Last Lord of the Fey (Progression Fantasy)

It took a few hours, but eventually Felicity had fixed up the mountain, and both she and Tristan had enough essence to use their Otherrealm Retreat stored spells. They both appeared almost simultaneously in the infirmary, and after quickly re-using Mark the Breach from another amulet to re-establish the teleportation point, they re-acquired their Citadel Pins from one of the staff members.

"Back to the room?" Tristan asked.

Felicity nodded and vanished with a pop. Tristan spun his crucible and pushed the essence into the pin, teleporting just outside the door leading to his quarters. Felicity was already in the process of opening it in her Elfanoid form, and he followed her in, shutting it behind him. She looked back at him, "I want to take a bath."

Tristan was about to reply when he heard a knock on the door and quickly opened it. Eloise was standing there, staff in hand. "Hey…" she said softly. "Thank you for rescuing me. Did you figure out what happened?"

Tristan smiled and gestured broadly into the room, "Come on in, I'll tell you everything that happened." He glanced at Felicity, "Go and do your thing, lovely."

Felicity grinned and gave him a little air-kiss before dipping into the restroom and shutting the door. Eloise walked past Tristan and sat at the end of the bed near the trunks for storage, setting her staff off to the side which stood upright on its own with nary a wobble. Tristan took a seat next to her. "Well?" she asked expectantly.

Tristan frowned, "Tell me why you got captured first." He pulled his gauntlets off, grabbed the ring, and Eloise handed back the amulet which he put back onto his belt.

Eloise sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers, closing her eyes as she made small circles to alleviate whatever headache he assumed she was dealing with. "I got to Avonal easily enough. I even was able to talk to the captain of the guard – that's when everything went to shit." She pulled her fingers away, put her hands behind her on the bed, and leaned back as she looked up at the ceiling. "He doubted my intentions immediately. Used a spell on me – I should've seen that coming. Forced me to talk and tell about my true purpose in trying to ally their House to take down Duberceix."

"And you told him what, exactly?"

"Nothing about you," she replied hastily, her eyes dashing over to meet his as she tilted her head to him. "The spell only forced me to speak of the intentions behind why I was there. He captured me-"

"Wait," Tristan interrupted. "You could have still used spells, right? Why not use one to flee?"

Eloise looked like she was barely holding back tears, and she bit her bottom lip slightly as she shook her head. "It…" She looked away and to the wall, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I cracked. Everything I learned, everything I studied – it went right out the window…I froze…" She looked back to him, wiping one of her tears that had escaped from its confinement from her cheek. "The spell didn't do that…just my lack of training. I've never done essence weaving in that type of situation. I panicked, and they got those shackles on me." She shook her head. "I didn't come out of the fugue until I was in the cell, and by then, no spell I had memorized would have helped me escape."

Tristan slowly nodded in understanding, having experienced something similar, but in a different situation. "Back when I was in Bhant," he said softly, "I had a nearly identical experience." Eloise perked up slightly as he continued. "It's rough when you're shown to be so out of your depth that you freeze," Tristan continued, as he vividly recalled the first time that his father had him face off against a living, breathing creature. A goblin he had paid for from a traveling circus. A beast, no smarter than a dog despite its stature and humanoid appearance. The first thing Tristan was told to kill, as goblins were steadfast servants of the Elemental Realm dragons. And he couldn't do it. He was frozen in fear. Tristan spoke at a whisper as he stared into Eloise's eyes. "Now that you've experienced that feeling, I hope you won't lose your edge next time." His voice hardened slightly as he finished. "I didn't, and you have centuries more experience than I do."

Eloise had kept her mouth shut but slowly nodded as he concluded. "I hope not."

Tristan lay back on the bed. "Well, here's what happened…" he went into detail about the events directly after he had saved her. She stopped him at several points during his story about fighting the Starsworn, and prodded with a few questions when it came to his conversation with Clova Parslile, the Demon Lord of that House. "…We should figure out our next move," Tristan finished.

Eloise stood up and grabbed her staff. "I agree…you did well, Tristan." She smiled as she looked back at him. "Really well. An alliance, plus some underhanded efforts to sabotage something you have already put into motion? It does make me curious…" she turned to face him fully, crossing her arms as she rest the staff in the crook of her elbow. "Why do you care so much about the Mortal Realm? Especially when you have the whole Fey Realm?"

Tristan pushed himself up onto his elbows. "I don't think that realms should invade each other. Or take each other over. We can all just get along, stay in our lane, keep to our own, but mingle amicably."

She smirked in response, and let out a laugh. It took a moment to quiet, then she spoke with a chipper tone. "You are already making inter-realm political plays. Like it or not, you are quickly becoming a player in this game."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"It's not intentional. If anything, my plans for the Mortal Realm regarding my warning to the empress…that's just me keeping a possible rival faction in check." He smiled. "I am just trying to live up to what my mother raised me to do. Be a good person…as best as I can be."

"Commendable." Eloise turned as Felicity left the bathroom and walked down the hall. "If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you two to your devices." She spoke to Felicity, "Shall we reconvene tomorrow? Or would you like a day or two?"

"A day or two," Felicity replied with a grin. "Could use a little rest, Tristan's gear needs repairs, and I need to learn more transmutation spells!" She hiked a thumb back and pointed it at her chest. "I have just cracked Fourth Order for my crucible!"

Tristan grinned. "Congratulations."

Eloise nodded in agreement. "Well, don't take too long-"

Felicity waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah yeah. Just going to talk to some professors, have them write down some spells for me, and then put those in the Omnitome."

Eloise walked past her and called out as she reached the door. "Two days!" She opened it, stepped through, and shut it behind her.

Felicity hopped onto the bed and pushed against Tristan's chest. "Come on! Get out of the armor and get into the tub! You stink!"

After a delightful soak and a quick hour to push essence into the ring, Tristan warped the two of them back to the Fey Realm. She shrank down and turned into her usual fairy dragon form, flying on top of his head. He immediately headed to the gnomes and gave them his armor and weapons. One of them who worked in the forges prominently let out a whistle. "What did you fight?" he asked in his gruff, impressed tone. "Not much I can think of can deal this type of punishment to items of our craftsmanship."

Tristan smiled ruefully. "A star given physical form."

The Gnome let out a barking laugh. "Right. Of course, Lord Tristan." He turned away and lowered his voice to an amused mutter. "Fighting stars. Really? Too much starberry wine if anything."

Tristan ignored the slight aside and elected to head out to find a few people to check in with. First, he thought, Rory and Bertram. He found them quickly enough. They had taken up residence on the edge of the Springthaw Meadows, in some of the houses formed from trees overlooking the vast plains. Bertram was swinging his sword in an intricate series of stances, while Rory looked on from the porch.

To Tristan's surprise she was very far along in the pregnancy despite the short time that had passed. Maybe its faster for Drakonid?

Felicity's mind must have been in the same place, as she shouted. "Hey! Why'd you balloon up so quickly?!" Not in an offensive way, but more playful jest.

Rory waved as Bertram grunted in acknowledgement of their presence. As Tristan walked up to the porch and leaned against the railing, Rory replied and elucidated upon the situation. "Drakonid have internal fertilization, like your species, but then we grow an egg." She patted her pronounced stomach and smiled. "I won't be like this for long. But the egg, our child, will take some time to fully develop. And, the further I am from it, the longer it will take."

Bertram slammed his sword tip-first into the ground and walked over, removing his gauntlets and tossing them onto the porch with a clatter of metal. He looked at Tristan and shrugged. "It's weird, but it means no cloth-changing for the kid. When he – sorry, when it, since we don't know boy or girl yet – when it hatches, it should be older."

"How old?" Felicity asked, making her paw-claw biscuits on Tristan's head.

Rory shrugged. "It depends on what the child wants. They can be in there until they are a toddler, or come out much earlier."

"Can they learn while inside?" Tristan asked.

Rory nodded. "From words, yes. I'll be staying here until the child hatches, and for a few Seasons after. Depending on how old it is upon hatching? We may leave it here in your realm's care while I fulfill my ancestral duties, or may stay. Hurvun has already agreed to help the child train, and a few fairy dragons have volunteered to shapeshift into a variety of different sized dragons for practice."

Bertram nodded and cracked a smile as he nudged Tristan's shoulder. "If it comes out a baby, we'll be playing mom and dad, and I expect uncle Tristan to help shoulder the load."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "No thanks. Not into kids and child-rearing. I'm sure the nymphs would love to help, though."

Bertram let out a barking laugh. "You'd think that, with them being girls. Turns out they hate children. With a passion. Thallia outright told us so."

"The gnomes and unicorns offered to help raise the child," Rory added. "They said something about the first time here that a child of three different Realms would be born."

"True," Felicity said with a little bit of excitement tinging her tone. "Human dragonslayer bloodline, Drakonid whatever-you-have bloodline, and infused with the Fey Realm's essence? Lots of interesting things could happen!"

Tristan frowned at that. "What if the essence of the Fey Realm acts like it did with me? Pushes in and forces the other Heritages out?"

Bertram smiled. "Already asked The Matriarch. She said that it would not be a problem. Our son – sorry, our child – is going to be half-breed. She did some divination spell about it. Half Human dragonslayer, half Drakonid wave-hunter, and our child will have a high rarity crucible thanks to the Fey Realm." He was grinning and walked up the porch, giving Rory a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to wash up, and then get dinner going." He stepped inside the small house.

Rory dipped her head. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

"As long as you need," Tristan replied. "If you'll excuse me, I have some other things to attend to." He left and headed right to the pool in front of the Queen's Wood, asking one of the nymphs to go get Thallia. The prime nymph rose from the water shortly after, and Tristan filled her in on the pacts and need to send a new group of envoys to the Parslile House. She nodded throughout, and when he finished, cleared her throat.

"Lord Tristan," she began. "We'll do as you ask-"

"Sounds like a "but" is coming," Felicity quipped.

Thallia shot a gaze at the fairy dragon before continuing. "As I was saying, we'll do as you ask us to do. But I am unsure about your plans when it comes to the empire in The Mortal Realm. Are you sure you want to sabotage what this Parslile noble house is trying to do?"

"I'm not fully committed to the idea, but I thought that it would be best if Humans or Demihumans had control over their Realm, instead of having it being a Demon's puppet."

Thallia grimaced. "I know you do not…" The grimace became a solid frown. "We should speak to the Fey Court as a whole. I think you need to hear multiple perspectives on this. Permission to summon them?"

"Granted," Tristan replied as he headed to the Queen's Wood, having a sneaking suspicion about she was wanting to propose.