The sun beat down on Tristan’s back as he stomped across the soggy road. It had rained the night before and the entire region was soaked through. It made travel hellish, and all but the most stubborn traders would be waiting until the ground firmed up a bit. But not Tristan. This type of hard travel was what he had grown used to over the past decade.

  He trudged along the path, following the slight glimmer of sparkling starlight that extended from the lantern on his hip. The only guiding light to try and find the creature that had plagued his existence since he set off on his journey so long ago.

  Oh, he’d almost caught it a few times. But each time, it slipped away, or he had struck an illusion it created, or he had experienced terrible luck and slipped on some ungodly substance strewn upon the ground. The quest was to kill the thing, but even a shoddy student like Tristan knew that a fairy dragon could only be killed by trapping it within a cage of iron and then slaying it. One that he had strapped to his back.

  Some dragonslayer I’ve turned out to be, he thought. What would Dad think of this whole mess? Chasing the weakest of the dragon-kind for years and years? Bertram or Gisele would have killed it in their first encounter, I bet.

  Tristan paused as he felt the lantern on his hip vibrate. He began scanning the drowned farmland, searching for any sign of magical activity. There would always be a ‘glimmer’ of some type in the air to indicate the presence of magic, like a mirage in a desert. And while he had no magic of his own, Tristan’s armor gave him defense against such powers. Despite being the worst of the three suits of armor his father had left to his children, it still was good enough to repel the lowest rank 1 spell.

  The lantern began to pull away from his hip slightly, indicating a very strong presence of magic…and a direction. Despite being the youngest of the family’s heirs, and getting the crappiest equipment out of the lot, his mage-seeker lantern worked just like the rest of them. It might have had the smallest range of the lot, but it worked, nonetheless.

  Leaving the road, he began running across the field, tripping and falling a few times before hefting himself up out of the mud. He was not clumsy, and there was no good reason to fall. Fairy dragons were well-known for their trickery and practical jokes, and Tristan chalked his slipping up to that malevolent magic that had plagued him ever since he first encountered this creature.

  I’m so close! he thought as he drew the weakest of the Anorox family’s ancestral blades. It’s gotta be around here somewhere. His weapon, just like the armor, was the third of three possible ones he could have inherited. Bertram received Dragon Render as the eldest child entitled to the strongest of their father’s arms and armor. Gisele got Scale’s Bane. And Tristan…well, he got the nameless backup sword.

  The crops that were knee-height had become taller and taller the further away he was from the road. He could no longer see that muddy trail, and his eyes were glued, transfixed on the shining trail of glimmering starlight. The pull on the lantern was stronger than he had ever seen. Which meant that either the lantern had spontaneously grown in its dowsing powers - which Tristan had never heard of happening – or it was malfunctioning. Given his luck, it was probably the latter.

  He slowed his gait and walked more cautiously, zoning out as he focused solely on his hearing. He could hear the faint giggle of laughter somewhere in front of him. Too many crops to make a stealthy approach, he thought as he heard the crunch underfoot of a bit of corn that had seemingly fallen right in front of him. I could just rush it, but without vision that’s tricky.

  The lantern kept pulling, and he took a sharp breath. All or nothing! He charged forward through the tall grass, letting out a battle cry. To his surprise and shock, he entered a clearing that glowed with magical energy. The whole environment was warbling and warping from the power’s distortion.

  And in the center of the clearing was his prey. The fairy dragon he had been chasing all this time. It could be considered cute by some. A small, foxlike creature covered with armored scales that glimmered with the hues of the rainbow. Instead of ears, it had a pair of deer antlers that were a stark white color. Its wings were like that of a songbird; a crimson and blue that clashed with each other.

  “Well, look who found me, again,” the feminine voice said arrogantly. “Aren’t you tired of chasing dragons?”

  Tristan did not engage in banter as he had before. He had made that mistake on his first encounter with the creature, and that had cost him his chance to injure the creature. Instead, he charged forward and chopped down with his sword.

  “Hey, that is not nice!” the fairy dragon dashed sideways, dodging the blow. Tristan’s lantern was spinning wildly on the small chain it was attached to, and the device exploded with an enormous crack from the sheer amount of magical energy present in the ambient environment. The shards pinged off Tristan’s armor, but one of the bits of iron caught the fairy dragon in the wing. “Ouch!”

  Tristan took advantage of that opening and slashed with a horizontal swing, catching the creature and shearing clean through its wing. It let out a scream of pain as it fell to the ground. Tristan immediately sheathed the sword, loosened the cage from his back, letting it fall to the ground, and tackled the creature.

  “No! This is not fun anymore!” the fairy dragon shouted. “I’m going home!”

  “No you don’t!” Tristan shouted as he tried to wrestle the fairy dragon to the cage. “I’m going to kill you and go home!”

  The world began to glow a cerulean blue, and Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, still holding tight to the fairy dragon as he wrangled it. The creature tried to claw and bite at him but found no purchase against his armor. Tristan was able to haul it to the cage behind him and shoved the fairy dragon into it before slamming the door shut.

  I…I got it! Tristan began to draw his sword to deliver the final blow, but the entire world turned white around him.

  “Really? Regular iron? You idiot! You have to use enchanted iron! Did no one tell you that?”

  Damnit. Nothing in great-grandpa’s dragonslayer manual said anything about enchanted iron!

  The world vanished and Tristan was in a black void. Still on some type of solid surface, nothing else existed except for him, the cage, and the fairy dragon. “Nice going, jackass. You got us in between your home and my home!” The fairy dragon’s wing grew back, and with a burst of magical energy, the cage turned into a bunch of flowers that cascaded down.

  “How?” Tristan whispered.

  “Because you’re an idiot. Who wastes ten years of their life trying to kill a fairy dragon? Seriously! We don’t hurt anyone!”

  Tristan felt rage boil up in him, “I can’t go back until you’re dead!”

  The fairy dragon’s face shifted and showed a dour expression, “Well that’s a s-t-u-p-i-d, stupid rule. Did I emphasize how stupid that is?”

  “It’s because you stole the king’s scepter!”

  The fairy dragon giggled, “Oh, yeah. That was a fun prank!”

  Tristan growled and grabbed the thing, “I want to go home!”

  “So do I!”

  The world began to light up. Gradually shifting from black to grey, to a blinding white. “What’s happening?” Tristan asked.

  The fairy dragon replied with a giggle, “Yes! We’re going to the Fey Realm! Looks like my desire was stronger!”

  “Where?”

  The world returned around Tristan. But it was not his world. The cornfield was gone. He wasn’t in a small clearing. And the sky was not blue. It was a shifting display of multiple hues. Purple, green, the familiar blue, a deeper blue - and it changed colors in various places. “The Fey Realm, numb-nuts. Do you not even know where we come from? And you call yourself a dragon slayer.”

  Tristan looked down at the creature in his hands, “Take us back. Now.”

  “Nope!” The creature giggled and laughed. To Tristan’s shock, the flowers that were around him began to laugh along with the fairy dragon. “You can’t hurt me permanently without enchanted iron.”

  “But I can still hurt you,” Tristan replied as he pinned the creature to the purple grass beneath them and drew his weapon. He saw the fear in the creature’s eyes, “You’ve escaped me so many times.”

  “Hey, look pal,” the voice was panicked and talking like a charlatan and swindler would - all fast and confusing words. “I never would have elucidated upon where our destination was if not for the malicious intent that you hold in your mind. I can’t take you home. Fairy dragons can only travel to and from the Fey Realm once every century.”

  Tristan let out a scream of frustration and stabbed the blade down into the grass beside the fairy dragon. “Damnit!” he screamed. “I just want to go home!” He felt so angry and filled with sorrow. Ten years of my life…chasing this thing! I just…I want to go back. He wanted so badly to be a renowned hero of the kingdom…but instead he was a laughing stock.

  And that cut him more than any blade could.

  The fairy dragon’s voice was still fast-talking, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity. “Go home to what? You’re the youngest and least talented kid out of your whole family.”

  “How do you know th-”

  “Not to mention you got the crappy job of chasing down a fairy dragon! And all for what? Some stupid metal rod?” There was a glimmer of light next to the fairy, and the metal rod of the king fell to the ground next to them. “It’s just a hunk of steel! I thought it would have gems or something on it, but nooo.”

  Tristan kept the creature pinned by the neck but picked up the rod. Why the hell would the king be so pissed off at this being taken? It felt like a solid piece of metal. It had a bit of fancy scrollwork, but it didn’t thrum in his hand like a magical item would. “He sent me to kill you over this?”

  “That’s what I’m saying! He sounds like a real jerk.”

  “He is,” Tristan muttered. He put the scepter in a loop on his belt, then turned back to the fairy dragon. “We’re stuck here for the next hundred years?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Too bad you’re not an elf, otherwise you might survive that long.”

  “Half-elf,” Tristan said as he pulled his silver hair back just enough to show off the slightly elongated tips of his ears. “On my mother’s side.”

  “Oh! Then this is your ancestral homeland.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, elves are fey creatures from the Fey Realm. Well, initially. They moved to the Mortal Realm a few thousand years ago.” The fairy dragon giggled, “We used to be your best friends. But right now, you are not acting very friendly.”

  Tristan shook his head, “Why should I be? I started chasing you down when I was eighteen. Ten years of life, lost out because you kept giving me the slip!”

  “And it was a fun chase. Remember that time you cut off my tail and I barely got out of the window, and then you slipped on a bit of fruit rind of all things!” the fairy dragon giggled again, “That was hilarious!”

  Tristan felt the anger building up in him further and further, reaching a boiling point, and he resisted the temptation to squeeze down on this creature’s throat. “It was humiliating! Do you know what I was called?”

  “No, do tell.”

  “Knight of ill fortune.” He grit his teeth as he growled out the name, remembering the times he had been jeered traveling through towns on his seemingly fruitless quest. “Every time I tracked you down, every time I got close to you…you did something to screw it up! No one is that unlucky!”

  The fairy dragon had a confused look on its face, “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t remember the oil slick on the ground when I tracked you down to that smithy? Or the time my sword got caught in a fishing net hanging from the docks? Or the time that a housewife threw their nightsoil out on my head in that alley?!”

  “Oh yeah! Those were funny! But that wasn’t me, no sir.”

  “Liar!”

  “You can think that all you want.”

  Tristan kept his grip on the thing’s throat, yanking it up with him as he stood. He did not want to talk with this thing anymore. I need to find shelter, a source of food, and clean water.

  He had no clue how long his lifespan would be. Half-elves were a mystery in that regard. Sometimes they took after the human side, sometimes the elven side. But he was the only one in his family, so he had nothing to compare against. The downside of being the only child of his father’s second wife.

  “Where can I find water?”

  “We don’t have that here.”

  “Bullshit.” Tristan began walking towards a thin, blue line in the distance. “That’s obviously a river,” he said as he began to turn his feet and descend the hill they had arrived upon. To his surprise, he did not slip or slide at all. His feet felt sure in their steps.

  In fact, the air seemed…cleaner, as well. Crisper, and as he focused on it, he could smell the sweet scent of cinnamon-baked apples like what they would have around the feast days. He paused in his descent and closed his eyes, hearing some soft instrument that seemed to dance just at the edge of his range of hearing. Even the air seemed to have a taste to it; something sweet.

  “Oh, that is interesting. I was wondering if that would happen or not.” The fairy dragon’s voice pulled Tristan out of his short reverie. “You should find a mirror.”

  Tristan frowned, “And why should I do that?”

  “Well, normally people like to know when their body changes spontaneously.”

  Tristan felt panic, and drew his sword with his offhand, holding the blade up to his eye level. His normally brown eyes were a vibrant, glowing silver with luminescent, icy-blue irises. His ears had elongated past his hair just like his mother had. And his skin was more lustrous. “What in the hells happened to me?”

  “You’re a half-elf, like I said,” The fairy dragon stated. “Looks like the elf side is pretty strong compared to the human side. I’d argue its fully pushed out the human blood. But I’m not a doctor or anything like that!”

  Tristan sheathed his sword, “Fine, I’m more elf than human. That doesn’t change anything about this situation. I still need water, food, shelter - and figure out some way to keep you locked up until this century passes.”

  The fairy dragon wriggled in his grip before giving out an exasperated sigh, “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re in a place that no elf has visited since the last great exodus. Who cares about killing a fairy dragon for some stupid king’s quest?”

  Tristan’s curiosity was piqued, and even though he kept walking to the river, he very slightly loosened his grip. Great exodus? No one told me about that. I always thought that elves came from across the sea from a sunken continent – that’s what mom always told me. “When was that?”

  “Twelve-thousand years, give or take. No elf or half-elf has been here since!” The fairy dragon frowned slightly at that, “And when The Matriarch finds out about you getting in here, I’m going to be in big trouble!”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Why?”

  “The elves left because this realm was dying! Sucking up too much latent magical energy in the air. That’s why your elf traits came out so quickly after just a few minutes. The Otherworld is literally suffusing you with magical power. A bunch of it gathering over ten-thousand years, plus some millennia.”

  Tristan felt a weird mix of emotions. Distrust because this thing had tricked him before, he was sure. A sense of believing in the creature because he had seen the physical changes with his eyes in the reflection of the blade. And also, an unease at being in a foreign realm. But hidden under all of that was confidence. Something that felt like a rustling wind in his soul, scattering the leaves of his emotions about in a tumultuous tempest. What this fairy dragon was saying sounded right. Resonated with him on a deeper level.

  “All that unlucky stuff that kept happening to you? Might be because you were leaking magic into the environment without noticing.”

  “Then why didn’t my lantern respond to it?” Tristan asked.

  “Beats me. Maybe it got used to your magical essence leaking all the time and just learned to ignore it?”

  Tristan reached the bottom of the hill and found to his surprise and odd delight that the ground was slightly springy. He bounced off of it and let out a brief laugh at the weird sensation of becoming a little lighter for a moment. “What’s this?”

  “Jumpshrubs,” the fairy dragon replied. “Good for traveling fast. It grows in open spaces.” It sighed, “Look, I don’t like being manhandled now and again, but this ‘grab me around the neck’ thing is very uncomfortable. Mind letting me go?”

  Tristan looked down at the creature as he stopped his bounce-based travel across the plains, “You’re my only way to get back home in a century.”

  It groaned and wriggled, “Why are you so stubborn! I can help you! Take you to visit The Matriarch. She’d want you out of here as soon as possible, anyways! You’re going to suck up all the ambient magic otherwise.”

  Tristan eyed it suspiciously. It hasn’t lied to me yet as far as I know…but just to be sure. “Tell me how to get there, and if you’re telling the truth, I’ll let you go.”

  “Okay, good! Making progress. Oh, I never caught your name.”

  “Tristan Anorox.”

  “I’m Felicity Glimmerwing.”

  ---

  A few hours passed in relative silence. Tristan felt his stomach rumbling, and when he mentioned it, Felicity pointed out a series of what looked like berry bushes. Always cautious, Tristan fed one to her, gathered more, and waited thirty minutes. When no negative effects were evident, he tried one himself.

  And it was delicious. The tastiest food he had ever experienced. The sweetest type of strawberry mixed with the tartness of a raspberry. But it was meaty, like an apple.

  “It tastes so good because this is the food your ancestors ate. They were vegetarians.”

  Explains why meat never agreed with me, Tristan thought as he recalled many pain-filled nights after meals as his stomach rumbled and turned. Another reason why he was looked down upon by his siblings and the least favorite of his father’s children. Nobles ate meat, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible. It had resulted in him being even more ostracized than he was already. Especially on court days where he would be among the other children of nobility. “What else is special about elves in this place?”

  Felicity went into an hour-long filled explanation. Magic suffused the very essence of this realm, and therefore it was going into Tristan and infusing him down to his very soul. Since he was the only elf to visit in the past twelve millennia, he was getting a ton of this infused essence.

  “When you return home,” she explained, “Your magical essence, called mana, its capacity will rival the strongest of the most powerful mages. Heck, it might even let you rival those pesky gods that sometimes butt into this place. Until The Matriarch kicks them out.”

  “She’s like a god?”

  “Yeah! She’s amazing!”

  Felicity kept explaining that this same essence filling the whole of this realm was also augmenting his speed, strength, ability to think rapidly, and reaction time - improving every aspect of his body and mind. And enhancing his longevity as a side-effect. The way she put it; elves normally lived a thousand years. But given the amount of raw magic going into him while he was here? He would live for ten thousand years, easily. Maybe more.

  “That’s…a lot to take in,” Tristan replied. If she’s telling the truth…I’m going to live such a long life. He was only twenty-six years old, and most of that was spent learning how to fight dragons – partly book learning, partly using giant puppets that his grandfather had designed to train against the beasts.

  “Well, yeah. You’re the only thing here that can take in all that magic energy. The Matriarch has a limit, but you ‘natural’ races – you lot get to have an infinite capacity. Most people die before it gets too big, though.”

  “Why do you fairy dragons leave, anyways? And where’s…anything else? There are no other animals I’ve seen. Or bugs.” It’s been quiet except for us talking and my footfalls. Plus, the clattering of my gear.

  “It’s fun to get out and about. Living in a paradise can get boring, so traveling around in the Mortal Realm is like going on a vacation. Experiencing danger, possibly suffering injury? It’s exciting!”

  Seems foolish, Tristan thought. If I lived in paradise I’d never want to leave. “What about other animals and bugs?”

  “Only elves lived here with the fairy dragons. We were companions. And the strongest of us can shapeshift, becoming like your dragons in the Mortal Realm that originate from those Elemental Realms. Your ancestors used to ride us around.”

  The idea of flying on dragonback was something that had never occurred to Tristan because they were terrifying beasts. Monstrosities of sinew and claw, covered in scales that only the strongest magic or specially enchanted dragon-slaying weaponry could harm. But now that he thought about it, the image in his mind of flying around on a dragon, soaring through the skies…it filled him with exhilaration and longing.

  Which was quite strange, as he had trained his whole life to be a dragonslayer. Ever since he could hold a practice sword. The only times they weren’t training was when they were studying, sleeping, or at court. Always as a family, even though Tristan knew that he was not really family. Bertram and Gisele never really accepted him as their brother. And even his father was distant.

  He sighed and kept bouncing along the odd mushroom-covered ground. It was second nature.

  And that struck him as quite odd.

  ---

  They eventually got across the plains and to the river that Tristan had spotted from afar. Only, it was not a river with water. Some blue, viscous fluid filled it. “What’s that?”

  “It’s clearcool. Just take a sip.”

  Tristan once more thought better of blindly trusting Felicity, and dipped the creature’s head down, “You first.”

  “Sure!” she began extending a long tongue that transformed into a funnel before his eyes, and then loudly slurped up the liquid. “Ahh! Refreshing.”

  Tristan leaned down, cupped his hand, and scooped up some of the weird, jelly-like substance. Taking a slight lick of it, he felt a rush of energy, and his thirst was instantly quenched. It was cooling, like a subtle mint, and he gobbled it down.

  “Just trust me, alright? You can trust me just fine.”

  Tristan wiped his mouth, “Which direction?”

  “Follow the river.” She sighed, “Still planning on holding my neck this whole journey?”

  “Yeah. Until I talk to this matriarch.”

  ---

  Tristan began to see more of the flying fairy dragons in the skies above. They regarded him with curiosity, even flying by and chatting with Felicity, cracking jokes at her that her new friend was into ‘rough stuff’. The female fairy dragon responded with withering, witty remarks and repartee that made Tristan chuckle from how over-the-top the insults were.

  It was scathing, and even bordered on the edge of atrocious joking. He found himself giggling and laughing at some of the jokes, which in turn seemed to encourage more humorous statements from the various fairy dragons.

  A few hours passed, and the sky began to shift to warmer, darker tones of crimson and brown. “Night is falling,” Felicity stated. “Not that you need to sleep here. If you want to, though, the dreams are fantastic.”

  “How much farther?”

  “See that giant tree?”

  Tristan nodded and kept walking along the river. The whole time, he was asked questions by more fairy dragons of varying sizes. Anywhere from the size of a mouse to that of a large dog. Part of him wanted to answer everything they said, but another part said that they were dragons and should not be trusted. He ignored them and kept walking, and Felicity engaged in some banter with them as Tristan continued.

  Soon enough he reached the base of the tree. It was enormous, easily rising three hundred feet into the sky. There were knot holes all about, and the fairy dragons were congregating, laughing, making jokes, and using magic to create all manner of fantastic, artistic illusions. And he saw big fairy dragons. The size of horses. Dwarfing all of them, however, was one that looked just like Felicity; but it was the size of a small house.

  The creature eyed Tristan curiously and cracked a mischievous smile, “Felicity, what did you bring home?”

  “Half-elf.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “He was hunting me!”

  The enormous fairy dragon lowered her head, and Tristan instinctively went for his sword. She laughed, and her voice was deep and matronly, “Come now, you have no enchanted iron sword, there. It is made of substance meant to slay dragons from the Elemental Realms, not my realm. And half-elf? You look like a full one. Must have had the human side pushed out of the way for the superior blood of your true lineage.”

  “Can you get me home?” Tristan asked what he assumed was The Matriarch.

  “I’d be happy to if you would let my daughter go. But we also have items to discuss, child of the Fey Realm.”

  Tristan immediately let Felicity loose, and she flapped up to one of the branches overhead, immediately gabbing with other fairy dragons and sharing about her heroic experience of fighting off his assault. Tristan ignored her chatter. “There, I let her go.”

  The Matriarch raised her head slightly, “I smell something on you. Something…familiar. What is your family name?”

  “Anorox.”

  “Father’s side? Patriarchal society?”

  Tristan nodded. “Yes. The father’s name is passed down unless the mother’s family is really prominent.”

  The Matriarch harrumphed and her face shifted from one of mischief to a serious demeanor. “I assume that your mother did not come from prominence, then. Tell me your mother’s family name - before she took her husband’s.”

  “Oh. That one is Winterbloom.” The entire grove in front of the tree went silent. Every set of eyes stared at Tristan. “Did I say something wrong?”

  The Matriarch bowed her head, as did every single fairy dragon. “You do not know this,” she said solemnly, “But the Winterbloom are the elvish emperors of old who created our species from magic and the essence of this realm itself…technically, this realm is yours. You might be a distant, far-off relative of the bloodline…but we are your servants.”

  Tristan felt his heart skip a few beats and his breath caught in his lungs. “What?”

  “It is our honor to welcome you home.”

  “But…this isn’t my home. I came here so you could get me home.”

  The Matriarch raised her head slightly but kept it under Tristan’s head level. “You are welcome to come and go as you please.” She moved her enormous, clawed front leg that was the size of an ox cart, and there were several rings upon the claws. “Take one.”

  Tristan grabbed one of the rings and pulled it off. It shrunk in his palm down to his finger’s size, “What does it do?”

  “This is a Fey Court Ring. Pour your mana into it, and you will be able to open a portal here. It cannot be used more than once every twenty-four hours and takes an hour to activate.”

  “Thanks…why give me one?”

  Felicity groaned, “Are you not listening, dummy? You are literal royalty here! The only way you could command more respect is if you were a woman.”

  Tristan chuckled on the inside as The Matriarch whipped her head around and admonished Felicity, “We do not call his bloodline dummy, daughter.” Felicity deflated a bit and grumbled, and The Matriarch turned back to Tristan. “You come and go as you please. Your ancestral arms and armor are yours to take if you can unlock them.”

  “Come again? Unlock them?”

  “Come with me.” The Matriarch stood and went into the tree. Tristan followed her, sheathing his sword as he took off his gauntlet, slipped the ring onto his finger, and watched as it resized to fit him. He wriggled his hand back into the gauntlet.

  The interior of the tree was a cavernous, hollow space. She led him down a spiraling ramp that led under the roots and into caverns below. Whereas the trees above looked like they were designed for fairy dragons, down here the earthen walls and roots were formed and molded into pristine, high-quality tunnels.

  “This is where the elves of old used to reside. Well, the nobility, at least, lived here, at the Queen’s Wood. Come, we go to the vault.” She began leading the way, and commented as she walked. “Oh, and as for your blood being ‘weak’ – since stepping foot in this realm, and being infused by its essence that has been gathering for so long – you’re practically full-blooded. The only way someone could overrule you in this realm is if they were female, and older.”

  Tristan followed, marveling at the architecture and feeling right at home. Something about the walls, the very roots of the trees, spoke to him. Called out to him. “Felicity mentioned something about being able to use magic, mana, and mana cores. Can you fill me in a bit more on that? I never learned magecraft back home since dragons are so resistant to it.”

  “Learning magic is something that you will have to do on your own, developing your abilities and your own repertoire,” The Matriarch replied. “However, there are tomes and books locked behind seals here that you may access once your mana is plentiful enough. And that is where mana cores and mana capacity come into play. Tell me, have you ever engaged in monster slaying?”

  “Can’t say I have. Your…daughter would have been my first one.”

  “When a monster on the Mortal Realm, or an intruder from another realm - such as your Elemental Dragons - dies, then you harvest some of their mana capacity and add it to your own. Generally, the larger the body, the more mana capacity you obtain.”

  She swished her long, serpentine tail and let it tap him on the center of the chest, “That is where your mana core is, partially real, partially ethereal, next to your heart. It is strong, but that is because you are the first elf here in a long, long time. Think of yourself as a magnet for mana, and this entire world was iron filings.”

  “How do I use it?” Tristan asked, feeling excitement well up in him.

  “Again, you must practice, train, and learn from others,” The Matriarch replied. “Now, when you first use magic, you will experience some discomfort and pain as mana channels are carved into your body. Again, not really there, but not really gone - in the ethereal. The size of the mana channel increases as your mana core grows.”

  Felicity flew up from behind Tristan and landed on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly. “I just wanted to see you fail,” Felicity said, tauntingly.

  Tristan ignored her and just brushed her off her shoulder perch. The Matriarch led him to an enormous door made of stone; with swirls of a language he did not recognize. But as he focused, he saw the shapes reorganize themselves into letters he could read.

  The Queen’s Vault

  “How come I can read that weird, squiggly language? I only know how to read and speak Bhant’s Tongue.”

  “You’re an elf, dummy,” Felicity replied. “Elves know their language as well as they know their own body. You’ve been slipping into the Elvish Tongue here and there, occasionally.”

  “Place your hands upon the spiral and focus on pouring your mana into the structure. Envision a stream of water, or a current of air, flowing from your torso, down your arms, and into your hands.” The Matriarch stood aside.

  Tristan put his hands on the object and did as he was instructed. He felt a swirling tornado of energy in his chest, and it rocketed down his arms - carving enormous mana channels that made him grunt in pain. It felt like the worst scrape one could get from falling on hard cobblestones. He saw a surge of silvery light flow from his hands and into the spiral, filling it up slowly.

  But he grew tired. The spiral only filled halfway before he collapsed, exhausted. “Ah, shame. Your mana is not plentiful enough,” The Matriarch stated. “It just means you must return for your birthright at a later time.”

  “Haha!” Felicity laughed as she flew around Tristan’s head, and this earned a swift slap from The Matriarch, launching the smaller fairy dragon to the floor next to Tristan.

  “I told you, do not insult those of the royal blood.”

  “But mooooom! He’s cut off my wing!”

  The Matriarch growled, “You are lucky that is all he did to you, foolish child.” She reached a massive claw down, extending one of the fingers to help Tristan stand on shaky legs. “Lord Winterbloom. I apologize for my daughter’s behavior.”

  “It’s okay,” Tristan said in between shaky breaths as the ground felt solid under him once more. “How long does it take for mana to come back?”

  “For those with elf blood? Quickly. Faster if you rest. The other alter-realm races generally regain their mana much quicker.”

  “Speaking of that, my mom said that elves came from across the sea, from a sunken kingdom.”

  “I am not sure. The going-ons of the other realms is something beyond my knowledge. I only know a little about them, and the Mortal Realm, as portals occasionally open between them. Such as the one that Felicity used to bring herself – and accidentally, you – here.”

  Tristan nodded, “So…what do I do now? I failed my king’s quest since I didn’t bring back a fairy dragon.”

  “Do you need a corpse? We lost a few of our number this morning due to old age.”

  Tristan felt slightly disturbed by that willingness to just give up the dead, but he nodded nonetheless. “Yeah, then I can go home.”

  “This is your home, my liege,” The Matriarch replied. “Even though you are male, you are still of the royal bloodline. You may stay as long as you desire.”

  “But…I was raised as a dragonslayer. It’s what I am supposed to do.” Tristan felt that almost as strongly as he did the desire to see what was behind that vault door. Whatever it was that was promised to his bloodline. Maybe it’s a weapon to rival Bertram’s.

  “Then I have a proposal for your path to growth, my lord. I would advise you to return to your realm, complete this quest you speak of, and then set off on your own to defeat creatures to increase your mana capacity. In that way, you may have enough power to unlock this door and claim the items within. I am sure whatever lies within will be valuable in fighting the source of the Elemental Realms dragonkind.” She looked over at Felicity who was lifting herself, “And my daughter will be happy to accompany you to assist you in any way. She has an extradimensional storage space as all our kind do. And, despite her impertinence, she is a fount of knowledge when it comes to your lineage, your capabilities, and Mortal Realm lore.”

  Tristan glanced sideways at the fairy dragon who gave him an exasperated look. “I can come back here any time, right? With this ring?”

  “Correct.”

  Tristan nodded, “Then I like your advice. I want whatever is behind that door.” And if its super-powerful weapons and armor, then I can show up Betram and Gisele. Maybe even go into an Elemental Realm portal and fight one of the Arch Dragons!

  “It is your birthright,” The Matriarch replied. “Now, let’s get you a corpse.”

  ---

  Tristan was standing in front of the tree in a small, dirt circle surrounded by green and blue grass that waved gently in the breeze. He had a small, burlap sack with the corpse of an elderly fairy dragon inside it - which again, discomforted him slightly, but he wanted to complete this quest, regardless.

  Felicity was perched on his shoulder, grumbling slightly under her breath. She waved her front, right paw, and the burlap sack in Tristan’s hand vanished with a slight pop as reality distorted around it. “I can also turn invisible,” she muttered. “To everyone except for you.”

  “Remember,” The Matriarch stated, “You will return to the place you arrived and left from in either the Fey Realm or the Mortal Realm. Return when you think you have enough mana to open the vault.”

  Tristan nodded, “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  I’ll show them all. Turn in this corpse and return the king’s scepter, kill some monsters and dragons…And then I’m coming back here to reclaim my inheritance.

  “Thank you,” he said as he channeled mana down his arm, into his hand, and the ring upon it. He saw the world turn white around him.

  Written By: SerasStreams ()

  Writing Prompt: “You, a knight, was sent by the king to slay the dragon or never return home, but upon arrival you found it has moved away. This in fact has happened a few times and now it's been 10 years and the dragon is still ahead of you.”

  Themes: Faeries, Magic, World Hopping, High Fantasy