Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

Tristan was taken aback as it said that, and he was speechless as the rest of the Spriggan emerged from the ground, standing up, taking breaths of the crisp air, and looking around at one another. They each were slightly different in their coloration – be it a shade of green or brown – and the small vines and flower design along their bodies were slightly different from one to the other.

Felicity landed on Tristan's head and made paw-claw biscuits, "This is Lord Tristan Winterbloom!" she shouted, her voice a roar. "The ruler of the Fey Realm."

"Father of the forest," the voices of the Spriggan said in unison; a rumbling, shaking, low tone that resonated through the air. The trees at the edges of the clearing began to sway slightly, and the one at the center behind Tristan seemed to straighten up, as if a proud, silent guardian standing at attention.

"Welcome to…life," Tristan said, his voice faltering slightly. Clearing his throat, he spoke louder, "You are the Spriggan." He looked to the first one who had rose, "Tell me what you know, and your purpose."

The light, glowing slights of bright, green energy stared at him as the Spriggan's eyes focused more intently. "We defend the Fey Realm, grow the forest, shepherd the trees, and will be our own people under your control."

Tristan looked to the rest of the Spriggan who had seemingly instinctively formed orderly ranks in front of him; their large, bark-greaves feet shaking the ground slightly as they walked. "And you all are aligned in purpose?" he heard a series of affirmatives. "Good. You will name yourselves, and designate one from amongst you who will serve as Warleader."

The first one who had spoken turned around and joined the ranks of the Spriggan. They all stood there, silent, and Onyx trotted over to Tristan, judging him with his horn. "Are we returning soon?"

"Soon enough," Tristan replied as his eyes saw the slight, pulsating of the grass and undergrowth at the feet of the Spriggan. Roots and tendrils that interlinked and connected to one another. That must be some type of conversation, he thought. They can connect their consciousness.

Felicity echoed his idea a moment later, "Oh! It's like an information network! Like mushrooms." She made paw-claw biscuits on Tristan's head, "By the way, my siblings found some amazing mushrooms that give you the nicest, most pleasant warm head-fuzzies. You should try them."

Tristan shook his head gently, "Not interested in altering my mind," he replied. "Drinking is about as far as I'll go with that."

The Spriggan all dipped their heads before the formation broke, and one who was three rows back from Tristan stepped out of line and approached. Just like the rest of his brethren, except his eyes were a brighter, almost glaring green hue, and the vine scrollwork running along his body was colored the same. "I am Krik, and will serve as Warleader."

"Then you will also represent your species in the Fey Court," Tristan replied. "A courtier. I would like to take you to them now."

Krik looked back to his fellows, "Only having just awakened, may we have a day? We must discuss."

Tristan nodded, "Of course. Do what you need to. Sunrise tomorrow, please go to the Queen's Wood. Do you know the way?"

"The Fey Realm's roots are like a map, Lord Tristan," Krik replied. "I will find my way."

Tristan held out his hand, and Krik looked down at it for a moment before using his thumb and index finger to grasp Tristan's hand and shake it. "Good." Tristan let go and mounted up on Onyx, "I will see you tomorrow, Krik." Tapping Felicity on the head, he whispered, "Get word to the rest of the fairy dragons and have them disseminate the news – the Spriggan have been remade and are back."

"Only if you promise to drink with me later," Felicity replied.

"Deal," Tristan replied as she lifted off. "Onyx, take us back."

The Unicorn broke into a trot, then a full-on gallop, back through the forest and trees. Tristan had just created an entire species. People who could think, speak, dream, and have their own goals. It was an immense power and responsibility. The gravity of it pressed down on him like a weight in the training field, and he chided himself mentally. I won't make other species unless we have to replace what was lost, he thought. I'm not going to abuse this power to make life.

Onyx was silent during the run, the only sound his deep, steady breaths as they raced through the trees toward the Queen's Wood. It was then that Tristan looked around for Onxy's armor, but then stopped himself from wondering where it had gone. Felicity probably has it and will deal with it, he thought. Speaking softly, he whispered to Zeltana; who was still present thanks to his constant both-direction spinning of his crucible tying him to the Realm. "Thank you for the guidance."

You are welcome, she replied with genuine delight pouring through her voice. You are proving yourself more worthy of my mantle with each action.

"I'm going to stop connecting to the Realm. I will speak with you another time."

Thanks for giving me the notice. I will be watching.

That left a sour taste in Tristan's mouth, and he spoke with a slight tone of disgust. "Hopefully not watching my activities with Felicity."

Especially those!

Tristan stopped the both-direction spin of his crucible, severing his channeling of the Fey Realm and shutting Zeltana out of his mind.

Arriving at the Queen's Wood, he saw that the various citizens and residents were putting together some type of celebration. Colored, hanging lights were being strung up along the branches around the exterior of the Queen's Wood clearing, and being laced throughout the trellis branches above the market area and crafting stations. The center of the clearing had been set up with tables; solid, rectangle blocks for the table itself with longer, wooden blocks for benches running down either side.

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Along one side was a higher rectangle table, that was the perfect size for unicorns to be able to eat food off of. And people hustled about – fairy dragons going around and preparing earthenware that was a shining, crystalline geode design that reflected the lights strung overhead. Gnomes were cooking over in the crafting station area, and the scents that assaulted Tristan's senses were delightful and made his mouth water.

Dismounting, he patted Onyx's flank, "Thanks for the ride. Don't forget to have Felicity take your armor back for fitting."

"Of course," Onyx dipped his head and looked toward a group of unicorns who were standing around Midnight, the only other black unicorn in the Realm. "If you will excuse me, my mate is due any day now, and I desire to be with her until the foal is born."

"Of course!" Tristan replied hurriedly. "You should be there for your first child's birth. If I need to ride somewhere, I'll ask another unicorn."

Onyx trotted away, and The Matriarch came over holding a large glass. She appeared tipsy, but her stride was perfectly measured. The slight slur to her words was the only hint to her drunkenness. "Lord Trishtan," she said as she dipped her head. "I have puth together a party. To shelebrate the Spriggan's return."

"Good," Tristan replied. "But they aren't planning on coming by until tomorrow. They are figuring themselves out."

She nodded and tipped back the chalice. "If you'' exshcuse me," she mumbled.

Tristan quickly walked up and grabbed her forearm gently, "I know you grieve the loss of what the Spriggan once were," he said softly. "Do not try to erase your memories by drinking them away."

The Matriarch nodded, "By your command," she said as her voice cleared up slightly, losing the harshness of the slurring. She headed off toward the cook stations.

Tristan headed to the Queen's Wood and saw that Bertram, Rory, Grandfather Hurvun, Felicity, Thallia, Dorni, and Prish were all present at the head table that stood just a bit taller than the rest. Empty seats were left for, he assumed, The Matriarch, the Spriggan leader, and himself.

But there was another seat that was occupied, and the figure was one he had not seen in a long, long time. Archon Obadai Grimtome raised his cup when he saw Tristan approaching. "Lad, you look hale!"

Tristan walked over and as Obadai stood up he hugged the older mentor. "When did you get here?" he asked incredulously. "How did you get here? Realmwalking?"

Obadai nodded as he pulled back and frowned slightly, "I told you I would visit once I was back on imperial soil. Finally got there – instead of taking the ship, I just chained together teleportation spells. Took a good few weeks, but I made it home." He grinned, "You look a bit different."

Tristan looked at the seat next to the Archon, occupied by his Grandfather. "Grandfather, can you swap seats with me?"

The older man nodded, "I see how it is. Gotta talk to your essence-weaving teacher."

Felicity barked out from next to Tristan's seat, "Hey! Come here, old man! I'm going to drink you under the table this time!"

Hurvun stood up and let out a bellowing laugh, "I'll out drink you, wing-rat!" He trundled over and he and Felicity both began their drinking competition, flagons of starberry wine and mead being poured into cups.

Tristan looked back to Obadai as he sat next to the Archon, "A lot has happened…let me start from the last time we spoke…"

Tristan went into detail about everything that had occurred up until that point, making sure to keep his retelling free of flourishes and to the specific details alone. His romance with Felicity, joining the Citadel of Essence, unsealing parts of the Fey Realm, the field trips with Bertram and Rory, artificing and making new gear, going to the Wild Realm, his encounter with the assassins, the Heavenly Realm visit, and his very recent creation of the Spriggan species. He ensured to not mention anything about Zeltana.

Obadai's expressions varied depending on the part of Tristan's retelling, but at hearing that Tristan had created a whole species, his eyes opened wide. "You…by the gods…" he shook his head in disbelief. "I'd love to see that process."

Tristan shook his head, "The Spriggan elected to visit tomorrow. They were just created today, and I imagine they need to think things through a bit-"

He was cut off by commotion at the far end of the clearing, and as he stood up to get some height, he saw the trees moving. Then, the Spriggan emerged. They walked with purpose, approaching the clearing, as all eyes were glued to them. The one in the lead, Krik judging by the eyes, was now adorned with glowing purple moss upon his branch-antlers.

He walked down the rows of tables to stand in front of the head one where Tristan now stood. Bowing his head, Krik's voice rumbled out. "We have had enough time, Lord Tristan. The Spriggan stand ready to serve the Fey Realm, and we desire to attend this function to integrate more efficiently with our peers."

Tristan grinned and was about to reply but The Matriarch beat him to it. "Welcome!" she said with a loud, bellowing roar. "Children of the branch and leaf, those who are formed from earth and clay, to grow underneath canopies green. You are more than welcome."

Tristan spoke, "Warleader Krik, please, join us here at the head table." He turned aside to Obadai, "We will speak more later. Tomorrow, after the festivities."

"Understood," Obadai replied with a somber nod, which then turned to curiosity as the Spriggan approached the head table. "Mind if I ask him some questions?"

"Go ahead," Tristan replied as he swapped seats with his grandfather to sit next to a now-very-tipsy Felicity in her elfanoid form. The rest of the partygoers began to mingle with the Spriggan, and the sound of conversation, laughter, and even music from some hidden orchestra in the branches of the top boughs filled the environment.

Felicity leaned against Tristan's shoulder, and she slipped the now-near-empty flagon of starberry wine to him. "Drink," she said.

"How could I refuse the commands of my love?" he asked as he took a swig from the remnants of the flagon. The sweet, slightly acrid liquid cut down his throat pleasantly, and he felt his cheeks flush ever-so-slightly.

Fairy dragons seemed to have set up a rotation throughout the evening – some would eat, party, serve food and drink, and then rotate roles. The Nymphs' glorious voices filled the space with not just cheer but a sense of raucous enthusiasm. The orchestra of fairy dragons, who only took a few breaks to fly down, grab some food and drink, and then returned to their perch high above – they had several melodies ready to go to accompany the different songs the Nymphs chanted out.

The only group of Fey Realm creatures that did not actively participate in the feast were the Gnomes, who were hard at work in the crafting area. Tristan excused himself from the head table to head that way, walking with a slight stagger as he was quite drunk by that point. "'Scuse me," he said as he spotted some of the Gnomes standing over stoves fueled by artifice. "Are you all going to party?" he asked.

The Gnomes each chuckled in response, and one of them he recognized by name, Head Miner Willham, now wearing a tall, white cap, replied. "Crafting of any type – be it food, metal, alcohol, or anything else, that is our delight and pleasure." The sentiment was echoed by the other Gnomes.

Tristan raised his hands in defeated surrender and backed away, "As long as you're not neglecting your own joy for the sake of ours. Everyone deserves to have fun." He turned on his heel, almost falling over as he caught himself on one of the workshop benches, and headed back to the head table.

The rest of the evening and night grew even more wild as the alcohol flowed freely, and by the time the Fingers of Night crawled overhead through the skies, Tristan and Felicity, leaning on each other for support, headed down to their room. Closing the door, they quickly disrobed and fell into bed together.

The happiest Tristan had been in quite some time.

"Ugh," Tristan groaned as he stirred in bed. His throat was dry, and his head was pulsing.

Felicity rolled over and rubbed his forearm, "Morning sleepy," she whispered.

Tristan sat up and held his temples as he hissed, pain surging at the sudden movement. "What time is it?"

"Mid-morning," Felicity replied as she snuggled up on his chest and dragged him back down to laying prone on the bed. "Let's just snuggle a while."

Tristan surrendered to her embrace and sighed with contentment.