Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

A few hours passed in blissful rest for Tristan. Just relaxing on the bed, talking softly to Felicity as he shared his thoughts on everything that happened the day before – from slaying the Spriggan that were infected, to his tutorial from Zeltana, and the creation of the new species itself.

"I'm a little afraid," he said softly as he ran a hand along the side of her head, his fingers tracing a tiny circle in her hair around the small antlers atop her crown. "It is a lot of responsibility. I mean, I'm responsible for them, now."

"You're responsible for the whole Realm," Felicity replied softly as she rubbed his arm, her head resting on his chest. "It comes with the territory of being a ruler."

Tristan nodded, "I know. But I can still feel a bit overwhelmed by the fact, can't I?"

"You can feel whatever you want," she replied. "As long as you are still you, and that fear, or whatever you feel overwhelmed by – that doesn't change what you do." She raised her head, propping herself up on her elbows and locked eyes with him. "Just do what you do, and be confident about it."

There was a knock at the door, and Tristan gently extricated himself from Felicity, standing up, throwing on some basic pants and a jerkin, and opened the door. A fairy dragon was on the other side, and flew up to head height. "The Human from the Mortal Realm wants to talk."

Tristan glanced back to Felicity, "I have to meet with Obadai."

Felicity just gave him a brief wave goodbye, a cheeky little air-kiss, and then rolled over as she opened her extradimensional storage space and grabbed her Omnitome.

Tristan existed and followed the fairy dragon upstairs, across the clearing in front of the Queen's Wood which had been mostly cleaned up. The large, squared-off logs had been stacked on a far side of the clearing for future use, and it seemed that everyone was still tipsy or hung over. "How are the wine and mead reserves?" Tristan asked.

"Not a ton," the fairy dragon replied. "Dorni said we only get to have a party like that once a Season!"

To be expected, Tristan thought. Now, let's see what Obadai's visit is about. He walked over to the tree-house the fairy dragon directed him to, and knocked on the door politely. A few seconds passed before the Archon opened the door. "I'm here," Tristan said with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I slept in."

"You drank a hefty amount last nice," Obadai said as he raised his quizzical eyebrow. "I have news, but also know you have a Fey Court. They may wish to provide their input. Any chance we can discuss while they are present?"

Tristan turned to the fairy dragon next to him, "Summon the Fey Court."

Tristan and Obadai were joined by the rest of the Fey Court in the council chamber. Including the newest member, Krik, who took a seat opposite Tristan at the farthest end of the table. Obadai was given a chair that was just a little pulled back from the table, next to Dorni and Thallia. "Okay, we are all here. Obadai, go ahead."

The Archon stood up and bowed, "For those who have not met me, my name is Obadai Grimtome. Archon, of the Lifebringers and Corpsecaller bloodlines." He produced a scroll from inside his robes and set it on the table. "I traveled with Tristan for many Seasons, even coming here many times, and helped to train him in essence-weaving." Obadai looked up to Tristan, "He has my trust, and I believe he trusts me, as well."

Tristan nodded and replied in confirmation. "Obadai provided wise council. Please, Obadai, continue."

The Archon unfurled the document which was a large map of The Mortal Realm. "The Empire of Dorcelli, whom I represent, have fully conquered the continent of Dorcel. We are expanding our foothold on Forsol from the north over the Deep Channel, and east to Klaktol along its western cities. We have begun to move into the Gredo Expanse north of Bhant."

"And why does this concern us?" Dorni asked.

"Forsol has a large population of Elf-blooded," Obadai replied. He looked to Tristan, "The Matriarch and I spoke some last night about your plans regarding giving your kin the option to return here."

The Matriarch replied, "Yes. We have diplomatic groups that are already preparing to venture into The Mortal Realm, and other Realms besides, to offer and then transport the Elf heritages back here."

Obadai continued, "The Empire of Dorcelli understands your efforts, and seeks an alliance."

Tristan tented his hands, resting his elbows on the arm rests of his seat as he leaned back. "I told you I am not interested in politics, Obadai."

The Archon sighed and pushed the map to the center of the table, "I know," he said with regret filling his voice. "And I am only here because my empress told me to do so. I am to present terms. You would not be providing any military assistance – only logistics. I am not the only Realmwalking capable essence-weaver, and our biggest issue is that the Empire does not have many fleets. Construction is underway, but we do not have designs for warships or troop carriers."

Krik's voice rumbled out, "You wish to use us as a supply depot and staging area. As teleporting across a whole Realm is taxing, but by using Realmwalking you can house troops and supplies here while your essence-weaver gets to the destination with a small force, and then the housed troops can emerge in the location you desire."

Obadai snapped his fingers, "Precisely." He looked back to Tristan, then around the table making eye contact with everyone. "You would not be giving us any military aid – just a small part of the Fey Realm that our men and supplies can stay in. We would bring our own food. Just space is all I ask."

Thallia spoke, her voice sounding quite terse and aggrieved. "And what would we get in return for our benevolence?"

Obadai reached into his robes and produced two pieces of parchment that were rolled up. "The first is a contract. A binding contract."

The Matriarch leaned over to Tristan and rapidly whispered, "Binding is a spell type that is focused around forming pacts and contracts that are not easily broken, and if they are broken, then extreme consequences may be suffered."

Obadai waited for her to finish whispering then continued, "The Empress, Naomi Celli, first of her name, ruler of the Empire of Dorcelli and its subsidiary states, offers the following deal; all Elves will be permitted to and provided with escort to locations in The Mortal Realm, where they can then be transported via Realmwalking performed by an essence-weaver, here to their ancestral homeland. In exchange for the housing and storage I spoke of."

Tristan frowned, "Obadai, please step outside while we discuss."

The Archon nodded and bowed at his waist, leaving the room as the fairy dragon guards closed it behind them.

The entire room exploded with various voices all overlapping.

"It's too dangerous," The Matriarch said confidently. "We should reject it outright."

"They have demonstrated their ability to seemingly enter the Fey Realm at will," Krik replied.

Prish spoke, "The entire point of putting together Thallia's diplomacy corps was to do what they are offering. Surely the sooner we get the Elves back, the safer they will be."

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Dorni grumbled, "I hate politics."

Thallia was the most fiercely opposed, standing up and near-shouting, "This will not stand! We cannot sign a binding agreement like a pact!"

Felicity did not speak, but just walked over to Tristan, shifting to her fairy dragon form, and perching on the top of his chair's back rest. The Sheepkin tailor, Dorothy, spoke in a firm, resolute voice that seemed to cut through the rest. "Lord Tristan."

As the other voices quieted, Tristan nodded, "Yes, Dorothy?"

She stood up, "I am opposed to this offer. Furthermore, we must restrict any Realmwalking access to the Fey Realm without authorization."

The Matriarch replied, "The Archon was permitted to realmwalk by me. A Realm Protector can control access, and is notified when such a feat is attempted."

"Remove his access then," Dorni stated. She looked to Tristan with near-pleading eyes but a placid expression. "I have seen the horrors of violence, and whilst I do not have personal experience with this empire from across the seas…the sound of their expansion leaves me cautious. What would happen if they chose to try and invade the Fey Realm?"

Krik replied brusquely, "Then they would fall to my brethren and I." He tilted his head slightly, eliciting a slight creak of wood bending. "I say we put it to a vote."

Tristan nodded, "All in favor of considering this pact and signing it?" No hands went up, but Prish's hoof clapped on the ground a few times, signaling his "aye" vote. "Those opposed?" Tristan asked. Every other hand went up. "Very well. We will reject this offer. And Matriarch? Please restrict future access. If Obadai wants to visit, he will need to go through the Citadel of Essence – which would not allow an armed military force through their halls."

She dipped her head, "When he departs, I shall reset access privileges. It is dangerous, possibly, to reject such a powerful essence-weaver. It might engender this empire toward disliking the Realm, which could turn into a hated foe. An "other" that some civilizations reply upon to scapegoat."

Tristan tapped his fingers on the arm rests, reaching one hand up to scratch Felicity on the head between her antlers. "Well…that is a risk we will have to take. Obadai said it himself – he is only here because his empress ordered him to come. It didn't sound like he wanted to be here."

"I'll say," Thallia replied. "Fine enough at the party last night, but I agree. And I am fantastic at reading people and their emotions. The mere idea of going against your already-stated wishes carried an undertone of disgust."

Tristan gestured to the fairy dragon guards at the doors, "Let Obadai in."

The doors were opened and a moment later Obadai was let in. "Well?" he asked expectantly.

Tristan replied with a firm, resolute voice. "The Fey Court has considered the offered deal, and we will reject it. I am sorry, Obadai, for how this may end up coming back to bite you."

Obadai grimaced but nodded, "I will be fine, I assure you. I notified the empress that this was the likely outcome." He walked up to the table and grabbed the various papers, pocketing them. "Thank you for hearing me out. Now, there is one non-empire related matter I wanted to discuss. One that affects both of us, Tristan. The assassins."

Tristan sat up a little straighter in his chair, "Yes?"

"They tried to take my life again. And they have been busy in The Mortal Realm, culling prominent bloodlines."

Felicity spoke, "We know they're based in The Demon Realm."

Obadai grimaced, "I had conjectured as much, but that confirmation…I know what is going on."

Tristan gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles going white from the strain as the wood cracked beneath his fingers. His voice was laced with hatred that rose up from deep in his chest. "Speak," he said, wanting to avenge his mother's death. Gertrude's death. The innocent soldiers who had protected him and died for their acts.

Obadai took a few steps back from the table, "First off, you need to understand demon hierarchy. It is very similar to the kingdom of Bhant – a ruling king or queen that is the strongest demon lord and Realm Protector. In this case, Demon King Duberceix. Below him are varying nobles – all Demon Lords. Then you have the citizenry, the Demonkin heritage. Lastly, various species – sub-heritage entities like those demonic bats and wolves we fought. Demonkin are the peasant class, and the Demon Lords rule them with an iron fist."

"Get to the point," Krik said brusquely. "We need to know the reason behind the threat to Tristan's life."

Obadai glanced back to the Spriggan, "I am getting to that," he said gruffly. Looking back to Tristan, he continued. "I think that a high-ranking Demon Lord, maybe even Duberceix himself, is using these assassins to slay prominent bloodlines to "reset the board" as it were." Obadai crossed his arms behind his back, "Prominent bloodlines almost always rise to a level of ruling. If the ruling class was eliminated, then strong, half-breed bloodlines could replace them. An insidious takeover of The Mortal Realm."

Tristan felt that rage simmering in his chest settle slightly, and glancing up at Felicity, almost barked out an order. "Put on your evil genius mindset. Go."

Felicity cackled and her voice dropped to a deep, monstrous one. "If I were this Realm Protector, I would not only be eliminating the bloodlines of prominence, I would also be kidnapping one of each of the bloodlines to interbreed with Demonkin. Then, raise the children and groom them to take the appropriate throne or title. Then they would have legitimacy as well."

Obadai's eyes went wide, "I had not considered that. I will need to ask Logos about kidnappings and abductions of those who have these prominent bloodlines." He pulled out a small notebook and began jotting some items using a small charcoal pen he produced from another pocket.

Thallia spoke, "We should wait for Eloise from the Citadel to finish her investigation and report back."

Obadai's eyes jolted up to her, "Eloise Serre?"

Felicity nodded and her voice returned to its chipper, usual tone. "Yup! She's the advisor for Tristan and me."

Obadai's gaze narrowed, "You are trusting a Demonkin with the investigation of the Demon Realm?"

Tristan nodded, "She expressed a vehement dislike of her Realm of origin."

Obadai jotted a few more notes in his notebook before pocketing it. "I understand, but I caution you regardless." He sighed, then a wan smile spread across his face. "It is good seeing you well, Tristan, and your Realm flourishing. I should depart."

"You will not be able to return with Realmwalking," The Matriarch stated. "With the expansion of your empire, we cannot bear the risk."

Obadai's face went tight, but he nodded, "I understand. If I need to visit in the future, how would you like me to go about it?" he asked Tristan.

"At the end of each Season, for a week, a portal will be open from the Citadel of Essence to the Fey Realm. You can travel from there." Tristan softened his tone, standing up, and bowing slightly as the rage for revenge faded away. "I will always give you shelter here if you need it…my friend."

Obadai's expression was hard to read, but judging by the slight softening of his grimace, Tristan knew he felt some level of being touched. The Archon bowed deeply, far past the point of respect and into near-groveling. "Thank you, Tristan. If you will allow, I depart." He stood up, and at Tristan's gesture, the doors were opened and Obadai was let out.

Tristan sank into the chair, "I thank the Fey Court for its time."

Krik spoke, "Lord Tristan, I request permission to heavily militarize."

"Now why would we need that?" Dorothy asked.

Krik's narrow, green slits portrayed no emotion, but the rapid speaking of his deep tones told Tristan all he needed to know about the calculating, warrior-mindset of the Spriggan species. "I am assuming the worst-case scenario. These assassins being controlled by the Realm Protector of the Demon Realm. If that is the case, then in order to avenge the Winterbloom's demise, we would need to either send someone to assassinate the responsible party…or declare war. An offensive against the whole of the Demon Realm."

"We don't need to let it get to that point," Tristan replied. "But I agree with militarization. Dorni? Shift focus from production of trade goods to weapons and armor. Spriggan can use communication spells, so let's make sure that every single helm can communicate with each other as best as possible." Standing up, he walked to the door, but stopped and spoke as he turned back to the table and arrayed courtiers. "Make no mistake…I will seek vengeance and justice for my mother, and all the others slain by these assassins. But I will not drag the Fey Realm into war. The Matriarch has our…backup plan for a Winterbloom heir on hand. This is not your war to fight – it is mine."

The Matriarch dipped her head in reverence, but Thallia spoke in a flustered manner. "That's stupid! Forgive me, Lord Tristan, but…really? You would risk yourself just to stop some assassins that cannot reach you in here?"

Tristan nodded, "I would. These assassins killed my mother. The most important person to me in the world." He gestured for Felicity to fly over to him, and she landed on his head, her tail flicking back and forth. "Not to mention if another Realm is making a power play for The Mortal Realm, how long until they choose to step out and try conquering other Realms? And, a single dragonslayer who is disguising their form can infiltrate. Especially one with perfect mastery of Demon's Tongue."

Thallia grunted and sat down, crossing her arms. "Fine…"

"What's this backup plan?" Dorothy asked.

Tristan looked to The Matriarch as he replied. "A means to produce another Winterbloom, and we will leave it at that as the specifics should not be allowed to get out." Tristan let out a breath and took another deep inhale, "Is that all?"

Krik stood up, "I would request that when the time comes to head to the Demon Realm, you allow a small cohort to accompany you."

"Once we know who is responsible, and I've gathered more information," Tristan replied. "I would accept a small group of volunteers to help me end this threat." Turning back to the exit, he left and headed toward the dirt circle that would be his departure point. "Felicity? Mind seeing if Bertram and Rory want to head back?"

"On it!" she flew away to find the dragonslayer and his wife.

Tristan thumbed the Fey Realm Ring on his finger, then reached a hand up to grab the Anorox family crest he still wore under his shirt. I'll avenge you, mother.