You ask the Water Tribe shaman for more details about how you're supposed to go about acquiring a head for your new spear. Can you affix it yourself, or should you bring it to him or another spiritual expert?
Tiriaq is quick to explain that, if you mean to go on a spirit quest to "complete" your spear - not that this is the best term for it, since the Trophy Spear is very much meant to be a work-in-progress for the better part of your life - you should definitely seek the counsel of a shaman first. It doesn't have to be him; in fact, given that he lives in Antarctica and you live all the way in California, the argument can be made that it shouldn't be him. The spiritual environments of those two regions are as radically different as the physical ones, and the sort of spirits the Elder is used to dealing with are unlikely to even exist in your spiritual neighborhood. A local expert who already has a working relationship with the spirits you'd be dealing with would be a much better choice than a shaman who'd be starting from scratch with them, and doing a lot of guesswork in the bargain.
Ambrose pipes up, then, mentioning that there should be a trustworthy shaman or three on that list of names he gave you a while back - though as far as he's aware, none of them were Water Tribe.
Tiriaq says that doesn't matter.
"After all, the boy isn't Water Tribe, either. If he can find a shaman from his own people to help with the quest, it would likely go more smoothly."
You make a mental note to check Ambrose's List later. For the time being, you set the Trophy Spear aside and get on with opening your remaining gifts.
Aside from the spear, there are a couple more presents from the Water Tribe. Sokka got you your own boomerang, one that's made from the same wood as the Spear rather than the metal his boomerang is.
Gained Wooden Boomerang
Katara's gift is a rather well-stitched pair of mittens, consisting mainly of leather and fur. There's a blue and white wave-like pattern on the back of each glove, and you have to wonder exactly where she got the dye for the colors.
"I noticed your hands seem to get stiff because of the cold when you visit, even with your gloves," Katara explains. "These should work better."
It's a nice gesture, and you appreciate it as such, even if it isn't truly necessary. Between your winter gear, your ki skills, and your magic, you were never in any danger; mostly, it was just your upbringing in sunny SoCal leaving you completely unprepared for the bitter cold of Antarctica.
That said, you will definitely wear these mittens the next time you visit. And if they prove to keep your hands warmer than your gloves do, you'll keep on doing so, with a smile.
Updated (Ant)Arctic Winter Gear with Water Tribe Mittens
Next, you open the packages from the Hayashi Clan.
Asamu got you a book of Japanese legends involving kitsune. There's a bookmark placed towards the back, and when you open the text up to investigate, you find a chapter devoted to Tamamo-no-Mae.
The illustration on the first page of the chapter is not the fox-eared miko you summoned, but a ravening nine-tailed fox with the same kind of ragged fur and mad, hateful eyes you saw in the confrontation with Lady Takara - except that where HER true form was about the size of a large horse, Tamamo's is contrasted with an entire Japanese CASTLE.
The shiro is NOT the bigger of the two.
You really hope that was an example of Tamamo's illusion magic at work, of unreliable witnesses, or of artistic license, but something tells you the image is accurate.
Gained Kitsune Legends
Emiko got you two gifts. One of these is another book, which appears to be a collection of famous koans, their origins, and meanings. Her second present echoes Moka's in being a response to the Christmas Plush Invasion. Where you made Emiko a plush raven sitting atop a writing desk, she gives you a small humanoid figure with large, bare, hairy feet, old-fashioned clothing, a bluish blade in his right hand, and his left hand held over his pocket.
Gained Book of Koans
Gained Plush Bilbo
From Emiko's sisters, you receive another book of kitsune legends. Where their father's gift seems to run the gamut of tales and messages, a quick look at the table of contents for this tome suggests that it's dedicated to... a particular theme.
Namely, tales of romance between humans and kitsune.
Gained Kitsune Legends, Romance Edition
Emiko is giving her sisters a suspicious and worried look.
They're collectively grinning at her.
Emiko's suspicion and worry intensify.
You turn to one side and heft the boomerang, as if about to throw it out to the left of the dining area, away from the crowd. Halfway through, you pause and turn to Sokka.
"Any tips for a first-time boomerang thrower?" you ask.
"...as a matter of fact, yes."
The young Water Tribesman rises from his seat and hurries up to the stage, where he proceeds to give you a quick run-down on how to hold, throw, and catch a boomerang. He uses his own, recently-enchanted steel boomerang to demonstrate, which some people might say is a poor tool for the task.
You just pay attention, and then give your new gift a toss with what you think is about the amount of force Sokka was suggesting you should use.
Your Wooden Boomerang goes whistling off into the distance-
"Little too much force, there," Sokka notes, "and you threw it into the wind."
-makes a curved turn, comes back, and angles into the ground several feet away.
Gained Thrown Weapons Training D (Plus)
"Not the best first throw," you note objectively.
"Also not the worst," Sokka says helpfully, clapping one hand on your shoulder.
"That's true," Katara says, her grin audible. "Why, the first time Sokka picked up a boomerang-"
"We swore never to talk about that!" Sokka bursts out.
"We did," Katara agrees, still grinning. "But Dad didn't."
Sokka stares at his sister with silent horror, and then slowly turns to look at his father.
Hakoda hums thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want to hold things up-"
"Ohthankyouspirits," Sokka sighs, looking to the sky.
"-but there's always later."
And like that, the boy wilts. "Ohspiritswhy?"
The reactions have your curiosity about this incident up, but perhaps now is not the best time...?
There is a difference between friendly teasing and just being mean. The line between the two can sometimes be a fine one, making it difficult to tell when a particular taunt, which might be considered gentle under different circumstances, suddenly turns cruel.
Fortunately, this is not one of those times. It's pretty clear that this particular book was chosen as part of an attempt by certain of Emiko's siblings to embarrass her. From the look of things, three of the quadruplets were in on it, while the fourth - the long-haired Rina - knew, but disapproved. Nobody else in the family seems to have been involved with the selection of this "present," although there are enough suspicious, interested, and resigned looks flying around now to make it clear that the whole family has cottoned on to the attempted prank.
While you do take a certain amount of personal enjoyment from seeing and hearing a flustered Emiko, you think that teasing her in front of all your assembled guests would be going a bit too far - especially when one of the sisters that was actually aware of the prank appears to disagree with it.
If a KITSUNE thinks that a joke is going too far, then it probably is.
Besides, you're honestly not sure if you're even old enough to read some of these stories. And even if you are mentally mature enough for the subject matter, bringing them to the attention of even younger people like Zelda could still be ill-advised.
You'll want to check on that, and maybe get a second opinion - but later.
For now, you close the book without comment and add it to your increasingly large pile of opened presents.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see disappointment flash across three foxy faces.
The next present to come to hand is Kahlua's. It's another two-part present, consisting of a complete boxed set of the Slayers anime, and a silver pendant with a curious red-speckled green stone set into it.
"It's heliotrope, or bloodstone," Kahlua explains. "It's one of the traditional birthstones for this time of year, and is supposed to have a lot of protective abilities."
Looking at the stone with your mystical senses, you do get a hint of that. The stone isn't inherently magical or artificially enchanted, but from the feel of the energies bound up in and clinging to it, it would make a natural anchor for a variety of beneficial magical effects.
Gained Bloodstone Talisman
Gained Slayers Boxed Set
Following that, you open up the rather large and heavy present that has Amy's name on it. Upon seeing the small cauldron beneath the wrapping paper, you can't help but give the Madison women a Look.
"Trust me, Alex," Catherine says wryly. "There are some potions you just don't want to brew using modern cookpots."
...that's the Voice of Experience talking, or you're a Hylian.
There's also a small book tucked into the cauldron, with the title, "Traditional Reagents For the Modern Witch." Leafing through the first few pages, it appears to be a listing of common materials for brewing potions and crafting magic items, and how to go about acquiring them when you live in the middle of a modern residential neighborhood. The "how to" portions of the entries range from tips on finding and harvesting wild-growing specimens or raising them in a garden, to business both mundane and mystical that deal in the necessary goods.
Gained Cauldron
Gained Traditional Reagents For the Modern Witch
While it's obvious that there's a story behind Sokka's reaction, it's also clearly something that's rather embarrassing for him. It would be ingracious and just plain mean of you to encourage the topic being aired in public, especially right after you accepted Sokka's present and got some pointers from him on how to use it.
Besides, you muse, as you hop down from the stage to fetch your new throwing weapon, you're a Boomerang Brother now. A title like that should come hand-in-hand with an obligation to keep your fellow returning stick thrower's secrets, shouldn't it? Solidarity, and all that.
Dusting off your boomerang, you return to the stage, thank Sokka for his advice, and don't say a word about Katara and Hakoda's remarks.
Sokka un-wilts a bit, and returns to his seat.
Undoubtedly, this decision not to humiliate one guest feeds into your unwillingness to play along with the prank Emiko's three older sisters tried to pull on her with their "gift" to you, when you unwrap it a minute later...
You're tempted to compare Kahlua's second gift with the Demon's Blood Talismans worn by Lina Inverse, but you have to admit that the attempted association kind of falls flat. Despite its name, the bloodstone is mostly green in color, with only flecks and streaks of rusty red, whereas one of the Talismans from Slayers would be a deep, solid ruby. Similarly, the bloodstone has a teardrop cut rather than a circular one. Finally, while the bloodstone's aura hints at a number of potential uses, the direct amplification of magical power doesn't feel like one of them - especially not for the sort of destructive purposes Lina is shown calling on HER Talismans for.
Given all those factors, the joke doesn't really hold up, and you let it go unvoiced, instead simply thanking Kahlua for the presents in the same way you have your other guests so far.
She appears content with that.
The next gift you reach for turns out to be from Dave. It's a figurine of a boar small enough to fit in your hand, carved somewhat inexpertly from a single piece of wood and bearing a single enchantment. The command word - "Oink" - is scratched into the underside, and when you set the pig down on the stage and trigger the magic, the carving suddenly comes to life.
It takes one look at you, grunts with squeaky menace, and bows its head as it begins pawing at the stones with one hoof. Then, with a high-pitched "BWEEE!" of challenge, it chrges headlong at your foot.
The subsequent impact feels like a kitten or something just ran into you. It's nowhere near enough to shift your balance, whereas the tiny wooden pig rebounds as if from a stunning impact.
You'd swear you can see its eyes swirling in their sockets.
"Arf?"
Glancing over, you see that Moblin has stopped gnawing on his bone - which is now devoid of most of the meat that was clinging to it earlier - and is now paying close attention to the piglet-sized image.
You turn to Dave.
"I, uh, made it myself," the young sorcerer explains. "The same word turns it off... usually."
Quirking an eyebrow, you reach down and pick up the pig while it's still acting stunned. It promptly starts squealing and struggling in protest.
"Stop that," you order it, trying to channel some of your Totem's presence.
*Grunt.*
The animated object freezes and then goes limp, staring at you wide-eyed.
You nod, and speak the command word again, returning it to its inanimate state.
"Of course it listens to you right off," Dave sighs.
Gained Wooden Boar Figurine
From Balthazar, you get a coupon for $250 dollars at the Arcana Cabana, and a pair of old man shoes.
Gained Old Man Shoes
Dave hangs his head at that, mumbling something about, "Never going to let that go..."
Then there's the cloth-wrapped cylindrical present that bears Priest Cato's and Magus Hermanus's respective magical signatures. Unfurling the cloth reveals a standard in the style that the Memorian legions must have inherited from their Roman predecessors, for despite being carved entirely from wood, it features the same sort of fierce animal emblem perched atop the crosspiece - not an eagle, but a great tusked and bristle-backed boar, posed as if about to charge, and remarkably accurate to the Raging Boar.
On the red banner hanging from the pole is a plainer replica of the Fifth Legion's emblem, the single rose and its wreath of swords silhouetted in black, with the initials "L V M" beneath. Below those are the letters "I M A" whose meaning Captain Marcus explains to be, "I Magus Auxiliare," or "First Magical Auxiliary."
...apparently, for waking them up from a thousand years of unquiet slumber, fighting alongside them as they purged their disgrace, and getting them back in touch with their patron, the undead legionaries have decided to adopt you as one of their own.
As for the magical energies bound up in the banner, it's an assortment of minor but useful magical defenses. Nothing too outrageous: wards against hostile magic, weapons, and plain old bad luck; blessings of virtue, valor, and strength; and of course, a bevy of reinforcements upon the banner itself, so that it won't simply turn into a fancy oversized torch the first time someone sets off a Fireball nearby.
Gained Memorian Standard
You're by no means an expert on ancient Roman military culture, much less that of their mystical successor-state, but you know enough to appreciate that being given one of their battle-standards is a Big Deal.
With that in mind, you grasp the standard with your right hand and - while keeping the pole as straight as possible - bow respectfully in the Memorians' direction.
Moving as one, the ghosts of the ancient soldiers rise from their seats and salute you.
"I'm honored," you say, "but I have to ask: are there any responsibilities or obligations that come with accepting this gift?"
Some of the Memorians chuckle, and Captain Marcus says, "You're years too young yet for military service, much less citizenship. Just be sure to take good care of it."
Nodding, you head over to your family table and plant the standard in the ground a short distance away, scraping sand into a pile about the base with your feet to help it stay upright. Once you're sure it's stable, you warn Moblin and Zelda not to knock it over, and return to your gift-opening.
Last year, Cordelia bought you a cellphone with a full year's prepaid calling plan - a plan that happens to have a couple of weeks left on it before it runs out, although your folks have already gone ahead and paid for an extension. Cordy kept the practical approach going this year, by getting you a calligraphy set and a selection of personalized stationery to go with it.
"Maybe you're not writing as many letters as you used to," she says, "but some of the people you've started writing TO are kind of majorly important. Good handwriting is something you're going to need."
Gained Calligraphy Set
Gained Personal Stationery
Given your correspondence with the Shuzens, the Drakes, and the Hyrulean Church, you can see where she's coming from with this.
Cordy also got you a selection of Marvel comics featuring appearances by Dr. Doom.
Gained Dr. Doom Comics Collection
...she and Larry coordinated on this, didn't they?
"I thought about getting you the Hellsing manga," Cordelia mentions, referring back to her Halloween costume and the series that inspired it. "But..." She trails off with a meaningful glance at Zelda.
"Not suitable for younger readers?" you guess.
"Definitely not."
If this series is violent, horrific, or otherwise "mature" enough that Cordelia thinks Zelda shouldn't see it, you do kind of have to wonder how she got her hands on a copy in the first place. But that's a question you can ask her at another time.
Besides, the answer is probably a mix of, "I'm rich, duh," and "It's Sunnydale, nobody cares."
Shaking off that faintly depressing thought, you open up Ayane's present - which actually turns out to be two different, individually-wrapped packages, one of which has Kasumi's name on it.
"She wasn't allowed to visit," Ayane explains with a smirk. "Nobody said she couldn't get you a present."
Sneaky.
You sent the ninja-girls plush throwing stars for Christmas, and they've responded in kind: Ayane got you a point yellow hat with a wide, floppy brim, the sort of thing you'd see a stereotypical witch or wizard wearing in any number of fantasy series; and Kasumi gave you a dark blue hooded robe that completes the look.
Gained Black Mage Outfit
In addition to returning the prank, Ayane got you a Japanese war fan which displays a vivid sunset landscape when unfolded. Although the elaborate image and the high polish of the lacquered wood frame makes it look like the fan is intended strictly as a showpiece, the ribs are steel, and their pointed tips extend far enough past the top of the paper that you could - at least theoretically - stab someone with the thing. The weight of the object is such that you could also deliver a fairly strong blow with it when it's closed.
Gained Sunset Fan
Kasumi also got you a second gift, a book that discusses the history of "yosei" - which is to say, fairies like Briar - in Japan.
Gained A History of Japanese Fairies
Your next gift comes from Lady Takara. It's a beautifully carved wooden figurine of a fox, whose resemblance to the lady's own nine-tailed true form is kind of hard to miss. There's also a subdued but powerful aura of Summoning Magic bound up within it, bearing Takara's signature.
You notice the more magically-inclined adults in the audience sitting up and paying a lot more attention than they were a second ago.
"It does not come to life," Takara says, with a small smile aimed in Dave's direction. "It simply anchors a Spell of Summoning."
"What does it summon?" you ask.
"Me," she replies.
It's not just the adults, now; EVERYBODY is paying attention, and even some of the very youngest are looking startled by the kitsune's admission.
"Only the once, mind you."
You're familiar enough with Japanese etiquette by now that you know it's considered polite to refuse a gift when it's first offered, and you've cultivated a polite persona long enough that you do feel the urge to show your respect for that custom.
However, you also know that among monsters, the rules are a bit more relaxed - when they're observed at all.
More than that, you're a kid and a foreigner, and this is your birthday. If there's ever a time when you could get away with not being on your absolute best behavior, this is IT.
Also, Lady Takara IS a kitsune. If you tried to do the socially-correct thing and turn down her present, it's entirely possible that she might decide it would be funny to take it back.
For all of those reasons, you simply accept her gift.
Gained Wooden Fox
The next few gifts you open come from the Drake family.
As with some of your other guests, Altria has gotten you two presents. One of them is quite large and sits at the bottom of the much-shrunken pile, so you opt to leave it for later; the other, which isn't exactly small itself, contains a plush boar that is decidedly less adorable than the Little Boar Spirit. Given the distinct resemblance to your spiritual totem, you suspect Ambrose was involved in the work.
Zelda is staring wide-eyed at the stuffed boar, which is almost as big as she is.
From Anna, you receive a horse grooming kit, the contents of which look to be the same level of quality as the brushes and similar tools used in the Drakes' own stables.
You're sure Khamsin will enjoy this.
Gained Horse Grooming Kit
From Lucia, who really didn't have to give you anything, but went ahead and did so anyway, you get a new formal suit. The jacket and pants are a fiery shade of red that looks like it will really set off the faded color of your hair, with gold lining the interior and a belt-like what's-the-word - cummerbund, that's it - in the same color.
You make a mental note to wear this suit during a formal event sometime this year, when Lucia will either be present to see it, or can reasonably be expected to hear about it later.
Gained Red Suit
There's also a very small, plainly-wrapped box that doesn't have any name attached to it. Inside are a spent shell casing from a rather large-caliber gun, a twisted sliver of metal, and a note.
It's from the security detail at the Drake Estate - specifically, the guys who were on-shift during the Eclipse and the accompanying invasion from Castle Dracula. The shell is from one of the rifle rounds you enspelled, while the fragment is from one of the grenades that got the same treatment. Evidently, when the gentlemen in question heard through the estate's rumor mill that your birthday was coming up, they decided to contribute a little something, in token of your much-appreciated assistance during that incident.
It's a little inappropriate for "the hired help" to send a gift to a sometime guest of their employer, but your work DID indirectly save their necks, so some kind of show of recognition and gratitude was merited.
Gained Spent Ammo
And then there is the package from Ambrose. Physically, the only thing that really stands out about it is the wrapping paper, a plain dark blue that doesn't appear to have any visible folds. Magically, the gift is even less remarkable, lacking any sort of aura that you can pick up from a casual inspection.
Somehow, this sheer mundanity fails to reassure you. It would be all too simple a matter for a wizard of Ambrose's talents to stuff something outrageous into a box of this size, to metaphorically or literally go off in the face of whoever opened it up, and then conceal or erase all the obvious traces.
You thank Altria for providing the Little Boar Spirit with a big brother of his own.
"Un!" Zelda agrees with a firm nod.
"You're welcome, Alex, Zelda," Altria replies with one of her polite smiles.
You give her a look, and then reach out to pick up the Little Boar Spirit. Shaking the stuffed animal back and forth and faking a small, squeaky voice punctuated by grunting and snorting sounds, you say, "Thank you, Altria."
Your British friend looks away, faking a cough to hide a smile - and then blinks, when she notices most of the kids, the collected fairies and kitsune, her mother, and of course Ambrose regarding her expectantly.
"Um... you're welcome... Little Boar Spirit?"
"Oink, oink!"
For some reason, you are tempted to set the Little Boar Spirit on his new big brother's back, and then laugh maniacally with no explanation. You spare a brief moment to wonder what strange corner of your soul THAT idea climbed out of, then shake it off and set Zelda's gift back down on the stage.
"Now," you muse out loud, stroking your chin thoughtfully as you bring your attention to the other boar. "What to call you...?"
"The Great Boar Spirit?" Sokka suggests.
In the depths of your soul, the Raging Boar rumbles ominously.
"Already claimed by someone a lot bigger and meaner," you tell Sokka.
The Boar grunts, mollified.
"The Not-So-Great Boar Spirit?" the Water Tribe boy tries again. His expression and tone are dubious even as he's making the suggestion, and he shakes his head almost immediately afterwards.
"Biggu Piggu?" Tatsuki offers in accented English.
"Brother Boar?" Dave ventures.
"Alex!" Zelda exclaims.
There is another round of laughter at that.
"I was thinking about calling him Ace, the Very Important Pig," you mention.
Quite a few of your guests react to that with puzzlement - namely, the dead people, the fairies, and the Japanese contingent.
"I don't get it," Kokoa complains.
"I don't get it, either," Kahlua admits to her youngest sister.
"He doesn't have a club-shaped birthmark, Alex," Amy points out. "At least not from where I'm sitting."
"Hmmm..." Zelda leans over in her seat so she can see the other side of your newest stuffed animal, and reports, "Nope! Not on this side, too!"
...that IS a point against the name.
You shake off the impulse to brace yourself for magical shenanigans. Not only would that be playing into Ambrose's hands - if he did in fact rig his present for a prank - it would also look somewhat crass.
Instead, you simply open the box the same way you did all the others, so that if there IS a trick, Ambrose will look all the worse for springing it on you unsuspecting.
As it happens, the box doesn't explode, come to life and start biting you, summon some sort of annoying little monster, or otherwise engage in magical shenanigans when you tear off the curiously whole and fold-free sheet of paper and open the lid.
Resting inside the box is another cellphone. The casing is a big larger than your current model, and it appears entirely mundane to any sense you care to name, at least when examined passively. Considering the source, however...
"Magic cellphone?" you ask Ambrose.
"Magic cellphone," he agrees. "In light of... certain events last year... it seemed like a good idea to give you a means of reasonably secure long-distance communication for supernatural affairs - one that didn't require you to run clear outside Sunnydale to use."
"Define 'reasonably secure,'" you say dryly.
"Read the manual," he retorts in the same tone.
...huh, there is a manual.
Gained Magic Cellphone
Ambrose advises you to keep using your current phone for ordinary calls, particularly ones made out-of-doors on the Hellmouth. This will help to keep your local service provider from getting curious about a sudden and massive decrease in your phone activity, prevent attention from being drawn to your new phone - which really doesn't look like the old one - and also minimize its exposure to corruption.
Ambrose DID ward the casing to resist that sort of thing, but resistance isn't guaranteed immunity.
"'An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,' and all that," he says.
Next up on the list are the Higurashis. From Kagome's grandfather, you receive a bunch of ofuda, which display an interesting mix of his practiced penmanship and Kagome's spiritual power. They don't have the raw power of the ofuda that Kagome made for you last year, but the energy within them is much better contained and directed, its purpose more "defined" by her grandfather's superior craftsmanship.
"You can't be too careful, especially in a town full of demons," Grandpa proclaims, nodding his head sagely.
He's not wrong, though you do wonder what you're going to do with... what, a good fifty ofuda? The idea of slapping them on every wall in your house doesn't appeal, and wouldn't be the best use for them anyway, what with Ambrose's wards already up and running and the Ofuda of Good Fortune you got from the Hakubas to be set up as well. Maybe you could give some of them to your friends in Sunnydale? Set something up at the school with permission from the teachers?
Eh, you're sure you'll think of something productive.
Gained Higurashi Ofudas
From Mrs. Higurashi, you get a collection of homemade snacks - the Japanese equivalent of Lily Blaisdell's bag of chocolate cookies.
And from Kagome herself, you get another calligraphy kit, this one meant for practicing Japanese writing. INCLUDING kanji.
Your hand aches at the thought of all those thousands of characters, but you have to admit, you COULD use the practice writing them.
Gained Japanese Calligraphy Kit
Souta didn't get you anything, but seeing as how you skipped him in the Christmas Plush Invasion and the gifts you handed out yesterday, that seems fair.
Thinking it over a little more, you decide that Amy's point is valid, and a more appropriate name is required.
And then the perfect name occurs to you. You extend your right arm, hand turned like you were about to deliver a vertical chop, and bring it down slowly on the large boar's plush shoulder.
"I dub thee, 'Excaliboar.'"
There is a beat.
Then Ambrose throws back his head in laughter, while all around, the younger fairies giggle. Some of Briar's older siblings suppress snickers and cover smiles, while Navi herself just shakes her head.
"It's not THAT funny," Altria huffs.
"It is!" one of the fairies corrects her.
"It really is!" another agrees.
Sokka looks thoughtful, and slowly points at the British blonde. "Does... that make her the Lady of the Bacon?"
The youngest of the Drakes sputters.
In between laughing, Ambrose manages to get out the words, "No, no. The Lady... of the Larder!"
"Ambrose!"
"You DO raid the kitchen a lot, little sister," Anna notes with amusement.
Gained Comedy D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Excaliboar
By the time you've worked through the gifts from the other members of the Drake family and those of the Higurashis as well, there aren't a lot of presents left to open. Of those few, the one you reach for next is from Beryl. The tag claims that it's also from Cecilia, but you suspect that the older sister is covering for the younger with this, as Cecilia had never met you before and wouldn't have the first clue what sort of birthday present to get you.
Regardless, you don't comment on that out loud. Far be it from you to interfere with a fellow older sibling's efforts on behalf of their little sister.
The tyrian-wrapped box contains some of that purple-black crystal Beryl is so fond of using in her magic and her personal jewelry. Far from the irregular shards and multifaceted walls you saw her calling up in battle back at the World Tournament, the piece within the box has been shaped into a representation of the astrological sign of Aries - a narrow V whose curving arms arc out into two crescent-shaped "horns," evoking those of a ram. Roughly two inches tall, about as wide from the tip of one horn to the other, and no more than a quarter of an inch thick, the crystal is flat and smooth across the bottom, but curiously rough across the top, which has been carved with tiny patterns like dancing flames.
While it's clear that Beryl conjured the crystal, and entirely possible that she shaped the whole thing magically, you suspect that she actually carved the little fire-like details by hand. Mostly becasue, given her raw magical strength and natural affinity for Earth-aspected Conjuration, the older girl ought to be entirely capable of Magecrafting the crystal in such a way that it looked like an ACTUAL flame, supernaturally frozen in mid-crackle, rather than this comparatively simple design.
Issues of its creation aside, the crystal has one other special feature, in the form of a magical aura. It's currently inert, awaiting activation, but it has the feel of Summoning Magic, bound up with Earth and Darkness like much of Beryl's magic.
You think back to the World Tournament.
You recall a withered, shambling, vaguely feminine figure with claws, teeth, and a hunger for life-energy.
You VIVIDLY remember a certain tall, dark, and dangerous entity, a living void in the shape of a man with eyes of blue fire, chasing you through the halls until Ambrose showed up and tried to steal Gandalf's big scene, only to end up splat on his back thanks to a wet floor.
While your relationship with Beryl has improved somewhat since then, it is safe to say that you have... certain concerns about her gift.
After setting aside Beryl's slightly-concerning gift, you open the package from Lu-sensei. Perhaps because you gave him one of your Hyrulean seedlings for Christmas, it contains a book of home gardening tips, a small box of seeds, and a kunai.
Ayane sees the gift and ducks her head, giggling.
You're prepared to write it off as another gag gift when you glance through the index of the book, and notice some unexpectedly interesting chapter names.
Plants and Meditation.
Soil, Water, Sun, and Ki.
Nature Versus Ki Nurtured.
...hmmm.
Gained Lu's Home Gardening Kit
Your three priestly tutors didn't get you any presents, partly because they're dead and such things a touch hard to come by for those properly in the hereafter, but mostly because their contribution to your birthday was the Ring of Trials.
Batreaux, on the other claw, got you a traditional Hyrulean sorcerer's robe. The good news is, it's not in the style or even the colors that a Gerudo witch or warlock would wear. The not-exactly-bad, mostly-just-curious news is that it looks an awful lot like a higher-quality version of the costume Kasumi and Ayane collaborated on - just missing one major piece.
"No pointy hat?" you ask.
"I did consider it," Batreaux admits. "But you would have looked too much like a Wizzrobe that way."
Definitely dodged a magic missile, there.
...though you can't quite keep your gaze from sliding sideways towards the conical, floppy-brimmed hat Ayane got for you.
Gained Hyrulean Sorcerer's Robe
There are many anecdotes about the fates of individuals, groups, and even the occasional large population that poked at a magical item without a sufficient understanding of what it did. Some of these tales are amusing; most are grim; and a handful are downright horrifying.
What they all are, is instructive - and because of that instruction, you mean to know more about this "Aries Crystal" before you risk activating it.
It's just safer that way. For everybody.
After all, if your suspicions are correct, and Beryl's gift actually does summon some sort of life-draining undead creature to serve the wielder of the crystal, it would be better for you to know about that BEFORE you called up the entity in question on the Hellmouth.
Or in some environment that's more likely to impede it, like, say, a church.
Or in front of people who have Opinions about that sort of Necromancy, and are apt to resort to fire and steel to express their feelings on the matter.
Or even a mix of the above.
Goddesses know, your life is strange enough that such a scene isn't beyond the bounds of possibility.
That having been said, you don't need to ask Beryl for details right this very minute. It's not as if you were planning on using her present immediately, or even anywhere on Bali Ha'i, given the place's history with things that go grr, argh in the night. More than that, you know that the red-haired sorceress is protective of her secrets, and would likely prefer to hold such a discussion in private, rather than in a public venue.
Granting her that courtesy costs you nothing but a little time, which you have to spare in abundance, and so you do not hesitate to give it.
Unlike the priests, your old battle-buddy Bando did get you a present, in the form of a geode filled with crystals ranging from clear transparency to milky whiteness to a core of pure, pale blue. It's about half as large as a full-sized bowling ball, making it downright tiny in the hands of a Goron - in fact, given their bulk and dietary requirements, it's probably the equivalent of a bite-sized snack.
It's very pretty, though. Reminds you a bit of the Xenolith you found in Hawaii and sold to Gen, though it's more overtly magical than that was.
Gained Goron Geode
Grey Voice also got you a crystal, an upright, irregularly-shaped spire of glittering silver-grey about three inches tall from end to end, and no more than an inch across at the base. At a glance, it's hard to say if this crystal formed naturally or was artificially grown.
The way it softly sings when exposed to the sunlight, however, makes you think it's the latter, if only because you've never heard of a natural crystal with that kind of property, whether on Earth or on Hyrule.
When you examine the singing stone with your more exotic senses, it reveals not a hint of enchantment, and only partial responses to ki. There are traces of spiritual energy bound up in it, but the greater portion of the power involved is psychic in nature - not that there is all that much of it. This appears to be the psionic equivalent of a cantrip, akin to the Spell of Ghost Sound.
Grey Voice explains that the crystal will "sing" when exposed to light, the notes and pitch changing according to the type and level of illumination. It can be silenced simply by placing it in the dark, though it is also possible for a mentalist to control the sounds.
Gained Singing Stone
Is there something you'd like to ask Grey Voice about his gift?
You were beginning to wonder if the adult Shuzens got you anything, or if they considered paying for their daughters' gifts a sufficient gesture of their regard to satisfy etiquette. Evidently not, as there are a couple of packages with their names on them.
From Issa and Gyokuro, you receive a pair of books. The first discusses the differences in etiquette between humans and monsters, and appears to have been written for the benefit of monsters trying to acclimate to the human world. While you're not exactly a member of the target audience-
You pause to send a push down the familiar bond to Briar, forestalling any comment on that.
-you could still benefit from the lessons inside.
The second book is by the same author, and appears to be intended as complementary to it. Where Volume One discussed behavior, Volume Two covers appearances: what to wear in certain circles, and what not to wear; how to wear clothes; how to modify outfits that were never intended for non-human physiology to gain a degree of comfort; how to FIGHT in said outfits, without tearing them to pieces or getting them irreparably stained...
Huh.
Gained Books of Monstrous Manners
Akasha's present is just a bit cheeky, as it includes a small silk pillow, but resting atop that little jab at the "price" of your services as a sorcerer is a bag of seeds - the sort produced by certain trees, with little wing-like protrusions from the seed pod. The Dark Lord explains that they were gathered from the estate by the spirit of the castle, and the little one seemed quite insistent about giving them to you.
Gained Maple Seeds
With all the other presents opened up, you finally turn your attention to the second half of Altria's gift.
It turns out to be a saddle. Nothing fancy, as you and Khamsin will both outgrow it before long, but well-suited for the task of getting a young and mostly-wild horse accustomed to bearing a rider.
Gained Training Saddle
And with that, you have concluded this phase of the party.
Ekewaka's Island Chorus are up next, but what would you like to do after their performance and tonight's dinner as a whole have come to an end?
Holding the Singing Stone in the palm of your right hand, you turn to Grey Voice and ask, "Aside from the decorative value, is this intended to be a training tool?"
"In the simplest sense of the term," the birdlike spirit admits easily. "My people would give them to hatchlings, to help them learn the basics of mental discipline and psychic control. It was also common to place one near a nest, so that the eggs would always be stimulated while developing, and the hatchlings would associate the music with safety and rest."
So, not the kind of formal training you're undergoing with Lu-sensei or with your teachers at school, but more like a game of Concentration or Simon, with an element of safety blanket or pacifier thrown in.
That last part does beg the question of what exactly Grey Voice means when he uses the word "hatchling." The Earthly term applies to a member of an egg-laying species that has just emerged from its shell, and while some of those are functionally independent from the get-go, others are as reliant upon their parents for survival as human infants would be.
Being subject to the former definition wouldn't really bother you - it would even be appropriate in a lot of ways - but the latter could be a bit embarrassing. Especially if voiced in front of all your friends.
Do you want to press Grey Voice for details?
You've already spoken with Mrs. Reinhardt about the immediate fallout of the Faerie interruption of Jermafencer's trip to the Reinhardt estate, and found that she seemed both satisfied with and not particularly concerned by the quick resolution that her father and the Knight of the Shadowed Mire brought to the situation.
Given that you'd only just met the lady in question in person a few hours prior to that conversation, you aren't completely sure if her reaction was genuine, or if she was hiding her real feelings on the matter. Either way, it would be a good idea for you to talk to Jermafencer about the whole incident, and get his take on things. Partly, this is because you have a more established relationship with the knight than with the lady, and hence can read his reactions a bit better; mostly, though, it's because Jermafencer was attacked while working for you, which means the Lord of the Withered Wood has interfered with your responsibilities as both employer and host.
Mrs. Reinhardt mentioned that Jermafencer was "satisfied" with the outcome of the incident, implying that he's already taken due recompense on your behalf for that insult, but you would like to know the details, just in case it ever comes up in the future.
The only issue is that the dullahan-descended knight isn't currently present on Bali Ha'i, meaning you'll have to resort to magic to have that chat. Fortunately, you don't need to leap through all the hoops of a full calling ritual to speak with him about this matter; a Spell of Sending, scaled up a bit so that it can handle an actual conversation, will do just fine. Cheaper, too.
Excusing yourself from your guests, you find a quiet spot on the edge of the lagoon and settle down as you gather your mana, gradually shaping the spell. After some consideration, you decide to increase the spell's effective ranking by two full tiers, and use the extra energy to extend its duration from a handful of seconds to a good quarter of an hour - likely more time than you'll need, unless the Sometimes-Headless Knight has any bombs to drop, but not so little time that you'd be pressed to finish the discussion before the spell ran down.
After ten minutes of focused effort and chanting, the spell takes effect.
"Sir Jermafencer," you call out, as if to empty air. "Would you happen to have a few minutes available to speak?"
"Young Alexander?" the knight replies with audible surprise. "This is - TASTE COLD STEEL, GODLESS CUR! - most unexpected."
You blink at the unexpected outburst. "Um... did I catch you at a bad time?"
"No, not all, I'm merely - YOUR PACK SHALL GNAW ON YOUR BONES! - dealing with some overconfident monsters who thought - TAKE THAT, SCUM! - they could lair in my domain without my notice. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. What troubles you?"
Hesitantly, and with the periodic interruption of a battle cry or taunt ringing in your ears, you make your inquiry about the encounter with the Lord of the Withered Wood. At the end of it, you tack on, "Would the monsters you're dealing with happen to be related?"
"It's not completely impossible, but I find it highly unlikely," Jermafencer answers. "Even if that craven worm has contacts in Hyrule - COME OUT AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE, YOU FILTH-SPEWING ABOMINATION! - he was in entirely too much trouble with his sire and other kin when Lord Adrian and I departed to even think about making trouble, much less act on it."
While you don't know how old Grey Voice was at the time of his death, nor how long he's been kicking around as a ghost, there have been indications from your very first meeting - in his appearance, his manner of speaking, and his simple presence - that he was of a respectable age when he passed. More than that, after having met a Sage of Hyrule earlier today, you can't help but notice that there are certain similarities between the two, among them that feeling of great age.
From what you know of Elfaron's circumstances, and how long he must have been waiting for the current Hero of Hyrule to show up, such a commonality suggests that Grey Voice may have lived to be very old indeed. At least by human standards.
You figure that if someone THAT old wants to call you a child, you can live with it. Particularly when you HAVE just turned nine years old.
Granted, you might have to reconsider this choice if he's still referring to you by that term when you're in your twenties or something. Until then, though...
Shaking off a momentary curiosity about where, what, and possibly who Jermafencer is fighting, you instead ask the Knight of the Shadowed Mire to elaborate on his and Lord Tepes's second encounter with the self-proclaimed Lord of the Withered Wood.
Amid oaths and exclamations of a battle you can only partly hear, he does so.
After leaving Bali Ha'i, the two supernatural swordsmen drove straight to the portion of Faerie where Jermafencer was first accosted by the Fae knight. With the guidance of a few goblin souls, full of spite for the one who led them into an unwinnable fight and then abandoned them to die, they backtracked from there to the knight's thorn-wreathed hold.
On the face of it, just two men trying to invade a Faerie citadel would be nothing short of suicide - or perhaps insanity - but when one of those men is a Fae-blooded Knight of Hyrule, and the other a relative of the most infamous vampire in history...
Well, you wouldn't have bet against them, but you might have put your money down on the "invasion" taking longer than it did.
That it went so quickly is due in no small part to the castle's servants.
"They were remarkably accommodating," Jermafencer notes dryly.
Considering that one of those servants detected the Spell of Scrying you cast to find the knight, and did exactly nothing to betray its presence even though his master was in the same room, you are not the least bit surprised to hear this.
By the time vampire and dullahan were knocking on the front gates, the troublesome knight's call to arms had been answered by his kin, including his father, the true Lord of the Withered Wood and master of the Castle of Thorns. Said Lord had been keeping tabs on his heir, and was both fully aware of and highly displeased by the mess the arrogant fool had managed to step into.
From the Spell of Literary Vision, you know that the Reinhardts are on bad terms with the Lord of the Withered Wood, due to their blood connections to Dracula. Had it been their family alone who'd been attacked and come seeking restitution, things might have continued as they long had, but attacking Jermafencer changed matters. He'd previously been a neutral party in this little blood feud - more than that, in fact; he'd been completely ignorant of and uninvolved with the whole affair. The Withered Wood, the Bloody Field, and the other domains over which this family of high Fae claim dominion are close to and involved with Earth, and far, far removed from those parts of Faerie that have dealings with Hyrule.
While Jermafencer is as much mortal as he is Fae, he still has connections with the Lords and Ladies of Faerie, particularly through the Great Fairies. In addition, he is yet a Knight of Hyrule, sworn to the defense of the realm, and protected BY the realm in turn. The King to whom Jermafencer swore his oaths is dead and dust, but his bloodline yet endures, and the Goddesses who hold those oaths still watch over them all.
Darn right we do.
In short, thanks to the reckless arrogance of his heir, the Lord of the Withered Wood was looking at his family's private feud with the Tepes bloodline suddenly opening up two whole new fronts, both of which could get into and move through Faerie itself much more easily than the vampires. And one of those fronts had a trio of Goddesses not only backing it, but likely to step in personally.
He was NOT a happy Lord.
In some stories, when a son manages to do something this stupid by accident, his father tries to protect him. Some tales have elder standing alongside younger, united against the world and daring all comers to do their worst; in others, the head of the family acknowledges the wrong done, and strives to mitigate the damage to all parties, in the hope that his son will survive and grow wiser from the experience.
Being of the Winter Court, the Lord of the Withered Wood gave his heir just enough rope with which to hang himself.
He allowed the gathering of their family and allies to go ahead.
He entertained his son's story of confronting a "skulking intruder," discovering him to be allied with their old enemies, and then being forced to retreat in the face of unexpected numbers and strength-at-arms - but not before bleeding his foes and leaving them to lie shamed on the field.
And he quietly left orders with his servants to usher the two gentlemen at the gate to an adjoining room, where they could hear every word of the brat's boastful claims, before having them shown in to make a polite rebuttal.
"That was when I set the little worm on fire," Jermafencer admits.
By this point, his oaths and other outbursts have died down, and the tone of exertion - minor as it was - has left his voice. You can only assume that the battle on his end, such as it was, is over.
"His lord father said much the same," Jermafencer notes.
"...what, really?"
The knight clears his throat, and then quotes, "'You had that coming, boy. You fancy yourself a knight? Then you should know by now not to question another knight's honor if you aren't ready to face the consequences. Especially not when he's in earshot!'"
...
Okay. So while it wasn't a word-for-word thing, the SPIRIT of the two remarks was still similar.
You're not sure how to take the news that you're able to think on the same wavelength as a Lord of Winter, even in this particular instance. While being able to utilize that mindset will be advantageous when you have dealings with that Court in the future - and you don't kid yourself about this; between your partnership with Briar, your previous encounter-at-a-remove with that pretty boy in the suit and his sorceress companion, your link to the Memorians, and your tendency to attract weirdness, it's definitely going to be "when," not "if" - Winter is very much the mean and nasty part of Faerie.
Not evil, at least not inherently, but definitely more prone to acting the part than Summer.
And you're trying NOT to go down that path again.
While you're wrestling with those implications, Jermafencer proceeds with his account.
After letting his heir roll around on the floor for a bit, His Lordship had the servants put out the fire, make sure his son was conscious and in no immediate danger for his life, and then drag the fool to his feet to face his impending judgment. While that was being attended to, negotiations ensued between Lord, knight, and vampire to determine what sort of reparations were in order. Jermafencer uses the term "battlefield diplomacy" to describe the atmosphere: two parties, neither remotely fond of the other, with weapons to hand and decades, perhaps centuries of ill will giving them every reason to mistrust the other and take them for all they were worth; and added to the mix, one Knight of Hyrule, a newcomer to the feud and largely ignorant of the details of the vendetta, save for a quick summary given by Lord Tepes while en route to the Castle of Thorns, with a claim of his own that roughly aligned with that of the Tepes/Reinhardt faction, but did not wholly parallel it.
They eventually hashed out an agreement that the disgraced "knight" - who was, it turns out, nothing of the sort, having sworn no oaths and earned no accolades - would be stripped of his prized armor and what remained of his sword, and forbidden to wear them again or even attempt to have them repaired or replaced for a year and a day. During that time, he would formally apologize and make monetary recompense to Jermafencer and the Reinhardts for his unprovoked attack; would likewise compensate the goblins for their losses in the disastrous battle; and, finally, would repay his FATHER for the vassals killed and injured. The funds used must be earned by his efforts alone; none of the wealth of his family would be accepted. And when not working towards those ends, he would be under effective house arrest.
Assuming the young Fae didn't "make a dog's breakfast of that" - quoting Jermafencer quoting the Lord, here - he would then be handed over to Jermafencer and taken before the Knights of Hyrule, where he would present himself as a candidate for squiring to one of their number. If accepted, he would have the traditional seven years to prove himself worthy of a knight's spurs, armor, and sword - but if he failed in that, or even to earn a single knight's consideration, his prized equipment was to be melted down and sold off, and he would be made to swear an oath to abandon all thought of becoming a knight for the remainder of his days.
You ponder this arrangement. In the short run, and even out to the middle distance, it definitely benefits the people you know.
Certainly, this is an opportunity for the young lord to learn some actual knightly virtues, assuming he can rein in his ego and other unbecoming traits enough to convince at least one of the Knights of Hyrule that he's worth taking on, ride out the seven years of squiring, and not get eaten by any of Hyrule's native or invading beasties.
It takes a fair bit to threaten one of the greater Fae, and more to hold such a being in place so that the mauling can happen, instead of seeing him blink back to Faerie ahead of gnashing jaws - but Hyrule does have a few monsters capable of that, and more that ought to be able to take on a member of the race that acts like the reckless, conceited youth this would-be knight seems to be.
Still, the more you think on it, the more you find yourself concerned by the potential long-term outcome of this arrangement.
You ask Jermafencer who REALLY stands to benefit from this deal, if it results in a future Fae Lord running around with the secrets of the Knights of Hyrule.
"Noticed that, did you?" the Knight of the Shadowed Mire observes.
Just barely, but yes.
"Good! It's always better to be on your guard with the Fae. As for the outcome..."
Jermafencer explains that part of that is just politics. For all that they had the young fool over a barrel, there's only so much that he and Lord Tepes could demand by way of recompense without ensuring that he would lash out, whether immediately or years down the road. Granting him a concession, a route to the knighthood he so clearly desired, helped to lessen the chances of that, while increasing the likelihood that the boy would hold up his end of the bargain.
As for the possibility of Hyrule's secrets falling into the hands of the Fae, Jermafencer just chuckles.
"There's more to being a knight than just swinging a sword, lad. When a squire earns his spurs, he swears an oath - to be valorous, virtuous, and faithful. And did you miss the part where I mentioned who HOLDS those oaths?"
I think he might have.
...you think back, and realize that yes, the Goddesses' relationship to the Knights was briefly mentioned.
To be fair, it came in company with a lot of other information.
"There's a few possible outcomes to this arrangement," Jermafencer notes with an instructive tone. As he starts to list them off, you get the impression he's counting on the fingers of one hand. "One, the silly twit fails to make amends to those of us he wronged, and his life is forfeit. That's unlikely to happen; he was quite motivated when we left."
"I'm sure you had nothing to do with that."
There is a dark chuckle. "I may have speculated about cutting his head off and giving it to those goblins, while Lord Tepes and his daughter's family split the blood between them."
...ew.
Practical, but still ew.
"Two, the boy pulls through the next year successfully, but then fails to make a good impression on my fellow knights. If that happens, he loses the armaments he was using and has to give up playing at being a knight. He'll be angry about that, no doubt, but as it was his lord father who set the terms, that anger will be split between us. Probably leaning more towards His Lordship, at that," Jermafencer adds. "He was openly fed up with having his heir distracted by 'this knightly foolishness,' and if given the opportunity to start shaping the whelp into the heir he WANTS, he'll take it for all it's worth."
Okay, that part makes sense.
"Three, the fool swallows his ego and convinces one of my younger sword-brothers to take him on as a student." There's a pause. "Truth be told, as things stand, I cannot see that happening. Maybe a year and a day of working to repay his debts will shake some sliver of dignity and humility loose - but I swear, it would take a Goddess-given miracle."
Oh, we're staying out of this one.
Color you completely unsurprised.
Success or failure, the outcome will be entirely the result of his own efforts.
"Should he pull it off, you can be sure I'll have spoken with the Knights regarding the circumstances," Jermafencer continues. "They'll know not to show off anything truly sensitive without extracting a suitable oath from the boy first - and recall who I mentioned HOLDS our oaths."
That would be us.
...yeah, an oath sworn to and enforced by the Golden Goddesses seems like the sort of promise that even a Lord of Winter would be reluctant to try rules-lawyering his way out of.
"If the whelp fails to prove himself worthy of knighthood, those oaths will be enough to guard our secrets and prevent their misuse," Jermafencer says. "And if by some truly impossible chance he reforms himself enough to earn that honor... well, then he'll be sworn to serve the Crown, as well as the Goddesses. His lord father will have a few options at that point: disown the boy in favor of a successor who won't have divided loyalties; take his reformed heir as he is and work around the split; work towards an alliance with Hyrule through him; or some mix of all three."
...you think you may be starting to get a headache.
Regardless, this conversation has lasted long enough that your spell is starting to wear down.
With your worries appeased by what you have learned from this conversation, you thank Jermafencer for his patience in answering your questions, wish him a good night-
"It's actually just past noon where I am," the knight replies.
"Have a good afternoon, then," you say without missing a beat.
"And a good evening to you, as well."
-and then dismiss your spell.
After that, you take a little time for yourself and just sit quietly, listening to the ocean waves break upon the beach as you watch the sun slowly crawl towards the horizon. It's not quite a mirror of the exercise and meditation session that you greeted the dawn with today - true sunset is still a while off - but the symbolic symmetry is there all the same, and more than that, after the kind of long and busy day that you've had, it just feels nice to take a break.
...but not too long of one. You still have a few things to attend to before calling it a night.
With that in mind, you eventually pick yourself up and go in search of the Shuzens.
It's pretty simple. Just open your Ki Sense, scan for the largest concentration of particularly dark and vaguely coppery youki you can find, and follow the trail to its source.
A few minutes' walk later, you find the entire family back at the Ring of Trials, with Issa sitting off by himself while his daughters run around the arena, climbing and leaping over the seats and the stands as they engage in a running mock-battle. It appears to be a team-based game of tag, each girl and her new pet or partner pairing off against the rest, and the bats, puppy, and fairy all seem to have gotten into the spirit of things.
Akasha and Gyokuro are present and acting as referees, though it doesn't escape your notice that at least one of them has Issa in her line of sight at all times. They no longer give any impression of being worried about him going nuts due to the dragon's blood he drank earlier; this watchfulness has more in common with your mom making sure Zelda doesn't get into the snacks, or perhaps more correctly, stays in bed and takes a nap on one of those days when she's being fussy.
The young vampires are obviously holding back in their game so as not to spook their new friends, much less endanger them, but - aside from Issa, who's still wearing that seal Akua stuck on him after his Trials - their auras are running somewhat higher than the levels they're normally held to around humans. You figure this is to help Thistle and the animals get used to the feeling of vampire youki in relatively normal and safe surroundings, as opposed to just dropping them onto the youki-stained, straight-out-of-a-Hammer-horror-movie estate grounds without warning.
Seeing as how Issa isn't occupied at the moment, you could easily grab a seat nearby and talk to him about your concerns regarding the disappearance of Dracula's body from underneath Castle Shuzen, and how that loss of purpose might affect the recently-awakened spirit's state of mind.
On the other hand, this is a matter that could use input from all three adults, and does concern the girls besides. It might be better to interrupt their game and get some or all of them involved in the discussion, or at least wait for it to wind down on its own before you proceed.
...you suppose that you and Briar could ask to join in on the fun yourselves, but that might be presuming a bit much. Besides, it HAS been a long day, and while you left your bruises behind in the Trials, the mental and emotional fatigue is still there, however lessened by the subsequent hours of relaxation and good food.
Since Issa is more or less unoccupied at the moment, you figure you might as well discuss the matter with him and then let him make the call as to whether or not it's something that needs the immediate attention of Gyokuro and Akasha.
It's not like you can't arrange a meeting to properly talk things over later, or that the ladies don't have ears keen enough to follow your "private" conversation, even over the noise the girls and their companions are making.
Issa notices your approach, of course, and greets you with a casual nod. "Alexander. Is there something I can do for you?"
"There is, yes," you reply, as you take a seat. "After the Trials, your daughters and I had a discussion that got into the nature of elemental spirits, and Akua raised a point about the spirit of Castle Shuzen that I hadn't considered."
"Oh?"
You recount the conversation, and how it went from talking about Akua's first encounter with the Little Castle, to her explaining to Kokoa how elementals mimic organic life-forms, to how the Castle's spirit was more likely to be "honest" in its interactions with their family because of the long association and connected purpose.
Issa sees where you're going with. "I take it the matter of 'purpose' was what concerned you?"
Mindful of the four young girls within earshot, who may or may not be aware of the nasty little secret their family used to be keeping locked up in the basement, cellar, dungeon, or whatever, you choose your words carefully. How to hint at the matter of Dracula's body, without-
Oh, that could work.
"Not so much over the connection between 'family' and 'home,'" you say, "but as a 'castle,' your home does have the other purpose of 'keeping threats out.' And after everything that happened at Kahlua last birthday party, well..."
"You think the spirit might be... upset, about that?" Issa muses. "About 'failing' to stop an armed invasion from penetrating its walls?"
As he speaks, the man of the house "draws" a symbol in the air with the index finger of his right hand: one straight vertical line; and one curved line, linking the top and the bottom of the first. In other words, a "D." He keeps his hand below the top of the row of chairs in front of the two of you, and punctuates the gesture with an inquisitive arch of one eyebrow.
"It seemed like a possibility to be aware of," you answer, inclining your head slowly. "Of course, I'm hardly an expert the behavior of ordinary elementals, much less a full genius loci, so this could just be me worrying for nothing. Still."
Issa nods.
Well, then, message delivered.
Is there anything else you want to do while you and the Shuzens are all here?
With Issa having received your message, you make your apologies-
"Not going to ask to join in?" Moka says, taking a brief break from the game to let Cinnamon catch his breath.
"Alas," you reply with mock pomposity, "I fear the duties of a host are never-ending, and ever-demanding."
You have to see a sorceress about a summoning stone.
Tracking down Beryl is a bit trickier than finding the Shuzens was. There's only one of her, after all, and while her magic aura is distinctive, she hasn't been letting it flare like they have. Issa and Moka hadn't seen her since the Shuzens left the dining area, and that refrain is repeated or altered by several of the other guests you ask, some of whom finished dinner after the sorceress and her sister had.
"It was really good food!" Sokka protests. "As a guest, I have an obligation not to let the excellent meal my host had prepared go to waste!"
Checking with the summoned servants, meanwhile, reveals that Beryl and Cecilia returned to their rooms after dinner, but only briefly. Cecilia headed out again almost immediately after cleaning up, calling to her sister that she was going to hang out with Cordelia for a bit; Beryl in turn wished her sister well, cautioned her not to go swimming, and then left the Mansion herself a few minutes later without speaking to anyone of where she was going. This was while you were still chatting with Jermafencer, and it's been long enough since then that what little trail her restrained aura would have left has dissipated beyond your Mage Sight's ability to track.
You're considering casting a spell when the fairies come to your aid, mentioning seeing Beryl - or "the red-haired sorceress," as they put it - heading towards the hot springs, carrying a bag of stuff.
...well, then. That's a bit inconvenient. Not that you object to your guests making use of the hot springs, it's just the timing of Beryl's visit that's an issue.
"If you hurry, you could catch up with her!" one of Briar's little sisters offers.
"Or he could walk in on her when she was already in the water," Briar replies dryly.
"You say that like it'd be a bad thing, big sis."
"Humans have rules about that sort of thing, Heather."
"Humans are silly."
"Well, you're not wrong..."
"We could go!" another fairy offers, as she flies into your field of view, bobbing up and down. "We could take her a message! It wouldn't matter if she was bathing or not, 'cause we're all girls, right?"
"Hey, I'm a guy!" one of the fairies protests.
"Me, too!"
"What, really?"
"What do you mean, 'what, really!?'"
"It's just, you're so pretty..."
"Guys can be pretty, too, you know!"
"Yeah!"
"Ye- wait, we can?"
"No way!"
As the little fairies devolve into an argument, you reflect that one of them did have a good idea. Not that you'd be sending any of these little lights to deliver a message to Beryl, much for the same reason you wouldn't trust some of the Earth fairies you've met or had described to you by your partner - they're airheads.
But you could send Briar to talk to Beryl. Not only is she more than mentally mature enough not to forget the message or wander off - or both - but as your familiar, this is exactly the sort of task she's supposed to help you with. Having Briar speak with the sorceress is the next best thing to being there yourself, and you can trust her not to blab about what she learns.
Alternately, you could just tell Briar to let Beryl know you'd like to speak with her after she's finished with her bath, while you go attend to something else.
"Besides, I'd feel bad about intruding on family time." You nod to Moka, adding, "Thank you for the offer, though."
"You're welcome."
You decide to send your partner to speak with Beryl, and also give Briar the choice of how much to say about your concerns with the Aries Crystal. It's a sensitive enough topic that you opted not to broach it at dinner, and while the part of you that's firmly a 20th Century California boy finds it strange to think of bathing as anything but a private activity, you have enough experience with Japanese culture by now - to say nothing of your flickers of inherited memory - to know that plenty of people consider social bathing to be a perfectly normal arrangement.
Of course, Beryl isn't Japanese or Hyrulean, but the point remains that it's possible she isn't the only person taking advantage of the hot springs for a post-supper soak.
Alternately, the sorceress may simply prefer not to talk shop when she's relaxing, or to talk at all while she's in the bath. You know you'd find it a little uncomfortable, trying to carry on a conversation under similar circumstances.
Before sending Briar on her way, you bravely volunteer to play the role of distraction, so that the other fairies won't follow her and cause shenanigans.
"I will remember your noble sacrifice," Briar says somberly.
Bowing graciously, you turn to face the cloud of arguing fairies, and clear your throat.
"-boys, and there are some things-"
"-small-minded excuse-"
"-of course it's small-minded, we're fairies, you-"
You try again, this time speaking. "Hey, guys?"
"For the last time, I'm not a girl!"
"But you're wearing a skirt!"
"It's a kilt!"
Sigh.
"HEY! LISTEN!"
As one, all the little fairies stop, turn, and exclaim, "YES, MOM!"
Briar just about falls out of the air laughing.
"Wait a sec!" a green-glowing fairy says. "He's not Mom!"
No, really?
"Wait, what?"
"He's right! We've been tricked!"
"Oooo..."
"How could you, Briar's partner?!"
Without even trying, it seems.
"I say we get him back for that!"
Faced with half a hundred little fairies bent on a completely unjustified revenge, you do what you must to keep their attention off of their older sister.
You turn and run away.
"After him!" that one green fairy commands.
"HUNTING CRY!" the others chorus, before following after you.
You spend the next ten minutes or so leading Briar's siblings on a merry chase across this part of Bali Ha'i. Although you could resort to Ki Enhancement or Body Flickers to leave them in the dust, that would defeat the purpose; instead, you pace yourself so that their little wings can keep up, while also keeping them at a safe distance.
Even though the sun hasn't hit the horizon yet, the cloud of glowing bodies pursuing you draws attention. More little fairies fly in as if out of nowhere, joining the game.
"Yeah, get him!"
"Woo-hoo!"
"Why are we chasing him?"
"Because everyone else is!"
"You actually knew the answer this time!?""
"Alex," Cordelia exclaims as you approach her, Cecilia, and Amy, "what the-"
"Can't talk, busy running, excuse me, thank you, bye!"
Altria takes one wide-eyed look at your pursuers, turns around, and walks - not runs - the other way.
Tatsuki starts laughing as soon as she lays eyes on you-
"Is she laughing at us!?"
"Get her, too!"
-which she swiftly comes to regret, as about half the cloud peels away from pursuing you, to chase her off in a different direction.
...hmmm. Maybe this distraction has gone a little too far? It's one thing to have the fairies chasing you, but when they start going after your other guests...
On second thought, nah. Navi's kids aren't the sort of fairies who'd hurt somebody, and Tatsuki has enough speed and endurance that she can probably keep ahead of them until they get bored with chasing her or forget why they're doing it. If they do catch her, she's also tough enough to take whatever pranks or minor magical mishaps they dish out.
Besides, she really did bring it on herself. In the future, she'll know better.
Still, this is probably a sign that now would be a good time to bring an end to the chase, before anybody else gets caught up in it. You've bought enough time with this distraction that any trail Briar might have left will have gone cold, at least to the level of magic her smaller siblings are capable of mustering, and more to the point, after the excitement of the chase, most of them probably won't connect her absence to what you were talking about before.
Even if any of them do, it's been long enough by now that Briar's either already finished talking to Beryl, or is getting close to it. Probably the latter, if the emotional impressions still passing along the familiar bond are any indication.
With all of that in mind, you focus your ki, and flicker away-
"Whoa!"
"Where'd he go!?"
"That's cheating!"
-leaving the fairies to eat your proverbial dust.
There was one other person you were considering talking to after this, but you didn't see or sense a trace of Lu-sensei's presence while you were running from the fairies, or even while you were looking for Beryl before that.
After spending a few minutes poking around as best you can-
"He went this way!"
"After him!"
"Wait for meeee!"
-while keeping your head down in case of fairies, anyway, you shrug and give it up. Lu-sensei just doesn't seem to be anywhere near the designated "party area," and he departed long enough ago that even the part of the log-seat he occupied for dinner no longer gives off his presence, even to a quick active application of Ki Sight.
You briefly consider trying to reach out with your Ki Sense, to see if you can extend the range at which that skill works, but-
"How does something that big just disappear like that!?"
"Keep looking! He has to be around here somewhere!"
-with all the little fairies buzzing around in their threes and nines, it feels a little too risky. You can't escape the feeling that a longer-ranged version of Ki Sense would require a degree of meditative focus, sending out a pulse of energy, or both, and none of those options strike you as ideal when there's half a hundred tiny fairies on the hunt.
Suppressing your aura, you sneak back to the Mansion where your family, Cordelia, and Lu-sensei are staying, to see what, if anything, the servants have to say about your teacher's absence.
That turns out to be nothing, as he's not been back since some time before dinner.
You leave a message for your master with the servants, to let him know that you'd like to talk when he's got a minute - probably tomorrow morning, since you're planning on making this evening an early one, after all the day's excitement.
Briar catches up with you a couple of minutes later.
"Hey, partner," she greets you, as she flies in the front door of the Mansion. "Good work on the distraction; I was able to talk with Beryl without even one of the squirts showing up."
"Shhh! Lower your voice and close the door!"
Your hushed words stop Briar in her flight-track, and she hovers there in the entryway for a moment, her presence keeping the portal to the Mansion open. Then, with an audible sigh, your partner flies the rest of the way in, allowing the portal to close itself behind her.
Not that you were ever worried about the other fairies coming into the Mansion after you - the magic that created this place only allows designated individuals to enter, and you didn't exactly add "all of Navi's kids" to guest list when you conjured these extradimensional apartments - but an open door would have let them see and hear what was going on in the front room, if any of them happened to pass by.
"Alright, Alex," Briar says in a patient tone. "What did you this time?"
"I'd kind of like to know that, myself," you reply, before quickly summing up the merry chase you led the small fairies on, how you tried to end it, and how things unexpectedly went from 'tag' to 'hide and seek.' "They're surprisingly persistent," you conclude.
"Well, yeah," Briar says, shrugging. "Only big enough to have one thought in their heads at a time, remember? Sometimes that means the attention span of a gnat, but just as often, it means they don't get bored easily. You led them around long enough that 'catch Alex!' was the only thing they were thinking about, and then you went and disappeared, which didn't really do anything to change their minds on the subject."
There is a brief pause as you consider that.
"What do you suppose the odds are that some of them saw you, followed you to find me, and are lurking out there" - you nod at the closed portal - "right now?"
"Unlikely, but not impossible," Briar admits. "I mean, I didn't see any of these little patrol groups you mentioned while I was flying here, but that's a little suspicious in itself. Even as single-minded as they are, some of them could have seen me coming, thought to follow me back to you, and hidden themselves before I spotted them."
"...if I walked out there dressed up as El Doom, do you reckon they'd fall for it?"
Briar's answer is a groan. "It depresses me how likely that idea is to work."
That's still an affirmative.
Making a mental note, you ask Briar how things went with Beryl.
Your partner informs you that the sorceress was willing to explain the Summoning Magic she imbued into the Aries Crystal. As it happens, the crystal doesn't have the ability to summon anything on its own, undead or otherwise, but if you use it as an added focus for a Spell of Summoning, it should allow you to extend the duration of the spell.
"'Should,'" you echo warily.
"Should," Briar repeats, acknowledging your concern. "You're both using sorcery, but you're definitely using different styles. Beryl admitted the crystal might only work for summoned creatures similar to the ones she calls up."
So demonic imps in football jerseys and withered undead women?
...heck of a gift there, Beryl.
From Briar's explanation, the Aries Crystal won't be consumed when you use it, as some reagents of this nature might be. However, it will sort of "fuse" with the summoned entity and remain as part of them until the magic holding them in this world ends.
Briefly, you picture a summoned creature dissipating back into the ether, and the crystal falling to the ground, inviting who- or whatever passes by next to pick it up.
Luckily, Beryl thought to include a variant on the Spell to Retrieve An Item in her present, so the crystal will teleport back to you on its own if its "host" is defeated, dispelled, or just runs out the timer.
Gained Aries Crystal
With that settled, is there anything else you want to do this evening? It's coming up on a quarter to seven, and you were thinking about calling it a day a little earlier than usual...
The memory of the Trials you faced this afternoon, the sheer amount of mana you poured into allowing others to take the Trials, and the general emotional ups and downs of the entire day have taken their toll, and while it's not even seven o'clock local time, you honestly think you could call it a night and sleep until dawn.
After a bit of thought, you decide to go ahead and do that - after first letting your guests know that you're turning in early. With everything that happened today, you're pretty sure everybody will give you a pass on upholding your responsibilities as a host, and there's really nothing else on your to-do list that you absolutely MUST take care of tonight.
Having settled that in your own head, you reach into your dimensional pocket, take out your Dr. Doom Halloween costume, and start putting it on.
...on a related note, it's probably about time for you to go through the contents of your pocket and figure out which items you absolutely need to carry around with you all the time, which are just nice to have, and which ones can and should be left at home unless there's good reason to take them along.
It was one thing when you were worried about Hellmouth radiation mucking up your modest collection of reagents, but ever since Ambrose warded your house, you haven't really NEEDED to carry all your stuff with you.
Plus, you got a LOT more stuff today. If you try carrying all of it around with you as well, you're probably going to have to divert more mana to expanding and maintaining your personal storage space. It's one thing to do that for a few hours at a time, when you've just laid hands on something valuable and need to get it home (or wherever), but to do it on a constant basis? You'd really rather not, if it can be helped.
Once dressed, you ask Briar to spot you a Spell of Illusion. She obliges with a sigh, and you (almost) feel the (nonexistent) weight of the accouterments which (do not) settle upon your person.
Over your chest, crossed bandoliers, filled with "bullets" of carved crystal.
At your left hip, a holstered arcane device of crystal and wood, half wand, half six-shooter.
Upon your shoulders, a poncho of arcane runes.
Atop your head, a sombrero with dozens of tiny skulls hanging from the brim.
And hanging gracefully from your masked face, a glorious mustache.
The portal reopens as you stride forth, but no sooner have you set foot upon the sand than dozens of tiny lights surround you on all sides.
"Let's get him!" one voice cries.
"Yeah! Heee-whoa, what the-"
"Gah! Dark Lord!"
"He who stands before you is no mere Dark Lord!" you object dramatically. "Behold: EL DOOM!"
On cue, the guitar and castanets play a rousing intro.
"Gah! El Doom!" that one fairy obligingly panics.
"...since when was Briar's partner a Dark Lord?" another fairy asks in confusion.
"El Doom has no partner," you scoff. "El Doom is merely being escorted by this fairy, as befits El Doom's standing as a guest."
"...that is the second most obvious lie-" one of the fairies begins, before being drowned out by the others.
"Wait, he's a guest?"
"Was there somebody dressed like that?"
"Maybe? I mean, there's a lot of big people stomping around..."
"...seriously, guys? Seriously?"
"Unless there was an important matter, El Doom has business elsewhere."
"Uh, yeah, sorry about that, El Doom."
"We thought you were someone else."
"...cannot believe we're related..."
"El Doom forgives you - this once." With a courteous nod and a tug at your (not really there) sombrero, you stride forward, a path through the cloud of confused fairies opening before you.
"Alright, everybody!" one of the leaders cries out behind you. "Split up and keep looking for Briar's partner!"
"Yeah!"
"We'll find him, even if we have to comb the whole island!"
"That would take a pretty big comb..."
"Or a whole lot of small ones..."
The cloud disperses - mostly. One of the larger fairies remains behind, flying up alongside Briar.
"What's up, Moonbeam?" Briar asks the pale white presence.
"All our little brothers and sisters are complete idiots," the other fairy sighs.
"Yup." The two glowing figures drift closer together, and you get the impression Briar is giving her smaller sibling a comforting pat on the back - or, given the positioning of fairy wings, maybe just the shoulder. "But look on the bright side."
"There's a bright side?"
"You're smart enough to recognize their idiocy, instead of being dumb enough to just go along with it."
"That just means Mom's going to ask me to be responsible for them!"
"...okay, you're right; there really is no bright side."
As the sisters commiserate, you make your way back up the beach to the dining area. You passed it while running from the fairies, and although your guests have since finished eating - some longer ago than others - a fair number of them were still sitting around, chatting over drinks. A lot of your hired ghostly help was hanging around as well, which makes it a good spot to let it be generally known that you're calling it a night.
Sokka is the first to notice your approach, and he STARES.
"Don't look now," he says to the small crowd, "but I think the fairies got Alex."
Pausing the conversation she was having with Katara, Emiko turns around to see what Sokka is talking about.
She promptly proclaims, "Hail, El Doom!"
"Hail, vixen," you reply with a nod, before turning to Sokka. "And for the record, O Boomerang Hunter, your host was not 'caught' by the fairies. They still hunt for him, unaware they have been deceived by a most cunning disguise."
"...you dressed up like a lunatic to fool the fairies," Sokka guesses flatly.
"El Doom obejcts to the use of the term 'lunatic,'" you say mildly.
"If the sombrero fits," Briar notes.
"Silence, escort."
"And this... worked?" Sokka asks in disbelief.
Moonbeam sighs. "Our little siblings are idiots."
"It's not the first time El Doom has taken refuge in audacity," Emiko adds.
With that out of the way, you inform your guests that their host will be retiring early, on account of fatigue from the eventful day. As you'd expected, your announcement is met with general acceptance, various nods of understanding, and assorted variations on "goodnight." Zelda gets up from where she'd been talking with Mio and Miu to give you a big hug. Moblin also rises at the mention of sleep, shaking off the sand and trotting over to your side with an interested expression.
Shadow Alex shoots you a look that just DARES you to try and dump your hosting responsibilities on him, and then dismisses himself - though not before Zelda gives him a hug, too.
A complicated expression crosses your doppelganger's face as he vanishes in a puff of smoky Shadow mid-hug.
You excuse yourself and return to your room for a well-earned rest, pausing only to change out of your costume and perform your evening exercises, meditation, and necessary ablutions. Moblin takes the opportunity to curl up in the large, comfy dog bed that was included with the Mansion's furnishings, and is out like a light when you finally take a page from the same book and climb into your own bed.
It's somewhere past five but still well shy of six when you wake up the next morning. Ten straight hours of uninterrupted sleep have left you too rested to remain in bed any longer, regardless of the fact that the sun isn't even up yet. Checking on your mana, you see that you've more than doubled what you had left in the tank when you closed your eyes, putting your reserves at just slightly shy of half full.
A fair-sized portion of the power you recuperated last night is going to go up in smoke when you summon the third and final batch of Memorians, and you do have that spar with Emiko scheduled for later on, so she can test out the Amulet of Shadow-Stepping you made for her, as well as the "ultimate technique" you shut her down in the middle of during your spar the other day.
Perhaps you should restrict yourself to ki for that rematch?
Eh, you'll see how you feel about it when you get there.
Following your morning routine, you exit the Mansion to take in the pre-dawn darkness of Bali Ha'i on the last day of your birthday celebration, with Briar yawning from her place on your shoulder and Moblin tagging along at your heel. A slight breeze rustles the leaves, the waves sigh as they always have, and unseen insects chirp; apart from those expected noises, however, it's quiet and still. No ki, youki, or magical power disturbs the natural energies of the island, though on the spiritual side of things, you can dimly sense activity - a consequence of all the ghosts you called up, who of course do not require sleep.
You consider your options.
You're on a beautiful tropical island, you've got no responsibilities that need your immediate attention, your guests are all either still in their beds or otherwise occupied, and it's just you, your dog, and your yawning fairy partner.
Why NOT take Moblin for a stroll around the island? Or the nearer part of it, anyway; from what you've seen while climbing Kahine's volcano, Bali Ha'i is too large to circumnavigate at your usual dog-walking pace in any convenient length of time. It'd probably be a full-day trip.
"Come on, boy," you say to your dog. "Let's go for a walk."
Moblin's ears and tail droop in an unexpected show of reluctance as he whimpers once at your not-exactly-a-command, but when you start to walk away, he follows.
Wondering at your dog's odd behavior - he's usually perfectly happy to go for a walk - you lead Moblin down the beach, in the direction of the Ring of Trials. As the two of you trot along, you keep one eye on your surroundings and the other on Moblin at all times. He, in turn, stays fairly close to you, which again is quite unlike his usual self; like some other dogs that aren't on a leash or particularly well-trained, Moblin will roam back and forth across your path, investigating scents, sounds, and sights that catch his attention. He never wanders too far or anywhere that the two of you can't see each other, but that's only to be expected.
Sunnydale breeds certain habits in its children, be they man or beast, and-
You abruptly stop in your tracks, feeling an urge to facepalm.
Of COURSE Moblin was reluctant to go for a walk. The dimmer stars are starting to fade from view as the first light of dawn creeps up from the eastern horizon, but it's still fairly dark out, and you've spent YEARS at this point making sure you and your dog are never out after dark, for very good reasons.
Or more correctly, very bad ones. With teeth.
There are no demons on Bali Ha'i, but Moblin may not have the capacity to really grasp that, and even if he does, he'd be working against years of ingrained habit and who knows how many generations of instinct. That's not even getting into the fact that most of the island is entirely unfamiliar territory to your dog, which is another wrinkle guaranteed to put any Sunnydale resident with half a brain quietly on edge.
You need look no further for proof of that than your own guarded evaluation of your surroundings.
"Well, this is an idea I could have thought through a little better," you admit with a sigh.
"Whaaaat's that?" Briar asks through a yawn.
"Taking Moblin for a walk in the dark," you reply.
"I was wondering when you were going to realize what had him upset."
"Was he complaining?"
"Just a bit." In as deep a voice as she can manage, Briar adds, "'But I don't want to go for a walk in the dark, Alex.'"
You reach out and rub your dog behind the ears. "Sorry about that, boy. I wasn't thinking."
From the way Moblin's tail starts wagging, your momentary brain lapse is forgiven.
"BATTLE CRY!"
And then suddenly, fairies.
You, Moblin, and Briar wordlessly yelp in unison as a cloud of living lights comes flying at you from out of freaking NOWHERE. The little pests had the presence of mind to sneak up on you from behind, so you didn't glimpse their glowing forms even out of the corner of your eye, and thanks to your limited Fairy Sense and the "blind" for Fae energy provided by Bali Ha'i's unspoiled (super)natural environment, you didn't sense Briar's siblings coming until they made themselves known.
Your habitual wariness and trained reflexes are all that spare you from getting plastered from head to toe by the accompanying spray of glowing fairy glitter-bombs, but even then, you're just such a big target that a few of the magically-driven "attacks" can't help but hit.
Lacking your physical prowess, Moblin fares even worse, and yelps anew as his entire left flank is covered with a riotous rainbow.
"Direct hits!"
"Yeah, we finally got him!"
"The hunt is a success!"
"Oh, I do not believe this," Briar groans. "Are you little idiots saying you stayed up ALL NIGHT looking for Alex?"
"Sleep is for the weak!"
...well, you can't say they aren't dedicated.
"Yeah, okay," you admit. "You got me. Good game! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take Moblin back inside."
"Aw, already?"
"Why?"
"He doesn't like being outside when it's dark," Briar informs her siblings.
"What, really?"
"But that's one of the best times of the day!"
"What about when the sun is up?"
"That's the other best time!"
"We live in a place that has a lot of demons roaming around after dark," you tell the little fairies.
There's a pause at this, punctuated by a collective, "Oooh..." of realization.
"Okay, that makes sense."
"I wouldn't want to go out after dark in a place like that, either."
"I wouldn't go out in the DAY in a place like that!"
"That poor puppy!"
"Hugs!"
Moblin makes a sound of confusion as about a dozen fairies suddenly glomp him - and then yelps as the remaining half a hundred or so pile on after them. It's a good thing Zelda has gotten him accustomed to getting hugs from out of nowhere, because otherwise he might have reacted in a manner more likely to hurt some of Briar's brothers and sisters, like giving himself a hard shake to throw them off.
Briar gives her siblings a moment before she starts shooing them off your dog. "Alright, brats, come off of him. You heard Alex, he has to go back inside."
"Awww..."
"Don't wanna!"
"Bye, doggy!"
"We'll play later!"
"Help! I'm tangled in his fur!"
It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually even the most reluctant, unfortunate, or simply dumb fairies have been removed from Moblin. As you start to lead him back to your Mansion, you advise the little glowing people that they should probably go and get some sleep if they've been awake as long as they say.
"Real fairies don't need sleep!"
"Actually, sleep sounds like a great idea."
"Yeah, I could use a nap."
Several fairies don't reply with words, but yawns.
After that, they start drifting away in every direction, looking for places to grab a few hours of shut-eye, or longer. Before they're entirely out of earshot, you hear several of them arguing about who can sleep the longest.
There's still a handful of fairies insisting that they don't rest. Briar tells you to take Moblin back inside while she wrangles that bunch.
You're tempted to offer to stay and help, but your partner has big sister privilege, and probably doesn't need your help in this matter anyway.
Moblin once again follows you without complaint, and perks up a bit when he sees you're headed back to the row of Mansions. When the door to your extra-dimensional suite opens up at your approach, Moblin dashes back inside, tail wagging happily as he makes a beeline for where one of the Gerudo-styled servant constructs is just setting a bowl of high-quality dog food on the floor.
Your gaze drifts from Moblin's breakfast to the tables, which are currently bare, but could be filled with a hearty morning meal at a word from you. The beast in your belly rumbles in approval of the idea, though not with the intensity that demands immediate satiation.
You're hardly starving, and the idea of grabbing a meal all by yourself when there are dozens of people on the island feels rather lonely. Even the prospect of Moblin's presence and Briar's likely return only goes so far to counter that, and so you decide to wait a while before grabbing something to eat, whether it's in here or outside at the main dining area.
After Moblin's cleaned out his bowl, you see him back to his bed, and then leave the Mansion to resume your early morning walk. Rather than set out for a stroll partway around the island, you end up returning to that platform at the top of the Ring of Trials, where you sit and watch the sun rise on the last day of your birthday celebration.
Mouse doesn't show up to practice with his blade this morning. Given how serious he seemed about it yesterday, as well as how daily practice is more or less a given among serious martial artists - at least those of your acquaintance - you figure the black-haired fairy just picked a different spot to train today.
You're pretty sure you didn't frighten him off with that spar; despite the explosive ending, Mouse was clearly enjoying the match as much as you were. Maybe he just found the Ring to be too small, or wanted to train on terrain other than sand...?
Regardless, the sun is mostly above the horizon when you finally get up to leave. With the day having properly begun, Bali Ha'i as a whole has woken up, replacing that vaguely-uncomfortable hush of the pre-dawn hours with birdsong and the occasional noise from your guests-
"Alexander Harris, I challenge you!"
-although that noise in particular is much clearer and closer than the others you've heard so far.
Trying not to jump out of your skin, you turn about and look down into the arena, where Emiko stands proudly, right hand raised and index finger aimed straight at you in dramatic emphasis of her words. Briar is hovering near her.
"...I did promise you a rematch," you admit, as you find your voice. "Are you sure you want to have it out now, though? I'm pretty sure you haven't even had breakfast yet, I certainly haven't, and there's nobody else around."
"A spar would help me work up an appetite," Emiko replies. "As to the last, I'm just as happy not to have an audience." She grins like the fox she is. "The fewer people who see my secret technique now, the more of them I can catch with it at a later date."
You suppose that works.
In any case, you don't have any real objection to fighting Emiko.
As you descend from the squat tower that crowns the Ring, you check your reserves. It's been most of an hour since you woke up, which was time enough for a little more mana to build up in your system. You have enough now that you could afford to spend some on a fight, if you wanted, although that would likely set back your recovery of your full strength by another day. All your other fuel tanks are at capacity, so there's nothing to worry about there.
Reaching the sandy floor of the arena, you pick a spot across from the young kitsune, exchange bows, and adopt an opening stance.
FOXY FIGHTING FANGIRL: HAYASHI EMIKO
On the whole, you don't want to use magic for this fight, both because of your ongoing recovery and because it would make things too easy. That said, there is one spell you feel it would be acceptable to cast, and as you take your place in the Ring, you do so, using the Spell to Summon A Weapon - duration shortened to a quarter-hour at most, rather than a good two and a half hours - to bring forth a blunted training replica of the same style as your Blessed Sword.
Emiko responds to that by slipping one of her scrounged palm leaves turned youki-reinforced, electricity-wreathed sword out of her right sleeve.
The two of you stand like that for a long moment, squaring off in near-silence, the only sounds you make those of your feet scraping lightly across the sand.
Then someone - maybe you, maybe Emiko, maybe both of you - moves a little too far and too quickly, and the slow contest of stance and position launches into a speed blitz.
Even before you attacked, you were recalling the form of the strike the Hylian Knight, Sir Oldman, displayed in his one-move, first-strike, all-or-nothing duel with Lu-sensei, and trying to replicate the stance. As you launch from standing start to striking step, you know you didn't get it right - the way Emiko blurs out of the path of the blade - illusionary clone being sliced in half and puffing out in her wake - is a good clue, there, but even leaving your opponent's evasion aside, something about the move feels wrong, in a manner you can't quite put into words.
It's not that you screwed up the form; that much, you're sure of. True, you don't have Sir Oldman's sheer level of experience with the technique, those decades of training, trials, and battlefield use that made the move and others like it as natural to a Knight of Hyrule as breathing, but it wasn't that complicated an attack, either.
Both hands on your blade, held to one side, and swung forward and across, edge parallel to the ground.
The problem is that Sir Oldman was committed to his strike in a way you didn't manage to achieve, here, a sort of... not exactly disregard for his own well-being, but more a sense that what Lu-sensei was doing was not important, that in that instant, the only thing that mattered was striking.
While one part of your mind has been noting all of that, the rest has been tracking Emiko and bringing your ki-enhanced body around to face her counterattack.
*CLACKANG*
The sound of reinforced leaf clashing against blunted steel is neither the fierce song of swords you heard so much of yesterday, nor the dull clack of wooden training weapons you've heard elsewhere, particularly during visits to Altria's, yet it has elements of both.
The crackling hiss of the electricity that dances along the surface of your crossed blades is a new one. Fortunately, the charge is not that strong; a direct hit would likely numb the area it hit, and perhaps momentarily stun you, but all it does this way is limn your sword and sting at your hands a bit. Not enough to compromise your grip, just enough to be noticeable and annoying.
*CLACKANG*
*WHOOSH*
*SCREEOW*
Your one-handed Ki Blast shooting through another Doppelganger sounds completely the same, though.
You'd thought to try using ki and spiritual attacks in tandem, but Emiko has seen you fight more than often enough by now to know that giving you any kind of time to prepare is a bad idea, and she doesn't make that mistake. So many fake Emikos come rushing at you from different angles over the next thirty seconds that it almost seems to be raining foxgirls, and every single one of them is armed with a crackling leaf-blade. You unleash a barrage of Ki Shots, dispersing a portion of the mob, dodge those strikes you can, use your sword where you must, and Body Flicker to escape the swarm - yet they do the same, and just keep coming.
There's no attention left to spare in that kind of scrum for experimenting with spiritual techniques that might not get rid of a clone, let alone mind blasts that you don't even HAVE yet.
You can and do send a few uncharitable thoughts Emiko's way while you're being mobbed, but either you failed to get your mental energy behind them, or they just didn't have any effect.
And then you feel Emiko's energy spike the way it did yesterday, when she declared she was going to use her ultimate attack.
Good on her for not only NOT repeating the mistake of announcing it, but also charging up the move while you were busy.
Standing across the arena floor, hands raised over her head and body wreathed by youki, Emiko growls as her pale, strained face SHIFTS at the edges, flesh sprouting fur, teeth lengthening into fangs, and nose warping into a canine muzzle. The effort of invoking her "super move" while also mobbing you with clones is clearly taking a toll, but the young kitsune persists admirably as her energy spreads out above the arena floor, forming a roiling blue-black cloud.
"Hidden Leaf Style Secret Technique-"
"-FOXFIRESTORM!"
...you're not sure if that's supposed to be all one word, or if the syllables blending together was just the strain getting to her.
Either way, it doesn't change how the cloud of charged youki opens up like the thunderhead it resembles, sending a literal storm of wispy blue flames and ragged blue-white lightning bolts raining down on the sands. Emiko's remaining clones poof out en masse, engulfed by the bombardment.
You've used Words of Power often enough yourself that you have no complaint with the basic idea of calling your attacks - at least not in a situation like this, where Emiko wisely used her mob of clones to keep you busy and well away from her while she called up the very spell-like bombardment technique.
Trying something like that in melee wouldn't have worked; in fact, as you demonstrated yesterday, it wouldn't have worked at a distance against an unhindered and sufficiently fast-moving opponent. But Emiko clearly remembers that lesson, and has adjusted her tactics to account for (and shut down) the possibility of you Body Flickering at her.
Full marks, there.
...you might suggest that she look into shortening the name, though. Whether spoken in Emiko's native Japanese or in the English translation, there were a lot of syllables in there. The less time she gives her opponents to register and react to her moves, the better.
"Foxfire Storm" is much less of a mouthful, especially when it's said in English.
You saw and sensed Emiko's attack coming with enough time to spare to charge up a couple of ki techniques, and you do so, going with the Sword Beam first, since that doesn't impede your ability to fend off the mob of clones with your summoned sword. It takes more of an effort to get into the proper opening stance for the Spin Attack, as that can't help but compromise your guard somewhat, but it's really more a matter of choosing the correct moment; actually entering the stance takes barely a second, and you've thinned the fake Emikos' numbers enough by this point that they no longer threaten to literally bury you in illusory bodies.
So you pick your moment, and when the fire and lightning come crashing down, swallowing the back ranks of the skulk of foxgirls, you seize the opportunity - and your sword - with both hands, and channel the energy of your powered-up Sword Beam as you begin to whirl in place.
Gained Cleave D
Gained Spin Attack E
Gained Sword Beam C
A seemingly solid ring of light momentarily surrounds you as you spin about, your extended blade slicing through Emiko's illusions, even as a blue-tinted whirlwind rises around you to greet the oncoming storm.
Tongues of pale blue fire fall like a sheet of rain, only to be swept away harmlessly by your short-lived funnel cloud.
The ragged bolts of blue-white lightning descend far more irregularly irregularly, such that of the twenty-odd discharges you absently count across the entire arena, only three truly threaten you. One of those hits the ki-infused current of air around you, and is either deflected or absorbed - you can't tell, as it lands when you're midway through your spin, and have your back to it. The second bolt, which impacts when you're entering the final quarter of the rotation, punches through your pocket windstorm and flashes through the air in front of your face, close enough to make every hair on your head stand up, and also leaving you momentarily flash-blinded, but otherwise doing no harm.
The third and final bolt-
*ZAPOW!*
-hits you almost square in the chest, and sends you staggering backwards a step. There wasn't enough energy in the strike for it to do anything so dramatic as blow you off your feet or knock you out for a couple of seconds - much less stop your heart or sear you to a crisp like a full-sized thunderbolt might have - but you definitely felt it, and when you look down, there's a little burn mark on your shirt where it landed.
It's the size of a fingerprint, but it's there.
"...but, I was invincible?" you exclaim in confusion.
"That's only for the Super Spin Attack, dummy," Briar reminds you, as she flutters over to inspect the injury.
...
...right. And here you are, still working on the basic version.
Gained Lightning Resistance F (Plus)
Shrugging off your embarrassment and the tingle in your torso, you look across the arena, and promptly wince.
For all that you just took a "direct hit," Emiko is decidedly the worse off of the two of you after that exchange. She's fallen to her hands and knees and is panting heavily - and you use that word completely unironically, because her human guise has fallen away, leaving behind the classical figure of a bipedal fox.
Her fur is the same shade of brown as her hair. You'd suspected that would be the case, given the resemblance between forms displayed by Elder Mitsuki and Lady Takara, but this is the first time you're seeing Emiko this way, and the confirmation is kind of nice.
"You alright over there, Emiko?"
She groans.
Any and all thoughts of claiming victory or calling the match a draw are driven from your mind by concern for your friend.
"Are you alright, Emiko?" you ask.
"M'fine," she huffs, in a less-than-convincing tone that isn't quite high enough to be a whine. "Just need a second... to catch my breath."
There is a pause as you give her that second, and then a couple more for good measure.
"...okay, maybe more like... a minute..."
At that, you can't help a small chuckle. "Kind of overdid it with that combo, huh?"
Her ears droop. "...yeah." And then they perk right back up, and are joined in that by her tail. "But it worked! I had you cornered, and I hit you!"
So much for needing to catch her breath.
"Only because he tried to take the attack head-on, instead of sensibly running for it," Briar interjects.
"...point," Emiko concedes, tapping her fuzzy chin thoughtfully with one paw. "Maybe I should try setting up a binding spell first, and then break out the Storm...?"
"You definitely want to look into shortening the name of the attack," you comment. "Or at least how much of it you say out loud."
"But it's a really cool name!" Emiko whines, and this time, yes, it really is a whine.
"Oh, definitely," you agree. "And you set it up right and everything. But saying the whole name before you unleashed the attack gave me a couple of seconds' warning, which was all the time I needed to come up with a counter. Even if the move I chose didn't entirely work, I'm still good to fight, whereas you..."
You pause here, hesitating to mention the collapse of Emiko's human transformation, which you honestly aren't sure she's even realized has happened. In your readings of Tobin's Spirit Guide and other sources, you saw mention that - perhaps as a consequence of their great skill at illusions and deception in general, and the pride they take in those abilities - a kitsune who accidentally reveals their natural form to a human will be so ashamed, they'll immediately abandon whatever they've been doing and disappear, never to be seen again.
It's open to question just how much of that is mythic exaggeration and how much is historical fact, but there's probably a grain of truth in it. If nothing else, you've picked up enough about modern monster culture by this point to be aware that they consider revealing their true forms in public to be a no-no, special exceptions like Halloween aside. And given how easily Emiko gets flustered...
Suffice it to say, you have reservations about bringing this matter to her attention.
That being said, you definitely couldn't continue to call yourself Emiko's friend if you let her walk out of the Ring like this. The teasing from her sisters alone would undoubtedly be endless.
But how to break it to her without, well, breaking her?
From a purely human perspective, this situation isn't like those scenes that sometimes appear on television, where some unfortunate woman's outfit and day are ruined by a sudden shift in the weather, an inconsiderate driver, or some other bit of screenwriting, and a well-meaning individual offers her their coat to cover up the worst of the damage.
After all, it can be argued - with a fair degree of truth - that Emiko is actually warmer and better-covered this way than she was just a minute ago. Fur is useful like that.
When you take the kitsune perspective into account, though, there are definite similarities. It may be a different kind of exposure, but it would be no less embarrassing.
Hence your impulse to hand Emiko a coat or something similar, even though you aren't wearing one. You have a few articles of clothing stuffed into your dimensional pocket that would fit the bill, but the one that you decide to take out for this is the green cloak from your Dr. Doom costume. It's simply the easiest to detach from the rest of its respective "outfit," and then spread out over Emiko's form.
The fox-girl catches the cloak and absently gathers it about her shoulders as she blinks at you. "Alex, what-?"
"You REALLY overdid it with that last attack, Emiko," you say, hoping that the emphasis on the second word and the fact that you're looking away from her right now will clue her in.
"Yes, I-"
"In more ways than one."
There is a brief pause. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Emiko raise one paw towards her furry face.
"Wha-!? Buh- but I didn't- how is- waa waa waa! Don't look at me! Don't look!"
A frantic flurry of movement ensues, as Emiko yanks the cowl of your costume cloak over her head, closes the length of the cape about her body, and curls up beneath it in a veritable ball of fur and humiliation.
This is not how those scenes of gentlemanly assistance played out on the small screen. You suppose it just goes to show that you can't use what you see on television as an indicator of what real life is like.
"Um, Emiko?"
"Dooon't looook at meeee!" she wails.
"I can't see anything but the cloak," you quickly assure her. "I just... are you going to be okay?"
There is a whimper.
It's not an encouraging reply.
You're kind of at a loss for how to handle this. Should you try to encourage Emiko in some way? And if so, how? You don't think trying to compliment her appearance in her natural form is going to work, because the fact that you saw her that way when she didn't intend you to is the whole reason she's embarrassed. Should you instead promise not to tell anybody what happened, or would urging her to resume her humanoid form before somebody else comes along be more productive? Or is one of those cases where the best course of action is to take no action at all?
It's a rather awkward situation you've managed to step into, but you refuse to leave a friend to wallow in humiliation and despair, and you are determined to make that clear to Emiko.
Hopefully without making things any worse for her.
Clearing your throat, you say, "If it makes you feel any better-"
"It doesn't!"
Seeing as how she didn't wait to hear what you were going to say before rejecting it, you continue as if Emiko hadn't interrupted you.
"-Briar and I could promise not to tell anyone about this-"
"We cou-?" Briar starts to asks, before she catches herself. "I mean, we could! We could totally do that!"
"-and we can all pretend it never happened," you conclude.
Underneath your borrowed cloak, the quivering pauses. There is a shifting of fabric, and you glimpse a single eye in the depths, wet with unshed tears and glimmering with faint hope as it stares at you.
"Do you promise?" Emiko says weakly.
You hold up your right hand and, since you are making a vow to a kitsune - and moreover, are planning to hide something from a bunch of other kitsune - declare, "If anyone asks about our match, I promise to tell them only that we sparred, and we had to end the match after you overdid it with a finishing combo." You pause, and lower your hand. "If that's okay?"
"...thank you," comes the mumble from underneath the cloak.
You nod, and then turn your attention to your partner, silently and yet expectantly.
"Wha-? Oh! Right, right." Briar raises her hand-
"Wrong hand, Briar," you correct her quietly.
"I am a Hyrulean fairy. Your Earthly cultural biases mean nothing to me."
Emiko thanks her as well, sighs, and then stands up and pulls off the cloak.
She's already back in her human disguise - her FULL human disguise, ears and tail nowhere to be seen - sporting a bright, somewhat fake smile as she folds up the borrowed garment.
"Well, that was a good match, and I clearly need more practice before I use that move again. And Alex? You should be more careful with your belongings; you don't want them to get dirty."
With that, she hands Doom's cloak back to you.
"...right," you say, as you accept the item and tuck it back into your pocket.
Evidently, Emiko has decided to take the idea that "it never happened" for all that it's worth.
"And speaking of dirt," Emiko continues, frowning down at the dust on her outfit, "I should go and get cleaned up before Mom sees this and gives me an earful." She looks up. "See you at breakfast, later?"
"Maybe, maybe not," you reply with a frown. "I've got another round of party host things to take care of in a bit - more ghost summoning."
"...more ancient kind-of Romans?"
"Yeah. It'll take over an hour to sort everything out, so..." You trail off with a shrug. "On the bright side, I'll have a good appetite worked up when I finally get around to eating."
"Ah. Oh, well. I'll see you later, then, Alex." Emiko turns to leave, hesitates, and shoots you a glance over her shoulder. "And, um... thanks, again."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you reply flatly. Then you smile. "But you're welcome anyway."
Emiko smiles nervously and then takes off.
"How long do you think it'll be before her sisters figure out something's up?" Briar asks conversationally.
"Briar."
"Hey, take it from an expert; keeping an embarrassing secret from habitual tricksters is a big enough pain in the neck. Keeping it from HEREDITARY ones? When you're as high-strung as that girl? Good luck."
It can't be that bad, right?
...right?
It's not as if the answer is going to change your understanding of the universe or anything, so the tone of your inquiry is merely idle.
Briar responds in kind, shrugging. "They use whichever hand they favor. Most people in Hyrule ARE right-handed, and Princess Zelda is traditionally depicted that way, but the Hero's always portrayed as a lefty. That makes it kind of hard for anybody to say that one hand is inherently 'better' than the other."
You nod, completely unsurprised to hear that Link had some influence in this matter.
Gained Local Knowledge (Hyrule) D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
She didn't mention Ganondorf, and you see no need to bring him up.
You're already well aware that the Thief-King was either naturally ambidextrous, or had trained himself to be so with his weapons.
After Emiko leaves, you also exit the Ring of Trials and head up the beach, to the same location you've been using to summon your more paranormal guests since the party began.
Technically, you could have stayed and done this within the arena; it's the same beach, the same sand, and the lingering blessing of the Goddesses is unlikely to have hurt anything.
If you'd been planning to summon a few Hyruleans, you might have gone with that, but the Memorians are sworn to Mars and the other Roman gods. You'd gain no special benefit from summoning them on ground consecrated to the Golden Goddesses, and you might potentially annoy someone by doing so.
Besides, as you told Emiko, there are enough soldiers coming in this last group that - even calling them up in batches - you'll be at this for over an hour. Better to claim a patch of sand nobody's likely to want to use than to crowd the Ring, which some of your fight-happy guests might like to borrow for a bit.
Three by three, you summon the remaining Memorian soldiers, and have Briar show them to their quarters and comrades. Most of the ghosts make a point of thanking you for the gift of the fresh boar their brothers carted back yesterday, and several of those inquire if there will be another hunt planned for today.
As it happens, you hadn't planned for such.
By the time you've finished calling up the last of your Memorian guests, it's past eight o'clock. Even then, you're not quite finished, for with the "third shift" of his subordinates having arrived, it's time for Captain Marcus to lead his other men back to base to resume their watch.
They depart in military style, forming ranks behind the blessed banner they won in the Trials, which draws the staring, speechless awe of their recently-arrived fellows. Marcus and Cato go through the motions of formally thanking you for inviting them to your birthday celebration and giving them the opportunity to prove their valor in the eyes of the gods one more time.
"We shall see you again when the weather breaks," Marcus concludes, alluding to the winter conditions around their Earth-side base.
"Until then, Captain," you reply, releasing what hold your magic has on them.
"COMPANY!" one of the junior officers, or perhaps sergeants, booms. "SALUTE!"
They do so.
You return the gesture.
With that, the second group of Memorians march off, fading away into the morning light.
The silence that lingers in the wake of their departure is broken by one of the recent arrivals murmuring, "Do you think we can earn a banner?"
One of his comrades shoots him a startled glance. "What, you think we can do better than the Captain?"
"Well, no, but I was always able to take Fabius four falls out of five..."
"That's not what Fabius says..."
With that business attended to, you turn your attention to breakfast. After almost three hours of wakefulness, including a brief but intense spar and an hour of back-to-back Summoning rituals, the beast in your belly is in need of appeasement. The only question is whether to return to the Mansion where your family is staying to grab a bite, or to head up the beach to the communal dining area, and see what Shaman Chef Keoni has prepared this morning.
Today is the last day of your birthday celebration, and the plan was more or less to allow your guests this time to wind down from yesterday's big events and enjoy Bali Ha'i's natural beauty and seclusion, before seeing them on their way home.
As such, your initial inclination to the newly-arrived Memorians' inquiry about going hunting is to say no.
But then you stop and think about things from their perspective. These are the guys who drew the short straw on the duty assignments, and missed out on the better portion of the party, be it the first day's welcoming banquet and gift-giving, or the busy second day's Great Island Boar Hunt, Great Island Triathlon, and of course, the many battles in the Ring of the Trials.
Besides, you DID allow the first group to hang around for the Hunt. It would only be fair to give the new arrivals a chance to try their luck in the same manner.
That having been said, those aren't your pigs to give away.
After catching up with the entire batch of soldiers at their quarters, you let them know that you're taking their request for a hunt into consideration, but that the final decision lies with Kahine.
"Local deity?" one of the newcomers guesses.
"Local volcano," you clarify.
"Ah." He looks around at his companions. "You heard him, lads. What the volcano says, goes."
There is a round of affirmatives, punctuated by the odd, "No kidding!"
After thinking on it, you decide that you're in the mood for a quiet, family-oriented breakfast this morning - or at least as much of one as you can get.
You head back to your Mansion, where you find your father and Zelda lingering over their meals in the dining area room. Moblin is sitting on the floor nearby, looking satisfied in the way that only a dog who's recently been given tasty tidbits from the table can.
"Hey, Alex," your sister greets you.
"Hey, Zelda. Dad, Moblin," you add, before looking around. "Everybody else already eaten?"
Your father makes an affirmative sound around a mouthful of what appears to be toast with jam. Swallowing, he adds, "Cordelia went to have breakfast with Amy and some of the other girls, and your teacher was just finishing up when your sister and I got here. He said something about you wanting to talk with him?"
You nod as you head over to the buffet and take a plate. "Yeah, there were a couple of things that came up when he was in the Ring yesterday that I was hoping to talk about."
"Hm. Well, he said you could find him over by the lagoon, near where the river empties into it."
You make a mental note of that for later. "And Mom?"
"Your mother's having a lie-in this morning; she has an agreement with Zelda not to get up until after she's had a breakfast in bed."
"Mm!" Zelda agrees with a serious look.
...well, then. Four of five for the family breakfast isn't too bad.
You filling your plate with the most tempting selections among the conjured foodstuffs, take a glass of tropical fruit juice just because, and then join your father and sister at the table.
Is there anything you want to talk about with either of them or Briar about over the morning meal?
As it happens, there are a couple of things you'd like to discuss with your father.
"So, Dad," you begin casually, as you cut into a pile of pancakes slathered with creamy butter and rich golden-brown syrup.
"So, Alex," he returns in the same tone, as he reaches for a breakfast pastry.
"Did you already talk to the Hakubas about getting Mom the sort of cleansing you did for the Halloween party?"
Halfway to biting down on what looks like strawberry, raspberry, blueberry, and cream, you father pauses.
"...was I supposed to?" he asks.
Mouth full of sweet, fluffy goodness, you make a negative sound and shake your head for emphasis.
Swallowing hastily, you explain, "I've been meaning to do that myself pretty much since I started planning this party. Well, actually," you correct yourself, "I've had the idea on and off since Halloween, but things kept coming up-"
Your meeting with Celty and receipt of Hecate's little gift kind of overwhelmed your other concerns at the time, and then you got caught up in planning and preparing for the Christmas Plush Invasion.
"-which meant this would be the first time they'd meet in person. And it seemed like a better idea to give them a couple of days to mingle and get to know each other a bit, before springing the matter on them."
Your father doesn't quite frown. "I seem to remember sitting down and having the priests chant at me within the first hour of meeting them."
"Yeah, but that was the Hakubas doing their job, and the whole thing was arranged by the Shuzens ahead of time, besides. They're basically here on vacation."
That gets a nod of understanding.
"Anyway," you continue, "I mostly asked to make sure I wouldn't be bugging them about something that was already handled."
With that matter tabled until you can get a chance to speak with the Hakubas, you decide to give your Dad a break from the "heavy topics" for a bit, and also to pay Zelda some attention, so that she doesn't feel left out of the family breakfast conversation.
"How have you been getting along with the other kids, Zelda? Have any of them been nice?"
Your big brother instincts are concerned about this, as Zelda is the youngest person attending your birthday. The next-closest to her in age are either the Kurosaki twins or Emiko's little sisters; you're not quite sure when the girls in question celebrate their birthdays, but Karin and Yuzu look about a year older than your sister, Mio and Miu are kitsune, and they're all Japanese, where Zelda isn't.
There's plenty of room in there for issues to have arisen.
Fortunately, aside from a complaint that it's not fair how the two sets of twins get to have sisters their own age, or that they can do "that funny talking without words thing with each other," Zelda has only good things to say about her interactions with the slightly older girls.
"Yuzu's really, really nice, and Karin can beat boys at wrestling, and Mio and Miu are really, really fluffy!"
She's less positive in her assessment of Kokoa.
"She's kind of bossy. And why does she get to have a fairy!?"
And then there's Higurashi Souta.
"He said he wasn't going to play with a bunch of girls." Frowning, Zelda adds, "And he said it in a mean way, so Karin kicked him."
While you certainly don't approve of someone being mean to your little sister, you find that you can't help but empathize with Souta. He's one of the younger kids you invited to your party, and he's the only boy in that age group; as with the Kurosaki and Hayashi twins, you aren't clear on exactly when Souta's birthday is, but he's definitely several years younger than the rest of the boys, which honestly makes him too young to hang out with them as a peer.
Combine that with his having told off the girls that are closest to his age, and - unless he found some fairies that he unexpectedly gets along with - it's looking likely that Souta's been stuck spending whatever time he isn't with one or more members of his family by himself.
That's got to sting just a bit.
Not much you can do about it now, though... or is there?
You mentally set aside the issue of a lonely boy and focus on Zelda, who's continued to chatter on, now that she knows she has your attention. As you work through your breakfast, making encouraging noises and voicing the occasional question to keep her going, your sister spins a tale of the exciting things she and the other littlest sisters have been getting up to together.
Considering that the Hayashis are kitsune, mention of pranks is surprisingly sparse - not absent, mind you, but not as abundant as they could have been. Mio and Miu seem to have been mostly content with the old identical twin jokes, such as answering to different names at different times, finishing each other's sentences, and speaking in unison.
As physically and mentally dissimilar as they are from each other, Karin and Yuzu sound like they don't have any experience with that sort of thing. In fact, if Zelda's account is accurate, the Kurosaki girls were surprisingly easy for Mio and Miu to confuse and disorient.
Maybe that's why they stuck to the one routine?
Zelda also has plenty to say about the fairies, and she even slips in a few positive comments about Kokoa's participation in some of their activities - grudging as it seems to have been.
Aside from being a little bossy, Kokoa seems to have an urge to show off - which is not always a bad thing. It certainly turned out to be advantageous for the girls, when some of Briar's siblings tried to play a prank on them involving tiny sticky bombs they got from Farore only knows where.
Little fairies can be surprisingly industrious.
The little fairies made their preparations and approach quietly enough that the Hayashi girls didn't notice, and might have escaped Kokoa's attention until it was too late, had she not been exercising her new familiar bond with Thistle. The combination of vampiric senses, one fairy's awareness of others of her kind, and plain old sibling instincts alerted the partnered pair to the incoming threat, and Kokoa quietly warned the other girls what was up.
You would have expected Mio and Miu to counter-prank the fairies, or for Kokoa and Karin to take more direct and physical action to chase them off, but that's not what happened.
Instead, Yuzu ran to the edge of the lagoon, scooped up a double-handful of water, and flung it in the direction the fairies were coming from.
What constitutes a playful splash for a five year-old girl is more like a sudden deluge for a tiny fairy, and the pranksters were effectively knocked out of the sky, along with the bulging bags of sap they'd harvested.
Bags which, at the moment of impact, exploded all over them.
There were some VERY unhappy little fairies after that.
Briar takes all this in and starts laughing, then asks Zelda if she got any names.
While the two of them go off on that particular tangent, you turn back to your father and quietly pose the other question that came to mind when you sat down.
"Tell me, Dad: now the shock has worn off, what did you think of the Ring of Trials?"
"Who says the shock has worn off?" your father replies wryly. "I could still be in the depths of grappling with parental dread, you know."
"...are you?"
Your father considers that. "On a scale of concern rated from one to ten, with one being 'I'm cool with this' and ten being 'oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die'? I'd say I'm about a five. I mean, you showed us the tapes of that tournament last year, and told us about what we didn't see, and fighting monsters in a magic arena is really just an extension of all that. But that said" - and here, he gives you a more direct look - "it WAS just last year. Hell of an escalation rate there, kiddo."
With the party being scheduled to end this afternoon, there's not a great deal that can realistically be done about Souta's lack of peer companionship. Even so, you make a mental note to check up on the younger boy a little later and see how he's been taking it.
Even taking into account your responsibility as a host to see to your guests' needs, you don't feel that it's necessary to apologize for how things worked out; when all is said and done, it was as much his family's decision to attend as a group that put Souta in this situation, no actual harm occurred, and he got to spend the weekend on a tropical island besides. But it would not be remiss to assure him that you'll think ahead next time - assuming, of course, that circumstances align for him to attend the next party you throw, whatever and whenever that happens to be.
They may not. Now that Kagome's mother and grandfather have met your parents and have an idea of the sort of thing you get up to at parties, they may decide that future celebrations don't require both of them to attend as chaperones. Or they could just send Kagome by herself.
...technically, you suppose it's also possible that they could forbid her from attending, but that doesn't seem particularly likely at this point. If either of them were going to complain about your choice of party activities, it would have been during or after the Trials.
"Yeah, I kind of figured as much," your father admits. "What with yesterday's talk about gods and chosen ones and all. I'm not going to lie to you, Alex; I'm still trying to wrap my head around that, and probably will be for a while. I'm really not used to the idea of divine intervention, even if I did know crosses could ward off vampires... which, in hindsight, is something that brings up a whole OTHER bunch of uncomfortable questions," he adds, shaking his head.
You can guess what those questions might be. Your immediate and extended family aren't what you'd call religious, but Sunnydale has literally dozens of churches within its environs, most of them with services - especially funerals - running daily, so there can't help but be a certain amount of influence there - particularly in light of the infestation of corpse-demons. Like your Dad said, everybody knows that crosses ward off vampires, but how many of them stop to consider why that is, much less try to reconcile the message of the Church with the all-too verifiable existence of Sunnydale's dark side? How can you believe in an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God when there are man-eaters and worse things walking the streets after dark? Can you afford NOT to? And where, exactly, do a trio of glowing gold goddesses from another world fit in?
These are the sort of questions that help a man find his faith, or lose it.
...you wonder if you should mention that angel, Karael, you interacted with through a scrying spell and a pair of summoned proxies a while back.
Putting religious issues aside for the time being, you ask your father how he well thinks your mother is currently dealing with yesterday's events and the associated revelations.
He considers it, waggling his left hand back and forth a bit as he answers, "Probably a six, maybe a low seven - though if you'd asked me yesterday, while we were watching you fight, I would have said more like an eight. She spent some time talking with Catherine Madison and Lily Blaisdell yesterday afternoon; it seems to have helped her calm down a bit."
Another point in favor of having opened up to Mrs. Madison, then, and further confirmation that Larry has a really cool grandmother.
"If I were you, though," your father adds, "I'd give her a few more days before bringing the whole business up again."
"I'll do my best," you tell your father.
You cannot promise anything more than that; your father clearly recognizes this, but doesn't push you for a more solid assurance.
The conversation after that is largely trivial, except of course where Zelda is involved.
"Would this be a bad time to mention that I kind of met an angel, once?" you venture.
Your father blinks twice, slowly. "...when was this, WHY was this, and how do you 'kind of' meet an angel?"
"It was after that solar eclipse last summer," you explain. "Miss Akasha and the two younger Hakuba priests were involved in a battle in Europe that day, and they'd been out of touch with home for several days after the fact. When I heard about it, I looked for them using a spell that works a bit like the viewing globe from the Ring, letting you observe an area far away from your actual location - though it also allows for two-way communication. Anyway, my spell basically tracked Miss Akasha and the Hakubas to a church they'd taken refuge in. The place had its own guardian angel, who noticed my spell, and let me look inside after I explained what I was doing."
"...huh," your father responds. "And this angel, he didn't... try to smite you, or anything? That whole 'suffer not the witch to live' business, and all?"
"No, he just asked me to keep my voice down, since it was the middle of the night where he was, and the Hakubas and most of their other companions were asleep."
Again, there comes the "Huh" of enlightenment. It's followed by a thoughtful pause.
Is there anything else you want to say on this topic?
Although you do want to talk with Lu-sensei sooner rather than later, you find that you cannot pass up the opportunity that has presented itself.
Once you and your sister have finished eating, you put your heads together and start picking out what your mother will be having for breakfast today.
"We need to get her a glass of milk, and a glass of red juice, and a bowl of fruit, and pancakes and bacon and toast..."
"That's probably enough for your mother, Zelda," your father interjects.
Your sister takes the advice, but insists on "frosting" the pancakes with the soft, creamy butter and thick syrup, and then "decorating" them with sliced-up pieces of fruit - you handle the knife for that part, while she takes care of the placement. She also spreads generous amounts of jam over the toast. By the end of all this, Zelda has gotten more than a little sweet stuff on her hands and shirt, and then on her face, when she licks her fingers clean.
There's a brief delay after that to clean up.
Once that's done, you pick up the crowded tray and follow Zelda's lead down the hall to your parents' room in the Mansion. Your sister marches in like a conquering general and calls for your mom to wake up.
Your mother was pretty obviously faking being asleep the entire time, but she plays along with Zelda's request, mumbling about not wanting to get up and sending Zelda into a pseudo-parental mode as she encourages, then chides, and finally physically-rousts the older woman from her "rest."
Once that's out of the way, your mother sits up in bed, and you provide the necessary lift as Zelda steers the breakfast tray to her waiting lap.
"And here's your breakfast!" Zelda proclaims. "I made it myself!"
There isn't a great deal more to be said about your "encounter" with Karael, unless you want to get into the angel's meeting and conversation with Thunderbird - which you don't, really - and so you decide to end this part of the conversation and move on to a different topic.
In the wake of Zelda's claim to culinary creativity, you turn to face her, deliberately making the motion obvious enough to catch her attention.
And when Zelda turns her head to see what you're doing, you hit her with your best impression of the Puppy Dog Pout: Extra-Large Edition.
Wide eyes, shimmering at the edges.
Pursed, quavering lips.
Head and shoulders slumped in depression, the gesture made especially striking thanks to just how much shoulder you have to put into it.
One hand pressed over your heart, as if to cradle a deep inner pain.
And just a hint of an inquisitive, wounded whimper in the back of your throat.
"Aaah!" Zelda exclaims, as she recoils from the force of the emotional blow. Then she finds her balance and comes rushing forward, caught between hugging you and patting you gently on the back - well, the side, anyway; she can't get her arms all the way around you. "Don't cry, Alex! Big boys aren't s'posed to cry, and it'll ruin Mom's breakfast, why are you crying, what did I doooo!?"
Hm. Not quite the reaction you were going for. Which isn't to say little sister hugs are a BAD thing...
On the bed, your mother restrains a laugh as she speaks. "I think your brother is... a little upset that you said you made me breakfast by yourself, Zelda."
"But I did!" Zelda protests, looking back over her shoulder at your mom, even as she keeps one arm half-wrapped about you. "I picked out all the food by myself an' everything!"
"I'm sure you did, Zelda," your mother assures her. "But where did the food come from in the first place?"
Your midsection registers a shrug from the small shoulder pressed against it. "I dunno, where does ANYTHING Alex makes out of magic come... oh."
And with that, the light dawns.
"Ummm... sorry, Alex."
"Apology accepted," you say, returning Zelda's hug.
You spend a few minutes more with your mother and sister, Zelda hopping up onto the bed to sit besides your Mom while she eats. Given your father's previous advice, you don't bring up any topics like the Trials or gods, instead trying to keep the conversation to safer topics, like what your favorite present was-
-whether or not your sister can borrow your new stuffed animals-
-and what it feels like to be nine years old.
"A lot like it felt to be eight, only not for as long. Yet."
On a related note, Zelda tends to take control of a conversation if nobody stops her.
After a bit, you excuse yourself and go looking for Lu-sensei.
You experience a brief, mischievous impulse to pick Zelda up and spin her around, but the playful urge falters and fails in the face of a little sister's apologetic embrace.
You ponder the pile of presents you received this year, mentally sorting through the selection to try and determine your most favorite gift. And while your station as a Big Brother makes you WANT to say that Zelda's gifts were the best, honesty compels you to admit that there were superior ones, at least in terms of practicality and significance.
In the end, you say, "Vampyr 2000."
"...eh?"
Even without the confused exclamation, the look on Zelda's face at your choice would tell you that she doesn't understand why you picked that one.
So you try to explain.
"All my presents had care and thought put into them, but the Stand- I mean, the flag the ghosts gave me and the magic crystal I got from Beryl were definitely the most significant ones: the flag because it was basically the ghosts' way of 'adopting' me; and the crystal because of the amount of work Beryl would have had to put into making it."
That's not even mentioning the practical uses for both items, although you're not going to do that. It'd make your mother uncomfortable, and Zelda doesn't need the additional fuel to fire her imagination about having a big brother who fights evil monsters.
The Ring of Trials already gave her plenty of material to work with on that front.
"The book, though? That can show me how to be safer in Sunnydale, and more than that, it's something I can share equally with all my family and friends, so that they'll be safer, too."
Knowledge shared doesn't mystically become less powerful, after all, and you're certain that much of the information contained within the pages of Vampyr won't require any sort of mystical power to make use of, which means everybody you know can benefit from learning it.
As for those entries that DO require magical or spiritual power... well, you'll have to read the book and see what those are and do, before you make any decisions on that front.
You have no problem with letting Zelda play with your new stuffed animals, as long as she's careful not to damage or needlessly dirty them.
True, it'd be the work of a spell or two to clean and repair most damage, but depending on where Zelda was playing at the time, how serious the damage was, and who witnessed it happening, you might conceivably have some issues with a perfectly clean and/or intact stuffed boar or the like turning up afterwards. Best to nip that sort of thing in the bud.
Besides, respect for other people's possessions is in no way a bad habit to encourage your sister to develop.
Especially not when they're YOUR possessions.
It would be rude of you not to show up to a meeting that you requested, so after letting your Dad know where you're going and giving Moblin a scratch behind the ears, you exit the Mansion and make your way up the beach towards the lagoon, where Lu-sensei is supposed to be hanging out waiting for you.
You pass several of your guests along the way, coming or going from their rooms and the main dining area, but you keep the encounters short and to the point, losing only a couple of minutes at most.
When you reach the sparkling blue waters of Bali Ha'i's lagoon, you find your martial arts sensei on one of the rocks out among the surf, seated in a classic meditative position. He has his back to you, and an air of serenity surrounds him, but you know without having to ask that he's waiting for you to join him.
A quick inspection shows a trail of stones leading out to the larger rock where your teacher sits. You could walk out there as-is, although the fact that the stones are uneven, spread out, and slick with sea-spray besides means that using the Ki Step technique to improve your footing would not be inappropriate, unless you're feeling confident in your footwork this morning. Or you could just remove your shoes and socks, roll up your pant-legs, and wade out; the water doesn't seem like it'd come up past your knees, and you can easily endure wet pants for a while. It might be a little cool at this hour, but you think you can handle it.
You decide to stick to the rocks for this, and to make use of your Ki Step technique to steady yourself. There is a brief moment where you consider taking off your shoes and socks and rolling up your pants, in case you slip and fall in anyway, but based on your past uses of the skill, that doesn't seem terribly likely to occur.
Besides, the rocks are rough enough that you'd rather not subject your bare feet to them if you can help it.
Letting your ki cycle through and around your feet and then pushing it through your shoes, you make your way across the stones at a slow walk, picking out likely spots to stand on ahead of time. Only once do you truly stop, when the incoming tide temporarily swallows a low-laying rock just ahead of you with a bubbling of foam.
Aside from that pause, you make the short trip without delay or incident.
Gained Ki Step C (Plus) (Plus)
"Good morning, Alex," Lu Tze greets you, not turning around as you stride onto the last and largest rock in the 'path.' "Did you sleep well?"
"I did, Sensei." Idly, you wonder if it was your use of ki that gave you away, the scrape of your shoes on the stones, or something else. "And yourself?"
"Well enough, though I have to admit, sleeping in extra-dimensional chambers is something I'm probably never going to get used to, at least not at my age."
"What do you mean, sir?" you inquire.
"The ambient ki inside them doesn't flow the way I'm used to," your master explains, "especially not after the outer door has been closed and we're cut off from the rest of the world. It's nothing hazardous or physically uncomfortable, just... disquieting. Kind of like trying to get used to sleeping in a normal residential neighborhood, after years of living in a downtown apartment that had traffic going by at all hours."
You've never done that, but you can sort of see what Lu-sensei is getting at. While you hadn't missed the difference in ambient ki within the Mansions, you also hadn't given it much thought; surrounded as you were by the manifestation of your own power, you almost couldn't help but find the rooms comfortable.
It would seem, however, that not everyone had the same reaction.
You make a note of that for future reference.
Gained Knowledge (Ki) D
"But enough of an old man's complaining," your teacher says. "You're the one who wanted to meet, so pull up a stone" - he slaps one hand down on the dry surface of the rock - "and let's talk about whatever it is that troubles you."
As it happens, there's enough dry space atop Lu-sensei's little coastal perch that you could probably get four people up here, provided the other two were no bigger than you and didn't mind a little crowding, or hanging their legs over the side into the water. Since it's just you and your master, you have no problem picking out a good spot at a respectful distance.
Briar just takes her usual place on your shoulder.
You pause for a moment, wondering which topic would be better to start with: the ki technique you saw Lu-sensei use to slow his descent into Bongo-Bongo's chamber; or why his Shadow felt that it was worth mentioning looking in on his (their?) niece.
Although addressing the matter of your master's grand-niece is undoubtedly the more important and potentially time-sensitive of the topics you wish to discuss, it's also a very personal matter for Lu-sensei. It's entirely possible that he may not wish to talk about it, and that bringing it up - let alone actually talking about it - may put him in a mood that isn't really conducive to teaching.
So you hold off on asking for the moment, mentioning that there are "a couple of things" you're curious about, and then bringing up the ki technique your teacher demonstrated in the Ring yesterday.
As it turns out, there were actually two techniques at work, both of which are forms of Ki Infusion. The first skill, the one that Lu-sensei used to not-quite-climb and not-quite-fall down the stone shaft, is a variation of the Ki Step technique that's said to have been inspired by observation of various species of climbing lizards, insects, and arachnids. The basic form of the skill isn't strong enough to allow a human-sized body to climb along a vertical surface like those far smaller creatures do - you're simply too big and heavy for that to work - but it does provide you with enough of a "grip" to turn an uncontrolled fall into something slower and more easily directed.
The modifications required to turn the Ki Step technique into this new skill aren't that complicated, and you could practice the basic form simply by jumping at any convenient vertical surface and trying to "hold on." That said, you'll want to be careful; the main reason Lu-sensei hasn't tried to teach you this move before now is that the shock of suddenly supporting the weight of your entire body this way can stress bones and tendons that aren't used to it, especially when you're moving at speed in the seconds before you latch on to the wall, or if circumstances require you to use only your hands - or even just the one hand. That sort of thing can lead to developmental issues for someone your age.
Using Ki Enhancement to reinforce the hands can ameliorate that risk, but it isn't an ideal solution, because it gets you in the habit of relying on that extra strength and durability whenever you use the Slow Fall technique - and then what happens when you go over a cliff without Ki Enhancement already running, and with only enough time to use one ki technique before you hit the ground?
There's also the fact that in order to truly master Slow Falling, you have to be able to use it despite any fear of heights you may possess. As your master tells you, the traditional method of testing THAT aspect of the ability is finding a really high wall or cliff and throwing the student over the edge - and then doing it AGAIN, as often as required to either confirm that they won't freeze at the critical moment, or to drum the habit out of them.
Obviously, this is something Lu-sensei can't do anywhere in Sunnydale without getting both of you in all kinds of trouble.
And no, he doesn't count the fact that you once flew into the heart of a thunderstorm as proof that you've mastered that instinctive fear of falling. You were using magic, and you were so high up that even if your Spell of Flight suddenly gave out, you could have cast another spell to save yourself before you hit the ground.
A part of you grumbles at this, but you acknowledge that when it comes to training martial arts techniques, what the master says, goes.
Gained Ki Infusion C
Gained Slow Fall F (Plus)
As for the SECOND technique that Lu-sensei used in his descent - the one that let him keep falling slower than normal after he dropped out of the bottom of the stone shaft and no longer had a convenient surface in arm's reach to use as a brake - that was simply Ki Stepping advanced to the point of walking on air.
It'll be a while yet before you can attempt such a thing.
As the discussion of ki techniques winds down, Lu-sensei asks, "What was the other thing you wanted to talk about, Alex?"
"It's about something your Shadow said, sir."
He regards you keenly. "...you're curious about Yumiko."
You nod. "It may not be any of my business, sir, but..."
"...if it's needed, my previous offer of assistance still stands."
Lu-sensei considers your words and the intent behind them in momentary silence.
Then, he murmurs, "I may have to take you up on that - at least for a means to visit more often."
"Oh?"
Your teacher explains that, after your discovery of Yumiko's latent abilities, the strength thereof, and the potential danger she had been and would continue to be in until she was properly trained, he's been making a point of trying to reconnect with his niece and her family. He can't simply spring the supernatural revelation on them and expect it to go well after he's been absent from their lives for a decade; he has to rebuild that relationship, earn a measure of trust and forbearance, and then try to ease them into it as painlessly as possible.
The good news is, it hasn't been going terribly. Through letters and the rare phonecall, the old man managed to arrange a visit during the Christmas season, which let him get a better feel for where he stands with Yumi and her husband - who you didn't see on your one and only visit - and how the family would react to the idea of Yumiko getting training, both as a whole and as individuals. It also gave him the chance to personally check up on a few of the people he knows in Japan, specifically the ones he said owed him a favor and would be willing, able, and trustworthy to train his grand-niece as a means of discharging their debt(s).
There were hopeful indications on both fronts. Yumiko was rather taken with the idea of having a "kung fu uncle" - as was her brother - Lu-sensei managed to set up some New Year's postcards and gift money with the local post office-
"More of a feat than it sounds," the old man notes in passing. "Japanese post offices get VERY busy at that time of year."
-and perhaps most importantly, Yumi ended the visit in a better mood towards her uncle than she began it.
As a bonus, most of the other people Lu Tze checked up on were still alive, and still capable of acting as teachers to a high-spirited teenage girl. Whether they were entirely willing or not is another matter, but your teacher didn't press too hard on that front; there's still too much work that needs to be done with his niece's family before he introduces them to the Moonlit World, or even just the realm of martial arts.
For all of that success, there are still issues, mostly arising from the fact that Lu-sensei lives on a completely different continent than his kin. Thanks to his modest lifestyle, preexisting savings, and the (relatively) recent contribution of a share of that treasure you pulled out of the demons' nest on the beach, he has the means to afford traveling to and from Tokyo for a few years - more or less, depending on how often he visits - but he is forced to admit that if he's going to broach the idea of serious training with Yumiko before she's twenty, he'll have to visit more often than his finances can really accommodate, at least in the long run.
How fortunate, then, that Lu Tze has a dutiful young student with the ability to warp space-time, and few if any compunctions about doing so to help out or even just impress the people he knows, yes?
Not that the old man puts it that way, of course, but he doesn't have to. The evidence scattered all over Bali Ha'i - visiting guests, Mansions, and summoned entities alike - makes the point for him.
In any case, you have no real issue with adding Lu-sensei to your periodic visits to Japan. The only question is, will providing that level of assistance be enough to satisfy you?
You tell Lu-sensei that you will gladly see to the necessary travel arrangements for him, but that doesn't feel like you'd be doing enough to help. As such, you also feel him out on the subject of Hyrulean tutors, reminding him of the advantages of Hyrulean internal sorcery compared to the various patron-backed systems, and also noting that the kingdom's magical traditions include methods of blending spiritual and sorcerous power in a way that styles you've seen on Earth just don't.
With her natural potential for the vital, magical, and spiritual arts, Yumiko is almost ideally suited to become a student of the Hyrulean mystical arts.
"Slow down, Alex," Lu-sensei says dryly. "At least give me a chance to get through with telling the girl that magic and monsters are real, before you start having the Postman drop off recruitment letters or arranging interviews with recruiters from beyond the veil."
...okay, maybe you came on a little strong there.
But if your teacher needs a way to prove that magic and spiritual power are real, he knows where you live.
"I will keep you in mind, yes."
Moving away from that subject just a bit, you ask your master if he's investigated the Heart of Wen, and if he hasn't, whether he'd like to test it out now.
"To former, no," he replies. "I have spent several hours in meditation since acquiring the Heart, feeling out its energies and how they impact my own - which is surprisingly little, considering that I'm carrying the thing around inside me-"
That does tally with your own observations, not to mention your personal experience with the Heart of Courage.
"-but I have not attempted to invoke its power. As to the latter question..." Lu Tze ponders that in silence for a moment, stroking his chin. Then he shrugs. "Eh, why not? Now is as good a time as any, and this island is a much nicer place to call an old master back into the world for a chat than anywhere in Sunnydale."
True enough.
Is there anything you want to do before Lu Tze summons Wen?
Also, when Grandmaster Wen appears before you, do you have any particular questions you'd like to ask? Or perhaps more appropriately, that you'd like to mention to your master beforehand and have HIM inquire about?
The offshore rock upon which you and your master are currently sitting is large enough to accommodate a third human-sized occupant without getting uncomfortably or disrespectfully crowded, so moving back to shore doesn't strike you as necessary. Likewise, you see no need to spend a few minutes and some of your depleted mana setting up the sort of sorcerous analysis array you've thrown together for past examinations of objects and entities that caught your attention.
You have a Heart Container with the power to summon things yourself, and your knowledge of Summoning Magic in general is pretty close to top-tier, if you do say so yourself. There really isn't much that a detailed observation of the workings of this particular Heart would show you that you don't already know.
That having been said, you are curious about what form the Founder of the School of Five Elements will take when he's called forth. It could be anything from an immaterial spirit to a magical construct driven by a copy of Wen's mind to a transcendant immortal form, similar to the celestials.
As such, you ready your Ki Sight, Mage Sight, and Spiritual Sight, to see what may be seen.
Your first impulse is to let Lu Tze handle this conversation as he likes, but you find that you can't quite let it go at that.
Your master is about to summon the man who established your entire school of martial arts, both the physical aspect at which Lu-sensei himself excels, and the spiritual philosophy at which he is... less proficient.
The physical side of the School of Five Elements has served you in good stead over the last few years - and not only you, but several of your friends and a considerable number of your more distant acquaintances in Sunnydale. And while your own spiritual condition is significantly improved from what it used to be, it's hardly perfect. That's not even going into the matter of your fellow students, who don't enjoy the numerous advantages your magical abilities and supernatural connections have allowed you to pile on.
As a martial artist, you have an obligation to spread the teachings of your founder to a wider audience.
As a resident of the Hellmouth, you cannot in good conscience pass up a chance to further reinforce your spiritual defenses, let alone those of your closest friends and a portion of the greater population besides.
And as the reincarnation of the King of Evil, you would be a great fool not to take a reasonable opportunity to strengthen this life's spiritual power, before the distant yet inevitable confrontation comes due.
You are not a great fool.
Not a great one, no.
With that thought in mind, you ask Lu-sensei if he'd mind sounding out Master Wen on the subject of teaching the spiritual aspect of his School to its living students.
"Believe me, Alex," your teacher says. "I have been thinking about that since yesterday."
Oh, good.
Tying into the matter of kung fu spiritual philosophy, you wonder if Master Wen would be interested in observing your assimilation of the Heart of Spirit. However, since you aren't going to be doing that today regardless of what happens, it's something that can wait for another time.
That leaves the question of whether or not Wen would care to attend the remainder of your party.
Lu Tze blinks at you when you float this idea to him.
"I'll... be sure to ask him that," he says slowly. Then he shakes his head and visibly gathers himself. "Now... how do you turn this thing on?"
You and your teacher briefly trade roles, as you explain how you personally access the Heart of Courage. It's a fairly intuitive process, and less than a minute later, magic surges forth from your master and forms a short-lived summoning circle over the remaining unoccupied space atop the stone.
The man who appears from that circle bears some very broad similarities to Lu Tze. His features are "generically Asian," his build is somewhere between "wiry" and "athletic," and he wears a plain but well-made robe that allows for freedom of movement. Both men are bald, both carry themselves with the effortless balance of master martial artists, and both have bright, well-honed ki that speaks wordlessly of their potential to unleash amazing levels of fist-in-face violence, cloaked within auras of perfect harmlessness.
But where Lu Tze lost the hair on his head to age, and gained wrinkles and a wispy grey beard in exchange, Wen's face is unlined and clean-shaven. He appears neither old nor truly young, a man perhaps the age of your father, but in greater health and so retaining more of the vigor of youth. Beyond the physical, you can see that he retains the three fundamental energies that make up ki, and moreover, has developed all three to a level that surpasses your teacher's own growth - particularly in the spiritual realm. They should be dazzling to your opened sight, yet Wen's energies flow in a quiet harmony that somehow fades into the surroundings, making the forces involved harder to detect, whether individually or collectively.
What is that? Spiritual Attunement? A higher stage of Environmental Adaptation? Some perk of martial enlightenment?
You don't know, and you can't tell.
Wearing a visage of mild surprise, the Founder and Grandmaster of the School of Five Elements looks around, taking in Lu Tze's presence, then yours, then Briar's, and finally that of Bali Ha'i beyond you.
And lo, he speaks: "Would it be an imposition if I joined you boys for breakfast? I only ask because I haven't had any real food to eat in what feels like a cosmic cycle, and I could seriously murder a curry."
If the Grandmaster wants a curry, by Din, you'll get him a curry.
The three of you vacate the rock and make your way back to the beach. As both the student of the School of Five Elements and the host of your own birthday party, you are effectively the designated errand-runner twice over, and hurry on ahead of Lu-sensei and Master Wen to check with Shaman Keoni and see if he could whip up a curry - or if he even knows what a curry is.
As it happens, he does know. Contact with the far-flung Water Tribes has its benefits, among them stories of exotic foods from distant lands, the occasional samples thereof, and even seeds and sprouts to grow and process as required.
However, while Keoni's preparations for the party did include harvesting some of the local herbs and spices - descendants of islanders' gardens long since grown wild - curry was not on your menu, and hence, he did not prepare for it. He could use a few simple spells to "cheat" on the missing flavors, but his pride as a chef makes him reluctant to take that step. Scaring up the missing ingredients should be possible, but it would not be fast.
While you're talking with the chef, Briar zips back to your Mansion to see if its magic can accommodate this request, which is somewhat out of line with the more traditionally Western breakfast your family and immediate neighbors favored.
The answer to that is a "Yes," and after checking with Master Wen as to whether he'd prefer to eat outside or indoors-
"It seems a terrible shame to miss out on such a fine morning."
-you grab a tray and some empty bowls, hurry down to your Mansion, and start loading up a selection of curry dishes that you're quite certain weren't part of the buffet when you and Zelda were picking out breakfast for your mother.
It's not that surprising, really. In its basic form, the Spell of the Magnificent Mansion is set up to produce enough food to serve a nine-course banquet for over a hundred and fifty people. You tweaked the spell's parameters so that it would instead provide three meals a day for less than a dozen people, with a buffet and drinks available at any time. Even if everyone staying in this Mansion had chosen to "eat in" for the duration of your birthday party - and you know quite well that they haven't - it still wouldn't account for even half of what the Mansion could provide.
"Still hungry?" your father asks wryly.
"No, I'm good," you answer. "Someone just expressed a desire for curry, and the chefs weren't expecting it."
"Curry? For breakfast?"
"It's what he asked for," you say with a shrug. You're hardly an expert on the subject, but you're fairly sure breakfast curry is a thing.
Just not in the Harris household.
That aside, you think you have enough curry now to sate Wen's appetite, or at least take the edge off. Grabbing a spare knife from the buffet, you nod to your father-
"Why couldn't he just eat in his own room?" he wonders as you depart.
-and make your way out through the portal.
As you exit the Mansion, you keep one magically-sensitive eye on the knife, to see how it reacts to being taken beyond the defined boundaries of the spell that created and sustained it. You know that the food conjured within a Magnificent Mansion is real enough to be perfectly safe to eat, and hence to go on existing outside the Mansion, but you also know that the servants created within the extradimensional space cannot pass outside of it; the limits of inedible conjured objects, like the knife, are a bit of a mystery, which is why you thought to bring bowls in from the outside.
The knife doesn't vanish in a puff of smoke when you cross the threshold; instead, your Mage Sight reveals the matrix that defines its existence wavering and starting to degrade. Where it could have lasted for days yet if left inside the Mansion, you'd estimate that the knife has less than an hour left before it exhausts the tiny fragments of mana it contains and ceases to exist. On top of that, the knife reads as less "real" to your senses than it did a moment ago, such that a good strong impact or a sudden surge of energy would probably break it.
Just as well you picked up some real bowls, then. Who knows how fast Wen eats?
The answer turns out to be: slowly enough to savor the flavor; and with several pauses to proclaim the glory of spicy food, and how terribly he'd missed it.
Lu-sensei appears content to wait and let his predecessor get this out of - or into - his system before proceeding with the conversation.
Off to one side, you notice Shaman Keoni casting dark, envious looks at the curry.
It was never your intention to sting Keoni's pride as a chef by providing someone a meal, when he himself lacked only the ingredients and time to do so.
As such, while Grandmaster Wen waxes poetic about his meal, you inch closer to the dour-faced shaman and quietly inquire about the possibility of adding curry to the lunch menu. It's still a few hours away, which should be time enough for Keoni to gather and process whatever herbs and spices he requires - assuming they yet grow on Bali Ha'i - and hence to reclaim his honor as a culinary artist.
In the wake of your words, the chef turns to regard you, an eerie light burning in his eyes.
"It can be done!" he declares in a voice of thunder. "And it shall! And if you think you've had a good curry now, sir," he adds, turning to Master Wen, "oh, just you wait! I know a recipe for a dish that will set fire to a man's SOUL!"
Oh? That sounds interesting...
"I look forward to it!" the transcendent martial artist assures the spectral chef.
Keoni nods, tells one of his fellow ghosts to "take over" for the remainder of breakfast, and then heads off in the direction of the lagoon at a fast walk.
"Hear me, O Spirits of Earth and Wood!" he calls out. "I would bring forth the green fire! Guide me to my quarry!"
And in response to the shaman's words, a spiritual presence gathers in the ground. It's not paying any attention to you, but your spiritual senses nonetheless pick up a sort of "tug" that leads in the same general direction Keoni was going, just further inland.
He adjusts his course accordingly, and shortly thereafter, is lost to view.
...well, then; THAT happened.
"I hope you're ready to melt your tongue off, Alex," Briar notes, "because Keoni's definitely going to want you to sample this curry of his when it's ready."
With Keoni's departure, Lu-sensei turns to Master Wen and, in a mild tone, says, "I believe that constituted a challenge."
"From one master of his craft to another," Wen agrees with a nod.
"How fortunate, then, that young Alex had already thought to invite you to remain."
"Most fortunate indeed." Wen pauses then, frowning slightly. "Though I must admit, I am not entirely certain how long that magical device will permit me to stay, or if the duration can be affected by my level of activity."
The two masters turn to you, expressions showing the same unspoken question.
"It should be long enough for you to make it through lunch, sir," you answer. "At least as long as you don't drain your energies too far - say, past one-sixth of your maximum capacity?"
Granted, you're basing that estimate on your experiences with Shadow Alex, who is an entirely different order of being than Master Wen; as such, the theory may not bear out in practice. Still, the two Hearts should be functionally similar...
"We shall see, then," Wen muses.
"I am pretty sure there's more to a good curry than just how spicy it is, Briar," you note.
Master Wen makes a sound of agreement around the spoon in his mouth.
"That said, bring on the spicy food!"
"Ha!" And with that, your Grandmaster claps you on the back. "Good lad!" Then he turns to your teacher. "What do you say, Lu? Shall we make this challenge one for the whole school?"
"I will have to pass, Master Wen." Lu Tze places one hand lightly over his belly, while raising the other in a gesture of polite refusal. "Spicy food has never really agreed with me."
"Ah. A shame, but as the wise man said, 'He who does not heed the complaints of his stomach, will regret it in the end.'"
You do a double-take at that remark.
NOT the kind of thing you expect to hear from a martial arts master.
There is a pause as Master Wen continues to savor his morning curry and rice, but as the bowls gradually run low, Lu Tze finally asks the Grandmaster how we feels about the idea of providing instruction in the more spiritual aspect of the School of Five Elements.
"That very much depends on just who I would be teaching," Wen replies, with a stern glance at your master.
Lu Tze actually winces. "Ah. Of course, I would not dream of passing up an opportunity to improve my knowledge of the Way-"
Wen makes a sound of mild suspicion at that.
"-but my foremost concern is for my students, particularly the younger ones whose souls are still malleable enough to realize their full personal potential in the spiritual arts - to say nothing of their current vulnerability to the untoward influences of our... charming hometown."
And now Wen winces. "Fair point," he admits. "Although speaking of which, I have to ask: what under Heaven made you think that taking up residence on a Hellmouth was a good idea? Particularly with your spiritual skills as limited as they are?"
"I needed a place that had enough supernatural background noise to hide the Jade Dragon, but which didn't have adepts or mystics with connections to certain special interest groups running around. If there's a place in California or the surrounding states that fits the bill and DOESN'T have a demon problem, I couldn't find it then, and I still haven't." Lu Tze shrugs. "Besides, my limitations were fairly well-known by the people I was most concerned about avoiding - and I, in turn, had a good idea of their skills and the way they thought. Going to ground in a spiritually-hazardous environment seemed like something they would not expect."
"...as you still retain possession of the sword, I suppose it is safe to say that gamble paid off."
Lu nods. "All of that aside... I do not aspire to be a hero, Master Wen, but I try to be a good man. Had I turned away from the evil that festers in that town, I could not have continued to call myself 'good.'"
Wen says nothing to that.
In the end, the Grandmaster has no real objection to the idea of supplementing Lu-sensei's martial lessons with more philosophical and mystical ones. His only concerns are how much teaching he'd be able to do over time - a question that can't be answered until you all have a better idea of what the limits of the Heart of Wen are - how well the wards on the dojo will hide spiritual activity, and how much he'll be getting paid for his services.
Lu Tze shakes his head at that last one. "After meeting the Postman and Alex's tutors, I don't know why I'm still surprised by the notion of enlightened beings who retain their material attachments. The philosophers must be weeping, though."
"Did not the Buddha say that existence is suffering?"
Is there anything else you'd like to discuss here (whether personally or via Sensei-proxy)?
It occurs to you that Wen is the Founder of the School of Five Elements, and that four of those elements exist in states of paired opposition: Air against Earth; Fire against Water.
...at least, that's how it works in the Western and Hyrulean traditions. Earth's Eastern traditions arrange things differently, use other elements, or both. But even within the Wu Xing's cycles of generation and overcoming or the layers of the Godai, it's possible to have the elements in a state of imbalance.
No matter which philosophy he was working from, if the Grandmaster achieved a state of ascension, then surely, he must have found a way to bring those elements into harmony within himself - right?
Another casual glance at Wen's aura, and the way it fades into the environment, does support that idea. You just wonder how to express your curiosity on the subject without overstepping your bounds, student-to-grandmaster...
"Something troubles you, young Alexander?"
...right, "ascendant martial arts grandmaster" kind of implies ascendant- and/or grandmaster-level perceptive abilities.
Since Master Wen has given you the in you wanted, you tell him your thoughts on the matter of elemental affinities, the harmonization thereof, and how it connects to... whatever it is that he's doing with his aura. Assuming, of course, that there is any connection.
As you speak, Wen looks you over, his dark old eyes briefly lighting up with the well-constrained signs of Ki Sight, and then Spiritual Sight after it. He doesn't actively probe your aura, but you don't doubt that he's seeing plenty all the same.
"Before I make any definitive statements on the subject," Master Wen says, after you've wound down, "let me ask you this: how many elements are you looking to balance? In the long term."
Although you suspect that Master Wen can already see through or around your efforts to hide your energies, you go ahead and lower your defenses anyway.
True, it would have been an opportunity to match your self-control and stealth against the senses of a Grandmaster, but staying on your guard in this situation would imply that you don't trust Wen, and that would just be counterproductive.
Besides, you suspect that you'll have other opportunities to match skills with the master.
You answer without hesitation.
"And how many is that?" Wen inquires.
"Counting just the major elements? Ten, sir. Earth, Fire, Air, and Water; Life, Spirit, and Time; Light, Shadow, and Darkness."
Wen stares at you for a moment. "From the way you said that, I assume there are more?"
"Lesser aspects and combinations of those ten, but yes, sir."
Once again, there is a pause.
"...well," he finally says. "No one can accuse you of lacking ambition. It's a good thing you're young, though; this sort of task does not find its end quickly."
As Wen explains, the path that brought him to where he is today is one that he walked for his entire mortal lifetime - even if, for the first few decades of that life, he was largely unaware and uncaring of his destination. For Wen is no divine being, sprung fully-formed from the brow of some greater god of martial arts, nor did he take up the Art with the intention of one day founding an entire new style, pushing past the limits of body, mind, and spirit, and ultimately transitioning to a higher state of being.
No, in the beginning, there was just a boy who saw the sun and moon moving across the heavens, the grains of sand falling through the hourglass, and the growth of his own body and the decline of his elders', and asked himself if that was all Time was, or if there might be something more to it. It took him a long time, a great deal of study, and even more reflection, before he found an answer.
The whole martial arts thing was entirely incidental, coming about after young Wen saw a group of fully-grown, armed, and ill-mannered bandits foolishly accost a little bald wrinkly smiling man, and get bounced off the nearby walls for their effrontery.
"'Old Man,' I said in amazement, 'how is it you can do these things?' And he who would become my Master said unto me, 'Young Man, how is it that you can ask this when you are bleeding from the forehead like that?' For indeed, the backswing of one of the thugs' clubs had caught me across the brow, and I was sorely dazed. And I said unto him, 'Old Man, I do not know.' And his reply was, 'Then you have the beginning of wisdom, and perhaps a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?'"
...are origin stories supposed to go like this?
The Grandmaster goes on to say that the School of Five Elements came about more as the natural consequence of a long series of misadventures than any deliberate decision on his part. He would have been perfectly content to learn what the old man had to teach, and then spend the rest of his life contemplating the mysteries of the universe in peace, but the era and region in which he lived were not the most conducive to such ventures, especially not for one known to be the student of a wandering master with a tendency to leave cracked walls, broken thugs, and humbled lordlings in his wake. Young Wen got into a great deal of trouble because of his teacher, and by emerging triumphant from most of it, soon had a reputation of his own, which drew in more trouble - a cycle of generation for which he did not care, yet could not escape. Others who sought to learn from the old master arrived, only for the bulk of their instruction to be passed on to Wen-
"'For I am old and weary, and it is the filial duty of the student to support his master, particularly when the master can still kick the student's backside across the sparring grounds.'"
-whose reputation grew again. Even after he and his teacher parted ways-
"Which is to say, he died in his sleep one night without any warning, and left me holding the bag."
-Wen still found himself followed by challengers and aspiring students, as well as those he had already taught in his teacher's stead, and who now called him Master and themselves his disciples. And why would they not? Had Wen not instructed them in the Art?
"If only on pain of personal pain... at first. After a while, it got to be a habit."
Had he not organized them, seen to their food and lodgings, and instilled discipline in them?
"It caused so much less trouble when we didn't look like a mob of bandits descending on the latest village."
Did he not call on them to face lesser challengers to prove the virtue of their style, and step in to face greater or more terrible opponents that outstripped them?
"If I'd fought all of them, I never would have gotten any time to myself!"
Had he not been the old master's designated heir?
"Only because it let him get away with dumping MORE work on me."
Did he not take the techniques of his teacher, and make something new from them?
"...that was entirely my own fault," Wen admits glumly. "It's just, after all those years on the road, facing all those different challengers and other dangers - storm and flood, avalanche and earthquake, fires natural and not - and living through them, a man can't help but get inspired!"
Do you have any questions about what the Grandmaster of Five Elements has said so far?
Wen's discourse about his "early life" leaves you curious about the identity of his master, and what you might be able to find in the historical record about the man.
When you inquire on the subject, Wen explains that his master was known by a number of names, not all of them complimentary. To the more refined levels of society whose toes the old man periodically stepped on, he was known as "Master Hu," using the meaning "barbarian." Among those who benefited from his bone-breaking and wall-cracking antics, he was more often called "Zhihao," with the meaning of "heroic will" - though some of them also called him Hu. Usually after he'd busted up their walls.
There were other, even less polite names thrown around, but Wen doesn't repeat them.
Towards the end of his apprenticeship, Wen was invited to address his teacher in private as "He," read as "harmony" or "peace." He is fairly sure this was his master's true given name - ironic, considering the sort of chaos the old man tended to leave in his wake - but he cannot speak to what his family name might have been, as the master never used it, even just between the two of them.
There are implications to such an act, which are backed up by the old master's refusal to name his own teachers - at least directly. There were certain techniques that he knew but neither taught nor claimed to have developed, ones which your Grandmaster learned from observing and facing students of other styles, whose own teachers Master He would occasionally disappear with, coming back with bruises, a bottle of rice wine he hadn't had before, and/or one arm linked around his partner's, as they sang to the stars (badly).
For all that was hinted at by these meetings, nothing was ever SAID where Wen or the junior students could hear it. As such, while the Grandmaster has his suspicions about his teacher's lineage, both familial and educational, he has no proof - and out of respect for that long-dead old man's unspoken wish for privacy, he does not care to speculate.
"After a thousand years, it's unlikely to harm anyone," he admits, "but I have honored my teacher's wishes this long. I see no reason to stop doing so."
"'A thousand years,'" you repeat, suddenly reminded of the Memorians.
"Maybe closer to eleven hundred," Master Wen concedes. "The Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period lasted between fifty and seventy years, depending on who you ask - but 'eleven hundred' doesn't quite roll off the tongue the way 'a thousand' does."
Gained Chinese History F
"Out of curiosity, sir," you ask, "is there anyone from that era that you were on friendly terms with who might still be walking the Earth, and that you'd like to meet up with?"
"Oh, almost certainly not," the ageless master replies without hesitation. "I mean, it's possible that I met a Daoist immortal or god in disguise and failed to realize it for all this time, but I rather doubt it. Gods like to be recognized, sooner rather than later, and the immortals aren't exactly shy themselves. The only individuals of my acquaintance that might have lived this long were either the sort I had to kill along the way - demons, undead, the odd sorcerer who would have since become one or both of those - or have moved on to other realms."
Master Wen pauses to take another spoonful of his dwindling curry
In that break, you glance at Lu Tze, considering whether or not to ask if his experiences as a disciple on the path to mastery had anything in common with the sort of lifestyle Wen has described. It doesn't seem like it'd be directly relevant to your original question, but if there's a "traditional" path to mastery in the School of Five Elements, it could be useful to know where you stand upon it, if you do at all.
Or it could just be amusing on its own merits.
"Whatever you're thinking, Alex," Lu-sensei says, "the answer is, 'No.'"
When the master puts his foot down, a good student drops the subject. And so you do.
Wen, meanwhile, resumes his somewhat rambling autobiography.
Following Master He's death, Wen was left with a conundrum. After more than ten years on the road, he had gained a breadth of experience in the martial arts that few of the more formally-trained adepts his age could match. He had faced dozens of styles, from the well-known to the obscure, and if he had not defeated all comers, he had at least never failed to recover and learn from his losses. Nor was his education limited solely to the ancient art of busting heads, for even a master cannot always live by martial arts alone, and not all his challenges were on the field of combat. Between debates of literature and philosophy, contests of written and visual artistry, and the sheer range of odd jobs Wen had been forced to take on in order to make ends meet, he was nearly as capable in peace as in war. And though the old man's passing had come as a surprise to his heir, Master He himself had clearly been expecting it for some time, for he left letters of accreditation and introduction that would have made it easy for Wen to start a new life, with a modest but respectable place in society.
But what of the students? At that time, some threescore souls had followed Wen and He, and while the old master's death saw many going their own way, half yet remained, addressing Wen as "master" and expressing a continued desire to follow and learn from him. Numbering thirty-seven in all, they were to a one lesser sons, runaways, peasant-born, and orphans, young men and older boys with no real prospects for themselves, no family connections to call upon, and no skills of note beyond what Wen and He had instilled in them.
If Wen was to begin one of the new lives whose doors his teacher had opened to him, he knew that he must leave these would-be disciples behind, for he could not see even the most friendly and generous of Master He's old companions taking on more than one or two of them, in addition to himself. But if cut loose and left to their own devices, what would become of them? Masterless, rootless, and nameless, it would be all too easy for them to fall into bad habits and worse trouble, especially in those trying times, when their greatest and sometimes only skills revolved around the application of violence. Luck might see a handful finding safe harbor in spite of the odds, but for the rest, soldiery, banditry, or beggary seemed inevitable.
Wen found that he did not care for those options.
Yet what could he do? Using up Master He's favors and contacts to try and find places for his followers would only result in the best of them being taken in, leaving those most likely to fall victim to the cruel realities of the world out in the cold regardless - to say nothing of his own fate.
Accepting the title of "master" and finding a place to teach was not without its appeal, but none of Master He's martially-inclined associates would take him on as such from the start, not without several more years of work to get him up to speed in their styles and philosophies. Nor could he simply create his own training hall in a city or town; that took money he did not have, permits his teacher's name and letters would not gain him - rather the opposite - and a reputation that would draw in paying students and let him find a place amid already-established schools.
Simply continuing to wander, living day-to-day, hand-to-mouth, and fight-to-fight, was an unappealing choice to start with, and less so with the specter of Master He's recent death hanging over it as an example of the eventual outcome. For a time, though, it seemed the only way.
And then, the spring following Master He's death, Master Wen made a discovery.
"We were crossing the mountains," he recounts over the last of the curry. "It was really too early in the season for it, but our money was low and our welcome in the last town had worn thin, so we had little choice. One of the students went to the river to fetch water one morning, only to discover fresh cherry blossom petals, of all things, floating among the ice. We searched for the source, and followed the river back upstream until we reached a waterfall that came right out of the cliff." Wen makes a gesture with his hands, indicating a sheer vertical face. "Forty feet straight up, stone worn smooth by the falls, and slick from the spray besides, to say nothing of the chill. Yet the mouth of the cave was large enough that the water didn't fill it, and it looked like a man could walk alongside the flow without getting his feet wet, if he could just make it up there. So I told the boys to move our camp, took some rope and the closest thing I had to a disciple - an idiot, but a brave and loyal one - and went looking for the source of the flowers."
With eyes that see only distant memory, Wen recounts the climb - the feel of the cold, hard, damp stone; the endless thunder of the falls just beyond arm's reach; the growing distance from the ground, and the rocks below just waiting for a mistake; the idiot apprentice nearly breaking his fool neck with reckless courage - and the subsequent fumbling through a dark natural tunnel, while trying not to bang his head on a hanging stone or stumble into the freezing, fast-moving current just a couple of steps to the right.
And then, suddenly, light. And beyond that...
"It was the most beautiful little hidden valley you ever did see," the Grandmaster murmurs in fond recollection. "Carved out by thousands of years of runoff from the mountain's peak, with a hundred little streams still trickling down the sides, gathering in pools at different elevations, hanging in the air as a mist, getting lost in the caves, or joining the river at the base of the valley and making their way out through the falls. Everywhere you looked, there was life: moss and lichens clinging to the stones; grass growing in little patches here and there; the cherry trees blooming like a sunrise; little birds flying about; fish leaping in the pools; even a few goats, who clearly had no idea what we gangling two-legged things were or how we'd gotten into their little paradise. My apprentice fell to his knees and declared the gods had shown us a sign; for once, I think he was exactly right."
A place seemingly unknown to men before Wen's arrival, and not claimed by any local lord, the hidden valley would become the site of the first School of the Five Elements. Not right away, of course: an easier route into and out of the valley had to be found or created first-
"We hung a rope-ladder by the falls, and later set up a pulley elevator to carry larger loads. The lads grumbled plenty about hauling everything up and down, but the only other route we ever found took two full days for most of those who tried it and made it, sending you up and around the mountain, across the narrowest and most dizzying paths I ever had the displeasure to see. The goats must have gotten in that way, but it wasn't meant for men, let alone carts. Then one bright spark looked at the waterfall and started talking about waterwheels..."
-building materials and labor needed to be sourced; arrangements had to be made for food and other supplies; and naturally, all of that needed to somehow be paid for.
"We got VERY good at barter, and I got a good idea of how and why certain ascetic orders became as they were."
But within five years of its discovery, a simple wooden training hall and a handful of huts would stand among the stones of the valley. The residents survived on a mix of the valley's natural bounty, their own modest efforts at agriculture, and a quiet trade with a village some way down the mountain.
"We weren't actually an order of monks, but there were certain similarities in our appearance" - Wen gestures at himself, robed and shaven-headed - "and skillset. And after you've spent a few years in one area, encouraging caravan guards to behave themselves in the tavern and with people's unmarried daughters, smacking down restless spirits for another year, throwing the occasional monster right off the mountain, and just generally behaving yourself and being helpful... well, people kind of get used to having you around."
Even after all of that, it was only after one of his students had achieved mastery - a task requiring another three years - that Grandmaster Wen finally had the time to sit down in the quietest corner of the valley and do some serious meditation on the subject of inner peace, cosmic harmony, and personal balance, as tradition said all the true masters and enlightened sages did.
"I did that for a year," he declares somberly, "and in that time, I learned many things. I learned that bumbling around in the pre-dawn hours without a light is a good way to break something, but that the view of the stars is awesome. I confirmed that sitting on a rock in the mountains all day is cold, boring, hard on your backside, occasionally wet, and just bad for your conditioning in general. I was greatly surprised to discover that a yeti had been living in that valley since before we came along, and even more so when he asked to learn from me."
...wut?
"Wait," Lu-sensei interrupts with a look of surprise. "You mean that story about Master Walking Glacier was TRUE?"
"Master who?" you blurt out.
"No, Master Walking Glacier," Wen corrects you, with an air of long patience and old, old amusement. "Hu is my brother."
You blink.
"Really, Grandmaster?" your teacher groans.
"That joke is older than my GRANDMOTHER," Briar exclaims in the same tone.
Wen grins, revealing more teeth - not to mention cleaner and straighter ones - than you might have expected from a man born over a thousand years ago. "And it still works!"
You decline to comment on that.
"What I meant was, the School of Five Elements had a Master who was a yeti?" You look from Wen to Lu Tze. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about this?" You pause, frowning as another thought occurs to you, and add, "And for that matter, how did a valley's worth of martial artists manage to miss something as big as a yeti for... what was it, eight years?"
Wen and Lu trade glances, and the Founder gestures for his distant successor to go ahead.
"As to the first question, Alex," Lu says, "yes, the historical record of our School describes Master Walking Glacier as a yeti. Up until now, though, I always thought that was somebody taking poetic license, or the original recorder just not liking him very much." Your master shrugs. "Apparently, I was mistaken."
"You learn something new every day," Wen chimes in, nodding. "Or at least, you should endeavor to."
"For the second question," Lu continues, "Master Walking Glacier wasn't in our line of succession; he went off and taught his own branch of the Five Elements... which I suppose would have been to other yetis?" he asks, turning back to Wen.
"Yetis, wild men, a troll or two, members of one of the Water Tribes who ended up living inland and at high altitude rather than by the coast, some human mountain hermits and actual monks..." Wen trails off. "Yeti can live a fairly long time even without ki training, and Master Walking Glacier was both young and industrious."
Lu Tze nods and looks your way again. "In any case, I don't know much about him or his heirs beyond that, and I didn't bring him up because it was never important before. If you're interested in the extended history and membership of the School, I'll have to arrange a visit with one of the older teaching halls to see their records. I didn't bring any copies with me when I moved to Sunnydale, and I've kept my own records as bare-bones as possible."
You join Wen in a thoughtful nod, briefly reflecting upon why Lu-sensei would have made such a decision, but mostly thinking about whether or not you'd like to visit one of your style's sister-schools - and if so, when.
"As for how we missed Walking Glacier's presence all those years," Wen pipes up, "it was a mix of things. Yeti are creatures of the cold and high altitudes, adapted to and comfortable in conditions humans find unpleasant, at best; conversely, they are uncomfortable in the environments we prefer. Walking Glacier only came down into the warmer parts of the valley during the winter months, or if the cherries were in season and he was in the mood to have some; when we moved in, he confined his 'visits' to after dark, and always kept a distance from our torches and fires." The Grandmaster waves a hand over his eyes. "Yeti have much better night vision than humans do, you see."
"And you didn't find any tracks or sense his ki? Youki? Whichever?"
"Youki, and no - or maybe it is more accurate to say we didn't have the experience to recognize what we were sensing. None of us had ever met a yeti before, and they're very well adapted to hiding in mountainous terrain, especially when surrounded by ice and snow. It's not just physical camouflage, either; their auras blend in as well, not unlike the way you've noticed mine doing."
"Took a few tips from a master in his own style?" Lu guesses.
"Never stop learning," Wen replies with a nod. "In any case, Walking Glacier was well-hidden from both our inner and outer eyes, and he was careful not to leave any physical tracks besides. On top of that, he would spend weeks at a time roaming over the mountainside without ever setting foot in the valley, he hibernated through the height of summer, and we were hundreds of miles from the lands his kind were known to frequent, so the idea a yeti was living nearby never occurred to us. And since we were not looking, we did not see."
"There is a proverb in that," Lu Tze sagely observes, stroking his thinly-bearded chin.
"Indeed."
Although you do want to learn more about the history of the School of Five Elements and those who practiced it before you, there is no urgency behind that desire. On top of that, your schedule for the next few months is, if not completely packed, then certainly busy enough that finding time for such a visit might require you to reschedule or drop something else you want to do.
Not that you wouldn't do that, if there was some terribly pressing reason to, but there isn't. And your parents would be happier if you didn't skip out on a day (or more) of school, anyway.
There's also Lu Tze's responsibilities and finances to think about.
With that in mind, you suggest a summer visit to whichever sibling dojo he has in mind. Once you're out of school and Sunnydale has started doing its annual impersonation of a ghost town, both you and your teacher will be in much better positions to attend to out-of-town business, especially the sort that might last for a few days.
Lu Tze agrees with your suggestion, and says he'll have some letters for the Postman to deliver in a few days.
Following the brief divergence regarding Master Walking Glacier, Wen gets back on track with his account.
After that year of regular intensive meditation, the Grandmaster had experienced many revelations of the small, everyday sort that he described to you, but of great insights into the secrets of existence, he had none. In fact, the longer he tried to meditate in the prescribed manner, the more he found himself becoming distracted from and unsatisfied by the experience - particularly when winter arrived.
"It takes a special kind of dedication to sit on a rock and meditate when there is a blizzard raging all around you," Wen observes.
"Or idiocy," Lu Tze chips in.
"Or idiocy," Wen agrees, nodding. "And while I am certainly not the wisest man to ever live, neither was I THAT dedicated. But there was not ALWAYS a storm, and meditation among the new-fallen snow is not without its own charm." He grins. "Especially once you have mastered ki to the point where you can walk across the snow without leaving tracks, and gather and hold a little blanket of the stuff across your head and shoulders, unmelting, and in relative comfort. Walking Glacier was very helpful figuring that out, and it never failed to freak out the students when they saw me 'sitting out in the cold all night.'"
Ah. So he IS evil, after all.
"Still, winter could not last forever: the seasons turned, as they always do; the storms died down; the snow receded; and spring came to us once again. And one morning in that spring, as I sat on my cold, hard rock and failed to meditate in favor of watching the sun come up and paint the cherry blossoms from pale pink to fiery red and orange, I wondered that for the near-decade I had lived in that valley, I had never seen such a sight before. And THAT" - he slaps his hand on the table, hard enough to rattle the now-empty curry bowls - "is when it hit me that I had spent that year being an even greater idiot than the one who tries to meditate in the middle of a snowstorm."
"'These blossoms, this sun; I have never seen them before, for before this moment, they did not exist,'" Lu Tze murmurs.
Wen squints at him from beneath a pointed brow, and then glances away, muttering something that sounds like "Clodpool" and "damn poetic nonsense."
"Anyhow," the Grandmaster says, valiantly attempting to forge ahead. "After you strip away the flowery language-"
"Ha, ha, ha," Briar laughs in a slow monotone. "A pun."
"-the POINT," Wen raises his voice a bit, "is that I realized I had been going about my efforts all WRONG. Sitting in one place all day, emptying my mind of all distraction to gain a greater understanding of the cosmos, and my own place within it? Bah! I was not contemplating existence, I was IGNORING it! One small valley is not the world, much less all of Creation, no matter how pretty it is! And that Creation was out there, IS out there, right this instant - and Time gives us only so many instants. When one is over, it is GONE, forever. Sit on a rock with your eyes and ears closed to the world? The world may as well not exist! YOU may as well not exist! All those moments, WASTED!"
Wen's voice is neither angry nor loud, but there is an intensity to his words which was lacking before.
"Even setting aside lofty philosophy," he goes on with a dismissive wave, "I was ignoring the fundamental principle of my own art, which is to. Keep. Moving. Do not block, when you can dodge. Do not dodge, when you can smack the other guy before he gets a chance to attack. Do not attack, when you can avoid the fight entirely. Move, and keep moving, and never stop moving, whether in body or in mind. To move, is to LIVE. To stop, is to DIE. And here I was, sitting on a rock all day, because tradition and a bunch of little old men said so? I was NOT traditional! I learned on the road, from a crazy old bastard who would pick a fight at the drop of a hat, and then make me clean up his messes! I was a master in everything but name before I was even twenty! I had the makings of my own MONASTERY by the time I was thirty! One of my students was a YETI, for gods' sakes! Who teaches a yeti!?"
Um.
"Exactly!" Wen agrees. "I won't claim that I was the first human to ever formally train a yeti, but I was certainly the first that I or anyone else I talked to had ever heard of. Even Walking Glacier admitted that most of what his people had learned from humans was gleaned by observing them at a distance-"
A people after your own heart.
"-with only a few bits of direct interaction, and never anything like actual instruction. Not that I can really blame either side for that," Wen admits in an aside. "The idea of a three-meter tall carnivore with enough strength to crush rock, a freezing touch, and sufficient stealth to appear without warning in the middle of a snowstorm or mountain pass is the sort of thing that would make most people nervous just hearing about it, much less seeing it for real. And the yeti are rather shy creatures, and wary of fire besides. It didn't exactly help that so many humans who saw a yeti would run away, and go right over a cliff or something similarly fatal in their panic."
That does seem like the sort of thing that would put a damper on inter-species diplomacy.
Shaking his head, Wen gets back on track, and describes how, after his moment of revelation, he got up off his rock and started actually doing things again. To the majority of his students, he appeared to have moved deeper into seclusion, seeking harmony and enlightenment in the remotest corners of the valley and the mountainside beyond; in fact, he was training Walking Glacier, and when not doing that, he was breaking down everything he had ever learned about the martial arts, and viewing it through the lens of his new understanding of existence.
Two years on, progress somewhat delayed by the yeti's summer hibernation, Master Wen introduced Walking Glacier to his fellow disciples, to much amazement and yelling.
"No running off of cliffs, though," Wen notes with a nod. "There was some fainting, and one kid ran face-first INTO a cliff, but that was the worst of it."
After sorting out that mess, Wen grabbed half a dozen students of varying levels of talent, hauled them out into the wilderness with him, and spent a year retraining them in his modified art, in the heart of the elements. Air, water, earth, and a distinct absence of fire surrounded them at every moment, waking and sleeping, the pressure to endure, adapt to, and overcome the elements, to make the most of their alloted Time, a lesson in and of itself. No food or drink was provided, forcing the students to subsist on what they could forage or kill for themselves. The fundamental lesson of all martial arts, how to fall safely, was revised and expanded to become, "how to fall down the side of a mountain safely," while targets and body-hardening tools of wood were replaced with pools of frigid mountain spring water, formations of ice, and even massive, timeless slabs of stone.
And even as he taught them, Wen continued to review, refine, and reinvent his art - much to the dismay of the students, who were forced more than once to unlearn and then relearn a technique.
One year of training passed into another. Some of the selected students could not keep the pace and withdrew from the "advanced" lessons, or quit the school entirely. They were replaced by those curious or confident enough to approach the Grandmaster and ask to learn directly from him, in spite of the horror stories of their predecessors.
Wen's redevelopment of his style continued.
Two years became three, and then four. All but two of the original handpicked group of six had bowed out; of those who remained, one was a fighting prodigy, while the other had been a complete novice before Wen pulled him from the beginner's class. They were now part of a group over twice as large as it had been at the beginning, whose members initially rotated in and out every few months, but gradually became almost constant. More than that, they were no longer confined to the valley; each year, between the spring thaw and the first snows, Wen would lead his new class of students down from the mountains to wander the plains and cities once more, testing their skills and their knowledge against all comers, making new enemies, gathering new adherents, and building the Grandmaster's reputation ever higher - or lower, depending on who you asked and which side of Wen's fist or philosophy they were on.
The fourth year passed into the fifth, and all too soon, half a decade had become a whole one.
And in that time, the School of the Five Elements as you know it was truly born.
And another decade or so down the line, Wen noticed that he wasn't slowing down like he should have. Then closing in on sixty, he looked and felt and MOVED like a man half his age.
And he kept on doing so, until one day, during his ninety-fifth year, Grandmaster Wen took a walk, and found himself... elsewhere.
"What happened after that is a tale for another time," Wen declares, fixing you with a keen gaze. "Now then, young Alex. You may be asking yourself, 'what was the point of this old man's long, rambling, self-indulgent story, and how does it relate to my original question about elemental harmony?'"
"I don't know about Alex," Briar says, "but I was definitely having thoughts in that direction."
Wen nods at her, but keeps looking at you. "What do you think the answer is?" He holds one hand up to Lu-sensei, palm facing forward, and adds, "And no hints from the master, please."
You take a minute to ponder Wen's question, going back over his tale and considering both the high points and the seemingly-idle remarks.
Finally, you state your answer: "I think it calls back to your revelation about looking outwards, instead of just focusing inwards, sir. To learn about how the elements, and people, interact in their 'natural environment,' rather than a controlled one like a training hall?"
You can't quite keep the note of uncertainty out of your reply.
"Not sure about that, huh?" the Grandmaster questions.
"It was a fairly long story, sir," you offer neutrally.
He nods. "And the old man rambling made it hard to follow."
"I didn't say that, sir."
You may have been thinking it, a bit, but you definitely didn't say it.
Wen waves that off. "It's true. And your answer is certainly not wrong, though it's not the point I was trying to make. Not your fault, though; I'm terribly out of practice at this sort of thing." He straightens up in his seat. "You were on the right track when you mentioned my personal watershed moment. Training among the elements certainly helped, but it was my realization that what had worked for other people was not working for me that allowed me to progress further down the path of the art - and that lesson, I think, applies to you even more than it did to me. You are not just a martial artist; you are also a sorcerer, and touched by the divine on top of that."
The Grandmaster holds out his right hand, fingers cupped, and focuses. There is a faint pulse of ki, and tongues of flame leap from his upturned palm, filling the "bowl" of his hand as they dance about.
In the background, you notice some of your other guests turning towards Wen, their attention drawn by the use of ki or the burst of flame.
"This was about the limit of my ability to generate and manipulate fire, when I really started to develop the School of Five Elements," the Grandmaster explains. He twists his wrist and straightens his fingers, and instead of falling out of his 'grasp,' the flame spreads along the entirety of his hand. "I had a similar level of proficiency with the others," he continues, as he makes a fist, flame swooping upwards. When he unclenches his fingers a moment later, he's holding a roughly spherical mass of flame once more. "Useful little tricks, to be sure, but nothing especially spectacular. Most of my experience and instruction up until then had been concerned with learning how to resist, evade, or bypass such things, rather than control them."
Wen bounces the fire-ball on his palm a couple of times, and then flings it straight up into the air; it expands and deforms rapidly as it rises, until at a height of about ten feet, it's more of a haze of heat than fire. Shortly after that, it's dissipated entirely.
"Bringing elemental affinities of that modest level into harmony was comparatively simple," Wen tells you candidly. "And being perfectly honest, I cheated a bit."
"...how so?"
"The four basic elements are roughly equivalent to the four states of matter, and Matter exists within Time - is subject to it. Wind and Water move through their own cycles, Earth is built up and eroded away, Fire is reborn again and again, and Time is what allows for all of those changes to occur. The more I developed my understanding of and affinity for Time, the easier it became for me to regulate my lesser affinities, which, as I said, were not terribly strong to begin with." Wen frowns at you. "I do not think such a method will work for your desire to cultivate harmony among TEN affinities, not unless your strongest affinity is for an element that is naturally dominant over the rest...?"
You have to stop and consider that.
Your current strongest affinities are for Earth and Darkness. Earth definitely wouldn't work for this, as it occupies a place on the lowest of the three elemental circles in your personal variant of Hyrulean magical theory. But Darkness?
You place Darkness within the third and highest of the elemental circles. It is in a position of dominance over all seven of the "lower" elements, and also naturally overcomes the peer element of Shadow. The only element Darkness holds no advantage over - and the only one it is weakened by - is Light.
At least, within your system.
According to the orthodox Hyrulean philosophy, Darkness exists outside the three circles. Beyond them.
...even, in some way, above them...?
"Wait, WHAT?" Briar bursts out, as she leaps into the air.
Having completely expected this sort of reaction, you have already raised a hand and started speaking before she can get any farther than that. "Let me finish? Please?"
Your partner hovers in front of your face for a moment, silent but for the flutter of her wings, and then crosses her arms and drifts backwards a bit, giving you room - and leave - to speak.
"Thank you, Briar." You turn from her, to Wen. "As I was saying, using the Element of Darkness the way you describe could work. It's one of the highest-ranked within my personal magic system, and it's one for which I have a strong personal affinity besides."
"However...?" Wen leads.
"However, there are a number of reasons why using Darkness that way could - not necessarily WOULD, mind you, but very definitely COULD - be a bad idea."
You lay out a summary of orthodox Hyrulean elemental theory, your own take on it, and where Darkness sits in the two divergent traditions. You also explain WHY the Hyruleans were so reluctant to acknowledge or make use of the Dark Element, ranging from what the element is supposed to represent, to its history of abuse by various Dark Lord types down through the ages, to your own experiences in wielding DARKEST SORCERY - few and far between as they have been, outside of your lessons with Batreaux.
You doubt you will ever forget the sight of the Mother Gohma being eaten alive by your curse-gone-wrong.
Likewise for the Familiar Binding Ritual. The Ritual wasn't Dark Magic itself, of course, but you did include a Potion of Blindness to represent that element and test-slash-prove the validity of your personal magical style. And the sheer amount of time and effort you put into preparing for that ceremony was downright traum- that is to say, you're never going to forget THAT, either.
Especially not the whole Eclipse of Doom, and everything that happened while unholy clouds of vampire bats darkened the skies of Europe.
You throw in an acknowledgement of how focusing on Dark Magic when you live on top of the Hellmouth is liable to end badly. Even with all your existing precautions and abundant use of purification rituals, it just feels like you'd be tempting Fate, Murphy, and other powers better left unnamed to come have a go.
As for your past life issues...
...you'll save those for another time, and a less public venue.
Making it look as casual as possible, you take a cautious glance around at the dining area. While it's far from crowded, there's easily twenty people scattered about besides your little group, some of them lazy risers enjoying a late breakfast/early brunch, others lingering over a meal run long, and more just sitting around, talking.
That's enough ears - and especially supernaturally-sensitive ones - for you to practice basic information security, and not bring up a topic as sensitive as your unquiet past life experience.
Besides, you have plenty of examples to explain to Wen why you are worried about mainlining the power of Darkness.
For his part, the Grandmaster hears out your concerns with a calmly impassive expression.
"I can see why you would have reservations about the idea," he says with a nod. "Particularly when you call this 'Sunnydale' place home. It's one thing to seek enlightenment in a harsh environment, and quite another to do so in a toxic one. And one that is actively malignant, besides?" Wen shakes his head. "No, that would never work. Simply maintaining spiritual health over time in such a location would be more than the average soul could manage, even with training."
Hence your personal practice of daily purification, your efforts to get yourself and your in-the-know friends and family cleansed by professionals, and why you asked Ambrose for help warding your home. You mention these facts to Wen as well.
"Good call," he approves. "Though I would encourage you to get out of that town as soon as possible."
This idea has occurred to you before, and you say as much. The main stumbling blocks at this point are your family's financial situation, and just convincing your parents to move. Even then, the former is less about actually having the money - because between your magical abilities, your contacts in the Moonlit World, and your entrepreneurial endeavors therein and on Hyrule, you are quite capable of overcoming or working around most purely financial hurdles, given a little time - and more about not drawing too much attention to your family from the mundane authorities or unsavory supernatural sorts.
Though there's also the matter of not stepping on your parents' toes in the process. They are, you note to Wen, still coming to terms with just how much you're really capable of, much less some of the implications of your abilities when it comes to more mundane matters.
"And having their nine-year-old son 'pay' for their new house out of his pocket is the sort of thing that would be a bit... awkward," you conclude.
"...I can honestly say that this is not a problem I have any experience with," Wen admits with a bemused blink.
"That happens around Alex a lot," Briar says.
Wen nods, and then gets back the original subject.
Since relying on a Darkness-based form of elemental balance is out of the question - at least for as long as you continue to live in Sunnydale, if not altogether - you're going to have to do things the hard way, and bring all your elemental affinities into harmony. This is one of the most advanced and difficult forms of spiritual exercise Wen knows of, however, and your current spiritual abilities are nowhere near capable of it. Much study, training, and meditation lies in your future - but then, that would have been the case even if you'd unequivocally chosen to embrace the Darkness.
Aside from teaching you the spiritual aspect of the School of Five Elements, the best advice Wen can give you on this matter for now is to not delve too deeply into the elements, as minor affinities with minimal influence should be easier to harmonize than stronger ones.
Given the strength of some of your existing affinities, that's easier said than done, but you will keep it in mind.
Checking the time, you find that you've spent most of an hour talking with Wen, which feels like more than enough for now. You DID invite the man to enjoy Bali Ha'i for a while, and he'd probably like the chance to be getting on with that in peace. Lu-sensei would also doubtlessly appreciate the chance to speak with the Grandmaster as something other than your mouthpiece, and you do have a few other meetings to attend to, besides.
Thanking Wen for his advice and that... fascinating story, you excuse yourself.
There are a couple of things you wanted to discuss with Kahine, so you go looking for the volcano-spirit. At the same time, since one of the topics on your mind involves Navi and her kids, you send Briar off to find her mother and bring Navi along - or at least get in touch with you and Kahine magically.
While Briar zips off towards the forest, you head over to the cooking area, where Kahine has been spending a fair bit of time helping out and socializing with Shaman Keoni and his fellows. You're not sure if she's there right now, but if she isn't, the islander spirits can probably point you in her direction.
As it happens, Kahine is not among the cooks, who instead direct you back up the beach, past the little chain of rocks where you chatted with Lu Tze before he summoned Master Wen, and along the inner shore of the lagoon until you reach the mouth of the river where the canoeing phase of the Great Island Triathlon was held. Unlike with the rocks, there's no way to cross the river without getting your feet wet, short of resorting to magic - nor any challenge to be had in doing so - and so you simply remove your shoes and socks, tuck them in your pocket, roll up your pant-legs, and then wade across the riverbed. It's not as deep as the surf around the stones was, and the effects of the tide are minimal, so you make it across with nothing worse than wet calves and muddy feet.
While shaking off the worst of the water and mud, you look around. Visually, there's little to distinguish this side of the river from the other, but there is a good reason why you chose to hold your party away from this place: there used to be a village here, one that survived on a mix of farming, fishing in the lagoon, and hunting and gathering from the nearby forest, using the river to carry their kills downstream. The houses and other buildings that used to stand here decayed away long ago, while the communal fields and household gardens grew wild, and the livestock either died out or went feral.
The place isn't haunted or anything, but its spiritual energies are even stronger than the already high local background levels, and might not have reacted well to the powerful and/or dark auras of some of your guests, your own use of benign necromancy to assemble a temporary workforce, or all the magic in general that went into this party. Hence why you set up on the opposite shore.
You know that Shaman Keoni and his helpers have been through here a few times, searching the overgrown gardens for vegetables, and you're quite certain your head chef came straight here after declaring his Island Curry Challenge to Master Wen, in order to stock up on the necessary herbs and spices. There's no sign of his presence now, though.
Kahine, on the other hand, is easy to spot, even if she is keeping her volcanic aura down to a molten simmer. Her avatar is sitting on a large stone some distance from the riverbank, her back to the water and her gaze upon the low-laying scrubs that mark the edge of the former settlement.
"Hey, there, Little Magic Man," she greets you, glancing over her shoulder at you. She grins. "Have you come to spy on Keoni, to see what you and your many-times-great-grandmaster are in for at lunch?"
You are not surprised that she, who is more or less the spirit of Bali Ha'i itself, would be aware of Wen's arrival or his relationship to you and Lu Tze. That she knows about the Curry Challenge is a bit of a surprise, unless of course she talked to the shaman.
"Actually, ma'am, I came to speak with you about a couple of things."
"Oh? Well, then." Kahine turns around on her seat, and gestures for you to start.
You explain about the arrival of the last batch of Memorians, and their request to hunt some of the boars for themselves.
Kahine hums as she considers that, and you sense her aura reaching out and inland.
A moment later, she nods. "The pigs could stand a little more culling. As long as the soldier-boys limit themselves to twenty kills or less, that should be just fine."
You nod, and remind yourself to check in with the Memorians after this.
"And the other thing?" Kahine inquires.
"That was something that needs Navi's input, too. I asked Briar to go find her-"
You send a quick, inquisitive pulse down the familiar bond.
The response is negative, tinged with a kind of annoyed resignation that doesn't feel like it's directed at you.
"-but from the feel of things, they may be running a bit late."
You look at Kahine. "Do you mind if we give Navi a few minutes, ma'am?"
"No stone off my cone," she replies with a shrug.
It takes you a second to parse that particular alliterative idiom as a positive response.
"Right. Well, I'm just going to send a quick Message to the Memorians, to let them know you gave them permission to hunt."
"Fine by me," Kahine replies, "but try not to use too much magic, okay?" Her head inclines in the direction of the scrubs and the relatively thin part of the forest beyond. "This is a special place. I like to keep it undisturbed."
"Duly noted, ma'am. Would casting from the river be alright?"
"That would be more than enough distance."
With that clarified, you head back down the riverbank, and cast the Spell to Send a Message. The normal version wouldn't reach any of the Memorians, wherever they are, so you shave down the duration from an entirely unneeded several hours to a more reasonable length of about eighty seconds. Plenty of time, as long as you keep things brief. The mana this frees up goes into extending the range, in a manner similar to the much more powerful Spell of Sending, though you're lacking a few elements of that spell.
The design work done, you cast the spell, picturing the member of this morning's incoming batch of Memorians who acted like he was the most senior member of the group. To him, you send the Message that you've conveyed his cohort's request to extend the Great Island Boar Hunt to Kahine, and that she's given them the okay, as long as they keep the kill count below a certain level.
You then wait a bit for the magic to do its work.
...
After the second minute goes by with no response, you frown. Even with the range limit opened up, there were still a couple of potential points of failure in that spell. The more likely of those is that your intended target is inside the Magnificent Mansion you set up for the Memorians' use, and that the door is closed, putting the entire space out of reach of this low-level spell, regardless of its newly-expanded range. The other possibility is that you failed to successfully adapt the Message Spell's rather limited method of target-selection - namely, pointing out the intended recipients as the spell is cast - to something a bit more freeform.
You don't think it's the latter. You called all of the Memorians here, after all; that should give you enough of a connection for spells like this to be able to find them, even if - now that you stop and think about it - you can't remember the name of the ghost that appeared to be the officer in charge of this batch.
Just to be sure, you cast the spell a second time, reaching out to any and all Memorians that might hear you.
...
Still no response.
Good grief. Are they ALL drinking, already? It's not that much past nine o'clock!
Hey, give the ghosts a break. They haven't had anything to drink in a thousand years.
...maybe it's later in the day, back in Faerie?
Not THAT much later.
In any case, between Kahine's request for you to "keep it down," the reduced state of your reserves, and a simple sense of proportion, you don't feel like breaking out the Spell of Sending for this. Especially not with the ten-minute casting time required. You could run down the beach, deliver the message in person, and be back again in that time, without even pushing yourself physically.
Shaking your head, you turn back to Kahine-
!
-and pause as the familiar bond tingles with a mix of success, that aimed-at-another annoyance, and the feeling of Briar's presence drawing closer.
Looks like whatever was holding Navi up has been resolved.
You wonder how many of the little fairies were involved in it.
As you walk back to Kahine, the idea occurs to you to use this opportunity to hone your Environmental and Spiritual Adaptation skills, but after a moment's thought, you realize that this might not be the best idea. You were planning to ask Kahine's permission before trying this, given the proximity of the overgrown ruins, but leaving aside whatever the volcano spirit might have to say on the subject, Master Wen just got done telling you not to mess around with elemental affinities. Both of those techniques affect how you interact with the elements, and while Environmental Adaptation's effects are normally purely physical in nature, there's enough spiritual energy floating around in Bali Ha'i's environment that you are a little leery of testing your skill or Wen's patience.
You'd really rather not find out what the Grandmaster's version of Enlightenment feels like, this soon into your association.
Making a mental note to speak with Wen about those two skills at some point in the near future - and the rest of your spiritual and ki abilities, while you're at it - you rejoin the volcano spirit and let her know that the fairies are incoming.
Briar zips into view a minute later.
"Sorry for the wait!" your partner calls, as she flies into earshot. "Mom wasn't hard to find, but she had a bit of a mess on her hands. It's all taken care of now, though."
Do you even want to know?
A part of you doesn't really want to know what the little fairies got up to that not only needed Navi's involvement to resolve, but actually kept her busy for a few minutes.
The rest of you recognizes that trying to turn a blind eye to the antics of Fae of any sort, even the smallest and friendliest, is a good way to get bitten by them - sometimes even literally. And since you were planning to talk about the possibility of setting up a population of fairies on Bali Ha'i, whatever Briar's siblings got up to is likely to have bearing on Navi and Kahine's opinions, and also to blow up in your face sooner rather than later.
Much like mortal law, when it comes to fairy shenanigans, ignorance is no excuse.
With a sigh, you ask your partner what happened.
"Okay, so it turns out, there are sundews on the island-"
You frown. "And what are those?"
"Carnivorous plants with sticky tentacles," Briar sums up.
Oh, THAT'S not at all concerning.
Perhaps it's your inherited Hyrulean instincts that have you asking her to clarify how big these plants get.
"Relax, Alex; they're not Baba, Leever, or Peahat-sized. The only things these plants are really a threat to are insects."
"And insect-sized fairies?" you guess.
"It would have to be a pretty dumb fairy, but yeah. See, the way these things hunt is by producing a sweet-smelling sticky sap, and when the bugs land and get stuck, the tentacle curls around them and just covers them in the stuff. Anyway, the plants don't kill by crushing their prey, they just hold it till it dies of exhaustion or drowns in the sap. Insects that small don't breathe through the mouth, but through these little blowholes located in various places along the body, so the more tangled and covered in sap they are, the easier they drown. For a fairy to die that way, they'd have to get stuck head-first, which is... unlikely."
She doesn't say it's impossible, though.
Kahine frowns. "What happens when the plant starts to digest its catch?"
"The juices they produce for that aren't particularly strong; it can take them weeks to digest one meal. Even a really young fairy has enough magic to defend against something that acts that slowly, at least for a while. The bigger risk is that they'll be stuck there long enough for a carnivorous animal of some sort to come along, or until they starve - and that's not much of a risk for my family," Briar adds with a note of pride, "because there are sundews in Hyrule, too, and Mom made sure we all knew what they looked like and how to deal with them."
Gained Herbalism E (Plus)
"So what went wrong?" you venture.
Briar sighs. "Well, since the plants aren't 'dangerous' to us, some of the little idiots decided that made them fair game for dares and pranks."
She describes a game called "Can't Catch Me," wherein the challenge is to touch a sundew and pull away before it grabs you. When it's one-on-one, the rule is that the first fairy to get caught is the loser, but when groups of them play, they start keeping score: staying in contact with the plant longer than any of your opponents or touching it with an entire hand rather than just one finger are worth more points; getting snagged wipes out all your points, unless you manage to wrestle free, in which case it can be treated as a timed penalty, or a bonus; and so on.
At this point, you can kind of guess where Briar's story is going, so you aren't really surprised when she tells you that ALL the little fairies got together for a big game of Can't Catch Me, and started daring each other to greater and greater heights of foolishness, until the majority of them were tangled in sundews and slathered with sap.
"Which isn't any better for the PLANTS than it was for them," Briar adds, with a certain sympathy for the poor innocent carnivorous flowers that got taken advantage of by her younger siblings. "The good news is, Mom and Summer are both old hands at noticing when the little pests are being Dumb, particularly when there's that many of them doing it, so they showed up in time to keep things from getting completely out of hand."
"And now they're all grounded," Navi says firmly, as she walks into view. "Quite literally, in fact, until the sap caught in their wings comes off."
You can't honestly say that Briar's younger siblings didn't have some kind of punishment coming, both for taking foolish and unnecessary risks, and for whatever damage their game would have done to the plants. Having their wings left gummed up so that they can't fly is a harsher solution than you might have expected Navi to go with, but if there's at least one of her older kids around to watch over the little ones until they've recovered, it should be safe enough.
"I suppose that's one way to make the lesson stick," you muse.
Briar groans. "Alex..."
"At least until they can fly again," Navi agrees. "Most of them will forget about it right after that, of course, but two or three might get a glue."
Briar moans. "You too, Mom?"
"And what about the plants?" Kahine inquires with a frown.
"I healed the damage that had been done, and gave them and the soil around them a boost, to offset the energy they'd been forced to waste," Navi says more seriously.
"...no feeding them flies?"
"No," Navi says firmly, with a chiming flutter of her glittering, insect-like wings. "I haven't forgotten what it's like to be tiny and have half the world out to eat you, and most of the rest big enough to crush you just by accident."
Fair enough.
Though you do have to wonder what her stance is regarding giant insects. Non-demonic ones, that is; you're quite sure that you know how Navi would respond if faced with a Tektite or one of Hyrule's other monster bugs.
"Now, then," the Great Fairy says, changing topics. "What was it you wanted to discuss, Alex?"
You recount your earlier brainstorm about the possibility of having some of Navi's kids relocate to Bali Ha'i on a more permanent basis, or even of setting up a Fairy Fountain here.
Navi's response is slow. "That is..."
"If I may," Kahine interrupts, one hand half-raised and confusion clear on her face. When Navi gestures for her to continue, she asks, "What is a 'Fairy Fountain?'"
"It's a spring of particular physical and spiritual purity, where fairies like to gather," Briar explains for the volcano spirit. "Most of the ones in Hyrule had fancy stonework built up around them by the big folks, but that was one-part being good neighbors, one-part protecting a valuable resource, and one-part worship. None of it's really necessary."
"I see." Kahine takes a minute to consider what she has been told. "Well, although water is not my personal area of expertise, I know that there are several springs on the island. Whether they are pure enough for such a purpose, I cannot say, but I DO know that a few are watched over by other spirits."
"We would have to investigate those springs and speak with their guardians, then," Navi says. "But before even that, there is another matter: whether or not there are any portals to Faerie on this island."
Ah.
You join the two Fae in looking to Kahine - who shakes her head.
"The Spirit Realm is fairly close to Bali Ha'i, and always has been, but I am aware of no portals to it or any of the other worlds beyond this one. I also have no recollection of beings like yourselves or the big man with the removable head ever setting foot on these shores before the Little Magic Man, here, invited you all over."
"Not all Fae look like we do," Briar informs her. "What about walking plants or shapeshifting animal-people?"
"Aside from the Water Tribe visitors, you mean?"
"Aside from them, yes."
"Then no, I am afraid not."
"...non-native elementals?"
"Sorry."
Well, that is a bit of a snag for your plan. With the way Briar got cut off from home for a few decades, you can't see her or her mother being remotely keen on leaving a batch of the smaller fairies in similar circumstances, even on an island as lovely as this. Navi can't exactly hang around to open Gates, and even if one or more of her older kids were willing to take up residence on Bali Ha'i, none of them feel like they're strong enough to cross the planar boundaries.
You're still some time away from being able to do it yourself, and while you expect to have completed your reverse-engineering of the Gate Spell in the next few months, taking time out from your busy schedule to play inter-dimensional taxi driver for a bunch of whimsical little fairies is not something you're personally interested in doing.
Seriously, they're enough of a hassle when all of their older relatives are here to ride herd on them. You don't want to have to deal with a batch of them when it's just you and Briar to lay down the law, especially not if planar travel is involved. Way too many things could go horribly wrong with that kind of arrangement.
Creating a permanent Gate to Faerie is not really a viable approach, either. Assuming for the moment that your skills at item crafting were up to the task - and you're not convinced that they are; planar mechanics are COMPLICATED, and the prospect of setting up something with the ability to track and calculate all the variables on its own is daunting - it would be a terribly expensive and time-consuming project. You could easily see it taking an entire year's worth of work, if not more.
Even leaving that aside, half of the portal device would need to be in Faerie. You don't know anything about what the part of the twilight realm adjacent to Bali Ha'i is like, but recent events with the Reinhardts have pointedly reminded you that even the nice parts of Faerie are not truly safe. No more inherently dangerous than any patch of unspoiled wilderness on Earth, perhaps, but no LESS so, either.
And that's assuming nobody has a claim on that area-
"The Summer Court does," Navi informs you.
-because of course they do. Why wouldn't they? You're in the tropics; with the exception of the higher mountains, this is Summer territory pretty much year-round.
So, you'd have to negotiate with the Summer Court to get permission to build the Gate - and for all that they're the "nice" Fae, they're still Fae. And you can't see any of the Fair Folk allowing you to create a Gate on their territory that they wouldn't be allowed to use. They'd want ACCESS.
An idea springs into your head, fully-formed, and from there to your lips: "What about the Memorian Gate?"
"What about it?" Navi asks.
"And how does a portal to the Spirit World help?" Kahine adds with a puzzled frown.
You quickly explain to the volcano-spirit that the portal in question does not lead to the Spirit World, but rather is a man-made gateway between Earth and Faerie, which the Memorians built well over a thousand years ago in order to allow secure travel to and from a fortified outpost in that realm. You then tell her that you were tasked with finding and restoring the portal's Earth-side element, and have, with help from Altria's family and friends thereof, managed to determine its location. You're just waiting on the weather to clear up enough so that you can go in and start excavating.
Kahine may not fully appreciate exactly how the cold of winter can interfere with a dig, but all those years of watching the islanders deal with "the wet season" gives her enough of a frame of reference to grasp why your efforts have been delayed.
You finish up by stating that leaving the Earth-side portal unattended in an empty ruin in Western Europe wouldn't be ideal, and relocating it to a secure location only sensible. And since Bali Ha'i has already welcomed the Memorians...
"And if it can't be moved for some reason," you add, half-wincing at the thought of interplanar metaphysics, "then a Teleportation Circle between the location of the Earth-side Gate and Bali Ha'i is something else that could work. With your permission, of course. And the Memorians', as well, since we'd be using their stuff."
"Not a bad plan," Navi muses, "but you've left out a few points, Alex."
"Oh?"
"First," the Great Fairy notes, briefly raising her index finger, "the Memorian Outpost is warded against Fae. And strongly enough that the only reason Briar was able to go inside with you before was because of that pseudo-familiar bond you used to have. If you meant for my other kids around her level of growth or younger to use that end of the Gate, you'd have to shut down those wards or move the Gate outside of the base; either way, you'd be exposing it to the locals. And there ARE locals," Navi adds, flashing two fingers, "or had you forgotten about the twigjack?"
The one you owe that "Less-Worthless" Promise to? That'd be a no.
"Good. Now, while everything the twigjack and the Memorians had to say tells us that none of the Greater Fae have a claim on that area, you'd still have to work something out with the Little Folk. Certainly not impossible, but it is another factor that needs to be considered, especially since some of them will probably want to visit Earth as well - even if it's only because they see my kids doing it, and get jealous."
The twigjack DID seem childish enough for a response like that to be a factor, you admit.
Navi nods at that observation. "Which brings up the next point," she adds, waving three fingers. "How long do you suppose it will stay secret that there's an active portal to Earth in that part of Faerie, when there are Hyrulean fairies passing through the region, and the Little Folk are either using the Gate themselves or talking about it? Finally" - and this earns a four-fingered salute - "don't forget that the Memorians are readying themselves to go to their long-overdue REST. They won't be around to secure the base or the Gate in the long term, and they might have reservations about their works being modified for the benefit of any Fae. Even ones they agree are 'okay.'"
...okay, so in hindsight, your brilliant idea to save your plan could use a bit more polish.
Still, it's potentially doable, provided you can get the Memorians and the local wild Fae onboard, and come up with some way to hide the Gate from unwanted attention, secure it against unauthorized users, or both.
You consider the issues that Navi has pointed out with your idea to save the plan to put a Fairy Fountain on Bali Ha'i, and how - or even if - they might be addressed with your current resources.
The matter of reprogramming or deactivating the wards on the Memorian Outpost would be simple enough to deal with - just tell the Memorians what you want to do, and convince them to do it before they go.
Of course, that runs into the matter of whether you could convince them that your idea was a good one, and moreover, if you could do so before they go to their final rest. You think you probably could - your relationship with them is very, very good right now, and they know Briar is your partner, so trusting her family would just be an extension of trusting you. Probably.
The real stumbling blocks in this are the denizens of Faerie, both greater and lesser.
Your only relationship with the Little Folk who reside in the forest near the Memorian Outpost is through a twigjack that only trusted your word because Navi was there to vouch for you. You don't know what that little bundle of twigs and suspicion has said about you to his neighbors in the months since your one and only meeting, if he's said anything at all, but you doubt it was particularly complimentary. Combined with the usual wariness of "big people" among the lesser Fae and the difficulties in getting to and from Faerie, it would make for quite a challenge in just getting them to trust you.
Based on your interactions with fairies - both those related to Briar and those you've met that are native to Earth - you can't see a way to ensure that the Little Folk would keep the secret of an active portal indefinitely, or at least none that don't involve magically-binding vows. And you strongly doubt that they'd go for something like that.
Then there's the prospect of having to deal with the greater Fae when - not if - they became aware of the Gate's presence, which is... unappealing, to say the least.
You've had two indirect encounters with the Winter Court already: three, if you count meeting Celty on Halloween, although she seemed to be working VERY independently of the Courts; and potentially four, depending on where that bag of Faerie gold you handed off to Navi ended up.
You pause at that thought, realizing that the Great Fairy never did get back to you about that. You ask her about it now.
"Oh, that," she sighs in response, wings drooping. "It took some doing, but I was able to trace the origins of the gold. It turns out that it was part of a Fae girl's dowry that was being smuggled through the Outpost. The whole thing ended badly for all parties involved, and there isn't anyone left to give the gold back to."
That tangent aside, four close encounters with the Winter Court in a single year is more than enough for you. Actually getting directly involved with any ACTIVE, title-holding members of the Court is something you could quite happily do without for the entire rest of your life, or at least for another decade or so. If it did happen in relation to your idea, it would completely sink the cost-benefit value of the entire notion.
As such, you're content to let this matter lie for now.
You can always consider revisiting the idea in the future, when you're better prepared to deal with planar physics and Fae politics.
Thanking Navi and Kahine for their patience and input, you excuse yourself, wade back across the river, and hike down the beach, keeping your eyes open for Souta, who you feel you owe a bit of an apology.
The youngest Higurashi isn't at the dining area, and when you make your way down to the row of Mansions to look for him, you take a minute to check in on the Memorians-
Primo pro nummata vini;
ex hac bibunt libertine;
semel bibunt pro captivis,
post haec bibunt ter pro vivis.
-and let them know about Kahine's decision to let them hunt a few boars.
That prompts a round of cheers-
"To the generosity of the Volcano Goddess!" a soldier cries, raising his tankard.
"AYE!" comes the general reply.
-and also more drinking.
You don't stick around for that part.
Neither Souta nor any of the rest of the Higurashi family are in their rooms, and questioning the conjured servants, the summoned islanders, and your other guests turns up a few conflicting possibilities for where the boy might have gone. He seems to have something of a talent for going unnoticed, when he really wants to.
Your inner Gerudo can appreciate that.
The rest of you is less impressed.
