky finger to the outside edge as far as possible. ¡°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).
Collar of Regeneration Regenerate (Seventh) [Rejuvenation] By channeling essence into the collar, the user mends any injury inflicted upon them in the past ten minutes. This will even regrow limbs or appendages.
He handed the paper to The Matriarch, ¡°I think its too big for me to make use of. I entrust this to you.¡± She shifted to her full size and put it on. ¡°It is a little tight,¡± she muttered. But, her neck slimmed down as she shifted her body mass. ¡°Thankfully, that is not an issue for me. But I am curious how this will affect me when I shift back to my elfanoid form.¡± She did so, and the collar clattered to the platform. ¡°Ah, a shame. I will ensure it is kept close by.¡± It vanished into her extradimensional storage space. "I know that some items of artifice change shape to the wearer - perhaps not this one was made with that in mind." Tristan nodded, ¡°And we learned something new about artifice; items made with it won¡¯t change size to suit the wielder.¡± He grabbed the gloves from his belt, walked over to the artifice bench with his supplies, and repeated the spell.
Gloves of the Growth Shaper Plant Shaping (Second) [Flora] By channeling essence into the gloves, the user may mold and shape any plants into a desired form.
Huh, Tristan thought, so that¡¯s how they were able to mold all the rooms and whatnot. He stripped off his gauntlets and the gloves underneath. Then, he tried to wriggle his hands into the new gloves. To his pleasant surprise, they fit perfectly. As if they were made for him. He put the gauntlets back on to make sure they would fit under the metal, protective encasement ¨C and they did. He looked over at The Matriarch who was watching him with an enthused expression. ¡°What?¡± ¡°If you were female, you would be an exact replica of Zeltana. Your height, build ¨C minus the torso and larger thighs ¨C is almost identical. Even the ear length, the eye color¡­if I did not see your prior half-Elven form, and just saw you as you are now, I would have mistaken you for her having mucked up some type of spell.¡± Tristan pulled the gloves off and set them aside, ¡°Well, I¡¯ll take that as a compliment.¡± ¡°Oh, it was meant as one. She was the¡­the best person I knew,¡± The Matriarch replied, wistfully. Tristan stripped off his armor and set it on the artifice counter along with his sword and all his non-underclothing gear. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to take a bath and then get to artificing.¡± Chapter 40: The last three days
Tristan finished cleaning up and went back up to the top boughs to repair his armor. To his surprise and delight, two fairy dragons were just finishing polishing the armor. Thankfully, it had not suffered any indentation, and after thanking the two who went flitting off, he inspected his sword. No nicks or edge rolling, he thought. I guess against dragons, or while I¡¯m pouring essence into it, the blade is a lot sturdier. Moving over to the artifice bench, he looked at the gloves he had identified. Well, the gloves replacing the ones I normally put on under the articulated gauntlets. Going over to the suit of armor, he reached into the gauntlet and pulled out those gloves, swapping them for the Gloves of the Growth Shaper. He set the old, worn leather gloves on the bench. Now¡­decisions. But first, taking stock. Taking off his family seal, and unclipping the two favors, he set out all his equipment in neat rows on the bench and ground in front of it. I should identify what spell the Archon¡¯s favor uses. His eyes went over the king¡¯s favor and continued his line of thought; and see if there is something hidden on that one. His eyes drifted to the greatbow, and that as well. I doubt the weaponsmith I bought the dagger and sheath from would have given me artificed items. Going through the steps of the Discern Artifice spell, he did not find anything already artificed into the greatbow, dagger, sheath, or king¡¯s favor. But the Archon¡¯s favor did have a spell stored in it ¨C which Tristan expected.
Archon¡¯s Favor of Communication Receive Message - Realm (Third) [Communication] This object will vibrate when subjected to the Send Message ¨C Realm spell, and by being held in the hand, the wielder can engage in a conversation with the sender. This will reach any place on the same Realm of existence.
Pulling out a sheet of parchment and quill, he jotted down a list so he could easily plan. He had always liked listing items out ¨C especially when his grandfather had assigned him training tasks. After a few seconds, he had charted out what he wanted to put in words. The Matriarch approached from his side; also having cleaned up and appearing regal once more, minus her still-healing injuries. ¡°A thought occurs, Lord Tristan.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± he replied as he looked at her, standing up from his crouch on the floor. ¡°I do not know what prompted that Incursion, but I would like to know what you were doing in your inner world before I roused you from your meditation.¡± Tristan sighed and put the quill behind his ear, ¡°Well, I was fighting enemies I made up like you said I could. I fought a mercenary, and then thought up the Arch Dragon my grandfather described fighting.¡± The Matriarch had a look of consternation writ upon her visage. ¡°I¡­hmm¡­strange. And you were not¡­¡± she shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t think of why, but I know that the two events must be connected somehow. You were not doing the reverse-spin and regular-spin of your crucible, correct?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Just the breathing exercise you taught me.¡± ¡°Then you were not connected to the realm as when you performed such a feat at the rift itself. It must just be a coincidence.¡± She walked over to look at his list, then glanced at the gear arrayed before him. ¡°Well, the sheath is not very high quality; I can tell you that much. It won¡¯t be able to be artificed.¡± Tristan sighed and scratched that off the list with the quill. ¡°I have some items well-crafted enough to be useable in artifice.¡± He looked over at The Matriarch, ¡°Unless some of those practice weapons, or even real weapons down there, are crafted exceptionally well.¡± ¡°Not as well as Mortal Realm implements, I am afraid,¡± she replied. ¡°Most of those were wrought by hands using the same Plant Shaping spell you have in those gloves. They are not truly crafted.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Tristan said as he crossed his arms and looked at his gear, ¡°I need to figure out what spells I am going to put in the King¡¯s Favor, the dagger, and the greatbow.¡± ¡°May I suggest something?¡± ¡°Go ahead,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°For the King¡¯s Favor, put the Command enchantment spell upon it. In the event you must return it, you can explain to the king what change you have wrought, and he will thank you all the more.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°A wise decision.¡± ¡°And you still have those primers to read,¡± The Matriarch added. ¡°Yes. Illusion, Flora, Enchantment; and that would cover all of the First Order spells.¡± ¡°Forgive me, Lord Tristan, but why would you not look into the higher Order as well?¡± Tristan chuckled, ¡°Grandfather¡¯s words. I should master the basics before moving on to something more complex. I want to fully memorize and have the First Order spells in those primers all mastered before moving on. They might contain up to Third Order, but my grandfather stressed that the person who masters the lowest difficulty of an art before moving beyond it will be well prepared in any situation.¡± ¡°Strange,¡± The Matriarch said as she crossed her arms. ¡°You have the essence capacity for higher Order spells ¨C the vault doors are evidence of that. And your inner world should have some type of indication as well. Most essence-weavers would pursue the higher Order spells as soon as possible.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not most essence-weavers,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°I¡¯m¡­me. Methodical, and I take my training seriously. I don¡¯t want any shortcuts to power-¡± ¡°Minus the whole eating dragon¡¯s essence thing.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Right, except for that.¡± He set the parchment and quill down before heading over to the primers. ¡°I suppose I should see what other options I have before putting spells into items. I can always strip out the artifice later on to replace the spells.¡± He sat down on one of the cushions as The Matriarch departed, and a group of fairy dragons flew by, asking briefly if Tristan needed anything. ¡°Some clearcool, thank you,¡± Tristan said as they flew off to fulfill his request. Grabbing the primer on enchantment, he flipped through the book until he came upon the basic information section. It was written in terse, straightforward language that left no room for doubt that the author was some type of true scholar who only cared about the craft itself ¨C not flowery or poetic language.
Welcome to your primer on enchantment. One of the more dangerous spell types due to its prevalence towards ill intent. Commands come in several types as listed below: The more out-of-character an enchantment spell is, the easier it is for them to resist or shake off. All enchantment spells come with the following downsides: As with most primers, this tome contains a few spells from First through Third Order.
Tristan flipped past the First Order spell Command, as The Matriarch had already written down instructions for that in Elvish. Note to self; practice that on willing fairy dragons here, so I can get it memorized. He flipped through and found that the only spells contained within were differing levels of Command, which just increased the number of words that could be used in a single sentence of an enchantment spell. I would bet there are more out there, Tristan thought as he shut the primer. But this Command, and the higher Order versions, are just the easiest to use. He was disappointed that he did not find any type of defense against enchantment within the pages. He raised his voice and yelled out, ¡°Matriarch? Do you have a minute?¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. A few seconds later he heard flapping, and she flew up to the edge of the platform, clasping on with her fore-paw-claws and resting her head on the platform, ¡°Yes, Lord Tristan?¡± ¡°Are there any enchantment protection spells?¡± She shook her head, ¡°None that I know of. We fairy dragons have innate spells for invisibility, shapeshifting ¨C with size increases on what we can turn into based upon our essence capacity ¨C and the extradimensional storage space only we can access. The only spell types we can use are illusion and enchantment, with some of my children gaining other spell types depending on their ¡®pod-birth¡¯ timing. I, myself, have divination as a spell type.¡± Tristan sighed once more and put the primer back into the bookshelf. ¡°What about other enchantment spells? This only has Command, Twice Command, and Thrice Command.¡± She scoffed, ¡°Fwah, a beginner primer. I will work on transcribing a tome with all the enchantment spells I know of. And I shall do the same for illusion ¨C but the tasks will take some time.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Tristan replied as he went for the illusion primer. ¡°Thank you. I will see you on the morrow for our training.¡± She nodded and let go of the platform, diving back and out of sight. Tristan cracked open the primer on illusion. It was written in the same gruff, no-nonsense fashion as the enchantment primer.
Welcome to your primer on illusion. Illusion alters senses. The senses in order of easiest to most difficult to trick are below, along with the Order of the spell required to trick said senses. All illusion spells come with the following downside: Unlike most primers, this tome only contains First and Second Order spells.
Tristan saw the familiar-to-him Disguise Form spell, but no mention of Blended Body that Felicity had taught him. There must be so much knowledge out there, he thought. At least The Matriarch is going to work on two tomes for me for illusion and enchantment. Let¡¯s see what else is in here.
Minor Illusion (First) Spell Phrase: ¡°Je souhaite modifier l''apparence de cet objet. Le faire correspondre ¨¤ la vision que j''ai dans mon esprit.¡± (I desire to change the appearance of this object. Shift it to the vision within my mind.). Spell Gesture: Place your hands together in front of your chest, tucking them both into your sternum so that the thumbs are along the chest itself, and the elbows are propped out to the sides. Keep all of the fingers together. Other Notes: The effective range of the spell is ten feet from the user. The size of the object that can have its appearance altered is no larger than what can fit inside of a five-foot by five-foot cube. Make sure you envision what you want.
¡°That¡¯s an easy spell,¡± Tristan muttered. ¡°The gesture isn¡¯t even that complex. One more primer to go.¡± He flipped open the primer on Flora, and to his dismay found that it only had the First Order spell Invoke Growth which he already knew. And I don¡¯t want to move on to Second Order until I¡¯ve mastered all the First Order ones at my disposal. It¡¯s a risk, sure, not going for more powerful spells faster¡­but I want to follow grandfather¡¯s advice. Master the easy stuff before going for the harder stuff. The words of the warning that accompanied that lesson echoed through Tristan¡¯s ears as he stood up and went to the artifice bench and began preparing to artifice the last few items he had at his disposal. ¡°People who rush too fast, like your father with his desire to adventure at a younger age, or your sister with her courtly intrigue ¨C they lose out on the skill that comes with trained practice. If you rush too quickly, you will be more likely to make mistakes. Not only that, but you will have something all of them will lack. Confidence. In spite of the harshest of odds, you will have the confidence that you have mastered everything you know. Focus on mastery. And don¡¯t reach beyond that mastery until you are ready for it.¡± He took in a breath and spun his essence crucible as he performed the spell gesture for Investiture of Artifice, placing his hands on either side of the dagger. Incanting the spell, he rapidly followed up with Minor Illusion. There was a glow of silvery light, and he felt his essence drain from the two spells. But, it was done, and he set the dagger aside. Next came the King¡¯s Favor. He performed the same set of gestures for Investiture of Artifice, then cast the spell Command. Once it glowed a silvery hue, he set that aside as well. Last came the Greatbow, and he once more used Investiture of Artifice, but this one he wanted something special and had no clue how it would work in practice. Casting Frost Flurry, he saw the silvery light appear and then vanish as the other items had. Grabbing two arrows, he walked over to the edge of the platform and took aim at a knot in a tree a decent distance from the Queen¡¯s Wood. As he nocked the arrow and pulled the string back, he could feel the tension as he had during his practice that morning. Loosing the shaft, he saw it impact the knot-hole. Right. That is as expected. Next, he tried pulling the string back, but as he did so he poured essence into the weapon. He saw a spike of ice appear on the bowstring and grown in length and size as he drew it back. When he reached full draw, it was easily the size of a lance. Letting loose, he saw it fly down and embed itself into the tree boring a huge hole. Several fairy dragons flew over to investigate the odd noises. Tristan waved them off, ¡°Move! I want to try something!¡± They did as he ordered. Good, he thought, I can create projectiles of ice. Taking aim at the horizon, he let loose and saw that after one-hundred feet the arrow of pure ice began to drop. Also as expected. Last, he drew back the second regular arrow, channeling essence as he did so. Instead of forming a projectile of ice, the arrow glowed with the icy-blue energy. Oh, that is interesting. He took aim at an upward angle ¨C his maximum range with the bow ¨C and let fly. The arrow flew off into the distance, and his enhanced Elven eyes were able to track it as it descended in an arc, impacted a tree ¨C and exploded in a hail of ice and frost ¨C shredding nearby branches. One of the fairy dragons flew up to him, ¡°The fuck you doing?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Tristan asked as he lowered the bow. ¡°Blowing up holes in the forest!¡± ¡°Oh¡­testing.¡± The creature made a frustrated noise, ¡°Hmph! Some new lordling, thinking he can do whatever he wants to the Fey Realm.¡± Tristan walked back to the artifice bench and set the bow down, ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t know it would do that.¡± The fairy dragon flew off, and he descended the tree spire towards his quarters. But I was hoping that is how it worked. He got to his room and while several fairy dragons brought in a hot meal of freshly roasted starberries and filled the tub, he pointed his hand at one of the walls. A thought hit him. I wonder if for some spells the intent also counts. I was hoping that the icy missile would explode; but is it just because I used a real arrow and the stored spell? Or was it my intent? Alright. Let¡¯s try casting a tiny version of the spell, but with shattering projectiles. ¡°Ich beschw?re die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen.¡± (I summon forth the fury of ice and frost: form shards that will pierce and slash my target). He only held the essence until he had a quill-sized projectile and let it fire. The shaft impacted, quivered for a second, then shattered ¨C fragments shooting out in all directions. Huh. So for that offensive spell, at least, intent plays a role. And with the artificed version on the bow, I just bypassed the one-hundred-foot range. He settled into the hot bath with a smile on his lips.
The next three days were a blur. He continued his daily routine with The Matriarch, growing ever better with the maul. His skill with his sword, the bow, and the dagger progressed ever-so-slightly, but the true training for those came from his inner world. Of highest priority was practicing the various First Order spells at his disposal. He practiced those in the inner world over and over until he could do them without any issue. And, keeping an eye on the tree at the center, he saw that he was past the second ring and about a third of the way to the third ring ¨C but the distance was further. Sort of like my progression is going to be more arduous as I continue to build my essence capacity, he thought. But the fact that Second Order spells now ¨C at least, if the tree inside the inner world was anything to go by ¨C filled him with an excitement and enthusiasm he had not felt in a long while. Because he wanted to hold off on the Second and Third Order spells contained in the primer ¨C desiring to follow his grandfather¡¯s instructions and master his current capabilities, he spent a large portion of the day meditating in his inner world. And, despite envisioning and fighting many, many more dragons of varying sizes inside that space, another incursion did not occur. The evenings were spent learning about Elven culture. Song, dance, and poetry. Tristan was not the most gifted with either song or poetry but he picked up the dances quickly enough and found himself having quite the enjoyable time. At night, he would visit the deep, bubbling pit of sap near the roots of the tree that he had placed his mother¡¯s corpse in. He spoke softly, talking to it as if he was talking at her grave, and shared with her all of the day¡¯s events. He could swear there was a hint of some response from the bubbling sap, the rustle of the sparse leaves in the small space as he exhaled¡­but he never made any words out. The action of sharing what was going on in his life with his mother, if only with her memory, filled him up with emotion. The closest he would ever be to sharing with her all of the wonders he was learning about and the amazing new reality he found himself living day to day.
The five days of his time in the Fey Realm came to a close. The final morning he woke up, ate, drank some refreshing clearcool, and got his equipment from the top boughs. His underclothes that were freshly laundered and made from the strandvine in the forests nearby by fairy dragon weavers. The padding that went on before the armor, his new gloves, his trusty boots with the Insulating Socks, and then the other pieces like the greaves and epaulets. Affixing his sword belt to his waist, he made sure to string the Essence-Seeking Lantern through, keeping it affixed with his chain. It had grown used to not only the essence of the Realm, but his as well, and was glittering with a little bit of starlight, but not wildly spinning out of control. Making sure his ring was in place, he put the various favors of the Archon and the King back into his family crest before putting it around his neck and slipping it under his armor. The dagger joined the sword on the belt, the cloak over his shoulder, the bow on his back, and the quiver of arrows on the opposite hip of his sword and knife. As he was just getting the boxes filled with vials of clearcool, essence, and healing elixir together, The Matriarch flew up in her elfanoid form with the wings sprouted from her back. ¡°Lord Tristan, allow me.¡± She hefted two of the boxes and flapped up. Her legs transformed into claws, and she lifted him off of the top boughs and brought him back to the dirt circle in front of the Queen¡¯s Wood. The stone pillar from the cave had been removed, and it was once more a clear space. Setting him down, she placed the boxes on the ground. ¡°You travel safely, Lord Tristan.¡± This was echoed by the surrounding fairy dragons. Tristan dipped his head in a bow in return, ¡°Thank you for everything, Matriarch. I plan on coming back to sleep here each evening.¡± ¡°We will await your pleasure,¡± she replied as she reverted to her full-sized, fairy dragon form. Tristan ensured the items he planned to take were all within the circle and began to spin his crucible, channeling essence. The world turned white, and he was inside the cave he had departed from. Felicity was lying on the ground and jumped up to her feet. ¡°About time!¡± she shouted. Chapter 41: A grandfather’s return
Tristan smiled at Felicity, ¡°How have you been.¡± She pouted and frowned, ¡°It has been h-o-r-r-i-b-l-e! I was investigating more about the assassins, and I saw a ton of people being killed. All of them were a bit Winterbloom Elf.¡± ¡°What?¡± Tristan asked as he felt his heart seize up in horror. ¡°How many?¡± ¡°Oh, dozens, easily. But none of them were half-Winterbloom like you. In fact, most were such little Winterbloom that they were practically fully Human.¡± Tristan was speechless, ¡°I¡­¡± he gestured to the boxes. Felicity flew over to them, opened the tops, and nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll put these away.¡± She opened her storage dimension and shoved the elixirs inside. The inside of the space was also full of various knick-knacks and small coin pouches. Tristan finally found his voice again, ¡°How many did you see die?¡± ¡°Over thirty. Once I found out what was happening, I got to work finding everyone I could sniff out with your blood. But that is a stinky city.¡± Tristan felt the Archon¡¯s favor vibrating against his chest, scrabbled for the item around his neck, and poured some essence into it as he held it. ¡°Hello.¡± ¡°Good. You are back. Developments in the capital have grown dire.¡± ¡°I heard,¡± Tristan replied as he glanced at a still-annoyed Felicity. ¡°My fairy dragon companion advised me that Winterbloom-blooded half-breeds are being assassinated.¡± ¡°We had a series of killings done by the same assassins that I divined from the killing of Archon Farsight. They were all half-breed, yes, but some of them had very little Elven blood. Yet you say your companion determined they were of your bloodline?¡± ¡°Correct. She is an excellent companion.¡± This seemed to elicit a happy noise from Felicity. ¡°Shit. That changes things entirely. Then I don¡¯t think the assassins were paid for by your father. Perhaps he gave them a hint that your mother was Winterbloom, if he was involved at all. But it seems to me that someone is hunting down your kind.¡± ¡°Not just my kind,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Winterbloom, specifically. The question is¡­why?¡± ¡°I do not know. Ancient tomes in the forbidden archives ¨C as the line of kings here has restricted all non-Human heritage knowledge ¨C that the Winterbloom were an ancient elven bloodline. Perhaps they seek to ensure your bloodline is extinct. It would corroborate my divinations.¡± ¡°Which showed you what?¡± ¡°Elves have been dying in swathes across the Mortal Realm. Now, I need to do another divination to see if it is specifically Winterbloom-bloodline elves. Our conversation time runs short. Will you be able to receive my spell tomorrow morning?¡± ¡°Yes, I can do that.¡± ¡°Good. Make your way back to the capital in disguise, under illusion, however you need to. Your grandfather Hurvun is back.¡± ¡°Pass word to him! Please, tell him to go to our manor estate, and I¡¯ll find him there.¡± ¡°I will do so. I must go. Our spell is just about out-¡± he was cut off as the spell faded. Tristan put the amulet inside his armor and gestured to his head, ¡°Come on. We have to go.¡± Spinning his crucible and channeling the essence flow into his amulet, he assumed his half-elf disguise. Felicity flapped up to his head and nestled on his skull. ¡°Your ears got longer,¡± she said with some slight amusement. She began playing with them with her paws, batting them a little as a cat would bat at a toy. Tristan just ignored it and made his way out of the cave. He immediately made for the nearest village. The entire walk he filled Felicity in on his time in the Fey Realm, including going into detail about the intrusion from the Elemental Realm of Fire. As the sun to the apex of noon they arrived in the small village. ¡°Wow! You really grew a lot then,¡± she said after he went quiet upon entering the village proper. ¡°Mhmm,¡± he replied, not wanting to be seen talking to himself. ¡°And you got really skilled with these spells you¡¯ve been practicing with!¡± Tristan arrived at a farm house that had a few nags he could see in a small field near the house. He knocked, and was greeted by a middle-aged woman holding a child in her arms, ¡°Can I help you?¡± she asked. ¡°Hi. How much for your horse?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have to ask my husband-¡± Tristan fished around in his coin pouch and pulled out fifty gold coins, ¡°Please. It is urgent.¡± She nodded, ¡°Well, you can take Netty. She¡¯s the brown one. Older of the two, not much good for hauling goods to market ¨C but she¡¯ll get you where you want. There¡¯s an old saddle in the stable; it¡¯s not well oiled, but it is her size.¡± She held out her hand, and the money was exchanged before she shut the door. Tristan went to the small field, vaulted the fence, and walked up to the old, brown horse. This horse won¡¯t be fast, but it will be better than walking. He clicked his tongue, and she raised her head, letting out a whinny. He raised his hands and approached slowly, ¡°Easy, girl. Come, Netty, we need to go.¡± To his surprise, she trotted right over to him and dipped her head. Felicity chuckled, ¡°Even the dumb beast recognizes a Fey Lord when she sees one.¡± The horse must have understood to some extent, be cause she looked right above Tristan¡¯s head and let out a braying whinny. Felicity frowned, ¡°Yeah? And you can go choke on a carrot!¡± Tristan glanced up at Felicity, ¡°Can you talk to her?¡± ¡°Not really. Horses aren¡¯t very intelligent. A little bit, but not much. However, creatures from the Fey Realm, such as you and I, well, we have a way with animals.¡± The horse stomped her foot in agreement, and trotted in front of Tristan to head to the stables. Following the nag, Tristan saw her grab the saddle with her teeth off of a peg, drop it on the ground, and then a saddle blanket that she brought over to Tristan. ¡°Okay, girl,¡± Tristan said softly as he pet her forehead with little scratches. ¡°Let¡¯s get you saddled up.¡± The task was quickly done, and he led her to the gate, opened it, led her through, closed it, and then mounted up. He had chosen to ignore the bit and bridle. If she can understand me and feels the need to follow my commands, I don¡¯t want to handle her like that. ¡°Netty, let¡¯s go at as fast of a pace as you are comfortable maintaining.¡± She let out a snort and began trotting forward at about triple Tristan¡¯s walking speed. Much faster to get to the capital this way, he thought. It would not take a day and a half travel at this speed ¨C he would be at the capital just after nightfall. Thankfully, this small, mountainous region was close to Bhant¡¯s Holdfast, and since he was going to the estate he would most likely arrive just before the fifth moon rose. During the trip, he kept his eyes open and scanned the few groups of travelers for any sign of shady individuals who could be these assassins. The same went for The Black Company, as Tristan was sure that the group he had beaten away would have spread word about their embarrassment and defeat at his hands. The few patrols he did spot from far off in the distance were easy enough to get around ¨C he would simply just use his amulet once more and masquerade as an elderly farmer. This enabled him to pass without issue. But, if he had gotten close, or if they had lain hands on him, the illusion would have been easy to see through as his armor well exceeded the confines of the phantom appearance, and if the armor touched something, would reveal some nature of the illusionary covering. He made it to the Anorox family estate a few hours after nightfall. Glancing up at the five moons, he was able to determine the date. Thirty-fourth of Shine Season. Damn, this year is going fast. It had been seven days since he had seen the whole of the townhouse staff slaughtered, performed his midnight ride to escape the capital, and the time in the Fey Realm. All of that had let him push aside the grim reality of what he had witnessed. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. But now, with the approach to the site of the slaughter he witnessed at the manor so close, all the memories of the pre-Fey Realm stay flooded back to him, and he felt himself feeling immense sorrow. ¡°Felicity,¡± he whispered just loud enough for her to hear him. She leaned her head over, ¡°Hmm?¡± Tristan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, ¡°Thanks for being a friend.¡± ¡°Well¡­hmph. You¡¯re welcome, I guess.¡± She began making little claw-biscuits on his head. Tristan sighed and rode the nag up to the gates. Thankfully, the Black Company mercenaries were gone, and instead a few of the actual soldiers, members of the standing army of the capital, stood at attention. Tristan fished out his symbol and held it up, ¡°I am Tristan Anorox.¡± The two men looked up at him with suspicion, and four more came out from the nearby guard house. One with a slight plume on his helm spat out the side of his mouth, ¡°I heard that the half-breed went and became full-Elf.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°You are not incorrect. Now, let me through.¡± ¡°And if we don¡¯t?¡± Tristan glowered at the man and let his essence crucible spin as he vented ice into the surrounding air ¨C focusing on letting it vent out of his upper body as to not upset his mount. The men each went for weapons, and Tristan stopped the spin of his crucible. ¡°Let me pass, or else I will freeze you lot just like I froze the steps of the Blackspire.¡± The men looked at the commander who hefted his pike back up to a relaxed position, ¡°Let him through. I¡¯m sure the old man and his son can deal with him if he gets out of control.¡± Tristan glared at the man, ¡°My father is here?¡± ¡°Aye, the mighty hero and dragonslayer. Not like you, you mongrel pup bastard.¡± Tristan just patted Netty on the neck and whispered, ¡°Go ahead, I¡¯ve got a nice set of stables for you to stay in.¡± That was enough goading to get her to move past the armored men who did clear a way for him. After getting her settled at the stables on the edge of the estate, he began going towards the main house. But a figure was standing on the steps. And he recognized the silhouette instantly. Fawkes Anorox, his father. ¡°Move aside, I¡¯m here to see grandfather, not you.¡± Fawkes scowled at his half-breed son, ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re here. And I do not care. You are not welcome at this estate.¡± Tristan kept walking forward nonetheless, ¡°Felicity,¡± he whispered, ¡°Be ready to fly up and slice his fucking eyes like that one mercenary.¡± ¡°With pleasure,¡± she said with a maniacal giggle as she flew off and perched above the man on one of the support beams of the covered entryway, hanging upside-down like a bat. Fawkes took a step forward, and his hand went to the large blade on his back, but a gruff, barking, commanding voice ordered him. ¡°Stop! This instant!¡± He let the pommel of the sword go as he was shoved aside. Coming through the doorway was Tristan¡¯s grandfather. The man that he saw as an actual father. The man who raised him. ¡°My boy Tristan!¡± Hurvun shouted with joy. ¡°I heard you¡¯d gone and made yourself a full elf somehow.¡± Tristan let the illusion drop and grinned, feeling an intense joy in his heard. ¡°Grandfather!¡± he ran forward and embraced the man, feeling a joy and happiness at seeing him. ¡°It¡¯s been two years,¡± he said through tears of joy, mixed with sorrow as he felt safe in his grandfather¡¯s arms, and felt like he could grieve and share his deepest emotions with his surrogate father figure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry. People die-¡± His grandfather ran a hand through the hair on the back of his head as he hugged him close. ¡°There, there, my boy. Archon Grimtome filled me in upon my return.¡± He pulled back and chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it. All of it. Later, though.¡± The man was not a pretty man by any means; he was grizzled and gruff, with a shaved-bald head since it would not grow much save for small patches. A lengthy beard that was braided into a single cord and adorned with dragon¡¯s teeth and small scales. The warm, green eyes seemed filled with a delight all their own aside from his chuckle of joy. ¡°Look at you! Fully armored up with your dragonslayer regalia!¡± ¡°Thanks, grandfather.¡± ¡°Come! Come in! We have so much to discuss!¡± Hurvun turned to the door and led Tristan up the steps. Tristan saw his father¡¯s eyes glaring, but his face was held in-check with whatever emotions that would have normally been writ there held back. Felicity flapped down and landed atop Tristan¡¯s head. Tristan smiled once he entered the warmly lit house, but that light was dashed as soon as he remembered the pile of bodies where he was now walking. ¡°Grandfather, we have to talk. Alone.¡± ¡°Of course, my boy.¡± Hurvun chuckled and tapped Tristan¡¯s elongated ear, ¡°You look a lot more like your mother.¡± ¡°That¡¯s part of what we need to talk about.¡± Tristan spared a glance back at his father, who now that Hurvun¡¯s back was turn was fuming with visible hatred at Tristan. ¡°I refuse to stay here with this non-Human filth.¡± Fawkes turned and left the manor house, slamming the door shut behind him. Hurvun sighed and let go of Tristan as he went to the first-floor study. ¡°I am sorry, Tristan, that your father does not love you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t hold any love for the man. As far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯re my father.¡± Hurvun chuckled, ¡°That¡¯s fine of you to say. Come! Sit, and let us talk.¡± He sat down next to a roaring fireplace. Tristan cleared his throat, went to the doors, shut them, and then sat opposite his grandfather on a sumptuous couch. ¡°Grandfather, I¡¯d like you to meet someone. Felicity? Drop the invisibility.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± she asked, unable to be heard by Hurvun. Tristan nodded, and she sighed, ¡°Fine.¡± She appeared atop his head, hopped down to the couch, and sat on her hind legs much like a dog would. ¡°You have the privilege of meeting me, Felicity Glimmerwing! The amazing fairy dragon princess!¡± Tristan shot her a sideways glance, and sighed, ¡°Grandfather, this is my companion.¡± Hurvun stroked his beard, ¡°Interesting. I¡¯ve never seen a fairy dragon before. There is a story here.¡± Tristan nodded and slowly spun his essence crucible and pushed the essence into his ring. He spent the next hour filling in his grandfather on everything he had experienced, encountered, and come across. Hurvun kept a solid, stoney stare on Tristan as the young dragonslayer spoke, asking a few clarifying questions here and there. At the end of the hour, Tristan stood up and walked over to his grandfather, Felicity flapping up to perch on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯d like to show you the Fey Realm, grandfather.¡± The man cracked a smile and stood up, clasping Tristan¡¯s hand, ¡°Let us see this magnificent place you describe.¡± Tristan pushed the last of the essence needed into the ring and in a flash of white they were standing in the dirt circle. His grandfather took in a gasp of breath as he stared up at the enormous tree. Felicity flew off, ¡°Moooom! We have a guest!¡± she flapped out of sight. Fairy dragons began swarming over, asking Tristan if he needed anything, and he waved them away. ¡°Thanks, but no. I¡¯m just showing my grandfather here the place. Come on, grandfather, I want to show you this Realm from the top boughs.¡± His grandfather was a jovial individual, but he looked extremely excited. ¡°Lead the way!¡± The ascent up the tree was rapid, and grandfather Hurvun gasped in awe as they reached the topmost boughs. ¡°Every time I enter a new Realm,¡± he muttered, ¡°It takes my breath away.¡± There was an enormous gust of air and both men looked up as The Matriarch landed on the platform before shifting to her elfanoid form and bowing to Tristan, ¡°Lord Tristan, you are back later. I assume this is the man you spoke so highly of?¡± Tristan smiled broadly, ¡°Yes, this is my grandfather, Hurvun.¡± His grandfather walked forward and knelt, ¡°A pleasure, Realm Protector. Forgive me, I believed that fairy dragons were like the dragons of the other Realms, but clearly, I was mistaken. You do not have the hunt-urge about you.¡± She looked up at Tristan who just shrugged, and then she plastered a smile on her face. ¡°We shall prepare a chamber for you, if you wish to stay the night.¡± Hurvun stood up, ¡°I would like that, thank you. Your hospitality is most appreciated.¡± He turned to Tristan as The Matriarch walked away, ¡°She¡¯s a nice lady.¡± ¡°You mentioned hunt-urge. What is that?¡± ¡°Ah, you wouldn¡¯t know unless you fought a drag-¡± ¡°I did,¡± Tristan interrupted. ¡°Fire Realm adult. Your training was invaluable, but I would have died if not for my newfound essence-weaving.¡± The man¡¯s eyes lit up with glee, ¡°Ah, you are capable! That is wonderful! You are truly the true heir of my bloodline. I doubted you would form an essence crucible on your own, and that I would have to force you to chug down essence potions or elixirs, like with your half-siblings and father.¡± ¡°This Realm gave me mine,¡± Tristan replied as he touched his long, pointed ears that swept behind his hair. ¡°Along with pushing aside all of father¡¯s heritage.¡± Hurvun looked at him, ¡°When you fought that dragon, did you have a feeling like you had to have it? That you had to kill it?¡± Tristan nodded, and Hurvun smiled, ¡°That feeling you experienced is the hunt-urge." ¡°Huh. Okay, well, that is good to know,¡± Tristan muttered. Hurvun looked out over the landscape surrounding them, ¡°I don¡¯t know why you would ever want to leave this place. It is truly astounding.¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°You know why.¡± ¡°Yes, I do. The assassins who slew your mother. The ones who seem to be slaying Elf-blooded across all of Bhant¡¯s Holdfast.¡± He looked to Tristan with a sad expression, ¡°I viewed her like my own daughter, you know. The daughter I never had. A good child, who truly loved her children. I mean, your father¡¯s first wife was a good enough woman¡­but she was not filled with the same warmth and joy.¡± The man chuckled, ¡°Which, considering your mother¡¯s icy stare, is quite the opposite.¡± He walked over to Tristan and put a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Do you mind taking me to where you lay her to rest? I would like to pay my respects.¡± Tristan gulped down the knot that had formed in his throat, nodded, and led the way down the tree to the sap pit. Hurvun cleared his throat and spoke softly, ¡°Thank you Lilliane, for being such a good mother to your child. Thank you for being the daughter I never had. I hope you find peace, here, where your people came from.¡± Once more, Tristan swore he could feel some type of light breeze, very faint, that carried some words ¨C but he could not discern what they said, or even if it was words. Placing a hand on his grandfather¡¯s shoulder, he gave it a squeeze, ¡°Come, I want to show you some of the culture I¡¯ve been learning about.¡±
The two were up most of the night into the wee hours of the morning as the various fairy dragon ensemble struck up a tune and played the cultural music of the Winterbloom, and Hurvun seemed to enjoy the bawdy humor of the fairy dragons quite a bit. When the sun finally began to rise in the green-hued skies, Tristan led him to the circle of dirt, Felicity landed on his head, and he returned them to The Mortal Realm. They both appeared in the study, and Hurvun chuckled before pulling Tristan in for a hug, ¡°Thank you for sharing that with me.¡± Tristan returned the squeeze, ¡°Of course. I wouldn¡¯t want to share the experience with anyone else.¡± Felicity cleared her throat. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m h-u-n-g-r-y.¡± Hurvun cracked a smile, ¡°I could go for some bacon. How about you, boy?¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°Meat never agreed with me.¡± ¡°Ah, right. Well, I want a slab of bacon, a bunch of eggs, and whatever else the chefs can cook up! Come! We¡¯ll find something for you to eat yet!¡± Chapter 42: A new mission
Tristan was mid-breakfast when his amulet began vibrating. Pulling it out from under his armor, he poured some essence into it as he gently spun his crucible. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± he said, swallowing down a bite. His grandfather glanced over at him, but seemingly understood what was going on as he pulled out his own family sigil which also had the Archon¡¯s favor clipped into the bottom. ¡°I did determine with a very essence-intensive divinity spell that the Winterbloom bloodline¡­I¡¯m sorry to tell you this¡­but they are all dead.¡± Tristan dropped his fork into the small herb salad topped with sliced, hardboiled eggs. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You heard me. I checked with two colleagues to make sure my divination spell was not being interfered with by Logos, the Realm Protector of the Thought Realm. I am sorry¡­this must be devastating.¡± ¡°A whole bloodline,¡± Tristan whispered. ¡°Every Winterbloom in the Mortal Realm?¡± ¡°Every one of them. Granted, there were only a few hundred of your bloodline ¨C mostly in the capital cities, oddly enough ¨C but I cast a Twelfth Order spell to confirm after receiving my colleagues¡¯ reports. You are the last Winterbloom Elf.¡± ¡°Why would assassins go after an entire bloodline of Elves?!¡± he said, feeling an outrage and despair at the same time. ¡°Is there something special about your bloodline?¡± Then, it struck Tristan. ¡°We¡­we are naturally authoritative, in some way. Other Elves, it seems like, have to obey the Winterbloom bloodline¡¯s commands.¡± ¡°I will do more digging, but a theory I have is that, perhaps, these assassins know of this capability and do not wish it to manifest. If that is the case, then the only logical group would be other elves who do not wish to be bound by this. Which is strange, because thus far the assassins have been of various races.¡± ¡°But that means father wasn¡¯t involved.¡± ¡°Possibly. He could be involved somehow; perhaps revealing to this group of similarly clothed killers that a Winterbloom elf resided in his household. I¡¯ve heard rumors but haven¡¯t investigated them as I do not have a clear lead like I do with you, that other prominent bloodlines are being hunted down. This could be a wider effort to cull certain bloodlines, but as to what purpose I could only conjecture. I will explore these theories. I must go, our time is about u-¡± he cut off. Tristan sighed and put his amulet down, but then his grandfather held up his amulet and engaged in a brief conversation that Tristan did not listen to, as he slowly went over his salad, moving bits of the leafy vegetables around with his fork. Glancing sideways at Felicity, she had shoved four hardboiled eggs in her mouth and looked quite ridiculous, eliciting a chuckle from Tristan as he reached over and gave her a scratch between the antlers. His grandfather cleared his throat, and Tristan looked up at the patriarch of the family. ¡°Tristan¡­how would you feel about heading out on a real dragon hunt?¡± Tristan smiled a rueful smile, ¡°I¡¯ve already hunted one.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯ve killed one. I mean a real hunt. Going out into the wilds to track down the beast. You haven¡¯t done that yet ¨C and no, hunting this charming, little Felicity does not count.¡± Felicity nodded her head and swallowed down the eggs. ¡°It would be good practice, Tristan.¡± He looked up at his grandfather with a longing look, ¡°I wanted to spend some time here with you.¡± The man chuckled, ¡°Who said you would be going alone?¡± he lifted his mug and gave Tristan a wink. ¡°The Archon will have a messenger deliver the orders soon enough. It¡¯ll be you and me, out on the open road, just like I did with Bertram for his first dragon hunt, and your father for his.¡± Tristan felt the trepidation at the grim implication of the Archon¡¯s earlier report wash away at the prospect of going out on the road with his grandfather, something he had never done. ¡°When can we leave?¡± The man chuckled, ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. But patience. We shall spend the day here getting ourselves nice and fat, stock up on supplies, enjoy some creature comforts¡­and then we travel.¡± He set the mug down, ¡°And this is a big one. Wyrm size¡­and one I¡¯ve never hunted. A dragon from the Demon Realm¡­a demonic dragon.¡±
The day passed rapidly. Tristan very much enjoyed the time with his grandfather, just sitting on the porch while Hurvun smoked a pipe and regaled him with the story of his most recent hunt. The man also produced a vial from his pocket and handed it to Tristan, ¡°Sadly this last one was just a juvenile ¨C shoddy reports from the outer scouts. But this one we¡¯ll be going after? The report cannot be mistaken, as it came from a very reliable source ¨C one of the King¡¯s head scouts.¡± Tristan turned the vial over in his hands, ¡°What Realm is this one from?¡± ¡°Elemental Realm of Poison. Drink up.¡± Tristan nodded and popped the cork, sucking down the liquid. He doubled over on the chair and winced in pain as his stomach churned. Hurvun laughed, ¡°Hold it in like a bad cup of ale! If you puke, it¡¯s wasted!¡± He let out a guffaw as he drained a whole flagon of wine. The rumbling subsided after a few moments and the cramping pain ceased. Tristan sat up, huffing in breath. ¡°Thanks for getting some for me,¡± he said between gasps of breath as spittle dripped from his lips. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. I had to bring you back some type of souvenir.¡± ¡°What¡­what did you do with the body?¡± ¡°I gave it to the king, of course. Dragon scales, hide, meat, claws, teeth ¨C all that stuff is excellent crafting materials for those who know how to work it. How do you think I built our family¡¯s wealth? By selling the corpses of the things I killed.¡± He slapped his armrest, ¡°Hey, Felicity! You want another flagon?¡± Felicity was sitting nearby on a child-sized chair that Tristan remembered fondly from his nursery. She looked quite humorous, sitting upright with her feet plopped out in front of her, her front paw-claws turned into small hands as she sipped the flagon of red wine. ¡°I¡¯d¡­¡± hic, ¡°love more!¡± Hurvun laughed, and Tristan joined in at the ridiculous sight of a plastered fairy dragon.
The night came rapidly, and Tristan ensured that he stayed in the Fey Realm. Felicity brought back bottles of wine and shared them with her fellow siblings, and they got quite riotous to the point that Tristan had to force them out of his room and continue their drunken revels elsewhere. He got a good night¡¯s sleep, and the next morning had to peel Felicity off the floor outside the front of his room. ¡°He¡­hey!¡± she grumbled. ¡°No¡­no one¡­mandhandles¡­me¡­unless I want¡­them to!¡± she began making a weird, heaving noise, and Tristan held her to his side as she retched. ¡°Blech!¡± He carried her in his arms up the spiral of the tree center, went to the dirt circle, and spun his essence crucible as he fed the stream of power into his ring, vanishing from the Fey Realm and returning to his room. Downstairs, in the foyer, his grandfather was getting all their packs together. Once he had learned about Felicity¡¯s extradimensional storage space, and the fact that Tristan could ensure they rested each night in comfort in the Fey Realm, he had foregone the usual bedrolls and tent to instead pack additional food and alcohol. ¡°Ah,¡± grandfather Hurvun said as he stood up, ¡°How¡¯d you sleep.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Horribly,¡± Felicity mumbled. Hurvun let out a guffaw of laughter, ¡°Come on little missy, open up that storage space and let¡¯s get it all loaded up!¡± She did so, and Tristan helped his grandfather load up the space before she let it shut. ¡°Now, invisible, Felicity,¡± Tristan said softly. She held her head with her paw-claws, ¡°Ugh. It hurts.¡± She vanished from sight to all but Elf blooded folk. Tristan moved her from his arms to the top of his head, and she nestled in between his ears as she began to snore lightly. This is why I don¡¯t drink to excess, Tristan thought. Hurvun led him out to the stables and they both mounted gorgeous destriers; actual traveling horses. Tristan immediately removed the bit and bridle from his steed. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Now why do something like that?¡± Hurvun asked. Tristan smiled, ¡°Elves have a natural way with animals.¡± He leaned into the horse¡¯s face and whispered, ¡°You¡¯ll serve me well, won¡¯t you?¡± It whinnied in response, and Tristan clambered up before gently guiding it with his legs. Hurvun let out an impressed sound, ¡°Huh, look at that. Either you¡¯re a natural horseman, or you aren¡¯t bullshitting me.¡± Tristan cast a mischievous glance at the man, ¡°Who said I¡¯m not both?¡± Hurvun chuckled, ¡°Come on, we have many miles to travel. And it is hot as balls out here. Hottest days are ahead, too. Even with as much Fire dragon blood that I¡¯ve drunk¡­still is miserable traveling.¡± Tristan smiled and spun his essence crucible, letting the essence vent out of him as he ensured not to let too much out to cause ice, but enough to cool the temperature drastically. The horses seemed agreeable to it as well, and Hurvun smiled. ¡°Full of surprises, aren¡¯t you, boy?¡± ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Come on, old man, we have a journey to set out on.¡±
The next five days were some of the best days Tristan could recall in his adult life. The days were spent traveling over the gorgeous grasslands that began to turn to dry shrub as they kept traveling to the arid highlands leading to the mountains of the Gredo Expanse. The nights were spent indulging in Fey Realm culture, with his grandfather even taking a hand at dancing with The Matriarch, to which Felicity felt like she had to show up her mother, shifted into her own elfanoid form, and dragged Tristan to the dance floor as the band played. All in all, it was a pleasurable trip. His grandfather was constantly giving him lessons as they traveled over the lands of the kingdom of Bhant. Lessons on how to slay dragons, primarily, but also telling him about the small repertoire of dragonbane spells he had developed. ¡°Your weapon and armor are the two most important, hence why I commissioned those bloody expensive artificers to make them-¡± ¡°I can make items of artifice myself,¡± Tristan stated. ¡°No shit?¡± Hurvun asked as he turned on the mount. Tristan shook his head, ¡°I am not shitting you.¡± The vulgar language felt odd in his mouth ¨C his mother had insisted that he speak properly and not curse; and at court he was expected to act as such. But his grandfather, apparently, over the past few years had forgotten. Or perhaps it was because he viewed Tristan as more of a man now, having slain his first dragon. ¡°Then remind me to have you make a bunch of arrows-¡± ¡°The quality must be very high. Regular arrows won¡¯t cut it.¡± ¡°Damn. Well, I can investigate that on our return.¡± The older dragonslayer was covered in armor like Tristan¡¯s, the progenitor of the design. His sword was akin to Gisele¡¯s heavy, chopper-style blade, but had two edges like his father¡¯s Greatsword. ¡°There¡¯s a few more spells you need to be aware of.¡± He handed Tristan a small, pocket-sized notebook. ¡°I spent some of last night writing down the spells for you. Study those well.¡± Tristan nodded as the horses continued plodding along; the travel group cooled by Tristan¡¯s consistent venting of essence. ¡°What capacity is your essence crucible? Are you a mage? A sorcerer?¡± Hurvun let out a barking laugh, ¡°Mage. I can only do Second Order.¡± He pointed at the notebook, ¡°But I¡¯ve made up a bunch more. Paid that old adventuring friend, the one I told you about, remember? The wizard who went into the Elemental Realm of Fire with me?¡± ¡°Jacoby the Dim,¡± Tristan said with a slight smile. ¡°The man you described as a simpleton and yet one of the strongest Archons to exist.¡± Hurvun chuckled, ¡°He was simple, aye, but when it came to essence-weaving? He was unparalleled. Singularly focused. Just had to wave some spicy jerky in his face when you wanted him to do something other than essence-weaving.¡± ¡°Is that why all the spells are in the Standard Tongue?¡± Tristan asked as he flipped through the notebook. ¡°And why the gestures are so simple?¡± Hurvun nodded, and looked off into the distance, wistfully, ¡°Aye. That¡¯s right. Shame he died. Did I tell you that stor-¡± ¡°Choked on a chicken leg.¡± ¡°Hah! I knew I told you that one.¡± Tristan shot him a mock-disappointed glance, ¡°When I was six.¡± ¡°Well, you were choking on some chicken at the time.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m a half-elf, and I didn¡¯t like the taste or texture.¡± He handed the notebook to Felicity who snagged it from his hand and put it into the pocket dimension. I¡¯ll read it later, he thought. ¡°Why have your friend make spells for every Order if you never focused on improving your essence crucible?¡± Hurvun sighed, ¡°I have a shitty essence crucible. Lowest of the low when it comes down to it. I can¡¯t go much beyond my current essence-weaving. So, I focused on my martial talents instead.¡± He looked over at Tristan, ¡°You remind me of him, sometimes.¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°How?¡± Hurvun grinned, ¡°You have a bit of a cold shoulder!¡± He let out a laugh, and Felicity giggled a little bit at the bad pun. Tristan smirked and shut off his venting essence as he stopped spinning his crucible. The air grew noticeably hotter. ¡°Hey! Turn that on again before I pee on your head!¡± Felicity shouted as she hit her paw-claws against Tristan¡¯s head. ¡°Fine,¡± Tristan said as he mocked her tone of voice, spun his essence crucible once more, and vented his essence into the surrounding air. ¡°Remember, old man, I¡¯m the one keeping you cool in this sweltering heat. Hurvun took a swig of his waterskin, ¡°That¡¯s a good lad. Mind making it cooler?¡±
The dawn of the sixth day, the first of Building Season and the hottest time of the year, they reached the high, mountain territories on the edge of the kingdom of Bhant. The natural barriers marked a boundary between the kingdom and the mountain-dwelling folk. Half-Broxtar primarily resided in these high fortresses, enormous-sized people like the chef Gertrude Tristan was familiar with, though she was not very Broxtar-blooded, having more Human in her. Hurvun led Tristan to a tower that stood at the foot of a mountain pass. It was marked with the banner of the kingdom ¨C a black crown on a crimson field. He waved his symbol overhead, and the gates set within the walls, creating a small perimeter for some interior buildings, ponderously swung open. Some mercenaries of The Black Company sneered at Tristan who had not bothered to hide who he was, but they were overseen by a handful of actual members of the kingdom¡¯s military. Hurvun dismounted and walked up to one, clasping the man in a hug. ¡°Barty! It¡¯s good to see you!¡± ¡°Hurvun, you fucking bastard.¡± He clapped the old man in an embrace. ¡°Up here to solve our dragon problems?¡± ¡°Aww, you know me so well.¡± Hurvun looked back at Tristan, ¡°This is Tristan, my son¡¯s son, and the person I hope will actually inherit my house after I am rotting in the ground for the worms.¡± This Barty, a swarthy, dark-skinned man who had a few tattoos on his enormous, bulging biceps that necessitated the removal of arm armor, stroked his ornate mustache. He was also shaved bald like grandfather Hurvun, but the top of his head was tattooed as well. ¡°How¡¯d you bugger someone and make an Elf?¡± Hurvun smacked the man on the head as Tristan heard the whispers of the non-Human haters surrounding him thanks to his enhanced senses. ¡°I didn¡¯t make him. Listen properly next time and get the cock out of your ears. He¡¯s my son¡¯s child.¡± ¡°Still doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Barty replied as he walked up to Tristan. ¡°How¡¯d you come out a full Elf? Your father do some dark ritual with sacrificing a goat or some shit?¡± Tristan crossed his arms and smiled, ¡°No. My mother was an Elf, my father Human.¡± He pointed at Hurvun, ¡°Or as much human as you can be with his blood running through you.¡± Barty let out a guffaw of laughter, and clasped Tristan around the shoulder, ¡°You got your grandfather¡¯s sense of humor, lad!¡± He turned to Hurvun, ¡°Why didn¡¯t your son turn out like this one, eh? This one doesn¡¯t even look like you!¡± Hurvun walked over and smiled at Tristan in a way that filled the young dragonslayer with a sense of pride, ¡°Well, it¡¯s because this one was raised right. Not coddled by his mother.¡± He met Tristan¡¯s gaze, ¡°Your grandmother was not okay with me taking your father out to train up.¡± ¡°Yeah, she was a right batty witch,¡± Barty replied. ¡°Always forcing you to go home instead of staying out drinking.¡± Tristan looked at Barty, ¡°How do you know my grandfather?¡± ¡°We adventured together! Him, I, our dim-witted friend Jacoby, our hot camp slut Beckah, and our pack mule, Goob.¡± Tristan cast a wary glance at his grandfather, ¡°A camp what-now?¡± ¡°She was just a hanger-on,¡± his grandfather replied. ¡°I never indulged. That¡¯s why I¡¯m the only one out of the group who didn¡¯t get the clap.¡± Barty grinned, ¡°Also why he doesn¡¯t have a bunch of bastards running about like me. This one was chaste for his beloved back home. Only, when he got back home, his beloved had become a worry-wart.¡± Hurvun looked up at the mountains wistfully, ¡°I still loved her, despite her coddling my son and worrying for me all the time.¡± He smiled fondly as if recalling a memory that brought him much joy, and a small tear rolled down his cheek before vanishing into his beard. Barty leaned over to Tristan and whispered to him, ¡°This guy. Jeesh. Found his soul mate and loved her to the day she died. What about you, lad? You got a girl of your own?¡± Tristan instantly blushed, ¡°I, erm, well I-¡± ¡°Hurvun! Your desired heir here hasn¡¯t been with a woman!¡± He let out a laugh before straightening up and casting a suspicious glance at Tristan, ¡°Unless that¡¯s not what you¡¯re into?¡± Tristan shook his head, ¡°No! I just have been busy. Nobles are expected to save themselves for their spouse.¡± ¡°Horse shit! Every nobleman sleeps with the sluts in the capital, ain¡¯t that right, Hurvun?¡± Hurvun shook his head and met Barty¡¯s gaze, ¡°No. Not my family. I made sure of that. Plus, you think my wife would have let Fawkes off of his leash long enough to go to a brothel? No sir. And he kept that same leash on his children.¡± He gestured to Tristan, ¡°Leave him be; he¡¯s been chasing a fairy dragon for two years.¡± ¡°Two years to hunt a little, insignificant-¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to claw his dick off,¡± Felicity growled atop Tristan¡¯s head ¨C invisible and unhearable to all except for Tristan. ¡°-pesky fairy dragon?¡± Tristan caught the man¡¯s gaze and frowned, ¡°Have you ever fought a fairy dragon? Or seen one?¡± ¡°No,¡± Barty replied as he returned a look of arrogant cockiness. ¡°But I bet it wouldn¡¯t take me two years to hunt one down.¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°Then you know nothing.¡± He looked to his grandfather, ¡°We dropped by to say hello to an old friend alone? Or is there some other reason we are here?¡± Hurvun nodded, ¡°Aye, we should get going.¡± He walked up to Barty and clasped hands with the man, ¡°Come visit me at my fancy estate sometime.¡± Barty smiled, ¡°Anytime, old man.¡± Hurvun let out a laugh and remounted his steed, gesturing for Tristan to do the same. ¡°Take care, old friend.¡± ¡°You too! And lad, keep the old guy from falling off his horse the next time he eyes up a fat-titted Half-Broxtar! Or, better yet, when you see one, kick him off his horse and go get your dick wet! Those huge women are amazing if you just pinch¡­¡± Tristan¡¯s blush deepened and he spurred his steed on with whispers, as the voice faded into the background, ¡°Faster, faster, get me away fast.¡± Felicity was still growling, ¡°I have half a mind to fly back and rip him apart root and stem!¡± Hurvun rode up to Tristan as they entered the mountain pass which began to slope upward, causing the horses to slow. ¡°Sorry about that, I should have warned you.¡± Tristan took a deep breath to compose himself. ¡°It is alright, grandfather. Let¡¯s just get this dragon.¡± Chapter 43: The ruins of Pass Hold
The journey up the mountain pass was quiet; Hurvun insisted on that. ¡°We don¡¯t know where this beast is,¡± he said softly. ¡°But there are signs to look for when hunting dragons ¨C well, Elemental Realm dragon. I¡¯m not quite sure what the signs are for a dragon from the Demon Realm, since I didn¡¯t even know the non-Elemental Realms had dragons.¡± Tristan kept his eyes peeled and stopped spinning his crucible as they ascended into the heights and the air grew cooler. Not cold, as they were in the start of Building Season, and it would be a hot forty days until the Harvest Season came in the lower elevations. ¡°When looking for dragon signs,¡± Tristan recalled his grandfather teaching him as a young teenager, ¡°You must be vigilant. First, look for signs of them feeding, decimated livestock, missing people on the outskirts of cities, and the like. Second, you look for places they could hole up. Dragons love to find themselves a lair to then venture out from. You want to fight them in that lair; where they have the least ability to maneuver and use their flight. Half of dragonslaying is tracking.¡± Thus far they had not come across any type of slain animals, trade caravans, or the like. But they were on one of dozens of roads that crisscrossed the mountainous region of the Gredo Expanse. The only benefit is that this road was one of the main trade routes that led to the city states further in the heights surrounding them. Travel through the day was quiet and calm, with only the occasional sounds of nature. The pass they traveled through was carved with ancient magics; vertical rock faces shot up on either side, and the close space made Tristan feel like this would be the perfect spot to be ambushed. Hurvun must have been thinking the same thing, as he turned around in his saddle, ¡°Keep an eye on the rear, would you?¡± He looked up to the still-invisible Felicity on her perch atop Tristan¡¯s head, ¡°And little miss, would you mind flying around a bit to see if you spot anyone or anything?¡± She nodded and flew off. Tristan nodded, ¡°She¡¯s off to scout around us.¡± Hurvun smiled, ¡°I never thought I¡¯d meet, much less party with, a fairy dragon. Or travel to the Fey Realm. Quite the experience. Tell me, how do you like Felicity?¡± Tristan shrugged, ¡°She is a trustworthy companion who enjoys causing some mischief.¡± ¡°How old is she?¡± ¡°Twenty years of age,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°She spent most of her time in the Mortal Realm, hence why she¡¯s keeping me company instead of another fairy dragon. She has the most experience.¡± ¡°And she can take on a humanoid form, eh? Ever thought of¡­¡± he let the implication hang in the air. Tristan grimaced and shook his head, ¡°No, that¡¯s just¡­weird. Fairy dragons are like servants to me. Winterbloom are like¡­the natural rulers of the Fey Realm.¡± And since I¡¯m seemingly the last one alive in the Mortal Realm¡­the last Winterbloom¡­I¡¯m going to be the last lord of the Fey. The thought was gut-wrenching, knowing that an entire bloodline¡¯s continuation sat upon his shoulders. Hurvun must have read Tristan¡¯s face, because the older dragonslayer frowned, ¡°Right¡­well¡­¡± he trailed off and looked forward once more. ¡°Sorry for prying.¡± Tristan grimaced, ¡°I like her as a friend and companion. But I don¡¯t want that type of power dynamic, if that makes sense? If I¡¯m going to be with anyone, I want them to be my equal. Plus, she¡¯s a fairy dragon! Not a¡­¡± ¡°Well, finish your thoughts.¡± ¡°I was going to say ¡®like a person¡¯ but she is a person: just able to take multiple forms. But still, I want someone my equal, not someone who I¡¯m inherently above in some type of hierarchy.¡± Hurvun looked back at him, ¡°Ah, I see your mother¡¯s feminism rubbed off on you.¡± ¡°According to Elven culture,¡± Tristan replied, ¡°the society is matriarchal. If there was another Winterbloom alive, and they were female, they would overrule me.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Hurvun muttered. ¡°Do you plan on finding an Elven wife then? From one of the lesser bloodlines? Keep the whole Winterbloom going? Oh, wait, that would be the same thing, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Tristan sighed, ¡°You¡¯re right, and I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t have experience with romance aside from what I saw at court; no one ever approached the half-breed,¡± he said with some disgust at the word. ¡°They never saw past the slightly tapered ears.¡± ¡°And now they¡¯d never look past your full-Elf looks,¡± Hurvun replied as he glanced back. ¡°Sorry, Tristan.¡± ¡°And,¡± Tristan said, ¡°I¡¯m going to live forever if I avoid a violent end.¡± This caused Hurvun to turn fully in his saddle, ¡°Come again?¡± Tristan smiled, ¡°If a scroll I found is to be believed, and The Matriarch¡¯s recollections are anything to go by, I should be able to live forever. That would be a sad life if my partner only lived a fraction of my span.¡± Hurvun let out a barking laugh, ¡°Damn, you have it good. Here I am with maybe twenty good years left.¡± He scratched his beard and turned forward in his saddle once more, ¡°unless my indulgence in dragon blood let some of their longevity rub off on me.¡± For all we know, it could have, Tristan thought. He saw Felicity flying back and she landed atop his head. She removed her invisibility and cleared her throat to get Hurvun¡¯s attention, ¡°I scouted ¨C no signs of any bandits or brigands. There is a weird sight up ahead. Some type of city that looked destroyed. Bashed to bits.¡± Hurvun clicked his tongue, and Tristan could not see his face, but he saw the man¡¯s shoulders droop. ¡°A shame. Probably our prey. The town¡­I think it would be Pass Hold. A series of other roads ¨C cuts through the mountains ¨C intersect in that town.¡± He spurred his mount on to a canter. Tristan leaned over and whispered to his mount, ¡°Keep up, if you would.¡± His mount acknowledged the commands and began to catch up with then hold pace with Hurvun¡¯s mount. Felicity leaned down and whispered into Tristan¡¯s ear, ¡°I did see some odd lights atop a mountain, but it was in the direction of the sun so I couldn¡¯t be sure if it was weird or not.¡± Tristan nodded and reached a hand up to scratch her head, ¡°Thanks, Felicity.¡±
The scent of cracked, wooden timbers assailed Tristan¡¯s nostrils before they came upon the ruins of the town itself. He gulped as he saw the devastation. What once was a one-lane road that went to an intersection and split off from a central square in the four cardinal directions was naught but a blasted ruin. Every building had been smashed, torn, or otherwise ruined. There were several buildings carved into the stone walls surrounding them, and the front faces were smashed in. Hurvun held up his fist indicating they should stop, and he dismounted. ¡°Strange there are no bodies,¡± he said as he drew his sword. Tristan dismounted as well and drew his blade, ¡°Dragons eat people. Well, they can, so that¡¯s not really surprising, is it?¡± Hurvun grunted, ¡°No blood. No sign of a defense. No sign of some type of breath weapon being used.¡± He went over to one of the facades of crumbled stone and put his ear up to it. His eyes went wide and he sheathed his sword, pulling the rocks away from the rubble. ¡°Come on! There¡¯s survivors!¡± Tristan immediately sheathed his blade and began helping; finding his newfound strength from not just training, but his forging of his essence crucible, and his bloodline¡¯s inherent power. He was lifting rocks that were easily a hundred pounds. Felicity did her part, too, shifting to her elfanoid form and helping where she could by removing smaller rocks. Hurvun shouted out, ¡°Just hold on! We¡¯re almost to you!¡± he looked back to Tristan and pointed, ¡°I can see the inside!¡± Tristan gestured for his grandfather to move aside and shoved his arm into the gap. Time to do some essence-weaving. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). He willed the ice wall to grow in a circular shape around his arm ¨C and the essence drained from his crucible, into his essence channel, and expanded as he desired to form a wall that subsequently pushed the rocks up and to the side. ¡°Grandfather, check to make sure no rocks will come tumbling from above.¡± Hurvun dashed to his side and reached up, feeling around a bit before nodding. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Remove the wall. ¡°Ich befehle dir, Frost und Eis vor mir, meinem Befehl zu gehorchen. Schmelzt in meiner Gegenwart und werdet wieder fl¨¹ssig.¡± (I order you, frost and ice before me, to obey my command. Melt in my presence, and become liquid once more). The circular wall melted almost instantly, revealing the interior of the building. There were five people inside, huddled in a corner, who blinked at the sudden intrusion of light. They looked famished, and Tristan looked at Felicity, ¡°Clearcool elixirs, now.¡± Felicity turned into her fairy dragon form, opened her extradimensional storage, and began flying over to each person, handing them a vial. ¡°Drink this,¡± she said with cheer, trying to keep their spirits up. Each person did so without question, and their pallor vanished as they were filled up and had their water needs met. ¡°Thank you, strangers,¡± the large, half-Broxtar man replied. He was accompanied by a woman, and what looked like three children ¨C all who were bigger than Tristan thanks to their heritage. ¡°I¡¯m Chaun.¡± Hurvun poked his head into the circle, ¡°I am Hurvun Anorox, from the kingdom of Bhant. Let¡¯s get you out of there and get to searching for more survivors!¡± The group was let out well enough, and Chaun stretched a bit before looking around. ¡°Place looks like shit.¡± He pointed to a pile of rubble next to them, ¡°That¡¯s my neighbor¡¯s house. Come!¡± The next few hours were a frenzy of activity. The trio would clear rubble, Tristan would shove his hand into the gap one they made it, and use his two spells to push the rest of the rocks aside and melt down the resulting ice wall. The activity sped up considerably after they uncovered more survivors, and with the resulting increase in manpower, the entire town¡¯s populace that had taken refuge inside of their carved-out abodes were saved. About half the population. Chaun explained what happened as the trio were resting whilst other survivors kept at their task. ¡°Three days ago, a massive dragon flew overhead. Immediately the alarm was sounded, and most of us got to our homes.¡± He sighed, ¡°The beast landed and began talking. Not in Giant¡¯s Speech, but in Standard Tongue. It demanded that everyone follow it to its new keep to serve as worshippers. They¡­obeyed it.¡± ¡°Enchantment spell,¡± Tristan whispered as he looked over at Felicity who was laying on the rock next to him. She nodded, not bothering to be invisible since they were not within the Human-supremacist kingdom of Bhant where anything remotely abnormal was viewed with suspicion. ¡°Possibly. I did not know that dragons can use enchantment. Well, except for fairy dragons.¡± She lay her head down and Tristan reached over to give her some head scratches. ¡°Further down the neck, please. My shoulders are killing me.¡± He obliged and shifted up his motion, and she sighed. Hurvun stroked his braided beard, ¡°Dragons are known to have essence crucibles in rare instances. And in some other cases, they have rare permutations of something akin to a bloodline that enables unusual spell types.¡± He looked over at Chaun, ¡°Continue the tale.¡± ¡°The beast then destroyed the town, collapsing every structure and the front of each carved residence.¡± He sighed and put his head in his hands. ¡°Half of the town, just up and enchanted!¡± Tristan looked around and stood up, ¡°I¡¯m going to keep helping with the rescue efforts.¡±
Night began to fall and Tristan looked over at Felicity as he looked out at the half-Broxtar, the handful of full-blooded Broxtar who towered even taller over their peers, and the few scattered other heritages. They were debating what to do, and Hurvun stood silently next to the few leaders that had emerged. ¡°Felicity,¡± Tristan muttered. ¡°Could I use my ring to bring refugees back to the Fey Realm?¡± ¡°If they are near you? Yes. If they are in contact with you ¨C like you were with me when I transported when new first met? Yes.¡± Tristan smiled and stood up, waving his hand, ¡°I¡¯ve got a solution!¡± he shouted. ¡°Well, for the short term, at least!¡± Everyone turned to look at him, and his grandfather gave Tristan a curious look before a sudden flash of realization went across his face and he spoke up, ¡°Come on up, Tristan. Tell them your plan.¡± Tristan walked through the parted crowd and made sure to flourish his cloak slightly when he got atop the small pile of rocks the leaders had been standing upon. ¡°I am Tristan Anorox, also called Tristan Winterbloom. I have a means to transport us, all of us, to the Fey Realm. You can stay there, safe and secure, while my grandfather and I track down your missing kin. Then, once all are rescued who can be, we will travel to another town of your choosing ¨C within reasonable distance ¨C and bring you out of the Fey Realm.¡± There was muttered conversation and hushed talking. Felicity flapped up to Tristan and perched atop his head, her sharp voice piercing the air, ¡°I am Felicity Glimmerwing! Advisor to Tristan Winterbloom! You may notice that I am not a dog, as some of you have pointed out. I am a fairy dragon! And the Fey Realm is so amazing! We¡¯ll give you a place to stay while we get everyone back.¡± Once more, conversation stirred up, but the group of decision-makers behind Tristan caught his attention, and he turned to face them. Chaun had been elected one of those leaders, and he let out a bellowing cry, ¡°Silence!¡± The whole crowd went silent, and he looked at his fellow leaders, ¡°These two helped us escape our confines and survive. They helped us. I say we trust them. Who is with me?¡± he raised his hand up. Slowly at first and then quickly gaining speed, hands shot up until almost all hands were raised. A few of the other leaders seemed skeptical, and one of them voiced his concerns over the slight din, ¡°What about getting out of that place? You could just be taking us there to imprison us! We all know that Elves can enchant people.¡± Tristan looked at the man and scowled, ¡°Then I won¡¯t take anyone who wants to fend for themselves. Simple problems require the simplest of solutions, don¡¯t they?¡± The man looked around and saw that there were only a handful of scattered individuals. ¡°Well, fine then! Anyone who doesn¡¯t trust the Elf, this way! I¡¯ve got a hunting lodge up the mountain that we can shelter in.¡± Six of the people split off, and the rest crowded around Tristan. He chuckled and scratched the back of his head with his hand, ¡°Now just give me an hour to do the spell,¡± he said. Felicity tapped the top of his head, ¡°Good job,¡± she whispered. The group of people began going to their homes to scavenge what they could. Hurvun walked up and clapped Tristan on the shoulder, ¡°I¡¯m proud of you for taking that initiative,¡± he said. ¡°Definitely wish you were my son instead of grandson.¡± ¡°If you hate father so much, couldn¡¯t you just disown him and name me heir?¡± ¡°I could, but then he would just form a cadet branch for his own house. Plus, he is my son, and I love him even if he¡¯s not turned out how I would have wished.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°He was a decent father¡­until the whole half-breed thing.¡± He grimaced, ¡°And now that I¡¯m full Elf? You should have seen his look in the royal court when I confronted him.¡± ¡°Not wise, confronting him in front of his peers.¡± Tristan shrugged, ¡°What is done is done,¡± he said softly.
The hour passed rapidly and Tristan instructed everyone to put hands on each other¡¯s shoulders, and then the group at the center of the circle reached out to touch him. He pushed the last bit of essence into the ring and the flash of white manifested before the whole group was arrayed in front of the Queen¡¯s Wood. The fairy dragons that were at play immediately stopped what they were doing. ¡°Invasion!¡± ¡°Incoming!¡± ¡°Defensive positions!¡± Tristan waved his hands, ¡°No, stop! It¡¯s fine! Just refugees!¡± The fairy dragons almost instantly paused their combat preparations and began flying about the group who were either cowering, taking up defensive stances, or just standing in awe at the sight of the Fey Realm. Tristan turned around and put on his biggest smile he could, ¡°It¡¯s okay! Everyone, just be calm!¡± he looked over to the fairy dragons, ¡°Stop flying around randomly, and get some clearcool and starberries.¡± The arrayed fairy dragons flew into a cluster almost like a group of starlings, chatting rapidly in Elvish, before splitting up and darting into the forest in various directions. The Matriarch flew down from the top boughs in her elfanoid form, her large antlers protruding up out of her head almost as if a crown. She folded her wings back as she landed, and there were gasps from the refugees. ¡±Lordi Tristan, en odottanut teid?n tuovan takaisin... kahdeksankymment? ihmist?.¡± (Lord Tristan, I was not expecting you to bring back¡­eighty people). ¡±Lohik??rmeen hy?kk?yksest? selviytyneit?. He ovat vain v?liaikaisia asukkaita, kun pelastamme heid?n yst?v?ns? ja perheens?. Sitten ved?mme heid?t pois toisesta heid?n kaupungistaan.¡± (Survivors from a dragon attack. They are only temporary residents while we rescue their friends and families. Then, we¡¯ll pull them out at another town of theirs). She shrugged, ¡±Kuten haluatte. Huomaa, ett? vain haltiat voivat k?ytt?? t?m?n valtakunnan olemus.¡± (As you wish. Be aware, only Elves can use the essence of this Realm). She swapped to the Standard Tongue, ¡°Welcome to the Fey Realm. You are welcome to stay as long as Lord Tristan wishes you be allowed to. Please, make yourselves as comfortable as you can.¡± She pointed off to the training field, ¡°Go that way, to the clearing.¡± She looked over at Felicity, still perched on Tristan¡¯s head, ¡°Guide them to the clearing. I¡¯ll send the other children to get tents and other camping supplies off in the far reaches of our Realm.¡± Felicity nodded and took off, circle over the crowd, ¡°Okay everyone! Come on! This way! We¡¯ll get you some starberries to eat, some clearcool to drink, and get tents set up once they arrive!¡± The group of refugees moved away in a cluster ¨C some having to be dragged as they just stood in awe of the place they found themselves in. Tristan was joined by Hurvun who looked up The Matriarch, ¡°A dragon took their people captive using an enchantment spell. We will rescue who we can, bring them back here, and then relocate them to another city in the Gredo Expanse.¡± The Matriarch nodded, ¡°They are welcome to stay as long as Lord Tristan wishes.¡± Hurvun glanced at Tristan quickly, ¡°Mind talking with me for a moment? I have a question to ask.¡± The Matriarch glanced at Tristan for approval, and he gave a quick nod. She led Hurvun inside, and Tristan chose to follow the refugees to the clearing. Fairy dragons were delivering huge hauls of starberries and buckets of clearcool. Felicity flew over to Tristan and landed on his head, ¡°Well, this is going to keep my siblings quite occupied.¡± Tristan nodded and put his hands on his waist as he let out a sigh of satisfaction. ¡°It feels good to help people.¡± ¡°Shame that you¡¯re the last of your bloodline.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± Tristan muttered. Chaun walked over and bowed deeply at his waist, still coming up to Tristan¡¯s head thanks to the size difference. ¡°Thank you, Lord Tristan, for taking us in.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. Tents are on the way. Just make yourselves comfortable.¡± He glanced at Felicity, ¡°There¡¯s nothing here that can hurt them, correct?¡± ¡°Nothing except their own stupidity if they trip or something,¡± Felicity replied. Tristan met Chaun¡¯s gaze and smiled, ¡°Feel free to roam. Just¡­please stay out of the Queen¡¯s Wood itself. That¡¯s all I ask.¡± Chaun nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll pass it along and make sure that the children don¡¯t get wind of the restriction. You know how they can be; wanting to get into places they are not allowed.¡± Felicity grinned, ¡°Oooh! I know a great place they can visit nearby! It¡¯s a small hovel with a ton of jumpshrubs growing all around it! An enormous bouncy cave!¡± She flew over to the children and began gathering them up before zipping off ¨C chased by some of the adults as the kids ran after her. Chaun chuckled, ¡°Thank you, again. If you can save our people, I would be forever indebted. We all would be.¡± Tristan dipped his head slightly, ¡°I will keep that in mind.¡± ¡°You know¡­you do strike quite a lordly figure. I didn¡¯t really see it until you spoke in front of the survivors¡­but I can absolutely see it now.¡± Tristan grinned, ¡°Thanks for that.¡± Chapter 44: The lair of the demonic dragon
Tristan returned to the Queen¡¯s Wood and was met by The Matriarch at the top of the ramp leading to the entrance. She had quite the sorrow-filled expression, and appeared to have been crying. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Tristan asked. ¡°Hurvun¡­your grandfather told me about the¡­the recent learning¡­Lord Tristan, you are the last of the Winterbloom.¡± She shook her head, ¡°It is¡­terrible. Absolutely terrible.¡± Her face twisted into one of anger and sheer rage, ¡°If I could leave this Realm and hunt down those responsible, I would do so in a heartbeat! I would shred and obliterate them utterly!¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°It is a terrible state of affairs,¡± he muttered. He stepped up to her and gave her a hug, ¡°But it will be okay. I¡¯m still alive. And as long as I¡¯m alive, the Winterbloom are still alive.¡± The Matriarch seemed taken off guard by the sudden motion, but she eventually returned the hug, ¡°You are a good man, Tristan,¡± she whispered. Pulling back, she composed herself. ¡°Your grandfather is in the quarters below. Shall I send Felicity down as well when she returns?¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± She blinked a few times and then let out the tiniest of giggles, ¡°Your grandfather asked¡­oh, well, he should really be the one to tell you-¡± ¡°Matriarch? I order you to tell me what he asked. And what your answer was.¡± She nodded and composed herself, ¡°He asked if it was out of place for Elves to share a bed with fairy dragons in their elfanoid forms. I told him that yes, they can. He then made the suggestion that you and Felicity-¡± ¡°What?¡± Tristan said, aghast as he was filled with a sense of shock. ¡°That old bastard!¡± The Matriarch giggled once more, ¡°It is not uncommon for your bloodline, Lord Tristan. Zeltana had many such fairy dragon companions who took on elfanoid forms to keep her company. In fact, it was one of the few ways that she was able to express fondness for a person, as she outlived many of her own kind.¡± Tristan chose to shift the topic of conversation, ¡°You never told me how Zeltana died. If not old age, then what?¡± ¡°Ah, sadly, she chose to end her own life.¡± The Matriarch gestured up to the Queen¡¯s Wood, ¡°This was not always called what it is. This used to be the Heart of the Fey, but a terrible disease intruded upon our Realm from the Plague Realm. I closed the rift quickly, but the disease took root and festered, destroying everything it touched and rotting all of the land. Zeltana sacrificed her life in a powerful spell and act of self-sacrifice to cleanse the Realm.¡± Tristan looked back out at the horizon with worry, ¡°What if it happens again?¡± ¡°It cannot. Elvenkind went on a crusade, going into the Plague Realm despite terrible cost and ensuring the destruction of all within. Then, I grafted the Realm onto our own; making our Realm immune to disease and plague.¡± Tristan looked at her, ¡°Grafting a Realm does that?¡± ¡°When a Realm Protector grafts a Realm, they may choose one singular trait of that Realm and apply it to their own. The reason why those in the Plague Realm did not suffer was because of their immunity. Well, now this Realm has the same immunity. As does all who are born here.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Thanks for sharing.¡± The Matriarch gave him a small grin, ¡°You are welcome. Now, shall I advise Felicity-¡± ¡°No!¡± Tristan said quickly. ¡°No, I¡¯m not ordering anyone to be a companion. I won¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Tristan stepped past her and went right to his grandfather¡¯s chamber, knocking loudly. ¡°Grandfather! We need to talk!¡± ¡°In the tub!¡± Tristan pushed the door in and averted his gaze, looking up at the ceiling. ¡°Grandfather, why did you need to ask The Matriarch what you did?¡± ¡°Oh, you are welcome-¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get one thing straight! I am not going to do what you or anyone else thinks I should do! I¡¯m my own goddamn man, and the lord of this Realm.¡± Hurvun chuckled, ¡°Suit yourself. If it were any other man in your position? He would have a whole harem of these¡­humanoid-form fairy dragons serving his every whim.¡± Tristan slammed the door shut and went to his chambers; stripping off his gear. After putting it aside appropriately on its various racks, he took a dip in the small pool in the chamber. After, he went right to bed.
He was woken up by a paw batting his face. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Felicity in her fairy dragon form looking at him. ¡°Wake up, sleepyhead!¡± Tristan sat up and yawned, ¡°Right. Time to hunt down a dragon.¡± ¡°A demonic dragon,¡± Felicity said as she flew up above him and then went around in circles. ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s go! I want to see what a real dragon is like!¡± Tristan donned his armor and equipment, heading up the root stalk to find The Matriarch out front overseeing fairy dragons who were midway through weaving tents. She bowed as he approached, and Felicity landed atop his head. ¡°Ah, Lord Tristan. I trust you slept well?¡± ¡°Yes, thank you,¡± he replied. ¡°Is my grandfather up?¡± Felicity patted his head, ¡°I¡¯ll go get him!¡± She flew off to the interior of the tree. The Matriarch looked at Tristan, ¡°You took her to bed?¡± ¡°What? No!¡± ¡°Oh. She went into your chamber.¡± ¡°She slept on the pillow next to me I think,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Ah. Well, I filled her in on my conversation with Hurvun-¡± ¡°Why?¡± Tristan asked, exasperated. ¡°Honesty is the best policy with one¡¯s family,¡± she replied. ¡°I would never lie to my children, or you, Lord Tristan. Well, any Winterbloom, but¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°Apologies.¡± Felicity flew back out from the tree with Hurvun in tow, ¡°I found the old geezer in the vault!¡± ¡°I am not a geezer,¡± Hurvun replied. He looked at Tristan who still had a pissed-off expression. ¡°Oh, what happened?¡± ¡°Just get into the damned circle,¡± Tristan muttered as he walked over to it. When Felicity tried to land on his head, he patted his pauldron instead, ¡°Land here, please. We need to talk.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She landed on his shoulder, ¡°Jeesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the pillow.¡± She stuck out her tongue at him and blew a raspberry. Hurvun joined Tristan and put a hand on his other shoulder. Tristan spun his crucible and poured essence into his ring, teleporting back without the horses. When they reappeared in the ruined town, Hurvun pointed up to the mountains nearby, ¡°Felicity said she saw odd light up that way.¡± He began to ascend the steep, steep trail. Far too steep for horses, hence their decision to leave them in the Fey Realm. Tristan followed his grandfather on the ascent, and looked over at Felicity. ¡°I know The Matriarch told you what my grandfather asked about.¡± ¡°Oh. Yeah. I mean, I knew it was something that wasn¡¯t uncommon. Honestly, I was kind of expecting you to order me even-¡± ¡°No,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°No. I¡¯m not doing that. I won¡¯t ever order someone to serve me like that. Mother insisted that if I was ever to be with a person, that it had to be their choice.¡± ¡°A person? I mean, I heard of you humans doing some weird stuff, but¡­does man or woman not matter?¡± ¡°To some,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°It is frowned upon in the kingdom of Bhant, but other regions are more accepting of the practice.¡± ¡°So are you-¡± ¡°I like girls, not boys,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°And you do not need to know my preference. You¡¯re my ally and companion. I don¡¯t see you like that.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± She looked at his head, ¡°Can I sit on your head then?¡± ¡°Yes, you may.¡± She flapped up and perched atop his head once more, batting playfully at his ears. He heard her sigh before she stopped batting at his ears. ¡°I¡¯ll keep a look out behind us. You focus on not slipping! I don¡¯t want you dying because you split your head open!¡±
The ascent took most of the day and by the time night began to creep on and the five moons rose in the sky overhead Hurvun insisted they stop. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t travel during the night,¡± he softly said. ¡°Dragons are sometimes nocturnal. I don¡¯t know about this type of dragon in particular, though. Plus, we cannot see in the dark.¡± ¡°You cannot see in the dark, you mean,¡± Tristan said. ¡°It¡¯s only a bit farther. Why don¡¯t I go up there, use an illusion spell to keep myself concealed, and scout? It might just be a cave.¡± Hurvun grumbled a little but nodded, ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll wait here.¡± He sat down on a rock under an overhang. ¡°You can see in the dark?¡± Tristan chuckled, ¡°Yup. Being an Elf is far superior to being a half-breed. Felicity? Time to go invisible. And as for me, Verhoa minut hunnulla, joka maastouttaa minut.¡± (Manifest a shroud around my form that will blend me into the surroundings). He incanted the spell phrase for Blended Body, and touched his index finger and ring fingers to his thumb, his pinky to the base of his palm, and his middle finger up. Spinning his crucible, he felt the spell take effect as the cooling rush flooded through his body. Glancing down, he verified that he was transparent, and then smiled as he spoke, ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± He began the ascent, his innate dark vision able to see what used to be the ancient remnants of some type of goatherder path. Following the trail up another hour, he was heaving breaths as he arrived at the cave entrance. It was easily fifty feet across, but low at only about ten feet height. And he heard¡­clinking. Distant clinking of metal on rock. Someone is definitely here. He drew his sword and began his descent. ¡°Felicity, keep an eye on my rear,¡± he whispered. ¡°Right!¡± she turned around. ¡°Nice ass,¡± she said jokingly. Tristan almost let out a giggle, ¡°Not now,¡± he admonished at the same whisper volume. Going into the cave, he saw that the initial low height of the ceiling did not relent until he reached the back of the cave, at which point the roof arched upward up to a middle point at the top of this mountain. The chamber he found himself in was nondescript, save for the enormous pit in the center. Glancing over, he could hear the tick tick of the metal on stone. There were a series of handholds carved into the side of the tube, and he glanced back at the entrance. I can go get grandfather, or see who this is. For all I know, this could be some minors. ¡°Felicity, mind flying down there and seeing what¡¯s making that noise?¡± ¡°On it!¡± She flew down into the pit in lazy, drifting circles. She reached the bottom and flew horizontally along the ground towards the same face Tristan was standing upon. Tristan waited with bated breath for several minutes, letting his spell fade so he could ensure that he was topped up. He froze as he heard a growling voice behind him, ¡°Ah¡­who are you?¡± The voice was deep, male, and caused his chest to vibrate from the deep bass noise. Tristan spun around and saw the bulky form of a wyrm-sized dragon shove its bulk through the small crevice at the front of the chamber. But¡­it was not a dragon like any he had seen, read about in his grandfather¡¯s journals, or seen sketches of. This creature was almost serpent-like. It had ten legs ¨C five on each side ¨C instead of the usual four. And its body was long and sinuous rather than bulky around the torso. Its head was more snake-like as well, and its eyes were a deep black with no iris. There were no wings, which also made Tristan quite nervous, as the Chaun fellow he had saved had mentioned it flying down into the town. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s just people minin-¡± Felicity stopped talking as she saw the enormous beast before them both. ¡°Oh¡­shit.¡± The creature chuckled, ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you stop standing there, and get down that tube, and keep digging out my hole?¡± Tristan felt pressure on his temples and drew his sword, focusing his vision on the metal of the blade. He imagined its strength and durability and envisioned the same within his mind¡¯s eye. He focused on it to the exclusivity of anything else, and felt the pressure recede. ¡°You¡¯re not going to get into my mind!¡± ¡°On it, boss!¡± Felicity shouted as she flew down the shaft. I guess I should be thankful she is out of harm¡¯s way, Tristan thought. He faced the creature and spun his essence crucible, feeling the repository of power within him as he pushed the essence through his body. He felt it fill him up from toe to tip, and he pushed some of the power into his sword as it grew. ¡°I am Tristan Anorox, dragonslayer.¡± ¡°Oh? A dragonslayer?¡± The creature let out a chortle before its eyes turned a deep, dark purple. ¡°Ever slain a dragon?¡± Tristan chose not to answer as he felt that primal urge inside him. The urge to kill this thing, destroy it utterly, and devour its blood and essence. He rushed forward as fast as he could run. The demonic dragon curled its mass behind itself before lunging forward with its mouth ¨C something that Tristan had not trained for at all. It was a move that he¡¯d never heard of a dragon using. But, his training with The Matriarch, and his enhanced Elf form, ensured he could react in time. He dove to the side, coming up from the dive in a quick roll before turning to face the creature. It pulled its head back and laughed, ¡°Ah, slippery, aren¡¯t you?¡± Tristan poured some of the essence into his Cloak of Winterbloom, feeling it respond to his will. ¡°Bow to me.¡± There was a pulse of force that emanated from him, causing the cloak to flutter in a phantom breeze. The creature looked at him with a sidelong glance before laughing. ¡°Enchantment? Really? You are a fool!¡± It lunged forward again, but Tristan wanted it to do that. Its head was fast, and Tristan chose not to move, instead holding his blade out in front of him and pouring essence into his armor to activating Scales of our Foe. The helmet emerged from the armor and covered him fully, as the plates grew thicker and more protective. The creature tried to move its head around the sword point, but Tristan altered the direction he held it just slightly, and it pulled back from its lunge. ¡°You think you¡¯re clever?!¡± it growled out. ¡°Back against the wall, a bit of shiny metal in front of you? I said, go work on my lair!¡± Tristan felt the pressure build up on his temples again, but this time it was far stronger and akin to a pulsating headache. He focused on his sword as hard as he could, pushing aside all thoughts that he had save for the surety of the steel in his grip. And the pressure faded. He ran forward ¨C only slightly slowed by the armor ¨C as he got into range to swing a lopping, horizontal strike. He was able to cut a gash across its hide, and came to a sudden realization. It doesn¡¯t have scales! It¡¯s like a snake skin! He grinned under the helm, knowing that this thing was far easier to injure than he had anticipated¡­and he also knew, now, that just like all wrym-sized dragons, it had very few plans it employed. Whereas other wyrms would use roars to intimidate their foes, this one used a weak enchantment spell of some type to try and compel him. After, it attempted to lash out with rapid strikes, which did not help it against Tristan¡¯s defensive screen of a sharp, long sword longer than its mouth. And then it tried a more powerful enchantment spell ¨C but Tristan had foiled that as well. The creature recoiled and let out a mix of a hiss and roar and turned to face the entrance, but froze. Tristan heard his grandfather¡¯s voice. ¡°You¡¯re the weirdest dragon I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± Tristan took advantage of the opening and ran up to the tail, stabbing down through it and into the rock below. The creature let out the roar-hiss of pain as it pulled itself through the sword ¨C tearing a larger gash through the side of the tail and almost lopping it off ¨C as it tried to exert its will on Tristan once more. ¡°Fight this foolish dragonslayer!¡± Tristan focused on his weapon and felt the pressure fade, ¡°That won¡¯t work on me!¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant for you!¡± the demonic dragon said as it moved its coils aside. Hurvun walked forward with slow, plodding steps as he held his enormous chopping sword above his head. Oh, fuck me, Tristan thought. ¡°Die for the master!¡± Hurvun shouted as he ran forward. Chapter 45: A clash of steel and serpent
Tristan raised his sword up and deflected his grandfather¡¯s swing to the side. The enormous blade sank into the ground, and Tristan backpedaled towards the pit in the center of the room, ¡°Grandfather! Snap out of it!¡± ¡°Die for the master!¡± Hurvun shouted as he swung in a huge, horizontal slice that Tristan jumped up and over. He brought the blade back as Tristan landed, and the younger dragonslayer had to block the blade, catching the enormous, two-handed sword on the flat of his sword, bracing with his forearm. His grandfather might have been strong¡­but Tristan was stronger, and his guard held firm. Tristan moved into his grandfather¡¯s chest and delivered a wicked headbutt from his helmet to the old man¡¯s face. He felt the crunch of bone underneath as he broke the nose ¨C but his grandfather moved back and pulled his blade out of Tristan¡¯s block, raising it up for a cross slash from an upward angle. Tristan dodged the incoming strike by strafing backward, and he used his longer sword to get inside his grandfather¡¯s guard, trying to cut his wrist so that he would drop the massive blade. But his grandfather, even when under this beast¡¯s thrall, was skilled at combat ¨C and not just against dragons. He batted Tristan¡¯s blade away with his gauntleted forearm and chopped the opposite way with his blade. Tristan got his sword in the way of the incoming blow and deflected it. I can¡¯t risk hurting him permanently. But, then, he remembered one of the weaknesses of the armor. Something that his grandfather had thought unnecessary against dragons. But something that Tristan had seen on every other suit of armor. A codpiece. Tristan delivered a swift kick to his grandfather¡¯s junk, ¡°Sorry!¡± he shouted as he did so. His grandfather grunted and fell over, dropping his sword as he crumpled to the ground whimpering. Tristan wheeled around to see the demonic dragon circling the other side of the hole. He kicked his grandfather¡¯s sword to the side, and planted his fist on the ground. ¡°Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.¡± (I summon forth a wall of ice). He willed the wall to form around his grandfather¡¯s now-prone form and trap him in a cylinder of ice with room for air to escape the top. ¡°You are a feisty one, aren¡¯t you?¡± the creature taunted. ¡°Why fight me? Why not work for me? I could provide you with anything you desire, given time.¡± Tristan ignored the creature¡¯s pleading-disguised-as-an-offer and rushed it, but the creature slid over the edge of the pit and reached the bottom. It shouted out for its servants, and Tristan saw dozens of people begin to climb the sides of the vertical shaft using the handholds. He also saw Felicity flying up at him, with her paw-claws extended. As she approached, he waited until the last second before grabbing her by the throat and squeezing just enough for her to pass out. Backing up, he tossed her over the top of the cylinder so she landed next to the still-recovering Hurvun. Going back to the pit, he saw that the climbers were close. I can¡¯t kill all these people. Think, Tristan, think! Then, it hit him. That¡¯s it! He quickly incanted and re-applied Blended Body to himself, but then at the tunnel entrance he focused his vision and put his offhand to the dagger. Pouring his essence into the blade, he focused on his pictured desire as the illusion primer had instructed. Focusing his gaze on a rock, he thought what he wanted to appear. I need that rock to look like me. The rock was¡­overlaid by another image. Tristan could see the rock still, but another image was laid over the top, as if he was holding his hand up to his face and could still see thanks to his left eye; that overlaid vision. He saw a perfect visual recreation of himself. Moving around to the opposite side of the tunnel entrance, he waited next to the opening. The thralled townsfolk who had been abducted clambered out of the pit and charged at the illusion, swinging at it, hitting the rock beneath, and then¡­stood there. This creature must have willed them to kill me¡­and after hitting the illusion, and seeing it vanish, they think I died. He waited, and felt his essence continuing to slowly drain as it fueled the four spells. I can¡¯t keep this up for long, and I don¡¯t have Felicity to get into that storage dimension to drink down an essence elixir. After another two minutes, when his essence was almost gone, he saw the serpent flying back up the hole. It did not seem to spot him, and he was not sure how it was flying, as he did not see any type of wings. He reversed the grip on his sword, and as soon as he was sure he would not miss, he leaped forward, landing on the monster and stabbing deep with the singular motion. It let out a hissing shriek as it plummeted to the ground, coiling its body inward as it tried to find what injured it. Tristan let the Body Blending fade, along with the Minor Illusion. ¡°I got you!¡± he shouted in triumph as he kept a firm grip on the blade. The creature slammed into the ground of the tunnel below, and Tristan felt the jarring impact up his body ¨C lessened, thanks to the creature hitting before him. But he still felt a deep pain in his thighs as they took the brunt of the impact. Keeping a grip on his weapon, he ran forward along its length as he ripped the blade through the serpent skin. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It shrieked and flailed about, flinging him off along with his blade in his grip. He slammed into the wall and felt the wind knocked out of him, but the armor took the blow and kept him from being injured heavily. He would definitely be bruised the next day. Pushing himself to his feet, he had to let all of his spells fade as his essence dwindled. The monstrous creature writhed in pain before it finally caught sight of him. ¡°You dare!¡± ¡°I do,¡± Tristan grunted out as he ran forward. The monster opened its maw and let out a hissing shriek, and Tristan had to dive to the ground as a globule of some type of ichor flew out. He rolled back to his feet and got to the creature. ¡°Caught you!¡± It shouted in triumph as it brought its long tail around, slamming it into Tristan and flinging him to the side. Tristan barely pushed enough essence into his armor to reactivate the spell before he slammed into the wall of the cavern and fell prone. He felt a few ribs break and tried his best to keep silent to play dead. But, he held his blade in his right hand. Get closer you stupid dragon, he thought to himself. He was able to see the reflection of the beast through the sword¡¯s shine, and he waited for it to get closer. It let out a rasping laugh, ¡°Ha! You¡­you may have injured me¡­but I have your stupid pet and your family. And now¡­I think¡­I think I want to eat a little snack.¡± It moved forward on its legs, inching closer and closer. Tristan kept a close eye on the thing as he kept up his ruse, and as it opened its mouth and moved closer, he shut off the flow of essence to his armor, pushed it into his weapon, and got up to a crouch as he stabbed forward ¨C piercing the thing through the eye and deep into its skull. It let out a screeching hiss of pain before collapsing. Tristan pulled the blade free and took several shaky breaths. Barely enough essence for the spell. So this time, blood first. He put his hand on the creature and felt along the body until he located a bulge near the center of its long mass. Then, he stabbed inward, wrenched the blade back and forth, and was greeted with a geyser of blood. Shoving his face into the wound, he began sucking down the ichor. He kept drinking as much as he could, and he felt like he was choking. As if something was filling his lungs. Some type of smoke. He had to pull back to cough, clear his lungs as black clouds expanded up, and then went back in to gorge himself to bursting on the vital fluid. Only when he was as full as he could be did he step back, sheath his blade, and put his hands into the spell gesture for Drain Dragon. ¡°Mighty beast which now lays slain, I take from you what you can no longer use and is mine by right of conquest.¡± The silvery essence surged out of him and coated the creature, but there were also streams of intertwined crimson and gold in the silver, and another stream of icy-blue. His essence coated the creature, and then he saw black flecks pulled back as the essence returned to him. He began coughing, and collapsed on the ground as he kept coughing up black clouds of smoke. This persisted for a few minutes, and when he finally caught his breath, spittle flying from his lips as he drew in shaky lungfuls of clean air, he felt a presence nearby. Looking over, he saw Felicity was sitting on the ground. ¡°Yuck! You look disgusting! All covered in icky goop.¡± Tristan winced as he felt his broken ribs, ¡°Healing elixir,¡± he said as he nursed his broken ribs that, until then, were forgotten in the coughing and euphoria of slaying the dragon and consuming it. She fished around in her external storage dimension and ripped the leaf off of the top of the vial, handing it to him. Tristan gulped it down, and felt a soothing warm spread out from his stomach. ¡°You are all covered in blood.¡± ¡°Welcome to my life as a dragonslayer,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°How is everyone up top?¡± ¡°They looked confused. Also,¡± she crossed her arms and pouted, ¡°I did not consent to being choked out!¡± ¡°You were under his control.¡± ¡°I¡­I was? It felt like an out of body experience. Until you grabbed me around the neck.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Tristan muttered as he stood up. ¡°Come on¡­I¡­¡± he sat down. ¡°You know what? Grandfather can wait until the ice melts or those people help him out.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll fly up and tell them to break them out and get you a rope or something.¡±
Thirty minutes later Hurvun clambered down the wall of the pit. ¡°Hey,¡± he said softly. ¡°Good job killing this thing.¡± Tristan looked up at his grandfather, ¡°Sorry for kicking you in the balls.¡± The man chuckled, ¡°If you will forgive me for falling victim to its enchantment.¡± Tristan nodded, and gestured to the corpse. ¡°It¡¯s all yours.¡± ¡°Only one dragonslayer¡¯s Drain Dragon spell may affect each of the beasts. But, I will help myself to some of its blood.¡± The old man walked over to the gash that Tristan had carved and made a larger gap, then shoved his arm inside until he found the heart and cut it out entirely. Felicity flew down from above. ¡°I filled them in. We¡¯ll head to the town down the mountain, and then take them to see their families. Seems like everyone survived!¡± Hurvun took a bite out of the raw heart, and began eating it. He swallowed down a chunk, ¡°You can drink the blood alone, but I like eating it as well. The meat doesn¡¯t do anything special, remember.¡± Felicity made a gagging noise, ¡°Bleh! Disgusting.¡± She looked at Tristan, ¡°You drank its blood?¡± Tristan nodded as Hurvun took another bite of the heart. ¡°Yes, I did,¡± Tristan said as he lay back on the ground. ¡°I wonder what exactly the blood did? Normally, drinking it gives an Anorox family member the resistance associated with the Elemental Realm it comes from¡­but a dragon from the Demon Realm? What could that be?¡± ¡°Enchantment?¡± Felicity asked. ¡°We could try it.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Try something on me.¡± Felicity nodded and performed the Command spell, shifting her paw-claws into Human hands as she did the spell gesture. ¡°Stand!¡± Tristan did not feel any pressure against his temples. ¡°Nope, nothing.¡± ¡°Huh. Look at that,¡± She cocked her head sideways as her paws shifted back to normal. ¡°That is quite interesting.¡± Hurvun walked over with the last few bits of the heart and gobbled them down before letting out a belch. ¡°Come on, boy, let¡¯s climb out of here.¡± ¡°I got some broken ribs,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Climbing is going to be painful.¡± ¡°Ah. Felicity, mind opening that storage dimension for me? I packed rope.¡± She did so, and Hurvun clambered up to the cave above before climbing back down on the rope. ¡°The group of townsfolk are going to head back to the town, and we¡¯ll join them soon. First¡­we have a dragon to butcher.¡± Chapter 46: Butchering a dragon and grim portents
Butchering the dragon was relatively quick, all things considered. Hurvun mentioned that de-scaling the dragon was the most time consuming part, but this creature they could just make some cuts and peel the weird, serpent-like skin away. There were not claws, but the teeth were worth harvesting and those were really easy to cut out ¨C Tristan just had to slash apart the mouth with his blade and then they would dry the jaws out to pry the teeth loose. There was a lot of meat. A ludicrous amount. Easily five-hundred pounds. Felicity shook her head, ¡°I am not putting that inside of my storage dimension! No way! The skin, sure, because we can use that for crafting something maybe. Same with the jaw and those teeth. But we are not just taking hunks of meat!¡± Hurvun began to make an argument, but Tristan cleared his throat. ¡°Grandfather, if she said no, she means no. Just haul as much as you can on your back. Felicity, would you please pull out the burlap sacks from storage?¡± She did so, and Tristan scooped up huge chunks of the bendy flesh, shoving it into the bags until they were full to the brim and barely able to be tied off. Hurvun hefted one bag, and he hefted the other as the older man clambered out of the pit up the rope. Tristan waited until he reached the top, and then looped the end around his foot before tugging a few times. A few minutes later and his grandfather, alongside to Tristan¡¯s surprise, a few of the half-Broxtar, had hauled him up. ¡°These fine folks are going to accompany us down the mountain path,¡± he stated. Tristan handed the meat sack to one of the townspeople and followed them on their descent from the heights. During their walk back, Hurvun explained how Tristan would de-scale and de-claw a dragon that was more traditional. ¡°What you would do normally with the claws is what we did with the jaw. You take off the whole foot at the ankle joint, then cut away until you have the claw and meat of each ¡®finger¡¯ of sorts. Let the flesh dry, then you can peel it away and get your prize. Scales are trickier, and the hide under cannot be harvested until you get through the scales. The easiest way is to keep them joined together.¡± ¡°How would you get to the flesh, then? I imagine you¡¯d have to deglove the whole thing, then let the flesh dry out before peeling off the scales.¡± ¡°Through the ass, son.¡± Tristan almost retched and Felicity did retch ¨C splattering the mountainside behind them. ¡°Seriously?¡± Tristan asked as he choked back his vomit. ¡°It¡¯s where you can make the biggest incision before peeling it away like we did with the demonic dragon down below.¡± The idea was revolting, but then a thought raced through Tristan¡¯s mind. ¡°You said you¡¯d never seen a dragon like this, right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re probably the most learned person besides a scholar on dragons, right?¡± ¡°Yes¡­where are you going with this?¡± ¡°How did the king¡¯s scout know what a demonic dragon looked like?¡± Hurvun opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. ¡°I¡­huh¡­that is strange. How would one of the king¡¯s scouts know what it looked like. And why would the king¡¯s scout, normally someone who finds game locations for hunting journeys, be this far abroad?¡± Tristan glanced down at his amulet, ¡°I¡¯ll bring up our concerns with the Archon when he next contacts me.¡± ¡°Same here.¡± Hurvun clapped his hand onto Tristan¡¯s shoulder, ¡°You did good, slaying a dragon all on your own. Granted, it was not a real dragon like the ones from the Elemental Realms.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve told you; I killed one of those.¡± ¡°Yes, but from what you told me, it was mostly essence-weaving that did the trick, and you could only do it because you were in the Fey Realm.¡± ¡°¡­It had a means of regeneration,¡± Tristan mumbled.
After reaching the town below, Tristan channeled essence into the ring and transported the survivors to the Fey Realm. They were escorted to their companions, and both Tristan and Hurvun washed up before the latter went to join the half-Broxtar people for a feast primarily consisting of roasted dragon meat. Tristan chose to linger behind, as he wanted to meditate. Going up to the top boughs, he went to one of the open platforms and sat down. Felicity flew over and landed next to him. ¡°Probably not a smart idea,¡± Tristan said as he glanced over at her. ¡°I tend to freeze the area around me when I go into my inner world.¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯re doing that now?¡± she asked with some enthusiasm. ¡°Yes. The Matriarch said it was a good way for me to practice, and she has been right thus far.¡± She sat down and nodded, ¡°Well¡­I¡¯ll leave you be, then.¡± She flew off towards the distant sounds of revelry. Tristan sighed and began reverse-spinning the top half of his crucible as he spun the bottom half normally. He felt the pulsing of the Realm all around him as he sucked in the ambient essence and pushed it out at the same time. Closing his eyes, he practiced the breathing technique that The Matriarch had taught him, and envisioned his essence crucible. He could see the silvery core crisscrossed with three lines ¨C the crimson and gold intertwined, the icy-blue, and a new, smoky-black line. He felt himself sink deeper and was inside of his inner world. Walking over to the tree, he saw that the second ring was full, and a little bit of progress to the third ring had been made. But, the increased essence capacity between the second and third ring was a large distance. Far more than the distance between the first and second. No wonder grandfather never got past Second Order spells, he thought. Placing his hand on the tree, he spoke softly. ¡°I want to know if you can show me the different spell types I have access to. If that¡¯s something that my essence crucible can do.¡± He felt kind of silly, talking to a tree that was surely just a manifestation of his bloodline within his essence crucible. Why am I asking for it to do that? Tristan thought, when I could just order it? He cleared his throat as no change was apparent on the tree. ¡°I order you to show me a list of the spell types I can use.¡± The circles that were filled with the silvery light were gouged instantly; small channels appearing in the flowy language of Elvish that instantly translated within Tristan¡¯s mind thanks to his bloodline and heritage. Dragonbane, ice elementalism, illusion, flora, imbuement, artifice, enchantment, fortune, fire elementalism¡­and smoke elementalism? Huh. Maybe I would have also gotten enchantment if I did not already have it? He pulled away from the tree, ¡°Thanks.¡± He went around the perimeter of the crucible, finding dents and smoothing them out with his hands, feeling a warm sensation in his torso as he did so. It took more time than hammering them out, but he was not in a rush. Eventually, when he had found all of the dents possible, he focused on returning to the waking world. Opening his eyes, he saw that the platform was crusted with ice as he had expected. Standing, he looked out and saw the bonfires had begun to die out. Felicity was lounging on a branch nearby and flew down to land on his head. ¡°Come on! Off to the bath for you! I¡¯ll go ahead and tell them to make it nice and hot.¡± She flew off and dove into the center of the tree. Tristan followed down the spire and passed his grandfather and The Matriarch who were passing by on the way up. ¡°Your grandfather expressed interest in the night sky,¡± The Matriarch said softly. ¡°Goodnight, Lord Tristan.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Goodnight,¡± Tristan replied as he kept descending. Eventually he reached his chamber and saw to his delight that the tub was full of boiling hot water. Stripping out of his armor and clothes, a few fairy dragons flew in and took the clothes away to launder, whilst his armor was being polished and scrubbed clean. The same with his sword. Felicity was curled up on the bed, opening an eye once Tristan got into the tub. ¡°What was it like, drinking a dragon¡¯s blood?¡± ¡°It was¡­fine?¡± Tristan replied. ¡°It was not fun or enticing, for sure. But something that needed to be done. Especially since it gives me resistances to spell types.¡± She nodded and shut her eyes, ¡°And you gained a new spell type, from what your grandfather said at the party. It was not a very fun one, by the way. Just lots of conversing around the firelight and a bunch of roasted meat. Yuck.¡± Tristan nodded, ¡°Broxtar are renowned storytellers. It makes sense that their children would take after them in that regard.¡± He luxuriated in the hot water, closing his eyes and relaxing. ¡°Pardon us, Lord Tristan.¡± He opened his eyes and saw a pair of fairy dragons who were flapping just above him. ¡°Your water is very dirty. May we refill it?¡± Tristan looked down. Ah, right. All the blood and gore. He dunked his head under the surface to scrub free as much as he could before he got out of the tub. Glancing at the pool nearby, he shrugged and lowered himself into it, feeling the smooth bowl along the bottom. Felicity was staring at him, her tail swishing back and forth. Her head was resting on the bed still, ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°A hot bath. We don¡¯t take them.¡± ¡°Oh. Well¡­it¡¯s quite soothing and relaxing.¡± ¡°Can I try when it¡¯s refilled?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Tristan said as he enjoyed the lukewarm water of the pool. When the tub was refilled, Felicity flapped over before switching to her elfanoid form and dipped her toes into the surface. ¡°Ouch!¡± she pulled her foot out and immediately ran over to the pool, shoving her foot into it. ¡°How can you bathe in that?!¡± Tristan chuckled and hefted himself out of the pool before sinking into the luxuriantly warm waters, ¡°Fire dragon blood,¡± he replied. ¡°Gives me resistance to heat.¡± She pulled her toe out of the pool and knelt next to the tub, resting her head on it and looking at Tristan¡¯s face. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she softly asked. ¡°I am,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°Just concerned. The king¡¯s scout knew what this dragon we were hunting was, but not even grandfather had seen one before.¡± Felicity frowned, ¡°Wasn¡¯t the kingdom of Bhant founded by a Demonkin who led his people to found a kingdom in the Mortal Realm?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°What if someone in the king¡¯s court brought the thing into the Mortal Realm? Loosed it in a nearby region to destabilize it for expansion. For all we know, it could have been working for the king and softening a military target.¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°That¡­makes sense if the king wanted to expand. But he doesn¡¯t seem like the type to desire an expansion of his holdings.¡± Felicity shrugged, ¡°Just a thought.¡± She walked over to the bed and laid down on it, kicking her legs up and down in little flutters. Tristan pondered the idea. I¡¯ve met King Arinclex VIII a few times during court visits. He seemed a reasonable man. He never came off as aggressive, or hostile, and the kingdom doesn¡¯t need to expand. There¡¯s no need for housing, or more farmland ¨C and even then, the Gredo Expanse is not suited to farming. It¡¯s just a bunch of mountains! And it¡¯s not like it¡¯s a united region, just disparate city-states which are loosely affiliated. Even if the kingdom needed to mine resources, they could just find some section of the mountains away from the city-states and do it there. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to follow the pattern of the roots with his eyes before losing the pattern in the tangle. I¡­I just don¡¯t know. Hopefully the Archon has some insight. He got out of the tub and dried off with one of the leaves, making sure to keep himself covered up. ¡°Um, Felicity? Mind letting me have my bed?¡± She looked up at him, ¡°Please, it¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t seen that before.¡± She shifted shape into her fairy dragon form and grabbed one of his pillows, taking it to the corner of the bed and fluffing it before curling up on it. Tristan got under the covers and closed his eyes. There was no noise, save for the slight breathing of Felicity nearby. He tried to fall asleep, and eventually, sleep found him.
The next morning Tristan, Felicity, and Hurvun took the horses out of The Fey Realm and rode along the mountain paths to a nearby city about a half-day travel from Pass Hold¡¯s ruins. Tristan returned to the Fey Realm while his grandfather explained the situation to the people in the town of Parson¡¯s Mine. In the Fey Realm, and handful of the half-Broxtar asked for permission to stay in the fantastic place, and Tristan looked to The Matriarch for guidance, but she shrugged. ¡°It is your domain, Lord Tristan. You decide.¡± ¡°What long term effects would it have on them?¡± ¡°I do not know. No non-Elves have stayed in the Fey Realm. But, as long as they are not essence-weavers, they should not disrupt the environment too much.¡± Her visage darkened slightly as she tilted her head forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. ¡°If an essence-weaver spends too long here¡­the portions of the Fey Realm that are sealed off may awaken once more.¡± That sentiment sent a chill through Tristan. ¡°I do not believe any of them are essence-weavers. I choose to allow those who wish to stay, to stay,¡± Tristan replied as he looked out over the crowd. ¡°Those who wish to stay, speak with The Matriarch here regarding getting yourselves more permanent shelter, and perhaps some idea as to how you can help efforts here in the Fey Realm. I will warn you, though, we don¡¯t have meat. Just starberries. Cooked up? They taste like a good, juicy beef steak.¡± There were sounds of assent, many thanks sent his way, and a few small goodbyes ¨C but it only looked as if single adults were staying. And one family. But the rest desired the Mortal Realm, and Tristan grouped them together for transport. As they gathered around, he pondered on The Matriarch¡¯s warning. She has mentioned that parts of the Fey Realm are sealed off. I will need to ask her what is sealed away, and how to approach it. When Tristan returned with the people from Pass Hold, he was approached by Chaun who bowed deeply, ¡°Thank you, Lord Tristan. I asked your Matriarch for permission to work at a forge, and she escorted me up to the top boughs of your tree. I know, I know, you had asked we not go there¡­but I had to do something to repay your kindness.¡± He produced an item wrapped in a well-worn cloak, and revealed it. A shining, steel maul that looked like the one Tristan had been training with in the Fey Realm. ¡°Everyone pitched in a bit,¡± he said, holding up a necklace with a series of metal rings interlaced through it. ¡°We all had bits and pieces of metal from falling stars; we gather them up each year during the Dark Season. We smelted them all together and¡­here it is.¡± Tristan lifted the two-handed hammer reverently. The grip was wrapped with the Demon Dragon skin, which gave it a slightly bumpy texture which would let him keep a solid grip no matter where along the length he grasped it. ¡°Thank you,¡± he softly said as he looked at the lustrous, almost-glowing-silver metal. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. We did not have enough for your grandf-¡± ¡°I¡¯m too old for new gear,¡± Hurvun replied as he walked over. ¡°But thank you. Come on Tristan, we should head back to the kingdom and report our success.¡± Tristan said some brief goodbyes and mounted up as the two rode back towards the kingdom of Bhant. His amulet began vibrating, and he pulled it out from his armor. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°Have you dealt with the beast?¡± Archon Grimtome asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°A demonic dragon. Tell me, how did the king¡¯s scout know what it was, when my grandfather did not even know?¡± ¡°A question I asked myself. I am privy to all of the king¡¯s council meetings, and there are, indeed, talks of expansion. I fear that some essence-weaver intentionally tore open a rift to the Demon Realm and brought the creature to the Mortal Realm, intent on destabilizing the region.¡± Tristan grimaced, ¡°The king summoned such a creature?¡± ¡°It was not him, I¡¯m sure of that. I have divined as much. But¡­I tried to divine whoever wanted to destabilize the region, but I was blocked. Logos, the Realm Protector of the Thought Realm, whom I must appease with essence as I use spells to tap into that place, was not sated with my offering. Which means someone else offered him more to prevent the knowledge from getting out. There are few who have a larger essence capacity than me in this world; let alone the kingdom. It could very well be a setup.¡± ¡°Another region seeking to destabilize the kingdom by throwing us into a war with the city-states of the Gredo Expanse,¡± Tristan reasoned. ¡°Once more you show profound wisdom despite your young age. Yes, I had the same idea. It would not be the Sapphire Coast, as we have good relations with their ruler. But perhaps one of our island neighbors to the south? Maladonia or Schlarz, perhaps? Or even the continent to the east; there are dozens of smaller kingdoms there who would benefit from conquering our bountiful farmlands.¡± Tristan knew the islands from maps alone. Maladonia was the island directly to the south, and Schlarz was the island beyond that. Both were large ¨C easily a third of the size of the continent of Gvand where the kingdom of Bhant was located. ¡°Time must run short.¡± ¡°Shit. I ran ou-¡± Tristan put the amulet back under his chest plate as his grandfather fielded his own message from the Archon. He filled in Felicity on what was discussed, and his grandfather finished his own conversation before letting the amulet down. ¡°What do you think, grandfather?¡± ¡°I think it is Schlarz. Half of the year the southern half of the island is fully inaccessible. They are almost fully reliant on their fishing culture for their food. Taking farmland would make them less reliant on trade and have more reliable food over the Dark and Freezing Seasons.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t sound very nice,¡± Felicity said. ¡°But who can blame them? Living somewhere cold all the time sounds horrible!¡± ¡°Not a nice place to visit,¡± Hurvun replied. ¡°Come on, son. Let¡¯s pick up the pace. It¡¯s mostly downhill, and we can let the horses really stretch their legs when we are on flatter, more forgiving roads.¡± Chapter 47: A mercenary ambush
Tristan rode slightly ahead of his grandfather as he felt the wind blowing past him. The two had let the horses really open up their speed once they got out of the mountain pass, and the duo cantered across the dirt roads that would eventually give way to cobblestone ones when they reached the heartlands of the kingdom¡¯s territories. Unlike the southern areas that Tristan had been in when hunting down Felicity a Season prior, the dirt was firm and almost baked from the sun and heat. It made travel easy, and as the night began to fall the duo arrived at a small village that was just to the side of the road. A lake spanned out nearby ¨C a large body of water that had several houses built along the edge; some on stilts just out over the water. ¡°Ready to head back to the Fey Realm?¡± Tristan asked. He had used his symbol¡¯s Disguise Form to assume his half-breed appearance now that they were back in the kingdom proper. Felicity was also invisible atop his head. Hurvun nodded, ¡°Get to it, son.¡± Tristan had not let that go unnoticed. No longer was he just ¡®boy¡¯, his grandfather was calling him ¡®son¡¯, which cemented in Tristan¡¯s mind that he had replaced his failure of a father; at least in his grandfather¡¯s eyes. ¡°On it.¡± He began spinning his crucible and pushing the essence towards the ring. Hurvun squinted his eyes as he looked across the village, ¡°It is not that late. We should see some type of movement.¡± He drew his enormous sword, which prompted Tristan to pull out his own. ¡°Keep your eyes peeled.¡± Felicity flapped up and into the sky, ¡°I¡¯ll go take a look!¡± She flew off to the village, and Tristan conveyed her actions to Hurvun. Less than thirty seconds passed before she came back with a worried look. ¡°Tristan, those mean, black-leather guys are here!¡± ¡°Black Company mercs? Why would they be this far out?¡± Hurvun frowned, ¡°To stop us from returning¡­for some reason.¡± He glanced at Tristan, ¡°I have some suspicions and a theory¡­but I am loathe to share right now.¡± He looked up at the top of Tristan¡¯s head where he knew Felicity liked to perch, ¡°Are the people alright?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, they are just in their houses. I heard the Black Company people whispering about an ambush,¡± Felicity spoke rapidly, and Tristan conveyed her message. ¡°Hmm,¡± Hurvun stroked his beard with his off hand, ¡°We could circumvent the village and ride around ¨C but if they were smart, they would have set up men off in the farmlands. And down the road. I would wager that the group here in the village is off duty and are relaxing.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Felicity said as she made biscuits on Tristan¡¯s head. ¡°They were relaxing and lounging.¡± After Tristan relayed the message, Hurvun cracked a wicked smile. ¡°Well, we can always ambush these ones who are resting up.¡± He dismounted and moved his horse to the side of the road, into a small crop of plants that came up to its haunches. ¡°Come on, son. We¡¯ll give them a right proper thrashing.¡± ¡°Killing them outright?¡± Tristan asked as he dismounted and brought his horse over. ¡°Is that¡­right?¡± ¡°Son, I can tell you right now, the only innocent reason a group of Black Company would be here is if they were on their way to relieve the groups in the northern towers. But the group we met up there were fresh; they did not have the weathered look about them that standing guard leaves on a man. They were hired for a task, and the Archon told me as much. Gave me a warning that a group was hired by a prominent noble who paid enough to keep their name secret.¡± Tristan gulped, ¡°I¡¯ve¡­never killed a person except those assassins. And they were coming after me. This¡­this feels wrong.¡± Hurvun put a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Tristan, you are going to have to come to terms with one truth in life; taking a person¡¯s life is never something you should do without qualm, but it is something you will have to do. The fact that you feel some type of remorse before even taking that action shows that your mother and I raised you right.¡± He began moving towards the village, ¡°If it makes you feel better, use that hammer instead of the sword. You can crush a few bones and take them out of the fight just as well as killing them would.¡± Tristan sheathed his sword and drew the starmetal maul. Felicity flew up into the sky, ¡°I¡¯m going to circle above, and I¡¯ll keep an eye out for reinforcements!¡± He felt his pulse quicken and his heart beating rapidly as they approached the sounds of light revelry from the now-relaxing, off-duty mercenaries. They were sharing raunchy stories about their various escapades; primarily stories of violence and oppression. But one story in particular caught his attention as they closed in towards the flickering firelight. ¡°Hey, Phil, you remember that one time a few Seasons back when we got to go out and suppress those rioters?¡± There was a cackle of laughter from another voice, just out of sight. ¡°Oh, I remember that! You took that big mace of yours and crushed some people right proper. I never got the word from the higher ups why that was happening.¡± ¡°Beats me,¡± the man replied, ¡°I just hit what they tell me and get paid. Plus, the extra benefits.¡± There was laughing once more. ¡°What benefits?¡± a younger-sounding voice asked. ¡°Ah, lad, you¡¯ll learn the best benefit of being on the kingdom¡¯s coin is that we can do whatever we want to the smallfolk. They can¡¯t complain, they can¡¯t fight back, so what do they do? They just take it! Phil, that same riot, you remember that cute blonde-¡± ¡°Yes,¡± this Phil replied. ¡°The one with the small tits. I remember her fondly. She felt so right-¡± Tristan got around the edge of the small building made from wattle and daub. He was illuminated by the flickering firelight, and the conversation halted. He was fuming, feeling rage for what these men were describing. Letting his spinning crucible push the essence out into his body, he diverted the flow to his armor as the protective shell encased him. Without a word, he charged forward and slammed the maul into Phil¡¯s shoulder; sending the man flying across the fire and into a crumpled heap on the other side of the small gathering. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Hurvun leapt into action right beside Tristan and began carving into the mercenaries. A cry of alarm went up as the rest of the mercenaries went into action, grabbing up weapons as best they could. One of them went for a warning horn, but Felicity flew down ¨C invisible to them ¨C and snatched it away before circling up into the sky. To the mercenaries¡¯ eyes, their warning horn just went flying off into the night. Tristan advanced on the next mercenary who tried to draw their blade in time, but he crushed their shoulder with one mighty swing that sent them crumpling to the ground. He brought the handle up to deflect an incoming blow from his side, sending the weapon flying out of the mercenary¡¯s hands as he then twisted the weapon about to thwack him with the shaft of the hammer. The mercenary went off balance, and Tristan followed up with a powerful swing to the leg, smashing it as they collapsed. The screaming of agony permeated the air, and Tristan risked a glance at his grandfather. The older man was decimating the mercenaries that circled up around him; keeping them at bay with large, sweeping strikes and occasionally picking one of his assailants off. His armor, also, had fully covered his body ¨C a deep, crimson with green lines running along the seams. Felicity shouted down, ¡°Tristan! One is running for help!¡± Tristan tried to look past the five that advanced on him and shook his head, ¡°I can¡¯t get them! Can you?¡± he shouted back. ¡°Right!¡± she flew off, and Tristan was forced to focus on the melee before him. Swings came in from each direction and he deflected them with ease. Even when their blades slid down the shaft of the maul, his gauntlets stopped them. Tristan felt the impact and knew he would be bruised; but he was able to use their surprise to perform vicious counterattacks. The crunch of bones breaking and snapping filled him with a visceral sense of satisfaction. Sure, maybe not all of them had done heinous actions, but the fact they were so comfortable sharing those experiences with one another told Tristan all he needed to know about The Black Company. Their name was not merely because of their armor ¨C it was also due to their reported behavior. If the group was not run by the king¡¯s cousin, then they would have been kicked out long ago. But to a kingdom with a relatively small standing army? Well-trained, without a doubt, but small? Extra manpower was needed. And these bastards filled that role. Tristan felt no remorse at what he was doing as his grandfather¡¯s words echoed through his head. Plus, he wasn¡¯t trying to kill them ¨C except that one Phil guy whose skull he had caved in. He was striking crushing blows, but nothing lethal. Well, perhaps it would be lethal if not tended, but Tristan did not care. Even though he felt anger in his gut, the cool essence pushed that down and replaced it with a calculated, precise hatred. His strikes were perfectly placed thanks to his intense training with The Matriarch. His inner world sparring against imagined enemies, both singular masters like her and groups of opponents made this fight easy. His armor helped quite a bit, as he knew several strikes got past his defenses only to be rebuffed by the armor. That is until one of them brought a mace to bear and got a lucky strike in. Tristan felt it crunch into his right shoulder and felt an intense pain spread through the joint as his arm went limp. He backpedaled rapidly and dropped the maul, drawing his sword with his good hand and feeling his survival instinct kick in. No longer was he taking cautious strikes to disable foes ¨C this was a possible life or death scenario. He dispatched the one with the mace by pushing his essence into the blade to extend the reach, stabbing the assailant through the throat. Wait, that gives me an idea! He focused essence into the cloak to use the stored Thrice Command spell. ¡°Lay prone now!¡± There was an invisible pulse of force that emanated out from him, and the mercenaries in front of him and encircling his grandfather all went prone on the ground. Hurvun wasted no time in dispatching the ones surrounding him, and Tristan did the same for the group before him. As both took deep breaths, only the sound of the whimpering and pained cries of those Tristan had injured with the maul could be heard. Felicity came flying back and her paw-claws were red and bloody. ¡°I got the one that went off to warn the others! Well, I didn¡¯t kill them, but I definitely kept them from finding their allies. Blinded them right proper!¡± Tristan frowned, ¡°But he can still talk.¡± Felicity flapped over and looked at his crushed shoulder pauldron, ¡°Yikes. You look hurt. Elixir?¡± ¡°Please,¡± Tristan said as he let the essence fade from the armor. He let out a grunt of pain as the pauldron shrank slightly and pushed down on his cracked joint. Felicity reached into her storage dimension and pulled out a vial of the elixir, ¡°That puts us at eight healing elixir ¨C lesser.¡± Hurvun came over and frowned, ¡°Tristan, you¡¯ve got good hearing ¨C better than mine. Listen to see if reinforcements are coming.¡± Tristan closed his eyes and focused on his sense of hearing as he swallowed down the elixir. He could hear the faint sound of shouting off in the distance, ¡°The one Felicity blinded sounds like they warned their fellows.¡± Hurvun clicked his tongue, ¡°The spell you used to get them all to drop prone ¨C can you do that again?¡± Tristan nodded and spun his crucible, feeling the power flow through him. ¡°Maybe twice more?¡± Hurvun grinned, ¡°Good enough.¡± He reached down and grabbed Tristan¡¯s maul, placing it into Felicity¡¯s storage dimension. ¡°Until you¡¯re healed up. Even with an elixir, a crushed shoulder is not going to heal up instantly. Well, maybe if it was supreme quality.¡± Tristan followed him over to the horses and they re-mounted. Tristan whispered to his mount, ¡°Just follow your buddy here and try not to jostle me too much, please.¡± He winced as he felt the shoulder grinding in the crushed socket. The horse let out a snort of response as it followed Hurvun¡¯s mount along the road. Hurvun spoke softly, ¡°Be ready with that spell ¨C and this time, try to ignore me as a target if you can.¡± ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t know it affected everything around me,¡± Tristan replied. ¡°My bad.¡± He looked over to Felicity who had perched on top of the saddle in front of him, ¡°Can I restrict enchantment targets?¡± ¡°Yes, silly. You just have to envision the effect going around whoever you don¡¯t want affected.¡± She began wiping her paw-claws on his cloak, ¡°And make sure you don¡¯t affect me. I¡¯d imagine since my species is subservient to you by nature, I have no chance of resisting even if I wanted to.¡± She spat down on her paw-claw and kept wiping them clean on his cloak. Tristan nodded and looked up as Hurvun cleared his throat, ¡°Son, get that spell ready.¡± Tristan spun his crucible as he saw the shadows moving up ahead. Thanks to his heritage, he could see in the dark and make out the black-clothed figures wearing studded-leather armor. He also saw the characteristic shape of crossbows. ¡°Drop the weapons!¡± he shouted as he used the cloak once more, activating Thrice Command. He saw the weapons dropped from grips, and felt his essence drain prodigiously as his eyelids began to flutter from the expenditure. A little more. ¡°Felicity, essence elixir. Now.¡± She reached into her dimension, pulled one out, and he slammed it back, gulping it down his throat. He felt the warm power coursing through him and beginning to seep into his essence crucible. But, instead, he did the dual-direction spin of it, and sucked up all of the essence whilst empowering his next use of the cloak¡¯s spell. ¡°Lay down now!¡± he shouted once more. The pulse of energy went out from him, and he saw all of the mercenaries drop prone. ¡°Grandfather, now!¡± The older dragonslayer spurred his mount onward, and thanks to Tristan¡¯s earlier command to his mount, he kept up. But Tristan felt the draw of slumber upon his eyelids as he had drained his essence from the repeated Third Order spells. His remaining essence was a tiny amount, and he focused on pushing it towards the ring on his finger. ¡°Another elixir,¡± he muttered. Felicity uncorked another and handed it to him. Quaffing it down, he immediately made use of the energy. The duo kept riding into the night, far past the planned ambush point and off into the darkness. Chapter 48: Return to the estate
After gaining some distance they diverted to a copse of trees and Tristan activated his ring, taking the whole group back to the Fey Realm. Almost immediately, the fairy dragons swarmed them. Tristan waved them off, ¡°Food, clearcool, and a hot bath, please. And if we have a doctor? Or if any of you can use rejuvenation spells? Come to my chamber.¡± A pair of fairy dragons went flying off, ¡°We know just the fairy dragon!¡± they shouted in tandem as they went bolting into the canopy. Tristan winced as he moved up into the tree accompanied by his grandfather. The older man grimaced, ¡°Crush injuries are never easy to heal from. Do not be surprised if you gain back only limited movement.¡± ¡°Worst case scenario I take The Matriarch¡¯s collar and somehow use that,¡± Tristan replied through gritted teeth. ¡°Think we¡¯ll face more ambushes on our way back to the capital?¡± ¡°Doubtful. A large group like what we encountered? Twenty-five by my count who were settling down, and probably another twenty-five who were actually waiting along the road to ambush. A force of fifty men would most likely not be backed up.¡± Hurvun split off when they reached the depths of the tree. Tristan went to his chambers and Felicity swapped to her elfanoid form to help him get out of the armor ¨C particularly when it came to the crushed, right shoulder pauldron. He winced and let out a hiss of pain as she got it unbuckled and slipped it off of his arm. ¡°Poor Tristan, getting himself all beat up.¡± She helped him get the other bits of the armor off and put them onto the rack nearby. Tristan sat on the edge of the bed, ¡°Yeah, I was a bit cocky with thinking the armor would protect me from everything thrown my way. Forgot that crushing weapons are effective against it.¡± Felicity sat on the bed next to him and kicked her legs idly, ¡°Yeah, well, be more careful next time, okay? You don¡¯t heal super fast like us fairy dragons.¡± She cocked her head sideways as she looked at his shoulder, ¡°Damn, that looks messed up.¡± Tristan let out a pained chuckle. A group of fairy dragons came flying in with heated buckets of water to fill up the tub, and another, larger, large-dog-sized fairy dragon flew in. ¡°Ah, Lord Tristan. You called for a healer?¡± Tristan nodded and was about to speak, but Felicity shouted over him. ¡°How do you not see this, you old fart!¡± The fairy dragon before him shifted into an elfanoid form that was like the Elf version of his grandfather in age, ¡°Now, little sister, that is no way to talk to your elder.¡± Felicity seemed to stew where she sat, and moved to the side as the older fairy dragon walked closer and inspected Tristan¡¯s wound. ¡°This injury is a serious one. Thankfully, I have rejuvenation at my disposal. Third Order should do the trick.¡± ¡°What¡¯s it called?¡± Tristan asked as curiosity helped to push aside the pulsating, grinding pain he felt. ¡°Cure Wound. A simple name for a spell, but the effect is simple as well. A singular injury can be healed, including all underlying causes prevent it from becoming an issue.¡± He chuckled, ¡°Well, unless you get¡­crushed once more. What caused this?¡± ¡°Hammer,¡± Tristan said as he pointed to his crushed pauldron on the armor rack. ¡°That would do it. Okay. Hold still. You will feel tension before the pain ceases. Ahem. Voima sis?ll?ni, k?sken sinua tulemaan esiin ja rauhoittamaan t?m?n uhrin haavan. Puhdista kaikki kipu ja palauta se oikeaan toimintaan ja muotoon.¡± (Power within me, I command you to come forth and soothe wound of this victim. Cleanse all pain and return it to a proper function and form). As he spoke, he placed both hands above Tristan¡¯s shoulder; hooking his thumbs around each other, keeping the index and middle fingers together, but extending the ring and pinky fingers outward ¨C almost like he was mimicking a pair of wings. Tristan felt an immense pressure ¨C as if someone was pushing against his shoulder from all sides. But he felt no pain, instead, a soothing relief accompanied the pressure before the pain vanished completely. The fairy dragon before him sagged a bit and took in some ragged breaths as his form shifted back to that of his usual form. ¡°That¡­whew. It has been a while since I¡¯ve done that.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Tristan said as he stood up and bowed slightly. ¡°Would you check with my grandfather and see how he is doing? If he needs healing?¡± ¡°My pleasure, Lord Tristan.¡± The fairy dragon dipped his head and left. Tristan went over to the armor rack and began hammering out the dent in the shoulder pauldron. Felicity walked over and tapped his once-injured shoulder, ¡°Looks like he healed you up nice and good.¡± ¡°Why¡¯d you call him an old fart? Other than lobbing an insult.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Just for that reason,¡± She said with a mischievous grin. ¡°It¡¯s how we fairy dragons are. We may act childish and playful, but we are the age we are. I¡¯m twenty, and he¡¯s well over three-thousand. The insult was appropriate.¡± Tristan nodded as he finished hammering out the dents. Then, he went to take a bath. Felicity laid back on the bed, seemingly falling asleep as Tristan soaked and let the heat penetrate his bones. When he got out and got dried off, he saw that Felicity was indeed fully passed out atop the covers. He nudged her slightly, and she rolled over to the far side of the bed; half-dangling off of it. He slid under the covers and made sure to stay far towards the edge.
Tristan woke up to someone hugging him from behind. He instantly bolted upright and scrabbled out of bed as Felicity blinked awake with a yawn. ¡°Morning sleepy.¡± ¡°Sorry! I, urm, you were on top of the covers, and I didn¡¯t want to wake you up to ask you to move.¡± Felicity yawned and shifted into her fairy dragon form, ¡°Nope, it¡¯s my bad for falling asleep while in elfanoid form. I tend to move around a lot when sleeping in that form. Versus this form, where I stay curled up.¡± Tristan walked over to his freshly laundered clothes and got equipped once more. Felicity helped him out with the armor, and then perched atop his head making little paw-claw biscuits against his skull as he left and joined his grandfather in the dirt circle with the horses. ¡°Slept in, did you?¡± ¡°I was gravely injured,¡± Tristan countered as he activated his ring and the two appeared in the copse of trees. ¡°Come on, son. Mount up. We are going to push hard today.¡±
At their faster pace the duo got back to the heartland of the kingdom within a few days. By Tristan¡¯s reckoning based on the position of the sun as it began to set, and the way the five moons began to rise up, it was the eight of Building Season. They passed groups of Black Company mercenaries, but the duo were not accosted in their travel. ¡°Seems like the single group was hired under the table,¡± Hurvun stated as they cantered along. ¡°Probably without the knowledge of their superiors.¡± Who wants us dead? Tristan thought as they arrived at the manor house. They must not want us to report back about the demonic dragon. And I doubt that the Archon¡¯s favor is something that is well-known, or that people have seen it on my family crest from a distance; especially since the king¡¯s favor is far more prominent and draws the eye. ¡°Grandfather, did the Archon give you his favor in secret?¡± ¡°He did.¡± Then they are most likely preventing the report about the nature of the threat we slew. Which means that whoever this person is that paid for the Black Company to ambush us on our either doesn¡¯t want us to report back about the nature of the thing we fought, or just wanted us dead for another reas- He sucked in a brief inhalation as a thought hit him. ¡°Grandfather¡­how good of terms are you on with father?¡± ¡°Fawkes? Not the best.¡± ¡°When you all left on your dragon hunts a while back¡­who did you leave to guard the estate?¡± ¡°Some of my old traveling friends. Why?¡± ¡°They weren¡¯t there when I arrived. It was Black Company. Waiting for me based on Felicity¡¯s spying.¡± Hurvun went silent for several minutes. ¡°I would not put it past Fawkes. He hates you because of what you are ¨C yet another reason I don¡¯t favor him as my child.¡± ¡°Have you told him that?¡± ¡°Of course. I¡¯m not a liar. I hit him with cold, hard truths hoping it would snap him out of it.¡± Tristan scowled, ¡°I would bet that father hired the Black Company to ambush us and kill us both. Think about it; he would become the family head and get rid of the son he detests.¡± Hurvun¡¯s face also hardened into a scowl, ¡°That seems like a distinct possibility. And, based upon this knowledge about the assassins and their clearing out of any Winterbloom bloodline carriers¡­he could have advertised the fact that his wife was one of such bloodline to get rid of her. He always hate me for forcing him to marry her when she became pregnant.¡± Tristan felt a hatred flare up in his chest as the manor came into sight. At the front gate were Black Company guards that he could clearly see thanks to his Elven eyes. ¡°Grandfather, they are waiting for us.¡± ¡°Shall we give them a trouncing?¡± the old man asked with a curt, scorn-filled tone. ¡°If father hired them to kill us, we should sneak in. He might be in the capital for all we know. Come, I have a way over the walls ¨C but we¡¯ll have to leave the horses with Mr. Perry.¡± ¡°Ah, the apple grower. How is the old guy?¡± ¡°Cheery as ever,¡± Tristan said as he directed his horse to circumvent the manor and its stone walls marking the edge of the boundary. They went through the familiar-to-him orchards and arrived at Mr. Perry¡¯s apple orchards. Riding up to the house, Tristan explained their need to stable the mounts, and the kindly older man was more than happy to let the animals stay in his stables. ¡°Would you like to come in for a hot slice of apple pie? Freshly baked!¡± ¡°No thanks,¡± Hurvun replied with the grimace still etched on his visage. ¡°We have to get back to the manor and investigate.¡± ¡°Oh, those black-armored men have been scaring off my field hands again. Keeping you out too, eh? I heard that Fawkes had taken the mantle of family head.¡± Hurvun¡¯s face screwed up into one of rage, ¡°We will see about that. Come, Tristan.¡± He wheeled about and Tristan followed him through the orchard before passing him up and showing him the part of the wall he used as a child to sneak out with his half-siblings. The two men clambered over with ease and dropped onto the now-well-kept grassy lawn. A group of goats bleated nearby in alarm, and Tristan dashed to the building and got to the cellar entrance. Hurvun flattened himself against the wall, ¡°Tristan¡­if your father is the bastard who sent mercenaries after us, then I disown him. I name you as my heir.¡± He pulled his family crest out from around his neck and pulled a hidden emblem from the back, handing it to Tristan. It was a fingertip-sized, black star with seven points. ¡°This goes on the back of your family crest. The king himself hands these out ¨C no way your father is recognized as the heir without it. It cannot be replaced; that is how valuable it is.¡± Tristan took it with reverence and clicked it into the small socket on the back of his symbol, ¡°Thank you,¡± he said softly. ¡°I promise to make you proud.¡± ¡°You already have, son. Come. Let¡¯s go deal with your bastard of a father.¡±