Grand Saint Alloy

Vulcan walked Tristan through the creation of an essence core. It was much simpler than he had expected. Find something that he could fill with water. It did not need to be waterproof as he would be using a powdered essence construct and mixing it in said container. So Tristan decided to do something fun he took out the metal skull and ran a torch over its surface.

When he placed it in the snow it melted in. He retrieved the skull and let the snow freeze before repeating the action before he got the desired result. A frozen bowl of ice in the shape of a skull was left.

“Vulcan, give me some tier fifteen powder,“ Tristan sent over an image of Vulcan as a doting father giving Tristan some money.

Vulcan sighed, “You know, making skull shaped power cells out of deceased souls is not going to convince people that you’re not a necromancer.”

Tristan had not thought about it that way. He had just thought it would look good. Shrugging, Tristan realized that he had no idea how to utilize Vulcans essence store. The indentation was filled with powdered metal essence, it had a distinctly different mix of forces. Vulcan could utilize his essence on his own. That was a good thing to know, but it was also concerning. Tristan had assumed he was in the position of power here.

Keeping the unsettling thoughts to himself, Tristan placed the light elemental heart into the powder and stirred it with an ice sickle. The heart slowly dissolved like an ice cube in a warm drink. However, it turned from a pale white to a clear glass, the translucence spread out filling up the bowl Tristan had made.

Vulcan was kind enough to narrate the process, “A soul revenant is no longer connected to the primordial essence, so it needs to pull its abilities from the material realm. This means they will always lack access to a force, it also means they are susceptible to an overreaction when surrounded by foreign essence. The heart will push out any and all essence to get rid of the toxic essence. With no essence inside it any longer the soul lacks a purpose, so no will or drive to continue. It will settle into a solid at the average tier of any applied essence. It's a bit like mixing an equal base and acid.”

Tristan nodded, he was familiar with bases and acids, but he was not aware of how they reacted when mixed. He sat back on his heels and waited for the essence reservoir to coagulate. Gently he prodded the hole in his chest, it ached in an almost addictive way. Like a scab that hurt when it was picked, but was also so intriguing that it was difficult to stop. His fingers came away with a sheen of puss. It was a good thing, it meant while the infection could not travel through his bloodstream, his immune system could still fight it.

Leaning down he picked up the skull shaped reservoir. It was a very inconvenient shape, due to being the same size as the front half of a skull. The bottom mandible was missing, but still, it was unwieldy. Tristan wondered if Hadrid would mount it on a shield or a staff, the weapon would be the most powerful in the caldera. Well aside from Vulcan, though he was more a teacher than a club.

The trek back to Alchehall was fast. The guard simply nodded and let him pass. Tristan knocked on the castle door and to his surprise, Ruth was the one who answered. He had assumed Hadrid would not want to let anyone touch a soul core this powerful.

Ruth saw the confused expression on Tristan’s face and smirked, “You are not worth master's time, he is preparing for the core.”

She held out a box which Tristan quickly checked with his metal sense. The forces of alloy, growth, and infusion were visible. He cracked the box open to make sure and when it was confirmed, he passed the reservoir over. He relished the confused look on Ruth’s face before pulling the door closed and walking away.

Where to go. There were really only two options, he could hop in a boat and travel to the River Caldera or cross the lake and plead with the Lake Caldera. It would be better if he could have used the Stone Caldera, as he was on good terms with everyone there, but it was across the plains, he was not sure if he had that kind of time.

There was also the issue of bargaining. He had a bag full of books, a skull, and a few herbs to his name. The only way he could barter would be if he had some other kind of leverage. Elder River was someone he might have leverage with. Yes the man tried to kill him, and Kerri was a nasty piece of work, but if Eve had fled there, he would have a chance.

It was a lot to risk on a maybe. The deciding factor was the death of most of River’s stealth forces. Tristan’s chances of being spotted were dramatically lessened, and with the real civil protector gone his chances of escape in the event of a fight were higher. Still, it was just the less bad out of two bad options.

He moved down to the ferry between Alchehall and the other coastal calderas. No boats. Tristan stared blankly for a few minutes, was he going to have to walk to the River Caldera? He remembered a part of the river was shallow enough to fjord, but still what could have happened to scare off all the greedy boatmen?

He could see some movement from the other side of the lake, fishermen rowing out with hammers to break the ice that was too thin to step on and too thick to row through. Tristan sighed, it was time to walk then. If the ferrymen were out of business he would have to rely on his legs.

This trip was more miserable than the trip to Alchehall. Watching out for murder happy elementals had a way of taking his mind off how cold it was. He had gotten winter gear from Jones and Doil, as they had more clothes than bodies due to Regis’s entry. Still, it was cold, now that he knew that the Caldera was on top of a mountain, things started making a bit more sense. Well, it made sense after Vulcan pointed out that elevation was linked to a drop in temperature.

He claimed that beyond the clouds there was a place that was so cold and empty that even sound would be frozen. Tristan was skeptical about that as the sun was up in this cold empty place, and the sun was most certainly warm. At least during summer, it was.

Tristan would light a fire in the evenings and regret that he had not thought to bring more food. Sustaining himself on pine tea was not a pleasurable experience. Every night he would bury the ice chest in the snow, the last thing he wanted was for it to warm up and start sprouting tentacles or some other type of horror. He even had one nightmare where it ate him.

He shook his head to clear the memory, it was clear stress, fatigue, and a moderate fever were messing with his mind. The hardest part was crossing the river, none of his clothes were waterproof, but he soldiered on. He had worse things than hypothermia to worry about. The thought made him chuckle, maybe the hypothermia would balance out the fever.

Snow was falling and his clothes were frozen by the time he made it. If Tristan had the fortitude of a lower tier the trip would have been far more perilous. It only lent credence to Luke’s mindset, you’d either pay for power now or you would pay for lacking it later. The guard at the gate stopped Tristan, halt the toll is one copper parce.

Tristan gritted his teeth, half a day's wages was quite a steep cost for entry, “I am a warrior by the name of Sage with a message for Her Highness Eve and Elder River.”

Tristan fell to his knees as he pulled a minute amount of essence from his artifact alloy to activate the lamppost’s other feature. Pain lanced through his body as for a split second the image deactivated. It was enough for Tristan to cough up blood and a red spot to seep through the ice on his chest and his back.

The guard stared at the flame hovering over Tristan’s palm. Thankfully Vulcan was able to remotely control this as well, so coughing up blood did not do anything to the quality of the fire. After a few moments, the small flame flickered out.

“Please, I don’t know how long I have left,” Tristan knelt before the two armored men.

“Do we need to verify this?” One of the guards asked.

“I don’t think he will live that long,” The other man said, “Send a runner to River’s steward, I’ll take him there as fast as I can, the runner can stop me halfway if it's a problem.”

The man threw Tristan’s left arm over his shoulder and started hauling him into the city, “You are a heavy one aren’t you?”

Tristan gave the man an exhausted bloodstained grin, “There are a lot of perks at tier three, definitely give it a try if you get the chance.”

They limped their way towards the center of the caldera. Tristan did not have the presence of mind to look around, so the sound of footsteps was sounding all around him. There was no reason for him to focus on one in particular.

“Tristan? A high pitch voice yelled,” Tristan ignored it, for a few moments, then the sound entered the recognition side of his brain. Helen yelled, “What did you do to my baby boy.”

“Do you know her?” The guard said.

“Mom, ignore, message is too important, elemental lord fortifications,” Tristan wheezed.

The guard nodded, his face set in an expression of determination. Tristan was not sure what he was thinking, but something about the sacrifice being made. It was not too much of a sacrifice. Thankfully a few people in the crowd restrained Helen. The fact she was here did give Tristan hope that Eve made it. Eve was a higher tier and more than capable of handling herself.

They left the screams of his mother behind, only to be met by the runner. The runner did not stop to talk, instead, taking Tristan's other arm, “The elder and princess are occupied, the steward will take you.”

Tristan nodded, both disappointed and relieved. The journey would end soon. They entered a stone building, coming face to face with the steward. He was sitting behind a large desk with a large painting of a sunset from the ramparts hanging in a glass frame behind him. Tristan froze when he recognized the steward.

Kerri raised an eyebrow, “He looks awful,” he narrowed his eyes before recognition dawned, “I’ll take it from here return to your posts.”

The guards simply passed Tristan off to Kerri and marched out.