The small, cramped crevice-like cove that Tristan had departed from was filled with Nymphs who were squished up against him and pushed past each other to head toward the ocean. Tristan went beet-red as he had bodies pressed up against him, and he kept his gaze firmly towards the sky.

Once they were all past him and had dove into the water, they swam a few feet away. Tristan addressed them, "Okay; the Tideskipper's Crest is the ship I'd like you to go and be near – out of sight under the waves for now. Yellow railing, purple hull, in the harbor over there," he pointed towards where the ship was moored in the cove. "I'll call out when we're ready to introduce you."

The Nymphs began making slight arguments regarding wanting to go explore, but Felicity barked at them – literally, barking like a dog until they quieted. Then, she spoke, "Your Lord ordered you to do something. Do you dare defy him?"

"No one said we wouldn't!" one of the Nymphs replied. "I was just hoping he would let us travel a bit-"

"Soon enough," Tristan replied. "You will be able to travel the Mortal Realm once more soon enough. As for returning – you can only return with me. If you tire of the Mortal Realm you may return with me once a year. During Shine Season, on the sixteenth to the twentieth, you will meet in Jewel's Point on the continent of Gvand. I will be there to meet with my trade captains and Admiral Yokain for those five days. If you want to return before then, you will have to coordinate with the ship's captains or the admiral to then contact me."

The Nymphs responded in the affirmative with excited voices, and one in particular spoke up among the rest. "I don't think we'll get tired anytime soon!"

"Good. I'll meet you at the ship in a short while."

"We could just carry you there!" one of them replied.

Tristan shrugged, "I'm not opposed to getting there faster. How do you want to do it?"

"Just jump in."

Tristan looked up at Felicity, "If you don't want to get wet, I suggest flying over to the ship."

She nodded, "Don't let them steal your pants!" and flew off of his head, heading to the cove.

Tristan looked at the Nymphs, "No stealing my clothes."

"We cannot disobey a Winterbloom," one of them replied. "Now jump in the water!"

Tristan took a few steps forward before jumping in. To his surprise, the water became a soft, jelly like surface under him that buoyed him on the surface. The Nymphs all vanished under the waves, and Tristan surfed forward along the surging water, keeping his balance despite the sudden movement as the waves curled up around his ankles and kept him firmly upright.

Racing across the top of the water, the breakers splitting before him, was thrilling. He let out a whoop of delight as the salty breeze blasted his face. The Nymphs around him splashed out of the water with enchanting laughs of delight, their lithe forms arcing gracefully and shifting between that of various sea creatures and their humanoid baseline.

Tristan spun his essence crucible, "Less popping out of the water. We're going to be seen." He touched his index finger and thumb together, then the ring finger to the same thumb, middle finger aloft, and pinky curled into the palm. As he spoke, he unfurled his fingers, and made a ring with his index finger and thumb, casting Minor Invisibility. "Verhoa minut hunnulla, joka maastouttaa minut. Estä ketään näkemästä minua, kun valo taittuu kehoni ympärillä" (Manifest a shroud around my form that will blend me into the surroundings. Prevent any from seeing me as light is bent around my body).

To any observer on the rocky coastline, the cliffs above, or the encircling arms protecting the cove, there was just a weird, rogue wave that was going across the waves. The Nymphs were still doing their jumping out of the water, but they shifted into bottlenose dolphins, arcing gracefully out of the water before dipping beneath the waves.

Tristan got to the side of the Tideskipper's Crest and pulled himself up onto the decks with some of the netting hung over the side. He dropped the spell, glanced over the rail of the ship, and waved to the Nymphs. "Thanks. I'll call out when we're ready to make introductions!" He turned to face the handful of crew members who looked at him curiously.

"Pardon…how'd you get to the ship?" one of the female crewmates asked.

"I walked on water," Tristan replied. "Where's the Admiral? We need to talk."

Tristan spent the next hour introducing Yokain to the different Nymphs, who each stated their name in turn. The Admiral and the crew were utterly gobsmacked. "I've heard of them from ancient sailor tales," Yokain whispered to Tristan as an aside. "But I never thought they were real!"

"Sealed away in the Fey Realm," Tristan replied. "When Obadai is back, we are going to set up the box transit system. This is how I think it will work…"

Tristan went over his plans in depth, and the Admiral agreed with the concept. Once that was established, Tristan activated the communication bangles from his ear cuff. "Captain Bitters; report."

The Vantir captain of the Destiny's Prize replied in a confident, enthusiastic tone. "Lord Tristan! We're on our way to Schlarz, and then will be at Yustat. Some of the crew chose to head back to their families after the whole piracy thing."

"Good. Stay at Yustat even after you hire an essence-weaver from the Citadel. I have another item to give you." Tristan continued, but directed his speech towards another target on the shared connection. "Obadai, I need you back on the ship. We have some artificing to do."

"We can head that way. Give us an hour," the Archon replied.

Obadai, Shandra, and a group of sailors arrived a short time later. After introducing the crew as a whole to the Nymphs, Tristan reiterated their role in his plans. They would help facilitate the trade ships, gather information in the Mortal Realm, and then report back to Admiral Yokain. "As long as you're on the ocean," one of them stated, "We can get to the ship."

Then, with Obadai's assistance, Tristan artificed the boxes. The spell Obadai used was called Teleport Object, "It will allow for sending of objects to designated locations. But those objects cannot be living things – so you could not send a rabbit, for example. Deceased creatures are fair game if you had, oh I don't know, a pelt to send."

Tristan nodded and turned to the Admiral, "I'll ensure that the Fey Realm supplies your vessel with goods, then you can allocate them to trade vessels." He went over to the edge of the boat, to some of the Nymphs who were chatting with the crew, singing to them, and spoke once he had their attention. "I am going to send one of you with a box to Captain Bitters. Can you find his ship?"

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"Describe it, and we can traverse through the same body of water to the vessel."

Tristan did so, and after tossing the box down, the Nymph who snagged it vanished beneath the waves.

The remainder of the boxes were left in Admiral Yokain's hands, and the man smiled at Tristan. "You seek to build a mighty trade empire."

"Not particularly," Tristan replied. "I have riches aplenty in the Fey Realm. What I need is people out here who are loyal, can help gather information, and are taking care of themselves."

"I can put the word out along the docks. See if we could get a few more captains to sign on to your burgeoning trade empire. But, we may have some problems with the Trimarchy in the Verdant Archipelago if we become too profitable and they begin to notice a downturn in their business."

"Then we do not meddle in their business," Tristan replied. "We have unique trade goods from the Fey Realm, we'll have the mead shipments next year, and soon enough a fleet of ships traveling the world."

Shandra interrupted, "But what's the point of all that? Why give a crap about the Mortal Realm when you have the Fey Realm that bends to your whims?"

Tristan frowned, "There are still assassins out here that need to pay for what they did to my mother, the people I cared for in Bhant, and all the Winterbloom who were slaughtered across the breadth of the world. I cannot search for these people while in the Fey Realm. But a trade fleet, gathering intelligence and feeding it back to me? That is more innocuous and could find information with more ease."

Obadai cleared his throat, "I have tried to divine the assassin's information but my queries were fruitless. They are extremely covert, organized, and have powerful essence-weavers at their disposal. We have no clue as to why they are eliminating powerful bloodlines – my own included. Tristan's plan is sound. Sailors sharing tall tales and scuttlebutt in the taverns of docks may hear things that we would not."

Artificing, planning out the details, and setting up Yokain's tasks took a few hours, and Tristan dismissed the Nymphs to go explore the Mortal Realm; but to check in with the admiral every week.

All save for one Nymph, who ferried Tristan back to the small cove he had ducked into along the coast to travel to the Fey Realm. After finding solid footing, and preparing for a morning rendezvous, Tristan activated his ring and returned to his domain.

Midday, he thought. Time for sparring practice. He began heading over towards the training field, but was stopped by Thallia who was, thankfully, still dressed. "How can I help you?" he asked as she came over with a determined look on her face.

She crossed her arms, "How many went with you?"

"Twenty," Tristan replied. "They're going to helping out my trade fleet, and checking in every year if not more often."

Thallia smiled and her demeanor shifted to a mischievous smile, "I don't see your fairy dragon companion. Feli-something."

"Felicity. She is staying in town to cause some mischief." Tristan kept walking to the practice field, and Thallia followed him.

"Right. Felicity. Is she your…ahem…chamber companion?"

"She sleeps in the same bed for comfort alone," Tristan replied. "I have dealt with much sorrow in a short time. Her presence is reassuring." There was no response, and glancing back, Tristan saw a pensive look on the Nymph's face. "Why ask?"

"Ah, I figured if she was gone then you would want someone else in your bed. But then I remembered your…routine," she said the last with disgust. "That is very non-Fey of you. Well, except for the gnomes."

Tristan smiled, "That's just how I am. Routine, practice-makes-perfect, master the basics before moving on – my grandfather taught me to be methodical."

"Sounds very human," she replied with a stronger amount of distaste.

"Deal with it," Tristan replied as he returned his focus to the training field. "I don't mean to be harsh, but that is how this situation will work." He glanced at her, "You don't have to follow a routine as far as I know. Not sure why you care."

"I have an equal stake in the well-being of the Fey Realm," Thallia replied. "And I don't want to see it changed too much."

"I won't push my routines onto anyone else. The exception is The Matriarch, and a more robust defense initiative."

Thallia blinked a few times, "Come again?"

"We need to be prepared for other Realm Incursions. If I was not here for the most recent one from the Elemental Realm of Fire, then The Matriarch would have died." This earned him a shocked expression from the woman. "Did she not tell you?" he followed up.

"No…I had no idea we almost lost the Realm. And if that had happened, then the seals would have expired…and we would have been trapped…" she nodded with a grim resolution writ across her visage, "I will begin to put together some regimen for my Nymphs. This is our Realm, and we won't let another one take it."

"In your own time," Tristan replied. "The Matriarch is working on getting more fairy dragons into fighting form." He watched the same figure fly down from above, shift into her elfanoid form, and go over to the training weapons.

"That is correct," The Matriarch stated as she hefted a one-handed sword and shield. "My children are training in both elfanoid and their usual form. They must perform two hours of training every day, at their own chosen pace."

"Seems smart," Thallia replied as she gave a slight nod to The Matriarch. "No schedule or routine, but a requirement. I will adopt a similar pattern." She looked back to Tristan and flashed a gorgeous smile that was captivating. "Enjoy the sparring, Lord Tristan."

Tristan turned to The Matriarch and activated his armor, lifting the training maul. "Let's start."

Hours passed and Tristan was sucking in deep lungfuls of air by the time he waved The Matriarch off. They put up their practice weapons, and Tristan was about to go to the center of the training field to meditate and go into his inner world when The Matriarch stopped him. "I have been thinking on this," she stated. "I believe you would be best served meditating elsewhere."

"Where did you have in mind?" Tristan asked as he stood up.

The Matriarch gestured to the Queen's Wood, "The base of the tree. The heart of the forest. Right next to the sap pool."

"Any particular reason?" he asked as he walked back towards the enormous plant.

She fell into step right behind him, "Yes. It is the heart of the Realm. I believe that it functions as a nexus for essence. It may be more effective for growing your crucible's capacity via inner world meditation and cultivation."

"Good enough for me."

Tristan entered the Queen's Wood and went down the slight spiral of the root-stairs into the depths below. He went around a few corners and found the base of the tree, where the root opened up and a hollow was present. The bubbling sap was almost roiling, and Tristan sat cross-legged next to it. This is where I laid her to rest, he thought as he vividly recalled visiting this site to put his mother there.

He closed his eyes and began spinning his essence crucible in the alternating directions opposite his breathing. Within moments he was inside of his inner world. The space was large, and he felt almost isolated, in a way. The sheer breadth of the expanse was testament to how far he had come so far with his development.

Heading to the tree at the center, he placed his hand on it. "Okay, show me where I am at."

The rings began to fill up with the flowing silver light…and reached the third ring.

"Third Order," he whispered. "That means I am at the upper end of a mage's capability. Once I hit Fourth Order, I'll be a sorcerer!" He felt ecstatic, knowing that he was far beyond his family now. None of them had been able to do Third Order spells. He would be the first Anorox- No, he thought as he chided himself and turned away from the tree. I'm not an Anorox anymore. I'm a Winterbloom. A Winterbloom dragonslayer.

He exited his inner world and headed to the vault. Going through the first chamber and into the second, he walked to the door with the three rings. Kneeling into the grooves, he placed his hands on the door, reverse-spun his crucible to ensure it was full…and then spun it to expel. The essence poured through his arms, down to his palms, and surged into the door.

He felt weaker as the spiral continued to slowly fill. Come on! He thought as he pushed as much essence forth as he could, his mind's eye seeing the faint shimmer of his essence crucible losing its luster and becoming dull. The silver hue filled more, and more, and slowed just before it reached the edge. One more push! He spun his crucible harder, and the essence barely reached the brim of the circle. "Yes!" he gasped, exhausted, as he collapsed forward.

The door slid up, and Tristan lay there, panting and not even able to reverse-spin his crucible to suck up essence to restore his vigor. He was just too, too tired, and his eyes shut as the world went dark.

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