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 – 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 ‘Nopeuttaa näiden kasvien kasvua. Auta niitä 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 – 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.

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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 – 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.

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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.

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“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 – 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 – one of the most common for healing injuries – 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 – 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.