B3 – Chapter 22: Springthaw Meadows – Unseal!

Tristan kept walking and as he entered the lush, green meadows – spotting Midnight and Onyx grazing in the distance, he kept frowning. It’s my Realm, he thought. It is my essence, and I know that each Elf takes up a certain amount of that essence. I need a way to visualize it to really see the impact.

He stopped and turned to the back entrance of the Queen’s Wood. Calling over some fairy dragons to fetch his gear, he went up to the top boughs, to the writing desk up there, and sat down with parchment and paper. Let’s try this. He began spinning his essence crucible in both directions, connecting to the Fey Realm. As he put pen to paper, he spoke, willing the world to his whims.

“Haluan nähdä valtakuntamme olemuksen kapasiteetin tällä edessäni olevalla paperilla.” (I desire to see the capacity of our Realm’s essence on this paper before me).

He felt the essence surging through him go down his arm and he let the power take hold of his limb, watching as the Realm that he was merged with responded by creating an easy to visualize version of the Fey Realm’s current essence. We are only consuming ten percent of the Realm’s ambient essence?

|___ | 100%

|___ | 95%

| ██ | 90%

| ██ | 85%

| ██ | 80%

| ██ | 75%

| ██ | 70%

| ██ | 65%

| ██ | 60%

| ██ | 55%

| ██ | 50%

| ██ | 45%

| ██ | 40%

| ██ | 35%

| ██ | 30%

| ██ | 25%

| ██ | 20%

| ██ | 15%

| ██ | 10%

| ██ | 5%

| ██ | 0%

Well, there’s a lot of essence left over, he thought. The greed, that anger over coveting the Realm’s power, began to fade as he realized how much there was available. “Matriarch! Top boughs!” he shouted.

She flew up a few moments later, still with a dour expression on her face. “Yes, Lord Tristan?”

He gestured to the paper, “I…I may have…” he cleared his throat. “I am sorry for snapping at you. Dragon essence crucibles seem to have a slight personality altering effect.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Slight?”

“Okay, maybe it is more major than I anticipated,” Tristan replied. “Regardless…Perhaps I was too harsh in my desire to keep other Elves out.” He tapped the paper, “How much essence of the Realm does a single Winterbloom take up?”

“Well, if you are going on this chart, about half of a percent.”

“And the other Elf types?”

“Less than a percent. Far less.”

Tristan leaned back, “Give me some number idea.”

She sighed, “I am not a fan of this level of rigor and numbers you wish to quantify items in such terms. A single Summerbalm Elf would be less than a tenth of a tenth of a percent…” She shut her eyes and rubbed her temples, “I’d say for one percent of the Fey Realm’s essence capacity, you would have a thousand Summerbalm, five thousand Springthaw, or ten thousand Fallthorn.”

Tristan did some quick numbers on the parchment, “I…I was far too concerned over this,” he stated. “We know non-Elves do not take up the essence of the Realm, yes?”

“Correct. Though if new births occur here which is entirely possible given your plans for new residents to be screened and allowed to stay…that may change.” She shook her head, “But nothing stronger than a Springthaw Elf.”

Tristan glanced back at the paper, “I do not know how many Elves are in the Mortal Realm. But it cannot be more than…what, a few hundred thousand at the most?”

“No more than a hundred thousand of pure-blooded Elves,” The Matriarch replied. “Half-breeds, however, there could be far, far more. And once they come here, they would experience the same as you did when you first arrived – your human heritage shoved aside in favor of the Elf heritage.”

Tristan returned to the paper and did some math, “Even if we took in, say, a million Elves and Half-breed Elves…that would be only at most twenty percent of the Realm’s essence.”

She nodded, “That may be correct. I do not work well with numbers of anything using strict orders of operation.”

“I was wrong, then,” Tristan stated as he stood up. “We have enough that I don’t need to be greedy – that is my fault, and I will endeavor to keep it in check. I ask your forgiveness.” He turned to her and bowed slightly at the waist, “My apologies.”

The Matriarch smiled ever-so-slightly. “I accept your apology, but it is your Realm. You do not need to apologize.”

“I’m not going to be like my forebear,” Tristan replied as he recalled what he had learned of Zeltana from his various conversations with Fey Realm residents. “I am going to be better than her.” He stood up straight, “Please tell Dorothy that I will allow Elves – but they must go through the same screening process.”

“Of course.” The Matriarch turned to the edge of the platform but paused and glanced back at him. “As you unseal portions of the Realm, more ambient essence will be available. You are worried over nothing, Lord Tristan. You would need to produce many, many children to even make a dent in the Realm’s essence capacity.”

“Wait,” Tristan said. The Matriarch looked back at him with curiosity. “I want to unseal the Springthaw Meadows. Can you send our militarized fairy dragons to join me over at the boulder?”

“Of course,” she replied. She launched herself skyward and shifted into her full-sized fairy dragon form. She let out a roar and remained, flapping above him as fairy dragons began to fly up to the platform. “Why now?” she asked.

Tristan walked to the back of the top boughs and looked out over the Springthaw Meadows. He could still see Onyx and Midnight, now running across the green, purple, and yellow grassland. The large boulder with the seal was in the center of the swirling ocean of stalks. “We will need some mounts,” he said. “The Wild Realm is a big place given what Bertram said. I think it’s time we got ourselves some Unicorns to ride.”

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He squatted down, spinning his crucible and feeling the cool, refreshing energy surge into his legs. “I will glide on these mighty wings!” he jumped up and the spectral draconic wings manifested as he glided toward the stone in the distance. He practiced swooping to gain some speed and then evening out to travel farther in his glide, and he touched down a few feet before the massive boulder.

The fairy dragons with their scythe-hands flew above him, and The Matriarch flapped above it all. “We are ready whenever you are,” she said with confidence.

Clambering up the object, Tristan placed his hand on the symbol scrawled atop. He spun and reverse-spun his crucible, pouring the Realm’s energy through him and into the seal. It glowed a deep, vibrant purple, and he also poured essence into his weapon and armor, activating Scales of Our Foe, Armor of Ice, Near Miss, Lucky Instinct, Elemental Imbuement with a focus on fire, and Dragon’s Doom.