Tristan directed the volunteers that arrived. Well over a thousand of all different species – and even some permanent residents – arrived in full battle regalia at the field. Krik and Bertram arrived shortly after, and Felicity flew over and landed on Tristan’s head, making her little paw-claw biscuits.

  “So exciting!” Felicity said. “This is going to be so neat. An elite unit, striking at the big bad evil guy.”

  Tristan stepped forward and willed the ground to rise under him. A massive root emerged from the ground, carrying him aloft so that he was looking down upon the arrayed forces. “Thank you for coming here,” Tristan said. “The purpose of this gathering is to determine who is best qualified to assist me in my assault on Saumur, the Demon King’s capital, and his seat of power. I anticipate heavy fortifications and strong defenses. But, not an army, as those will be drawn out by Krik and our main volunteer army, and the uprisings that Thallia’s diplomatic corps is working on coordinating.”

  “First off, let’s get one thing clear. We will be fighting in a city. It is a uniform city.” Tristan waved his hands above him, and channeling the essence of the Fey Realm, he manifested a top-down view of the capital using an illusion. It was based upon his observations while on the ground, and flying over it, but he took some assumed creative liberty given his knowledge of the city’s layout and the orderliness that demons exhibited.

  “Before we begin with the planning, I need to tell you the broad strokes of my plan. With the power of the dryads, we will appear in the capital. I do not know where exactly, and thus we must be ready to move rapidly. I will be taking a small force with me to assault Duberceix in his citadel directly. The rest of you will be tracking down and dispatching every assassin – all members of The Venomous Rose. With that knowledge, those who wish to depart may do so.” He paused, and none of the volunteers moved away. “Excellent.” He looked out over the unicorns. “You will be acting as a rescue and healing force, rather than heavy cavalry.”

  Then, he turned to face the spriggan. “We will face off against fire elementalism. Have countermeasures in place – the nymphs and gnomes can artifice water elementalism to counter the blaze that you will doubtless be afflicted by. As for your role? You shall head to the walls, deal with whatever defenders are there, and then seal off the gates and sally-ports. None will be allowed to leave the city.”

  Then, he turned to the fairy dragons. “You will be the most valuable part of this strike force. You are able to change size, which is perfect for indoor combat. You can shapeshift and speak flawless Demon’s Tongue. You will be responsible for spreading throughout the capital and destroying the assassins. Root and stem. Hunting them down throughout the capital. Speak to The Matriarch and the gnomes, and we shall craft artificed divination items to allow you to locate the assassins. None of them live.” Tristan’s words carried a hard edge, and he felt the simmering rage underneath the surface, bubbling and hissing with vitriolic venom.

  “I will lead only the finest of our forces,” Tristan said. “Those who distinguish themselves here on this training field. A force of no more than ten of each species that wishes to go forth.”

  He almost jumped in surprise as the world next to him rippled and Willow emerged from a pink tear in reality that quickly sealed. “This one will accompany Lord Tristan’s squad to provide quick retreat. Other dryads will keep the portal.”

  Krik grew in size so that his head was at Tristan’s level on the raised root. “We will arrive, fortify, and then have forces to hold the rift in case we must retreat.”

  Felicity scratched her head. “So we have a small squad with Willow to get us out in case we have to flee if, say, Duberceix’s army comes to the capital?”

  “That is correct,” Willow replied.

  Felicity frowned. “And everyone else just has to run for the portal?”

  “Not quite,” Tristan said. “Willow’s dryads will accompany the unicorn units. They can rescue and retreat, returning our forces to the Fey Realm with ease.” He addressed the assembled fairy dragons. “Now, we need to determine who is most worthy to join my elite unit.”

  Felicity shouted out. “Fey Realm Strike Force!” She made happy little paw-claw biscuits on Tristan’s head. “We can even use FRSF as an acronym!”

  “Sure,” Tristan whispered, before raising his voice. “I will be testing your mettle.” He willed the root to descend, and the Fey Realm responded to his whims as the root went back down below the ground to be replaced with lush grass once more. “Bertram,” he said glancing back at his brother, speaking in the Standard Tongue. “You’re going to help me out with this.”

  Bertram grinned. “Happy to do so, brother.”

  Tristan’s evaluation took most of the next few days. Every spriggan and fairy dragon was put through a massive, multi-part tournament. Eventually, they had whittled down the competition to the top ten from both species, and Tristan sent them to the gnomes to be outfitted with smaller Dragonscale cloaks similar to his; but they were shorter, only going down to just below the shoulder blades for the fairy dragons, and acting more like a scarf to the massive spriggan. A visual denotation of their elevated position as the Fey Realm Strike Force. They were joined by dryads and nymphs who elected to accompany the group in supportive roles, and went through the same intensive evaluation. Only the best were permitted to join the FRSF.

  The unicorns that would be accompanying him were outfitted with artificed items holding Minor Invisibility, so that they could stay hidden behind the group and provide healing support from the rear as they ventured into Duberceix’s citadel proper.

  He had also special ordered unique armor for Felicity from the gnomes. A miniature set of his armor, with the same design, but thanks to her transmutation spell type, she was able to artifice a full-body shapeshifting spell; so that when she shifted her physical form, the armor would change appropriately.

  “Now that we have our group together,” Tristan said as he addressed his outfitted and arrayed FRSF, “We will practice.” He led them to a large part of the Springthaw Meadows, and using his control over the Fey Realm, manifested a perfect copy of the Blackspire; the rock and stone of the realm rising into the massive black fortification. He reasoned that the kingdom of Bhant being so inspired by the Demon Realm would doubtless emulate the center of power for their kingdom after the original spire in Saumur. “I want to see how you do, without me to guide you. I will be timing how long it takes to clear the entire fortress.” He produced small strips of strandvine that were colored bright green. “Let me plant these randomly throughout, first. There will be thirty in total.”

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  He entered the structure and went to all the various places he knew that the king of Bhant could be, reasoning that the rulers of that kingdom of his childhood would emulate the Demon Realm in all ways possible. Then, he emerged. To his slight amusement, Felicity was standing in front of the FRSF, looking like an exact duplicate of Tristan, but with her antlers jutting from her head, and her Dragonscale cloak was far smaller than his. “Okay, your time starts . . . now!”

  Felicity led the group in, and the unicorns turned invisible as they blew past Tristan. He stood there, arms crossed, and tapped out the seconds with his foot.

  Eloise was standing with Willow, as she would be going to the Demon Realm as part of Tristan’s group. “I have never been inside Saumur’s citadel. I am sorry I could not get a layout.”

  Tristan shrugged. “We make do with what we have.”

  “Why are you so confident that the kingdom matched Saumur’s citadel design?” Willow asked. “Didn’t this kingdom of Bhant hate all non-Humans?”

  Tristan nodded. “That’s true. But I learned while in the Demon Realm that the highest echelons of nobility had regular contact with the Demon Realm. I believe that the idea of Human purity is a means to create a permanent outcast group that can be blamed if something goes wrong – it is terrifyingly effective.” He sighed. “But ultimately, I am using my experience in the Blackspire and making an educated guess.”

  Eloise coughed slightly. “Ever thought about going back to Bhant and infiltrating using their rift?”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Tristan replied. “But that would require us going to Bhant, getting into the Blackspire, into its deepest depths, and then going through and being gods-knows where within Saumur. Too many variables.” He grimaced. “Plus, I might have to deal with my half-sister if I return to Bhant, and I am not ready for that confrontation.”

  “Why not kill her?” Eloise asked. “Didn’t she pin the crimes against your house on you?”

  “She did,” Tristan replied. “Which is why I’m not ready to confront her. She deserves punishment for that, but she has at least one child of the Anorox bloodline. That child is not guilty of their mother’s crimes against me. And, if I punished Gisele, that child might hold a grudge against me. I don’t want a dragonslayer as a foe. You have heard of or seen firsthand how rapidly a dragonslayer can grow in power.”

  “That’s fair,” Eloise replied.

  Willow spoke. “This one sees movement in the front entrance.”

  Tristan turned his attention back and saw that the FRSF were returning, with all thirty of the green strips of cloth intact. “Not bad. Only three minutes to clear the whole citadel . . . with no fighting; that will obviously be different, but we have no good way to practice that.” He took the strips from Felicity-as-him. “Now, we go again. We refine. We discuss how to best split our group. Come on. We practice.”

  Weeks passed as Tristan had his forces prepare, drill, and practice. Over and over they sparred, meditated and worked on their essence crucibles, and outfitted with artificed gear. He had to spend more time than he liked just using his control over the realm’s ambient essence to grow the various metal-bearing trees faster to replenish what was being used. But, by the end, he was sure that the entire Fey Realm military was the strongest possible.

  During the interim, The Coven’s leadership from The Witchwood cycled through their weekly stays. Thallia reported only positive news, and she believed that by the end of Dark Season, before the new year, they would be ready to fully integrate and swear an essence-bound oath to tie them to Tristan’s will, just as the species of the realm were bound.

  On the twenty-eighth of Dark Season, Tristan’s forces were fully equipped and assembled in the Springthaw Meadows. His elite strike force, the FRSF, was to his left, and Krik along with the other commanders of the Fey Realm’s forces were on his right. A group of five-hundred defenders would remain in the Fey Realm, while the bulk of its army would be venturing through a dryad-made rift to the Demon Realm, emerging in the north near Mericlau territory.

  Tristan stood atop the boulder that he had first used to release the seal on the region, and raised his sword aloft. Time to give a rousing speech, he thought. His grandfather had prepared him for such a speech in the days prior, having led small groups of armed forces in his duties of dragonslaying.

  “Inhabitants of the Fey Realm!” he shouted, his voice reverberating with the power of the realm. “You all volunteered to be here, and for that I am most grateful. We gather here to travel to the Demon Realm. Not as conquerors and warmongers, but saviors!” Cheers and shouts of exaltation followed his pause. His heart was thumping in his chest as adrenaline spiked through him, the tension and anxiety of speaking in front of thousands elevating his pounding pulse. He waited until they quieted before continuing. “We have our plan. Fairy dragon assassins have been dispatched to deal with Demon Lords and Ladies who were not receptive to our plans. Duberceix’s forces are spread out across his realm dealing with uprisings in the south, east, and west. You will be responsible for drawing the rest to you, and then we will do what the Fey do best – we fucking trick them!”

  This earned laughter and cheers of excitement. Everyone knew the plan; once Duberceix’s armies were on their way to fight the Fey Realm’s forces, they would hold the rift only long enough to pull the Demon King’s forces to the edge of the Demon Realm’s boundary. Then, they would seal it off – and if Duberceix tried to graft the realm and held the rift open, well, The Matriarch would be on the Fey Realm side of the rift, holding the breach with Krik and the bulk of the Fey Realm’s army. It was an underhanded play that no honorable force would ever go through with – and the massive invasion-feint would be the ultimate blindside maneuver for the real goal.

  Tristan spoke once more. “We fight to free the Demon Realm from a tyrant! We fight to avenge the death of my bloodline! We fight to preserve the future of our realm!” He lowered his sword, sheathed it, and turned to Willow. “Give the signal.”

  Willow nodded and she waved her hands briefly as flower petals danced through the air and flew off, carrying messages to her sisters on the far side of the Springthaw Meadows. They opened the massive rift to allow the army through, and Krik led the Fey Realm’s main army through. Immediately, they began setting up defenses as the tear in reality persisted.

  The Matriarch, in her full-sized dragon form and outfitted with an enormous suit of armor and the collar of regeneration, came over to Tristan. “Stay safe, Lord Tristan. May the Winter—sorry. May the Dragonbloom flower on this day.”

  Tristan bowed deeply. “Thank you, Matriarch. To your task.”

  She smirked. “Do not die. I have grown very accustomed to you being here and bossing us around.”

  Tristan cracked a smile. “I promise I’m coming back.” The Matriarch flapped her massive, armored wings and flew to the rift. Tristan then turned to his FRSF. A force a thousand strong, with his elite unit of fifty that would assault the citadel itself. Ten each of spriggan, unicorn, dryad, nymph, and fairy dragon, in trios consisting of one species apiece. The fastest means to clear and scout out the citadel in Saumur from their practice. “Now, sadly, we wait. When we receive the signal . . . we assault the capital.”

  And avenge my mother.