Tristan handed off the filled container to The Matriarch the following morning. She gave him a thoughtful look, and softly spoke. "You did the right thing, Lord Tristan, securing the Winterbloom bloodline."
"Nobility must persist," Tristan replied. "I understand my duty as the lord of this Realm. Without my bloodline, then no new changes could be wrought and it would stagnate aside from you grafting new Realms."
"It is good you realize and come to terms with this," The Matriarch stated as she placed the vessel into her storage dimension. "And how are things with my daughter?"
Tristan felt a warm flush along his cheeks, "They are going well. I deeply care for her, and she for me."
"I could tell based on her reaction to Thallia last night." The Matriarch smiled, "And with this insurance you provided, you do not need to worry about taking an Elf heritage wife."
"For which I'm glad," Tristan stated with relief. "I couldn't imagine marrying someone I did not truly care about."
The Matriarch gestured for him to follow her, "Come." She led the way down the root spiral at the center of the Queen's Wood, and Tristan followed her. Down to the base of the tree, and the pool of sap bubbling at the bottom. "You recall some time ago I said you could undergo a trial to improve your physical form, yes?"
"I do remember that," Tristan said. He eyed the pool and felt a sense of sorrow wash over him as he recalled committing his mother's corpse to the pool. He heard a soft sigh in the air; as if someone was trying to whisper to him but they remained on the edges of sensibility. Pushing aside the chill going down his spine, he stared at The Matriarch, "You want me to take the trial."
"Yes," she replied with a frown. "I know it is risky. It is dangerous. But you need to have every asset available to you."
He felt a fear race through him. The description of the trial of the sap that The Matriarch had given him before was still terrifying to consider. I could drown in the sap. I could die from the pain it will inflict. And no one can help me. Risking death for what? He stopped thinking and spoke to stave off the torrent of thoughts. "What exactly will happen to me if I pass this trial?"
"You will improve every aspect of your physical being. Strength, speed, agility, reaction time; everything. It will not grant you skill with weapons – you must still train that, nor will it grant you essence weaving prowess. But if you seek to empower your body to the height of potential, this is the way. You would be in peak physique for the rest of your life – even if you became sedentary." The Matriarch's face grew tight as she sternly spoke, "Many Winterbloom have undertaken the trial. Many have failed."
Tristan turned away, "I…why should I take the risk-"
"You are doing dangerous things, Lord Tristan. Hunting dragons, being hunted by assassins – why prevent yourself from every advantage possible?"
Tristan looked back to The Matriarch who stood resolutely, like a statue watching over a courtyard as a sentinel. "I am scared, okay? I like living. Taking a risk that could kill me for what, getting stronger? Okay, I can get stronger by training. Less risk."
The Matriarch frowned, "I respect your decisions, Lord Tristan…but you should seriously consider this. Only Winterbloom may undergo the trial of the sap, and it is the singular most potent enhancement you could ask for to improve yourself in a short period of time."
"I need to talk to Felicity," Tristan said hurriedly as he left the chamber and went to find her. She was still in his room, lounging in the bed in her Elfanoid form. Tristan shut the door behind him, and went to sit next to her.
"Hey there," she said, but her demeanor shifted to concern. "What's wrong?"
"The trial of the sap…" Tristan spent the next few minutes sharing what The Matriarch had told him, and continued. "…I am afraid. I don't want to take an unnecessary risk if I don't have to."
Felicity was sitting up by this point and she grabbed his hand between hers. She took a deep breath, "You've almost died several times now. And each of those times you did not get stronger from it. I…I think…you should do it. Because, at least, this time, you get something out of the near-death experience."
Tristan was still afraid, and he could feel his heart racing at the memories of his near-death experiences playing back through his mind. His mouth was dry, and he gripped Felicity's hand. "I'll…" He shook his head, "I need to talk to someone." He stood up.
Felicity stood while holding his hand, "Want me to be with you?"
Tristan shook his head, "Not right now." He gave her a kiss, then left her in the chamber. Going to a few fairy dragons up in the central spire of the Queen's Wood, he was able to inquire and eventually track down his grandfather's location.
The older man was out in the training field, working with some of the wooden weights. He had grown a bit of meat on his bones, but not much. He looked at Tristan as he walked closer, "Hey, son. Come to train?"
"No. I need your thoughts," Tristan said as he sat on a nearby bench. He shared what The Matriarch had told him, and his conversation with Felicity. "…What would you do in my boots?"
Hurvun set down the wooden weights and sat next to him on the bench. "Son…if I had the means to near-instantly reach the maximum potential for my body…I'd do it in a heartbeat. Damn the consequences." He put a hand on Tristan's knee and squeezed it affectionately. "I have had thirteen near-death experiences in my sixty-five years. I mean bleeding out on the floor, edge-of-death experiences." He chuckled, "When you're hunting dragons, you're always going to near-death."
"And I've had four like that," Tristan replied.
"Aye. Think of that, thirteen spread over sixty-five years, versus four in less than a year." He gave a sidelong glance to Tristan before leaning back and placing his hands behind him on the bench. Hurvun stared up into the sky, "You should take the risk. It's a gamble, sure, but the benefits will be worth it."
"…Thanks, grandfather," Tristan said as he stood up.
"Want me to be nearby? I know I can't help, but maybe just my old-man stubbornness can help in some way," Hurvun chuckled.
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"Sure." Tristan began heading to the Queen's Wood with his grandfather in tow. He spun his crucible both directions, "Matriarch, to the trial. Felicity, you too."
A few minutes later Tristan stood before the bubbling pool of sap. Hurvun and The Matriarch stood nearby, but Felicity was right in front of him. Tristan gave her a passionate kiss and held her close.
"You'll survive," Felicity said softly. "You have to. You can't leave me alone."
Tristan nodded, "I'll try my best." He pulled away from her and turned to face the sap.
The Matriarch spoke, "Strip down so you are not impeded." Tristan did as he was instructed, handing the clothes to Felicity. "The sap's depths are unknown, but all you must do is fully submerge your body, and then vent your essence fully. When you are completely tapped out, then you reverse-spin, and try to suck in the ambient essence of the Realm. Instead, though, you will suck in the vitality of the Queen's Wood."
Tristan took several deep breaths, reaching a hand out to grab Felicity's hand and squeezing it. He was afraid. It is worth the risk, he thought as he let her hand go and approached the edge. I will survive this. I need to be stronger. To survive. He took a deep breath and jumped in, feet first.
It felt like stepping into honey or syrup, and he sank down to his chest rapidly. The sap was sticky, warm, and almost soothing in a way. But he could feel it prickling along his skin, like his foot had fallen asleep – but along his whole body and at a lower intensity.
The Matriarch came over and leaned over him, "Deep breath, Lord Tristan." He inhaled deeply, and she put both hands on his head as she shoved him down.
He could feel the sticky sap cover his chest, shoulders, and shut his eyes as tightly as he could as he was fully submerged. Once his head was all the way in, he began to sink.
Focusing on his essence crucible, he visualized it in his chest. Spinning the silver orb as fast as he could, he vented all of his essence into the surrounding sap. It began to move aside as he created a void in it, and he sank deeper into the now-open space. He felt his feet touch something firm and rough with bark texture – he assumed the deepest roots.
And the Queen's Wood seemed to respond to his presence. The root beneath him was warm – almost too hot to touch, but comforting. The whispers he had heard up in the tree near the sap pit were louder here – thousands of voices overlapping and talking to each other.
As he finished venting the last of his essence and felt the tiredness take over, the sap re-collapsed around and onto him. The voices became louder and louder, and they were all begging him for something. He had no clue what they wanted.
But one voice cut through the rest. A voice he had not heard in over two years. "Tristan…"
He instantly knew the voice. He wanted to say "mother," but knew he had to keep all of the air in his lungs that he could. He was so, so tired; his lack of essence draining his vitality entirely. But he mustered the mental fortitude to reverse spin his crucible. Faster and faster, he saw the visualized essence crucible fill up with the sap.
Then, pain. Agony. Every limb felt like it was being torn and wrenched out of place. He grit his teeth and kept the breath in his lungs. The tearing and wrenching gave way to a burning cold; the type of cold that seared upon touch. Tristan kept reverse spinning his crucible, and when the visualization was full of sap, he heard a chorus of voices, all overlapping.
"Rise."
"Swim up."
"Survive."
"Keep making me proud," his mother cut through once more; clearer than before.
The pain was excruciating. Every nerve screamed at him. Nothing had ever compared to it, and he unintentionally let out some air that bubbled into the sap around him.
"Get out of here."
"It is not time to join us."
"Winterbloom, rise."
A female voice cut through the throng, silencing them. "This is what my bloodline has come to? A mutt?"
Zeltana, Tristan instinctively knew it was her. The progenitor of the Winterbloom.
"Come on, mutt. Show me that an impure Winterbloom is worthy of the trial's blessings." The tone was arrogant and condescending.
I'll fucking show you, Tristan thought as the pain built to a crescendo and he grit his teeth as he swam up through the sticky sap. I'm not just a Winterbloom. I'm an Anorox. He felt the pain lessen slightly, becoming less of a burning and more of a stinging. I'm a dragonslayer, he thought. The pain lessened even further. I'm the Lord of the Fey Realm. The pain faded and receded even more, until it was just a faint tingle on his skin.
"Hmph. Well, color me impressed." Zeltana's voice sounded pleased. "Go ahead then, mutt. Rule the Realm."
"I love you, my little sapling," his mother said.
Tristan breached the surface of the sap and sucked in a deep breath. He felt hands grab him and drag him up before depositing him onto the ground. He rolled onto his side and coughed up the little bit of sap that had made its way into his lungs. The air around him was warm, and he shivered as a last wave of tingles washed over his body.
"Damn," Hurvun muttered. "That did a number on you."
Felicity shook him slightly, her face coming into focus as she wiped the sticky ichor from his eyelids so he could open them. "Tristan? Are you okay?"
"I'm alive. I heard mother! I heard Zeltana!" he tried to sit up, and sat up a lot faster than he intended to, and the sudden movement flung some sap from his body.
The Matriarch frowned, "Lord Tristan…you did not hear them. You heard echoes."
"But…I heard her. I heard them! Thousands of voices!" Tristan.
"No," The Matriarch replied with a deeper set frown, "Those who die in the Fey Realm are in my care, within my crucible effectively. And your mother died in the Mortal Realm. You were hallucinating voices."
"Zeltana called me a mutt and doubted me," Tristan stated, feeling the brief burst of anger billow up within. "I showed her wrong." He looked up to The Matriarch, "And I've never met her before."
That seemed to catch The Matriarch off guard, and she spoke, surprised. "You…heard Zeltana?" Tristan nodded, and she continued, "Well, she did sacrifice herself to the tree here. So perhaps part of her consciousness lingers. I do not have her within my crucible."
Felicity helped Tristan stand up, "Come on. Just let it go. Let's get you cleaned up."
Grandfather Hurvun, silent until that point, spoke. "Tristan…I'm proud of you. You took a risk, and it looks like it paid off. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some starberry wine to test out." He turned and left.
Felicity led Tristan back to his room. He felt strong, every footstep sure. He jumped into the pool in his chambers and began to wash off the sap which seemed to melt away in the waters.
The Matriarch walked in behind them and shut the door. "My lord…I believe the trial had an…unexpected addition. It may explain why Zeltana called you a mutt."
"What?" Tristan asked.
Felicity produced a small mirror from her pocket dimension and held it up. Tristan could see a very faint pattern along his skin. Small, incredibly small lines in the shape of scales, accentuated some of his facial features. Along the brow, the jawline, down to his collarbone, and as he looked down at his physique, along his forearms, thighs, shins, and feet. "What happened?" he asked aloud.
The Matriarch pondered aloud, "The way the trial of the sap works is that the physique of the bloodline is brought to its maximum potential. As none of your dragonslayer bloodline had reached that peak, I can only surmise that the slight dragon scales are the result of one reaching the utmost physical potential."
Felicity wrapped her hands around his bicep and could barely fit both hands around it. "You got a lot more muscular," she commented. Glancing down, she smirked, "And bigger elsewhere."
Tristan held his hand up in front of him, and then felt his forearm. It was solid, like iron, with barely any give from the muscle. "I feel a lot stronger. I just hope my armor still fits." He ran a finger along his brow, holding the small hand mirror as he felt the slight texture of his flesh. "It definitely marks me as not quite an Elf." He dunked his head into the water, and to his delight the sap completely faded away and whisked into nothingness. He hoisted himself out of the water with incredible ease.
Felicity handed him one of the large evapalm leaves and after he dried off he went to the full-length mirror in the chamber. Wow, he thought as he examined his far more heavily muscled body. The trial was definitely worth it if I'm like this all the time. "Let's go to the training field," he said with a grin. "Matriarch…lets spar. I need to see what the full breadth of the changes entail."
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