Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

Tristan felt the slight tingling dancing upon his skin as he strode through the portal. Felicity was perched atop his head, invisible to all save those with Elven heritage, and Eloise, who looked a far cry from her Citadel of Essence role of academic advisor. As soon as they exited the grey film, Tristan was taken aback by how similar the Demon Realm looked to Bhant's Holdfast.

They emerged onto city streets that were comprised of several smooth-polished, grey surfaces with small, black fractal patterns that bled into the edges of the gutters that carried wastewater and other detritus down to the depths below the city through grates that constantly trickled with the malodorous flow. Towering, grey buildings made of bricks that had been painstakingly stacked to reflect a perfect sense of orderliness and consistency stood anywhere from two to four stories in height. Balconies with solid, white railings juxtaposed the darker background.

The skies were the most different to what Tristan had seen before, having only glimpsed into the Demon Realm once when he fought a demon back in The Sapphire Coast. A dull, red expanse, with thin, ash-grey clouds slowly drifting off in the distance.

They had emerged into a city square which to Tristan's eyes was just a cross section between two streets in the city. Stalls and carts were set up, and he observed Demonkin dressed in clothes that ranged from mediocre and decently kempt to fine and upper-class, replete with buttons of silver and brass. Their skins varied in hue across blues, reds, greys, and black; each graced with a variety of horns growing from their heads, and colors that matched that of their skin tone. They were hawking wares, and as Eloise gently guided Tristan toward one of the streets, others came through the portal they had just emerged from to shop.

"This," Eloise said in Demon's Tongue, "Is the Demon Realm capital of Saumur. We are currently in the Market District, which is right in the middle of the middle-class part of the capital."

Tristan saw a series of small, goblin-like, squat creatures hustling about doing menial labor – picking up garbage, sweeping the streets, polishing windows; all of them were dressed in rags. Some had sacks on which had holes poked through for their arms and heads. A few of those bits and bobs of clothing were embroidered and embellished with a silver crown set against a circular field of black. Their skin tones were all varying shades of brown and grey, with beady, black eyes that looked like those of a predator. But they kept their heads down or their gaze focused on their tasks. "What are those?" he asked in a slight whisper.

"Imps," Eloise replied as she continued to guide Tristan down the street, before they took a turn down another street. "One of the species created by the Demon King – the Realm Protector - as a servant caste. They work in the cities and towns. The winged version that are a bit smaller are called Quasits – we won't see them in the capital unless we visit a messenger post."

Felicity was making her paw-claw biscuits on Tristan's head, and whispered in the Standard Tongue, "What's going on?"

Tristan glanced up at her and replied in the same language, also at a whisper, "We're talking about the little creatures."

Felicity huffed and grumbled, "I hate being left out of this stuff."

"Should've taken some of that downtime to learn Demon's Tongue," Tristan replied.

Eloise sighed and cleared her throat, speaking in Demon's Tongue, "Marius," she said, using Tristan's current alias while transmuted into his Demonkin form, "We should keep using our tongue whilst here, unless isolated indoors. Understood?"

Tristan nodded and poked Felicity with a finger right in her side, "Understood?" he asked in Standard Tongue.

The fairy dragon pouted, but nodded, and sat a little straighter up on his head. "I'll keep an eye out on the rear." She turned around and planted her rump on his skull.

Tristan turned back to Eloise and swapped to Demon's Tongue once more, "What's the plan?"

"We'll head deeper into the capital, on the lower-middle income end," Eloise replied, her roguish form blending into the middle class of the city whilst Tristan's armored appearance contrasted drastically. "Remember the story?"

"Yup," Tristan replied with confidence. "Disgraced Demonkin knight who was cast out of service from a Mortal Realm ruler and is trying to find a new master to serve."

Eloise nodded and smiled slightly, her very-minutely sharpened white teeth glistening in the sunlight. "We will get a room at an inn. Something that won't draw too much attention. Then, you'll lay low while I gather some information from my sources."

Right, Tristan thought as he kept following her deeper into the slowly tightening and less-maintained parts of the capital. Detritus and debris slowly showed their presence, as the brickwork became ever-so-slightly marred and shoddier. The buildings were shorter as well, with two stories being the highest, as they walked for what felt like miles on the orderly, straight streets as the squalor slowly increased the farther they traveled from their arrival point.

He was familiar enough with the layout of the Demon Realm because of the pristine maps he had looked through and added to his Omnitome from The Archives in the Citadel of Essence back in the Mortal Realm. The capital was in the center of the Realm, and many of the Demon Houses had a townhouse or estate residence within the capital's outer walls. Just how the kingdom of Bhant set up their nobility structure. Outside of the capital, those same Demon Houses had their own cities, towns, and villages; those were the bases of operation for the houses of nobility.

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But those other settlements were across the wastes. Beyond the capital's walls and a small farming region that was heavily patrolled by the Demon King's forces was a barren, rocky wasteland. Outside of the domain of the various Demon Lords and their noble houses, it was a dangerous locale which harbored nothing but demonic versions of the varying species that could be found across the Mortal Realm. According to the records Tristan had studied in The Archives, even species from other realms had been transplanted and let loose in the domain to be warped by the ambient essence. Outside of the walled and patrolled areas, the Demon Realm was a dangerous place. Intentionally made that way to wrangle the Demonkin serf class into their secure, walled cities.

The buildings continued to press in around the trio until there was barely enough room for Tristan and Eloise to walk side-by-side. She took the lead, and Tristan followed a step behind her as they kept to the right, Demonkin and half-breeds giving Tristan curious glances as they passed by going the other direction. Eloise finally turned down an alley, and Tristan spoke. "I thought it had been some time since you had been here."

"I worked at the Citadel for four-hundred years," she replied curtly, glancing back at him briefly as her red eyes bored into his. "I spent a short stint of time here. My friend at the Citadel who did quite a bit of legwork for us assured me that the inn we are going to be staying at and using as a base of operations is very discrete." She turned down another alley that tightened even further, forcing Tristan to shuffle sideways while Eloise in her slimmer, leather armor was able to walk straight-on.

A small, red sign with a painted, white bed hung on a metal rod above a door. Eloise opened the door with one fluid motion, the hinges creaking ever-so-slightly. Tristan followed her in to find a warm, cozy atmosphere. A long, wooden bar with a wall full of alcohol with several stools occupied by Demonkin and half-breeds deep into their cups dominated the space. Opposite the bar was a wall filled with framed portraits done in oil painting of Demonkin who looked like they were up-to-no good; all wearing billowing cloaks and flashy capes, bedecked in jewels. A barkeep – another Demonkin with deep, purple skin and glowing, green eyes gave them a little wave as they entered. Her voice was chipper as she welcomed them, "Hey there! In for a drink, room, or both?"

Eloise walked up to the bar and set a small bag on the counter – filled with gold coins from Tristan's Fey Realm market sales. "Room to start, drinks later. The room in the basement."

The Demonkin barmaid nodded and grabbed the bag, opened it, and then closed it rapidly before tucking it into her pocket. She leaned on the bar, giving Tristan a slight wink as she addressed Eloise. "Can do, sugar." She nodded toward the far end of the bar, where a narrow, cramped set of stairs went up. But next to it was a trapdoor that presumably led down. The barkeep grabbed a set of keys from under the bar and handed them to Eloise, "Both work on the basement trapdoor, and the other entrance."

Eloise glanced to Tristan, tossed him his key which he snatched out of the air with preternatural reflexes that seemed to catch the barkeep off-guard, and then led the way along the cramped hallway to the trapdoor. "What's this place called?" Tristan asked the barkeep as they passed.

"The Rogue's Gallery," she replied with a shy smile. She pointed to the paintings opposite the bar, "All of those paintings? Prominent gentlemen thieves who built their wealth by robbing the noble Demon houses."

Felicity let out a slight giggle of delight as she renewed her paw-claw biscuit making on Tristan's scalp. She spoke in Elvish. "They popularize thieves here? I think I may have to shapeshift into a Demonkin and go make a name for myself!"

Tristan followed Eloise down the trapdoor, descending the small ladder before shutting it behind them. The entire basement was quiet – almost too quiet. Unnaturally so. Tristan tapped Eloise's shoulder as she prepared to stick the key in her grip into another door, "Why is it so quiet down here?" he asked.

"There's a reason this place is discrete," Eloise replied as she opened the door and entered. Tristan almost audibly gasped at the opulence he saw beyond the doorway. A sumptuous, long room that easily extended past the bar and into the basement space across the street. Two large beds stood along the far side, with a series of chests which had keys inserted into the locks, awaiting goods for storage. An empty fireplace was along the left wall, and opposite it along the right was a long couch. The floor was covered in colorful rugs. Eloise spoke once more, this time in the Standard Tongue, "This is our base of operations. I gave the barkeep enough money for a whole Season, and we can always pay for longer."

Felicity let out a sigh of relief, "Finally, I can actually understand what you're saying!"

Tristan reached a hand up and scratched Felicity's head between the horns, "I presume it is soundproofed?"

Eloise nodded as she walked over to the fireplace and stared at the remnants of ashes on the stone. "It is. We can talk freely down here. From all except divination; but no one is searching for us here." She looked over at the beds, "You two can stay here or go upstairs for a drink if you want. I'm off to go and gather some information."

Felicity frowned, "I want to go out and cause some mischief! I can make a name for myself as the best Demonkin thief to ever live!" She flapped off of Tristan's head and her body rippled as her body warped and distorted to that of her Elfanoid form. Then, she shifted once more, her skin deepening to a charcoal grey and her eyes turning to a deep emerald green. "Now I just need clothes to match," she muttered.

Eloise chuckled, "Very well. I don't see the harm in causing some mischief." She looked to Tristan, "You should stay in here or in the bar above and keep a low profile. I'll be back before nightfall." She headed to the door and opened it, swiftly exiting.

Tristan turned to Felicity who was rummaging in her extradimensional storage space that she had opened right next to her. She was grumbling to herself as she pulled out clothes and wriggled into them. "Hey," Tristan said, snapping her attention to him. He put a hand under her chin, cupping it and holding her gaze. "Stay safe out there. I don't mind you getting up to some mischief, but don't risk anything. Got it?"

Felicity nodded and grabbed his hand, "I've never been caught. You worry too much…but I will run away if things look sketchy." She pulled away and slipped into some pants, before grabbing a set of boots from the storage space and finishing her dress-out. "There we go! I'm off to go and rob some nobles! Maybe I can find some missives or something on paper as well."

Tristan went to the chair and sat down, "Just be safe." Felicity waved and left the room, shutting the door behind her as Tristan sank into the chair with a sigh. Now, he thought, nothing for me to do but wait until Elosie comes back with the information I need.