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The room that he was greeted with was disappointing, to say the least. A circular chamber that was shaped like a bell – wide at the bottom edges and slowly, gracefully curving up to a singular point in the ceiling. Suspended from that center point was a slightly glowing seed that shone light below.
A small pedestal made of the same wood under his feet stood upright, and on it was a scroll – made from the same plant substance he had used earlier for his artifice spell. Walking forward, he noted another door beyond the pillar. An identical duplicate of the one he had just opened; save for the more intricate design. If I was a betting man, Tristan thought, that will take more essence than the first door.
He grabbed the scroll and unfurled it. The Elvish words were gibberish at first. But, just like the vault door, the letters slowly shifted until he understood exactly what it said.
> Chosen of the winter skies,
>
> Architect of the Realm’s rise.
>
> The one that blooms in cold,
>
> And will never grow old.
>
> Do not fret, treasure lies beyond,
>
> These gates that test the spawn
>
> Of those who came before,
>
> Who planted treasure behind the door.
>
> When you find the power within,
>
> And can see the legacy therein,
>
> You will know true power
>
> As your might blooms like a flower.
>
> Your first reward for obtaining strength
>
> And showing your essence’s breadth
>
> Is to reveal a secret long gone,
>
> And kept hidden by those beyond.
>
> The Winterbloom alone can rule,
>
> The rest who try to command are fools.
>
> When you speak, they obey,
>
> If they do not, they feel dismay.
Tristan reached the end of the poetic verses and checked the back of the paper, not finding anything of note. A few items in particular stood out to him. The first and most important was the line ‘and will never grow old.’ Does that mean…I’m immortal? To aging? Or that I just won’t look any older no matter how old I get? He looked around the chamber thoroughly as he ruminated on that single line of text; letting his hands explore every single nook and cranny. But he found nothing.
Going over to the next door, he exhaled and focused on reverse-spinning his essence crucible, sucking in as much ambient essence as possible and filling himself back to full. Kneeling in similar grooves as the first door, and placing both palms on the wood, he channeled his essence as quickly as he could…and barely filled up a third of the door’s capacity. I was right. Looks like I need to come back when I’m stronger, he thought.
Leaving the vault, he returned to his room and sat on the bed. Treasure lies beyond…test the spawn…that’s obviously just referencing that there is more than this slip of paper in deeper chambers. And the ‘spawn’ is referencing those who are children of the Winterbloom bloodline. Makes enough sense.
Laying back on the bed and nestling his head onto the pillows, he pondered the last section of the text. Does that mean I can command other Elves or Elf-blooded people? And if they don’t, what, they feel discomfort? He rolled over on his side and set the parchment onto the bedside table as he shut his eyes, pondering what that could mean.
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“Morning!” a voice almost shouted next to Tristan’s ear.
He sat up instantly and glanced over at Felicity who was sitting right next to where his head was on a nearby pillow. “What’s up?” Tristan asked groggily.
“Not you!” Felicity let out a slight giggle. “Come on, go get breakfast. We have stuff to do today.”
Tristan held up the parchment he took from the vault, “Any idea what this means?”
She scanned it over quickly and then nodded slowly, “I heard that Winterblood were naturally authoritative and could command other Elvenkind.” She frowned, “And that brings up a disturbing idea…what if…what if the assassins that were sent after your mother and you were sent by other Elves? Ones that knew about your authority over them,” she slapped the parchment with a paw-claw for emphasis, “however that works. And, they decided to do something about it. I know it’s not talking about fairy dragons, because I n-e-v-e-r felt dismay when I wasn’t listening to your orders.”
The thought was disconcerting and Tristan frowned as he pondered the idea. What if father is not involved? I know Gisele is not based on her reaction to hearing the servants were slaughtered. I highly doubt it was Bertram, and it definitely was not grandfather. Could it be some…cabal of Elves that don’t want to be threatened by an authority figure? Mother or me being a threat just by being alive? Now that Felicity had put the concept in his head…it rattled around Tristan’s brain.
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Felicity rolled up the parchment, flew over to the desk, and shoved everything into the Extradimensional Storage. “Come on! Get up and let’s get a move on. You have to maintain appearances in the Mortal Realm.”
Tristan nodded and stood up, walking after Felicity, through the tree, and up the enormous central pillar before he arrived out front. The fairy dragons were out and about in full force, chatting, joking, and playing games. A handful turned and dipped their heads towards Tristan in acknowledgment but kept their raucous behavior going.
“Where is The Matriarch?” Tristan asked aloud to any who would listen.
One of the fairy dragons flew down to him and spoke in a gruff, deep tone. “She is patrolling the edges of the Fey Realm where incursions to or from other Realms may occur.”
Tristan frowned, “Is that normal?”
The fairy dragon nodded, “The patrols are normal. Incursions on the other hand? Not so much.”
Tristan walked to the center of the dirt circle and felt Felicity land on his head before shaking herself and shimmering slightly as she turned invisible. Alright, back to the townhouse we go. Tristan willed his essence into the ring and vanished.
His bedroom appeared once more and he felt the wooden floor under his feet. Going to the dresser, he swapped out to some daytime, casual, around-the-town clothing. A cream-colored cloth jerkin, a decent leather belt, cloth breeches, and supple, black leather boots. He made sure to put on the Insulating Socks – and found to his delight they were quite comfortable and not too warm in the slightest. He spun his essence crucible and channeled the energy through his torso and into the amulet around his neck – taking on his half-breed disguise.
Leaving the room and descending the stairs, he almost bumped into a young woman he had not seen before. “Ah, you must be Theresa,” he said politely as he flattened himself against the wall.
The woman was some type of half-breed from distant ancestors – the only indicator of her slight Demon heritage being some slightly sharper canines. She curtsied in her perfectly maintained outfit. “Forgive me, my lord.”
“Just Tristan,” he replied. “Just call me Tristan. I’m the-”
“The half-breed,” she replied curtly. “Forgive me, but I like working and not talking.” She brushed past him and let the bit of water in her bucket slop onto his feet.
“Please clean my room thoroughly. It looks like Marlowe skipped it for a few months.”
She nodded and made an affirmative-sounding noise before vanishing from view. I can’t get a good read on her, he thought. If she’s okay with half-breeds or not. Tristan continued his path downstairs and heard talking and laughing. Entering the dining room, he saw two people he did not recognize dressed in guard outfits, eating breakfast. They noticed him and dipped their heads in respect.
“Thank you, Lord Anorox, for opening your house to us during our shifts,” the woman on the left said. She had a crop of short-cut auburn hair and slightly red eyes – another sign of far-distant Demon heritage.
The other guard, a slim young man who was tall as a beanstalk and had sunken, hollow cheeks nodded in agreement. “Thank you, M’lord.”
Tristan sat down and smiled as Gertrude came out of the kitchen and set a platter in front of him with his favorite breakfast. “Just Tristan, please. And you would be Faith and Persim?” he asked.
The woman nodded, “I’m Faith, that’s Persim. We are on shift at the back door, and your lovely cook here invited us in.” The woman winked at Gertrude who blushed at the attention before returning to the kitchen. This prompted a chuckle from Faith, who looked at Tristan. “Well, Tristan, I thank you nonetheless.”
“Don’t mention it. I know how hard a guard’s life can be.” Tristan began eating the amazing eggs fried up in plenty of butter. Paired with a healthy few slices of crisped up bread – he was in heaven. “I have not eaten this in years,” he said as he dug into the second serving that Gertrude seemingly brought out on instinct.
Felicity put her head next to Tristan’s ear, “I’m going to go out and about and cause some havoc. That fine with you?” Tristan silently nodded, and Felicity flew back upstairs.
Persim shook his head after a few minutes of silent eating. “M’lor- erm, Tristan. That’s peasant fare.”
“And?” Tristan asked after swallowing a bite. “I appreciate the simple things in life.”
Faith smiled, “A lord who enjoys the simple things, eh?”
Tristan looked up at her and pointed to his currently-illusion-covered ears. “I’m a half-breed. And unlike you with it way down the line, I really show it off. I got used to the simple things when my father saw what happened.”
Faith winced and her smile soured into a frown. She nodded curtly and sighed softly, “Begging your pardon, then.”
“Don’t,” Tristan replied as he finished off his meal. Glancing back to the kitchen, he shouted back, “Great meal! I’m going to be off for the day.”
Gertrude popped her head out of the doorway, “Of course. Anything in particular for dinner?”
Tristan smiled and looked at the two guards at the table, “When is your shift change?”
“Sunset.”
Tristan looked back to Gertrude, “Let’s get a big meal together. All the staff, these fine guards – and their night shift counterparts.”
Felicity flew back down the stairs and perched atop his head. Once more, she whispered in his ear, “I stole a lady’s wig! She was panicking! It was h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s!”
Gertrude grinned broadly but there was a bit of panic behind the smile, “Of course, Tristan. But the cost-”
Tristan waved the concern away, “I’ll cover the cost out of my personal finances.” He reached down into his pocket, and he saw Felicity wave her paw-claw in front of his face as the storage dimension opened under his grip. He fished out ten gold coins and set them on the table. “Let’s really go all out, shall we? Make sure you cook enough for yourself to eat with us.”
Gertrude’s panic behind the expression vanished, “Of course! I’ll get right on it!” There was a glee behind her visage. “Cooking up a right proper feast is just what this household could use.”
The two guards went beet-red with either embarrassment or abash. “You don’t have to do that for us, Lord Tristan,” Faith muttered.
Tristan waved the concern away, “It’s fine. Now, would you two be so kind as to accompany me today? I need to go shopping. Crossmark Square should have what I need.”
The two guards nodded, scarfed down the rest of their food, and then walked the dishes over to the kitchen before emerging once more. They picked up the halberds that Tristan had not noticed were laid along the floor on the far side of the table. “Of course.”
He waved goodbye to Gertrude who gave him a wave back, and setting out the front door he greeted Benjamin and Benji, notified them of his plans, and was bid farewell as the younger of the two men split off to go to the back entrance of the townhouse.
Traveling through the city was uneventful. Tristan was a noble, with his seal on prominent display on his chest, with the king’s favor slotted on top. And he was escorted by two of the crown’s finest – not just mere mercenaries like The Black Company.