Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

"I had an idea," Felicity said as they began to set up camp in a corner of a caravanserai along the main road.

Tristan finished hammering in the first stake and looked back at her. "About?"

She sat back on her hind haunches and brought a paw-claw up to her chin, as if some great thinker pondering questions about existence. "What if the place the Feather Scourge came from, what if they had some prominent bloodlines ruined, and just did not have our amazing information gathering? They just determined that the assassins came from the Demon Realm, and chose to try and infect the whole place?"

"Could be," Tristan replied as he extended the first flap of the tent and tied it to the stake, before moving to the next. "Using a place with access to other Realms as the testing ground makes some sense, but is also really risky. It could infect other Realms, or even kill off everyone who could open the portals."

"Just a thought," Felicity said as she opened her storage dimension and grabbed Tristan's camp supplies, including a small, Adamant Wood stove which she ignited using some tinder and charcoal. "What do you want to eat? I think we deserve a hot meal after our work."

"Cooked up starberries sound good to me," Tristan replied as he continued to set up the tent.

Sleep came easily to Tristan, but his dreams were plagued with visions of the maimed and injured populace of Demonkin that he had cleansed. He woke up in a panicked sweat, clutching at the sword laying on the ground next to him, his heart racing, as the vivid memory of a bone extending from a pustule-covered stumped was dredged back up.

Felicity was outside, on watch, and Tristan could see her small silhouette sitting in front of the tent flap. He took some deep breaths to calm his fast-beating heart, and laid back down, shutting his eyes. But the visions of the talons and feathers still stuck with him, and sleep eluded him. Sighing, he sat up and opened the flap.

Felicity looked back at him with droopy eyes, "What's wrong?" she asked, suppressing a yawn.

Tristan got out of the tent and stood, stretching and taking in the dark, deep blue night skies which had no stars. Only the fingers of night shone overhead, bathing the space in a slight, grey hue. "Nightmares," he said softly. "The plagued people…I can't get the images out of my head."

Felicity nodded, "Well…if you're going to be awake, I'm going to bed." She trotted into the tent and closed the flap.

Tristan sat down, sword across his legs, and stared up at the moons high overhead. He could not shake the feeling that there was something more to this disease he had uncovered and helped to stop. Some secret intent behind it. The clues he helped to gather and put together only pointed to another Realm's influence, but he had no clue why that Realm did what they did. Perhaps Felicity is right, he thought. Someone in the Undying Realm could be upset at the death of a bloodline they had a stake in. And, instead of investigating like I am doing, they instead chose to damn the whole Realm by sending a plague through. For all I know, the capital has already been infected. No saying how long the experiments in Lockwood were going on. Travelers could have absolutely infected other parts of the Realm.

He set his sword to his side and curled his knees up to his chest, That would be bad, he continued in his thoughts. An entire Realm, infected by a plague that is almost undetectable until symptoms appear. It's…evil. If that was the intent, and the more I think on it, I do think that's what is going on. Someone making a move against the whole of the Demon Realm. Closing his eyes, he pictured the map of the Demon Realm he had seen, and judged where they had traveled thus far. I could use Otherrealm Retreat and get back to the Citadel of Essence with Felicity. Talk to some of the faculty and tell them about my suspicion. They could probably send students who can use Cleanse and help to cure the plague if it should become an issue. The downside, of course, is that doing so would set back my plans. And my goal is revenge. A destabilized Realm helps my plans.

He sighed, The question is, do I care about the citizens of this Realm being injured? Sure, they can be Cleansed even in the later stages of the disease, but deformed and I doubt Regeneration could be used on all of them. He weighed his two options. Either return to the Citadel and tell them about the spreading plague – which could save thousands if not hundreds of thousands by putting together an inter-Realm response plan. Or, continue on his journey, and let the disease take hold.

I'm making a lot of assumptions, Tristan thought as he nudged some dirt with his foot and made a little pile in front of him. This all assumes that the disease spread beyond Lockwood. Which it probably did, since disease cat creatures were what I had already dealt with…Where's grandfather when I need to talk to him? I could use his advice here.

Tristan sighed, If I did retreat to the Citadel, I could pop over to the Fey Realm and ask grandfather for advice. I could ask the Headmaster as well. Get multiple perspectives on the issue. Then, coming back to the capital through the inter-Realm market, I'd just be adding a few days to my travel, compared to continuing where I am now.

The more he thought on it, the more he made up his mind. "Felicity," he said as he stood up and began taking down the tent.

"Fwah?" she asked as she yawned from inside the tent.

"Pack up. We're going to head to the Citadel." He spent the next few minutes of packing up the camp supplies explaining his thoughts on the Feather Scourge, and Felicity assisted him while listening intently.

She spoke when he finished and was tying the last rope in place around the canvas for the tent. "I think it's the right thing to do. Maybe not the best for our personal goals, but you're showing that good heart again."

Tristan smiled and held up the tent as she opened her storage dimension, and he tossed the object in. "Okay, hop on my head. We're going back."

She flew over and landed on his head. Tristan spun his crucible and pushed the essence into one of the two amethyst amulets on his belt, activating Otherrealm Retreat. The world compressed around them, turning black as energy danced along the outside of their bodies, and Tristan could feel a deep, tickling sensation.

They both appeared a moment later in the infirmary in the Citadel's grounds. Immediately, Tristan used another amulet with Mark the Breach stored within, resetting the return point for the paired spell that had just brought them there.

A Citadel Student, Human and female, dressed in a white cloak, turned to face them in the main waiting room. "Oh! Sorry, didn't hear you come up behind me."

Tristan spoke, "I learned of a plague. I need to tell someone with some diplomatic weight. Can you direct me to someone like that?"

The woman nodded, "I suppose the head professor of the rejuvenation spell classes…begging your pardon, but you don't have a Citadel Pin, do you? I don't see it on you."

Tristan shook his head, "Felicity, let Alter Form fade." Felicity tapped his head, and the woman in white gasped as Tristan's appearance reverted to his usual Winterbloom self. "I should have had my pin left here by a rift warden. I'm Tristan Winterbloom."

The woman gulped and nodded, looking quite frazzled. "I'll- I'll check the back." She stepped over to a wooden door, opened it, and departed. Tristan took a seat on the chair in the clean, almost-bare room. Felicity kept making her paw-claw biscuits, and her tail swished just behind Tristan's head, flicking his ears slightly. The woman came back a moment later, looking relieved. "I did see a note back there and your pins are here." She held it out to him.

Tristan grabbed it and dipped his head in thanks, "Excellent. Thank you." He handed Felicity hers, "We'll see the Headmaster immediately. See you there," he said to Felicity as he spun his crucible and poured the power into the pin. The world warped around him and he was standing in the hallway before the Headmaster's office. Reaching out, he grabbed the iron knocker and banged it several times.

Felicity popped into existence next to him, and then hopped back up to his head. "We inform him, then go home, take a nice long nap, and return to the Demon Realm?"

"That's the plan," Tristan replied as he took a step back from the door to show polite distance. It opened after a few minutes, and a young, Angelblood half-breed answered the door. "Hi there, tell the Headmaster that Tristan Winterbloom is here to see him."

The young man shut the door gently, and then a few seconds later, opened it again. "He will see you now."

Tristan walked into the front part of the office, past the assistant desks, and into the larger, main office, where Headmaster Markus Vrilz sat behind his desk. The middle-aged human waved his hand. "Lord Tristan! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I have one heck of a story to tell," Tristan replied. He went into detail about the Feather Scourge, his theories – to which Felicity interrupted a few times and added her own opinions. Tristan ended with, "…And I need your advice on how best to go about this."

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The whole time, the Headmaster had a stern look on his face. When Tristan finished, the man frowned. "Well…that's not good. A plague that is as insidious as you describe needs to be resolved. I will reach out through diplomatic channels to the Demon Realm and lie just a little bit – something about one of our students versed in medicine noting a weird disease. That should broach the topic from an innocuous angle."

Felicity made shallow paw-claw biscuits on Tristan's skull. "It might be good to close off access to the Demon Realm for a bit. Keep people from coming and going."

"I am in agreement," the Headmaster replied. "Once you return to that place, I will have the rift warden notify me. Can't very well have you sealed out." He tented his hands, "And Eloise?"

"She's traveling to a Demon House called the Parslile."

"Ah…" The Headmaster's visage noticeably soured, "She…may have some ulterior motives then. Her home village was in their territory, if memory serves. I'll double check her personnel file, but she might have another motive."

Tristan nodded, "Well, if that's all-"

"The first Fey Realm market visit and field trip opportunity was a resounding success," Markus said with a smile. "Having it as a one-week-per-Season event makes it into a near party-like atmosphere – I quite enjoyed myself."

"Good!" Felicity said with pride. "We put a lot of work into it!"

Tristan smirked, knowing that Felicity did not put much work into the actual event itself, too busy as she was learning and practicing transmutation spells. "Thanks for the compliments. I'll pass them along. If you'll excuse me, I must visit my home."

"Make sure you give the rift warden your pins. They'll be waiting in the infirmary on your return."

Tristan left the Headmaster's office and in the hallway glanced at Felicity, "An hour to get back – want to nap back in our room?"

Felicity nodded and vanished as she used her citadel pin. Tristan spun his crucible and warped right after her, arriving at their quarters door. Felicity was just opening it, and flew into the restroom immediately, pulling up a bath.

After an hour of getting clean, sleeping for Felicity and gear maintenance for Tristan, the two traveled back to the Fey Realm. Tristan immediately felt relaxed and at ease. But something tickled the back of his head. He reached up with his hand and touched that spoke at the nape of the neck, but felt nothing there. Hmm…I don't have any fortune spells active. He looked around for any sign of distress, but all seemed well. The central area around the Queen's Wood looked as it always did.

Felicity flew off, "I'm going to find mom and tell her about the plague thing!" she vanished into the treetops, quickly chased by a few of her siblings barking questions after her.

The Realm is immune to diseases, Tristan thought, thanks to the Plague Realm's Grafting in the past. I don't think anyone needs to know and incite a possible panic. But, letting the Fey Court know won't hurt. Tristan both-direction spun his crucible, sucking up the essence of the Realm and feeling refreshed immediately.

And Zeltana's voice broke in a split-second later. Finally you opened up! She said in his mind, exasperated.

Oh…was that you with the tickling on my neck? Tristan thought back as he headed into the Queen's Wood and down to his chambers.

Yes. Get to your inner world. I want to talk face to face.

Tristan got down to his chambers and after putting his armor and other gear aside, sat on the bed and closed his eyes. He took the deep, calming breaths and continued to spin his crucible in time with his inhalation and exhalation – speeding up and slowing down, respectively. In his mind's eye, he could see the glowing, silver core in his chest of his essence crucible. The solid lines of icy-blue, crimson and gold, deeper blue, bright yellow, and deep black were all seemingly wrapped around the exterior, pulsating with a brief, white light where they crossed over one another. He felt the familiar sucking feeling against his chest, and surrendered to it.

He was in his inner world. The flat, icy expanse was much larger than the last time he had been there doing intensive training, the tree at the center was a lot larger, and Zeltana's furniture set up at the base of it was more intricate than before; chairs, a table, a couch, and a bookshelf filled with tomes. She was reading one when he walked over, and put her thumb in between the pages as she looked up to him. "You've been busy."

"I've been doing a lot of essence-weaving," Tristan replied as he sat down on the chair opposite her.

She set the book down and frowned, "Let's review your actions thus far in the Demon Realm in search of revenge. A debrief, of sorts." She raised a finger, "First, you let those who attacked you outside of the capital city live. You would have been better served killing all but one, and cultivating a persona of ruthless efficiency and dread, that would serve you better in the future as an intimidating figure. Second, your work to get the Dalphatroux House on your side was some marvelous bit of deception. I highly approve of that. Third, you should have allowed the disease to spread. These are your enemies, responsible for the genocide of my bloodline." The last she said with a ruthless, cold expression that was filled with a rage that Tristan found intimidating.

But, he had a firm resolve. "To your first point, I am not going to kill people just because I can. The point was made, and my conscious is clear about how I treated the situation. Thank you for the compliments in regard to my bit of misdirection…but I disagree entirely on the disease aspect. The Realm isn't responsi-"

Zeltana slammed the table and stood up, shouting at him, and raw emotion and hurt came through the tone. "They murdered your blood! Your kin! My heirs! The whole Realm deserves to freeze and wither away for what they did!" She was heaving deep breaths, seething, as she stared at Tristan with those deep, piercing eyes.

Tristan crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, "Demons aren't responsible. Demonkin aren't responsible. The species native to that Realm are not responsible. No, the responsible entity is the ruler of that place…" He trailed off intentionally to wait for a reaction, but not hearing anything, continued. "I am not you, Zeltana. I am not a warmonger who is willing to slaughter a whole Realm to add onto my own. That's not who I am…it's not who my mother raised me to be. That's why I opened up my Realm to outsiders in the first place – out of altruism." He stood up and placed his hands on the table, staring into Zeltana's gaze of wrath. "I am going to do what I feel is right. The Realm is not yours anymore, it is mine. I am its lord and ruler. And I am not you."

Zeltana's expression slightly softened. Anger was still there, but so, too, was a look of guilt or remorse. She replied in terse, short words. "Very well. You state your position. I disagree. But you won't change."

Tristan smiled softly, "You've seen my mind, Zeltana. You've read through every thought I've ever had. You probably know me better than Felicity or my grandfather. If my decisions end up being the wrong ones, and I die, well, you'll know you were right."

Zeltana's expression cracked at that and shifted to one of concern and worry. "No, you won't die. You've been trained by me." She sighed and frowned, "Not using the plague to your advantage will slow your efforts down."

"I had planned on taking a while with this," Tristan replied, feeling relief that his mentor was not as upset at him. "It was always going to be a difficult task. But, once I have as many Demon Houses as possible on my side, then it's just a matter of coordinating their uprising to happen all at once, wait until the Demon King's forces leave the capital to deal with the rebellion…and then we strike."

That brought a smile to Zeltana's lips, "Krik and his kin have been preparing. I believe your strike force is going to be doing marvelous work."

Tristan nodded, "Good. Thanks for keeping an eye out while I'm gone. I think I'm going to make a change to the Fey Realm."

She frowned, "I know what you're thinking. And the answer is no. You're the ruler. If you make some stupid water-mirror that I can interact through, eventually you'll get a splinter faction that wants me back and will try to bring that about, which is impossible. But they would try, and it would fracture the Realm." She shook her head, "Don't do it."

"Very well," Tristan replied. "I just wanted you to not be so alone in here."

"I have the whole Realm to explore in this ephemeral, consciousness form. I'm fine."

Tristan walked over to the tree and put his hands on his hips as he stared up at the deep, brown bark. "It's grown quite a bit."

"Check your essence capacity."

He walked up and put his hand on the center of the spiral, "Okay tree, show me where I'm at." The spiral filled up until the three-fourths of the fourth ring was full. Fourth Order, Tristan thought, but almost at Fifth Order. I'll probably reach it in a few weeks. But this growth was fast. It must be due to the healing session in Lockwood. He pulled his hand away and turned to Zeltana, who was grinning from ear to ear. "What?" he asked her.

"You're progressing well."

Tristan grinned, beaming at her praise. "Thanks. I have to talk to Thallia."

"Talk to you soon."

Tristan left his inner world and his eyes snapped open. Getting up, he opened his chamber door and saw one of the fairy dragons sitting next to the door. "Can you get Thallia?" he asked.

"Yup! Happy to do it!" The fairy dragon flew off, and Tristan left the door open as he returned to the bed and sat down. A few minutes passed and Thallia arrived, dripping water from her hair as she wrung it out. "Come on over and join me," he said as he patted the mattress.

Thallia gracefully walked over and sat down, "Inviting me to bed? I thought you weren't about that?" she said with a grin.

Tristan rolled his eyes dramatically, "No. I wanted to let you know that we can begin to make diplomatic maneuvers with Debera Dalphatroux in the Demon Realm…" he spent the next several minutes filling her in on all of the conversations, the ruse, and finished with, "…I think that we should broach some diplomatic connections, but keep them at a distance."

Thallia had kept silent and was nodding along as he spoke, with a deep, contemplative look. Then, she replied, "I believe we should hold off on diplomacy for a while. I'll send a singular envoy with a letter, stating that after Lord Winterbloom has his revenge, that we will open up relations with the Dalphatroux Demon House." She chuckled, "Your ruse with Felicity was well-played. You should repeat that act with other Demon Lords. Tell me more about the intelligence you've gathered."

Tristan spent the next hour sharing every piece of information he had acquired or been given by Eloise. Thallia asked a few clarifying questions, and as the hour concluded, she spoke at length. "Well, I think that you should ignore the Mericlau up north – they seem like they will not be aligned with you at all due to their devotion to the Realm Protector. Likewise, the Nouvax would be an issue. But, you could use that agricultural sector as a weak point to apply pressure from. As the old saying goes, the average person is three meals away from a rebellion. It might hurt some of the common populace – but even just waylaying a few shipments of foodstuffs should pull away some resources. The rest of your plans seem good. Go to the Alphinaud, Tousles, and hope that Eloise can negotiate with the Parslile on your behalf." She put a hand on Tristan's back and rubbed it in a comforting, almost older-sister manner. "You're doing good work."

"Thanks," Tristan replied. Thallia stood up and bowed slightly before leaving, and Tristan laid down in bed. Not needing to sleep, but wanting the wonderful dreams of the Fey Realm to push aside the horrors he saw in those tunnels.