Vaati's fourth and (hopefully) final form is the most resilient yet. Where the previous floating orb-with-an-eye could be pushed around by the detonation of one of Akasha's arrows, even with its protective aura up, this one - which almost appears to be MADE of that dark, seething power - tanks the explosions with no more than a momentary flinch each time.
It retaliates by swinging one long arm at Akasha and her clones, and as they dodge that, it follows up with another blast of crackling plasma from its horns. This time, the attack has a limited homing function, and if Akasha were limited to the area of the stage, she or one of her duplicate selves might have run out of room to evade it.
But as they all have wings, they have a great deal more room to maneuver.
One warrior-woman leaps off the right-hand, "western" side of the battlefield, wings beating at the peak of her jump to turn it into a true takeoff.
Another lets herself fall back over the "south" edge, disappearing "beneath" the floating mass of carved stone for a few seconds before soaring back into view, already a considerable distance away.
The third backs up to the "east" edge, beating her wings against the seemingly-infinite void as an air-brake.
That leaves the fourth Akasha plenty of room to move around, even with the space Vaati takes up.
The Wind Mage's monstrous form regards the four vampires with a cyclopean squint, then raises its right arm, plunges the gleaming three-pronged claw straight downwards-
!
-through a portal of swirling darkness that appears from out of nowhere-
!
-and then out of the opposite end of the portal, which appeared in mid-air right behind the westernmost clone!
*CRUNCH*
The claws snap shut around that surprised Akasha, sundering her bow in the process. Before she can bring her strength to bear against the demon's grasp, power crackles across Vaati's horned crest, shoots down his right arm and through the portal to the golden bracer wrapped about its wrist, and then from there to the claws.
The whole sequence takes no more than a second, and the grappled vampire's body gives one violent spasm as the energy surges through her.
Then Vaati pulls his arm out of the portal, yanking the dazed Akasha through it backwards.
You are honestly relieved to see the Goddesses' censor make another appearance before Akasha is dragged into the hole in space. Your experience with spatial gateways of this sort is mostly limited to the Spell of the Dimension Door, but that alone is enough for you to wince at the thought of anyone making such a rough passage through a similar construct. Depending on how the spell that creates it is set up, the edges of such a portal can be as intangible as the air around them, more solid than the hardest stone, or just a chaotic swirl of clashing forces, inimical to the continued integrity of any matter or energy that touches them.
There's more than one reason why people build these things into stone triliths and ring-shaped gateways.
Seeing as how there are no sudden gouts of blood or severed limbs falling away into empty space when Akasha hits the portal, you figure that Vaati's portal isn't one of the "sharp" ones. That tallies with his willingness to stick his arm through the thing at high speed.
That said, the way the clone's limbs hang awkwardly from her captor's claw when she reappears on the other side of the portal tell you that it wasn't one of the harmless ones, either.
"Oh, yes," Madam Lanora says with a wince. "Those are definitely broken."
"Good thing she heals fast, right?" Koron offers brightly.
"Not really," Vert demurs.
"Eh? Why not?"
"Being made of meat has its drawbacks, partner." The fairy pauses, flinching in mid-air as Vaati starts swinging his captive at her counterparts and into the stone floor, giving the censor even more work. "One of them is that broken bones need to be lined up just right, or they'll heal crooked."
Koron is considering that when there's a MASSIVE explosion from the center of the Ring.
Trailing smoke, Vaati reels to one side as his right arm falls free from his body and clatters across the stage, blown free by the SELF-DESTRUCT of Akasha's trapped clone. Though the severed limb is wreathed in smoke, scorched about the palm and fingers, and seems smaller than a moment ago, there's no blood or other... messy bits... anywhere on it.
"The old exploding clone trick, huh?" Uncle Hayashi muses. "Haven't seen that one in a while."
*BA-BOOM*
"Haven't seen it used to this level before, either," the eight-tailed fox adds, as Vaati's left arm is blown off by another suiciding clone. Turning to Issa, he asks in an almost conversational tone, "Does she do this often, or only on special occasions?"
"This would be a first by me," Issa admits. His attention is on Akasha, and for only the second time in her Trials, he looks concerned. The other time was when Akasha faced Zelda's Light Arrows, and this seems different, somehow.
Dismemberment doesn't seem to be much more of an issue for Vaati than it would be for Akasha herself. Once the shock of being blown off the body has passed, each arm begins to move on its own, and while they don't regenerate into whole new bodies, they prove dangerous enough on their own. Some of their essence passes down the length of each arm, settling about the severed ends of each limb and spreading out in a dark pool that resembles the portal Vaati used to seize Akasha's clone. Rather than swallowing the arms, however, these pools or distortions or whatever they are instead anchor the limbs in place, allowing them to "stand" under their own power.
For a moment, each arm resembles a miniature tower, claws pressed shut into a shape like a minnaret, while the "wristbands" slip down the length of the thinned limbs until they hit the shadow-stained floor, looking almost like the foundations from which the rest rises.
Then the claws snap open, and the arms reach for their nearest enemies, to catch only air.
That, and return fire.
*BA-BOOM*
*BA-BOOM*
*BA-BOOM*
*BA-BOOM*
Cut off from direct access to Vaati's power, the arms prove vulnerable to Akasha's explosive arrows. This is a relative term, though, as the first arm alone absorbs the kind of punishment it took to destroy Vaati's previous form, and is still there in the aftermath. Battered and rent, but there.
Down to herself and one clone as she is, Akasha is unable to destroy the right arm before it and its counterpart sink into their foundations and disappear, re-emerging from Vaati's body a moment later, seemingly restored to full strength.
The censor screen flashes into existence again, and when the normal view of the battle comes back, there are half a dozen more Akashas running or flying around than there were seconds earlier.
*BOOOOM!*
And now there's one less of her, and Vaati is down an arm again.
*KA-BA-BOOM-BA!*
*KA-BA-BOOM-BA!*
*KA-BA-BOOM-BA!*
*KA-BA-BOOM-BA!*
Make that, "down an arm permanently." Seven Dark Lords firing explosive Blood Arrows is a LOT of firepower to focus on a single target, so much so that Akasha has managed to blow a hole through - not just into, but THROUGH - the stone stage.
When his second limb is destroyed moments later, Vaati once again roars in frustrated anger - still with no sign of anything like a mouth, you note - and surges with power. Six positively tiny bat wings emerge from different points along his spherical body, and the four small spheres that have been hovering beneath him all this time without moving finally open.
The sight of another row of staring eyes comes as no shock to anybody, nor does the way in which they start barrage-firing energy blasts at Akasha's one-woman attack squad, while Vaati's main body spreads ball lightning in every direction.
Things are getting crowded enough and fast enough at this point that a few of the clones do get hit by those attacks. One's more grazed than directly hit, but still loses her left arm past the elbow and a circular chunk of her wings on that side. A second clone is hit dead center, and falls out of sight as little more than a collection of limbs with a censor imposed over the middle - something that may come back to haunt Vaati in about half a minute - while the third clone is holed in three separate places by the volley-fired eye-lasers. The last of those is her head, and the instant that beam connects, the entire clone gets blotted out by another censor.
When the image of the Triforce and the mini-Goddesses disappears, there's nothing left of that particular Akasha.
It would appear that headshots can "kill" Akasha's clones, as long as they have the power of another Dark Lord-tier enemy behind them.
As Vaati is disabling those three clones, however, the real Akasha and her three undamaged duplicates have taken aim at his secondary eyes. Recalling the lesson of the previous form, they time their shots to land simultaneously.
*KA-BA-BOOM-BA!*
The lesson holds, and Vaati's main body once again falls out of the air, dazed and vulnerable.
Five flying vampires - one having just regrown her arm and wings - let loose every arrow they can, unleashing a dazzling and deafening bombardment.
When the noise ends and the glare clears, Vaati is nowhere to be seen.
Neither is most of the stage.
There's literally nothing left except a flight of armored vampire archers, a lump of rock about four feet across at its widest, and laying on the "top" of that floating stone, Vaati's hat - which has something struggling inside it.
Something tiny.
"NOW what?" Tatsuki groans.
One of the Akashas flies over to the rock, lands neatly, and kneels down to lift up the hat.
This reveals a roughly humanoid figure about the size of a mouse, with features to match. Its fur is the same shade of pale violet-grey that Vaati's hair was, it wears a little purple smock, and its body language echoes the sorcerer, radiating defiant pride even as it stares up - and up, and UP - at the much larger vampire.
PICORI VAATI
"Awww!" The squeal comes from a most unexpected direction, and you turn to find Kagome clasping her hands together beside a delighted smile, as her eyes sparkle with pure delight. "He's adorable!"
"I am not adorable!" the mouse-fairy-person squeaks in protest, perfectly audible despite his puny proportions. "I am not cute, or precious, or charming! I am the mighty Vaati, Master of the Winds and Scourge of Hyrule!"
Gained Picori F (Plus) (Plus)
Isshin starts laughing. "What's he going to do? Bite her toes?"
Vaati turns and GLARES in the man's direction, trembling with squeaky, barely-suppressed fury.
The display of inter-planar awareness should be alarming.
It's not.
It's really, really not.
Particularly when Akasha plucks the little... person... off the floor and holds him up to face her.
"Are you seriously going to try to keep fighting?" she asks the tiny figure standing atop her upturned right palm.
Vaati regards for a moment, then huffs. "...no."
Okay, who's left? We need somebody tough, or she's just going to blast through them, too.
Akasha smiles.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
And then she raises her left hand and runs a finger over Vaati's head, stroking his fur.
I enjoy a good round of Blow Up the Bad Guy as much as anyone, Firecracker, but we're not just testing raw firepower here.
"Q-quit that, woman! Fiend! Demon! I am not for cuddling!"
Alright, alright.
It is with the squeaky, half-hearted protests of the Wind Mage ringing in your ears that Akasha's Sixth Trial concludes.
Let's give this a try.
Once again having lost or re-absorbed her clones, Akasha now stands near the bottom of a deep pit, one whose rough, spiralling shape suggests that it was carved out by intelligent design rather than the forces of nature. High above, at the very top of the ever-widening path of bare stone and loose soil that leads to the rim of the gaping hole, there stands a temple of Hylian design - though with particular aesthetics you don't recall seeing depicted in your books, or experiencing in any of the temples, shrines, and ruins that have appeared in your dreams over the years.
Wow, Sis. Going old-school with this, or what?
It looks... older than those.
Gained Architecture D (Plus)
At the very bottom of the pit is a patch of dark, strangely dead-looking soil. Near the center of this blight stands a three-sided pillar of white stone, about shoulder-high to a Hylian. Its edges are curved and slightly spiky, while each face is covered by religious iconography, including one of the Marks of the Goddesses: facing Akasha is the roiling, three-layered, smoke-like Crest of Din; the three-fold circles-within-crescents Crest of Farore to the left of that, currently visible to you; and by process of elimination, the face currently hidden from you will bear the "lunar ripple" that is the Crest of Nayru.
Standing next to this pillar - and leaning on it, at that, one elbow propped at his side - is a most curious figure. Tall for a Hylian, he wears a dark red cape with a mantle that reaches his waist in the front. Under that lies what is either a unitard or a very close-fitting pair of tights and matching sleeveless shirt, colored white and with large diamond-shaped sections of the material cut out to expose the darker grey skin beneath. Elbow-length gloves cover his forearms, the same color and cut-out style as the rest of his clothes, while a gold sash is belted around his waist, a single massive red stone mounted in the diamond-shaped gold clasp.
The cape has a high, broad collar - you can see the diamond-pattern repeated on the interior lining, albeit in red and gold rather than slashed-out sections of fabric - but no hood, leaving the latest challenger's shock of white hair in plain view. Like Vaati, the figure's bangs hang low over his face, hiding almost half of it - the left side, this time - but his hair is fairly short otherwise, so that his right ear and the blue stone earring hanging from it are in plain sight.
The face beneath the hair is almost too pretty to be male, but the dark eyes are wide and wild, and the mouth below curves in a smug smile.
Catching sight of Akasha, the figure pushes himself up from his slouch and straight into a flamboyant bow, arms spinning unnecessarily all the way.
"Welcome! Welcome! And thrice welcome, madam, to this" - he straightens up, arms spread wide as he turns back and forth in a gesture that takes in all of the barren pit - "the most holy of holies! I apologize for that unsightly pile of rocks at the rim," he adds, gesturing dismissively at the temple, "but I never DID get around to destroying the place in life, and I'm afraid I'm stuck with it for eternity now. Troublesome Goddesses and their rules..."
Ahem.
Thunder rumbles somewhere among the heavy clouds.
You were saying?
"But I am forgetting my manners again," he continues smoothly. "Permit me to introduce myself."
DEMON LORD: GHIRAHIM
"Might I have the pleasure of your name?" Ghirahim inquires, fluttering his eyelashes.
His query earns a look of annoyance, but also an answer: "Akasha Bloodriver."
"A lovely name," the Demon Lord sighs as he casts back his head, one hand pressed to his brow. "Fitting, for a lady almost as beautiful as myself. And powerful, too." He leans forward, leering at her. "I like that."
"I'm spoken for," Akasha replies flatly.
Ghirahim recoils with a look of shock, hands clutched over his heart. "Ah, alas!"
And then, amid a haze of diamond-shaped motes of black, white, red, and gold energy, he disappears.
Akasha turns about to face Ghirahim, who is now lounging atop the first "tier" of the spiraling path, some fifteen feet above the bottom of the pit. One leg dangles idly over the edge, swinging slowly.
"But power alone wouldn't have brought you this far," the grey-skinned demon continues, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the stormy sky. "To convince our... gracious hostesses... to pull ME, of all beings, out of history's rubbish heap... that would take skill, too, and intelligence." He casts her a mournful look. "Are you SURE I can't convince you to-"
"Very."
Ghirahim slumps over sideways as if in despair, but disappears in another burst of floating rhomboids before he hits the dirt.
Akasha turns again, following the teleport to the opposite side of the pit and higher up along the path, where the Demon Lord has reappeared. Arms folded and head bowed, he could be a figure of depressed contemplation, if not for the fact that he's hanging inverted off the ledge - hair and the long back of his cape dangling below - apparently held up by nothing but his lower legs hooked over the rim - and the left of those is kicking its heel against the stone.
"Such rejection! And without even a moment's hesitation... am I losing my charm?" He shakes his head. "No, surely it can't be that. So then why... oh, of course!" And then he claps his hands abruptly and looks 'up' at Akasha. "Silly me. It's been so long since I had to observe the social niceties, I'd quite forgotten!"
Ghirahim lifts both legs off the top of the ledge and lets himself fall, vanishing for a third time to reappear in a crouch next to the white pillar. As he stands, his cape dematerializes with the same sort of light-show as his teleportation, while a dark, saber-like sword manifests in his hand.
"The way to win a lady's heart," he declares, striking a pose, "is with a dance. Shall we?"
Akasha responds by summoning her own sword-
"Oooh, would you look at that?" the Demon Lord says with glee. "We have something in common!"
-and going straight for his head-
!
-but as fast she moves, the Demon Lord reaches up, CATCHES her sword with his empty hand, and stops it cold.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Ghirahim chides, shaking his head as he pushes Akasha's sword away.
The palm of his glove, you notice with some concern, is still a clear, unstained white, and there doesn't seem to be so much as a light cut.
"Such haste, such tension," the Demon Lord scolds. "Try to relax a little, my dear. Take your time and enjoy the MUSIC!"
He punctuates that statement with a swing.
*CLANG*
*CLANG*
*WHOOSH*
*CLANG*
*SCREEEE*
That one-handed blade-catch revealed that Ghirahim is much, MUCH stronger than his slim frame suggests, not to mention has reflexes that are competitive with a vampire's. He's slower over distance, but not so much that it's a terrible handicap, particularly in light of his impressive level of swordsmanship.
His actual fighting style is hard to pin down, because he seems to change it at a moment's notice. One second he's holding his ground against Akasha, matching her strength to strength and blow for blow; in the next moment, he's gone evasive, twisting, turning, and all but dancing around her sword while lashing out wildly with his own; and then he grabs her sword again, drags her in and headbutts her, before launching a flurry of kicks and punches - the latter bringing his sword along almost as an afterthought.
After that exchange, Akasha tries to put some distance between herself and her opponent-
"Ah, the lady plays hard to get!"
-only for him to teleport back into melee range.
"It's charming, but really, we have to be TOGETHER to dance."
The vampire frowns, then breaks contact again-
*BOOM*
-moving just far enough to be out of the immediate blast radius when she throws her sword at Ghirahim, and blows it up in his face.
As the smoke clears, the Demon Lord is revealed to be hunched slightly forward, staring at Akasha in surprise, but with no more damage than a few scuff marks and some smoky stains.
"...well," he says with slow amazement. "That was rude."
With a swing of the hips to dodge one of Akasha's Blood Arrows-
*BOOM*
-which blows a crater into the wall that half-rings the lowest level of the pit, Ghirahim frowns up at Akasha.
"Perhaps the lady-"
*BOOM*
"-needs a refresher course-"
*BOOM*
"-in MANNERS!"
In the midst of his evasive maneuvers, a languid snap of the Demon Lord's gloved fingers summons a dozen floating black blades. Small daggers of a similar design as his sword, they form a vertically-oriented circle around Ghirahim, eerie red light flashing from their hilts as they spin like propeller blades. At a forward thrust of the Demon Lord's blade, the blades begin to fly-
*CLA-BOOM*
-the first one just in time to intercept the next arrow, and detonate it before it's close enough to catch Ghirahim in the blast. The shockwave throws the next flying dagger off-target, causing it to bury itself in the stone behind, above, and slightly to the left of Akasha-
*CLA-BOOM*
-and the next two are mutually-annihilated by her following arrow, which blows up much closer to the vampire than the first. After that, however, the remainder of Ghirahim's barrage of blades closes in. Fast as they are, their straight-line trajectory makes them easy enough for her to dodge-
!
-but that's when Ghirahim teleports into striking range, eyes wide with manic glee as he chops downward with his black blade.
Akasha's regeneration would let her tank a hit like that easily.
*CHOP*
The fact that she instead swings her bow up to block, sacrificing it rather than take the blow herself, suggests that she senses or suspects something about the Demon Lord's weapon that would make her usual tactics unwise.
On the other hand, it's possible that Akasha just doesn't want to give a demon the satisfaction of having shed her blood-
*POW*
-or maybe she saw that Ghirahim was airborne, had just expended his teleportation - and so was unlikely to be able to use it again right away - and took the opportunity to tangle up his weapon and pull it and his hands out of position, so she could sock him in his eminently punchable face.
The Goddesses may be taking the opportunity to inject a slow-motion shot, because Ghirahim seems to hang in mid-air for a moment, the momentum of his teleport-assisted "leap" and the pull of gravity canceled out by the force behind Akasha's fist. His expression as his head rocks to one side is honestly very satisfying to see, even if yours isn't the hand that dealt it.
The guy is at half harlequin, after all, and what's that but an old-fashioned kind of clown?
Then the slow-mo moment passes, and the force of Akasha's punch flings Ghirahim clear across the pit-
*CRASH*
-and into the wall.
You get another split-screen view, the right side showing Ghirahim hanging in his own little crater in the wall - yet still, worryingly, without a trace of blood or other spatter - while the left displays Akasha nursing sore-
*POP*
"Oh, ick!" Cordelia gags. "Gross!"
-make that BROKEN knuckles.
"What is this guy MADE out of?" Tatsuki wonders.
"O'ly tha... ha... fi'etht materialth, I... hn... atthure you," Ghirahim groans, as he half-falls, half-drags himself out of the stone.
Regaining his feet, the Demon Lord grasps his jaw - which actually looks broken - and shoves it back the other way with a sound that isn't remotely that of grinding bone or popping tendons.
It's more like the screech of metal on metal.
He moves his mouth as if chewing air, then leans his head first left and then right, stretching slowly.
"Well, then," Ghirahim says softly, eyes narrowing as he gazes across the pit at Akasha, who's finished re-setting the bones in her right hand and regenerating the associated damage. "The lady has made her feelings known. I believe this is the point where a gentleman would bow out."
Then he makes a curious gesture with both hands, flinging them forward and up as if flicking off water.
His gloves vanish in a burst of white quadrilaterals - and instead of flesh, his forearms are revealed to be composed of some sort of gleaming black metal.
...guess you know now how he was able to catch Akasha's sword without hurting himself.
Dark left hand raised above his head, Ghirahim snaps his fingers, and his sword - which fell to the wayside somewhere during his brief flight - reappears in his right hand. Another snap, with left hand held almost directly forward, causes a diamond-shaped field to pop into existence in front of the Demon Lord.
"Fortunate for me, then, that I am no gentleman."
And then he charges.
Akasha fires off a Blood Arrow at the incoming Ghirahim, but the shot is intercepted by his hovering force-field - clearly some kind of amped-up Spell of Shielding - which emerges from the ensuing explosion trailing smoke, but otherwise unscathed.
The Demon Lord doesn't even break his stride, though he does have to adjust his heading to keep up with Akasha, who was moving even as she took the shot, trying to get into a position where she could snipe Ghirahim from the side. She gets a few more arrows off, and as each one hits, the diamond-shaped barrier starts to lose some of its luster, even shedding a few broken shards of its matrix. By then, though, it's clear that the arrows aren't going to prevent Ghirahim from closing with Akasha.
She switches out her bow for her blade, just in time to meet the metal-armed madman's charge.
Just before impact, the Demon Lord's barrier splits into four equal quarters - once again, all black diamonds, though these start glowing red at the center - which fly apart to give Ghirahim enough space to clash with Akasha unimpeded.
*CLANG*
*CLANG*
*WHOOSH*
*WHIFF*
*CLANG*
*CLA-CLANG*
*CLA-POW*
Black saber and steel arm seem like they'd be a reasonable match for blood sword and vampire arm, but Akasha is somewhat hindered by the continued presence of the four hovering diamonds. They've taken up cardinal positions around a point in space slightly ahead of Ghirahim - one just above the level of his head; one opposite it, in front of his knees; and one to each side, roughly at the level of his elbows - and while the magic that sustains them keeps them maneuvering smoothly out of their creator's way, they're far less obliging to Akasha.
The first time she hits one of the whirring, whirling diamonds, it shatters with enough force to momentarily stall the Dark Lord's strike.
Ghirahim smoothly reaches out and seizes the end of her blade, dragging her forward and into a slicing stroke from his own weapon-
*SCREEEE*
-which Akasha deflects with her vambrace, though not without the unnaturally keen blade leaving a long and comparatively deep scratch along the metallized, youki-infused blood off that section of her armor.
With this evidence of how sharp and strong Ghirahim's sword is, you take another look at Akasha's blade of hardened blood, and grimace at the notches you can make out where it's met the other sword - or Ghirahim's iron fist.
Akasha's clearly noticed the problem herself, because instead of continuing with the exchange of blades, she pierces the flesh of her off-hand with her fingernails, flings the resulting droplets of blood at Ghirahim-
"Not the fa-!"
*BOOM*
-and while he's coughing, clasping one hand to his face, and crying foul at the trick - sounding disturbingly approving of it, as it happens - she disengages, leaping backwards with enough force to carry her clear over the edge of the spiral path at a point where it's better than five feet off the ground, until she skids to a stop with the wall of the next "level" up at her back.
Bloodstained fingertips flash through the air, tracing a pattern that remains in their wake, a crimson haze of youki that rapidly evolves from a few lines into a fairly complex circle. It's only a bit larger across than Akasha's hand would be with the fingers extended, and the position of the "camera" through which you're viewing all this makes that too small for you to really analyze the structure, but its purpose is made perfectly clear when the hilt of another sword emerges.
Hello!
Ghirahim indulged himself in his little hysterical fit for only a couple of seconds, before pursuing Akasaha to the second level of the spiral path via teleportation. He pauses now, eyes widening as an expression of surprise and dawning delight passes across his perfectly intact face.
The sword Akasha draws from the dimensional "sheath" is of the same basic shape as the ones she's been using up until now. The metal of the blade reflects the light of the overcast day differently, however, seeming somehow brighter and more polished, and there is an elaborate tracery of some sort along the flat of the blade; the most outstanding elements are a couple of crosses, each located about two-fifths of the way from one end of the design. The weapon's hilt is similarly adorned, and the pommel-stone is single, perfectly smooth red jewel about the size of a golf ball.
Said stone pulsed once, like a beating heart, when Akasha's hand closed around the hilt. It's been glowing steadily ever since.
"Hell-oooo," the Demon Lord drawls, looking the weapon over. "And what's YOUR name, you gorgeous thing?"
...gaaah! I suddenly feel so DIRTY...
"HIS name," Akasha says sharply, "is Bloodriver."
"Even better!" Ghirahim proclaims, before throwing back his head and crowing to the skies. "I take it all back, you glorious golden wenches! ...well, most of it! Some of it. Maybe only a little... but this!" He gestures at Akasha and her blade with his own, looking positively gleeful. "This is truly the best of all worlds! Master and blade! Maker and made! Female and male! It's the complete package! THEY'RE PERFECT FOR ME!"
*CLANG*
Ghirahim laughs madly as Akasha and Bloodriver land a direct strike across his chest, smashing him back over the edge.
Following the crash from below, he calls up, cackling, "And they're RUTHLESS! I LOVE IT!"
It takes a moment for you to realize that the outburst of hilarity isn't coming just from the Demon Lord.
Gyokuro is laughing hysterically, so overwhelmed by amusement that the only things keeping her vaguely upright are her seat and her husband's shoulder.
Issa gives his legal wife a wry, resigned look.
You are rather curious as to what Gyokuro finds so amusing about Akasha's current situation that she's abandoned her dignity in front of the entire audience. You have a suspicion as to the cause - the fact that Akasha shares a name with what has to be her personal weapon, which she identifies as male, is rather telling, especially in light of the Shuzen family arrangement.
Still, this isn't really the best time for such questions. Fit of laughter or no, Gyokuro and Issa would likely prefer not to discuss something that touches on family affairs - hah - out in the open. Plus, if you're right, it's not really something the younger members of the audience need to hear.
Not to mention that you're all in the middle of watching a really good fight; asking the Goddesses to hit "pause" again would spoil the mood for everybody, and that would just be a shame.
So for now, at least, you rein in your curious nature.
Akasha leaps down over the edge of the spiral in pursuit of Ghirahim, giving the delighted lunatic no time to recover from his crash, and coming down with the point of her sword leading.
Too bad that Ghirahim didn't really need to recover; the fall was too short to do more than wind him, and his ongoing laughter proves how short-lived that was.
The Demon Lord rolls out of the descending Dark Lord, getting one steely hand under him mid-way through the move and pushing himself back to his feet-
*WHOOSH*
*WHIFF*
*CLANG*
-ducking and dodging a couple of strikes from Bloodriver along the way, before parrying a third. Akasha's put the full strength of both arms behind that one, and Ghirahim has to respond in kind to hold it, off-hand pressed against the back of his curved blade to hold it steady.
Then Akasha takes a step forward, shoving her opponent slightly off-balance, and while Ghirahim is recovering, she whirls around, leg coming up in a roundhouse kick that will take her enemy right in the side of the head.
Once again, the display seems to slow down, giving you time to see Ghirahim register what's about to happen.
*POW*
*WHOOSH*
*CRASH*
And then the moment passes, and he goes flying into a different part of the pit wall.
This time, rather than give her enemy a breather as he pulls himself free of the stone, Akasha pursues him.
Before she gets there, Ghirahim raises one unsteady hand, snaps his fingers, and disappears.
Akasha skids to a halt, looks around, and then raises her gaze towards the top of the pit, just a short distance down from and to one side of the ancient temple.
"Fear not, my lovely, lethal duo," Ghirahim calls down. "I have no intention of ending our little dance now. I just need a moment to adjust to the new tempo you've set."
Akasha ignores him, having already started leaping up the different levels of the path.
"So eager to return to my arms," the demon sighs.
He raises his empty hand and snaps his fingers again, summoning a second sword. Spinning both of his blades around, Ghirahim leaps over the side of the cliff.
"HOW CAN I REFUSE!?" he cries out in glee as he plunges towards Akasha.
They meet on the fourth "level" of the spiral, the Dark Lord and her namesake weapon parrying the twin blades of the diving Demon Lord, withstanding the force of the strike even as it shatters the ground beneath them.
Balanced on his blades, Ghirahim curls his body and pushes himself back into the air, back-flipping away from Akasha, swords held so that the spin of his body makes it and them into a kind of flying buzzsaw.
Akasha does her best to pressure him even so, but she's still showing that reluctance to allow herself to be cut by the black swords, which keeps her and her blade more on the defensive - a situation that only intensifies when Ghirahim gets his feet properly under him and starts swinging both of his swords about.
*CLANG*
*WHOOSH*
*CLANG-SCREEEE*
Gained Sword Training A (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Two-Weapon Fighting F
The main advantage of fighting with two weapons at once is being able to attack more frequently and from more directions. Most people would assume this method of combat doubles your offensive output, but in practice, it's not that simple. There's already enough happening in the middle of a fight between two warriors armed with one weapon apiece to keep the mind busy; keeping track of three different weapons requires a level of awareness and focus most people simply aren't capable of. And that's before you start factoring in the question of ambidexterity, trained or natural, stances, and how well two blades wielded with one hand each stack up - or don't - against a single weapon with someone's full strength behind it.
Credit where it's due, though: Ghirahim is clearly every bit as comfortable with a sword in each hand as he was with just the one, and his wild, flamboyant movements make him all the more unpredictable. Combine that with Akasha's firm refusal to allow herself to be cut by those black blades, and it doesn't take the Demon Lord long to start driving the vampire back.
"Watch that first step!" he calls. "It's a long way to the-"
Ghirahim blinks as Akasha leaps backwards off of the ledge, in an arc that carries her through the air above the center of the pit. Halfway across, her wings burst into view and beat once, twice, and then a third time, steadying her position and altitude.
"-huh." Ghirahim regards the flying vampire for a moment, and then shifts his grip on the sword in his left hand so he can snap his fingers once more.
Akasha starts as what looks like a dozen of those small black blades appear around her from out of nowhere, the red glow of the stones glowing ominously as they spin about in a wavering circle, buzzing steadily. The orbit of the conjured weapons is wide enough and at just the right level to miss any of Akasha's wings, but only if she holds them perfectly still; one beat will carry them into the path of the summoned short swords, at which point you'll all find out just how dangerous Ghirahim's weapons really are.
Of course, without beating her wings, Akasha can't maintain her altitude. And her current slow, drifting descent leaves her wide open to whatever Ghirahim does next.
Rather than hang around to see what that might be, Akasha folds her wings around her body like a cloak and lets herself plummet. The flying blades dive after her, still turning through their orbit and so leaving spiraling trails of ruby-red light in their wake, but as quick as they move, Akasha falls faster.
At the last moment before she hits the ground, Akasha flares her wings again, breaking her fall and landing neatly on her feet. The lead she gained over the blades chasing her is just enough for her to pull her wings back in before they catch up-
*CLA-BOOM*
-and throw a handful of blood into the path of the incoming daggers, the ensuing explosion clearing the sky.
Even before that's done, you see Akasha reaching for the second of the golden armbands she's been wearing since she arrived on Bali Ha'i.
Here we go again.
Between the overcast sky and the absence of Akasha's first seal, the atmosphere within the pit was already dark and dingy. Now, as Akasha removes her second seal, it's as if night has fallen - and yet, at the center of the darkness, there blazes a pillar of crimson power, wreathed by a flock of countless bats that have appeared from out of nowhere. The beam rises to the clouds, punches through, and reveals the sky beyond, black as midnight.
"Oooh, ho, ho, ho!" Ghirahim chortles, staring into the rubescent glow with a wide grin. "Decided to stop holding back, have we?"
Akasha glares up at her opponent, seemingly physically unchanged except for her eyes - normally green and kind, and now bloody red and fiercer than any vampire you've ever seen, slitted pupils backlit by the blaze of the same light that surrounds her.
"That's a GOOD look for you," the Demon Lord says, licking his lips as he raises his swords into a ready position. "But I wonder: is it all for show?"
Akasha disappears-
*CRA-CLANG*
-and reappears in front of Ghirahim, having already completed a two-handed slash with Bloodriver that blew right through the Demon Lord's guard, struck him across the chest, and sent him staggering backwards.
"Hehehehe... I guess... it's not just for show," Ghirahim chuckles, as he recovers from the blow.
Akasha moves again, too fast to follow through the viewing globe, and again, there is an almost explosive impact of steel against steel, as Ghirahim reels from another blow.
Having failed to parry twice in succession, Ghirahim summons his diamond-shaped shield again.
*BANG*
This actually stands up to Akasha's next strike, though cracks spread out from the impact of her sword.
"Definitely not for show," the Demon Lord muses, before he teleports across the pit.
The next couple of minutes are a reversal of the earlier exchange, though with a great deal more movement involved. In her newly-released state, Akasha is too fast and strong for Ghirahim to face in melee, and he knows it, putting his magic to work instead: flying blades appear by the dozens; Walls of Force formed from those strange, quadri-colored diamond shapes appear all along the spiral to try and lock down different parts of the path; swarms of large, angry-looking Bokoblins charge down the spiral; and once - just once - Ghirahim teleports, trying to drop on Akasha from above again.
The vampire either smashes the swords out of the air with her own weapon, or blows them apart with her own conjured explosives. The first time Ghirahim tries to seal her behind a barrier, she just leaps over it, and when he wisely includes a "roof" with the subsequent attempts, Akasha smashes a hole through it in a few seconds. The Bokoblins are practically a non-issue, and Ghirahim's "surprise" attack proves to be nothing of the kind - Akasha either senses him coming, or just reacts so fast to his re-appearance as to make the effort a waste of energy.
*CRA-CLANG*
The Bokoblins show their worth then, having FINALLY managed to catch up with Akasha, and in numbers enough that she can't quite afford to ignore them. As she snarls and turns to put the interlopers down, Ghirahim teleports back to the bottom of the pit, where he stands clutching his chest with one hand, swords having disappeared during the transit.
"It seems, then, that I have no choice," he declares, pointing his palms towards the ground, fingers clenched like claws. Black diamonds well up in a circle around his feet, pilling on top of each other until they spill outwards like a bubbling spring. "Give me a moment to slip into something more comfortable, will you?"
Surrounded by Bokoblins and bits thereof flying away from her in every direction, Akasha takes the fastest route available to her for reaching the bottom of the pit, and simply leaps down - but the big-headed goblinoids delayed her just long enough, and their master is swallowed by his own unleashed aura, a pillar of black energy that blasts towards the sky much as Akasha's did.
"Copycat," Moka says distastefully.
Akasha flings another handful of exploding blood at the pillar of darkness, but something in her expression and bearing suggests that she doesn't expect it to achieve anything - and sure enough, Ghirahim's unleashed power withstands the blasts as readily as Hyrule Castle's outer wall did.
When the dark lightshow dies down a moment later, Ghirahim is revealed to have undergone a decidedly more dramatic change than Akasha did when she unleashed her latest seal. He's grown physically larger and more muscular, particularly in the upper body, but that frankly pales next to the fact that his entire body is now made of the dark metal that had previously been limited to his forearms. Flesh and fabrics are gone, replaced by a sexless, inorganic figure that reminds you a bit of pictures from the movie Terminator 2, of the T-1000 in its liquid metal state - though Ghirahim is distinctly more solid.
The Demon Lord's body is not an unrelieved black. White lines cut across it in an asymmetrical assemblage of interlocked diamonds - mostly outlines, but some solid - which are most concentrated along his right shoulder, both forearms, hips, and left leg. His hair, too, has taken on metallic qualities, and instead of covering half his face, it's now gathered up in a rigid style that... honestly reminds you a bit of a swirl-topped ice-cream cone, and leaves blank white eyes to stare coldly out at the world, as well as a white, kite-shaped diamond set over the forehead. A diamond-shaped emblem of steel rests on the center of the Demon Lord's chest, a line extending from three out of four sides and running to the rest of his tattoo-like markings, as if connecting them all into one large array.
"It's been such a terribly long time since I last used this form," Ghirahim declares in a voice that echoes slightly. "And that time involved a certain meddlesome BRAT who SIMPLY WOULDN'T DIE, GAH!" Grasping at his head between both hands, Ghirahim momentarily thrashes around, as if the memory causes him actual physical pain.
Considering which meddlesome brat he's likely talking about, you feel a moment of genuine empathy, if not precisely sympathy for the Demon Lord.
"...well, I'm sure you can understand how that would rob the memory of a certain satisfaction, yes?"
"Seeing as how I've never masterminded a plot that a child could unravel," Akasha retorts tightly, as she raises Bloodriver to a more threatening stance, "no, I really can't say that I do."
Ghirahim staggers backwards, clutching at the shield on his chest. "S-so cruel! Great lady, you wound me deeply."
"That IS the idea," Akasha agrees.
"Indeed." Chuckling, Ghirahim snaps his fingers and summons another black saber - but just the one. "Then allow me to RETURN THE FAVOR!"
And they're off again.
*CLANG*
*CLANG*
*CLANG*
*WHOOSH*
*CLANG-SCREEE*
The pace of the fight has shifted yet again. Ghirahim no longer fights with wild acrobatics, but strength and solidity, matching Akasha for sheer brute force once again. It's a bit like the first phase of this round, except that from the way Ghirahim parries Bloodriver's strikes off his blade and forearms without even flinching, you don't think you're going to be seeing Akasha kicking him into the walls of the pit again. It's not just the Demon Lord's skin that's made of that dark steel, it's his entire body, and the mass that gives him is such that even a vampire can't casually manhandle him any more.
It also adds a terrible force to his blows, and if that weren't enough, a dark aura seethes around the saber as well, leaving a razor-thin trail in the air behind it. Bloodriver seems to be able to clash with the other blade without harm, but Akasha is once again forced to step up the defensive side of things.
Despite that, Ghirahim manages to get around or through her guard a few times before Akasha gets the full measure of his new form's increased capabilities. The damage is mostly confined to her armor, but the Dark Lord picks up a wound or three: one a long but shallow cut across her arm; another small but relatively deep; and a third underneath a rent in her cuirass, making it difficult to tell how serious the damage really is.
And you do mean "is," not "was." Minor as they are, one thing all three wounds have in common is the fact that they don't seal over and heal away in a matter of seconds, but continue to bleed sluggishly until Akasha cuts one of her fingertips and draws the blood across the wounds.
Back and forth they go, Ghirahim's weight making him slower over distance, but his awareness and reflexes such that the advantage of speed avails Akasha little. When she tries the exploding blood trick again, the Demon Lord responds in kind with more of those flying daggers, intercepting half of the deadly little globules and tanking the detonations of the rest without so much a twitch. And while Akasha is cutting the remaining blades out of the air as they fly at her in a staggered volley that is just fast enough to keep the pressure on her, Ghirahim raises his sword to the sky, causing it to burn a fiery orange.
The spinning circle of fire that flies forth when he brings the blade down a moment later is perhaps the most unusual Sword Beam you've seen used today. You wonder if it's that color merely because the energy being channeled is that of a demon, or if there's a genuine elemental aspect to it.
Either way, Akasha sidesteps the strike.
From what you can see, Ghirahim's current form has two likely weak-points. One of these is the white gem on his forehead, whose position over the "third eye" would be in keeping with the "go for the eyes" theme that's been so prominent today. The other target is the steel plate on the Demon Lord's chest, which is by far the larger and more obvious of the two - the only question is, does that make it too obvious?
Seeing the way Ghirahim recoils when Akasha finally gets through his guard and strikes a blow to his chest, apparently not.
With her target identified, Akasha pulls out another trick, hands glowing darkly red as she channels her youki into her weapon. The aura spreads along the blade, leeching away what color it had and leaving the weapon looking black and white, despite the blood red wisps trailing from its edges.
The next time Bloodriver clashes with Ghirahim's saber, there is an explosive release of power, which shatters the thinner blade into so many fragments.
Even in his shock at the loss of his weapon, Ghirahim reflexively brings his off-hand over his chest, shielding his weak-spot.
Bloodriver's aura detonates a second time on impact, but when you've blinked away the flash, you see only a shallow cut along the back of the Demon Lord's arm.
"Aiya," Akua exclaims in surprise. "Father, shouldn't that have destroyed him?"
"I would have expected him to lose the arm, at least," Issa agrees.
The only noise Ghirahim makes that MIGHT be in reply to those remarks is a growl, as he punches at Akasha with the hand that still grasps the broken hilt of his sword, purple energy flaring around his fist.
Akasha ducks the punch and stabs at her opponent's chest with Bloodriver.
Another explosion ensues, and this time, perhaps because the power was focused at the point of the sword rather than all along the edge, Ghirahim is sent staggering backwards, a spiderweb of black cracks spread along the back of his left arm.
Teleporting away once more, the Demon Lord reappears with a new and different sword, this one a massive, two-handed broadsword almost as long as he is tall.
Exploding sword-aura or no, Akasha doesn't even try to parry hits from that thing. Instead, she focuses entirely on evading and then counterattacking in the relatively long window of Ghirahim's recovery.
The Demon Lord answers that, not by trying to attack a second time with his new weapon, but simply by pulling its thick blade up to intercept the much smaller Bloodriver's strikes. Akasha's destructive youki technique still sends cracks shooting through the flat of the larger blade, but it's wide enough to shield Ghirahim himself from most of the blast.
Though when Bloodriver swings back around and connects more with the edge of the larger sword than the flat, the Demon Lord still gets caught by about half of the resulting blast. His sword also breaks, shards of the dark metal falling away and leaving a clearly-visible notch in the blade, but Ghirahim seems unconcerned by that, and focuses on turning the less damaged edge to parry Akasha's third strike while it's still some distance away.
A moment and an explosion later, Ghirahim swings again, forcing Akasha to leap back. In the moment that buys him, the Demon Lord takes one hand off the pole-like hilt of his weapon, snaps his fingers once more-
!
-and completely repairs all the damage to his blade.
Then he takes the sword with both hands and raises it above his head, the fiery glow of his version of the Sword Beam gathering.
Akasha dashes in to strike before Ghirahim can complete the technique, but the energy building around his weapon extends down and around his body like an inverted funnel-cloud - one that's also on FIRE - deflecting Bloodriver's cutting edge and the deadly energy being channeled through it.
When Ghirahim swings, spinning around it a massive, deadly circle, it's not a single beam or a thin, scything wave that erupts out from his weapon, but a WALL of fiery force that spreads out - vertically as well as horizontally - as it expands outwards.
A lesser opponent would have nowhere to run, no way to dodge.
Akasha makes a standing jump that carries her clear over the deadly wave - ten feet high if it's an inch - and back down onto the surface within striking distance of Ghirahim, who was visibly strained by that move, if not so much that he can't pull his sword up to block.
One, two, three rapid strikes land in succession, blowing larger and larger holes in the massive blade each time. Ghirahim tries to rotate the sword, but Akasha adjusts her strikes in kind, and the mass of the Demon Lord's weapon prevents him from getting a good look at her in the process.
As such, the fourth blasting blow smashes right through the center of the huge sword, sundering it completely and sending Ghirahim staggering backwards as he's forced to eat much of the explosion of Akasha's youki.
When she stabs him in the chest a moment later, Ghirahim lets out a shriek like tearing metal as the diamond-shaped plate over his pectorals is reduced to so many flying shards. Revealed beneath, is yet another diamond, this one and the steel flesh about it - and the jagged cracks around THAT - glowing like the mouth of an active volcano.
Ghirahim vanishes in another teleport before Akasha can land another hit, and he reappears behind her carrying another giant sword, already winding up for a swing-
!
-but offense is forced to defense as Akasha whirls in place and thrusts at the Demon Lord's exposed "heart." Her following movements are so swift that you could be forgiven for thinking Bloodriver was a rapier, such is the dazzling speed with which its flickering tip dances about, jabbing at Ghirahim's massive blade a dozen times and leaving as many explosions in its wake - smaller than the massive blasts from before, that threatened to engulf the Demon Lord whole even if they didn't really damage him, but no less effective at tearing into and then THROUGH the relatively fragile weapon.
When Ghirahim's sword shatters for a second time, Akasha draws back Bloodriver and holds it for just a second, aura intensifying at the tip.
Ghirahim sees it coming, and desperately grabs for the weapon with both hands-
*CLANG*
*SCREEEE*
*BOOM*
-but though he catches Bloodriver mid-thrust, he fails to STOP it. Supernatural steels keen in unison as the sword's edge grinds against Ghirahim's palms for a moment, before the tip almost lightly touches the stone in his chest.
When the explosion has passed, the gem in question is visibly cracked.
Staggering backwards, Ghirahim stumbles as he collides with the white spike, which has been standing there, largely forgotten, for the duration of the battle. Leaning on the stone for support, he looks down at the sacred emblems for a moment - skin hissing and glowing cherry-red from the contact - then drops to one knee while drawing back his fist.
With a cry of desperation, Ghirahim punches the short column-
*CRACK*
*HISS*
-then yelps and pulls his fist away from the white stone, steel fingers glowing and throbbing from the contact with the unblemished stone.
You couldn't have broken it in life; what made you think this would be different?
"It was worth a shot," the Demon Lord sighs.
You DO realize your boss isn't in there, right? Not even a shadow of him.
"I take back what I said about taking back what I said," he adds, leaning forward and closing his eyes.
A strange thing happens then. For a moment, Ghirahim's form flickers, and you're not seeing a creature that might be a dark Faerie of steel, if such a thing has ever existed. Instead, a jet-black sword of similar dimensions as the broadsword Ghirahim was wielding moments earlier rests against the white stone, jagged blade extending down from a hilt in the shape of bat's wings.
A symbol akin to the Triforce Crest glows red on the flat of the blade, but... inverted.
The image is there and gone so swiftly, you wonder if you were imagining it.
It's a close thing, but given the choice between asking if anybody else noticed Ghirahim apparently turning into a sword for an instant, or keeping quiet in the face of a being who's already showed some awareness of his audience, you opt for the tried and proven path of not calling demonic attention down on your head.
Particularly not the attention of a Demon Lord powerful enough to push the resident Dark Lord as far as you've seen in a one-on-one battle.
Following that blink and you'll miss it appearance of the image of a dark sword, Ghirahim's slumped and damaged body begins to flicker at the edges, diamond-shaped motes of magic blinking into and out of view almost like static on a television screen in need of adjustment.
"Well," he sighs, looking up at Akasha, "this was some of the most fun I've had in the last several thousand years. We'll definitely have to do it again sometime."
"Don't feel the need to rush on my account," Akasha replies.
Ghirahim presses the heel of his left hand to his brow, declaiming, "Oh, the lady is cruel to the end!"
Then his shiny white teeth flash in a manic grin, and with a flick of his already upturned wrist, he snaps his fingers one final time.
A dome of floating diamonds forms around Akasha, and the tips of dark swords of various designs begin to protrude from the interior.
Akasha takes one look at that and raises Bloodriver before her, bowing her head and holding the first two fingers of her off-hand to the back of the blade. Its youki aura, previously a hair-thin line of dark, wispy energy, begins to grow brighter, thicker, and more menacing.
"Please allow me to return the gift in kind!"
And the swords fly forth.
Once again, events within the Ring appear to slow down. As the swords all but crawl forward, you see Akasha take Bloodriver's hilt with both hands, invert the blade, and drop to one knee as she thrusts the point of her weapon into the ground.
HOLY-!
The resulting explosion is by far the largest you've yet seen Akasha produce, and it swallows the dome, everything in it, and the rest of the bottom-most layer of the pit besides.
More the opposite, I think.
Including the cackling Ghirahim.
Never mind that! Is she still alive in there!?
You glance across the Ring to the Shuzens' seats, and find Moka staring intently at the viewer, one fang peeking into view as she bites her lower lip and hugs her new puppy close. Her sisters' reactions range from sparkling-eyed awe (Kokoa) to a mix of interest and concerned glances in Moka's direction (Akua), but Gyokuro and Issa don't appear to be worried at all.
More impressed, albeit grudgingly so on Gyokuro's part.
When you can clearly see the bottom of the pit again, it's visibly changed. The white spike is still there, as is a broad circle of the ground beneath it - a circle defined by the elaborate magical design centered on the short column - and dark energy crackles as it runs across the entire area.
I am suddenly feeling extra-vindicated in that decision not to go for full authenticity with this Trial.
Outside of that, almost nothing is recognizable. The lowest portion of the spiraling ramp has been reduced to so many chunks of rubble, and the next "ring" features a number of deep cracks along its wall and even across its surface. Jets of gas are shooting out in a few places for some reason.
Yeah, if there'd actually been a shadow of the Imprisoned in there, that probably would have woken it up, Seal or no Seal.
All in all, leaving aside the sealed circle, an area a good thirty feet across has been thoroughly wrecked by that explosion.
Akasha stands in the middle of the devastation, looking fresh as ever but for those few scabbed-over and still-unhealed injuries.
Annoyingly, Ghirahim is also still present, though he's no longer leaning against the spire, and is instead laid out on his back a few feet away. That static-like haze you saw earlier has greatly intensified, to the point where the outline of the Demon Lord's body can no longer be said to be solid, and the details of his elaborate body-markings are difficult to make out.
He may also have a few more cracks scattered across his skin than before, but that could also just be dirt; the static makes it hard to be sure either way.
"Magnificent!" the dissolving demon declares in delight. "Such destructive power! Such control! Oh, if I wasn't in love already, this would have done it!"
"Do you EVER stop?" Akasha demands with a scowl.
"Only when my Master commands it be so," Ghirahim admits easily, which seems to give Akasha a moment's pause. "And I truly, deeply regret not being able to introduce the two of you. He would have LIKED you." He lays his head back down on the dirt with a sigh. "Oh, what could have been... if not for thousands of years of separation, a few dimensional barriers, a scheming little witch of a goddess, and that stubborn, annoying, BRAT OF A HERO..."
The Demon Lord's body finally gives up the ghost then, turning into a cloud of diamonds that shoot into the sky like a thinner, darker version of the surging pillars of unleashed power you saw from both combatants before. Despite that, however, Ghirahim isn't quite done talking.
"Farewell, my beautiful lady, and take care of that fine sword of yours! I will be counting the days until our next dance!"
And then he's gone, the last of his energy vanished into the sky - dead or simply conceding the battle, you can't be sure.
The Seventh Round concludes, and the Eighth begins.
For the penultimate phase of her Trials and what will hopefully be the last stage of actual combat, Akasha finds herself not in an ancient ruin, a burnt-out wasteland, or a magical stronghold, but standing in the middle of a wide, grassy field under a clear blue sky. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the flowers are blooming - at least for the second or two before her unleashed aura paints everything over in hues of blood and darkness, and silences the birds.
In the distance, there is a neigh.
The view within the globe turns as Akasha does, allowing the audience to see the chestnut horse galloping towards the vampire. The mare is not the largest of her kind - Arthur's own Maddoc was noticeably bigger, and not just by dint of being male - and her tack is limited to bridle, saddle, and bags, with not a hint of armor. Even so, she is clearly a fit beast, and fast, besides.
Mounted atop this unassuming steed is a similarly unlikely figure. From a distance, all you can make out is the leaf-green of a tunic and long, floppy hat, and the bright blond hair under that cap, but as the horse carries him closer, other details come into view.
The blue hilt of the sword slung across his back.
The rim of the shield carried over the sword.
The glint of the mail rings peeking out from beneath the tunic.
The sapphire of his keen eyes, fixed on Akasha, gazing out from an expression of unwavering intent.
CHOSEN OF COURAGE: LINK
"Waaaait a minute," Sokka says suspiciously. "Alex, didn't you fight this guy when he was wearing all black?"
You can't help it.
You throw back your head and laugh heartily.
"...not the answer I was expecting," you hear Sokka say.
It takes a second for you to get control of yourself, after which you turn your attention to the young Water Tribe warrior.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sokka, but no, what I fought wasn't just this guy with a different set of clothes."
"Are you sure?" Sokka presses. "Because there's a serious resemblance there, even with the whole" - he holds up one hand in front of his face, gesturing at the eyes in particular before sweeping it up and down in a more generally-inclusive motion - "color-swap thing."
"I'm sure," you tell him. "What I fought was only a copy, and one that was... quite a bit weaker than it could have been."
"And this one?"
You pause and look into the center of the Ring. Link has reined in his horse while still at a fair distance from Akasha, and is sitting there, regarding the armed and armored vampire with a slight frown.
"There's a story in the Kingdom of Hyrule," you say, as much to the audience in general as to Sokka in particular. "A Legend... It says that when Evil threatens the land, and the only living heir to the throne is a Princess by the name of Zelda, a Hero will come. Not one of the great Sages or Knights of the Realm, not even a grown man, but a boy from humble origins, wearing a simple tunic and hat of green. Through many adventures, he will gather the ancient treasures of the realm, weapons, armor, and tools with which to overcome any foe, any obstacle, until at last, he confronts the source of the darkness."
Link dismounts, unslings the shield from his back, and fixes it to his right arm, revealing a mirror-like sheen and the Royal Crest.
"In one hand, he bears a Shield of the Knights of Hyrule. In the other-"
Link's left hand reaches up and slowly draws his sword - and as it emerges from its sheath, it's like a ray of sunlight has just cut through the darkness of Akasha's aura, purging her youki from around itself and its wielder and restoring the pure, clear air of the field and bright, sunny sky above as they were. The effect doesn't extend all that far, no more than five feet from the sword itself, but within that radius, the purification is immediate and absolute.
That ache in your chest is back, and it's brought friends.
"-he wields the Sword That Seals the Darkness, the Blade of Evil's Bane: the Master Sword."
The shining sword whooshes through the air as Link twirls it about, just once, before raising it in a salute to Akasha.
"His name... is Link."
Akasha raises Bloodriver, returning the gesture.
And the Trial begins.
For a long moment, the Hero of one world and the Dark Lord of another make no aggressive moves toward one another, instead walking a slow circle through the grass, swords and shield making subtle shifts.
The first blow comes from Akasha, and it's an unexpectedly tentative one, a probing thrust-
*HISS*
-that sizzles and starts to visible trail reddish smoke as it passes deeper into the radius of purification surrounding the Master Sword. Link raises the Sacred Sword in an easy parry-
*CLANG*
*FLASH*
-and turns Bloodriver aside with a brief but brilliant blue burst of sparks. There wasn't much force in the move, but Akasha recoils like she just hit a Hylian steel pillar or something - and from the energy crackling along her sword and leaking off her right forearm, where it passed into the Master Sword's aura, it's not hard to understand why.
The vampires are not the only members of the audience to look stunned by this development. The kitsune, the priests, the knights, the sorcerers - basically everybody who actually lives IN the Moonlit World, as opposed to merely visiting on occasion - all of them realize the significance of a weapon that can actively purify a vampire's youki without even TOUCHING her, much less when it's a vampire as powerful as Akasha.
Ambrose whistles in admiration. "Now THAT is a holy sword."
Like a wolf on the prowl, Link sees his opponent's moment of vulnerability, and attacks.
*CLANG*
*FLASH*
*CLANG*
*FLASH*
*CLANG-SCREEEHISSSS*
*WHOOSH*
*WHOOSH*
*CLANG*
*FLASH*
Gained Sword Specialization (Hylian Sword) E (Plus)
Akasha parries the first few attacks, gritting her teeth as a little more of her youki bleeds or simply BURNS away with each blow. It quickly becomes apparent that the ambient aura of the Master Sword isn't affecting her quite as badly as it might have first appeared; she's clearly not comfortable being within the radius of the blade's "passive" purification efffect, and it does cause the dark power within her body to shift into visibility whenever it gets that close, but there's no true pain or loss of energy.
Direct contact is clearly another matter. Even when experienced "secondhand," as it were, through the medium of her sword, the Master Sword's cleansing force tears through Akasha's youki as readily as its steel edge would cut flesh. She only seems to truly LOSE power from her arm, and then only part of it, but the way the energy within her body keeps flaring into the visible portion of the spectrum tells you that the repeated shock of those brief contacts is wreaking havoc with the Dark Lord's control over her youki.
It even happens when Link defends with the holy sword. Akasha tries focusing her attacks on his shield instead-
*CLANG*
*FLASH*
-but getting past the Hero's guard proves to be easier in theory than in practice. And when she does manage it, as much because it's part of Link's style as because of her own skill-
*CLANG*
-she gets a reminder that Hylian Shields are no joke.
This one, even more so than the others.
It's barely thirty seconds into the fight when Akasha withdraws, her youki surging up almost like an imminent explosion before she breaks contact with Link and blurs away, traces of darkness lingering in her wake for a moment before the Master Sword's aura burns them to nothingness.
When she stops, Akasha is some thirty feet away, giving her plenty of space and time to respond to anything Link might attempt-
*GLEAM*
-although when he raises the Master Sword straight overhead, causing it to flash and visibly burn a larger hole into the cloud of her youki tainting the environment, the Dark Lord squints at the light like it was ten times brighter than what you saw, and backs up a little farther.
"HIYAAAAH!"
When Link brings the Master Sword down, completing the move that started so similarly to the fiery attack Ghirahim used, what erupts from the holy blade isn't a whirling disc of destruction, but a true Sword Beam - all the same energy, focused into a coherent ray. It shoots forth the instant the Master Sword's tip comes level with Akasha's position, punching a hole through her aura in a flash of blue-tinted white light, almost akin to a minor Light Arrow.
Akasha certainly leaps out of the way like it was one, avoiding a direct hit, but not moving fast enough to prevent her aura from wavering again by simple proximity to the blast.
On the other hand, when she rises from the hasty dodge, Akasha is no longer holding Bloodriver, but has instead brought her bow out again.
"I hate to say this," Masaki sighs, "but I get the feeling that's not going to be enough."
Just as she finishes saying that, Akasha lets fly with a Blood Arrow. The shot flies through the air almost as fast as the Sword Beam-
*SHING*
-only for Link to cut it out of the air, the Master Sword splitting the projectile down the middle and DISINTEGRATING what's left, without so much as the pop of a firecracker.
Akasha stands there for a moment, staring at her failed attack, and then clearly says, "Bulls***."
That's my boy!
"Mother!?"
"Ambrose," you call out, "please tell me you're recording this."
"Stop distracting me, boy!" comes the wizard's terse response, as he keeps his gaze fixed on the battle in progress.
So, if not ACTIVELY recording, he's at least committing the spectacle to memory for later possible extraction and perusal.
That works for you, as long as you can wrangle a copy of your own, or a chance to examine Ambrose's.
You let him poke around in your soul, so returning the favor and letting you poke around in his head would only be fair, right?
Within the Ring, Akasha follows up her initial Blood Arrow with a volley of half a dozen, none of which are aimed directly at Link, but at the ground around him, to catch him in their explosions.
*SHING*
*SHING*
A couple of those shots come close enough to Link that he cuts them down anyway, seemingly as much out of reflex as for any other reason.
*BOOM*
"Hwaa!"
That said, the Hero appears not to have been expecting exploding arrows, because the blast of the third one catches him by surprise.
But as the blast wave of the youki detonation sweeps toward and over Link, an array of magical defenses surges to life, barrier upon ward upon who-knows-what springing into view. As a result, instead of being reduced to a smoldering heap or straight-up vaporized, he just gets blown off his feet.
Even as Link flies through the air, instinct and experience are already in action, sword-hand coming down first-
*BOOM*
*CLANG*
-and shield shifting about so that it's between the next of the arrows to land and Link's head and torso. The Hylian Shield glows brightly as the next fireball engulfs it, and somehow PARTS the blast around it, so that while Link's leggings are buffeted by the blast, the rest of him is basically unscathed.
The tip of his hat blows in the "wind" a bit, but that's it.
Damn thing is practically indestructible anyway...
The hit to his legs staggers the Hero a bit, but it's his own will that sees him dropping into a crouch behind his glowing shield-
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
-which tanks the two remaining shots without issue.
Akasha already has more Blood Arrows in the air, of course, but now that he knows they're not just dangerous if they hit him-
*SHING*
*SHING*
*SHING*
-Link is rather determined not to give them a chance to go off.
Even he can only deal with so many fast-moving targets at once, though, and the next arrow slips through his guard-
*CLA-BOOM*
-and hits his shield, which once again deflects the blast around its bearer. Although this Arrow went off while in direct contact with the Hero, he was braced for it, and as far as you can see, the only effect is that his upper body gets rocked back slightly by the explosion.
Once again, Akasha pauses in shock. It's much shorter this time, just a hitch as she realizes Link tanked that last shot both directly and deliberately, but it's there.
*SHING*
*SHING*
And then he cuts down the last two arrows from the second barrage, the surprised stare turns to a scowl, and Akasha conjures a new batch of Blood Arrows, four of which she drives point-first into the earth at her feet while stringing the fifth. These bolts are visibly larger and, dare you say, NASTIER than the previous bunch, with jagged, spiky heads, fletching that looks like the leather sails of bat's wings stretched between bony spikes, and black shafts wreathed by bloody patterns and glyphs.
Link's gaze narrows as the first of these... Black Blood Arrows?... comes into view, and he swiftly removes his shield, slips it into one of his pouches-
Some of the younger, less mystically-aware members of the audience make sounds to the effect of, "Wait, what?"
Most of the rest are making noises, too, but of interest rather than confusion.
Those who know you particularly well also glance your way in brief recognition.
-and in its place, takes out a different shield. This one has a silvery-white face, polished to a mirror sheen that makes it difficult to discern the imagery worked into the material, particularly with the sun's light reflecting off of it in the space purified by the Master Sword's power.
Akasha winces slightly as the reflection passes over her face, but then fires the first Black Blood Arrow straight at Link-
*HISS*
-said projectile darkly mirroring the Light Arrows as it turns into a bolt of pure, bloody darkness, streaking towards the Hero-
*CLA-BOOOOoooo...*
-only to strike his new shield almost dead center, and then be ABSORBED into the gleaming metal. The symbols adorning the shield start glowing, then, the topmost revealed as the Crest of the Gerudo.
Something in you wrenches at the sight.
Akasha, on the other hand, looks like she wants to hit somebody - almost assuredly, Link. Instead, she lets out a slow breath. "You know what? Fine! If that's the way you want to play it, let's see how many of these that shield can take!"
*HISS*
"Oooh." Navi sucks air through her teeth. "THAT'S going to bite her in a second."
*HISS*
"What do you mean?" Issa asks.
One Black Blood Arrow was enough to make the Mirror Shield glow about as brightly as a candle. The second has it shining as bright as any indoor lamp you care to name, and the third makes it look like a small, scarlet sun-
"HA!"
*BWEEEEEEEEM*
-for all of about three seconds, before Link leans forward and thrusts the magical relic ahead of him, discharging the stored power in a broad ray, which flashes back across the space between the Hero and the Dark Lord, ERASING the two arrows she had in flight-
*KA-BOOOOM*
-blowing a modest, ten-foot-wide crater into the unfortunate field, centered on where Akasha WAS standing, and THEN carving a long furrow over two feet across through the soft earth behind, which trails off into the distance.
For a moment, everything is still. If there had been any serious thermal element to that attack, you expect that there would be a nice little grassfire in progress right about now, but as it stands, Akasha's redirected energy hasn't actually ignited anything.
Sucked the life out of all the grass within twenty feet of the primary point of impact, sure, as well as two or three feet around the trench behind it, reducing the grass there to so much blackened, crumbling ash. But nothing's actually BURNING.
Navi turns to Issa and makes a wordless gesture of presentation.
Issa simply nods.
Absently shaking his arm and the no-longer glowing, but still brightly reflective shield on it, Link looks around for Akasha, even peering into the distance as if expecting her to have been picked up and carried along by that youki-laser.
You can't really say that she WASN'T; between the flash of the death ray and the dust cloud it kicked up, you kind of lost track of the vampire. There's no sign of her in the immediate vicinity NOW, and the grass is not so long that it could hide a grown woman in armor while she was laying down. Maybe if she'd been blown to pieces, but you should have seen signs of at least one regenerating Akasha by now if that were the case.
So then, where...?
You'd not sure what catches Link's attention, but his head jerks upwards, and is followed an instant later by the Mirror Shield-
*BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BOOM*
-just in time for it to catch several exploding droplets from a rain of blood.
The "camera" angle pans back a bit, and you see that Akasha has taken to the air again.
That's... probably not going to help her very much, unless she's got an attack that doesn't rely on throwing blood-based youki-fueled conjurations at the Hero.
Particularly not when Link puts away his shield AND returns the Master Sword to its sheathe, before taking his own bow out of his pouch in their place.
DOUBLY so when the arrow he nocks to the string begins to glow with a distinctive golden aura.
"HE has those things TOO?" Moka protests, just as Link lets his first shot fly.
It's not as dazzling as Zelda's version. The physical arrow does not transmute to pure Light, nor does it go flashing through the air at ludicrous speed. But a golden aura wreathes the bolt, clearing a path through the air as Akasha's ambient youki burns away in front of it.
And where Zelda needed a few seconds to charge a single Light Arrow to full power, Link proves able to fire these weaker versions with greater speed. It's not as fast as he can draw them, but it's about three times quicker than the Princess managed.
Considering what these Arrows can DO, that's enough to force Akasha into taking evasive action.
Then, like Akasha, Link pulls out an arrow distinctly different from the simple bolts he's been empowering and firing off, one whose plain steel head has been replaced by a relatively large cylinder with a pointed end.
A little fuse hanging out the back end of the "arrowhead" gives away what that cylinder is.
And then Link starts charging up the Bomb Arrow with LIGHT.
"...now that's just CHEATING," you protest.
It was with the air of long practice that Link scraped the fuse on the end of the Bomb Arrow as he nocked it, starting the countdown to its detonation.
It's with an air of calm concentration - or mad fearlessness - that he draws back the sizzling arrow and HOLDS it for the time it takes to charge with Light, and draw a bead on the vampire above.
And all the while, a smoldering orange flame rapidly consumes the fuse.
"Is... that a firework?" Ichigo asks.
"I... don't think it's a firework, Ichigo," Tatsuki says slowly.
Link fires.
"What do you think-"
Akasha sees the attack coming - after the regular Light Arrows that preceded it, she could hardly fail to - and turns to soar out of the path of the gleaming bolt.
And then you see that somebody misjudged distance, speed, or maneuverability, because the-
Light Bomb Arrow?
Exploding Light Arrow?
...
-the PROJECTILE that Link shot at Akasha detonates a bit shy of reaching her original altitude.
*BOOM*
And once again, there is a flare akin to a second sun being born.
...it's a very small and short-lived sun, the actual explosion no more than about five feet across, but it clears the air of the menacing miasma of Akasha's ambient youki for a good twenty-five feet in any direction.
Akasha is well outside the primary blast radius, but she's also well within the area of secondary effect, and she screams in surprise as it sweeps over her, graceful flight turned to frantic thrashing of wings in an instant as she recoils from and shields her eyes against the diffused but still dazzling Light. You're not sure if she takes any hits from fragments of the bomb, but if she does, her armor must have tanked the impacts.
If nothing else, there are no obvious burning holes in her wings or elsewhere on her person.
"...huh," Ichigo finally says.
"Yeah," Tatsuki agrees.
Again, Link sees a moment of weakness as a sign to press his attack, and lines up a shot with another Light-infused Bomb Arrow.
Still reeling from the explosion, Akasha twists around in spin that costs her more altitude, even as it sends a spray of blood pellets raining down.
The Hero's eyes go wide, then narrow intently. He fires his arrow off the moment he's finished charging itwith Light, and it blazes a path of purification through the deadly red rain that's now just inches above him - clearing a "safe zone" just barely wide enough for Link's body to fit, but which will not do a thing to protect him from the imminent explosions.
And he doesn't have his shield.
Link lets out a yell-
*BA-BA-BA-BA-BOOM*
-and is swallowed by the staccato roar of the explosions.
Akasha is a little too busy getting the heck out of the way of his second arrow to pay much attention to that-
*BOOM*
-but this time, she manages to keep on the fringes of the Light-infused explosion, and moreover, is mentally and physically braced for the event. She still flinches slightly, but not enough to lose control again.
Turning her back on the second short-lived sun to appear in this round, Akasha looks at the newly cratered and smoke-covered field below-
*BANG*
-and blinks in surprise at the almost gun-like report that accompanies the hooked chain flying from the top of the smoke at her.
And by "hook," you mean, "three-pronged claw, spread wide to grab whatever it hits."
In this case, what it hits is Akasha's left leg, about halfway between knee and ankle.
The vampire makes a wordless noise of protest as the claw latches on to her - and then she squawks and lurches downward, losing several more feet of altitude even as her wings beat faster to make up for the sudden pull, as a certain Hero is dragged off the ground towards her, the gauntlet-like device on his right hand clanking rapidly as it retracts its attached chain, and a diamond-shaped field of cool blue magic surrounding him.
The Master Sword is once again in Link's left hand, though his shield - either shield - is not currently in evidence.
"He's BATMAN, now!?" Larry exclaims.
Batman doesn't stab you to death with a holy sword, you think.
Akasha pulls out Bloodriver again before the Hero is in striking range, though whether it's to parry the obvious incoming attack, to try hacking at the chain of the Clawshot, or just to cut her own leg off and solve the whole problem at once, you're not sure. The angle's amazingly awkward for any sort of sword-work beyond stabbing the incoming menace - which YOU know won't work with Nayru's Love up, and Akasha can at least intuit, given how un-exploded Link is - Hylian steel chains aren't easy to sever, and cutting off your own leg even when it'll grow back seems a little extreme...
*CENSORED*
...then again, you're not the one making the call.
It's Link's turn to cry out in surprise as his upward momentum is suddenly and literally cut off. For just a moment, he hangs there in mid-air, the retracting Clawshot yanking half an armored leg towards him, now that the resistance of the rest of the body is no longer holding it back.
Then gravity takes over.
"Whaaaa-!"
As Link starts to fall back to the battered earth below, the Clawshot retracts far enough for Akasha's severed leg to come into contact with the surface of Nayru's Love. Visibly swelling in a Goddess-blurred manner that could presage regeneration and growth, or an imminent explosion, the limb is stopped short by the glowing barrier, momentarily "jamming" the Clawshot.
*BOOM*
Then the leg explodes, swallowing Link and everything else within twenty feet in a youki fireball. This is large enough for the lowest point of the blast to sear away some of the remaining grass and topsoil amid the craters below, while the top half engulfs Akasha - but it was HER energy to start with, and by virtue of the same trick of youki manipulation that let her wield her exploding sword in melee and stand in the very HEART of an equally powerful explosion as this and emerge unscathed, she soars out of the blast a moment later, perfectly intact but for her re-growing leg.
Link, on the other hand, comes shooting out of the bottom of the fireball like a ball from a cannon-
"Aaaaaa-!?"
*BOOM*
-to crash into the ground a moment later, sooner and decidedly more forcefully than would have been the case if he'd simply been left to gravity's tender mercies.
It's a good thing for him that Nayru's Love is still up, although even the nigh-invulnerability of that worthy spell doesn't do much for recoil. The Hero lies there in his own personal crater for a moment following the rough landing, and when he starts struggling to pull himself out of the dirt, it's with a great deal of gracelessness and head-shaking.
By the time Link is back on his feet and recovered from whatever vertigo he was suffering, Akasha has likewise finished regenerating her leg and replacing the armor that went with it.
The Dark Lord circles overhead for a relatively long time, wings beating slowly and a frustrated frown fixed on her face as she considers the problem of the apparently-invulnerable Hero below her.
Link, in turn, keeps one eye on Akasha as he puts the Clawshot away - at least for now - and takes out a different device in its place.
A high-pitched noise of excitement comes from where the Water Tribesmen are sitting, sounding vaguely akin to a squeaky dolphin.
The Boomerang in Link's hand does not appear to be made of steel, or at least not entirely; the center is wrapped by metallic bindings around a clear blue gem, while the end of one arm is capped with the same material, as if to form a grip. The other arm, meanwhile, has been fashioned to resemble a white wing, feathers spread if in flight and making it considerably larger than its counterpart. This gives the weapon a distinctly lopsided appearance, and you have to wonder how it will affect its flight, to say nothing of how a mere Boomerang is supposed to be dangerous to a vampire, much less one in armor.
Then, as Link takes aim and draw his arm back to throw, the gem flashes, and wind starts swirling around the weapon and its wielder.
"Magic boomerang," Sokka whispers in gleeful awe.
When the Hero lets it fly a moment later, the Boomerang spins through the air at the heart of its own tiny tornado. The force of the winds and the Hero's arm combined carry the weapon across the distance to the flying vampire in a blink, and when she tries to dodge, the Boomerang makes an impossible turn to chase her.
"Magic. Homing. Boomerang," Sokka squeals.
The attack isn't aimed at Akasha's head or body, but at her wings, the only part of her person not currently protected by black steel plate. When the Boomerang strikes, it does so at the top joint of the lowest and largest wing on her right side, and with enough force that the limb is momentarily stunned by the hit.
The thought has just begun to cross your mind that this one blow isn't going to amount to anything, given all the other wings Akasha has and her rapid rate of recovery, when the Boomerang suddenly flies UP into the next wing, giving that one a strong smack as well, then proceeds on to the topmost and smallest limb, before rebounding back down to hit the first two again, from different angles.
The blows themselves are trivial; the whirling wind that accompanies them, rather less so. The Boomerang's onslaught ends with all the wings on that side of Akasha's body dragged together and out of position to keep providing lift - which sends the Dark Lord yawing hard to her right.
"SUPER. MAGIC. BOOMERANG!" Sokka crows, leaping to his feet and brandishing his own recently-enchanted boomerang in the air.
Link seems to smirk as he summons the winds once again, takes aim at the wings on the left side of Akasha's body, and throws.
*BOP*
*BOP*
*BO-ANG*
The Hero winces as Akasha lashes out with her empty left hand, smacking the Boomerang off-course. Attack spoiled, the magic weapon comes swooping back to its master, who plants the Master Sword point-down in the earth, catches the Boomerang, and reaches into a different pouch.
Out comes a Bomb.
Link lights the fuse, sets down the explosive, and backs off several rapid steps, visually measuring distances and angles between himself, the Bomb, and Akasha.
"He's not gonna-" Tatsuki begins.
For a third time, the Hero throws his wind-summoning Boomerang, which swoops around the hissing Bomb, lifts it up atop its flying funnel-
"He is," Ichigo says.
-and ferries it through the air towards Akasha.
Sokka says nothing to this, jaw hanging so low it's a wonder it doesn't simply fall off.
Quick as a blink, the vampire's left hand shoots out to snatch the Bomb as it flies into range, yanking it free of the whirlwind and flinging it away. The explosive detonates less than a second later, but Akasha got it far enough in that brief time that the blast is harmless to anyone.
Link fields his returning Boomerang with a frown, clearly a touch put out by the failure of his tactic. With a sigh, he returns the Boomerang to his pouch and takes the Mirror Shield out in its place. After fixing the shield on his right arm once more, Link takes out another item: a rod of blue and white metal, topped by a blue crystal. Once exposed to the warm air of the field, the thing is rapidly wreathed by thin tendrils of white mist.
Kneeling to set the Ice Rod down in what's left of the grass - which immediately begins to darken with frost - Link pulls the Master Sword free of the earth and tucks it back into its sheath. Then he takes up the Ice Rod, rises to his full height... and waits.
And waits.
And waits a little more, one foot tapping idly, before Nayru's Love finally fades out for a moment, giving off a soft, crystalline chime of warning. When that happens, Link raises shield and rod, visibly reading himself to move, while little white winglets about his booted ankles that you hadn't really noticed before start flapping, as if in anticipation.
"What's with the feathered footwear?" Cordelia asks.
As below, so above; already having taken the sheathing of the Master Sword as a sign to ready her bow, Akasha conjures and nocks a Blood Arrow.
When Nayru's Love goes down, things happen quickly.
Link runs towards Akasha's position, moving faster than you've seen him do so far in this Trial, wing-booted feet kicking up loose soil with every stride.
Akasha fires her first arrow, hissing in annoyance as Link's sudden burst of speed ruins her shot. She conjures a second arrow and fires again, but Link has started weaving back and forth as he approaches, and spoils the second shot as well.
*BOOM*
And then, as Akasha summons her third arrow into being, Link reaches what he considers an optimal distance. Leaping into the air to get that not-so-little bit closer to Akasha-
The second Blood Arrow goes off behind him even as he leaps.
-the Hero brings up the Ice Rod, its sapphire tip already gleaming with a cold, clear white light. A swirling spray of icy blue lights erupt from the magical item, the water vapor in the air around them condensing into white mist as they sail towards Akasha.
You immediately see why Link tried to get as close to Akasha as possible before using the Rod, for while the freezing blast covers a respectable area - five feet across if you count the entirety of the vapor-cloud - it doesn't cross distance as fast as a Sword Beam or some of the scarier arrows you've seen flying around in this fight. As close as the two opponents are, Akasha's speed and reflexes are such that she has time to see the blast coming and what it's doing, fire her arrow straight into the oncoming cloud of magic, and pull up.
Akasha's Blood Arrow neither explodes nor is purified out of existence by the power of the Ice Rod. Instead, it freezes solid and simply drops out of the air, all momentum suddenly lost.
The beating of Akasha's wings blows back the white vapor, but the sparkling motes of unleashed Ice Magic are unimpeded by such a simply defense, and continue straight on.
Link does not score the direct hit he might have liked.
But when the longest of Akasha's wings on her left side passes through the glittering haze, the sudden spread of ice along - and through - the limb and across - and into - her body is enough.
Where a weaker monster might have frozen solid, Akasha is "merely" about one-third frozen, and much of that merely surface ice.
Seeing as how that quarter includes most of the wings on the left side of her body, however, it's enough.
Pitching over to the left this time, the Dark Lord falls from the sky.
The ice across her body shatters on impact, taking the largest of her wings with it.
Even crashed, down a limb, and with widespread frostbite interfering with her regeneration - though only to the point of slowing it, you note, as the stump of the shattered wing sluggishly regrows - Akasha springs to her feet and spins around to face the Hero.
And then she immediately leaps to one side, trying to dodge another cloudy blast from the Ice Rod.
Once again, the size of Akasha's wings works against her, as the two largest wings on the right side of her body get caught by the arctic magic and frozen solid.
This time it's not a crash-landing that shatters the iced-over limbs, but Akasha herself. You also see most of her remaining wings shrinking and withdrawing, the frost-numbed regeneration stopping and then going into reverse. She keeps the topmost pair, however, perhaps feeling that their relative smallness will make it possible to keep them out of the line of fi- uh, ice, allowing her to retain some of the associated benefits.
Then another shot of sub-zero sorcery flies Akasha's way, aimed ahead of her. She tries to put the brakes on, wings billowing outwards to catch as much air as possible, but it isn't quite enough to overcome the burst of speed she put on.
The billowing mist sweeps over Akasha, obscuring her from sight, and when it's moved on, what appears to be a perfect replica of her carved from pure ice is all that remains.
Link lets out a sigh of relief, puts the Ice Rod away, and starts to pull something else out of his bag of endless tricks-
*CRACK*
-only to look up in shock as a single, jagged fracture appears across Akasha's seemingly-frozen body.
Link rushes towards Akasha, producing a Hammer from his pouch. The capitalization is merited, and not just for whatever magic is bound up in the item, because the head of the thing is almost comically large - bigger by far than the hammers you'd find in a household garage or most hardware store displays. It's closer in size to a sledgehammer, though the handle isn't nearly long enough for two-handed use. More of a mallet than a hammer, really, and even then...
Despite its silly proportions, when Link brings the Hammer down on Akasha's frozen form, it strikes with tremendous forces-
*CRACK*
-shattering the ice with a single blow.
Gained Club Training D (Plus)
Against most enemies, that would have been the end of the fight right there. The Ice Rod is powerful enough to freeze an unfortunate victim solid, though due to the peculiarities of the magic involved, so long as such an individual is left alone, they'll "thaw" in a minute or so and be none the worse for wear. That said, any physical injury visited upon the frozen body will carry over to flesh, blood, and bone, and if you hit it hard enough to shatter... well, you suspect that even most vampires wouldn't survive being reduced to hundreds of separate pieces.
Akasha is not most vampires.
When the Hammer shatters the ice, the Dark Lord within is revealed to be pale and shivering from the cold, but otherwise fine.
Link has just enough time for his eyes to widen in alarm-
*POW*
"Whaaaaa-!"
-before Akasha wrenches the Mirror Shield out of position with her left hand, and brings her right foot up in a crescent kick that takes the Hero in the side of the head and sends him flying.
"That felt really satisfying," Akasha mutters to herself, as she shrugs off the fragments of the ice still clinging to her, and spends a moment just shivering in the aftermath.
Were it not for all the defensive items you know Link has to be wearing, Akasha's kick likely would have smashed even HIS hard skull to powder. As it is, even those enchantments don't do anything to stop him from going on another short flight; he doesn't gain much altitude, but there was enough force behind the blow for a good fifteen feet of distance before he hit the ground again, and another ten feet or so of tumbling after that.
Before the Hero can gather himself up from that, Akasha appears in his field of view in a blur of motion, and starts unloading a flurry of kicks and stomps at his prone form.
*POW*
*STOMP*
*POW*
*POW*
*WHOOSH*
*STOMP*
For the next few seconds, Link is too busy taking whatever defensive action he can to even think about pulling another item from his pocket. He rolls one way and then the other, interposes his shield wherever possible, curls his legs up to keep them from getting stepped on, and then turns that into a double-kick, which Akasha counters by simply grabbing his feet with one hands-
"WHAAA-OOOMPH!"
-and then swinging him up, around, and down into the ground.
"Go, Mother!" Moka cheers.
Akasha lifts Link again, and has just started to swing him down when the - rather woozy-looking - Hero reaches up and grasps the hilt of Master Sword again.
Even though she's just far enough from the unsheathed holy sword to not be caught in its aura of purification, Akasha immediately lets go of Link - who, having been halfway through the downward arc of her swing, goes flying once again. Despite that and the headache he must have right now, Link manages to get his feet under him before he hits the ground, and skids to a halt at the end of two earthen furrows, dropping to one knee behind his shield.
He's breathing hard.
"I think she's got him," Emiko says slowly.
In response to Emiko's excited statement, you throw back your head and laugh again.
You can't help it. Nothing against Akasha, but the very idea that she's about to win a fight with Link, just because he's starting to look a little winded, is, well, laughable.
"Aaaand all of a sudden, I'm having doubts," the fox says.
Emiko's wisdom, and your own "confidence" in the Hero's abilities, are borne out. Hunkered down behind the Mirror Shield so that Akasha can't see what he's doing, Link lets the bottom of the shield rest against the upturned earth to help keep it upright as he passes the Master Sword to his right hand, before reaching into his pouch with his left.
And promptly pulls out a Bottle of Blue Potion.
"He has healing potions, too?!" Moka protests, shooting you a glare. "Alex, how is that fair?!"
Seeing as how he only has two hands, Link has to perform a bit of a juggling act to uncork the Bottle. This gives Akasha time to produce a new batch of clones - three in total, all of which are holding their own bows and Blood Arrows when they've "grown up" enough for the Goddesses to remove the visual censors. The Dark Lord's doppelgangers then spread out to encircle the Hero, one going to his left and the other two moving to his right, Blood Arrows moving to bowstrings.
By that point, however...
*POP*
*GLUG*
*GLUG*
*GLUG*
Link lowers the half-empty Bottle and makes an amazingly expressive face of disgust before replacing the cork, stowing the Bottle in his pouch again, and returning the Master Sword to his left hand.
*SHING*
Just in time to slice a probing shot from one of the Akashas - or should that be Akashae? - out of the air again-
*BOOM*
-tank the blast of a second Blood Arrow with the Mirror Shield-
*WHOOSH*
-backflip over a bolt that would have hit him from behind, and how did he even see that COMING?-
*BOOM*
-and then somehow interpose his glowing shield a second time, as the last of the initial four Blood Arrows goes off.
Then his feet hit the ground, and Link makes another high-speed dash at the Akasha directly ahead of him. You THINK that's the actual Dark Lord, but you're not quite certain; she and her clones did a little high-speed "shuffling" before they spread out.
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
Behind the charging Hero, a couple of Blood Arrows fall short-
*SHING*
*CLA-BOOM*
-while two more are intercepted by sword and the once-again brightly-glowing Mirror Shield.
Akasha grimaces at the sight of the re-empowered device, and starts falling back, trying to put as much distance between herself and the incoming Hero as she can before he unleashes another "reflected" attack using her own power. Meanwhile, her three clones continue to harry Link with exploding Blood Arrows from the other directions-
*BOOOOM*
-only for the Hero to swing the Mirror Shield onto his back and unleash the accumulated youki while he's still running. In the absence of a braced stance, the resulting "explosion" acts like a magical booster rocket, accelerating the Hero from the realms of low-end superhuman to something more impressive.
Particularly with the Master Sword leading the charge.
"HIIIIYAAAAH!"
*SHING*
The Dark Lord drops into a reverse roll as the Master Sword slashes through the air where her waist was just a split-second earlier, cleaving her bow in half without a hint of resistance.
Link's speed is such that he only has time for the one attack, but as he rides the reflected rocket of stolen youki past Akasha's position, you note that he keeps the Master Sword held before him, blade glowing brighter and brighter with every flying footstep.
When his "booster" gives out a second later, Link skids and spins, sword trailing what looks like FIRE as he makes two complete turns-
"TSIYAH!"
-before sending something that's part Sword Beam, part Spin Attack, and part raging firestorm SCREAMING back the way he came.
At roughly fifteen feet in diameter, the wave of energy is by no means the largest attack you've seen in this fight, but it's FAST, and that combination of size, speed, and the simple shock value of its unexpected delivery are enough to catch the dodging Akasha a blow across the midsection.
While it doesn't actually set her on fire, the strike causes the Dark Lord to double over with a choked-off cry as her aura goes BERSERK. Dark energy writhes across her form, here and there leaping out to ground itself into the earth with small but violent detonations.
The three doppelgangers collectively flinch.
Even Link appears taken aback, but he quickly recovers and rushes back at Akasha, clearly intent on getting in a clean hit while her defenses are down.
The clones respond to this by charging in themselves, firing Blood Arrows as they come-
*SHING*
*SHING*
*WHOOSH*
*SHING*
*CLA-BOOM*
-and then, after those fail to dissuade the Hero, by throwing themselves physically in his path.
Blood-forged bows ring out more like light swords as they slam into the Mirror Shield, but whether they're emulating wood or steel, their shape is just not suited for close-combat. Even vampire strength can only do so much with such light-
*SNAP*
-and fragile implements-
*SHING*
*SHING*
-particularly when the Master Sword is cleaving them asunder and purifying the broken halves to so much dust before they can be detonated.
That does leave the clones themselves, but for some reason, they opt not to self-destruct - or at least, not YET. Instead, they dogpile Link-
"Wha-?!"
-one to each arm, while the third just straight-up tackles him across the stomach.
You know that Link has access to a few different items that enhance his strength, and the seemingly golden plates covering the backs of his leather gauntlets suggest that he's using the most powerful of those: the aptly-named Golden Gauntlets, otherwise known as the Titan's Mitts. But as much as that equipment might have allowed the Hero to trade blows with a vampire on something approaching equal footing, three of them grappling with him at once proves to be a bit too much.
And as Link goes tumbling down, you see dark red lines racing across the clones' skin and armor, presaging the imminent explosions-
"HAAAA!"
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
*BOOOOM*
-so when the fireballs start expanding an instant later, the only surprise is that there's four of them: three the red-tinted black of Akasha's youki; and one the gold-flecked orange of Din's Fire.
When the smoke clears, Link is the only one still there, laying on the ground flecked with dust and ashes, panting with shock, but intact.
"Did... did he just blow HIMSELF up... to stop THEM from blowing him up?" Ichigo says in disbelief.
"It's actually worse than you think, Moka," you admit.
"...how?"
"That isn't just a healing potion," you tell her, nodding at the screen. "It's also a magical restorative."
Moka grimaces and turns back to the viewing sphere, where Link is chugging down the Blue Potion.
"You mean he can shoot even MORE of those horrible arrows at my mother."
Your sympathetic expression is more earnest than Moka can possibly know.
"Honestly," you add, "I'm surprised it took THIS long for one of the challengees to pull out a Bottle. They're pretty popular among the intelligent races of Hyrule, and the Princess, at the very least, should have had a couple tucked away in case of emergencies - particularly with the way she was going through Light Arrows."
She actually did, we just edited that bit out. Sorry.
You don't recall Ganondorf ever using Light Arrows himself, but he got hit with the blessed things often enough to leave you with a good idea of the kind of power they held, and hence what it must have cost to use them. Even with the inherent advantages against demonic AND evil entities that come with being divinely-backed manifestations of Light, they wouldn't have been cheap.
And while the Princess is generally more adept at magic than the Hero, that only goes so far towards increasing her magical reserves.
You can only nod in agreement to Ichigo's remark.
"Yeah, Link is nuts that way." You sigh, rubbing your forehead. "I mean, don't get me wrong; technically, it's a perfectly valid approach, IF you have the right kind of magic. Force against force, like countering like, and so on. But most people who have enough magical talent to pull something like that off would know other spells that would work just as well, like short-range teleportation or an emergency force-field - heck, we SAW Link using Nayru's Love earlier, he could have just used that again."
"Na-who's WHAT?" Ichigo asks, making the face of a typical preteen boy confronted by such gross and incomprehensible things as FEELINGS.
"You mean that blue crystal barrier thing?" Tatsuki asks, grinning from ear to ear.
"Nayru's. Love," you repeat.
Ichigo gags.
Tatsuki grins wider, and it HAS to be the oni blood that gives her so many teeth.
"So why didn't he use it, do you think?" Akkiko cuts in, with a certain degree of professional curiosity.
"...opportunity cost, maybe," you venture. "Nayru's Love shuts down your ability to use other spells for as long as it lasts, as well as magic items that draw their power from you rather than running off their own sources."
You trail off for a moment, pondering other possibilities, but nothing really stands out.
Then you shake your head, "Anyway, just to be clear: don't try that at home, kids."
"You're a kid," Mio and Miu point out.
While you've been talking, Link and Akasha have been slowly picking themselves up. The Hero groans as he sits up in the ash-strewn dirt-crater the multiple explosions gouged into the now thoroughly-ruined field, and rotates his neck and shoulders stiffly. The Dark Lord, meanwhile, dropped to her hands and knees while your attention was more focused on Link, the clones, and their not-quite-mutual annihilation; she puts one foot beneath herself and tries to stand, but ends up slumping to one side.
"Worse than Mikogami's holy water squirt guns," Akasha complains in an undertone.
Proving that Hylian ears are not entirely for show, Link makes a sound of interest.
"You, be quiet. The last thing I mean to do is give you tips on being even MORE annoying."
At that, the Hero smirks, and pulls out another blue-colored rod - darker in hue than the Ice Rod, and evidently less cold, as it lacks its own little cloak of mist.
You don't know if it's centuries of combat instinct or just a mother's sense for childish antics, but Akasha takes one look at the new magic item and then glares at Link, hissing, "Don't you DARE."
Link waggles his eyebrows, points the Rod at Akasha, and waves it skywards, calling, "Hup!"
"Oh, you little-"
A pillar of water several feet across erupts from the turf beneath Akasha, cutting her off in mid-sentence and carrying her into the air.
On the positive side, being hit by that Sword Wave carrying some of the Master Sword's sacred power already blew Akasha's youki fuses, so there isn't a lot that being blasted by water on top of that can really accomplish.
On the negative side, to judge by Akasha's half-drowned, bubbling curses, it apparently still stings.
"That cheeky shit," Akkiko says wonderingly.
The geyser summoned by the Water Rod doesn't persist very long - you make it about five seconds - and it only lifts Akasha about ten feet into the air, which might be a concern for a human when the magic cuts out, but isn't much of a concern even for a weakened vampire. Then too, the magic involved appears to be keeping a semisolid "platform" in existence at the top, so that rather than blasting Akasha senseless and sending her flying, the liquid pillar is mostly just carrying her straight up.
As such, when the magic ends and Akasha drops from the air to hit the mud with a squelch, she does so on her feet.
Of course, by then Link has also recovered from his little explosion-induced tumble, and is smiling brightly at her.
*POW*
You can completely understand Akasha's desire to punch Link in the face after that.
Too bad that, with the bulk of her power temporarily shut down by the Master Sword's powers of sealing and purification, she wasn't fast enough to close the distance before he got his shield up. Nor did she have the strength to simply hit the Mirror Shield hard enough to knock it back into his nose.
...this could be a problem.
"And I include myself in that statement," you tell the twin kitsune, without missing a beat.
Granted, you do so less because of your age and more as a mental note that you ARE one of the practitioners alluded to earlier: skilled and knowledgeable enough to counter an explosion with another explosion; but likewise, equipped with far safer methods of protecting yourself from such things, like the emergency force-field or short-range teleport mentioned.
...you're not sure if you'd use teleportation under those circumstances, though. All of the spells that come to mind from that sub-school of magic take at least a few seconds to perform, which would be a bad thing with three about-to-explode vampire clones in your face.
Emergency Force Sphere, on the other hand, was pretty much MADE for situations like that. The only question is if you'd be able to modify it to exclude the walking bombs before they went off...
Link peers over the rim of his shield at Akasha, blue eyes blinking in surprise at the sudden loss of speed and force behind her attacks.
In that instant of distraction, while partially hidden by the shield, Akasha brings her left hand up, places it on the Mirror Shield alongside the right, and gives as hard a shove as she can manage.
In her current state, she lacks the strength to send the Hero flying backwards. She doesn't even manage to topple him over.
But the push DOES rock Link back on his heels ever so slightly, forcing him to adjust his footing-
!
-at which point Akasha kicks out low, trying to sweep her opponent's forward leg from underneath him.
She doesn't manage it with the impact, and before she can try to hook her ankle around Link's leg, he thrusts his shield down at Akasha's leg HARD, forcing her to break contact, step back-
*POW*
-and then bring her other leg up and around in another crescent kick, this time from her left leg instead of the right.
Once again, however, Akasha's loss of strength is telling. The last time she landed a kick like that, Link went flying; this time, his head just turns to one side, defensive barriers flashing as they absorb some of the impact.
He's still visibly stunned by the hit, though. Enchanted accouterments or no, being kicked in the head by someone wearing sabatons is no joke.
*POW*
Quick as a wink, Akasha's leg snaps back the way it came, catching Link in the face. The Hero's flinch is more pronounced this time, the reflex to protect the eyes coming into effect.
Akasha starts to bring her foot back AGAIN-
*CLANG*
-but Link isn't so stunned by those hits that he's forgotten about his shield. And when he blocks Akasha's kick, he leans forward in a one-armed shove, putting the force of the Titan's Mitt into the move.
This time, it's Akasha's turn to go flying backwards through the air. She covers a distance of about ten feet or so before hitting the ground - on her back, but with the fall expertly broken despite that - and skidding along for another few feet. Link must have been measuring his strength, so as not to give the Dark Lord too much space or time to work with, but he may have misjudged, for even as she recovers and stands once again, Akasha's right hand is going through the motions that "unsheathe" Bloodriver.
And despite the partial sealing imposed on her youki by the Master Sword's power, the Dark Lord's weapon is responding to the summons.
Is it enchanted to do that, instead of simply relying on Akasha's energies? You think it must be.
While she's doing that, Link puts away the Water Rod, and draws the Master Sword once more.
...is it just your imagination, or does the clash of holy aura and vampiric youki as the Sacred Sword clears its sheath seem less pronounced than the last couple of times?
*CLANG*
Akasha doesn't even have Bloodriver half-drawn from its dimensional pocket when the Sword That Seals the Darkness swings down at her, but a third of a sword is enough to parry a strike - even if doing so sends her staggering backwards from the sheer force behind it.
Although red and blue sparks fly where the two swords collide, there is a distinct lack of the surging red aura along and within Akasha's hand and forearm that you saw in previous passes. In fact-
*CLANG*
-Link is hitting Akasha hard enough that even with both hands on Bloodriver, left hand gripping the blade for extra strength and leverage, her weapon is getting driven back almost to her breastplate every time the Master Sword connects. That's more than close enough that you should be seeing the youki in her body clashing with the holy aura of the Hero's weapon, and yet... nothing.
The evidence seems to suggest that with her youki partly locked down, Akasha is actually LESS vulnerable to the Master Sword's holy aura than she was before.
...this feels like the sort of thing Akasha would have REALLY liked to have known BEFORE she got into the Ring with the Hero of Hyrule.
As it stands, you don't see how the information can help her now, assuming she's even noticed it, much less thought her way through the implications. It's no aspersion against Akasha if she hasn't; you know better than anybody that Link coming at you with the Master Sword in hand is the sort of thing that tends to command ALL of one's attention, and send higher thought processes out the window. The fact that he's hammering Akasha across the field like this, blows coming fast and hard enough to keep her off-balance, yet not so overpowering that she has a chance to break contact, would just make it harder to focus on anything besides the seemingly unstoppable murder-machine in her face.
For all of that, though, Akasha still has some fight in her. More than that, even; she's doing everything possible to work around the strength disadvantage: dodging blows where she can; turning them when she can't; only hard-blocking when she must; and counter-attacking only to break up her foe's momentum, rather than try to press a serious offensive of her own.
The memory of Akasha's fight with Ghirahim comes back to you, particularly that "third phase" where he was made entirely of living steel, and you can't help but wonder: how often does any vampire, much less one with the title of Dark Lord, get into a fight with a stronger opponent?
How often does she NEED to, in order to keep that vital edge of skill you're seeing put to the test in the Trial right now?
Your speculations are interrupted by a brief, faint, but very real burst of dark energy, leaping away from Akasha's arms as she redirects Link's latest blow.
The Sword Wave-delivered sealing is starting to wear off.
If she can keep this up just a little longer...
That flashing sign of Akasha's imminent recovery prompts a wave of low, eager murmurs from various parts of the audience. Some of it is anticipation that the Dark Lord is about to turn the fight around; some of it is encouragement for the Hero to finish his opponent off before that can happen; and some of it is just people enjoying the drama of a fight that isn't over yet.
Were you in Link's boots, this would be the point in the match where you stepped up the pace of your attacks, to try and take your opponent down before she regains her full strength and brings the fight back onto a more even footing.
*CLANG*
Instead, the Hero lands one more strong blow, once again driving Akasha back without breaking her guard - and then, rather than pursue her and keep the pressure on as he's been doing, Link falls back a step and holds the Master Sword out to his left, point down. There is a hum, low at first but rising steadily in pitch as energy begins to visibly gather about the blade.
Having already experienced some of what Link can do when he's given time to power up his weapon, and moreover, being close enough and slow enough just now that you can't give her good odds of dodging a standard Sword Beam - much less something like that massive Sword Wave - Akasha has only one recourse: close in, and try to spoil the technique before Link can finish it.
As the Dark Lord charges, you see Link shift his stance slightly. The hum cuts out, attack seemingly spoiled - but the Hero is smirking.
And you recognize that stance.
Link didn't have long enough to finish powering up a Sword Beam, but there's one other technique the Hero has always been associated with - and while it's MEANT to be performed with ki, it doesn't absolutely REQUIRE it. All you need is a good sword, a steady hand, and an above-average tolerance for dizziness.
"HIYAAAH!"
There's no whirl of flame, as you saw when Link summoned up the Sword Wave earlier, nor does the tip of the Master Sword carve a ring of blue light into the air around it, as is more common for this technique. There doesn't even seem to be a short-lived blast of wind spreading out in all directions, though that could just be the lack of tall grass or low-hanging smoke to provide an obvious visual cue.
But it's still a Spin Attack.
Gained Spin Attack F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
*CLANG-CRUNCH*
Akasha manages to get Bloodriver up in time to block, but she was barely holding Link off when it was just his Gauntlets and footwork adding power to his blows. With the added centrifugal force of the Spin Attack, and her own footing compromised by the hasty attack he suckered her into, she fails to stop this strike.
Bloodriver is knocked back.
The edge of the Master Sword bites into Akasha's cuirass at the level of her ribs.
Akasha's aura wells up as it did before, but instead of exploding out of control, it seems to COLLAPSE in on itself, disappearing from sight as quickly as it appeared.
The darkness staining the entire field is suddenly GONE.
And as the Master Sword flashes away from her, shards of blackened - wait, what?- metal flying free in its wake, Akasha doubles over with a choked-off cry of agony, clutching at her side.
You stare in shock. Not only did the Master Sword carve a gash THROUGH Akasha's cuirass, its touch turned the shining steel black as midnight, a dark stain that's spreading to the rest of that plate before your very eyes. Cracks are snaking through that blackened steel, and in their wake, the edges of the original breach are crumbling away, hard metal reduced to so many dusty flakes of... dried blood?
But that's not what has Moka leaping to her feet with a cry of alarm, Issa grabbing the arms of his seat so hard that - even with that partial seal his eldest put on him - they crack, or Kahlua covering her mouth as she and the rest of the vampires stare in shock.
Through Akasha's fingers, and spreading beneath her hand, you can see blood.
Blood that isn't stopping.
Swallowing her pain with a wordless noise of effort, Akasha straightens up enough to look down at her injury. She tilts her hand back slightly in the process, revealing the crimson smeared across her palm.
Snarling through clenched teeth, the vampire clamps down on her wound again and shoots Link and his blade a look so foul you half-expect the Goddesses to slap another censor on it.
The Hero actually backs up a step, swinging the Mirror Shield around into a guard position as if expecting another attack.
Akasha stares at her reflection for a moment, then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Yield," she hisses.
Link makes a noise of inquiry.
"I said, I yield," Akasha repeats. "I doubt I'm much stronger than a human woman right now, and I really have no desire to make my family watch me bleed out while you beat me around the battlefield."
Link dons a hurt expression.
"Don't give me that kind of look when I'm the one who's actually injured!" Akasha shakes her head. "How someone can be so annoying without saying a word..."
Link smirks. "It's a gift."
With that, the Trial ends.
When Akasha emerges from the Ring, she's back in her light dress - but she's still holding her left hand to her side, looking down as if expecting to see the wound there.
Under radically different circumstances, you might be tempted to welcome her to the club of Dark Lords Put to the Master Sword.
As it is, you just wince sympathetically, and applaud her on a good showing.
Is there something you want to say to Akasha here and now?
As a worried-looking Moka rushes down the arena steps in a less-than-entirely-dignified hurry to make sure her mother is alright, with Akua and Issa right behind her, you consider what you want to say regarding Akasha's Trials.
Alright, so what do we give the Dark Lord? And WOW, is that a phrase I never expected to use...
Beyond her eight back-to-back victories, three of those against some of the most powerful and/or legendary figures in Hyrule's entire history, you're particularly impressed by how hard Akasha managed to push Link, in spite of the Hero and his gear basically being built to wreck Dark Lords, and her own demonstrated vulnerability to the Master Sword's power to seal dark forces.
It's a phrase I never expected to HEAR you use, so we're even there.
With all those disadvantages, she still drove Link to the point where he felt the need to use a Bottle of Blue Potion before continuing the fight. That's really impressive - especially when you consider that, unlike a certain Demon King, Akasha took Link on sight unseen, with no more idea of his capabilities than he had of hers.
I don't think it would be wise to give her anything that would protect her from holy power.
You try to put the whole thing in perspective for your audience, without coming across as condescending or too eager to make excuses - or, given Navi's presence, insensitive.
Yeah, that seems like the sort of thing the locals would raise a stink about.
Gained King of Fairies C
Gained King of Monsters C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Oratory D (Plus)
Gained Wise King E (Plus)
How about something to protect her from water, then?
On the whole, you think you do fairly well, given the mixed crowd.
More doable, since that's one of my domains.
...you DO get into a bit of an argument with Ambrose when you compare the Master Sword to Excalibur, though. He seems to consider Arthur's sword the superior of the two, and given what you know of the wizard, you can't exactly blame him for that opinion.
Plus you can just tell that the Kid-King is going to make that kind of thing for the whole family eventually, anyway.
On the other hand, you remember what it feels like to get stabbed by the Master Sword. As far as you're concerned, there is no comparison - not that you mention this aloud, or have ANY desire WHATSOEVER to be poked with Excalibur.
One of the best things about Power is that it lets you do nice things for your friends.
Your scientific curiosity has its limits.
And the other best thing about Power is that it lets you do bad things to your enemies?
While you and the wizard are arguing over whose holy sword is better, Elder Terok steps forth to present Akasha with her prize.
Exactly.
It's a small ring, similar to the one Cordelia earned from her Trials, but with a blue stone bearing the Crest of Nayru. Its aura is a mix of Abjuration, Necromancy, and Water Elementalism, threaded through with divine power rather than crafted from "pure" arcane energy.
Looking at the item resting on her palm, Akasha tells Elder Terok that she's grateful, but she doesn't customarily wear rings, as they're a bit too easy to break.
The old priest chuckles and assures her that "good craftsGoronship" is made to stand up to serious punishment, and then explains what the Ring of Nayru's Blessing actually DOES.
"...then again, there's nothing wrong with a change of style every now and then," Akasha says quickly, as she slips the ring on her right hand.
Then she wraps that arm around Moka - who was careful not to "aggravate" her mother's "injury" on her left side when she hugged her, but is definitely being more clingy than is normal for her - enfolds Akua with the other arm - to the older girl's embarrassed protests - and eyes Issa for a moment until he takes the hint and puts his left arm around Akasha's shoulders.
You take a call for further guests who wish to challenge the Ring of Trials, but whether because you've exhausted your pool of willing participants, or simply because nobody feels like trying to follow up on the spectacle of a Dark Lord and a Hero going at it, you find no volunteers.
"Then with that," you say formally, "I declare these Trials concluded."
Elder Terok raps the butt of his staff on the nearest stone surface. "Praise Din!"
"Praise Nayru!" Madam Lanora calls out.
"Done at la- I mean, praise Farore!" Koron adds.
And that is that.
When you take stock of your mana reserves a moment later, you conclude that it's just as well. You're down to about a fifth of your maximum capacity.
Those Mana Gems and Spring Dew Potions are looking awfully tempting right now...
It goes against your established habits to let yourself walk around with so little energy in the tank, but for once, you quell your instincts.
For one thing, you've got plenty of restoratives on hand. If a situation DOES arise where you need more magic than you currently have on tap, you can deal with it then.
For another... frankly, you could use the chance to relax.
If there's ever been a time and a place where it was safe for you to NOT be walking around with enough magical firepower under the hood to take on a small army or level an entire block, Bali Ha'i is IT. If you can't chill out and stop thinking tactically and strategically HERE, of all the places on Earth, you're probably never going to be able to.
And that doesn't say good things about your mental health prospects in the long term.
After all, even the Gerudo needed time to unwind after a hard campaign.
...which is arguably part of the reason why Ganondorf switched over to using monsters, but that is BESIDES the point, which is that taking a break every now and then is GOOD for you.
Speaking of breaks, though, you pause to check the time.
Nine after three, huh?
A couple more hours until dinner, then, which will be followed by the other big event of the day: namely, the presents.
You're rather looking forward to that, even though you're highly unlikely to get anything quite as impressive as a Heart Container out of it.
As your guests begin to make their way out of the Ring of Trials, you recall a resolution you made earlier, and cast the Spell of the Message to let Cordelia and the priests know that you'd like to talk to all of them once the crowd has cleared out.
Cordelia and Koron give you a pair of curious looks, while Elder Terok harrumphs and Madam Lanora merely nods her agreement.
"Going to talk about options for her curse?" Shadow Alex inquires.
"It's probably overdue," you admit.
"The Goddesses did just give her the Ring of Curse Resistance."
"Yeah, but what's that saying? 'Treating the symptoms and not the disease?'" You shake your head. "Don't get me wrong, I think the Ring was a great gift. It buys time, and limits how badly that curse can hurt Cordy. But it doesn't stop it. That's going to be on us."
"And her," Shadow Alex points out.
"And her," you agree.
Weren't you JUST thinking to yourself about the need to take a break?
So much for that idea, you guess.
...although, you think then, slowly looking towards Shadow Alex, you DO have your not-evil twin still hanging around.
You could make him handle this part, couldn't you?
"You have the look of a guy who's about to take advantage of someone for his own ends," Shadow Alex says. Then he grins. "I like that look, Other Me."
Then again, looking your alter-ego over, you're once again struck by his slight pallor, and the dark smudges under his eyes. Given what you experienced of his memories - the drive to achieve personal power, and through it security and prosperity for himself and his family; the sacrifice of "unnecessary" or "trivial" things from his everyday life in the name of that pursuit; the always-dangerous, ever-stressful hunting down of enemies, be they mortal, monstrous, and demonic - it can safely be said that if YOU could use a chance to unwind, Shadow Alex probably needs a year-long sabbatical.
"...and that's a look that I'm not so sure about," your alter-ego adds, frowning slightly.
On second thought - or possibly third - you decide that you should handle this part yourself.
After all, you called the meeting; it'd be rude not to show up in person, and even if Shadow Alex went disguised as the real your, the priests would likely notice anyway. You suspect that would annoy Elder Terok a bit, and it would definitely get on Cordelia's nerves.
Quite aside from all of that, you probably shouldn't be encouraging your darker side's workaholic tendencies, particularly not after you called him out on taking them too far during your Final Trial.
With that mind in, you tell Shadow Alex to take a break, reasoning that he needs it even more than you do.
And to make sure he actually tries to relax, instead of sneaking off to do something "productive," you call on Zelda and tell her she's in charge of making sure Shadow Alex has fun.
Shadow Alex shoots you a look of betrayal before the cheering Zelda grabs his hand and drags him off, babbling something about sandcastles.
Several fairies tag along to help.
"You'll have fun and you'll like it!"
"Yeah, take it easy, or else!"
"...or else what?"
"Exactly!"
Though you do use the word "help" loosely.
It takes a while for the Ring to clear out. Most of your guests appear glad for the chance to stretch their legs without having to worry about missing any of the now-ended show, but several seem content to keep their seats for the moment, while others are drifting into conversation - mostly about the Trials, you figure, though maybe not entirely. Some of the younger or just more curious members of the audience seem to be taking the opportunity to explore the Ring, and a few are drifting your way, clearly intent on having a word or three.
Some of those catch sight of Zelda dragging Shadow Alex away and either mistake him for you, figure that he's as good a source of answers to their questions as you are, or else just find him new and interesting enough to want to chat with on his own merits. Whatever their motives, three or four souls peel off.
You handle the remainder easily enough-
"Are you going to be doing this again next year?" Sokka asks seriously. "I ask because, if I'm going to defend my boomerang crown against that guy in green, I'll need to do some serious training over the next year."
-although-
"Can I get a rematch with that ghost?" Ichigo asks.
-you do notice a certain trend-
"Be sure to let us know in advance if you're planning to include something like this at your next party," Lucia advises. "I'll want to be in top form when I run into that black knight again."
"I thought I already avenged you," Arthur says.
"And you were wonderful, dear," Lucia replies, standing on her toes to kiss her husband's cheek. "But some things, a girl likes to do for herself."
-in their inquiries.
You fend off those inquiries for the time being by stating that you'll need to check with the priests to see if you're even allowed to set up another Ring of Trials for your next party, to say nothing of whether or not the place you hold said party will be able to support such a construct.
You COULD just designate Bali Ha'i your official birthday destination, but you're fairly sure that would impose some restrictions on the existing Ring of Trials - mostly that anybody who's already beaten it won't be able to win the same prize a second time, even if they end up facing a different and/or more dangerous set of challenges.
In any case, it's a matter for later.
You link up with Cordy and the priests, and since the Ring isn't entirely clear of potential listeners, you lead the small group out onto the beach, and away from the crowd.
Once you're out of eavesdropping range, Cordelia holds up the hand wearing her new magic ring. "So, what I took away from before is that this isn't a fix for my problem, just a way to make it a little less awful when it finally wakes up." She pauses, and looks at the priests. "Speaking of which, is there a way to tell when that might be?"
"None that I think we want to use just now," Elder Terok replies.
"What makes you say that?"
His cane points at you. "The boy here could call up a servant of the Goddesses powerful enough to commune with them directly and get a few answers regarding your problem - and WITHOUT the interference from the locals HE got the last time he tried that. Not being one of the faithful, you'd have to pay for that service, and as you're under a divine curse, anyone poking at it will be setting themselves up for divine retribution."
"Let me guess," Cordelia says with a mirthless smile. "That costs extra."
The Goron nods. "Now, I understand that you're from a well-off family, and have a profitable enough little trade venture of your own going besides, that you could likely cover that. But." He raises a hand, one finger extended in warning. "Ask yourself this: do you really want to give whatever god cursed you such a clear warning that other godly powers are not only aware of what it did, but are also looking into it?"
"...no," Cordelia admits.
"Is there a way around that?" you ask. "I mean, we're going to have to investigate that curse eventually, but if its creator is going to be aware of any magic used on it..."
"Holy ground," Madam Lanora says simply, looking from you to Cordelia. "If the intercession takes place in an area that's already constantly suffused with the power and presence of the Goddesses, it'll help to mute the signature of any other uses of their power."
"The big Ring doesn't count?" Cordelia asks, waving back in the direction of the Ring of Trials.
"No."
"Of course, that'd be too easy."
"It would," Koron agrees with a faint grin. Then he sobers. "Unfortunately, we can't create a temple to the Goddesses. We're not from this world, and we don't have any claim on it. More than that, we're DEAD; you need a living representative of the Goddesses to properly invoke their power."
"No pressure," you sigh.
It sounds like future progress regarding breaking Cordelia's curse hinges entirely on you completing your study of divine magic. If that's the case, this conversation can't really go any further right now.
Given the direction the conversation went, you ask the three priests what the requirements would be for creating the first temple dedicated to the Golden Goddesses on another world, and how they'd differ from creating one in a place with an established clergy.
"We're breaking new ground here, lad," Elder Terok tells you. "For the Goddesses as well as the faithful. Lanora hasn't just been visiting all those other priests to sate her own intellectual curiosity; she's been investigating how their faiths handle important matters like creating places of worship, and comparing those methods against our own."
"At the moment," Madam Lanora says, stressing the phrase, "it looks like all you'll need to do is finish getting up to speed on miracle-making, and then build, dedicate, and hallow the temple the way we'd have done it in Hyrule." She smiles wryly. "Being one of Din's gives you an advantage followers of Nayru or Farore wouldn't have. We'd have to call on the Goddesses to do the work, and the local rules against divine interference would tangle us up neatly. Even a demigod or reincarnate deity would get caught in that mess. But those rules don't forbid mortals from using their own power; they seem to assume that no mortal would HAVE that kind of power, which... says rather unfortunate things about this world's history."
You consider all that - the implication that you just need to build the place, cast the Spell of Hallowing, and be done with it; the further implication that this is something no common priest of the Goddesses, or even Zelda herself, could pull off without falling into a celestial bureaucratic snare - and despite the sense of satisfaction involved, you find yourself raising one hand, as a sense of dread wells up from within.
"When you say 'temple'..." you venture slowly.
"Oh, nothing so grand as the Temples of Trial," Elder Terok huffs, waving off that concern. "Those are the work of decades for the entire organized clergy. Asking you to build one on your own would just be ridiculous."
Whew. Dodged an arrow, there.
"But it is going to be quite the project all the same," the old Goron goes on. "The fine details will depend on where, exactly, you end up deciding to build it, but a structure about the size of your house is probably the minimum. Stone construction, of course."
"Of course," Koron sighs.
"We've been over this, sprite. Wood burns and breaks too easily, and there's too many locals who'd be willing to light the spark or lend an axe. A good solid stone wall, backed by the right wards, will be a lot safer."
"I know, I know." The Kokiri shoots you a look. "But it IS going to have a garden, right?"
"And a fountain," Madam Lanora adds.
On a completely different topic, you ask the priests if they have any advice for strengthening Bali Ha'i's ward against evil intent, or if you should just talk to the ghosts of the local shamans about that.
"Talk to the ghosts," Terok replies. "Or better yet, let Lanora do it."
The Zora glances at her counterpart curiously.
"You DID want the boy to introduce you to scholars and magic-users of his acquaintance," the Goron points out. "I'd say they count."
"...this is true," Lanora admits.
"Besides," Koron adds, "this sounds like it was a bigger job than anything the three of us ever had to deal with in life, and they came at it from a completely different tradition. I wouldn't even know where to begin."
While you definitely want to make this temple worthy of all three Goddesses, you're wary of making promises you may not be able to keep.
You've seen some of those home renovation shows on TV - and perhaps more relevantly, you've seen Home Improvement. Overestimating one's abilities and trying to do too much has been the downfall of more than one do-it-yourselfer, and you'd prefer not to join their ranks.
It's one thing when you screw up repairs on your own house. It's quite another when you're trying to build a site dedicated to your divine patrons, who could be anything from amused to upset by your mistakes and shortcomings.
As long as they were genuinely funny...
As such, you tell Lanora and Koron that you're going to hold off on making decisions like that until you pick out a site, and see what you have to work with.
This is perfectly reasonable.
But you do promise to keep their suggestions in mind when you're selecting the location where this temple will stand.
And so is this.
The two priests are a little disappointed, but accept your decision.
On the face of it, having one summoned being take care of a conversation for you so that you can kick back and relax, mere minutes after you'd decided not to do that with a different summon, might appear... inconsistent.
But you chose not to get Shadow Alex involved in this discussion for three reasons: first, it was something you'd already taken a measure of responsibility for; second, the other parties involved would have been annoyed if you hadn't bothered to attend this meeting after being the one to call it; and third, Shadow Alex has some bad habits you didn't want to encourage.
Absolutely none of those factors are involved now. Your interest in restoring Bali Ha'i's protective barriers is currently just a personal curiosity, which no promises have been made or implied for; likewise, it's not a topic you've even broached with the returned spirits of the island shamans, so there's no offense to be taken from your involvement, or lack thereof.
And finally, Madam Lanora isn't Shadow Alex. You've gotten to know her well enough over the last several months of lessons to say that she isn't prone to overworking herself or her students; indeed, being a soul that's passed beyond the veil of mortality, odds she can't BE overworked anymore, at least not the way a living body and mind can.
Plus, as Elder Terok noted, arranging meetings between her and foreign magic-users is something she quite literally ASKED you to do.
As such, you have no compunctions about letting your Nayrian tutor handle the inquiry into Bali Ha'i's artificial defenses on your behalf.
You've previously discussed the idea of having Cordelia become a follower of the Golden Goddesses as a means of dealing with her curse, but since you have her and your experts here in one place and are already discussing the issue, you decide to bring it up again, just to make sure everybody is on the same page about it.
The priests agree that having Cordelia officially convert would make it easier and "more legal" for the Goddesses to intervene on her behalf regarding some other god's curse. They also confirm that, aside from that sleeping curse, Cordelia doesn't currently bear any sign of a divine influence in her life. That tallies with the investigation she's done into this matter on her own time, which indicated that she was never baptized.
Speaking of which, Cordy has a few things to say about THAT particular decision by her parents. Sure, it's convenient NOW, since it means she won't have to worry about being declared excommunicate or a heretic or anything like that when she takes up a new faith. But given the verifiable FACT that gods are real and the rites performed in their name can and do offer real power and protection, for a family that lives on the Hellmouth to NOT get their kid even that small defense against the darkness is the sort of thing that ought to count as child neglect or endangerment.
That aside, you now know that all Cordelia requires to officially convert is a living, ordained priest to welcome her into the faith - or a properly-recognized Chosen One who can stand in for that role.
Again, no pressure.
Before you call an end to this little pow-wow and escort Madam Lanora to meet the island shamans, you turn to Elder Terok and affect an innocent smile.
"I don't like that look, boy," he warns you. "What are you scheming?"
"Nothing at all, Elder. I was just wondering... how has your date been going?"
All eyes turn slowly to the Goron.
The Dinnite regards you for a moment, and then says, "Lad, consider this your first lesson from me: a gentleGoron never tells. Especially not when the lady is a volcano."
"Oh-ho!" Lanora chortles, clapping her hands.
"But Alex isn't a Goron," Koron points out in confusion.
"Artifact of the language," the Zoran woman says dismissively. "More importantly, not telling means that something GOOD happened! Oh, I can't wait to tell the girls about this! They'll never believe it!"
Elder Terok gives a rumbling sigh, shaking his head at his counterpart's antics. "I'm leaving now," he announces, as he immediately starts walking away.
"But I don't get it," Koron complains.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Vert says.
"You've been saying that for centuries!"
"And it's still funny!"
...this is probably your cue to take Lanora to meet the shamans, and then rejoin the party at large.
You decide to do that.
With Elder Terok's departure having brought an end to your little pow-wow, the rest of the participants go their own ways. While Koron and Vert head for the forest, the Kokiri still grumbling about age discrimination between partners, the rest of you make your way back down the beach to rejoin the rest of the guests. Cordelia leaves you, Lanora, and Briar fairly soon after that, saying something about meeting up with Amy and "some of the other girls" for an afternoon swim.
You spend a little time tracking down the shamans and introducing them to Madam Lanora, explaining her general interest in learning about Earth's magical traditions, and the more specific curiosity about Bali Ha'i's magical boundary. It doesn't take much to get the ghosts talking, and once you've discharged your responsibility as the host, you leave them and Lanora to it, and go in search of a certain vampire princess.
You find Kahlua and her sisters in the midst of trying to set up temporary living accommodations for their new companions.
Moka's new pet dog Cinnamon is easy enough, just needing a spare blanket or two borrowed from her bed. Kokoa's new fairy partner can look after herself, although going by what you overhear from where the two of them have their heads together, they're in the middle of designing another fairy-sized house for Thistle to call her own.
It's the two monster bats that are the problem. Adjusting the lights to be more comfortable for their nocturnally-adapted eyes is a simple matter of removing some of the ornate candlesticks that are the main source of illumination in the Gothically-styled Magnificent Mansion, but there's nowhere the two of them can properly hang to relax, at least not without causing... certain issues, due to their not yet being housebroken. They also can't simply be left to fly free at night: Briar and Thistle are both insistent on that; Kokoa supports the two of them with only a bit of reluctance; and the adult Shuzens agree that it would be a problem if Akua or Kahlua's new pets tried to eat one of Navi's children at your party.
...do you think we should have included cages or carriers?
Malbec and Merlot do their best to look innocent, fluffy, and completely bewildered by the suggestion that they might attack a fairy.
Given their origins, you have your doubts about their sincerity.
From the way Briar starts talking to Thistle about "borrowing" her partner's martial arts training through the familiar bond-
"You can DO that?!" Kokoa exclaims.
"Training helps use it properly," Briar replies, "but yeah, I started out by borrowing Alex's moves."
The littlest vampire squeals in delight. "Best familiar EVER!"
-she shares your suspicions.
The bats, incidentally, regard the subsequent impromptu kung fu lesson with a touch of worry.
Also, when you do start chatting with Kahlua, is there any particular topic you'd like to pursue beyond just a general discussion of the Trials? Remember, you ARE trying to take it easy for this visit.
Although only Kahlua, Akua, and their bats really need to be involved, you end up bringing all four sisters and Moka's puppy along with you for a session of island arts and crafts. As your little group leaves the Shuzen apartments, Briar and Thistle take off in different directions, the former to look for Zelda and see if she's interested in joining in, the latter going in search of the island ghosts to see if there are any basket-weavers or similar craftsmen among them.
Making your way to the trees, you ask the girls for their thoughts about the Trials.
Kahlua and Akua both want to know if they'll be able to face Volvagia again on this visit: the elder sister wants a chance to properly fight the dragon, rather than having to concede before the battle even starts; and the younger just wants a rematch.
You reply that you honestly don't know if the Ring of Trials can be set up to provide specific opponents; that's something you'd have to check with the priests about.
"But even if it was possible," you add, "you'd still be fighting Volvagia in its lair."
"I could finish the fight before that became a problem," Akua says confidently.
There is a pause, and all three of the other Shuzen girls turn to Kahlua, their expressions half-expectant, half-surprised.
Kahlua bites her lower lip and refuses to make eye contact with any of them.
"...no?" Akua asks with some surprise.
"It was VERY hot and hard to breathe in there, Elder Sister," Kahlua replies seriously. "Particularly as the fight went on. And what would you do if the dragon stayed in the air or underground?"
Akua considers that, and then her right hand, with a frown. As she stretches out her arm, you can almost see her mind working, comparing the dimensions of the volcanic chamber and the speed of the Subterranean Lava Dragon to the extent of her reach - leaping attacks included, no doubt - and finding that the latter comes up somewhat short.
"...aiya," she sighs, letting her hand fall. "Maybe I should work on hitting at range before I challenge the beast..."
"Can you do that?" Moka wonders.
"They say that the Great and Honorable Touhou Fuhai, who created that technique, can use it to strike a foe down from beyond the reach of his arm, so I know it's POSSIBLE..."
...it appears that you have indirectly given the eldest of the Shuzen sisters motivation to make her already awesomely deadly special technique even MORE dangerous.
Go you?
"Rematches with Volvagia aside," you say then, "what would you say your favorite Trials were?"
"Father beating the dragon," Kahlua says immediately.
Akua nods. "Yes. That was a very satisfying match." She pauses. "At least until he got blood-drunk at the end."
"...that was a little embarrassing, yes," Kahlua admits.
Kokoa giggles, and then sing-songs, "Da-ddy's in trou-ble~!"
...technically, that wasn't a "rematch," so you suppose it counts.
Glancing at Moka, you ask her if that was her favorite bout as well.
"It was a good match," Moka replies, "but I'm not sure I would say it was my favorite."
"One of your mother's?" Akua guesses with a slight smile. "She was VERY impressive."
"...no," Moka reluctantly admits. "Mother's fights were impressive, but... frightening."
Kokoa shivers. "Yeah. Those shiny arrows and that sword... scary!"
Kahlua appears to agree wholeheartedly, and even Akua winces as she recalls the Light Arrows and the Master Sword in action.
You get the impression it wasn't the presence of the sacred weapons in some of Akasha's battles that's troubling Moka - or at least, not ONLY that.
High-tier regeneration or no, it can't have been easy to see her mother taking some of those hits.
You can't help but sympathize with Moka. Even if your mother had the sort of martial skills and regenerative abilities that Akasha does, you still wouldn't like to see her taking hits of the kind the Dark Lord did in her Trials, much less talk about it so soon afterwards.
So you offer the younger Shuzen an out. "If not those, then what was your favorite match?"
Moka glances at you, and then half-smiles. "Well, Moblin's Trials were certainly entertaining to watch, and I very much enjoyed winning Cinnamon-"
She glances down at the puppy tagging along at her heel.
Too young and unfamiliar with his new name to respond to the sound of it being spoken, the Hylian retriever nonetheless barks happily at his new mistress's attention.
Moka's smile warms.
"-but if I had to pick just one bout," she continues, "I would have to say Mr. Kurosaki's Final Trial was my favorite."
"Huh?" Kokoa exclaims. "But it was so boring! I could have beaten him AND the guy that came out of the Mirror!" She pauses, frowning. "What was with that, anyway?"
"Ah, but that question is why Moka liked the fight, Little Sister," Akua says sagely. "The mystery. Where and why did a seemingly-ordinary human learn to use a sword in a killing style? Why did he fall out of practice at it? And why was it, when he faced a magic mirror that had so far only created dark reflections of the people who looked into it, it created a different sort of being entirely?"
Moka nods. "All true. But it was also very sweet, how Mr. Kurosaki gave his prize to his wife afterwards."
"So romantic," Kahlua sighs.
Akua smiles in tolerant amusement. "I suppose it was, at that."
Kokoa makes a gagging sound and sticks out her tongue. "Ugh. Mushy stuff."
Then she makes a choking sound as Kahlua sweeps her up in a one-armed hug.
"You'll understand when you're older, Kokoa."
"Don't... wanna..."
You ponder your response.
"It's a tough choice," you openly reflect. "There were a lot of high points to choose from, all for different reasons. But the one that's really stuck in my head was when Mr. Drake pulled out the machine gun. That was straight out of left field."
Moka and Kahlua regard you for a moment, then trade glances.
"Boys," they chorus in resigned amusement.
"Now, now," Akua says. "There is something to be said for the tactical value of surprise, particularly when it comes in company with heavy firepower."
Further discussion on this subject has to be tabled, as this is the point where you reach the treeline and start looking for raw materials to try making bat-cages (or at least perches) out of.
Malbec and Merlot take the opportunity to fly up into the canopy, picking out particularly shaded branches to roost on, out of the light of the afternoon sun.
You note the type of tree the two bats picked out, and have collected a few fallen branches and given them an experimental flex or two when Thistle returns, accompanied by one of the female members of Ekewaka's island chorus. The woman - who gives her name as Kala - takes one look at your collection and explains that wood from this type of tree doesn't make good building material; it's too rigid, prone to splitting and splintering, and suffers from dry rot besides.
She guides you to a different tree, from which you've harvested a few bits and pieces when Briar shows up, followed by Zelda, Moblin, your Shadow, the Kurosaki siblings, and the three youngest Hayashis.
Things get a little confused at that point, but you eventually manage to get the younger girls settled.
Getting Moblin and Cinnamon to stop trying to run off with some of your selected building materials takes a bit longer, and in the end, Moka volunteers to keep the dogs distracted, taking a couple of sticks and leading them both away from the group.
The rest of you settle in to work, guided by your thankfully more corporeal than not instructor.
The Shuzen girls have clearly never tried to make anything with their own hands before, and the amount of accidentally torn, shredded, snapped, or otherwise ruined bits of bark, wood, and long grass piling up around the three of them quickly becomes a bit silly.
With Thistle's guidance, Kokoa is doing a little better than her oldest sisters, but not exceptionally so.
Ichigo is equally at a loss. He's not breaking his materials like the vampires do - he doesn't have the kind of strength that turns the accidents and frustration of first-time craftsmen into a pressing need to hunt down replacement parts - he just has no earthly idea how to make anything of them.
Zelda and his sisters aren't doing any better, but the very fact that he can't do better than girls half a decade his junior - particularly not when two of them are his little sisters, who he's supposed to be setting a good example for - seems to sting Ichigo's pride.
The Hayashis, on the other hand, clearly have experience with this kind of thing: Mio and Miu are turning out little friendship bracelets of grass and flowers at a fairly rapid pace; and Emiko is paying close attention to what Kala says and does, and has the makings of a perch already forming. She's taken one branch, trimmed it of its leaves and extraneous bits, and somehow bent it to form a vertical arch.
You can sense her youki flowing smoothly through the wood, encouraging its shape to change and hold the new form. The signature is too similar to what you sensed from her leaf shurikens for it NOT to be connected to her family's Hidden Leaf Style.
"That's cheating," Kokoa protests sourly.
"This is the result of years of practice," Emiko retorts shamelessly.
"...still cheating," the littlest vampire grumbles, just before something snaps in her grip.
You look at the results of your own efforts. You're doing better than Ichigo or the vampires, but this is still the first time you've tried working wood and other plant materials with your bare hands, and it shows.
Gained Wood Affinity E
Shadow Alex isn't doing any better or worse than you are. When he notices you noticing this, he grumbles defensively, "I just use magic. It's quicker."
Eh, fair.
While you work, you inquire of the Shuzens how the manifested spirit of their family Castle has been since your last visit.
Akua pauses in her faltering efforts with the wood and slowly turns to regard you with narrowed, violet eyes.
"Oh, that's right," the eldest sister says. "They did say that YOU were responsible for that little menace."
You blink at this unexpected show of displeasure from the older vampire girl, and the accompanying giggles from Kahlua and Kokoa.
You have to side with the kitsune on this one. If she's gone to all the trouble of learning how to create tools and items out of naturally-occuring materials, she has every right to use those skills in this little impromptu arts and crafts session.
After all, it's not like anybody explicitly forbade using powers; you personally just decided not to use your magic, and nobody else appears to HAVE any relevant skills in this field.
...although, now that you've seen Emiko's latest secret technique in action, it's inspired you to try something similar with your ki.
Has Lu-sensei not told you in training that ki can be used to enhance any of your natural abilities?
Are humans not, by nature, tool-using and tool-MAKING creatures?
Do you not have a technique for infusing ki into inanimate objects?
Setting aside the bundle of sticks, bark strips, and grass you were working on, you take up a single piece of wood - about seven inches in length, not counting the various bends and knots, more of an ambitious twig than a proper branch - and hold it before you with both hands, studying it keenly with more than just your eyes.
"Alex, what-" Kahlua begins, before someone shushes her.
In emulation of what you saw Emiko doing, you extend your ki into the twig, feeling the shape and structure of the thing, inside as well as out.
And when you think you have a grasp on it, you start bending the stick with your hands.
It flexes.
It creaks.
But with your ki flowing through it, working to strengthen the bonds between the once-living cells of the tiny wooden limb, it doesn't break.
Instead, slowly, slightly, and straining for every fraction of an inch, it bends.
Gained Wood-
*SNAP*
You start in surprise at the sudden sound of wood breaking - which DIDN'T come from your stick, and is all the more startling because you were half-expecting to hear the like - and look to Kokoa, who is holding the splintered, SMOKING ends of a somewhat larger stick, and is covered with bits of bark and ash besides.
Kokoa spits out some of the debris and shoots the ruined sticks in her grasp a dirty look. "Stupid wood..."
You've noticed before that, for all their natural skill at channeling their youki through their own bodies, vampires generally aren't very good at manipulating it at range; Gyokuro and Akasha's respective performances in the Trials were the first real indication you had that they could utilize external techniques at all; and even then, it's questionable just how "external" Akasha's tricks were, seeing as how they relied on using her flesh and blood as a medium.
You have to wonder if this is just more of the same, or if there's a specific incompatibility between vampiric youki and wood.
That blast was pretty violent, after all.
While Kahlua fusses over her youngest sibling, you refocus your attention on your experiment.
Gained Woodworking E (Plus) (Plus)
"And what's he done to be called a 'menace,' anyhow?" you add, before Akua can respond to your first statement.
Kahlua and Kokoa promptly giggle.
Akua shoots the two of them a glare that is approximately half-sulk - and then her eyes widen, and her head turns in the direction Moka took the dogs, looking chagrined.
You have a feeling that Moka heard your question, courtesy of vampire hearing, and that the three younger Shuzen girls are united in a laugh at the eldest sister's expense.
"It is not funny," Akua says shortly, in what is now DEFINITELY a sulk.
"It kind of is," Kahlua disagrees. Then she turns to the rest of the audience, and explains. "You see, Akua is a student of Youjutsu - the Monster Arts, more or less a monster-specific form of magic - and since she's living with us, now, she needed a place to practice her techniques where she wouldn't accidentally blow out a load-bearing wall or shred one of the staff."
You, Shadow Alex, and Emiko all nod your understanding.
The younger girls, and Ichigo, regard the lot of you with surprise.
"It's THAT dangerous?" Ichigo asks.
"There are reasons why I practice magic in a room in another dimension, or out in the middle of nowhere," you tell him honestly. "One well-placed Fireball would wreck my house."
Although if you're being COMPLETELY honest, one Fireball would clear out your Mirror Hideaway even easier, no matter where it was aimed.
On a related note, you are DEFINITELY looking forward to the day when you've mastered the Lesser Spell to Create a Demiplane. Just having the space to cast some of your more violent or larger-scale spells will be a great boon all on its own, never mind all the other uses you have in mind for your own private pocket reality.
"There is a training hall at the Castle set aside for that sort of thing," Kahlua continues, "but it hadn't been used in decades, and the wards needed to be recharged. Akua was doing that when the Castle noticed the energy she was using, and got... curious."
Fortunately, all of your guests have either met Castle Shuzen's genius loci in person, or heard about its existence, so none of them derail the conversation in confusion at this point.
...you're a little surprised that the islander, Kala, doesn't have that sort of reaction, but then again, she IS a former native of Bali Ha'i. While you're not exactly sure WHEN the woman lived and died, what little you know of the island's history suggests that even the latter-day locals would have at least had a cultural reference for the idea of place-spirits.
"And by 'curious,'" Akua interrupts, with a note of distinct annoyance, "she means the little pest popped out of the floor right behind me while I was in the middle of a ritual!"
You wince at that. Surprising a practitioner while they're channeling the energies of a ritual usually ends poorly for somebody - invariably the practitioner, though not always JUST them.
So Akua DOES have a legitimate reason to be annoyed with Castle Shuzen's spirit, at least.
You regard Akua seriously, and ask, "Did he want a hug?"
...
Violet eyes blink twice, slowly, before the brief pause is broken by Kahlua's renewed laughter.
"I... don't think so?" Akua replies in clear confusion, as she looks from you to the oldest of her younger sisters, and then back again. "It was just standing there, leaning forward a bit like it was trying to see what I was doing, but not..." She stops and shakes her head, side-tails bouncing slightly. "Does it... actually do that to people other than Lady Bloodriver?"
"Mostly just him," Kokoa says, pointing at you.
And now Akua looks suspicious again.
"So," you say briskly, "how bad was it?"
"...not that bad," Akua admits after a beat. "My teacher made sure I could work through surprise safely, and the wards on the training room WERE designed to absorb and suppress random bursts of youki. At the worst, the backlash would have drained my strength, knocked me out, and forced me to start over from scratch once I'd recovered; as it was, I managed to complete the activation ritual with only some loss of energy. But it is the PRINCIPLE of the thing!" she stresses.
You nod, completely understanding where she's coming from. Sure, nothing bad happened THIS time, but if Akua is going to be practicing magic in the room in question for the foreseeable future, she can't have the Castle's spiritual avatar popping in unexpectedly whenever it feels like it. That's just asking for one or the other of them to get hurt.
"Did Miss Akasha talk to him about that sort of thing?" you ask.
You expect she has - it would be irresponsible to do otherwise, and Akasha has never struck you as irresponsible - but if by some chance she didn't, you're prepared to agree to do so.
"She did, but I don't know how well it stuck." Akua scowls, more in frustration than anger. "It is very difficult to read a spirit of that nature."
You don't know if you'd say it was "difficult." DIFFERENT, certainly, but you thought you had a pretty good read on the little guy... then again, you do have something of an advantage there, and not just because of your array of supernatural senses. You've dealt with other elemental entities before, even taken on their form, and on top of that, there's that thread of golden Power giving you something uniquely in common with the little guy.
"'specially when it hasn't got a face," Kokoa agrees.
"Even if it did have a face, that would be unlikely to help," Akua tells her youngest sibling frankly.
"Eh? Why not?"
"When you see an elemental, place-spirit, or item-spirit walking around, you are not seeing its true form, Little Sister. You are only seeing the form it assumes to interact with beings like us. Its REAL form is its original one: a part of the land or sea or sky; a hundred-year-old sword; a castle. Those things do not think and feel the way we do, and they do not show their thoughts and feelings the way we do. What they SHOW us is only mimicry - an act, based on their perceptions of our behaviors."
Kokoa frowns. "So... they're lying?"
"Some of them probably are," Akua admits. "Though I do not think your Little Castle is one of those. It IS Castle Shuzen, and it has been home to your family-"
"Our family," Kahlua cuts in gently.
"-our father's family," Akua says after a moment, "for a long time. They built it, they dwelt in it, they protected and maintained it, they fought and laughed and LIVED in it. To be the family's home and stronghold is the Castle's purpose, and it is undoubtedly happiest when fulfilling that purpose."
PART of its purpose, anyway. From Issa's own account, the Castle was originally built on top of Dracula's sealed and sleeping not-quite-a-corpse, to keep people from poking at the thing, and with that body destroyed, the Castle's original purpose is lost...
...hmmm. Come to think of it, that loss of purpose could be making the little guy uncomfortable. Maybe you should investigate that?
You make a mental note to bring this matter to the attention of Gyokuro, Issa, and Akasha before the party ends, whether that's later this afternoon, this evening, or some time tomorrow.
It's nothing urgent. Castle Shuzen's genius loci has been active and manifest since October; if it were really unhappy about no longer having a Dark Lord's undead and dreaming corpse chained up in the basement, the residents would surely have noticed by now. Still, it is a factor that could influence the young spirit's behavior, now or in the future, and you owe your friend's family the simple courtesy of a heads-up.
Later.
Right now, you'd rather get a more complete picture of what the Castle's spirit has been up to in your absence, besides springing a surprise audience on Akua.
As it turns out, the eldest Shuzen sister is not the first person to gain that sort of attention from the little elemental. All of the household staff and security personnel have reported meeting him during their rounds at least once by now, and the assorted guests the Shuzens have entertained since the Castle woke up have received similar visitations.
Most of the time, the spirit just watches what the monsters are doing for a few minutes, before melding into the floor or a wall and disappearing, but a few times, he's tried to join in.
The vehicular security patrols move too quickly for him to keep up, and he either can't or just won't ride along with them - some of the guards have offered, it seems - but various foot patrols have ended up with an extra member trundling along in their wake, looking a heck of a lot like a kid playing soldier or something. At other times, they've reported seeing the spirit roving the grounds alone with the same sort of posture, sometimes following the established security routes, at others venturing off seemingly at random.
There was an incident a couple of weeks ago where he tried to "help" some of the maids with the laundry, which ended with a lot of soapy water on the floor, several damaged articles of clothing, one of the washing machines in need of some repair work, and the spirit getting a stern talking-to from the head maid.
Again, no one's entirely sure if it stuck, but the lack of further interruptions to the laundry since then is a hopeful sign - not just for this specific instance, but future interactions with the spirit in general.
The conversation is interrupted, then, as Emiko calls out, "Finished!" and holds up her work for inspection.
It's a very simple design. She's taken that wooden arch she made earlier - which is about a foot tall at the peak of the curve - and attached a single smoothed-over branch about two feet long to each end. The joints almost look like they've been woven or fused together, leaving you to wonder what exactly Emiko did to get that effect.
"It's a very nice... coat hanger?" Kahlua offers.
Completely unperturbed by the response, Emiko nods. "That's not a bad example. See, depending on which end your bat prefers, we can just tie a vine to the top of the arc or two vines to the corner of the flat end, and then hang it up somewhere!" Her ears go slightly flat as she frowns at her own work. "It's not my best work, but for twenty minutes with unprepared materials, I think it's not too bad. And you only need it for one day anyway!"
"...true," Kahlua admits. Setting aside the pieces of wood she was working with, she stands up, raises her right arm, and calls for Merlot to come down.
The fluffy young Ache looks from his new mistress to the wooden "perch" her friend has constructed, wariness clear in his dark little eyes, but he unfurls his wings, lets go of the branch he was hanging from, and drifts soundlessly down to land on Kahlua's outstretched limb.
With some careful maneuvering on the part of all three participants, Merlot inspects Emiko's work. For whatever reason, he seems to like the flat portion of the simple device, giving it an approving squeak and an emphatic flexing of his toes.
Leaving Kahlua to hold bat and hanger for a moment, Emiko grabs a length of vine Kala pulled from one tree, ties one of that to the middle of the arc, and pulls the knot tight.
"And there you go," she says, holding over the approximately three feet of green 'rope.' "Plenty of give to hang it from one of the fixtures in the ceiling, or to shorten it and hang it from one wall. Just make sure to extinguish all the candles first, so it doesn't catch fire."
"Squeak!" Merlot agrees.
"Thank you, Emiko," Kahlua says.
"You're welcome!"
Since Emiko has pretty well established herself as the master of simple woodworking, Akua looks at the cracked length of wood in her hands and then politely asks the kitsune if she could make another of those perches for Malbec. Emiko promptly agrees, and gathers up the necessary materials.
While she's doing that, Akua quietly ditches the broken wood in her hands. Kokoa follows suit, with an expression of obvious relief.
Sensing that the sisters are on the verge of departing, you broach a topic that's been hanging in the back of your mind for a while, and ask them how they've been enjoying the visit to the island so far.
All three vampires have similar thoughts about being able to explore a tropical island without the levels of coverage they were all sporting when they first arrived. The sun is not nearly so great an enemy of their kind as it is for the corpse-demons, but just because it doesn't set them on fire doesn't mean it's comfortable for them, and being able to go without the usual precautions is a distinct novelty.
Even Akua, who was almost hostile towards the tropical sun on her arrival, pronounces it "surprisingly tolerable."
Then there's the water. Just being free of the unpleasant feeling of tropical humidity crawling along their skin is a wonder unto itself; having been able to go SWIMMING earlier today is something Kahlua and Kokoa can hardly find the words to describe.
As the two of them fumble through their explanation, a stray thought occurs to you.
It came as no surprise that Gyokuro and Kokoa finished dead last during the swimming phase of the Island Triathlon. Kahlua placed a bit better, but that's because she was partnered with Katara, who had no problem using Waterbending to drag her partner across the lagoon.
The interesting thing was the Reinhardts. Mother and daughter not only finished that leg of the race ahead of their "Team Shuzen" counterparts - if still behind Kahlua and Katara - they seemed distinctly less troubled by the whole prospect of going swimming to begin with.
It takes an effort to dismiss your curiosity, but a combination of mentally repeating "I'm taking a break," "It's not really my business," "Stay on topic," and "If it's important, it'll come up again" seems to do the trick.
While you're wrestling down your inquisitive impulses, the Shuzen sisters are still answering your question, and your other guests are starting to chime in as well.
Akua is the only one present who went on the Boar Hunt, but she found it very interesting.
"Most animals either flee or freeze and cower when a vampire is hunting," she explains, "even when we're not after them. An animal that has the courage or even just the sheer spiteful fury to ATTACK us, and isn't suffering from any sort of sickness? That's something I'd never experienced before, and it was a refreshing change of pace." She pauses, cocks her head as if listening, and nods. "Moka feels much the same."
The Island Triathlon was well-received, and the Ring of Trials seems to have gone over well in general, if not without a few... complaints.
"We wanted to have a turn," Karin grumbles, shooting Mio and Miu a jealous glare.
"Yeah!" Zelda agrees.
Yuzu gives her sister a comforting pat on the back, which is rather undermined by the twin kitsune grinning and flashing V-signs.
"Don't get too smug, you two," Emiko scolds lightly, as she slowly bends another stick into shape. "Remember, you got knocked out halfway through."
Ears and tails promptly droop.
"Thanks, Emi," Mio grumbles.
"We were trying to forget that," Miu agrees sourly.
Zelda, meanwhile, is looking between you and Shadow Alex expectantly.
Your Shadow looks at you, silently and shamelessly passing the buck.
"So," you say, looking at the vampires. "What did you think about running a gauntlet of trials overseen by a trio of goddesses?"
Yes, what DO they think?
Akua and Kahlua pause at that.
Shhh! I want to hear this.
"They give the BEST rewards!" Kokoa proclaims, all but leaping to her feet as she punches the air.
Hehehehe.
"Yeah!" Thistle agrees, mirroring the gesture.
The older girls glance at their respective pets, and though they don't express it aloud, you can SEE the silent agreement with the point made by their youngest sister and her new companion.
"They are certainly much more actively involved with the world than most deities I have heard of these days," Akua says guardedly.
"Nicer, too," Kahlua adds. "I mean, I'm no expert on religion, but in the stories I know, gods and kami and the like generally ignore people who either aren't their followers or haven't done something that specifically offends them. Creating a... proving ground, like the Ring of Trials, and then letting ANYBODY who wants to face it to have a chance to do so? And then rewarding them for their performance? I didn't think that was allowed."
"Some gods would smite an outsider for daring to suggest such a thing," Akua agrees. "Some would smite their own PRIESTS for allowing it, much less when the outsider was a vampire."
What can I say? Some gods are just jerks. Or idiots. Or evil. Or secretly demons.
You nod. Just by dint of growing up on Earth and the cultural osmosis that comes with it, you've heard a few of the stories Kahlua is talking about, and are familiar with the general attitude expressed in them, while your ongoing studies of magic and the Moonlit World have given you plenty of evidence that supports what both sisters said.
Most gods AREN'T very directly involved with the world these days, and they DO reserve their interventions for their worshippers - and not just any old layman, as might have happened in older times, but for dedicated priests or designated Chosen Ones. And even THEN, their efforts are limited, though you've seen firsthand proof that at least some of the divine beings wish it would be otherwise.
"When you're wiser and more powerful."
Oooh, good one.
As you reply, Zelda takes a breath, her suddenly stubborn expression saying clearer than words that she's about to launch into a protest. But then your choice of words registers with her, and she stops short, blinking in confusion.
Yeah, she was definitely set to make a fuss about her age not being important.
"...huh?"
This, though? This, she wasn't prepared for.
"Exactly," you reply.
Which just goes to show, she isn't ready.
"So, on the whole," you venture, "would you say that you like what you've seen?"
"Well, except for the part where channeling some of their power apparently lets you cancel out MINE," Kahlua says with a slightly pouty look.
"I am still reserving my judgment," Akua says. "But I have no real complaints with what I have seen thus far."
Fair on both accounts, even if Kahlua appears to have reached a slightly incorrect assumption about the nature of your Power. While it does ultimately originate from the Goddesses, you aren't actually channeling their power when you turn all golden.
At least, not YET.
Although speaking of which...
"It's funny that you should mention channeling the Goddesses' power, Kahlua..."
She sighs. "What have you done now, Alex?"
You proceed to explain about the gist of your lessons with the three priests, and how you've been trying to refine your miracle-making abilities.
"You're saying that, in another year or so, you'll be able to make holy water, sanctify crosses, hallow buildings, and all the rest of that, the same way regular spellcasting priests can," Kahlua sums up.
"Maybe not crosses," you answer thoughtfully. "They're not a holy symbol for any of the Goddesses. And technically, I'll be able to do things the way regular Hyrulean priests can; from what I've seen, they seem to have fewer limits than priests on Earth do."
The Shuzens consider that.
"When you say 'fewer limits,'" Akua ventures slowly, "what exactly do you mean?"
You quickly recount your exploration of the Memorian Ruins with Ginta and Ichirou, and how the senior Hakuba priest's attempt to call upon the power of his patron kami to smite an approaching swarm of overgrown demonic spiders quite unexpectedly cleared the battlefield.
Akua stares at you for a moment before turning to her next-oldest sister, silently seeking confirmation of your words.
Kahlua, having heard this account before, just nods.
"...aiyah," Akua breathes. Then she looks at you. "I am still new to the experience of being an elder sibling, but I believe this is the point where I am obligated to remind you to refrain from using such things around my sisters."
"At least until we've cleared it with Mother and Father," Kahlua adds.
Emiko finishes the second perch shortly thereafter, and Akua calls Malbec down from the trees to give it a "test hang."
Is there anything else you feel the need to discuss here and now?
There's a temptation to make a comment about it being unfair to use your full natural abilities in a spar, but you refrain.
Mostly because if you SAY that, you'll end up having to explain what Maximum Power actually IS, and why you can do it in the first place.
"I don't have a problem with that," you say instead, "but just to be clear, does that ban include Maximum Power, going forward?"
"Say yes!" Kokoa bursts out. "Say yes! I could sooo take him if you say yes!"
The elder sisters regard the youngest for a moment, their amused smiles making their shared paternity suddenly obvious.
"Tempting," Kahlua chimes, "but I really want to beat him while he's using that move one of these days."
Kokoa slumps, groaning.
"Sorry, little sister."
Akua turns to you, and dryly notes, "I believe that is a 'no.'"
You nod. "As long as we're in agreement."
You change topics then, and inquire if the Shuzen girls can give you any recommendations for when you want to get more fairy-sized things for Briar, her acquaintances, or maybe her family. Where on Earth DOES one go shopping for fairies?
As it happens, you don't - or at least, the Shuzens don't. Briar's house and its contents were something they had custom-made, and the similar residence Thistle and Kokoa have been exchanging ideas about will be the same, once the two of them have settled on a design.
Kahlua is perfectly willing to ask her parents for the name and business address of whoever did the work, but she can't make any guarantees.
After that, Akua and Kahlua take up their bats and their new temporary perches, and thank Emiko for her help, you for suggesting the idea, and Kala for taking the time to show them how it's done - even if their own efforts amounted to so much broken wood. Then the two of them head back to their family suite, to figure out where best to let their pets hang out.
Moka brings Moblin back to you, giving him a scratch behind the left ear and calling him a "Good boy" before taking Cinnamon and rejoining her older sisters.
Kokoa doesn't return with the others, instead going off with Thistle to explore the island a bit and get to know each other better.
The five youngest girls seem content to sit tight and continue taking lessons on island crafts from Kala, with Emiko pitching in to give her sisters more direct pointers in their "family style" of woodworking.
As for yourself, it's an hour and change until dinner is scheduled to start, and there's still something you'd like to do between then and now. Leaving Shadow Alex to watch over Zelda, you head off, Moblin trotting along at your heel and Briar leading the way.
It takes you a bit to track down Briar's Biggest Brother. You eventually find the burly redhead at the dining area, seated at one of the tables and peering down at a few scrolls he has unfurled across the top. He's gotten what looks like the archaic equivalent of a math set from somewhere - probably one of those pouches slung around his waist - and is measuring something off with the brassy protractor as you approach.
A glance at the rough papers shows several hastily-sketched designs for mechanical humanoid figures with insect-like wings. One is tall and slender, another of middling height but considerable girth, and the third downright diminutive - at least compared to each other - and they're all surrounded by lines and arcs whose exact meanings escape you, as well as bits of scrawled text you are careful not to look too closely at.
It might be in Hylian, after all.
Robin looks up, and you blink at the sight of the multi-lensed monocle-looking device he has strapped over his left eye, particularly how it magnifies the blue orb beneath to massive size.
In your head, you hear Cecilia crying: "Even the FAIRIES, now?!"
"Hey, Big Brother," Briar greets him.
"Briar," Robin replies with a faint smile and a nod. "Have you and your partner come to make even more work for me?"
"Yeah, probably," the smaller fairy admits shamelessly. "On the other hand, Alex can actually pay you for your work."
"Oh ho!" Robin sits up straight and levers his eyepiece out of the way. "In that case, I am all ears."
Well, you wanted to talk to the Fae smith about trading for Hylian steel.
You take out the Blessed Sword, still in its sheath, and hold it out to Robin, asking for advice on how you might give this weapon the ability to transform.
"Like what? Into a different weapon?"
"At least one other weapon, anyway," you agree.
You briefly explain the issue with trying to master a Hylian sword under the tutelage of a man who favors the jian - with a quick segue to explain what a jian IS, since the term is new to Robin. If you could turn your Blessed Sword into a type of sword that Lu-sensei is actually trained in using, you'd at least be able to pursue THAT style of swordsmanship in the coming months.
You also idly mention the idea of being able to freely transform the Blessed Sword into any melee weapon you can imagine, but you admit that it's more of a long-term goal to shoot for rather than something you really NEED right now. Plus it's probably well beyond your means to afford at this time, anyway.
The Fae smith considers your words as he takes the sword from you, draws it, and spends a minute examining it, both with his eyes and via a slow set of basic sword forms, to get a proper sense of its weight and responsiveness.
From the way your Fairy Sight and Sense tingle, it seems he's also using his inherent power to measure the blade somehow. The process is subtle enough that your passive senses can't make heads or tails of it, and you're reluctant to resort to your active senses in this situation.
You ARE asking one of the Fae for his professional advice. Briar's Big Brother or no, you're of a mind to be on your best behavior here.
With his examination complete, Robin frowns, sheathes the Blessed Sword, and returns it to you.
"I... might be able to do the job," the smith says, though there's a distinct note of self-doubt in his reply. This is explained when he continues, "But I've never done work of that kind before. There's no real call for it, Bags of Holding being as common as they are. Most fighters don't really need more than three or four weapons to handle the majority of melee situations, and even if they're all enchanted, that would probably still be less expensive than making a sword that can turn into any other weapon you want it to be."
"Most fighters don't have a Goddess-given sword," you counter.
"And most who do would consider that enough," comes the rebuttal. "Still, I can see where you're coming from - and the Goddesses have never objected to someone trying to improve what they already have."
Heck no.
Robin considers it for a moment. "I'd have to do some research to be sure, but off the top of my head, I'd say imbuing your sword with the ability to turn into ONE different type of sword would probably cost around 300 Rupees for materials and labor - or the equivalent in gold or silver."
Ouch.
That price is not completely outside of your price range, if the profits from your extradimensional export business remain steady or increase in the future, but it's still high enough to make it painful to contemplate.
"And if I could provide those materials myself?" you ask.
"Assuming they were all up to quality? Half price."
Lesser ouch, but one that's actually in the range of affordability. You could actually pay that now, though it would wipe out about three-quarters of your combined Rupee and gold assets to do so.
Of course, you don't have the necessary materials to get that discount. For those, you'll either have to do some shopping at Gen's, or - more likely - put your deal-making face on and break out the Summoning Magic to strike up a few profitable ventures with CREATURES FROM BEYOND!
...ahem.
"...give me a few minutes."
Navi's son turns back to the table, digs out a mostly-unmarked piece of paper, and takes up his pen - mostly made of polished wood, except for the bit, which is composed of the same coppery material as his protractor.
"Before you start writing," you cut in quickly, "would it be possible to get this in a language OTHER than Hylian?"
Robin's hand pauses, the tip of the pen hovering just above the paper, and he glances at you in surprised curiosity.
You look around quickly to make sure nobody you don't want hearing this next bit is within eavesdropping range - they're not - and then quietly explain your wariness of exposing yourself to things Ganondorf was familiar with in life.
Robin winces. "Uh, yeah. Let's avoid that if at all possible." He turns to the sheet, and then stops again. "Just to make sure: how are you with Sylvan?"
"I speak it fairly well," you reply in that language. "Haven't really had much practice reading it, but I know the Spell to Comprehend Languages, so..." You trail off with a shrug.
Robin nods, relieved, and starts writing.
It takes a while. It's not just the names of the stuff he needs that he's putting to paper, but descriptions of where he'd look for them, and what properties are required to ensure the best quality. You get this from Briar, who shamelessly reads over her big brother's shoulder as he works.
You refrain from similar silliness, only looking at the list when Robin hands it over.
Gained Robin's List
The Spell to Comprehend Languages you cast back while facing Gleeok in the Ring of Trials didn't persist once your Trials were over, and you don't feel like expending more of your reduced mana right now, so you fall back on your admittedly rudimentary grasp of written Sylvan as you try to make sense of the list.
What you can make out suggests a mix of the sort of stuff you'd expect from a weaponsmith, and reagents like you'd collect for making a magic item. Coal or charcoal with a certain mystical value, a particular flower meant to be processed into an oil, monster bl-
...
You can't have read that part right.
"'Monster blood?'" you quote, looking at Robin in surprise.
The Fae smith just nods. "From a shapechanger, to help catalyze the transformative effect. Since you only want the sword to be able to take on one other form, you won't need much - just an ounce or so, though you might want to get two or three if you can. Like I said, I've never done this sort of job before; I could screw it up."
You wince. A single drop of fresh blood is all a skilled diviner or necromancer needs to make someone's life uncomfortable, while blood given willingly or in quantity - much less both - opens the door to even greater potential abuses. The mystically-involved are generally aware of that, and while it's certainly not impossible to bargain for blood in the amount Robin requires, it's going to be a hard sell.
"It doesn't have to be taken all at once," Robin adds, reading your expression, "but it's best if all the blood comes from one willing donor. Otherwise I'll have to purify it, and that'll destroy some of the blood, which means you'll need more to start with."
"How much more?" Briar asks in fascinated disgust.
"Five ounces would be a reasonable safety net," the Fae smith replies after a moment's thought. "Even accounting for first-time mistakes."
At that, you can only shake your head.
You'd very much like to discuss the possibility of setting up some kind of long-term trade deal with Robin, like the ones you have going with the Hyrulean Church and Dekon the Deku, but all things considered, you feel like you should wait on that a bit. Even with the discount for providing materials, paying for him to work on your Blessed Blade is going to take a bite out of your available cash, and that's assuming you can find items of sufficient quality in the first place.
Better to get that business dealt with, and maybe have a few more Rupees in the bank, before you start trying to trade for quantities of Hylian steel or the like.
As you go to fold up Robin's list and tuck it in your pocket for safekeeping, you notice the faint indentations on the curled sheet of rough paper, where the pressure of Robin's pen left a mark.
Glancing down, you gesture at the diagrams scattered over the table, specifically at the three differently-proportioned fairy-like mechanisms.
"So is that machine going to transform, or are you going for a nesting doll setup?"
"A what, now?"
You take a minute to describe the odd little dolls you've seen a few times.
"...what an odd idea," Robin muses, before waving at his drawings. "As for these, at this point, I really can't say anything for sure. They're just some preliminary designs to help pin down what this Fairy Doom Machine's going to look like."
You look at the diagrams again.
"If I might make a suggestion?" you offer, gesturing at the diagrams.
"Go ahead."
"You might want to talk to my guests from Japan about this," you say.
"Oh?" Robin asks.
"Huh?" Briar exclaims.
You nod. "They seem to have a cultural fascination with robots, and they might have some insights."
The bigger fairy glances at the smaller, who's started to snicker. "Briar?"
"It's true," your partner says. "They do like their robots. Especially the fighting machines."
Robin's expression is one that's familiar to you, though more from hanging out with certain friends than from personal experience: that of an older sibling suspicious of a younger sibling's behavior, and trying to decide what to do about it.
In the end, Robin simply says that he'll take your suggestion under advisement.
While you were talking to Robin, you were aware of a tantalizing scent coming from the direction of the fire-pit - the smell of pork, fresh from this morning's kills and seasoned delightfully, roasting steadily. Some of the dressed carcasses have been packed in leaves and placed into the fire-pit; others are skewered on wooden spits and being slowly turned over hot coals by Shaman Keoni and his assistants.
The returned islanders have actually dug a few additional pits and set up some extra spits to accommodate the large number of kills and guests. You spend some time talking with them about this method, mostly out of curiosity, but also just in case you ever need to try it some day.
Gained Cooking D
Gained Survival F (Plus) (Plus)
You also find out what happened to the rest of the carcasses. A portion of the meat was taken to a smoke-house Shaman Keoni had set up after you summoned him, so even if you and your guests clear out what's been set aside for tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch, you might yet be going home with leftovers. Some of the organs have been cooked for consumption, others discarded.
That leaves the hides and the bones, which the shaman tells you are causing his fellows a bit of consternation.
In life, the islanders would have made use of these: some bones would be made directly into tools and decorations; others would be ground down for use in medicines and magical reagents; and the hides would have been tanned and made into leather.
Even with the magic Shaman Keoni can provide, the ghosts don't really have the time to do all that work. They're not exactly upset about it, having been dead long enough that material matters... well, don't really matter as much as they used to.
It still bugs them, though.
It's still only about 4:30, but between the expectations built up by the Great Island Boar Hunt, the appetites that were no doubt whetted by the Ring of Trials, and the mouth-watering, stomach-rumbling scents coming from the cooking pigs, quite a few of your guests have turned up early, and are eyeing the food with great anticipation.
You find yourself glad on multiple levels that you planned to START with the food, and leave the business of presents until later.
...on the other hand, you're experiencing conflicting feelings regarding the cake.
Part of you looks upon the faces of your hungry guests, and wonders if you brought enough cake to go around.
Another part can't help but worry that people will gorge themselves on the pork until they have no room left for dessert, which will leave you with entirely too much cake.
Then again, there's always tomorrow.
Worse comes to worst, you can always divide the remaining cake among your guests and send a few slices with each group when they leave.
Thinking on it, you're pretty sure that Sokka and Hakoda, at least, would prefer to take the rest of their respective kills home with them. The Southern Water Tribe can certainly make good use of the meat, and you've seen enough "traditional" materials in use during your visits to know that the leather and bones would be welcome additions. The Memorians might have something in mind for their kills, as well, and since that will account for almost half of all the boars taken in this morning's hunt, you figure you might as well give the rest of your guests the same choice.
Thinking on that, you quickly check with Shaman Keoni to see if the islanders kept track of who killed which boar(s), or if they just stowed everything together.
It turns out to have been the former, which makes things easier for you.
You tell Keoni you'll make an announcement at dinner, and let the guests know that if they want to take the spoils of their hunt home with them tomorrow, they're welcome to. If there's anything left over after that, you'll keep it for your own purposes.
Transforming the uncured hides into leather shouldn't be too difficult for you, thanks to the Spell of Fabrication, although you figure it wouldn't hurt to consult with Uncle Rory on the matter first. He's an experienced taxidermist, and while you don't recall seeing any pigs in his collection, he still might be able to scare up a sample of the proverbial and literal pigskin for you, so that you know what it's supposed to look like BEFORE it gets used to make something.
Any leftover meat won't be an issue to get rid of, but as for what you'll do with that leather, or the bones... well, that's going to depend on how much of either material you end up acquiring, but you're sure you'll think of something.
Your decision draws looks of satisfaction from the nearby islander spirits, before they get on with their work. A few minutes pass before some of the smaller boars are proclaimed cooked; the larger animals will take a bit longer.
Considering the number of guests that have already been lured to the dining area by the prospect - or scent - of an island-style roast boar dinner, as well as the discontented rumbling of your own stomach, you are tempted to start dinner a little early.
You hold off on that long enough to make a quick run down the beach, "knocking" at the entrance of each Mansion and telling the servant that answers to let any of the guests inside know that dinner will be starting a little early. While you're doing that, Briar flies off to let her mother and siblings know, and know to spread the word to anyone they pass.
It's around a quarter to five when the last of your guests arrive. Once they're all present, you stand up and make that announcement regarding the disposal of the "leftovers" from this morning's hunt.
As you anticipated, Sokka and Hakoda are very much in favor of taking their kills with them, while the Memorians do indeed want to do the same. That might seem a little odd when compared to the reaction of the islanders, but then again, the Memorians ARE undead, and hence more strongly connected to the Material Plane than the spirits of Bali Ha'i's past residents, who you had to actually call back from Beyond for these festivities.
The rest of your guests-turned-hunters have similar reactions, at least where the meat is concerned. Mention of the bones and the hides garners looks ranging from the confused (mostly over the bones) to the distasteful (Issa and his daughters, surprisingly) to the eager (Big Sister summer and Miss Akasha).
From the look of things, you'll be getting the leftovers of the islanders' kills, some of the bones and hides from the rest, and whatever your father doesn't stake a claim to from his kill.
By the time that's all been said and sorted out, one of the larger boars has cooked well enough to satisfy Shaman Keoni's standards. This is fortunate, because when you promptly declare dinner to have started, that great roasted carcass and the other half-dozen smaller pigs are subsequently stripped to the bone in a manner that makes you think of cartoon piranhas, only with cutlery and a modicum of table manners.
Not that this prevents you from indulging your own carnivorous impulses or anything, but you DO make a point of standing back from the buffet tables until the more obligately carnivorous and the simply meat-loving omnivorous among your party have taken their fill for the first course.
After filling your plate, you join your family at their table. You may end up wandering the crowd after this, but taking the first course with your sister and parents - and Moblin, who growls happily as he tears bits of meat off a particularly juicy bone the chefs set aside for him - is only right.
Part of you wants to tell your parents that you weren't in as much danger during the Trials as it might have looked, but also that you have faced some of those opponents for real, and will assuredly face other, greater challenges in the future.
But you already said most of that and implied the rest during the conversation you had with your folks following your Trials, and there's no sense in belaboring the point.
So instead, you ask your family what parts of the party they've enjoyed so far.
"I liked the fights!" Zelda says promptly. "Especially the ones with the dinosaurs and the dragons!"
Your mother sighs. "I blame you two for this," she says, looking at your father first, and then at you.
Your father dons an expression of wounded innocence.
"Just the fights?" you ask your sister.
"They were the most fun to watch," Zelda explains. "The race looked like fun to be in, but..."
But she didn't get to run it, you finish in your head. You'd chosen to sit the Trials out as an energy-saving measure, Dad was off hunting boars, Mom isn't the sporty type, and Zelda's too big for Moblin to carry, even if that would have flown with you or Mom. Your sister isn't on bad terms with your friends from Sunnydale, but they're still YOUR friends rather than hers, and everybody near her own age she'd met here was running with an older family member or friend.
In hindsight, you feel a little guilty for not thinking of that sooner.
"What about coming to the island and meeting all these new people?" you venture. "Has that been fun?"
"Un!" Zelda replies with a firm nod. "'specially the fairies!"
"Yeah!" chorus the handful of fairies hanging around - and off of - your sister at the moment.
"We're awesome!"
And like that, Zelda's off, chattering away happily about the fun things she and the fairies have been doing whenever there wasn't a bigger spectacle to distract them. This, around bites of dinner and gentle admonishments from your mother to chew with her mouth closed and swallow before she speaks.
You don't get around to that discussion of magic you were considering, at least not before you've cleaned your plate, gone back for seconds, and finished those as well - you don't know if it's the all-natural diet of the animals, the novelty of the island-style cooking, or Keoni's personal touch, but this is the best pork you think you've ever had. And at that point, you feel compelled to stretch your legs and do the conscientious host thing.
But you're okay with that.
Such are the hazards of a conversation that includes Zelda Harris.
Plus, it's not like you can't have a more serious discussion with your parents some other time - say, after Zelda goes to bed.
As you move among the crowd, checking on the general opinion of dinner-
"Ish GOO'!" Sokka exclaims, tears of joy in his eyes as his teeth rip meat from the bone in a manner highly reminiscent of Moblin's approach. "Ish rearry GOO'!"
-you make a point of checking in with Beryl. Partly, this is to see how her sister is doing after the whole 'everything has horrible giant staring eyeballs' business-
"If I have nightmares about this," Cecilia warns you, "you're getting a late birthday present in the form of a kick."
There's a determined gleam in her eye that tells you she means it.
-but mainly, you just felt like checking with Beryl to see whether or not the (relatively) new, Ambrose-sourced ward on your house was interfering with her ability to magically contact you. The imp in the Oakland Raiders t-shirt that is the redheaded sorceress's preferred messenger was able to turn up in your front yard with Beryl's reply to your party invitation, so SHE, at least, doesn't appear to be troubled by the wards. You're just not sure if that's because the imp already knew where you live, or because the ward isn't interfering with her for some reason.
"The former would definitely be a contributing factor," Beryl muses. "And in this instance, I think we can safely assume that the latter is, as well, if only because the little pest hasn't started griping about making mail runs to or from your place since these wards went up." She pauses, and adds, "Or rather, not any more than she already did."
Cecilia shakes her head. "I still don't get why you want to work with somebody who annoys you so much, Sis. If you need a tiny magic person to run your magic mail around, why not just use fairies?"
"Yeah!"
"Why not?"
Beryl laughs, once. "Because, little sister, as annoying as dealing with that imp can be sometimes, I know she won't lose my letters or forget where she's supposed to be taking them."
"Hey!"
"Are you calling us dumb?!"
"...I mean, she DOES have a point..."
You reply to Cecilia's threat with a shrug. "Eh, fair enough. But just so you know, I kick back."
Cecilia's expression turns shocked and offended. "You'd kick a girl?"
"You've seen him fight two different girls in the last twenty-four hours," Beryl notes dryly.
"Yeah, but one of those wasn't even him doing the fighting!" Cecilia retorts. "And he didn't kick either of them!"
You think back to your bout with Emiko yesterday, and to Ayane's Final Trial against a past version of you, and realize you can't recall actually trying to kick either girl.
Punch, tackle, grapple, and/or energy-blast, yes, but not use your feet on.
Huh.
Well, even so...
"What can I say?" you ask rhetorically. "I believe in gender equality. I believe that girls are just as capable of kicking butt and getting their butts kicked as guys are."
Cecilia looks like she's about to respond to that, but then she looks around the dining area, focusing - if briefly - on the various female martial artists around your age.
If they were all monsters, she might have something more to say on the matter, but that's not the case - and as the younger sister of a sorceress, she can't very well complain about the human families with their own supernatural background.
Huffing in annoyance, Cecilia says, "I'm still kicking you if I have nightmares."
You nod. As long as she's prepared to accept the consequences.
After a few more brief words, you excuse yourself from the sisters' table and resume your hostly drifting among the crowd, which eventually brings you to the Higurashi table.
"Hello, Alex," Kagome greets you.
"Hello, Kagome," you respond, looking around at her family. "I hope dinner has been to everyone's liking."
Souta, who you're pretty sure is on his third helping of the pork - if in servings of more modest size than certain older and more carnivorous guests - makes a noise of affirmation.
"I may have to get your cook's recipe before we leave," Mrs. Higurashi notes.
"I'm sure Shaman Keoni would be delighted to trade notes with you, ma'am. In the meantime, I was wondering about something else?"
"And what would that be, young man?" Grandpa asks keenly.
"Have you or Kagome had a chance to talk with the Hakubas yet?"
Kagome shakes her head, then blinks in surprise when her grandfather nods importantly. "As a matter of fact, I have. Koujirou and I spent a couple of hours this morning discussing matters."
...now that you think about it, that would explain where the two old men were during the Great Island Boar Hunt and Triathlon. Neither of them are really in any physical shape to have taken part in the former event, and you didn't see them at the latter.
"Of course, we agreed that this island is far too nice a place to spend too much time talking about business," Grandpa goes on, "but we'll be meeting up next week for a more serious talk. And Koujirou did mention a couple of very... interesting and important details that I wasn't aware of." His expression briefly sours, but that is quickly overridden as he gives you a keen look. "I understand you were responsible for them learning about those particular matters."
"I had help," you reply, truthfully and modestly.
The old priest nods. "Even so, thank you. I may not like what I heard, but it explains a great deal, and in this case, knowing is much preferable to ignorance."
The rest of the family has joined Kagome in her confused blinking, totally lost as to what the two of you are talking about - or around, as the case may be.
"What are you two talking about?" Kagome finally blurts out.
"Probably just the crazy talking," Souta mutters in an undertone.
"Hey!"
Not enough of one to keep his grandfather from hearing it, but a good effort all the same.
You decide to take your cue in this from Kagome's grandfather.
He, in turn, answers her question with, "Just part of your future training. You see-"
"No!" Kagome says immediately, crossing her arms. "No talking about studies at a party! It's forbidden!"
"But this is-"
"Forbidden!"
Even as Grandpa Higurashi's face falls into a resigned old man sulk, you get the impression this was exactly the outcome he was aiming for.
It looks like you may not be the only one who doesn't want to break the news about the injunction against divine intervention to Kagome - at least not yet.
When you were planning out your party a couple of weeks back, the matter of the cake was one you gave careful consideration. At first, you were just going to go with something simple and store-bought, like you have for all your previous birthdays, but as the guest list rapidly expanded, it became clear that you were going to need a lot more cake this year.
That led to an internal debate about whether to go with some sort of multi-layered cake, like the red velvet cake Kahlua had at her last birthday, or to buy multiple single-layer cakes, possibly in different flavors. This in turn had you wondering if some of your guests might be allergic to certain ingredients - a concern you were able to clear up with a few quick letters and visits - and whether they were or not, what their personal preferences were.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, your mother took the matter out of your hands, telling you to leave the cake to her.
By that point, you were juggling enough other matters with setting up the party that it was kind of a relief to be able to hand complete responsibility for something off to someone else - more than that, to an adult who WASN'T somehow under your magical authority.
Which is not to say that you haven't been curious about what your mother came up with. She didn't try to cook the cakes herself, and all you've seen of them are the three plain white boxes that were already packed into the trunk of the car when you got home from school on Friday. Said boxes made the trip to the island as part of your teleport "luggage," and were passed over to Shaman Keoni for safekeeping, with an assurance that he'd cast a simple preservation spell on them to keep the contents fresh until they were needed.
That time has arrived, and the shaman-chef and two of his assistants form a little procession as they bring the cakes out from wherever they've been stored since yesterday.
All three are round layer cakes, tall enough to be three sheets high. One is covered with white frosting, with green buttercream swirls coiling around the sides and a rainbow of sprinkles scattered across the sides and top. The other two cakes are similar, except with dark brown and bright red frosting in place of the white.
At a glance, it seems your mother decided to stick with the classics.
The brown and red cakes do not have candles on them, but the white cake does, nine points of flame arranged in a ring.
From among the islanders, Ekewaka calls out, "Everybody sing!"
And then, rather to your surprise, the ghosts of Bali Ha'i burst into an upbeat rendition of the traditional birthday song.
How do they even-?
Your question is drowned out as your guests join in, and Keoni sets the probably-vanilla cake down on your table.
As you take a breath and prepare to blow out the candles, you ponder if you should make a wish. You've been studying the mechanics behind the Spell of Limited Wishing, which makes the whole birthday tradition seem kind of silly. And yet, it IS a tradition... and you DO have three Goddesses in your corner...
Ah, what the heck.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Mid-breath, you close your eyes and make a silent wish - not for yourself, but for the people in your life. For them, you wish for health, wellness, safety, and good luck.
Opening your eyes, you lean forward and blow.
The candles go out.
...
All that happens is your mother bringing forward a cake server.
Brushing off a mingled sense of disappointment and relief at the lack of any supernatural reaction to your wish, you accept the server, and then pause to consider your next move.
At a foot across each, these cakes are larger than any you've had to personally cut before. From what you saw at Kahlua's birthday, cakes of this size are supposed to be divided into two or even three "rings," with the outermost being cut away first. Remembering that much is easy; the hard part is figuring out how many slices to cut that section of the cake into, to ensure that all your guests get at least one.
Then you notice the little marks inked into the surface of the cake tray.
Either your mother thought ahead, or the people who made and delivered the cake have dealt with inexperienced cake-servers before. Maybe both.
If it's the latter, it's unexpectedly considerate for people living in Sunnydale, and THAT thought has you giving the cakes a belated once-over with your Corruption Sight.
To your surprise, they're clean.
Noticing but perhaps misinterpreting your reaction to the lack of Hellmouth taint, your mother leans in and murmurs, "Need a hand, Alex?"
"I think I've got it, Mom," you reply in the same hushed tone. "Though I was wondering; where did you get these?"
"There's a place in Oxnard," she replies. "After everything you've said about Sunnydale being a bad influence... well, it seemed best to order them from somewhere out of town."
A wise choice.
And just like that, any reservations you had about the cake are cleared up.
You proceed to cut and serve.
On a side note, the white cake is vanilla-flavored as expected, but with strawberry jam filling between the layers.
There is some debate over the order of servings after you, and which flavor they're allowed to have - the ladies collectively call dibs on the chocolate, and then silently dare the men to comment on it, or try taking a piece before any of them do - but gradually, everybody gets a slice.
Incidentally, the chocolate cake has chocolate fudge between the layers, while the strawberry-flavored cake proves to have vanilla cream filling.
The size of the cakes is such that there ought to be enough for most of your guests to have seconds, in spite of their numbers. It helps that the greater part of your Japanese guests don't appear particularly enamored of the sweetness of the cake, and limit themselves to small or single servings.
That's something you might want to keep in mind for future parties.
After the first round of cake comes the part of the festivities that you, personally, have been waiting for with greater anticipation than most of the other events.
Namely, the presents.
You say "most" rather than "all" because you were really looking forward to facing the Ring of Trials, and the experience did not disappoint.
Considering the number of gifts involved and the fact that all of the tables around the dining area are in use, they've been piled up on the stage where the chorus was performing last night. Leaving your seat, you march over and examine the sprawling mound of wrapped goodies, which run a gamut of shapes and sizes. There's a few that remind you of boxed clothes received on birthdays and Christmases past, and which are probably from family now as they were then.
Some of the gifts are magical, if only mildly so. There's a small, shapeless pouch that radiates the familiar aura of a blessing from the Hakuba Shrine, which is probably a new omamori or something similar. A pair of cylindrical packages as long as you are tall give off similarly benign auras; one of those is Elder Tiriaq's work, while the other - wrapped in plain cloth - takes a minute to match to Priest Cato and Magus Hermanus. Then there's the packages wrapped in leaves and vines, which are clearly from Navi and her older kids.
Aside from those, nothing else in the pile betrays an obvious supernatural presence.
Even so, you wonder where to start.
You decide to start with the packages that are marked as coming from your family - not just your folks and Zelda, but other members of the extended Harris Clan who felt like getting you something.
As you reach for a parcel, though, Zelda leaps up from her seat and runs over to you, crying, "Wait!"
You wait, and your little sister promptly grabs one present - going by the wrapping rather than the name on the tag, you think - and hands it to you.
"Open mine first!"she insists.
You have no problem with this.
Zelda's present comes in two parts. The first is a sheet of colored paper, framed by cleaned and glued-together popsicle sticks, with the words "Best Big Brother Award" somewhat unevenly spaced across it. The letters were cut out of differently-colored paper, and a variety of sparkling bits and glitter were pasted to it, making the final result resemble a mix of a rainbow and a starfield.
There are "D'aww"s from the audience at this, some of them more muffled than others.
Gained Best Big Brother Award
Given that Zelda is still learning her letters, much less proper reading and writing, you suspect one of the daycare workers, your mother, and/or Briar had a hand in this project.
Your mother and Briar were DEFINITELY involved in the second half of Zelda's gift, which is a plush boar.
Snickers abound at this point.
With Zelda's present out of the way, you move on to things from the rest of your family. For the most part, these turn out to be a collection of new clothes, ranging from "okay" to "I can never wear this in public."
Your older cousin Carol - who's in her late teens - sent you a card with twenty-five bucks and a scrawled note about not knowing your personal tastes well enough to avoid getting you something you wouldn't like.
Uncle Rory, meanwhile, got you a small bag of magical potpurri, like the one he showed you some months back as an example of the charms he'd been buying. Unlike that only mildly-magical and strictly temporary protective pouch, this one's aura has a stronger, more lasting feel to it - if still not precisely what you'd consider permanent - and when you hold it in your hand, you can feel a small, flat stone about an inch across inside. You don't open it up to inspect the contents, as that would probably break the minor enchantment. The whole thing gives off an aura similar to your own Spell of Protection From Chaos.
Based on your own experiences with item-crafting and magical resale, a gift like this would have cost upwards of a hundred dollars to produce, meaning that your uncle probably paid twice that much purchasing it - at minimum.
You're not sure how you feel about that. Yes, you DID save Rory's taxidermy collection from being possessed and reanimated, and you have been helping out in small ways at the garage, so him wanting to express his gratitude does make sense. That said, your uncle isn't exactly rolling in cash, and the knowledge that he spent a couple hundred dollars or more on a gift whose effects you can recreate for a trivial cost in time or mana is a bit... uncomfortable.
"That looks like some of Fiona's work," Mrs. Madison notes, aura twitching in a way that betrays the use of the subtler form of Mage Sight.
"My uncle said a while back that he buys good luck charms from a lady by that name who runs a shop back home," you tell the witch.
"Have you met her?"
You shake your head. "I've been trying to keep my head down in Sunnydale, and introducing myself to someone who deals in genuine magic items, even minor ones like this, seemed like a bad idea. Especially if she had any customers in at the time."
Catherine smiles wryly. "You DO leave quite an impression."
"Sometimes not even with his fists," Tatsuki snickers.
Gained Fiona's Talisman
There is only one possible response to your sister's presents, and that is to thank her and give her a big hug.
Which you do.
"Does he have a name?" you ask Zelda as you release her.
She shakes her head. "Uh-uh."
Well, then. You know what you must do.
Part of you wants to set aside your reservations about the cost of Rory's gift, and just accept it in the spirit that it was given. This internal voice - which incidentally doesn't sound a thing like your Inner Ganondorf - points out that a few hundred dollars isn't that big an issue.
You saved the man's collection of stuffed animals, which would have been worth many times that amount in materials and labor alone, to say nothing of the sentimental value to him.
Not only that, but between your on-again, off-again visits to the auto shop, tooling around in the garage at home with your dad, and studying up on the contents of the book of Automotive Magic that Balthazar gifted to you on your trip to New York, you've significantly improved your ability to use magic on cars and car parts. If the cost of your birthday present is really that much of a bother, you could pay it back several times over just by magically-restoring a few car parts.
Thinking on it a bit more, you decide to go ahead and do that. Casting the Spell of Mending a few times on your next visit to the shop is a trivial investment on your part, and one you're more than capable of concealing the use of.
Having received one protective talisman from Uncle Rory, you decide to see what you got from the Hakubas next. Magic items meant to be worn on the body have a slight drawback in that you can only wear so many of them at once, and seldom - if ever - more than one on or over a given part of the body at the same time. If you've been given two magic pendants, you might have a bit of a problem...
Fortunately, that turns out not to be the case. Rather than an omamori, the Hakubas have given you an ofuda, and unlike the talisman you got from Kagome for use in the Familiar Binding Ritual, this one isn't made out of paper and ink, but a piece of wood onto which the characters of the prayer - for "good fortune" - have been carefully carved.
Said symbols glow faintly blue thanks to the spiritual power that's been imbued into them, and Koujirou recommends hanging the ofuda near the center of your house, so that the blessing can cover the entire home equally.
Gained Ofuda of Good Fortune
After addressing your concerns about the Hakuba's gift, you decide to open a few presents that aren't obviously magical, just to try and keep things interesting.
Larry and his grandmother have done the two-gifts-in-one thing as well. One of these is a large tin, of the sort you get chocolates in at Christmas, which has been filled with some of Lily Blaisdell's homemade chocolate chip cookies, baked fresh just yesterday morning. Score!
The other part of the present is a Dr. Doom action figure.
Gained Dr. Doom Figurine
The next gift within reach comes from Amelia Reinhardt. Prior to her arrival on Bali Ha'i the previous afternoon, the two of you had only met in person the one time, back at Kahlua's birthday party, and for all that you've stayed in touch through letters since then, Amelia is easily one of the people you're least familiar with. That lack of direct interpersonal interaction may or may not be reflected in her choice of gift, which is an old-fashioned leatherbound tome, with the word "Vampyr" written across the front cover.
Cracking it open and glancing through the first few pages, you find a wealth of material regarding the common blood-drinking corpse-demon. Some of it is definitely stuff you could find on Demons, Demons, Demons, such as common physical traits and vulnerabilities, typical habitats and lairs, and feeding habits, but there's more that you don't recall reading on the webpage. The index mentions chapters like, "Vampyrs Throughout the Ages," "Surviving the Vampyr," "Hunting the Vampyr," and "Vampyrs and Magick."
There's even a chapter near the end of the book titled, "Vampyrs and Modern Weapons," which has you flipping ahead to find the images of several very modern guns drawn in an anachronistic style.
You definitely weren't expecting THAT.
"Which edition is that?" Kahlua asks curiously, causing you to look up.
"An advance copy of this year's printing run," Amelia replies.
Gained Vampyr, 2000 Edition
Do you have anything to say about the book?
You hold up Zelda's gift with one hand, and proclaim, "I dub thee... the Little Boar Spirit!"
"Da-da-da-daaaa!" Zelda chimes in, as the fairies once again sing out in chorus.
Through the familiar bond, you feel the upwelling of exasperated resignation that accompanies Briar facepalming.
Gained the Little Boar Spirit
You regard Larry's gift for a moment, and then turn to look at the one who gave it.
"Doom is pleased by this tribute," you acknowledge.
Privately, you resolve that you're going to get Larry a lightsaber for his next birthday - one of the toy props, rather than a magical one.
It's not entirely because of the potential cost of such a thing, although that is a concern. After all, you just got through feeling uncomfortable about accepting a present worth a couple hundred dollars from your uncle. How would Larry feel, if he figured out how much an enchanted lightsaber cost? You're already pushing things on that front with the Backpack of Holding, which cost you a thousand dollars' worth of reagents, and could have been sold for twice that amount, based on the going rates for similar, smaller items that you've seen at Gen's.
The other reason you're reluctant to give Larry a magical lightsaber is because he'd never be able to use the thing without it being immediately obvious that it WAS magic. At the very least, you'd have to read his parents in on the supernatural act and your personal magical abilities, and while you don't object to that per se, you know that Larry's folks have a mix of genuine ignorance of and willful blindness towards the supernatural going.
Plus, Lily is already on less-than-great terms with her daughter-in-law.
The point is, a forced revelation for the Blaisdells is not likely to go over well, and you'd rather not provoke that kind of unrest for Larry over a minor matter like a birthday present.
As you close your new reference book, you turn to Amelia, thank her for the very pertinent gift, and then ask how common copies of it are, and how hard they are to get.
"Very common, and not too hard at all," she replies.
"If you don't have your own copy of at least one edition of 'Vampyr,'" her mother adds, "you don't have a proper library of the supernatural."
"Most serious collections had a copy even before the printing press was invented," Akasha agrees. "All that's really changed is that more of them are up-to-date these days, and some people are snobs about owning multiple editions."
...how fascinatingly petty.
"Well," you say, "I certainly know what book I'm going to be getting everyone in the not-too-distant future. In the meantime, under the old adage that knowledge is power and wisdom brings age-"
A puzzled Tatsuki turns to Ichigo. "That's... not how that saying goes, right?"
"It's not," the strawberry agrees with a frown.
"It does make sense the way he said it, though," Misaki adds.
"-I propose group study sessions at my place, for anyone from Sunnydale who hasn't read this." You wave the book once, lightly, for emphasis.
Your family and Sunnydale friends trade glances.
"Probably a good idea," Cordelia admits.
After setting Amelia's gift aside, the next one that comes to hand happens to be from Moka. Opening it up, you find a surprisingly fierce-looking plush dog, all sleek lines, black fur, and fanged snarl.
The Christmas Plush Invasion may be coming back to haunt you.
You look at Moka, and hold up her gift, asking if the dog has a name.
She smiles. "I did consider calling him 'Alex,' but no."
After that, you decide to open up one of your magical presents. Since the leaf-wrapped parcels from the fairies are the smallest of those, you take a deep breath, brace yourself for shenanigans, and open one of them.
Inside is a Hylian-style "wallet," actually a small leather pouch with the image of a Green Rupee tooled on the side, and two actual Rupees dangling at the ends of the drawstring. The enchantments woven into it include the damage resistance common to magic items, and a mix of Abjuration and Divination Magic that feels like it's currently inactive.
Gained Hyrulean Wallet
Briar advises you to run a little magic and ki through the Wallet. That will get it to bond to you, making it harder (though far from impossible) to steal.
You do so, and the mingled magic promptly "wakes up," registering your aura and then fading away behind a simple aura-concealing ward.
"How many Rupees will this hold?" you wonder, measuring the Wallet with hand and eye.
"A hundred is traditional for a kid your age," Briar answers. "Keep in mind, that's the maximum number of Rupees, not their actual value."
You'll have to keep an eye on that, you suppose, and remember to cash in large numbers of the smaller denominations for their more valuable counterparts. Or get a bigger Wallet.
Or you could just keep storing Rupees in your dimensional pocket.
Shaking that off, you open another of the fairy packages, one whose contents don't seem to be enchanted at all. As you unfold the leaf, you see...
Bwahahahaha!
...oh, they didn't.
Oh, they did.
Slowly, disbelievingly, you take out a green tunic, matching floppy hat, and cream-colored undershirt and leggings.
A titter of amusement runs through the assembled fairies.
Your more fairy-sensitive guests look around, their expressions ranging from puzzled to suspicious to Ambrose, whose greater insight into your soul issues appears to have let him put two and two together.
Lu-sensei's Buddha smile suggests he's realized the joke as well.
You wrack your brain for names that would be appropriate for a dog, but which would also suit this particular plush canine, coming to you as it does from a young vampire.
And then you have it.
"In that case," you declare, "I shall call him 'Fang.'"
Moka rolls her eyes, but doesn't get a six.
Gained Fang
When fairies attempt to prank you, there are only two acceptable responses.
The first is to prank them back, harder, but this isn't a good time to do that. It would derail the party, and the currently depleted state of your magic reserves just makes it a bad idea regardless.
Fortunately, your other option is to roll with the joke, and make it your own.
Setting the outfit aside with the rest of your gifts, you pluck the floppy hat from the top of the pile, cast the Spell of Prestidigitation to turn it a fiery, Dinnite red, and then tug it down on your head.
"How do I look?" you ask the crowd.
"Like an overgrown Christmas elf vacationing in the tropics," Cordy remarks bluntly.
Several other guests do a double-take at her words, but then take another look at you and start to nod at the aptness of the description.
You nod. That works.
There are four more fairy gifts waiting to be opened, and since you're fifty-fifty for serious gifts and prank gifts so far, you decide you might as well keep going and see if you can keep up or improve that average.
The third package of leaves is a proper gift, though it's definitely meant more for Briar than you, as it contains several tiny wooden chests, like pint-sized versions of the ones scattered all over Hyrule. These resist your efforts to pull them open physically - not that you try very hard - but open easily when Briar lays a hand on them. One chest is packed with fairy-sized outfits, while the second holds a tray of eating utensils - all made from the same brassy metal as Robin's mathematical tools - cups carved from tiny nuts, and bowls and plates whose origins you can't immediately speak to. The third chest seems to have a bunch of blankets, and the fourth one is full of random knicknacks that - save for their size - wouldn't be out of place in Ambrose's lab or Gen's shop.
Briar makes a series of cheerful, increasingly high-pitched noises as she looks quickly through the contents, then slams all four chests shut, tells you to be careful with them, and then flies off to thank her siblings.
...speaking as her partner, you'll count that as a good present.
Fairy Gift Number Four is another small leather pouch, although this one lacks the magical aura of the Wallet. When you peer inside, you find that it's been stuffed full of Deku Nuts - about twenty of them, you'd guess.
"They're always useful!" one of the larger fairies proclaims.
"No they're not," one of the smaller fairies protests.
Without missing a beat, the bigger fairy amends his statement: "They're always useful for anyone who's big enough to carry them in their pockets!"
"...annoying, but fair."
Gained Deku Nuts
The fifth present from the fairies is one that goes almost hand-in-hand with the bag of Deku Nuts - namely, a slingshot. It's perfectly non-magical, though the handle has been beautifully carefully carved with leafy patterns and Fae symbols.
The Nuts themselves are too large to fit the small weapon, but as another of Briar's larger siblings explains, if you carefully crack a Deku Nut open, you can take out the Seeds inside and use those as ammo. As a bonus, Deku Seeds are still somewhat explosive-
"Does EVERYTHING in that kingdom explode?"
"There are times when it seems that way..."
-even if the flash they produce is smaller and less intense than a full-sized Deku Nut.
Gained Fairy Slingshot
Your father frowns at this gift, and murmurs in confusion, "But where did they get the rubber...?"
As for your final gift from the fairies, it's a wooden ocarina. Again, there's no hint of magic about it, despite the aesthetically-lovely carvings.
Gained Fairy Ocarina
Gained Fairy Leaves (x6)
...part of you has to admire the young fairies' thoroughness in their attempts to get you dressed up and kitted out like a certain young Hero.
Another part can't help but wonder how the hell they managed to get their mother to go along with this.
And a third notes that the level of craftsmanship shown in the Ocarina is several steps above those of the Slingshot, the outfit, or any of Briar's gifts, implying that whoever made it has a LOT more practice doing so than whoever made all the other items...
"Give it a go!" one of the fairies calls.
...actually, you'd kind of like to know that yourself.
You share your father's curiosity on that topic, and go ahead and voice it.
"We use magic, of course," one of the smaller fairies replies. While she's polite enough not to prefix or punctuate that statement with a, "Duh," you can hear it in her tone.
Koron pipes up then and explains that there are certain trees in Hyrule whose sap can be transformed into rubber fairly easily. The trees in question won't grow in most parts of the kingdom without magical aid, as they're meant for a warmer climate, but the volcanic activity that gave rise to and sustains Death Mountain has also created hot springs and other vents throughout the land, and some of those areas remain warm and wet enough year-round to sustain the trees. They also grow in and around the Lost Woods, where the blessings of the fairies, the Great Deku Tree, and the Forest Temple help plants of ALL kinds thrive, even when they normally wouldn't.
"Anyway," the druid says, "you collect some sap from one of those trees when there hasn't been a recent frost, and either get an arcanist to transform it directly, or hunt down an alchemist to do it the long way."
"That's almost exactly how people on Earth originally made rubber," Balthazar muses. "Right down to the part about trees native to tropical or sub-tropical climates. Did someone happen to transplant the seeds for those trees from a different part of your world?"
"If they did, it was too long ago for the records to have survived to our day," Madam Lanora interjects.
"And it's always possible that the seeds migrated through Faerie and into the Lost Woods without intelligent direction," Koron adds.
Yeah, the Lost Woods are definitely weird enough for that to happen.
You see no reason to object to the request, though you do offer up a quick prayer: "Farore, please don't let me be too terrible at this."
I got your back, kid.
Adjusting your grip on the ocarina - and noting in passing that if you keep growing at the rate you have been, you may well end up with hands too big to properly work this instrument - you raise the whistle to your lips and give a few experimental blows, shifting your fingers around to get a sense of which holes help produce which notes.
It doesn't sound completely horrible.
Gained Music E (Plus) (Plus)
Encouraged, you attempt to play a simple tune. There's an impulse to mimic the Song of the Storms by playing its basic meter, but you've only gotten three notes into the tune when you hear a distinctly off-key whistle.
You end up just trying to play the basic "Do Re Mi" sequence. The unfamiliarity of the ocarina and the issue of controlling your breathing work against you, such that it takes three attempts to get as far as "La," by which point the audience is alternately chuckling or smiling in amusement, or else faking winces and covering their ears.
While you do manage to complete the scale, and then play it backwards, it's clear that you definitely need more practice if you're going to play the ocarina in a public venue, much less for any length of time.
A good first try, though!
Gained Ocarina F
Setting the fairy gifts aside, you go through a few more.
Tatsuki and Ichigo pooled their funds to get you a set of protective gear for sparring: head protector; full-length gloves that cover everything from the knuckles to the elbow; knee pads; and shin guards. There's nothing magical about this gift, although you do pick up a modest residue of Karakura's spiritual energy clinging to them.
You might actually be able to punch or kick a ghost while wearing this stuff, assuming you met another ghost while carrying the pads around, and were so inclined to deal with it.
Gained Sparring Pads
From Isshin, Masaki, and Akkiko, you get a dark blue ring binder filled with illustrations and information about the common spiritual entities of Japan. You recognize some of the critters from your copy of Tobin's Spirit Guide, but there are few if any youkai in the pages you leaf through; it's all ghosts, pure spirits, and denizens of the various afterlives.
It includes several pages on Hollows, which are about as horribly twisted and unsettlingly humanoid as you'd expected.
There's even a page - just one page, though it's two-sided like the rest - on Shinigami. The figures pictured there are faceless and near-genderless, more like clothing dummies displaying the uniforms of specific ranks - Unranked, Seated Officers, Lieutenants, and Captains, to go by the captions - than actual individuals.
Gained Japanese Spirit Dossier
Then you go ahead and unwrap the present from the Water Tribe. As the cloth falls away, you find yourself holding a wooden stick of the correct proportions to be the haft of a short spear. The wood itself is familiar to you, as you helped the Water Tribe harvest lumber of precisely this sort some months ago. The handful of symbols that have been carefully carved into it are also not outside your experience; you remember seeing them, or at least markings of the same general "language," on items inside Elder Tiriaq's residence.
If it's meant to be a spear, though, it's missing a head.
As the shaman explains, it's traditional for a tooth, horn, or bone from an animal you've personally hunted specifically for that purpose to be fitted as the spear-head. This isn't a weapon to be wielded in battle, but a spiritual totem to commemorate significant events in your life, ward off misfortune, and generally show others who you are and what you've done - particularly when you're dealing with the Spirit World.
"Though you seem to be doing just fine on that front," the shaman adds dryly, not looking at Kahine, Navi, or any of the numerous and varied ghosts assembled in the audience.
Gained Trophy Spear
