Tristan got atop the wall and gently stepped down onto the parapet. There were only a few soldiers here, conversing about how lucky they were to be on duty in the main keep. They didn't give even a second glance towards Tristan, and he descended the steps to the small courtyard. Preparations had already been completed, it seemed as no one was outside.

The main doors were shut, and Tristan lightly tugged on them. Locked tight, he thought. "Felicity," he whispered. "Any ideas?"

She flapped down to his feet and shifted shapes into a mouse, darting into a hole that Tristan had not noticed; a small gap between the stones that was partially obscured by the slight growth along the base of the building. A few seconds passed and the door swung inward ever-so-slightly. Tristan slipped inside and shut it, and Felicity landed atop his head in her fairy dragon form once more. "I am quite handy," she said. "Praise me."

"You're the best fairy dragon," Tristan whispered. The hallway before him was not lit, but thanks to his heritage he could make out the interior space easily enough. A long, stone corridor with wooden support beams overhead, from which lanterns that were unlit dangled. Where are they, Tristan thought as he drew his sword and slowly went forward.

He stopped and closed his eyes at an intersection of hallways, shutting out his other senses as he focused on his hearing. Far forward, he heard the sound of chanting in the guttural speech of Death's Breath – the language brought by the Vantir when they entered the Mortal Realm. The cadence led Tristan to believe that it was some type of essence-weaver, and he focused on the here-and-now, anticipating a conflict.

The passageway ahead turned sharply to the left and following it along Tristan saw two guards standing at attention in the hallway. I can't just slip past them, he thought.

Felicity leaned her head down next to his ear, "Just let me. Hug the wall back a little bit."

Tristan moved back and did so, as Felicity flew off, back down the entrance corridor, and was silent.

For all of about two seconds, as a raucous noise from the Resonance Bangle using the artifice-stored spell of Discordant Melody crashed out. Tristan had to cover his ears as the metallic ringing echoed through the hallways.

The guards glanced at each other and tramped their heavy armored selves down the hall, past the intersection Tristan had ducked into, and towards the clanging noise. It gave him the chance to move forward, and he did so – with Felicity landing atop his head a few moments later. "I love that thing," she said softly. "So much fun for making a distraction!"

Tristan nodded his head and followed the passage past a few locked doors, and it curved to the right. He saw the enormous doors that were twins to the one that Prince Merrill's throne room had been behind, and the chanting here was much louder. He could see flashes of green light from underneath the door. "Felicity, can you slip under the gap?"

"Too small," she replied. She scrabbled off his head and flopped onto the ground, shoving her head sideways against the floor. Pulling her head back up, she had a grimace on her face and her tone was deathly serious. "Essence-weaver of some type. They look like they're doing a big spell. Tons of weird marks on the walls and odd symbols."

"We have to bust in and stop it," Tristan replied, trying to steel his resolve. But he was nervous. He had not actually fought an essence-weaver before. Sure, practice against The Matriarch as she used spellweaving just as he had during their bouts…but practice was a far cry from the real thing. His heart was racing, and he felt his pulse pound in his temples.

Felicity must have picked up on it, as she flew up and flapped in front of his face. She had a calm, but stern expression. "Hey. Listen. You are going to be fine. You're a Winterbloom Elf. Strongest of them all." She slapped his cheek lightly, "Let's stop whatever it is they are doing. I'll mess up the symbols."

Tristan felt the trepidation fill him, and he could feel the sweat slowly saturating his gloves inside the armored gauntlets. I've got essence weaving of my own, he thought. I can handle this. Take the prince out, get his head, stop this battle in its tracks and save lives. He used his free hand to grip the door's handle, and he pushed.

The door was locked. Tristan cursed under his breath before stepping back and delivering a savage kick to the center, splintering the wood as the door blasted inward.

The room behind was a long, narrow chamber. At the far end was a chair with an imposing figure seated upon it. A near-identical twin to Prince Merrill, save for the eyes – those were deep brown. The room was illuminated by a pale, grey light with intermittent flashes. Fifteen feet in front of him, between Tristan and the throne, a woman stood, chanting in Death's Breath.

"A nyní tě konečně vyzýváme, strašlivý pane. Přijď do naší říše a zachraň nás před našimi nepřáteli! Hoduj na jejich mrtvolách!"

Tristan had no clue what she was saying, but she must have come to the end of her spell phrase as the symbols pulsed with a sickly, green light and the woman glanced back at him. The two of their gazes met, and she began to open her mouth – but Tristan didn't let her act. He ran forward and slammed his fist into her head, sending her reeling backward.

Into the circle of runes; sentences written in Death's Breath in concentric circles and squares. The woman screamed and was turned to green mist. Prince Roland stood up, "No!" he shouted. "The spell must finish!"

Tristan couldn't see a way past the runes and sigils that covered the width of the room. "Felicity, voitko sammuttaa riimut?" (Felicity, can you disable the runes?).

She shook her head and hopped off to his side, growing in size until she came up to his hips, and her body shifted to the form of a dragon.

The sigils vanished, and a green, spectral form began to slowly phase into existence. It took solid form and stood upon the ground. A huge, armored figure that barely fit into the room. Masculine, with shoulder pauldrons that were as big as Tristan's torso, legs the size of tree trunks, and carrying a massive sword on his hip. No features were discernable aside from the black metallic shell, covered with embossed skulls. The figure turned around to face Prince Roland, and it spoke in that guttural speech. "Kde jsou ti lidé, na kterých budu hodovat?"

The prince didn't seem to understand, and Tristan watched a morbid scene unfold as the armored figure from another Realm moved to the throne, grabbed the prince, and snapped him in half with a single squeeze of his hand. He tossed the corpse back towards Tristan, and the prince's body slid to a halt just in front of him.

Thinking quickly, he cut off the head and Felicity put the object into her storage dimension. Then, he turned tail and ran. Still invisible. Not seen by the creature – or at least he hoped he was unnoticed.

It's too small of a space to maneuver, he thought. And it is so strong, I don't think I can fight it on my own. There's a whole army outside. He glanced down and saw Felicity running alongside him; still sparkling demonstrating her invisibility as being active. But he also heard the enormous, armored footsteps of the thing that had been summoned from another Realm of existence, and then a horrific metal-on-stone screeching that pierced his ears. It must be squeezing through the halls.

Tristan saw the guards looking in his direction, and he ran through the gap between them as he blitzed by. Reaching the door to the outside, he heard the shouts, screams, and panic of the two guards behind him as they were slain. Tristan threw the door open and ran up the stairs to the walls.

The sudden commotion and screaming from inside caused those on the walls to face the opening door, bows at the ready as they shouted out warnings to each other. The armored figure burst through the doorway, shattering some of the stonework. The soldiers let loose, and their arrows either bounced off the metal carapace of the giant figure or missed entirely.

"What is it?"

"I don't know! Keep shooting!"

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"Gods save us…"

The men began to fall to disarray; some shooting more arrows to no avail, some fleeing towards the stairs to try and drop the drawbridge, and a few standing still in shock at the invincible juggernaut The creature drew its sword – easily the size of a great sword – and held the weapon in one hand. "Ach, to zvládnete. Jak asi bude chutnat tvoje duše?" It's rattling, deep voice caused fear to pulse through Tristan's mind, and he felt his body lock up in place for a brief instant.

His essence crucible, almost on its own, spun and flooded his body with essence. It filled his body fully, and the surge of cool, gentle energy caused his fluttering heart to still and his fear to wash away. He pushed the essence into his armor and the protective encasement grew over him. Running to the farthest edge of the parapet, he watched with a grim fascination and dread as the figure raised its hand and shouted out, "Volá tě síla neumírajícího - odevzdej mi svou vitalitu!"

The men on the wall screamed out before they were silenced – their bodies shriveling up as all vitality was drained from them, leaving them as husks on the wall. Small lines of sickly green energy flew into the figure's outstretched palm, and it cackled with delight before moving to the raised drawbridge and kicking out at the reinforced wood.

The heavy wooden crossing fell with a loud bang as the figure strode across; Tristan and Felicity following close behind. Tristan was not idle, though, and he was spinning his essence crucible, and raised his hand. I can't let it into the city at large, he thought. I need to use the most injurious spell at my disposal.

"Ich beschwöre die Wut von Eis und Frost herauf: Ich forme Splitter, die mein Ziel durchbohren und aufschlitzen." (I summon forth the fury of ice and frost: form shards that will pierce and slash my target). He pressed his fingers together, tucking his thumb on top, and bent it slightly to form a means of targeting the creature before him.

Thankfully, the thing didn't hear him, as the sounds of combat far off at the main walls drowned out the quiet sound of Tristan's whispering. He felt the essence surge into his palm and a spike of ice formed next to him. Handing his sword to Felicity, he uncorked the last (greater) essence elixir he had on his bandolier and quaffed it – reverse spinning his crucible as he turned the fluid into essence which he then fed into the growing ice spike. The air began to super cool and cascade from around the spike as it grew.

When Tristan had drained his essence to a quarter of its full capacity, and the spike was the size of a cart – he let the spell loose. It shot forward as fast as an arrow from a war bow and impaled the monstrous foe. The spike flung the figure forward and then stuck them to the ground. It stood up a moment later – slowly and obviously injured as green ichor slipped out from around the impaling shard of ice.

It turned to Tristan, and the Elf took his sword back from Felicity. Both were still invisible, and the figure looked in the duo's direction, letting out a shout. "Odvažuješ se zaútočit na pána z říše neumírajících? Vyjdi ven a čel své zkáze!" It held its ground, pushing the ice spike out of its torso, and letting the offending shard clatter to the ground. The hole in the chest began to slowly mend and Tristan felt that surge of fear down his spine once more as it regenerated.

But his fears were allayed slightly as the regeneration seemed to stop. Green goop still dripped from the hole, and as the figure stood still, Tristan moved to the side of the boulevard with Felicity. He didn't want to risk saying anything and giving away his position. I can't do another Frost Flurry. And I doubt my arrows are going to do anything different from the ones the archers were using. He glanced down at Felicity and she stood there, tense.

She glanced up at him, "He can't hear me, so don't speak back. Want me to firebomb him? I'm sure I can find some alcohol and flint somewhere around here?"

Tristan nodded, and Felicity's shape shifted back to her usual fairy dragon form. She took off, and Tristan stayed put as the armored entity slowly approached. Its head was turning to examine every corridor and tilted up to peer at the rooftops.

Tristan saw Felicity flying overhead, observed a brief spark of flame, and then watched as a bottle fell onto the creature, shattered, releasing its alcohol contents, and then lit aflame. The creature let out a grunt and looked up – but could not see Felicity. That did not stop it from whispering some chant under its breath.

Felicity must have sensed something as being 'off' as she flew away – and in the space immediately above the armored monstrosity, a cloud of sickly green miasma ascended into the skies.

Tristan sheathed the sword and pulled out the maul. He's got heavy armor, Tristan thought, so a sword would slip right off it. But a few good crushing blows should do a good job. He hefted the weapon, cocked it onto his shoulder in preparation to swing, and sprinted at full speed to the figure.

It must have heard his approaching footsteps as its turned to face him. It's voice rumbled out from behind the helm, "Ach, neviditelný nepřítel. Pojď na mě!"

Tristan had no clue what it said, but he leaped up and swung the maul with all of his might. The figure must have felt the air move as the attack careened toward is head, as the figure shifted to the left just enough that Tristan's hammer strike crumpled the shoulder pauldron instead of striking the head. It let out a grunt of pain as Tristan landed, spun in a circle on his left foot, and used the spinning momentum to deliver a horizontal blow against its now-injured arm right at the elbow joint – cracking that.

It spun with the impact and unleashed a vicious backswing towards Tristan – but it was too high, and Tristan barely bent his knees as the swipe went careening over him. His confidence was buoyed up, and Tristan clenched his teeth into a smile under his helm. He could feel his essence running low, and instead of dropping the invisibility spell, he chose to stop fueling the spell in his armor. I don't need heavy defenses if he can't see me.

The figure attempted a cross-chop, and Tristan stepped back, cocked the maul back once more, and swung a mighty blow at its chest. The figure staggered back, then let out a growl and raised its hand. Tristan dove to the side as it spoke, "Roztrhni je a ukradni jim životní sílu!" A blast of green energy streaked out, and Tristan came up in a roll as the energy washed across the buildings that had been behind them. They looked unaffected, but he saw the hay on top desiccate even further as it became dust.

His movement caused his armor to clatter on the ground, and the armored hulk turned, releasing a horizontal chop that Tristan had to block with the shaft of the maul. The blade slammed into the Starmetal handle, and Tristan was flung backward onto his arse, rolling to his feet and taking up a ready stance.

"Tristan! You're covered with dirt and dust!" Felicity shouted from above as she dropped another flaming bottle on the figure before him. "Drop the spell! Save your essence!"

Tristan followed Felicity's order and let the invisibility fade. The fires licked around the creature in front of him, and the entity let out an intrigued noise as the torrent of flames licked around his feet. "Elf?"

I guess Death's Breath doesn't have a word for my heritage, Tristan thought as he readied his stance once more. He wanted to play on the defensive side; not wanting to risk opening himself to a strike. With the invisibility dropped, he spun his essence crucible once more and pushed the powerful inner strength into his armor.

The figure took two earth-shaking steps forward and swung its sword down in a vertical chop. Tristan dodged to the left and as the blade slammed into the ground, he kicked off of the flat of the weapon with one foot. Using that push to fuel his momentum, he rapidly spun on the ball of his other foot, slamming his maul into the figure's side – caving the armor in and earning a yell of pain.

The thing wrenched its blade free from the ground and swung with a vicious upward horizontal cross-chop. Tristan ducked under the swing and brought the maul up to slam into the underside of the helmet. That sent the figure careening backward, taking a few steps to steady itself, and Tristan followed up with another downward slam – right into the injured shoulder. He felt the armor crush in the rest of the way, the bone underneath shatter, and the arm hung limp.

Taking a step back, he avoided the counterattack and took up a ready stance once more. The figure's face was fully visible – a gaunt, withered skull that had four eye sockets – two on either side of a hole where a nose must have once been. The skull was stained a sickly green, and glowing, green orbs were in the eye sockets. Instead of teeth, razor-sharp teeth extended to meet in a center point. It let out a hollow howl that was a mix between a rasping cough and a primal scream of fury.

The figure rushed forward – not with their weapon outstretched – but rather slammed into Tristan with its enormous body. The smaller and lighter man went flying into the wall of a building, crashing through it as all the wind left his lungs and he tumbled end-over-end until he slammed into the far wall. Tristan sucked in a breath – or tried to, but could not. Gritting his teeth he shoved himself to his feet.

Another firebomb slammed down onto the skeletal behemoth, and Tristan used his moment of glancing up to fleet up the stairs. He was able to catch his breath finally and slung his maul as he clambered up a ladder to the roof. Getting the maul back out, he dashed to the ledge and peeked over at the figure, who met his gaze.

It raised its hand, and the green energy began to gather. Its mouth started to move, but Tristan jumped off the ledge and brought the maul down with all of his might, using the force of his fall to amplify his blow as he slammed the figure's skull. The bone cracked and the maul shattered the head into thousands of tiny pieces as the body collapsed.

Tristan felt a surge of power in his essence crucible, and he reverse-spun it as he knew, in the deepest part of his being, he had just consumed its essence crucible to empower his own.

Felicity flew down, "Good job! Nice hit!"

"I…I think…" Tristan put the head of the maul on the ground, leaned on the shaft, and sucked in breaths. "It's dead."

"Yeah, no duh." Felicity flew up to his shoulder, shrank down in size to the size of a raven, and landed on his pauldron. "Come on, get to the walls and hoist the head up high!"

Tristan nodded and slung the maul, staggering forward. But he stopped as he saw the corpse vanish entirely, leaving behind the dark armor and sword. "Felicity, mind gathering that? No clue what it is – but might be worth holding on to."

She flew over, opened her storage dimension, and shoved all of the gear inside. "Got it!"

Tristan turned to the outer wall and began making his way to, hopefully, stop a war in its tracks.

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