B2 – Chapter 38: A bargain struck

The fort that Prince Roland was holed up in with his remaining troops was a few day’s travel. Tristan focused entirely on spinning his essence crucible in both directions, and sank into his inner world to try and improve upon his essence capacity. He encouraged Felicity to do the same, and Onyx kept them close to the main vanguard.

Evenings were spent in the Fey Realm. And this cycle of travel continued for a few days, and on the eight of Harvest Season, they arrived at a staging point outside of the massive fortress. It was a near-identical twin to the one they had left. “Why are they the same?” Tristan asked as he dismounted Onyx in the camp alongside the prince’s retinue.

Marineaux replied, “The late king created two fortresses in the center of each half of the continent. There is a larger, completely-centered citadel which is currently unoccupied, but will be once Prince Merrill is the only claimant to the throne.” She gestured to the large walls and turreted towers, “The two princes each claimed one of these as their base of operations.”

Tristan scratched his head, “Why not just use the largest middle capital as a staging ground?”

Marineaux’s voice lowered to a whisper as she leaned in, “It is an ancient curse upon the place. Only when a king sits on the throne of Maladonia, who is of the royal blood, will the capital city allow residents. We tried, but the troops vanished.” She shook her head and then turned away to see to her prince.

Tristan walked over to the edge of the campsite with Onyx, looking out at the enormous fortress walls. “Do curses exist?” he asked Felicity.

She nodded as she flew down from his head and landed on the small, grassy knoll. “Hexes are a type of spell. I suppose one could call a hex a curse as well. So…perhaps?” She swished her tail back and forth lazily, “Visiting the capital might be interesting. See if there really is a curse.”

Tristan shrugged, “I am not opposed to it. I am just…a bit scared, to be honest. Those assassins could be anywhere. They have some capable essence-weavers among them if they could find everyone of the Winterbloom bloodline. I don’t want to stay in one place too long and risk exposure.”

Felicity nodded, “Makes sense. Well, we deal with this hostile prince and then we’ll get that contract and be off. Let’s see assassins try to get us out in the open ocean!”

The day progressed onward, and Tristan was left to his own devices whilst the army staged. Around midday, the commander and Prince Merrill came over. Tristan stopped spinning his essence crucible and stood up. “Is it time?”

The commander nodded. “Your fairy dragon-”

“I’m right here,” Felicity said as she flew up from the ground to Tristan’s head.

“Erm…sorry. You are going to unlock all of the sally ports?”

She saluted with her paw-claw to her head. “Yes, sir! I can shapeshift into all types of things! I’ll unlock those things…but then what?”

Prince Merrill looked at Tristan, “You had mentioned you could also turn invisible, and my men saw you appear from nothing. Are you able to infiltrate? When the army approaches, their forces will go to the walls to defend…but you can possibly get past them, yes?”

Tristan nodded, “I could try. But it is risky. Why should I risk my neck like that?”

The prince’s eyebrow twitched, and Tristan knew he had hit a nerve with being insubordinate. But, Tristan did not care all that much at this point. Merrill spoke through a tense jaw, his words harsh but even. “I will get the contract signed before you go in.”

“Deal,” Tristan said. “Write it up; exclusive contract for my shipping fleet to deal in your mead to foreign lands.”

The prince turned around and waved for Tristan to follow, “Come along then. My seneschal will write up the papers.”

Tristan looked to Felicity, “Pysy turvassa, jooko?” (Stay safe, okay?).

She gave him a grin, shapeshifted into a sparrow, and then replied in a chipper, bright voice matching her new form. “Olen paras hiippailussa! Ei hätää.” (I’m the best at sneaking around! Don’t worry). She flew off towards the walled city in the distance.

Tristan turned to follow the prince, and spotted the commander staring at him with a curious expression. “What?” he asked.

The commander shrugged, “Never heard Elvish before. It’s a weird language.”

Tristan kept walking and arrived at the prince’s tent. Heading inside, he was waved over by the young man to a middle-aged man at a portable desk. The individual gestured to the parchment on the table, “Lord Tristan, there are a few terms to discuss.”

Tristan spun his essence crucible and activated his ear cuff’s stored Spoken Message: Half-Realm spell. “Admiral, you available?”

“Aye, I’m here,” Yokain replied.

“I’m going to read a document to you. Tell me when things need to be changed or altered.”

The prince and the seneschal both looked at Tristan quizzically, and he quickly added in their direction, “Just talking to the admiral of my trade fleet. Let me see the document.”

A few hours passed and Tristan had to keep spinning his essence crucible to reactivate the ear cuff. It left him low on essence, and he was winded by the end of it. But the admiral was pleased with the final product, and even the seneschal was impressed by the thoroughness of the document. Some of that time was spent copying the terms to two sets of parchment – one for the kingdom, one for Tristan.

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