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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 – 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 – 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 – 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 – not The Black Company, thankfully – 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 – 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 – 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.”
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Finding an herbalist outside of the capital was easy enough – 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 – 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.
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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 – 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 – each is a little hideout. We’ll find each other there.”
Tristan found one such cave as night began to fall – 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 – 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 – 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 – alchemy, cooking, smithing, tailoring – 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 – 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” – 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 – 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…”