Tristan angled his glide down to the ground a half-mile out from the city's walls and landed, skidding down the backside of a hill as he kept Eloise up and out of the dirt. As he came to a halt, he set her down. "Ready to talk to another Demon House?" he asked.

Eloise smiled and began to lead the way. "Hopefully I won't be imprisoned this time."

"I can break us out of anywhere!" Felicity said as she swished her tail back and forth, the tip tickling the back of Tristan's neck. "Oh, I should probably turn invisible." She vanished from all but Tristan's sight.

Eloise glanced back at Tristan. "Still have that letter from the merchant we met?"

He pulled it from his hip pouch and gave it to her. "What's our plan of approach here?"

"We go up, get in, spread word of the diseases going on, and then seek an audience with Philippe Tousles."

Tristan felt confidence as he walked along the road behind Eloise. He had an odd sense of optimism about the whole situation. He couldn't explain it, and for a brief moment he suspected some spell at work. He didn't feel anything physically. He reached a hand up and scratched Felicity's head right in between the antlers. "I've got a good feeling about this."

"Really? I feel a little creeped out by the giant city on a hill with a huge moat of purple water."

Tristan looked down to his left. But to his eyes, the water was crystal clear save a hint of blue. "Uhm . . . did you eat something weird? It's not purple."

"Huh . . . wait a second." Felicity dropped her invisibility. "Stop! Eloise, what color is the water?"

Eloise glanced down to the right. "Green. Covered in algae."

"What's that mean?" Tristan asked.

Felicity let out a snarling growl. "Illusion. A big one. Covering a huge area. That's why you feel good. It's gotta be a high Order spell to influence emotions. We're talking Eleventh Order or higher!"

"How do we break it?" Tristan asked.

"Sustained contact," Felicity replied. "Or, we can remove objects from the sphere of influence." She took off from Tristan's head, flew down to the water, scooped some up in paw-claws that shifted to little bucket-like shapes, and then flew back up. Her storage dimension opened, and as her paw-claws passed through the barrier between extradimensional space and real space, the liquid shifted and turned into a cool, crisp, deep blue; almost like it had been painted with pastel colors.

After seeing that, the feeling of calm and positivity faded. Tristan looked away from the storage dimension and saw the waters down at the base of the hill matching the deep blue, rolling green grass, the huge walls – but these walls were manned and armed with massive weapons of war. They were all pointed at Tristan and Eloise. He rapidly spun his crucible and activated Scales of Our Foe, Armor of Ice, Near Miss, and Lucky Instinct.

"Halt, traveler!" A female voice boomed from the walls. "State your name and purpose!"

Tristan shouted back in flawless Demon's Tongue. "I am Marius Lestrange, Demonkin mercenary. This is Eloise Serre, advisor from the Citadel of Essence in the Mortal Realm. My imp, Felicity, as well."

"Weirdest fucking imp I've ever seen."

Felicity landed atop his head and shouted back. "I'm just the prettiest one you've never seen!"

"What news from the outside?" The woman shouted from on high.

Eloise replied. "Disease has spread and destroyed the Alphinaud House. We come bearing news, and a letter of introduction!" She waved the letter back and forth.

There was silence, then after a few minutes of tense standoff, a reply. "Approach the gates. Hands up."

Tristan complied, Felicity did not instead keeping her paw-claws on his head, and Eloise followed along with the instructions. They were allowed to approach without issue, and the massive, wooden gate opened slightly as an armed group of demons came out to surround them. "Letter," the lead one growled. Eloise held it out, and the figure snatched it before hurrying inside. A few minutes passed, and the demon returned. "Follow me."

The city was a marvel of architectural achievement. Aside from the standard-appearing walls, every building within was unique and wholly customized, with facades and stylizations the likes of which Tristan had never seen before. He saw sloped roofs that were covered with tiles of cast obsidian, walls that were built at odd angles that cast shadows onto the ground that provided for covered porticos providing sheltered egress to the various buildings. Hundreds of workshops that were customized for all manner of trades, seemingly in a hodgepodge and completely disorganized setup. There were not neat intersections, but rather a winding central road that led through the whole city from gate to gate to central citadel with its inner walls. Other than alleys to allow for rapid access to other parts of the main road loop, the main road was the only path to take.

The whole environment made Tristan feel uncomfortable, as he did not like how disorderly it all seemed. Felicity on the other hand was thrilled. "This is what the Fey Realm should be like!" she said in Elvish excitedly.

"No fucking way," Tristan whispered back in kind. He then swapped to Demon's Tongue to speak to the man leading them. "Where is everyone?"

"Most are in their residences. When we saw foreigners on the horizon, alarms were sounded. We'll give them the all-clear once you have had your audience with Lord Tousles."

"What happened?" Eloise asked.

The Demon guard glanced back and sighed. "Just overt caution. We've not been on the best of terms with the Demon King. There's fear of retaliation for not paying taxes."

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Tristan had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, he knew how vital taxes were in a hierarchy like a kingdom. But on the other hand, Duberceix needed to have the least amount of resources possible, and lack of tax revenue would only help Tristan's efforts. "Well, we aren't part of Duberceix's forces," Tristan stated.

"That will be for his lordship to decide."

The rest of the walk was quiet and when they were escorted to the inner citadel, they asked Tristan to surrender his gear. Instead, he spun his crucible, activated Pocket Dimension II, and put everything away. This caused some suspicious glances between the guards, and one of them insisted on binding Tristan's hands as a precaution. He did not fight it, knowing that Felicity could free him in a pinch.

The central citadel of the Tousles family was absolutely covered in tapestries of all different levels of craftsmanship. A history of the entire Demon Realm in a splash of different colors and styles, all made with thread intricately woven to create a harmonious image.

Eloise nudged Tristan to continue following the guards instead of just taking in the artistry. He hustled to follow his escort, and they were led into a central chamber which was covered in all manner of arts and crafts stations. Each had their own sets of supplies that were immaculately maintained, save for what looked like an active project at an artists easel; a massive landscape oil painting. Immediately, the artist in Tristan began to critique the style and design.

The central throne, a very homey looking wooden seat raised on a platform, sat and watched them enter. A young male Demon by all appearances, easily eight feet tall with dark, purple eyes that glistened with barely hidden mirth. A shock of brown hair was tied back in a bun with a few messy strands eking their way free to dangle loosely along the side of the head.

Tristan bowed along with Eloise. "You must be Lord Tousles."

The Demon Lord stood up and bowed. "Philippe, please. I hate formalities." He looked at his guards and raised a curious eyebrow. "Ropes? Really? Are we so overtly cautious?"

"My lord, they broke the illusion."

"Gah." Philippe waved off the remark. "It's not that hard to dispel. Just unbind his hands." The Demon Lord sat back down and gestured for Tristan and Eloise to speak, as a demon guard came up and removed Tristan's bindings.

She did so. "Philippe, we come bearing news. Dire portents. Your close neighborhs, the Alphinaud, have suffered greatly. Their city lies in ruins, freshly cleansed, but in ruins nonetheless. I sent a letter I believe you received."

"Ah, yes." Philippe snapped his fingers, and a Demonkin servant woman ran up with a small slip of paper. "I thank you for your warning. Thankfully, we have not experienced any diseases, but our population has been fiercely vigilant." He inclined his head slightly. "Why did you go there, I wonder?"

Tristan spoke. "We seek allies to take down Duberceix."

This earned a hearty laugh and wide smile from Philippe. "Finally, some Demonkin with balls. Question, my guards mentioned that one of you was a mercenary and one worked for the Citadel of Essence." He pointed to Eloise, "I figure you are the essence-weaver."

"Marius here is a potent essence-weaver in his own right," Eloise stated. "But yes, I represent the Citadel of Essence. Not in this endeavor, however. I am . . . an independent agent. Duberceix's expansion early in his reign destroyed my family, and Marius here is allied with the a foreign ruler to seek the Demon King's downfall."

As Philippe looked to Tristan, he nodded. "It's true," Tristan said. "I am good friends with the last lord of the Fey Realm, Tristan Winterbloom. He is sponsoring an uprising, so to speak. I have on his behalf already aligned the Dalphatroux and Parslile Houses against Duberceix, and acquired pledges of loyalty from them in my endeavors for vengeance."

"What is that thing on your head?" Philippe asked, seemingly not having heard Tristan's whole spiel.

"I'm a fairy dragon, from the Fey Realm!" Felicity crowed out pridefully. "Lord Winterbloom sent me to keep an eye on this little devil." She made little paw-claw biscuits on Tristan's head. "He's trustworthy, for sure. But if you are interested in talking to my lord, I can go get him. A quick warning, he only speaks Elvish, so Marius will need to translate."

Philippe grinned. "Oh, that sounds fantastic. Yes, let me speak to him directly."

Felicity opened up her pocket dimension, slipped into it, shut it, and then opened it once more with an aperture only large enough for her head. But, it wasn't her head, it was Tristan's, and she spoke in Elvish in his usual tone. "Hi there. Pleasure to meet you."

Tristan translated from Elvish to Demon's Tongue.

Philippe grinned. "This is fascinating. Cross-realm discussions? That is truly a special, potent gift."

"It's just some tricky use of realmwalking courtesy of the Citadel of Essence," Felicity said as Tristan translated.

"I see. Well, color me interested. Duberceix has been a thorn in my side for years. We take in artisans and craftsmen of all types here in the Crescent Lakes, and that includes those who are from other heritages or mixed heritages. He has been . . . very much against Demonkin doing anything aside from being a second-class. I believe in a bit more equality. People should have value based upon their contributions to society, don't you agree?"

"Very much so," Felicity said through Tristan.

"I think we are of like mind then." Philippe stood. "I would shake your hand, but it does not look like you can do that. I assume Marius here has some sort of contract?"

"Pacts. He will provide it through my caretaker, the incredible Felicity Glimmerwing."

Tristan groaned internally as he translated her words. As he finished, Felicity closed the aperture, and then re-opened it, flying out in her fairy dragon form and landing on his hand, pact in hand. She gave it to him, and Tristan walked forward to the base of the dais. "This pact will swear you to his efforts to bring down the Demon King."

Philippe stood up, descended his dais, and grabbed it. He unfurled it, rapidly read it, and nodded. "I presume you are the executor of this through another pact with this Tristan Winterbloom?"

"That is correct."

Philippe rolled it up, and held the bottom half out for Tristan to grab. "Then let us begin." Tristan grabbed it, and spun his crucible as he poured the essence into the document. It glowed brightly then vanished. "Excellent."

Tristan dipped his head. "Thank you. I believe that, at this point, all possible parties to our planned uprising have been brought on board."

"Yes . . . shame about the Alphinaud. No way you'll get the Mericlau to turn on their liege lord. The Nouvax, likewise, are too well protected."

"I was meaning to ask," Felicity said in Demon's Tongue. "Lord Tristan as the ruler of the Fey Realm can just force his will on his subjects. Why doesn't Duberceix?"

Philippe's face screwed up in curiosity. "How interesting. I've never heard of a Realm Protector being able to do that."

Huh, Tristan thought. I guess that just means that Winterbloom as the first species in the Fey Realm have some intrinsic connection or control. Maybe . . . maybe Demons are not the first species in this realm? Only the original being and their bloodline can control it to the degree I can? The Matriarch doesn't have the same ability as I do; the others serve her will out of respect and my chain of hierarchy that is established. But they cannot go against my will. Well, seems like I got my answer.

"Now, you both must have had a rough few days of travel through the desert."

"Not particularly," Tristan replied. "I can do an approximation of flight. It was only a few days."

Eloise sighed slightly. "We would love some hospitality. A bath would do me wonders."

Philippe clapped his hands. "Excellent! You are my guests, and can stay here in the citadel. If either of you enjoy the arts, well, as you can see, I love being a patron of them."

Tristan wistfully looked at another artist easel. "I wouldn't mind doing some painting."

"After dinner. First, let's get you settled in rooms. Oh!" Philippe shouted to a guard, "Go and lift the lockdown. Back to business!"

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