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 – 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 – 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 – 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.”
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“Why do you fairy dragons leave, anyways? And where’s…anything else? There are no other animals I’ve seen. Or bugs.” It’s been quiet except for us talking and my footfalls. Plus, the clattering of my gear.
“It’s fun to get out and about. Living in a paradise can get boring, so traveling around in the Mortal Realm is like going on a vacation. Experiencing danger, possibly suffering injury? It’s exciting!”
Seems foolish, Tristan thought. If I lived in paradise I’d never want to leave. “What about other animals and bugs?”
“Only Elves lived here with the fairy dragons. We were companions. Your ancestors used to ride us around, when we got larger.” She wiggled a little in his grip, “Yeah, nope. Not strong enough to lift you up.” She then growled slightly, “Not that I’d let you ride on me, anyways, you big meanie!”
The idea of flying on dragonback was something that had never occurred to Tristan because they were terrifying beasts. Monstrosities of sinew and claw, covered in scales that only the strongest magic or specially artificed weaponry could harm. The idea of riding on one was terrifying…and yet the more he looked at the fairy dragons, the more he knew they weren’t anything like the dragons from the Elemental Realms. These things were more like house pets with wings than a force of nature made of claws, teeth, and fury.
He had trained his whole life to be a dragonslayer, and that continued to pull him away from that idea of riding a dragon. He sighed and kept bouncing along the odd mushroom-covered ground. The travel was comfortable, and his feet found sure footing every step. Like he was born to travel on these plants.
It was second nature.
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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.”
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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 – 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?”