B2 – Chapter 2: Practice makes perfect

Tristan pulled the horses up to a small creek that ran alongside the road. After leaving the kingdom’s heartlands, the road changed from cobblestone to packed dirt, and here as they began towards the small range of low-lying mountains seemed like the best place to take a quick breather.

Onyx and Midnight were both fed clearcool elixirs while in the Fey Realm, but Tristan also wanted the excuse to try some spells. After the horses were at the creek’s edge, munching on some of the soft grass next to the running water, he faced back toward the kingdom to the north. “First up, let’s try the Aspect of the dragon – claws spell.”

Felicity flew off of his head and shifted into her elfanoid form – a spitting image of a female elf, just a little shorter than Tristan, but still with traces of her scales and feathers covering her body. That, and the antlers atop her head, and the wings on her back all marked her as definitely not a usual person. “Alright, let’s see this dragon claw thing,” she said as she crossed her arms.

First, Tristan thought, I need to have Scales of our Foe active, since the notes advised to have both active. He spun his essence crucible and directed the cool flow into the armor. It grew to fully encompass his form just like plate mail would, but it was much lighter and more maneuverable.

Tristan held both of his hands, palm-up, and arced the fingers into claws that pointed in to his palms. Spinning his essence crucible once more, he felt the soothing, cool energy tempered by a subtle heat, and pushed the essence down his channels into his hands. Speaking slowly, and clearly, he uttered the spell phrase. “The very weapons you used to rend and tear are mine to use.”

His hands tingled as if they had fallen asleep from sleeping on his arm too much, and he grit his teeth against the discomfort. The essence flared up from his fingertips, cascading out in small geysers of ice laced with crimson, gold, and black sparks. The same ‘asleep limb’ buzzing shot up his arm to stop just before his elbow, and he winced.

But then, a shift occurred. First, he felt warmth that began in the fingertips and worked its way up to his forearms, replacing the asleep tingling. Next, a rush of energy that then led to a pressure-filled sensation; as if someone was gripping his arm and slowly squeezing in a comforting, massage-like method.

His arms, from the forearm down, shifted. The armor grew cracks and fissures that then rustled and moved about until it formed a dragon-scale pattern; the glowing, icy-blue lines between the white armored scales pulsating with his heartbeat’s rhythm. This continued all the way to the wrist, where the pressure built more, and the joint seemed to feel more flexible. Testing this, he maneuvered it around and found to his shock that it was like a ball-joint; able to move in any direction and only limited by the flesh and armor-turned-scales.

Lastly, his hands morphed. The palm stayed the same size, but his fingers elongated and grew to a wickedly-sharp point. From the tips of each finger, a small, icy-blue claw that pulsated just as the lines in the armor did, formed. The pressure and sensations of temperature faded as he let his crucible stop spinning.

Felicity whistled, “Wow! That is really impressive.”

Tristan smiled and walked over to a small rock near the road. He placed the claw-tips against the rock and pushed. With a little bit of pressure, they began to dig in and go down until he was full-finger depth into it. “That is amazing!” he said with glee as he felt joy from using a new spell. “I wonder-” he pulled his hand out and instead of digging into the surface, he slashed across it. The claws sliced cleanly through the rock, leaving a carve-mark from his new offensive tool.

Pulling his hands back, he looked over at Felicity and grinned, “This is so cool! I don’t even need a knife!”

Felicity walked over to him and held up her hands. The hands shifted into draconic claws that were all the colors of the rainbow – but they were not nearly as sharp or deadly-looking as Tristan’s. She went over to the boulder and attempted both of his feats. Her claws barely made a tiny hole in the rock’s surface, and her slash barely scratched the surface. “Okay, now that is not fair!”

Tristan chuckled, “It’s because I’m a dragonslayer, and you are not.” To emphasize the point, he brought the tips of his claw-tips to a point so that his palm would not stop his thrust, and stabbed down into the rock – punching a hole all the way through and to the dirt below. Pulling back, he frowned as the spell faded and all of the effects reverted within an instant. “Well, at least I can increase the length with essence.” He stopped spinning his crucible and feeding his armor essence, and the protective encasement reverted.

Felicity pumped her fist, “Score! I still have that over you. Shifting shape costs me nothing!”

Tristan looked at her and smiled, “Yes, you are better than me at some things. Now…another spell to try. This Breath Weapon – minor.” He walked to the creek and hopped over it; wanting to get a little bit away from the horses. Glancing back, he spoke to them – knowing that due to his Elvish heritage, they could understand him perfectly. “I’m going to do some elementalism effects. Don’t bolt and run on me.”

Both horses dipped their heads in a nod before resuming their light grazing.

Tristan held his right hand up to his mouth, and put his thumb and index finger together to make a circle; placing the ring just up to his lips. He curled the other fingers into line with the index finger. “This one needs me to focus on the elementalism spell type I want to use. So, to start, let’s try ice elementalism. Ahem.” He spun his essence crucible and pushed the essence into his body. Almost against his will, the spell gesture seemingly directed the flow to his throat, and he spoke the spell phrase. “The power I took from you is now mine to wield!”

He felt a torrential rush of essence from his throat, into his mouth, and he instinctively opened his lips as wide as he could. A tiny, silver beam of energy lanced out from the small ring of his fingers, and as soon as it had cleared a few inches ahead of him, it exploded in an enormous, thirty-foot-wide cone that reached up just as high. A flurry of explosive, icy shards ripped across the light shrubbery, embedded or shattered against the scattered rocks, and went shooting off into the distance before fading into nothingness.

He felt tired and took a knee as he sucked in breaths. Felicity hopped over the creek and joined him, patting him on the head. “Good job! Does Tristan want a treat to celebrate? Huh? Who is a good boy?”

Tristan waved her away, “No…I have…two more…to test.” Standing up again, he repeated the process. Both for fire and smoke elementalism. The fire elementalism is just what he expected; an enormous gout of flame that blasted out – he could feel the heat as a gentle, summer breeze – but Felicity had to take cover behind him from the temperature increase. A few small shrubs were set alight, and Tristan hurriedly ran over to put those out.

Last, he tried smoke elementalism, and it acted far differently. It did not come out in an explosive blast; instead it almost oozed forward, taking about three seconds to cover the whole distance. And instead of dissipating, it lingered for about ten seconds before fading. Even stranger, is that he could see through it like a thin haze of fog. “Felicity, could you see through the smoke?”

“Nope! It was all black and I couldn’t see anything past it,” she replied.

Interesting, Tristan thought. I could use that to shroud myself from attackers or archers. Or even to create a literal smokescreen to hide in. The smoke faded and vanished entirely, and Tristan was thoroughly exhausted. He walked back to Onyx and Midnight, “You two ready to ride?”

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The two horses jostled each other slightly with their massive forelegs, using a small series of neighs before Onyx seemingly rolled his eyes. Midnight bowed down slightly by extending a foreleg and dipping her head, and Tristan mounted up.

The next few hours of travel as the day drew onward and night began to descend, Tristan did not spin his crucible as he had been doing. Instead, he practiced each spell in order; including Dragon’s Doom and Scales of Our Foe – despite not needing to use those two manually. But his grandfather’s words echoed in his mind.

“Always remember,” Hurvun had told him, “That you should master the basics before moving on to anything more advanced.”

Tristan knew he had the essence capacity now for Second Order spells and was on his way towards Third Order. I should double check the primers once I’m back in the Fey Realm. I finished of the First Order spells in those for illusion, flora, imbuement, artifice, enchantment, and ice elementalism. I’m working on grandfather’s First Order for dragonbane. The Matriarch is working on her own custom spell books for the stuff she can do – illusion and enchantment, which might have more First Order spells. So, my next step should be continuing to train in grandfather’s custom-made spells, and then whatever The Matriarch has come up with for illusion and enchantment. He sighed, I would like to find a primer for fortune, fire elementalism, and smoke elementalism; but I won’t find those until I reach a large town in all likelihood.

As night drew onward and the five moons, called the Fingers of Night, began to rise up into the sky, Tristan channeled essence into his ring. Moving Onyx and Midnight off of the narrow road so they were in a small groove along the mountain wall just to the side, he finished using the ring and transported them all to the Fey Realm.

They appeared in front of the Queen’s Wood, and Felicity flew off to chat with her friends. Tristan entrusted his two horses to the fairy dragons that had stepped up to become stable hands, and they were guided to his practice grounds where there was plenty of sweet grass to munch on. The sound of instruments permeated the air, and Tristan heard the chatter of folks speaking in both Standard Tongue and Giant’s Speech, alternating between the two interchangeably.

Tristan went into the center of the Queen’s Wood and walked up the spire in the hollowed-out center. Fairy dragons buzzed all around, asking him if he needed anything, and he politely declined, save for asking them to fetch The Matriarch. Arriving at the summit called the top boughs, he went to the platform they had set aside for the Astrologer’s Glass and his small ‘study’. A series of cushions next to a small bookshelf. Sitting down, he slotted his grandfather’s notebook into one of the slots.

Skimming each of the primers, he confirmed that he had, indeed, covered all of the First Order spells contained within and had them committed to memory. Grabbing his grandfather’s book once more, he went over to the imbuing table and used some non-imbued ink to jot down his grandfather’s First Order spells. He did not want to risk any damage to the notebook in the Mortal Realm. As he finished doing that and set the notebook back on the bookshelf, The Matriarch arrived.

As she shifted into her elfanoid form she walked over to him, “Lord Tristan, what can I do for you?”

“What is your progress on putting together First Order spells for illusion and enchantment?”