B3 – Chapter 44: Archon at Court

A few hours passed in blissful rest for Tristan. Just relaxing on the bed, talking softly to Felicity as he shared his thoughts on everything that happened the day before – from slaying the Spriggan that were infected, to his tutorial from Zeltana, and the creation of the new species itself.

“I’m a little afraid,” he said softly as he ran a hand along the side of her head, his fingers tracing a tiny circle in her hair around the small antlers atop her crown. “It is a lot of responsibility. I mean, I’m responsible for them, now.”

“You’re responsible for the whole Realm,” Felicity replied softly as she rubbed his arm, her head resting on his chest. “It comes with the territory of being a ruler.”

Tristan nodded, “I know. But I can still feel a bit overwhelmed by the fact, can’t I?”

“You can feel whatever you want,” she replied. “As long as you are still you, and that fear, or whatever you feel overwhelmed by – that doesn’t change what you do.” She raised her head, propping herself up on her elbows and locked eyes with him. “Just do what you do, and be confident about it.”

There was a knock at the door, and Tristan gently extricated himself from Felicity, standing up, throwing on some basic pants and a jerkin, and opened the door. A fairy dragon was on the other side, and flew up to head height. “The Human from the Mortal Realm wants to talk.”

Tristan glanced back to Felicity, “I have to meet with Obadai.”

Felicity just gave him a brief wave goodbye, a cheeky little air-kiss, and then rolled over as she opened her extradimensional storage space and grabbed her Omnitome.

Tristan existed and followed the fairy dragon upstairs, across the clearing in front of the Queen’s Wood which had been mostly cleaned up. The large, squared-off logs had been stacked on a far side of the clearing for future use, and it seemed that everyone was still tipsy or hung over. “How are the wine and mead reserves?” Tristan asked.

“Not a ton,” the fairy dragon replied. “Dorni said we only get to have a party like that once a Season!”

To be expected, Tristan thought. Now, let’s see what Obadai’s visit is about. He walked over to the tree-house the fairy dragon directed him to, and knocked on the door politely. A few seconds passed before the Archon opened the door. “I’m here,” Tristan said with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I slept in.”

“You drank a hefty amount last nice,” Obadai said as he raised his quizzical eyebrow. “I have news, but also know you have a Fey Court. They may wish to provide their input. Any chance we can discuss while they are present?”

Tristan turned to the fairy dragon next to him, “Summon the Fey Court.”

Tristan and Obadai were joined by the rest of the Fey Court in the council chamber. Including the newest member, Krik, who took a seat opposite Tristan at the farthest end of the table. Obadai was given a chair that was just a little pulled back from the table, next to Dorni and Thallia. “Okay, we are all here. Obadai, go ahead.”

The Archon stood up and bowed, “For those who have not met me, my name is Obadai Grimtome. Archon, of the Lifebringers and Corpsecaller bloodlines.” He produced a scroll from inside his robes and set it on the table. “I traveled with Tristan for many Seasons, even coming here many times, and helped to train him in essence-weaving.” Obadai looked up to Tristan, “He has my trust, and I believe he trusts me, as well.”

Tristan nodded and replied in confirmation. “Obadai provided wise council. Please, Obadai, continue.”

The Archon unfurled the document which was a large map of The Mortal Realm. “The Empire of Dorcelli, whom I represent, have fully conquered the continent of Dorcel. We are expanding our foothold on Forsol from the north over the Deep Channel, and east to Klaktol along its western cities. We have begun to move into the Gredo Expanse north of Bhant.”

“And why does this concern us?” Dorni asked.

“Forsol has a large population of Elf-blooded,” Obadai replied. He looked to Tristan, “The Matriarch and I spoke some last night about your plans regarding giving your kin the option to return here.”

The Matriarch replied, “Yes. We have diplomatic groups that are already preparing to venture into The Mortal Realm, and other Realms besides, to offer and then transport the Elf heritages back here.”

Obadai continued, “The Empire of Dorcelli understands your efforts, and seeks an alliance.”

Tristan tented his hands, resting his elbows on the arm rests of his seat as he leaned back. “I told you I am not interested in politics, Obadai.”

The Archon sighed and pushed the map to the center of the table, “I know,” he said with regret filling his voice. “And I am only here because my empress told me to do so. I am to present terms. You would not be providing any military assistance – only logistics. I am not the only Realmwalking capable essence-weaver, and our biggest issue is that the Empire does not have many fleets. Construction is underway, but we do not have designs for warships or troop carriers.”

Krik’s voice rumbled out, “You wish to use us as a supply depot and staging area. As teleporting across a whole Realm is taxing, but by using Realmwalking you can house troops and supplies here while your essence-weaver gets to the destination with a small force, and then the housed troops can emerge in the location you desire.”

Obadai snapped his fingers, “Precisely.” He looked back to Tristan, then around the table making eye contact with everyone. “You would not be giving us any military aid – just a small part of the Fey Realm that our men and supplies can stay in. We would bring our own food. Just space is all I ask.”

Thallia spoke, her voice sounding quite terse and aggrieved. “And what would we get in return for our benevolence?”

Obadai reached into his robes and produced two pieces of parchment that were rolled up. “The first is a contract. A binding contract.”

The Matriarch leaned over to Tristan and rapidly whispered, “Binding is a spell type that is focused around forming pacts and contracts that are not easily broken, and if they are broken, then extreme consequences may be suffered.”

Obadai waited for her to finish whispering then continued, “The Empress, Naomi Celli, first of her name, ruler of the Empire of Dorcelli and its subsidiary states, offers the following deal; all Elves will be permitted to and provided with escort to locations in The Mortal Realm, where they can then be transported via Realmwalking performed by an essence-weaver, here to their ancestral homeland. In exchange for the housing and storage I spoke of.”

Tristan frowned, “Obadai, please step outside while we discuss.”

The Archon nodded and bowed at his waist, leaving the room as the fairy dragon guards closed it behind them.

The entire room exploded with various voices all overlapping.

“It’s too dangerous,” The Matriarch said confidently. “We should reject it outright.”

“They have demonstrated their ability to seemingly enter the Fey Realm at will,” Krik replied.

Prish spoke, “The entire point of putting together Thallia’s diplomacy corps was to do what they are offering. Surely the sooner we get the Elves back, the safer they will be.”

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Dorni grumbled, “I hate politics.”

Thallia was the most fiercely opposed, standing up and near-shouting, “This will not stand! We cannot sign a binding agreement like a pact!”

Felicity did not speak, but just walked over to Tristan, shifting to her fairy dragon form, and perching on the top of his chair’s back rest. The Sheepkin tailor, Dorothy, spoke in a firm, resolute voice that seemed to cut through the rest. “Lord Tristan.”

As the other voices quieted, Tristan nodded, “Yes, Dorothy?”

She stood up, “I am opposed to this offer. Furthermore, we must restrict any Realmwalking access to the Fey Realm without authorization.”

The Matriarch replied, “The Archon was permitted to realmwalk by me. A Realm Protector can control access, and is notified when such a feat is attempted.”

“Remove his access then,” Dorni stated. She looked to Tristan with near-pleading eyes but a placid expression. “I have seen the horrors of violence, and whilst I do not have personal experience with this empire from across the seas…the sound of their expansion leaves me cautious. What would happen if they chose to try and invade the Fey Realm?”

Krik replied brusquely, “Then they would fall to my brethren and I.” He tilted his head slightly, eliciting a slight creak of wood bending. “I say we put it to a vote.”