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. “Ilmentää muodon ympärille käärinliinan, joka sulautuu ympäristööni.” (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 – 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?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“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 hear.

“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 – 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 – who may or may not be dead as well – 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 – hopefully he’s far away in another region – 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.”