LLOTF - Chapter 50: Leaving Bhant behind

Tristan gripped his amulet, praying to the seven gods that the Archon would reach out and contact him. Throughout his midnight ride, he felt the tears streaming down his face and wept for his grandfather’s demise. Raging against the grief within him, he let out a shout that surely would have chilled those who heard it – a wail of grief and loss.

Felicity was sitting atop the horse next to and trailing just behind Tristan’s mount. She was quiet, but Tristan was acutely aware of her presence. But he did not want to talk. He just wanted to grieve. The man who raised him, who cared for him. Who called him his son and named Tristan heir…was gone for good. Taken far before his time.

Tristan felt the amulet vibrating, and gripped it tightly, “Yes. I’m here.”

“What happened?” Obadai Grimtome asked. “The short version. Go.”

“Hunted demonic dragon. Ambushed by Black Company. Killed them. Got to manor. Grandfather named me family heir and gave me the small, black star. Confronted fath- Fawkes. Fawkes admitted to sending mercenaries to kill me. We fought, grandfather died, I killed Fawkes.”

“That…shit, the counternarrative is already being put in place. Looks like Gisele was aligned with Fawkes’ plans, and the mercenaries reported to her. She already put her spin on the situation in the court’s eyes – you came home from the dragon hunt, delivered your grandfather’s corpse, slaughtered mercenaries your father hired to protect the manor, and then killed Fawkes. I can’t counter the narrative – and I’ve got my own problems.”

“I have his mark though, that has to count for something.”

“Doubtful. You’re already branded an exile. Penalty of death. The Damadan family used a lot of their political capital to pull that off overnight. Sorry, Tristan. You cannot return to Bhant.”

Tristan was silent for a moment before he remembered the time limit. “Grandfather charged me with finding my half-brother. If I’m banished, I’m going to find Bertram and pass on the star thing. He’s the only person who can inherit if I’m banished.”

“Condolences.”

“I’m…I’m okay with it,” Tristan whispered, lying to himself aloud. But the next words he spoke were as true as any he ever spoke. “I am a Winterbloom, and I’m the last one of my bloodline. I don’t know what comes next, but it starts with finding Bertram.”

“I’ll keep in touch. Every week, starting on the first, sixth, and onward. Our time run-” his voice was cut off.

Tristan pushed the emblem under his armor and kept riding on into the darkness, speaking just loud enough for Felicity to hear him over the clattering of hooves against the cobblestone road. He filled her in, and ended with, “We are going to the Sapphire Coast. We can go to the Pathfinders and see if they have any word of Bertram. If he is on another continent, we can charter passage.”

Felicity nodded, “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Tristan frowned, “I’ll cope eventually. For now, we ride until exhaustion and then head to the Fey Realm.”

---

As it grew to midday the horses came to a stop and whinnied. Tristan took the message and diverted off of the road to a small grouping of trees. The countryside was still farmland, but there were sparse expanses of forests around. He had been spinning his essence crucible the whole time and pushing the power into the ring, so as soon as he was within the trees and shrouded from sight of any observers, they transported to the Fey Realm.

A few fairy dragons flew over and Tristan instructed them to take care of the horses. He then looked to a third fairy dragon who awaited orders. “I…I need a shovel.”

“What for?”

“To bury the dead.”

---

Tristan stood behind the Queen’s Wood, in the same patch of land where the fairy dragons set their own to rest upon death. He had dug the hole himself, and Felicity had gently stripped down his grandfather’s body of the armor and other gear. Other fairy dragons had helped in the endeavor, before wrapping him in evapalm leaves to act as a funerary shroud. Tristan took the body and gently laid it to rest in the grave.

Clambering out, he set to burying his grandfather, tears streaming down his face as he did so. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he finished the last bit of dirt.

A group of fairy dragons, led by The Matriarch, came over. She was carrying a small sapling, and placed it at the head of the grave. “Lord Tristan, the Realm grieves along with you. Your grandfather was a fine man, judging from our interactions and how he raised you.”

“Thank you,” Tristan softly replied as he continued to weep over his grandfather’s grave. “Please…just leave me.”

The Matriarch departed along with all of the fairy dragons – except for Felicity. She shifted into her elfanoid form and knelt alongside Tristan, a step behind him. “I’m with you,” she whispered.

Tristan nodded and reached back for her hand, clasping it as he grieved.

---

Hours passed and Tristan finally left his grandfather’s grave. Returning to his chambers, he indulged in a bath and tried to drown away the thoughts of what had happened, but the vision of his grandfather being impaled raced through his mind. And that also triggered the thoughts of seeing his mother’s corpse, and all of the deaths he had witnessed at the hands of the assassins. He wrapped his arms around his torso and could not hold back his sorrow, his pain, his grief.

Once more, Felicity was right there, at his side, offering a comforting shoulder. He buried his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder, wrapping arms around her as he did not hold back the sorrow.

Once the tumultuous emotions had run dry, she guided him out of the tub and to the bed, tucking him in and shifting into her fairy dragon form before stealing a pillow and going to the base of the bed. “I…” Tristan whispered. “I wouldn’t mind a hug.”

Felicity nodded and reverted to her elfanoid form, moving up next to Tristan and wriggling under the covers as she hugged him from behind. “I’m here for you.”

---

Tristan woke up and their positions had been reversed – he was snuggling Felicity from behind, and he extricated himself from the bed before throwing on some clothes and making his way up the Queen’s Wood.

The Matriarch was standing at the top of the tree at the crafting area. “Ah, Lord Tristan; we are working on production of more clearcool potions. Several clay casks worth, so that you never run out.”

His grandfather’s gear was placed on various armor and weapon racks nearby, and Tristan quickly averted his gaze from them. He moved over to the edge of the platform and sat on it, dangling his legs over the edge as he stared out over the Fey Realm and the woodland paradise. “I’m going to be traveling,” he softly said. “Away from the kingdom I grew up in. The only place I’ve ever known.”

“The place that does not like you due to your nature,” The Matriarch said as she joined him on the edge of the platform.

“Yes,” Tristan replied. “I need to find my half-brother. Apparently, he didn’t just join the Pathfinder Company. He went because a Drakonid woman was somehow involved. Maybe an adventurer he was entranced by and chose to join up alongside to impress? Perhaps they were already involved and he left because it was circumstance? I just don’t know.” He sighed. “It’ll be the first time I’ve left the kingdom. And I’m nervous about it.”

“Wherever you go, you will always have the Fey Realm to reside in. Never forget that. If you so desired, you could stay here the rest of your days.”

Tristan smiled a wry smile, “I can’t do that. Bertram deserves to inherit the Anorox family name, estate, everything. He’s the rightful heir, since I’m banished.” Tristan grimaced and then frowned. “I am no Anorox. I killed my own father – mind you, he had it coming. Especially after killing grandfather.”

“Hurvun was a fine man. We will celebrate his memory whenever you feel the time is right.”

Tristan looked over at the regal woman with fairy dragon features, and saw just how similar she was to Felicity – albeit older with more angular cheeks, raised cheekbones, and larger antlers. “Thank you.”

“Plus, he was a drinking companion.”

Tristan chuckled, “The man did like his wine.” He stared out to the horizon. “After I find Bertram…I don’t know what comes next. But for all I know, he’s across the Mortal Realm in the Empire of Dorcelli. It’s a big place, and without being able to use divination spells, finding him will be a pain in the ass.”

The Matriarch nodded, “I wish I could help, but divining something beyond the Realm one is in is very essence-intensive.” She stood up.

Tristan looked up at her, “One more thing. Felicity told me a few times that she would be ‘here for me’. Was that on your orders, because you told her to accompany me?”

“Perhaps,” The Matriarch replied. “All of my children must obey me, just as they must obey you.”

“Then release her from that command. If she wants to keep coming with me to the Mortal Realm, that is fine by me. But I don’t want her bound to something she does not want to do.”

“As you wish.” The Matriarch left and descended the tree while Tristan remained looking out over the landscape, and recalling all of the good memories of him with his mother and grandfather. The time when he broke his arm during weapon practice with a then-teenage Bertram, and his mother bandaged the break while Hurvun spanked Bertram made Tristan chuckle.

Another memory came to his mind as he saw the fairy dragons flying in a small squadron off over the distant trees. A time when his grandfather snuck him up to the roof to watch the migratory birds who were leaving for the long winter. “Remember, Tristan,” his grandfather had said, “that if you ever feel the urge to travel – do it. There is nothing keeping you from pursuing that. Dragons emerge all over the world, and its our job to go hunt them no matter where they may be.”

Felicity cleared her throat, “May I sit?”

“Sure,” Tristan replied as she sat next to him, dangling her legs over the edge of the platform.

“The Matriarch released me from my duties, but I would like to keep accompanying, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Tristan replied. “And sorry about this morning.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, I, urm. I woke up cuddling against you.”

She smiled coyly, “Oh? That is fine. Like I said – I move a lot when I sleep. It’s not surprising that a strong, domineering persona like yours would unconsciously reign in my behavior.”

Tristan blushed and looked away, “This is…a weird situation. Because you’re a fairy dragon who can turn into an Elf-like figure-”

“Elfanoid.”

“Right. Forget I said anything.”

She crossed her legs and hummed a bit, “You’ve grown on me, Tristan. First you chased me and played tag for two years – which was fun, by the way, until you took a sword to my wing. But I forgive you for that. The past few weeks of travel have not been as mischief-filled as I would like…but they have been enjoyable.” She gently placed her hand on his and squeezed. “I would very much like to accompany you in the Mortal Realm. If you’ll have me.”

Tristan nodded as he watched the sun rise in the distance. “I accept. We’ll stay the day here, and tonight we celebrate my grandfather’s life and achievements.”

Felicity stood up and shifted into her fairy dragon form. “I’ll go tell the other fairy dragons we are going to party! They’ve been working on trying to ferment starberries into wine! Maybe some will be ready?” She did a small spin in the air and then dove over the edge of the platform.

Tristan went over to the study and plopped down as he read through his grandfather’s notebook. He wasn’t really studying the spells but was just reading the various journal and diary entries intertwined amongst the various spells. He did mark down where the spells were using spare fairy dragon feathers.

---

Night came, and Tristan was quite surprised at the size of the celebration put together inside the main chamber of the Queen’s Wood on the ground floor. Strings of glowing pods were strung along the interior created a vibrant color-filled display. The full band struck up several tunes, and many, many fairy dragons took on elfanoid forms and danced the various Elvish cultural dances that Tristan had been learning.

And wine flowed. The few fairy dragons who took up being vintners after learning about the possibilities of wine-making from the half-Broxtar that had taken refuge. They had been busy, and had a lot of low-alcohol level wines.

But starberries fell off trees as well, and some of their number had been collecting the rotten fruit and keeping it in large jars to ferment naturally. It produced a foul-smelling if potent liquid that kicked the party-fueled atmosphere into overdrive. The music began to shift into the equivalent of slurred-speech as the musicians got raucously drunk in between their songs.

Tristan excused himself as he left, holding a cup of the potent, foul-smelling brew. He walked to his grandfathers grave and poured the liquid out onto the roots of the small sapling planted at the head of the grave. “Love you, grandfather.” Setting the cup down, he returned to the party and once more joined in the festivities.

He was not normally a heavy drinker, but he decided to indulge and choke down the foul-smelling beverage. The night faded into a blur of dancing, music, and celebration. Just how grandfather would have wanted to be celebrated.

---

Tristan woke up, groggy the next morning. “Oh, my head,” he mumbled as he sat up. Moving to the edge of the bed, he got up and dunked himself in the pool trying to clear his fuzzy mind. The last thing I remember was dancing with Felicity. Then it’s all a blur.

Glancing over to the bed, he saw her curled up in her fairy dragon form at the foot of the bed on one of the pillows. Oh thank the gods I didn’t do something stupid while drunk like I’ve heard happening in the taverns. He submerged into the pool and came up, feeling the fuzz dull just a little bit.

Getting out and drying himself off, Felicity slowly blinked herself awake. “Oh, last night I got drunk.”

Tristan nodded, “Ready to get back out there?”

“Mmm…not yet. Mind us leaving midday?”

Tristan shrugged, “Sure.”

---

A few hours later Tristan was fully equipped and outfitted with his armor and weapons. He had a hundred vials of clearcool elixir, freshly made up that morning with his imbuement spell, and in Felicity’s storage. The horses were well-rested and had shining coats from their excellent grooming.

The Matriarch walked over in her elfanoid form, “Safe travels, Lord Tristan. And Felicity? Thank you for electing to travel with him.”

She smirked, “I don’t trust any of these other assholes with the job.”

The surrounding fairy dragons lobbed insults at her, and she just grinned and took the offense-filled verbal assault with a smug look of satisfaction. She began making claw-biscuits on Tristans’ head.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Tristan said. “I’ve got an idea for a new routine.” This earned a collective groan from the surrounding fairy dragons. Tristan just chuckled in response, spun his essence crucible, and pushed it into the ring as he vanished in a flash of white light.

He walked the horses out of the clearing and re-mounted the first horse that he elected to name Onyx. He elected to name the other one Midnight, and both horses seemed amicable to the naming as they both nudged him softly. Tristan began riding south for the Sapphire Coast.

Glancing back, he took in the sight of the vast farmlands of the kingdom’s heartlands. “Goodbye,” he whispered as he turned back to look forward. I’m not going back there. I have a whole world to explore. And grandfather was right – there are dragons all over the Mortal Realm!

He grinned with joy as he whispered to Onyx, “Come on, boy. Let’s go!”

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Thus concludes Book 1! This has been a blast to write. The first chapter came out November 12th. That's 131,000 words in 38 days.

Book 2 will start whenever I damn well feel like it. But honestly, when I get back from Christmas, I will most likely keep cranking out chapters as I build up the DMA backlog.

I'm going to start planning a Royal Road release as well. Maybe February or March? I might wait until Ruinous Return is out on Amazon first.

I hope you enjoy the story so far. Anything that you want to add comment-wise or feedback-wise, please come on over to the Discord server linked HERE.

Tristan's story has a long way to go. He only just hit Essence Crucible capability to do Second Order spells, and Tenth is just where the 'non-heritage locked' spell progression ends. And from here on out, it takes a LOT longer to unlock enough Essence Capacity to cast Order 3 and higher spells outright.

All right. I'm going to say goodbye here before I keep rambling.

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