Tristan facilitated the new arrivals of non-Fey creatures in their vote, and they ultimately decided that Dorothy, the Sheepkin Tailor and one of the elders of those present, would be their advocate on the court.

Then he set to work. He already had a routine mapped out, and thanks to being able to reverse spin his essence crucible, he could eliminate his need for sleep whilst in the Fey Realm. As it was midday, he headed to the training field. The space was still set up with the exercise equipment – the large, wooden weights awaiting his use. Some of the new citizenry had begun to use the space, and a few acknowledged his arrival.

Tristan had already taken off his armor and begun to lift weights when Thallia came over to the clearing. She had, thankfully, put on some strandvine pants and a jerkin. "Well, our lord of the Realm is well endowed."

Tristan set down the weights and glanced over at her. "I was trained to kill dragons. You don't do that when you are weak." Heading over to another, slightly heavier set of weights, he set to lifting them up with his legs, feeling the muscles taught as he hoisted the load up above his head and began walking the trod-down grass ring along the exterior of the space.

Thallia walked next to him, "Have you slain many dragons?"

"Two," he replied, grunting slightly as he spoke from the exertion of his activity. "Fire dragon here, demon dragon in the Mortal Realm."

"Intriguing. Do you kill them for fun?"

"No," Tristan replied. "I get their power. If I drink their blood, I get resistance to spell types."

"I have never heard of such an Elf bloodline existing! Mighty magics must have been involved." Her voice was soothing, calming, but also laced with a sincere sense of curiosity.

Tristan set the weights down halfway around the track to take some deep recovery breaths. "Well…my grandfather made…the bloodline." He hiked his thumb at himself, "I'm…I was born…human dad…Winterbloom mother."

Thallia nodded and that charming expression darkened quickly, "So you are a half-breed Elf?"

Tristan shook his head, "I…I'm full Elf…now."

"Ah. The Fey Realm's ambient essence sorted that out." Her expression lightened once more and became charming and cheery, but that rapid shift of her demeanor echoed the warnings of The Matriarch from before. "So now for all intents and purposes, you are a Winterbloom…and I heard the last one?"

"That's right," Tristan replied as he hefted his load once more and continued his pacing around the field. "Winterbloom and other prominent bloodlines are being hunted down. Still trying to figure out why. Got a diviner who is working on it."

"That means we must get you into bed with an Elf immediately!"

Tristan looked at her with a dour expression, "Sorry?"

"If you were to perish then the bloodline would be gone forever. And if that happens…well, I mean…" she trailed off for a moment then shook her head, "It's just never happened before."

"The Fey Realm was getting along just fine without me," Tristan replied. They reached the starting point and Tristan set the weights down, sucking in air once more as he sat on a wood bench. Thallia sat next to him. "When I got here…it was…fine."

"I suppose we do not need a Winterbloom, but you are the only one that can make new Fey species."

"Come…again?"

She giggled, "I'm surprised The Matriarch did not tell you. Then let me." She crossed her legs and pointed at a few fairy dragons flying by, "Zeltana was the first Elf, a Winterbloom. She made fairy dragons. Then, she made the other Elves. Each courtier, each representative of the other Elven races were allowed to have the say over one new species. The Nymphs were designed by the Summerbalm, and made by Zeltana's mastery over this Realm. The same goes for the other species."

"I can…make life?"

"Not quite. Zeltana described it as "weaving a tapestry of what already exists." Her exact words." Thallia leaned back, placing her hands behind her as she stared up at the sky, also showing off her torso which Tristan rapidly looked away from once he realized what she was subtly trying to do. "The other species such as Gnomes were then designed by the council to fill certain roles. They are craftsmen of renown. Nymphs were the entertainment, fairy dragons were the servants, Unicorns the transport service, Spriggan the farmers…and more."

"Maybe we can look at making more species of Fey Realm creatures once I have unsealed the existing ones," Tristan replied. He stood up as The Matriarch came over dressed in training equipment. Behind her, a small troop of fairy dragons carried Tristan's gear.

Thallia stood up, "Ah, Big M. I was just informing Lord Tristan about his capacity to make new species."

The Matriarch raised a quizzical eyebrow, "I was intentionally slowly informing him of his various capabilities as to not overburden him. But…yes, that is something you could do, Lord Tristan." She gestured to the equipment carried by her children, "Are you ready to spar?"

Tristan turned to Thallia and dipped his head, "Thank you for informing me." He headed over to the fairy dragons and began armoring up. By the time he was done Thallia had left, and The Matriarch cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Ready for our session?"

Tristan hefted the Adamant Wood practice maul, "Ready."

The next several hours passed with practice bouts. They were high intensity, with Tristan focusing in one, short, three-minute burst on simply trying to survive The Matriarch's immense combat prowess. He did not want her to hold back, and was quite pleased to find that even with her fighting without reservation, he was able to keep up. Defensively only, though, as he was not strong enough to counterattack with the maul fast enough in between parries and deflections.

Switching to the sword he practiced spellweaving – blending essence-weaving with swordplay. He could not do that with the maul, and came to the rapid determination that he would need to rely on items of artifice to spellweave mid-combat if he was using the maul. The sword, however, being longer, lighter, and only requiring one hand meant that he could perform most spells mid-combat without losing efficacy.

He did not actually release the spells at The Matriarch – instead he vented the essence out and reverse-spun the crucible to recapture a portion of the spent energy. And so he was able to train not only his body, but also gradually cultivate further growth of his essence crucible. His practice over the past days with Obadai in how to rapidly speak in Dragon's Tongue had helped immensely, and he was able to quickly recite spell phrases.

With the sword, that was his primary focus – not his prowess with the blade itself, but using spells amidst the fray and frenzy of combat.

Once the sun began to set they stopped their training. The Matriarch went about her duties, and Tristan headed up to the top boughs to meditate and enter his inner world. There, he focused on smoothing out any bumps, and then practiced against constructs created in that space. His primary endeavors were on group combat; fighting multiple opponents at once, and his main takeaway was that he should use broad, sweeping strikes to keep them at bay, whilst using his spellweaving to dispatch foes in short bursts when he spotted openings.

One of the best discoveries that he had already learned of but solidified his understanding of was that he could split up the spell phrase and gesture in between strikes. It did not have to be done all-in-one-go. That alone caused him to reevaluate using the maul with spellweaving, instead of just planning on more artificed items. He had deduced correctly that the downside to relying on artificed items was that one was limited to only those stored spells.

But, he thought as he smoothed the walls of the crucible between phantasmal combat encounters, I should look into something well crafted and lightweight. Perhaps some type of shirt, with sewn-in goldwood plates? It would give me a modicum of defense, and I could have a ton of stored spells. I'll bring it up with Beatrice later.

As night drew onward, Felicity came by to tap him on the head until he came out of his meditative inner world. He thanked her, headed down to find Beatrice, and told her of his plan. "Well," she said, "I can get you some plates like that, and work with Dorothy to make a jerkin like you describe. I don't know if the plates will be fancy enough to count for what you need them to do."

"We won't know unless we try," Tristan replied. "Thank you." He headed towards the market and crafting area near the base of the Queen's Wood, waved at a few Nymphs who were lounging in their new pool in front of the enormous tree – surrounded by fairy dragons who were chatting with them - and he began going over the catalogued items for trade.

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Felicity hung by her tail like a bat from the tree-lattice overhead. "What's the plan?"

"Just checking to see what's been made," Tristan muttered in response. He began moving several of the items into the box designated to teleport items across Realms to Admiral Yokain's ship, when a thought hit him. "I am an idiot," he muttered.

"Not going to argue with that!" Felicity quipped with a giggle. "But why exactly in this instance?"

"I only need one of these pairs of boxes from the Mortal Realm to the Fey Realm. We can make another series of boxes that work on the Mortal Realm with Obadai's help. Then Admiral Yokain can distribute goods as necessary across the network of transport vessels."

"Oh, yeah. That would have been smart to come up with a while back. Too bad the other ship took off."

"I'll just contact them tomorrow morning. We'll have them dock at Yustat and wait for us – then we can hand off boxes like that." He slipped on the Gloves of the Growth Shaper and went over to an Adamant Wood tree, using the stored Plant Shaping spell to gently remove pieces that he then molded like clay into decent boxes. Not perfect, but serviceable and stable. Ten of them. "Since we aren't transporting items across Realms, Obadai should be able to artifice in two-way teleportation."

He loaded the big box up with various trade goods, placed the smaller boxes on top of the bigger box, and then turned to Felicity, "Storage thing, please."

She waved her paw-claw, the space next to her opened, and Tristan loaded in the goods while at the same time pulling out his grandfather's dragonslaying manual. "You can also have the Nymphs transport items from ship to ship if they're going to be out on the Mortal Realm working for you."

"True," Tristan replied. He held up the book, "But first, new spells. Tonight, Second Order dragonbane spells."

"So…boring reading?" Tristan nodded, and Felicity sighed, "Of course. What then?"

"At dawn I would do some artificing, but I think we will head out of the Fey Realm here early with whichever Nymphs want to come along. We'll introduce them to Admiral Yokain, get everyone on the same page, artifice the new boxes with Obadai…but while I'm doing that, you have been very patient and well behaved; so you can go out and cause hijinks."

Felicity grinned and flipped down from her perch, landing on the workbench near Tristan. "Perfect! Sounds like a plan."

Tristan ascended to the top boughs and began reading his grandfather's book. He had already placed feathers next to every spell as a placeholder. Thankfully, his grandfather had a very smart setup with his dragonslayer manual – the spells were all in the front half, while the back half was filled with draconic lore. Empty pages were there as well, to fill in more as he learned.

One of four such notebooks. Fawkes owned one, and Tristan had no clue where his father kept it. Bertram had one, and Gisele had one. Tristan never got his own, as his father did not deem the half-breed of the family worthy of the legacy. But the one Tristan had now was the original, which meant that it had everything that his grandfather did not want to be known by scribes and passed along to others.

It had the dragonbane spells. Tristan had seen his half-sibling's books and his father's – they had no spells within theirs. In the end, he thought, I truly am grandfather's heir, since I'm the only one with these…but I need to get these copied for Bertram.

His half-siblings both had essence crucibles, formed by an infusion of essence elixirs. For some reason, Fawkes never seemed able to form one within him. Still able to drink dragon blood, sure, but never spell-weaving. Tristan was not quite sure why, but he did know one thing – he was not going back to Bhant to take over the family legacy. Bertram would be given the black star representing his status as head of the household…and he deserved to have the dragonbane spells to pass on to his children. Those who would continue the Anorox line.

I'm a Winterbloom, Tristan thought as he flipped to the Second Order spells while seated on his cushion. And I'm the Lord of the Fey Realm. I'll always have my grandfather's blood in me, his lessons, and his teaching…but I'm not truly an Anorox anymore.

Dragon Roar (Second)

Spell Phrase: Flee from your death!

Spell Gesture: Taking one hand, ball it into a fist, and bring the heel of it and the wrapped up knuckles against your chest, pounding your torso.

Other Notes: This will cause fear in those who can hear you. Even if they don't understand the Standard Tongue. Only really good against those who are easily cowed, like conscripted soldiers…or goblins from the Elemental Realms. Won't work against dumb beasts who are angry at you; but can be used to scare them off if they haven't started to attack.

Imperious Challenge (Second)

Spell Phrase: Come at me!

Spell Gesture: Point at the target with your middle finger outstretched (instead of your index finger as you normally would), with the rest of the fingers curled into a fist. This can also be held upright towards them as if you are making an insulting gesture in Bhant (to really piss off the nobles).

Other Notes: This spell is a bit like an enchantment spell, in that it will compel the target to attack you. Really good for starting bar fights. It is not exactly like enchantment spells, because it is relatively easy to shake off. But, if the person already doesn't like you, or you're facing them across a battlefield? It is superb for getting them to focus on you.

Elemental Infusion (Second)

Spell Phrase: Feel the power I have claimed!

Spell Gesture: Run your non-dominant palm along the weapon you are holding. Then, focus on a specific type of elementalism you have claimed from a dragon using Drain Dragon. Your weapon will ignite with that elemental energy for a variety of effects. This version does not allow for multiple types of elements at once.

Other Notes: This lasts for about five minutes after first casting. And keep in mind the substance and element – you don't want to infuse a wooden bow with fire elementalism. Make sure the object can take it. Rocks are always a good option.

Wing Glide (Second)

Spell Phrase: I will glide on these mighty wings!

Spell Gesture: Brace your legs in a squat – as deep as you can get – and then leap up with all of your might.

Other Notes: This does not actually give you flight. It will let you glide. But the wings only stay manifested while using essence. Do not try to use this to abruptly stop a fall – you need to glide and swoop.

The last spell filled Tristan with a sense of giddiness, and he set the book down and ran over to the edge of the top boughs. Squatting down low, he spun his essence crucible, pushing the energy through his whole body. He glanced up at a fairy dragon in the sparse few branches above. "Hey, be ready to catch me if this doesn't work."

The fairy dragon looked down at him from its lazy perch, then nodded, and vanished from sight into the branches. A few moments later it came back with another seven, and the group flew around him. "We got you, boss."

Tristan grinned and jumped straight up, shouting, "I will glide on these mighty wings!" his essence rushed through and to his shoulders, and he began slowly drifting forward, over the edge of the top boughs, and gently glided towards the ground.

The fairy dragons flew around him, "They're all leathery and covered in scales!"

"And shimmering with silver."

"Oooh, trails of crimson, black, and blue? That's pretty."

"Not as pretty as my rainbow wings!"

"Oh, shut up Mary. We all have those wings."

"Up yours!"

The fairy dragons began to lob insults at each other, but Tristan did not care in the slightest. Glancing back, he saw the phantasmal, spectral wings extending from his shoulder blades. How do I move them? Is it by will alone, or do I need to move my shoulders? He faced the front and thought, down.

But nothing happened. Okay. What if I…roll my shoulders forward. He did so, and found to his dismay that he did not accelerate in speed, but rather slowed down as the wings went flatter. So maybe if I roll them back- and as he did so, he began a swift downward descent towards the ground. The movements of the muscles are reversed. That kind of makes sense, given a dragon's anatomy.

He knew well enough from his grandfather's manual and anatomical dissections of dragons that the wing muscles were connected to the shoulders, but they had a unique wing joint that was like a socket, and often because that set of overlying muscles was closely interlaid and woven together with the leg muscles, the musculature to flap was fairly counterintuitive. A dragon would effectively flex and unflex their shoulder joint, which would stimulate the wing joint to allow for minute movements.

His grandfather's designed spell seemed to follow similar principles. Tristan swooped down and then rolled his shoulders forward as he hit the bottom of his swoop, and he began a gentle, upward glide that accelerated quickly. Now for turning. I should just shift or lean my shoulders to one side. Left first. He relaxed his left shoulder, tensed his right, and took a sharp turn that sent him spinning in tight spirals. Okay not as relaxed! He tensed his left shoulder a bit, and the spiral did not become as tight. Reversing the muscle tension to the other shoulder, he drifted down in the opposite direction. And finally, he evened out and landed in front of the Queen's Wood.

As soon as his feet touched down the phantasmal dragon wings vanished, and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. One of the Nymphs in the pool nearby whistled at him, and when he turned to her, she winked. "That was graceful, Lord Tristan. I never saw an Elf fly like that before."

"It was a controlled fall, you dimwits!" Felicity shouted at the Nymphs as she landed on Tristan's head.

The Nymph made a pouty face, "Aww, you are such a cute, little fairy dragon, aren't you?" She said the last like she was beckoning a puppy towards a treat. "Who is a good little fairy dragon? You are!"

Felicity growled, "I'll rip your hair out you fishy witch!"

Tristan reached up and scratched her head between the antlers, "Calm down please." He headed into the Queen's Wood as the Nymph ladies continued to call after him.

Felicity puffed herself up as Tristan clambered up the central spiral of the tree. "Those sluts think they can get into your bed chamber just by being flattering? I'll show them! I'll shove starberry jam into their eyes!"

"What's going on with this hatred?" Tristan asked. "It's just in good humor, I'm sure."

"This is called being j-e-a-l-o-u-s," she replied. "I don't like them talking to you like you're some piece of meat that they can latch their claws into."

Tristan chuckled, "So you are jealous that they want to get into my bed chamber? That tells me quite a bit about what you want."

Felicity kept her mouth shut and made a frustrated noise.

Tristan spent the next few hours practicing the Second Order spells. They were easy to memorize, as they were all simple gestures and were spoken in the Standard Tongue. By the time the sun began to rise he considered himself adept at gliding and had memorized all of the Second Order spells.

As he waited in the circle before the Queen's Wood for the Nymphs that were going to travel to the Mortal Realm, he turned to his inner world and placed his hand on the tree within. "Okay, what's my essence capacity look like now?"

The spiral began to fill and slowly expanded until it was a few inches away from the Third Order circle's edge. I'm getting close, he thought. I can almost get into the third vault.

The Nymphs who were joining him had simple clothing of strandvine adorning them, just as Thallia had before. Felicity was on Tristan's head, making paw-claw biscuits. "We all ready?" Tristan asked. After hearing affirmatives from the Nymphs accompanying him, he poured essence into his ring and transported the group to the Mortal Realm.

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