B4 – Chapter 32: A trip home

Tristan lounged in the tub and luxuriated in the feeling of warm water soaking into his skin. The billowing steam in the room that shrouded sight was pleasant to breathe in, and he let out a sigh of contentment.

The pieces are set, he thought with eyes shut. Now I need to head back to the Fey Realm. I’ll have to tell Thallia that the nymphs need to coordinate the uprising. While they’re doing that, I can work with Krik on a plan of assault. Ideally, we can sneak some fairy dragons to Saumur to map out the capital and get a full layout.

Weeks of traveling through the Demon Realm were finally paying off. As the steam began to fade, he got up, dried off, and joined Felicity in the bedroom of the citadel’s suite they were staying in.

She was still in her fairy dragon form, curled up on a sumptuous pillow, and opened an eye to peer at him. “I’m not as big of a fan of Demonkin-you than usual-you.”

“Well, you’re the one maintaining the spell.” Tristan sat on the bed and stretched, feeling ligaments pop as he let out a grunt. “Gods, I’ve been tense from travel.”

Felicity flicked her tail back and forth. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, I think we should say our goodbyes and get back home sooner rather than later. It will take time for Thallia’s diplomats to coordinate the rebellion. Maybe a season, at the most? That would put us right into the end of Dark Season.”

“Hmm.” Felicity put a paw to her chin. “Is there anything else we should do while we’re here?”

“We could explore this city. But aside from that? Not really. Getting Philippe to agree to the pact was extremely easy. Good thinking on your feet, also, to repeat the ruse from before.”

“Oh yeah. I loved pulling that trick.”

“Going to swap for sleep?”

Felicity shook her head but moved aside to another pillow. “Nope. Want to maintain appearances. We’ll wait until we’re home.”

“Fair enough.” Tristan went over to the bed, got under the soft, fluffy covers, and closed his eyes. Felicity snuggled up next to his head, and he closed his eyes.

Knock, knock, knock. The loud rapping of knuckles against wood roused Tristan from his slumber. He lazily kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He grabbed his sword, belted it on, and then drew the blade from the sheath. Ensuring he held it out of sight of the door, he opened it a crack.

A well-dressed Demonkin stood before him and bowed gracefully. “Lord Tousles invites you to breakfast in an hour’s time.”

“Ah. Thanks. I’ll attend. Please return to fetch me.” Tristan shut the door and glanced over to the now-waking Felicity. “Help me get dressed and geared up. We’re getting breakfast.”

The hour passed quickly and Felicity settled on Tristan’s head as the Demonkin fetched the two and guided them to a small banquet hall near the kitchens. Eloise was already seated, chatting quite amicably with Lord Tousles. Tristan made sure to bow, but the demon lord waved him off. “Please. I’m not nearly as formal as my peers. Join us!”

“Thank you for your kind offer,” Tristan said as he took a seat. Felicity hopped off of his head and landed on the table next to his left hand.

“Marius, Eloise here was just telling me about your conquering of invaders from the Undying Realm. Such prowess and talent! No wonder Lord Winterbloom sought you out as the vessel of his vengeance.”

Eloise cast a sidelong glance at Tristan before returning her gaze to Philippe. “He is a powerful warrior. But a single combatant cannot bring down Duberceix.”

“Aye, too true. Marius, and Felicity, please let the chefs know what you desire.” He gestured to the kitchen, and one of the happy-looking Demonkin quickly appeared dressed in a full chef’s outfit. “The Tousles House values all types of crafts, including those of the culinary variety.”

“I would love toast and dippy eggs,” Tristan said.

“A huge pile of sausages!” Felicity added.

The chef bowed and went back into the kitchens, barking out orders. Philippe looked at Tristan with fascination. “Just eggs and toast? That is a simple meal.”

“I didn’t mean offense,” Tristan replied. “I’m sure it is beneath the skills of your cooks. It’s just a childhood favorite. I haven’t had them since—” His throat tightened as he remembered Gertude, choking on poison meant for him. He felt that burning, wrathful anger in his chest, the desire for revenge, for justice, boiling in his blood.

“Are you alright?” Eloise asked as she put a hand on his arm.

“The last person to make that meal for me died,” Tristan growled. He shook his head. “I am sorry, Lord Tousles. I must reject the kind offer of a meal. I should begin preparing for the assault. Lord Winterbloom will send emissaries soon to coordinate.”

The Demon Lord looked concerned, much like a parent who saw their child struggling with a difficult question. “I understand. It was a pleasure meeting you, Marius Lestrange.”

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Tristan looked at Eloise. “We’ll use our Otherrealm Retreat amulets. Can you handle things here?”

Eloise nodded. “The pact has been made. I’ll sort out the logistics.”

Felicity opened up her storage dimension and pulled out communication bangles set aside for just this moment. “Here you go!”

Eloise took them and handed one to the demon lord, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. “An artificed item that allows for communication anywhere in this realm. Lord Winterbloom’s emissaries carry them.” She looked at Tristan. “I’ll have some of my summoned bats fly these to the other demon lords. Should be a few days.”

“Thanks.” Tristan spun his crucible. “Ready, Felicity?”

“Yup!”

Tristan pushed the essence into the amulet and the world around him vanished. For a brief instance, he was in an all-encompassing black void. Then, he appeared in the Citadel of Essence’s infirmary. Keeping his crucible spinning, he diverted essence to the amulet holding Mark the Breach, and re-placed the arrival point.

Felicity appeared a moment later with a light pop sound. “Time to remove that spell.” She raised her paws and clapped them for effect, and Tristan’s Alter Form faded.

The sudden return of his sharper hearing caught him off guard for a moment, and he winced a little bit as his body readjusted. He quickly spun his crucible again and pushed the power into the Anorox Family Crest, taking on his Bhant Human appearance. “Thanks. Let’s get our badges and head back home.” They quickly made their way to one of the lines, and once they went in to see a clinician, they were given their student pins. “Inter-realm market while we wait?”

“Oooh yeah! I want to eat something. You took me away from breakfast.”

Tristan spun his crucible and directed the energy to the student pin, warping to the market. Felicity joined him a moment later, and he walked over toward the food vendor stalls. Acquiring food was easy enough, and as the two ate they people-watched. Tristan spun his crucible and poured the power into his ring the whole time, and when it was filled, the duo went to the edge of the marketplace before he activated it.

The Fey Realm was alive and full of excitement. Tristan dropped the Disguise Form and breathed in the pine-scented air. Reverse-spinning his crucible, he sucked in the ambient essence of the realm and felt rejuvenated. The area before the Queen’s Wood was just how it always was, but the sheer number of people was a bit more than Tristan had expected. He saw, to his surprise, new Heritages present.

“Look at that,” Felicity said as she made little paw-claw biscuits on his head. “You’ve got a Vantir here now!”

Tristan watched as the ashen-skin and red-eyed humanoid chatted idly with a gnome over near one of the crafting stations. “I guess we had some applicants who were accepted. The question is, how did they get here?”