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…”

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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.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“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 – all made from the same wood as the tree surrounding him. Flora spells must let you manipulate living wood so you can make objects with it. Or even carve this whole facility, I suppose.

The fairy dragons asked him if he needed anything. “I’ll just take that hot bath when I can get it. Food, drink, and those new underclothes.” He began taking off his armor, and to his surprise, a group of fairy dragons helped divest him of it, put it on the armor rack and began polishing it with their wings. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” the two who were polishing said in concert. Another fairy dragon unsheathed his sword, and yet another took the sheath and they set to polishing and maintaining the leather, respectively. In a few seconds he had been completely disarmed by the creatures.

A group of eight fairy dragons flew in carrying a massive, dull-grey wood basin. Tristan inquired what it was, and one of the eight replied. “Adamant Wood. It’s like that Mortal Realm Ironwood stuff, but way better. It rivals steel!”

“Good to know,” Tristan replied as the eight set the basin down near the pool of water, and then another group brought in a bunch of wood and set to working them to a flame. Tristan watched in fascination and in fits of chuckles as the fairy dragons worked as a focused and industrious group for their various tasks. But they were constantly ribbing each other and cracking jokes.

As the water got to a hot enough temperature, Tristan sank into the first hot bath he’d had in months. He sank into the water and mumbled a thank you as he let the warm fluid penetrate his skin and down to his bones.

After about an hour, a group of fairy dragons came in and had him stand up in the tub, took some measurements, and then set to carving apart long, thin reeds into plant-based string. One of them explained that it was called strandvine. “It’s what all of the Elves used to make their clothing out of.”

Tristan nodded and remained in the bath until the clothes were done. After drying off with some large, broad leaves that were roughly textured but wicked away the moisture – 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.

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“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!”

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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.”