B2 – Chapter 41: Logic, emotion, credibility

Tristan’s mount thundered across the flowering plains. Three hours out of the town, he spun his essence crucible, pushed the energy into his ring, and traveled to the Fey Realm. He appeared in the dirt ring, and was greeted by a festive atmosphere as fairy dragons and the various residents were having some type of celebration.

Felicity cleared her throat, “Tristan Winterbloom is back! And he’s injured!”

This brought the festive atmosphere to a stop, and fairy dragons dispersed to go and seek out their fellows with rejuvenation spells. The partygoers came over and inquired about Tristan’s injuries and offered help.

He waved them off, “I’ll recover. Keep enjoying yourselves. I just need to rest.” Felicity shifted to her elfanoid form and helped him walk into the Queen’s Wood, down to his chambers, and guided him to the bed. Tristan hissed in pain as he laid back, feeling the pain of his rough ride while injured.

Felicity helped to strip him down, and the larger fairy dragon who had used rejuvenation before came in, cast his spell over Tristan, and he felt a soothing warmth suffuse his body. His muscles relaxed, loosened from their tension, and he was able to take in deep breaths without feeling agony. “My thanks,” he said, softly as he rubbed his temples.

The fairy dragon left, and Felicity sat on the side of the bed, gently brushing her hand along his arm. “You survived,” she said softly. “But you have to get better at not being a target for assassins.”

Tristan nodded, “Not like I have much of the choice in that matter. I figured being on the move would be enough. They were able to track me from Bhant, through the Sapphire Coast, and across the ocean. Maybe they have a diviner?”

“Maybe,” Felicity replied. “This is the first time someone was disguised trying to kill you. The other times they were dressed as assassins – which is really, really d-u-m-b when you think about it. They just advertised they were killers with the black cloaks, the symbol, and even the knives!”

Tristan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, “The dagger…did we keep it?”

She opened her storage dimension and pulled it out, “Yup! Got it right here. Scooped it up as we left.”

Tristan gestured to the desk as he sat up, “Let’s see what it does.” He walked over alongside Felicity. He prepared the parchment-like leaves, the ink pen, and Felicity placed the object in front of him. “Je cherche à savoir ce que fait cet objet. Remplissez mon esprit de compréhension et laissez l’effet se répandre en moi. Distiller la réponse à l’ustensile que je tiens dans ma main.” (I seek the knowledge of what this object does. Fill my mind with understanding, and let the effect flow through me. Distill the response to the utensil in my grip).

He spun his essence crucible as he spoke and poured the essence into his hands with a thinner stream going to his writing hand. After a few moments, he had completed the Discern Artifice spell and read the results aloud.

The Rose’s Thorn

Alter Weapon (First) [Alteration]

The weapon can change shape to form various tools and implements; reshaping its mass to accomplish a specific task.

“That explains why they have a similar appearance, but slightly different look,” Tristan stated. “Each assassin has their own preference of style for a stabbing tool.”

Felicity frowned and crossed her arms, “But that doesn’t help us with the issue at hand – they used a disguise to get to you. No more black cloaks. Why switch tactics if, presumably, that one was working?”

Tristan looked at the dagger and shook his head, “I don’t know. One more mystery to solve. The same goes for when they die – turning to ash and dust? That has to be some type of spell or artificed item at play.”

“Perhaps teleportation?” Felicity offered. “They are killed and then someone else gets notified via divination, and they summon the person to them?”

“Maybe? We should ask Obadai,” Tristan replied as he stripped down and jumped into the pool on the side of the room. Ducking his head under, he came up and leaned against the side of the chamber. “We get to Rigger’s Cove, get on the boat, and we’ll make for Klaktol’s southern coast.”

Felicity slipped into the water and floated on her back, “A decent enough plan. Get to another port, another continent – and then we’re heading back across the water to Schlarz?”

Tristan nodded and sank down until just his head was above the water, “Yes, that seems wise. We go back and forth to hopefully shake these assassins. But if they are using divination, we need a means to prevent them from tracking us.”

Felicity got out of the pool and shifted to her fairy dragon form, shaking herself dry. “Let me go ask The Matriarch! She knows divination!” Felicity went flying out, and Tristan sank down under the water again before getting out and drying off.

The Matriarch came in right as he was pulling on a shirt, Felicity flying right behind her. “You seek to block divination?”

“That’s right,” Tristan replied. “I need to keep assassins from tracking us.”

“That is difficult. I know that Obadai has told you information about The Thought Realm, and its protector Logos.”

“A bit.”

The Matriarch smiled softly, “Well, The Thought Realm only gathers knowledge that is well known, written, or can be easily discovered. I suppose…one way to go about it is to spread a rumor that Tristan Winterbloom, Tristan Anorox, is dead. But that might harm some of your ongoing activities.”

“I’m not going to hide who I am for the rest of my life,” Tristan replied. “There is no way to…pull the knowledge back from this Logos thing?”

The Matriarch shook her head, “No, I’m sorry. Once Logos takes hold of it, it can never be returned.”

“Then I suppose we just keep on the move.” Tristan stretched and suppressed a yawn, “I want to rest. Good night, Matriarch.”

She bowed and departed. Felicity shut the door behind her mother, switched to her elfanoid form, and pushed Tristan to the bed, tucking him in before snuggling under the covers next to him.

Tristan woke up to a muttering. He could hear Felicity talking gently in her sleep. They had shifted during the night, and he was curled up behind her.

“Nhg. Just say it,” she muttered, her ears twitching slightly.

He closed his eyes to try and go back to sleep, but he felt…off. Like something was wrong, somewhere, or he had forgotten something. But he couldn’t figure out what he was forgetting.

Well, since I’m up, may as well tire myself out in a productive manner. He slid out from behind her, headed to the door, and ventured down to the vault. Going through the first chamber and into the center one, he looked towards the door that had the least-complex spiraling pattern. Dropping to his knees and feeling the grooves that he slid into, he placed his hands on it. Let’s see if I’m strong enough to open this.

He spun his crucible, pouring the power into his arms as it filled up the spiral a little over two-thirds of the way. Right, so not quite there yet. But let’s see how this compares to my inner world tree tracker. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, sinking down into a meditative trance as he came to in his inner world.

Going to the tree, he placed his hand on it, and saw that the spiral filled to the same amount as the vault door had. As I thought. The next door of the vault requires the essence capacity for Third Order spells. I would bet that each door is locked with more and more essence-intensive locks.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Leaving his inner world, he stood up back in reality. He felt lethargic thanks to the loss of essence, and he ambled back to bed, slipped behind Felicity, and let his eyes shut once more.

Tristan woke up and found their positions had been shifted again – Felicity was behind him, and she was holding onto him tightly. Gently extricating himself from her grip, he headed outside. It was night, and the cool air of the Fey Realm on his skin was refreshing. Heading up the spire he stepped out into the top boughs. It was silent, and thanks to the lack of anything else in the Fey Realm aside from fairy dragons and the people he had offered a home to, it stayed like that. The only sound was the slight sigh of wind through the trees.

Why can’t I sleep? He thought as he headed over to the Astrologer’s Glass. I know I don’t have to sleep while I’m here, but I was expecting it. Something is getting in the way. He plopped down onto one of the cushioned seats and looked at the observation device, still pointed almost straight up. Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths and tried to relax. To let all the tension loose.

But a knot in his stomach wouldn’t let him be. He knew, he felt, that something was “off”. Standing up and looking around, Tristan still saw no movement. All was calm. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. Both-direction spinning his crucible, he whispered and his voice carried across the Fey Realm to his intended audience. “Matriarch, to me.”

There were a few moments of silence before he heard the loud sound of flapping, and glancing over the side of the tree, he saw the large fairy-dragon form of The Matriarch fly up before landing. She sat back on her haunches, much like Felicity had done, and she peered down at him. “Yes, Lord Tristan?”

“Do you feel like we are being watched?”

She nodded, “Yes. Ever since Obadai was here and used the Astrologer’s Glass.”

Tristan glanced over at the device, “Well…maybe what he was looking at has the answer.” He walked over to the device and peered into the view hole. He saw a swirl of blue energy, strands of it, traveling towards that enormous black dot.