B3 – Chapter 37: Inner World Discovery

Tristan’s gaze was lost in the endlessly cascading and branching lattice of leaves overhead; tracing one leaf to the next stem to a branch to another leaf – all while keeping track of the various fairy dragons who were playing a vicious game of tag. Felicity had become involved, and Tristan was primarily keeping an eye on her.

Vicious was the appropriate word, as their game looked nothing like what he used to play with Betram, Gisele, and the few servant-children who were near their age when they were all younger. In those games, pushes and shoves were the most extreme one would go to. Fairy dragons were far more raucous – biting, clawing, tail-thwapping, horn-pulling, wing-beating. Granted, he knew they could all repair themselves in some minor fashion, just like Felicity had when he had cut her wing upon his journey to the Fey Realm Seasons before.

I wonder how far their innate regeneration goes? Tristan thought as he got up to inspect the simmering pot. The cooling, minty smell hit his nostrils and sent a peal of clarity through his mind. Well, no time like the present. Taking a earthenware cup nearby, he scooped some of the still-boiling liquid up – not feeling the heat in the slightest thanks to his consumption of fire dragon blood.

Going back to the bench, he held the cup between his hands. “Felicity!” he called out.

When she pulled away from her game of tag to hang down in front of him from the tree lattice above, she was missing a horn. “Yeah?” she asked, panting from the rough play.

“Keep an eye on me. No clue what this is going to do.”

She shifted to her Elfanoid form, her horn regrowing as she shifted, and sat next to him, putting an arm behind him just in case he needed the support. “I got you.”

Tristan nodded and sipped the tea. It tasted how it smelled, a refreshing mint with a subtle tone of something else. He tried to put his finger on it as he took another few sips, eventually quaffing the entire cup. “Huh,” he muttered. “I don’t feel much different.”

“Maybe drink more?” Felicity asked as she got up, snatched the cup from him, and refilled it before bringing it back.

Tristan took the offered vessel and drank it down. “Nope, still noth-”

His words failed him as he was suddenly in his inner world. He had not done the breathing exercises to get there, he had not spun his crucible as he had before, he had not visualized the sphere in his chest – he was just there. Standing in front of the tree that was now filled to the fourth ring, and had the spell types he had access to listed out.

The tree was larger, and as he stood there…he felt cold. The snow his feet were ankle-deep in was chilling him to the core, and he could hear the roaring howl of the sleet swirling in an endless tempest. His teeth chattered and his breath gushed out in spirals of white that froze.

Panicking, he moved to the tree, hoping that it could keep him warm in some way. Come on! He thought as he spun his crucible and muttered a spell phrase. “Ich rufe eine Barriere herbei, die vor Flammen und Hitze schützt.” (I summon forth a barrier to protect from flame and heat). He held is palm out in front of his chest, the fingers and thumb together, placed it over the center of his chest, flipping his hand as he did so to touch palm to breast plate. Spinning his crucible while he did so, he saw the walls of his inner world accelerate, and a shroud of billowing silver flames with crackling red and gold surged up around him.

It did not bring respite from the biting cold. He curled up into a ball, trying to preserve heat as best he could. I need to get out of here! Tristan thought as he closed his eyes and spun his crucible as fast as it could go; the essence venting out of his body and imbuing the world around him. Come on! Get me out of here! He couldn’t bring his consciousness out of his crucible, and his body began to tingle before going numb.

Maybe if I spin my crucible and try to draw on fire elementalism? He thought as his mind raced. Come on, fire dragon blood. He envisioned the red and gold sparks, hoping for an inferno that would keep him alive – but nothing manifested, and the essence flooded out of him, into the inner world, and turned to ice.

Am…am I going to die inside my inner world? He thought as his breath did not come to him; his body slowly freezing against the tree at the center of his essence crucible. Can you even die inside your inner world? He mused for a moment in that hysteria one experiences while on the edge of death; their mind protesting against the body’s demise.

And then, it ceased. All the cold faded and he could breathe again. The inner world; a cascading realm of ice and snow as long as he had been there and could recall – crystallized. The snow instantly turned to glassy icy that was a perfect silver mirror reflecting the exterior of the essence crucible. All around the outside of the spherical dome of his inner world, Tristan could see the criss-crossing channels of colors representing the various elemental spell types he had acquired from his consumption of dragon blood. Gold and red for fire, the light blue of ice that had always been there, a deeper blue of water, a crackling yellow of lightning, black of smoke, and a deeper blue of water.

Turning to the tree, he gasped. The tree had grown in size – easily doubling in height and width. The rings were still there, as were the spell types engraved into the tree’s surface. Still a miniature version of the full Queen’s Wood, but the leaves were not green and purple: they were the colors of the various elementalism spell types he saw on the exterior of the crucible. And what exactly did that do? He thought as he put his hand on the tree.

Nothing happened, all was still and quiet. Focusing on returning to his body and leaving his crucible, he blinked and was sitting on the bench he had passed out on. The entire area was frozen; the bench, the alchemy table, the ground – and Felicity next to him. Shivering inside a cube as her eyes locked on him. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he pulled out the Queen’s Wood Staff, spun his crucible at full speed, and channeled the essence through his hands into the item as he activated Control Ice. He condensed all of it into a single sphere that he directed to rest on the ground next to the bench.

Felicity let out a slight hiss as she shifted to her fairy dragon form. “The heck was that about?!”

“I don’t know,” Tristan replied. “Are you okay?” he asked, feeling genuine fear of accidentally hurting her.

“I’m fine,” she said through chattering teeth. “Just cold.”

The other fairy dragons had stopped their game of tag and flown over to see the commotion, and one of them spoke in a shrill, male voice. “You drank a bunch of the tea, passed out, your essence flooded out, and froze everything!”

Tristan glanced up at the fairy dragon, “Thanks. You lot can use the ice ball for whate-”

Their voices began overlapping as they debated what to use it for – the shrill and deep tones clashing with each other before ultimately they decided to shave off chunks of it to make starberry slush beverages. As a unit, they grabbed the ice ball and flew off.

Felicity cleared her throat, “So…what did the tea do?”

Tristan described his experience inside his inner world, ending with, “…I think that I somehow improved my crucible?”

Felicity pondered that for a few moments before nodding, “Let’s go ask mom!” she flew off toward the Queen’s Wood, and Tristan jogged after her, into the main doors, and up the main stalk. He emerged just behind her, out on the top boughs overlooking the whole of the Fey Realm.

The Matriarch was standing at the Astrologer’s Glass, going between looking at it and making notes on a slip of parchment. She glanced back at Tristan’s booted approach, and her voice was curt. “Lord Tristan.”

He walked over to her and bowed deeply, “I know Felicity apologized on my behalf,” he said as he still felt remorse for the way he had treated her earlier. “I should not treat you as someone at my beck and call. I would ask for your forgiveness.”

The Matriarch looked thoughtful and her expression softened, “I…I accept the apology, Lord Tristan. You are the ruler of this Realm, it is your right to “boss us around” as some of my children would put it.”

Stolen story; please report.

Tristan shook his head as he stood up straight and let his hand rest on his sword’s hilt. “I value your wisdom and insights, and while I acknowledge my position and status, I also said I would be different from Zeltana and rule more justly. Part of that is not pulling you away from what you are doing unless it is urgent. Thank you for forgiving me. Now, I need you to use divination to evaluate my essence crucible.”

The Matriarch nodded and spoke softly, “I shall use an Eight Order spell; Crucible Nature Invocation.” She put the fingertips of her left hand into the shape of a circle, with the middle finger tucked into the palm, and placed it on his head. “Paljasta minulle tämän olemuksen sulatusuunin voima ja ominaisuudet.” (Reveal to me the power and qualities of this essence crucible).

Her rainbow-colored essence cascaded out of the circle formed by her fingers, over Tristan’s whole body, before narrowing down in a spiral on his chest and then pulling back to her fingers and up to her head. She pulled her fingers back from his forehead with a puzzled look on her face.

“Well?” Felicity asked. “What happened?”

The Matriarch’s puzzled look persisted, “It…It was Platinum before, was it not? In rarity.”

“Yeah,” Tristan said as a feeling of trepidation flickered through him.

“Well…it is not anymore.” She tapped her chest, “It is divine rarity, as is mine as a Realm Protector.”

Felicity frowned, “What’s that mean?”

“My essence refills itself faster,” Tristan replied as he recalled Obadai’s teaching while traversing the sea. “And it is easier to meditate to get into my inner world.”

“That brushes the surface,” The Matriarch stated. “It also means your essence-weaving will be more potent by nature. But, in addition to essence regeneration rate and your increased potency…you could now become a Realm Protector if you chose to.”

That stopped Tristan’s thoughts in their tracks, “What?”