"Three reasons," you reply, holding out the appropriate number of fingers, and then lowering the first. "One, I made a deal with a druid to take up magical gardening in exchange for lessons."

"'Magical' gardening?" the kami asks.

"He wanted to see how well some species from that world adapted to Earth's environment, or if they even could."

"...you're being careful with them, I hope?"

You just nod at that.

"Second," you continue a moment later, counting down with your next finger, "it actually IS possible to cultivate the little monsters, to a point. A bunch of small fairies are actually trying to breed their equivalent of a giant robot out of the things."

"...again, WHY?"

"The argument boils down to, 'Every other intelligent species in the world has made at LEAST one ill-advised magical death machine that ran out of control, so why NOT us?'"

...

"I wish I could say he was wrong," Briar sighs, "but he's not."

"And the third reason?" the kami inquires with a slightly hurried air.

This time, instead of lowering your finger, you point at your partner. "She thinks they're cute when they're small."

"Snappy IS cute," Briar returns. "YOU just have boring taste in plants."

When the "exciting" varieties include things like Diababa, Manhandla, and the other semi-demonic arboreal titans you've seen in your dream-memories, you'll take boring.

Your arrival in Karakura appears to have gone unnoticed, and your passage through the morning traffic is only paid as much attention by those around you as they pay to one another - enough notice to avoid collisions, the occasional nod of fleeting acknowledgement, and so on.

When you stroll up to the doors of Urahara Shoten a few minutes later, you find the security shutters drawn back for the day's business, but nary a customer or employee to be seen or (passively) sensed - at least until you actually enter, and the ring of the bell draws attention from the back.

"One moment, please!" Urahara calls.

You graciously give him a whole minute, spending that looking around at the wares. Nothing in particular catches your eye, beyond the momentary consideration of getting another Magic booster pack, but then Urahara emerges from whatever mad science project had his attention, a broad smile behind his flapping fan and a lazy yet sharp gaze beneath the shadow of his hat.

"My, what a curiously and yet forgettably average unfamiliar face," he declares.

"Do you greet all your new customers this way?" you wonder.

"New ones? Almost hardly ever."

The double qualifier makes it sound like that may happen a fair bit, actually, and now you're wondering just how many potential sources of revenue Urahara chases away, whether it's on purpose or just as a byproduct of his essential and peculiar brilliance.

You also wonder what Tessai must think whenever that happens. For all that he too is an exiled Shinigami researcher, the man's always given the impression that he takes the job of running and maintaining the good order of the store very seriously...

"Return customers who manage to hide their spiritual pressure in such a way that it returns nothing to active probes and yet isn't an attention-grabbing void of the same to passive awareness?" Urahara continues, snapping his fan shut. "That's another story. Welcome back, Alexander. What brings you to our humble shop on this fine morning, or late afternoon from your perspective?"

"Various pieces of business."

"Old business first," he declares. "Come, have a seat while we discuss."

You nod and follow the man to the back of the shop - though not into the room where you've so often ventured for tea and other meetings - grabbing a seat on one of the mats laid out on the elevated part of the hardwood floor. Once settled, you inquire after your oldest outstanding arrangement with the Urahara Shop crew: Jasmine's gigai.

"As agreed, we have one false body, sized for a child of the established age and background, and adjusted to match the general frequency range and intensity of the youki of living vampires, ready and waiting for delivery," the shopkeeper-scientist declares grandly.

Excellent. You'll need to let the Shuzens know about that, and arrange a time for the... "fitting," as it were.


You check with Urahara to make sure he's okay with it-

"By all means."

-shift your Adjustable Polymorph back to your usual appearance to avoid any issues with the sound of your voice raising suspicion, and then get out your Magic Cellphone and dial the Shuzens' number.

*Ring*

...

*Ring*

...

"Shuzen residence," an unfamiliar young-sounding man's voice states.

"Good morning," you say. "This is Alex Harris. Would Mr. or Mrs. Shuzen or Lady Bloodriver be available?"

"They may," comes the professionally guarded answer. "What is the purpose of your call?"

"It concerns a bit of Necromancy they're paying for," you reply. As you're not entirely certain how much the household staff know about what is very definitely a family matter, you feel you probably shouldn't say any more than you have to.

"Please hold," the staff member says.

And so you wait, listening to eerie orchestral music.

"Good morning, Mr. Harris," Issa greets you.

"Good morning, sir. I'm calling to let you know that the false body I arranged for is ready to be delivered. I just need for you and the gentlemen who'll be doing the... fitting... to work out when to go ahead with that."

"...I see."

The three of you work out the details from there. Both Urahara and Tessai very much want to be present to observe the whole process of re-embodying and awakening Jasmine's spirit, and you and Issa both tend to agree that it would be safer to have a pair of experts on hand for the job, rather than loading everything onto just one.

After all, by Kisuke's own admission, no matter how sound the theories they're working with are and how much practice they have with the normal usage of gigai, he and Tessai have never actually DONE this sort of thing with a vampire's soul before.

Also, while all parties involved are eager to see things finished as soon as possible - for various reasons - doing it today isn't really ideal. Urahara tells you that, while the process of having a trained Shinigami enter or exit a gigai has been perfected to the point where it can be done in the field and at a moment's notice, things are going to have to be done much more slowly when working with Jasmine. There's equipment that needs to be moved, readings that need to be taken, and various safety precautions to be set up beforehand - it'll be the work of anywhere from a couple of hours to a full day, and if both of the Shinigami scientist-shopkeepers are going to be out of town, they've got to make arrangements for their two young wards in their absence.

You suggest bringing the pair along, but Urahara says that wouldn't be a good idea.

"You may have noticed that Jinta is kind of a brat," he admits wryly. "Ururu is better-behaved, but she's also very spiritually sensitive. Taking either of them to a house of vampires would really just be asking for problems."

It's an unfortunate delay to your mind, but Issa admits that he'd prefer more than a few hours' notice anyway. He's got a number of people and things to sort out on his end.

Also, it's currently Tuesday, the Fourth of July, here in Japan, and California will catch up in about eight hours. You'd kind of like to be home for the festivities.

As far as doing things later in the week goes, you've got prior commitments on Thursday and Saturday, both of which happen to be in Japan: the former is your follow-up investigation of the bloody mist that's been appearing at one of the properties near the Hakuba Shrine, and how it's tied into the lunar cycle; and the latter is the introduction of the Yoshida family to Lady Akemi. Neither event promises to require all THAT much time or energy, and the Thursday one will need you to be on this side of the ocean after dark locally, which would be fairly early back home. It might be easier for you to make an "overnight" trip to Japan there, helping Urahara and Tessai move their stuff to (and later, out of) the Shuzen estate, and catching a few winks in one of the guest rooms at some point.


Considering what a central role you've played in Jasmine's rescue from her current situation, as well as the fact that you're the one with the spirit-healing magic-

"I'm not unskilled in that field, myself," Urahara admits, "but my FOCUS has always been on research and technological development, rather than caregiving. It makes a difference."

-both Issa and Kisuke are willing to take your suggestions about when to perform the girl's "reincarnation" under advisement.

And when you mention that you've got an appointment with the Hakuba priests to investigate "a side-effect of that sealing business" late that same evening, and would like to request the hospitality of the Shuzens in advance of it due to the time zone difference, Issa promptly says he'll have a room ready and waiting for you, as well as accommodations for Urahara and Tessai, should circumstances require an overnight stay on their part.

Urahara thanks the Shuzen patriarch for that offer without actually answering one way or the other whether he's going to accept it or not, and says that a couple of days is plenty of time for him to get things ready on his end.

With that, you have a date set.

The call with Issa ends shortly thereafter, and you get on to your "new" business.

First up, you let Urahara know how the sorting of the loot from Silbern has been going, naming the items your Shadow and his summons swiped from the fortress, others that he saw the knights grab, and a few that Ambrose or Balthazar have mentioned. You also inform the shopkeeper of the terms of your agreement with the older spellcasters about the division of the spoils, and how that prevents you from giving him access to any of the Quincy-made items or the information therein until all claims have been settled.

Urahara gets it, and as you expected, would indeed be interested in any samples of Quincy spirit-tech or records that you'd be willing to share with him. As ever, his available resources are a bit constrained by the needs of the Shop, its residents, and his and Tessai's ongoing projects - like the false body they just finished for you - but he has no objection whatsoever to acting as a consultant, and paying you (and Ambrose and Balthazar) with his expertise in spiritual matters and related technologies.

Proceeding past the pillaging problem, you pull a couple of items out of your pocket. One, which is one of the "loose" Gratitude Crystals not carried within the Crystallizer itself, gets a curious look from Urahara - but the moment you take out the Haunted Ball, it has his complete attention.

"Alex," the man in the bucket hat says with a cheerfully fake smile, "why do you have a rubber ball with an angry ghost trapped inside of it?"

You proceed to regale him with the Tale of the Trials of Moblin, the World's Best Dog.

Tell it!

When you've finished, Kisuke stares at you for a moment, then at the Ball-

The Poe waves its lantern-soul at him, a gesture that strikes you as strangely non-hostile.

-and then back to you.

"Amaterasu. Gave your dog a BALL. With a GHOST inside it."
Bark!
It's great, isn't it?

...

"...I think I'm going to leave that one for the moment," Urahara decides, turning to the orange, starbust shape which has been sitting innocuously on the floor since you set it down. "Do I dare ask what this one does?"

You explain the makeup of Gratitude Crystals-

"Solidified emotion? Interesting..."

-the creation thereof-

"For doing GOOD DEEDS? That doesn't even happen in Soul Society, what kind of an environment-!"

-and their particular uses, or at least the one you are personally aware of.

"They can REVERSE a DEMONIC TRANSFORMATION?"

And turn a true-born demon INTO a mortal being directly, if the demon in question genuinely desires it.

Urahara makes a sound at that which has Tessai finally showing up, frowning at the noise.

Then Urahara explains himself, and you have TWO Highly Interested Shinigami researchers on your hands. It is safe to say that they would VERY much like an opportunity to examine Gratitude Crystals, and if possible, to observe how they're formed.

For the latter, you tell them to include whatever scanners they think they'll need when packing for the trip to the Shuzens, as you're pretty sure that bringing Akua's dead little sister back to her is going to net you a few of the Crystals. As for the other...

You don't object to the pair taking surface scans of a Gratitude Crystal or the Gratitude Crystallizer; you've done as much yourself, to no ill effect in either case. However, you've always refrained from doing more invasive investigations, especially anything of the sort that would deliberately break down a Gratitude Crystal or damage the item that allows you to gather them.


Perhaps you're getting ahead of yourself by considering committing to giving up a portion of your cut of the Silbern plunder at this time. After all, you don't even know how much your loot is actually worth yet, much less have a full list of the Quincy-made goods that might be up for grabs.

Between that and the fact that it probably would be for the best if Urahara saw the items in question for himself, you ask him if he'd be willing and able to come along when you join your fellow spellcasters to hash out the final ownership of the spoils. Once you have determined WHEN that will be, that is - you're thinking sometime next week, or the week after that at the latest.

There was a LOT of stuff.

Kisuke's expression brightens for a moment, but then turns to a mild frown.

"Just to be clear, will you be handling the travel arrangements?" he inquires.

You find yourself in the back of the Shop, watching as somewhat familiar gadgets are slowly waved over your Gratitude Crystallizer - your currently EMPTY Crystallizer, the scientists having asked you to remove the accumulated Gratitude Crystals so as to avoid tainting their scans.

Five of those Crystals now sit on a tray to one side, glowing softly as they await more in-depth examinations - possibly destructive ones. While Urahara and Tessai aren't the sort to intentionally set out to break a sample to see what it's made of or how it works on the inside, it must be admitted that they're working with a substance they've never encountered before - not in its current state, anyway - and whose properties are a bit of a mystery even to you.

Who can say how a mass of solidified emotion will react to having a probe of spiritual energy projected deep into its core, or if the nature of said energy - coming from a minor divine entity rather than a mortal magic-user with fleeting hints of divine power in his system - won't have its own particular effects?

Given the risks of accidental contamination, damage, or outright destruction of a Gratitude Crystal, you felt it would be best from a scientific point of view for Urahara and Tessai to have plenty of samples to work with.

And who knows? Maybe you'll get some of them back.

Spent 5 Gratitude Crystals

The scene before you reminds you of your interest in getting Urahara to teach you anything in the spiritual sciences - on a more permanent basis than the one-time exchanges of information and co-collaborations you've already engaged in.

"That would be quite an investment on both our parts," the shopkeeper says, his expression serious as he looks up from his readings. "Money, material resources, information, TIME... all things I've had the distinct impression you have considerable demands on already. While the financial angle probably won't be a big deal after you've sorted out your share of the stolen treasure, are you sure you can afford the rest?"

Once the scientists have taken those readings that they can, you reclaim your Gratitude Crystallizer, refill it with your remaining stock of Crystals, and then put it away - and take out the Haunted Ball again in its place.

"While we're back here," you say, "maybe you could take a look at this, as well?"

Urahara eyes the Ball cautiously.

"My word." Tessai bends forward and adjusts his glasses as he peers into in the plastic sphere. "Is that a soul?"

The Poe acknowledges him with another curiously neutral wave of its lantern.

You're starting to wonder if that spook can tell that these two are psychopomps, or if it just thinks they're fellow ghosts possessing bodies. If it were the former, you'd normally expect a lingering spirit like a Poe to be more freaked out at the prospect of meeting a being that could and SHOULD send it on to the next stage in its spiritual journey - but in this instance, perhaps that's what the Poe wants?

You fill the big guy in on the details.

"Lady Amaterasu, you say? I see."
Bark!
"You don't sound as surprised by that as Urahara did," you note with some interest.

The ostensible owner of the store is regarding his employee with an expression similar to your own, colored by a hint of suspicion.

Tessai's moustache quivers, but doesn't quite hide his smirk. "As it happens, in my time with the Kido Corps, I came across some old records of the Sun Goddess's past activities. If those accounts are to be believed, the lady possesses a certain... 'charming quirkiness'."

That's a polite way of saying derpy, isn't it?
*Whine.*
"And you never mentioned this, because...?" Urahara asks leadingly.

Tessai's broad-shouldered shrug reminds you, however briefly, of Hornfels and other Earth Elementals. "It was never relevant to any of our projects - and honestly, Manager, you've never been the most diligent student of history."

Urahara raises one hand dramatically, while holding the other to his chest. "Ah, a hit...!"

Shortly thereafter, the scanners are turned on the Poe.

"Looks like a pretty straightforward spectral binding," Urahara replies. "Also a ward to mask the ghost's presence from casual notice, a filter to prevent or at least slow external contamination... and a reishi circuit."

"A what, now?"

"Spiritual particles are flowing into and out of the Ball at a low but constant rate," the scientist tells you. "It's keeping the interior comfortable, sort of like the difference between an enclosed room on a hot day and an enclosed room with air conditioning on a hot day."

That's... considerate, you suppose?

"And you say your dog won this in a trial by combat?" Urahara asks.

You nod. "I think the goddess may have felt bad that he had to give up the 'ball' he was playing with when he cleared that round..."

You quickly repeat Moblin's encounter with the (unlife-sized) Poe-

"He was using its SOUL as a chew-toy?"

-and how that resolved.

Urahara sighs. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in letting me take a look at your dog?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you about that..."

When would you like to schedule Moblin's "check-up" for?


The frown falls away from Urahara's face, replaced by a beaming smile. "In that case, I would be delighted to attend!"

"...not sure about getting there on your own, huh?" Briar asks.

"Not in a practical span of time, at least," Urahara agrees. "Being out of town for a few hours would be manageable. A couple of days? With preparation ahead of time, and especially with the option to come back straightaway in the case of an emergency... assuming that falls under 'travel arrangements'?"

Well, yes. It would profit you nothing to let misfortune behalf Urahara Shop in the absence of its namesake, when you could simply convey the man home.

"Good, good. But as I was saying, a couple of days' absence, we can cover for - particularly right now, when Soul Society is still on alert for any further developments regarding the Quincy, and a certain someone not only has to be a bit more careful than usual with his plotting, but also has looted materials of his own to distract him. Taking a whole WEEK off to travel, on the other hand, would really be too much even now, and given the horror stories I've heard about modern international travel, I'd just as soon avoid the hassle."

You nod. You haven't travelled by conventional means all that much, but there was QUITE a contrast between the commercial flights that took you to and from the World Tournament, and the private jet the Shuzens arranged for you during Kahlua's ninth birthday.

Speaking of which, you make a mental note to set aside some time on Thursday for post-birthday-related issues, such as Kahlua showing off her favorite new presents, talking about the party, and complaining-without-actually-complaining about your absence from the festivities.

Silver linings: if Issa's tone during your call just now was any indication, nobody managed to sneak into the estate and/or take over the security system again.

Considering how you've been visiting a global hotspot of ghostly activity on and off for a year now, have worked with representatives of at least three afterlives and actually BEEN to two of them, AND still have the conclusion of your dealings with the Memorians coming up, you really don't see how you can pass up an opportunity to expand your knowledge and understanding of spiritual phenomenon.

If anything, you're probably well overdue to cover the matter. Unfortunately, Batreaux and the priests aren't in a position to teach you anything about Earth's spiritual affairs - Madam Lanora's ongoing meetings with priests and philosophers notwithstanding - so it simply hasn't been part of your lessons.

On a similar note, you've had to fight or flee from undead spirits on several occasions now, and as your visits to Karakura show no sign of ending - to say nothing of your luck - it seems almost a given that you'll run into a Hollow at some point. With that in mind, pointers from an expert on what to do and what NOT to do in spiritual combat are a must-have.

Urahara hears you out with an impassive expression, and when your explanation is concluded, he asks, "Not going to ask about learning how to make spiritually-enhanced technology?"

"I am tempted," you admit frankly, "but you weren't wrong about my schedule being jam-packed as it is, especially in the coming year. Maybe when I've finished some of my ongoing projects and fulfilled a couple of my existing obligations, we can discuss it again...?"

"Maybe so," the shopkeeper replies. "I am glad to see you can exercise a little self-control, though. I was half-expecting you to say you'd use one of those pocket planes with altered temporal mechanics to make more time for yourself."

Gained Priority: Urahara-sensei's School of Spirits!

You give a moment's thought to introducing the two Shinigami to the Spell to Awaken the Devoured, to get their thoughts on whether or not that particular magic might be modified into something their peers and other spiritually-empowered individuals, such as the Quincy, might employ against Hollows. In light of everything else the shopkeepers already have to occupy themselves with over the next few days, however, you decide to hold off.

It can at least wait until you bring Moblin around for his check-up. On that note, when is a good date for you?


"Honestly," you admit, "that's exactly what I WOULD have said, if I thought I'd be able to get a demiplane set up like that by the start of my next school year. As it stands, though, it'll be at least a few months longer than that before you can witness my crimes against space and time. A year at the outside."

That's only if you aren't able to find someone with the ability to alter the flow of time on a demiplane and the willingness to do so for hire, who you won't object to retaining for the task for whatever reason. You definitely don't want any demons involved in the process, for a start.

In the long run, you're definitely going to be learning how to do the job yourself - or having your Shadow do it, provided his quasi-real nature doesn't interfere with his ability to use the Spell to Create a Demiplane in some fashion - as it would simply be less costly than constantly relying on hired help.

...

"I probably can't talk you out of that plan, can I?" Urahara realizes.

Probably not, no. The utility and luxury of a private realm where you can adjust the environment, even up to the flow of time, to suit yourself, is simply too good an advantage for you to pass up.

"Just... don't break the continuum," the shopkeeper sighs. "Please."

Well, of course not. You live there.

Also, Nayru would not be impressed.

I would not, at that.

Not unless he messed up in a new and REALLY interesting way, right?

Don't encourage him...

Urahara and Tessai have no real problem with penning you in for an appointment on Friday morning, at about the same time as today's visit. They don't anticipate that examining your dog for spiritual enhancements and alterations should take more than an hour or two, and if it does run a bit longer than that, it's summertime: the sun's still up until a bit after eight in the evening, California time, giving you until noon-ish by Karakura time to finish up and be back Stateside; and if Moblin's "checkup" runs longer than THAT, you expect that you'll have more pressing concerns than about where you're going to sleep for the night.

Worse comes to worst on that front, you can always call up a Magnificent Mansion, close the door behind you, and pass a night in luxury, even in the middle of nowhere.

Some people would call that cheating.

You call it one of the perks of being a magic-user with access to spells of the seventh circle.

In any case, your visit has given Urahara and Tessai plenty to occupy themselves with for the rest of the day - and the next few days besides - and it IS getting on towards suppertime back in Sunnydale, so you thank the retail researchers for their time, shift back to your anonymous Japanese businessman's guise, and see yourself out.

Is there anything else you feel like doing while you're here in Karakura? Or in greater Japan, come to that? If you're willing to miss dinner, you could spare a few more hours to attend to... whatever comes to mind.


You wander the morning streets of Karakura for a time, until you've put a reasonable distance between yourself and the homes-slash-workplaces of the locals that you're on friendly terms with. Then, sensing no Shinigami, Hollow, or Quincy energy signatures anywhere nearby, you duck down a side street and complete the Spell of Teleportation you'd been working on as you walked about, returning to California.

You get home just as dinner is being served.

"By the way," you note over the meal, "Moblin has a checkup on the eighth."

"What?"

"He does?"

Moblin looks up from his bowl and wags his tail, clearly recognizing his name, if not the other human noises surrounding it.

Explaining goes over well enough with your parents.

Zelda tells Moblin to "be brave!" and gets down from her chair to give him a big hug.

He yelps in protest, partly because it's one of the terrifying Zelda Hugs, and partly because it's been explained to him that dinner time is not time for hugs or other displays of affection, and he doesn't want to get into trouble.

Moblin probably doesn't want Zelda to get into trouble, either, although that can vary with the day, how much of her energy and attention he's had to endure, and what forms it took.

Regardless, after helping with the post-meal clean up duties, grabbing a shower, and taking a little more time to let your dinner settle, you head downstairs to your workshop, chase Zelda out-

"Awww."

-and start looking over your available reagents and funds. While you're due a major windfall in the coming days - and for some months to follow, if you've understood Ambrose and Balthazar correctly, perhaps even a year or two depending on how well your plunder sells - and although a sizeable portion of said income will be going towards either an upgrade of your current workshop or the construction of an entirely new and superior one, you do still have a few projects that need finishing before then.

One of these is to make an enchanted martial arts uniform for Zelda's birthday, coming up in August. Another is that floating, imperceptible comfy chair you promised Briar a while back, and just haven't gotten around to for various reasons, including but not limited to Quincy business.

For the former, you're thinking that a basic enchantment like the one you put on your reverse-birthday present to Ichigo would be reasonable, making the outfit - and its wearer - a touch more resistant to the wear and tear and sweat and grime that accompany exercise in general and sparring in particular. Too much more than that might interfere with Zelda's ability to genuinely learn the martial arts, which is something you wouldn't mess with even without the threat of Lu-sensei's disapproval. If you want to make the thing "shiny," you can use magic to personalize the style of the training gear in a way that looks mundane, just fancy. Maybe put some fairies on it?

As to Briar's chair, the question has to be asked: how much mobility do you really want to give it? If it's just going to be something for Briar to use around the house, then a simple levitation-based effect would be plenty, but if you were serious about your partner riding the thing while she follows you around, instead of perching on your shoulder or head as she normally does, then the power of proper flight is a must. Likewise, while imperceptibility is all well and good for something meant to be used in public, a COMBAT-worthy flying chair probably deserves a Spell of Nondetection and some sort of protection against more physical threats, like its own Spell of Mage Armor or Shielding.

You spend most of the evening in the basement. While a good part of that is used to sort out the designs of your intended gifts, you don't do any actual work on them; you've got another project already underway, in the form of that Circle of Mortal Summoning you promised to craft for Vira, the Mistress of the Dark-

HAIL!

-and even if there weren't lessons in potion-brewing and a supply thereof at stake, you still wouldn't want to default on an arrangement with a half-Vire Fae if you could avoid it. And you can, so you do.

Or don't, as the case may be.

You pause after a few hours to take a break and to say goodnight to Zelda, and then are back at work until somewhere between ten-thirty and eleven o'clock. Closing up the workshop for the night, you quietly head upstairs, brush your teeth, change into your pajamas, and spend the last hour and change of the day poring over your copy of Magic of the Smithy. Your reading got interrupted by dealing with the Wandenreich, and you're annoyed to find that not only did you lose your place, but your memory of what you read has also faded to the point where you have to go back and start over from the beginning.

Not that the book is badly written or anything, you're just kind of irritated at the wasted time.

You only get a couple of chapters in before calling it a night.

When the sun rises on the Fourth of July the following morning, it finds you already up, morning exercises done and breakfast about halfway finished...


Whether in terms of magical enhancements or simple physical style, no better ideas than the ones you'd already had spring to mind for the design of your sister's birthday present. A ward of Resistance, a ward to conceal the fact that it's magical, and some purely aesthetic improvements - that's two or perhaps three days' worth of work, if you buckle down and get it all done as quickly as possible.

And considering it's for Zelda, you almost certainly will.

When it comes to Briar's chair, meanwhile...

...you may have gone a little overboard with the design, and/or taken too many prompts from comic book supervillains and their Thrones of Doom. Maybe. Possibly.

Even so, you think you can get this one finished in ten days of dedicated crafting effort. Of course, if you tried to disappear into your workshop for eight hours a day, every day, for a ten-day period, there would be a lot of familial protest - not the least from Briar, who you'd kind of like to surprise with her big gift if you can manage it - so you're probably looking at something more like two or three weeks' worth of effort.

Still, you think you might be able to pull that off by the end of summer, provided your overseas trip with Lu-sensei doesn't run too long, the Wandenreich don't stumble across any of the Quincy you aided - or you personally - and you don't get distracted by any random events.

What are the odds of THAT, I wonder.

You feel good about your chances!

Well...

It's with a positive mental attitude that you resume your work on the Circle of Mortal Summoning - and by the next morning, that attitude hasn't completely faded, though it did take a hit when you found that you needed to re-read your book last night.

But once you've finished breakfast and dressed for the day, a full belly and the prospect of a Fourth of July celebration does much to restore your spirits... to a point.

During last year's Independence Day, you and Larry discovered that at least some of the demons of Sunnydale are directly involved in setting up for the town's celebration of the event. This understandably dampened your usual enthusiasm for a holiday, and led to the two of you and your families staying home rather than attending the big party downtown.

The thing is, at the time, you were fairly tempted to attend the festivities anyway, to see what if anything Sunnydale's more patriotic demons got up to, and only really bowed out as a show of solidarity with your much more uncertain bud and some concerns about your family's well-being. But you kept an eye on things in the aftermath, and did some checking of historical records for previous years besides, and as far as you were able to determine? Sunnydale's Fourth of July parties seem a fair bit less dangerous to the human attendees than other nighttime events at other times of the year. Certainly, the afternoon and early evening events don't appear to have ever had any casualties associated with them, outside of a few anomalous years - and based on your read of the records and some Divination Magic, those may well have been legitimate accidents.

The long and short of it is this: do you want to attend the festival, or not?


While you didn't exactly have a bad Independence Day last year, there is something about experiencing a festival and fireworks in person that home barbecue and watching celebrations on TV just can't compare to. Even your use of magic to put on an indoor show didn't really capture the full feeling of the event, though it was amazing for the rest of the family in a different way, and enjoyable for you on that account.

Bowing out of last year's festivities after learning about the demonic involvement in Sunnydale's celebration of the Fourth was a sensible precaution, given the timing of your discovery, but between the growth of your abilities in the months since then and your subsequent research having turned up no real history of deaths associated with the events in question, you feel that going out to party with the rest of the town wouldn't be a bad idea after all.

Once your parents are up - and have had their morning coffee - you try to sell them on the idea before Zelda rouses herself.

Your father was actively disappointed to have to miss out on last year's celebration, so you aren't surprised to see him visibly leaning towards the idea of taking part, even though he now knows that demons are and probably always have been involved in Independence Days past. Being told of the lack of a recurring fatality rate just shifts him further in the direction he was already inclined to go.

That information soothes your mother's concerns as well, though it also leaves her looking vaguely baffled.

"...it's the idea of patriotic demons that's bugging you, isn't it, Mom?"

"Yes," she admits.

There's something to be said about safety in numbers - as well as sharing good times with your friends - and so, over the course of the morning, you call up your closest acquaintances in Sunnydale to see what sort of plans they have for the day.

Your first call - via your Magic Cellphone, as your parents are using the landline to get in touch with the extended family and THEIR friends - is to Cordy, who was already planning on going.

"It's the last big thing that happens in town all summer," she says, her tone lacking the implication of an unspoken "duh" that she'd use for most other people who asked her a silly question. "If I'm going to be in town, of course I'm going to be there."

Her parents will also be there, but honestly, you're not all that interested in them, and Cordelia would be happier to have someone else to hang out with while they're doing their thing.

The Madisons were also planning on attending. Amy mentions in passing that she wants to try to introduce you to some pretty nice demons and other supernatural folks she met at the flea market, if she sees them.

Larry surprises you when you call him, admitting that he'd been planning to go to the afternoon events at least.

"It can't be any worse than that Halloween party in Japan, right?" he adds, which quickly explains his increased confidence.

Being told that you, your family, and the girls and THEIR folks are all planning on making a full day of things just settles young Mr. Blaisdell's determination to attend all the events himself. He says he'll get in touch with his grandmother and let her know what's going on, and that you should call him again in a bit.

When you call the dojo, Lu-sensei is not too surprised by the information you pass on about the lack of Independence Day deaths, and is glad to hear that you aren't letting your healthy caution around potential demonic threats tilt over into full-blown paranoia. He was already planning on attending part of the afternoon events and then retiring to watch the fireworks from his rooftop garden.

Checking in with Larry again, he informs you that his grandmother will be helping with the fireworks again this year, so she'll be unavailable for at least part of the afternoon-slash-evening event, but you can expect to see her around at some point.

Talk about safety in numbers, huh?

On that note, is there anybody else - say, persons of a more mystical nature - that you feel like inviting?


"If it helps, some of them were probably around in 1775..."

"...so the whole Revolution would still be in living memory for them." Or maybe not 'living', exactly, corpse-demons being a thing and all, but close enough for the terms of this conversation. "And even if there aren't any demons that old in Sunnydale, I'd be willing to bet that some of the locals HAVE met others that were in the right age range."

Your mother considers that.

"While that does help it make more sense," she admits slowly, "it also doesn't really make me feel any better."

...well, no, it really shouldn't.

As violent as they and their lifestyles tend to be, demons and their part-mortal spawn don't usually live to BE old without being tougher, stronger, smarter, more skilled, or just plain luckier than the rest of their lot. Likewise, it's not uncommon for them to get more powerful as they age.

Being dismayed, then, is a perfectly natural and even healthy reaction to the prospect of old demons being in town.

You could wish it was less depressing, though...

You have your doubts about how well you'll get along with "pretty nice demons," but you suppose if Amy met them at the flea market, doing actual business with human customers for cash and/or trade in ordinary goods, with no funny business about curses-

You take a moment to confirm that.

"I paid in cash," Amy says confidently.

There is a beat.

"...and the part about curses?" you ask slowly.

"There is a story there, which should probably be told in person," she sighs. "Mom can back me up about what happened, though."

You are starting to have concerns.

-then maybe they won't be any worse than dealing with monsters? Aside from the Hellmouth taint, that is. And the inherent corruption.

...

You may want to do an extra purification before bed tonight. Just in case.

You quickly descend into your DREAD WORKSHOP, open up your Mirror Hideaway, and go through to call your DARK MASTER and present him with your invitation - OF DOOM!

"OOOOHHHH!" Batreaux replies. "A festival, you say? Attended by humans AND demons, united in celebration of a nation's birth? With FIREWORKS? I would be DELIGHTED to attend such a gathering, my student! ...what time is it, exactly?"

You quickly sort out the travel arrangements, and Batreaux ducks back to the divine realm to make some preparations.

"It's getting on past midday where I am, and I would so HATE to sleep through any of the FUN!" he says excitedly. "Fortunately, I can simply KNOCK MYSELF OUT to take a restful nap!"

...okay.

There's safety in numbers, but there's even more safety in having a third sorcerer with access to ninth circle spells on hand.

Besides, you ARE planning a day on town with the family, and you HAVE had that discussion about your Shadow counting as a member of the family already.

Zelda would probably insist.

You'll call him out later.


After the matter of invitations is fully sorted out, you spend the remaining hours of the morning in your workshop, before calling a halt to join your family for lunch. With the impending prospect of festival food, the meal is lighter than usual - and dare you say it, consists of somewhat healthier fare besides - and the atmosphere matches, with Zelda all but bouncing out of her chair in anticipation of the fun and games to be had.

You let your parents know that you've asked Batreaux along, and plan to summon your Shadow besides. They're a little surprised by the news, but having met your tutor before, when you explain his particular EAGERNESS to experience the festivities, they nod in understanding.

As for your Dark Self...

"Will he be in disguise?" Zelda wonders.

"Yes," you say firmly. You don't want to deal with even the possibility of people in town thinking that you have a doppelganger of some sort wandering around, let alone that you might legitimately be able to be in two places at once.

"What kind of disguise?" your sister presses, interested.

Once you've eaten, you head upstairs to brush your teeth, shower, and change into a fresh set of clothes, and then return to the basement to summon your most exotic guests.

*Poof*

"I AM PREPARED!" Batreaux declares, as he manifests wearing... pretty normal clothes, actually. Light brown pants, a light, long-sleeved white shirt that just misses being a dress shirt by the lack of cuffs and buttons thereupon, and a light purple jacket. He also has sunglasses and a hat.

You call up your Shadow a moment later, and he assumes his disguise.

Not too long after that, your family heads out.

Sunnydale is small enough, and the day's traffic promises to be busy enough, that your family can and will be walking for the day's events. The first of those will be the Mayor's opening speech, followed by the parade: a marching band; a selection of police, firemen, and personnel from the local Army base; riders from the Equestrian Club (usually dressed up Revolutionary style); marching members of various other local clubs and organizations; and a few floats put together or rented by local interests, all to the day's theme.

Do you have a preferred location from which to watch the parade?


Zelda's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Really."

"Really really?"

"Really really." You pause, and then clarify. "If you guess right, I'll owe you one small favor of your choice - BUT." You raise your index finger for emphasis. "That favor can't be to make a magic item-"

"Awww."

"-and you have to convince me that it's a GOOD idea."

You want her to get some practice learning how to haggle for the best price in a deal, which isn't the same thing as normal arguing-

Zelda regards you suspiciously. "...you're just gonna say 'no' if I ask for anything neat, aren't you?"

You know EXACTLY how your Shadow should be disguised for this outing, and his partner, too.

The Heart of Courage activates, the Dark Selves-

*Poof*

-into existence, and you find yourself on the receiving end of a stubborn glare.

"Seriously?" Shadow Alex demands. "WALDO?"

"It makes perfect sense!" you reply. "She'll be trying to pick you out of a crowd!"

"And wearing red and white stripes will just make that easier!"

"...I mean, she IS only almost four..."

"...okay, yes, fair." Shadow Alex sighs. "But he just looks so silly..."

Shadow Briar, meanwhile, has no objections to taking on the appearance of Carmen Sandiego, though she does insist on wearing a red sundress rather than the thief's iconic red trenchcoat. Given the temperatures the day's forecast was calling for, it's an entirely acceptable change.

Carmen's usual red hat is just fine, though.

Given that the two Shadows will be out mingling with a crowd for hours, you need to use a polymorphing spell to disguise them, rather than Illusion Magic, and while you have gotten fond of the Spell of the Adjustable Polymorph of late, extending its duration to the point of usefulness would raise it to the level of a sixth-circle spell. Seventh, if you want Shadow Alex to cast it on himself and his partner both at once. Even with the Spell of Mind Blank up and running, you are a little concerned about drawing in supernatural shenanigans by having the doppelgangers expressing too much power, which inclines you towards an extended Spell to Alter One's Self.

The summoned guests wait behind in your basement for a few minutes while you and your mundane family leave the house, and then a few minutes longer so that you're well out of sight by the time they leave the house.

Even though you tell this to Zelda, you still see her looking over her shoulder several times, trying to catch sight of her targets.

Sorry, little sister, but it's not going to be THAT easy.

While making calls earlier, it struck you that Lu-sensei's rooftop garden offered an excellent vantage point from which to watch the opening parade. It's even close enough to City Hall that you might be able to hear the Mayor's speech, though only because there will be speakers set up for that and there'll be no traffic - and even then, you might miss parts depending on the wind and the noise of the crowd.

Granted, the knowledge that Mayor Wilkins is an old, powerful, and successful warlock does make you somewhat less interested in listening to him, but the man DOES have a reputation for giving good speeches - and who knows? Maybe he'll let something useful slip? Or at least something interesting?

Of course, if you're going to improve your ability to hear the Mayor's speech, it would only be polite to offer the same spell to your family, your teacher, and those of your friends that meet you there - though the Madisons can probably handle themselves, and Cordelia's folks aren't likely to join her, if they let her meet up with you that early in the first place. Still, that's enough people that you might draw attention with the amount of magic that would need to be thrown around; perhaps a better use would be to enhance your own hearing, and then use Illusion Magic to "repeat" what you hear for everyone else.

...or you suppose you could just repeat everything verbally. You know, if you wanted to be vaguely NORMAL.


"Define 'neat'."

"You know, neat!" Zelda says. "Like... big an' impressive, or small an' flashy-"

"Thank you," Briar notes.

"-or whooooaaaa!" Your sister waves her hands expressively at that. "Or even just a 'huh, I didn't know that. Neat!' That kind of thing!"

"...well," you say, "'big and impressive' will probably have to be ruled out, because other people would probably notice, and I do have to try and keep my magic a secret-"

"See?"

"-but the others sound like they'd be fine."

Zelda eyes you critically. "Promise?"

You raise one hand in solemn oath, and don't even cross your fingers behind your back. "Promise."

...

"Then Detective Zelda is on the case!"

The Case of the Sneaky Shadows?

"Oooh, that's a good one."

One spell, two targets, and multiple options available against future need makes Adjustable Polymorph pretty much ideal. Granted, to make sure that it lasts all afternoon and through the evening - as opposed to needing to be re-cast every three hours or so - your Shadow needs to boot it up to eighth-circle, but luckily enough, that is just within your mutual reach.

If Shadow Briar didn't count as a familiar, it'd be another story, but since she does, your duplicate is able to avoid resorting to a power enhancement via ritual, which wouldn't be possible due to needing to use a ritual to cast the spell in the first place.

"Excuse us."

With a parade in the offing, it's only natural that there would be a fair-sized crowd spread out along the route.

"Pardon me."

Most of the audience are standing, while a few early and well-prepared arrivals have found seats, be it on chairs they brought along, in the back of pickup trucks parked with their cabs away from the main street, or on one of the town's public benches.

"Coming thro- oh, hey! Nice to see you."

And then of course, there are people doing much as you've planned to, taking advantage of second- and third-story windows, balconies, or rooftop access to watch the event from above, while enjoying access to the comforts of (someone's) home, or at least air conditioning.

"Great day for a parade, isn't it?"

Even with Sunnydale's population somewhat reduced by the number of people who've already skipped town for the summer, there are still more than enough residents in town for the majority of the crowd to be human, or at least mostly so. But as you lead the way to the School of the Five Elements Dojo, you can't help but notice the many inhuman signatures that are also present. Demonic auras are by far the most numerous, ranging from the comparatively minor taint of mortal magic-users who haven't been thorough enough with their cleansing rituals, to the more... natural feel of those who have had such essence within themselves since they were born.

If there's three hundred people within range of your passive senses, you'd venture that perhaps a fifth of them are demons. And these are just the ones that are capable of concealing their nature in public, while also not being bothered at being out on a sunny day and in the company of so many humans.

It's telling that, even in the aggregate, this slice of Sunnydale's supernatural side doesn't feel as vile or as powerful as that demon you so briefly and partly encountered in the Memorian Base.

You make it to the dojo without incident, and are greeted at the third knock by Cordelia.

"Lu-sensei putting you to work?" you ask, as everyone files in.

"He's upstairs, playing host for Larry's folks," Cordy answers. "Hey, Zelda."

Zelda waves. "Hi, Cordy!"

Such is your little sister's cuteness that even Cordelia spares a smile for her. "Anyway, Amy called and said she might be late, her parents ran into some people they know..."

Ah. So if you break the Blaisdells' worldview, you may not have Mrs. Madison on hand to help provide perspective and assistance with the clean-up.

Speaking of Larry's folks, when you get up to the roof, you find them over by the flowerbeds with your teacher, looking at one of the plants he's got growing up here with some interest. While taller and leaner than your own father, and maybe a bit better looking if you're speaking completely objectively, Larry's dad nonetheless has the same look of a lifelong Sunnydale resident that your folks do, the knowledge (however repressed) of the things that go bump in the local night and their impact on life in the daytime hours having aged him beyond his years, as well as made him instinctively watchful of his surroundings in ways people in more normal towns and cities simply aren't.

Case in point, he was standing so that he could see the stairwell door out of the corner of one eye, and gives it and your family a more direct look when you emerge.

"Tony, Jessica," he greets your parents.

"Hey, Doug."

"Doug, Barb," your mother returns.

"Hi, Jess," Barbara Blaisdell returns with a cheerful smile. "Happy Fourth of July!"

You know from past conversation that Larry's mom first came to town as a student at U.C. Sunnydale, which is where she met his dad. Not having spent most of the first two decades of her life on the Hellmouth, Mrs. Blaisdell looks distinctly younger and healthier than her husband, to say nothing of her bright, happy demeanor.

As introductions are made you start cycling your ki to try and boost your hearing so that you can catch the Mayor's speech. It's not something you've ever specifically attempted before, but it's a straightforward application of Ki Enhancement, and you can take plenty of cues from your experience with sensory-boosting spells.

You start low, of course, not wanting to blow out your eardrums or anything like that.

Gained Sensory Boost E

"What are you doing, lad?" Lu-sensei inquires lightly.

How'd he notice? This is a purely internal application of ki, and you have Mind Blank a-

"There's a certain look that students at and around your level of proficiency tend to don when they're testing a new application of ki," your master replies. "I've learned to recognize it."

-ah. Well, then; score one for experienced and attentive teachers.

"I'm trying to boost my hearing to catch the Mayor's speech," you reply quietly. "I thought I might 'repeat' it for everybody else."

"...a thoughtful gesture," your teacher muses. "What sort of 'repetition' did you have in mind?"

He is, you note, glancing at the middle-generation Blaisdells.

"I was planning to use a Spell of Illusion..."


In a show of the similarities and divergences between Shadow and Self, your partner is wearing a sundress similar to the one her darker side chose for her disguise, save that it's a pleasant shade of green instead of red. She also got a hat from somewhere, but it's a completely different style than the master thief-inspired one Shadow Briar had on.

You wonder if Zelda will think to use Briar as a visual reference...

"...but I can try to make it sound like the speech is carrying?"

Frowning slightly, your teacher glances at the Blaisdells, and then looks off towards City Hall, visibly measuring both the distance and the noise of the crowd lining the streets.

After a moment, he turns back to you. "It may do, but I would suggest" - he says, in a tone which makes it clear that this isn't really a suggestion - "that you check with Lily and Larry first, to make sure they're both on-board with potentially overturning their relatives' worldviews."

You'll do that, then.

As it happens, Lily has no compunctions whatsoever about "giving my self-blinkering idiot son a wake-up call to the side of the head," and Larry both thinks his dad can take the surprise and kind of has it coming.

"Better that somebody friendly does it than, you know, practically anyone or anything else," he says with a gesture at the people and things below.

Very true, even on this day of days, when most people and things are in a festive mood.

They're both a little less certain about Mrs. Blaisdell's deservingness of having the wool pulled from over her eyes, or how well she'll take it - assuming that she doesn't genuinely believe that she's hearing His Honor speak, or convince herself of it.

You agree to ask Briar to be in position to catch, comfort, or render unconscious the lady, depending on how she takes things. Larry will be doing the same, except for the last bit.

After all, he doesn't have magic, he hasn't learned any techniques for harmlessly knocking someone out-

Come to think of it, neither have you. That feels like a bit of an oversight, given how... less than completely ideal for quick, non-lethal takedowns of single targets your Sleep Spells can be. Surely, there must be a Touch of Sleep or knockout nerve pinch in the annals of the Five Elements Style?

Something to ask Lu-sensei about, perhaps, but not today.

-and he's certainly not about to try punching out his mom.

With that sorted, and after Lu-sensei has seen that you've got the go-ahead from the other two generations of the Blaisdell family, he sighs and signals for you to go ahead.

You proceed to cast the Spell to Create a Major Image. You don't need the visual, thermal, or olfactory aspects of the spell, just the audible one, but since the spell is designed to have a visible component, you go ahead and include a minor one that shouldn't draw attention from the crowd.

The tricky part here is getting the sound loud enough to be intelligible to everyone in Lu-sensei's rooftop garden, without making it so loud as to carry "downstairs" - and this assumes that your own enhanced hearing is keen enough to catch the Mayor's words-

"Alex, watcha doin'?"

"Yeah, Alex," Cordy chimes in, "watcha doing'?"

You glance from your sister to your friend, and then past them to your partner.

"Well?" Briar asks. "You've been asked an important question by an important person."

Sighing and silently telling yourself - for about the millionth time - that you really need more guy friends, you explain that you're trying to listen for Mayor Wilkins' speech.

"From this far?" Doug Blaisdell says, his tone matching the doubtful look he casts at the busy sidewalks. "I don't know, unless they went to the trouble of wiring up speakers along the way..."

Faintly, over the distance and the noise of the crowd, you hear, "Good afternoon!"

It's quickly echoed by your Illusion.

"...huh," Larry's dad says. "I guess they did."

His wife shushes him so they can hear.

"And welcome, one and all, to Sunnydale's very own celebration of the Two Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Independence Day of these United States of America...!"


"...but I know you all didn't come out on this fine day just to hear me speak," Richard Wilkins declares with self-deprecating humor a few minutes later. "So without further ado, and by the power vested in me as the representative of the good people of Sunnydale, rightly and democratically elected according to the principles laid down by our Founding Fathers, I declare this Independence Day festival begun!"

Even without your magical relaying, the cheer from the gathering at City Hall can be heard fairly clearly - and a moment later, it's been joined and drowned out by the slightly-delayed celebratory shouting of the crowd closer to you.

"I'll say one thing for Wilkins," your father declares, voice raised enough to be heard over the general ruckus. "The man knows how to make a speech."

"He ought to," Lily Blaisdell huffs. "The Wilkinses have more or less run the town since its founding. You don't last that long in politics without learning a few things."

The adults nod with varying degrees of agreement, amusement, or reluctant acceptance.

"There's something ironic about that," Briar notes thoughtfully. "At least today."

The parents in the group pause to regard the "teenager" in their midst, even as they visibly consider her words, but Lu-sensei and Larry's grandmother just shake their heads, wryly amused and apparently reminded of something they've heard before.

"You're not the first to point out the contradiction of having the third successive generation of a local political dynasty presiding over the celebration of the Declaration, Briar," your teacher explains.

It does kind of fly against that line about "all men being made equal," doesn't it? To say nothing about the whole struggle against a monarchy and the abandonment of the institution of nobility - the former of which, it must be noted in passing, does stir a certain chord with you, or at least your inherited memories.

Then again, Ganondorf himself was a King, so comparing his long-running feud with the Hylian royal family to the Founding Fathers' revolution against the British Crown is kind of a stretch.

Yeah, it's not like any of those guys were demonic warlocks. ...I think.

Probably not, although the timing of Adams' and Jefferson's deaths is a bit suspicious, and then there's Franklin...

While musing on the matter, you release your hold on your Spell to Create a Major Image. To minimize the chances of discovery, you opted to overlay the reality of Lu-sensei's rooftop with an image of itself - at least along the "flooring" - and the moment it's cut off from your will, that image freezes and slowly begins to fade away as the mana invested into it begins to disperse.

Nobody other than Briar - who is cheating through her connection to you - reacts to the cancellation of the spell, and Lu-sensei just spares you a nod when the matrix completely falls apart, which has you wondering just how well your spell affected him, if it did at all.

Aside from Doug's earlier comment about speakers, Larry's parents don't appear to have found it unusual that they could hear the Mayor as clearly as they did over the distance involved. That's a success, as far as the convincing use of Illusion Magic goes, even if it's also kind of a failure on the attempt to give the Blaisdells a wake-up call to the supernatural.

But you didn't freak anyone out, either, so on the whole, you'll call it a win.

You've got maybe ten minutes before the parade reaches your location. While you're waiting for it to arrive, is there anything you want to talk about with one or more members of the assembled group, or otherwise do to pass the time?


You lean forward a bit more than before, just far enough so you can look down at the stretch of sidewalk directly in front of the dojo.

"Problem, Alex?" Cordelia asks.

"Just wondering where Amy and her parents got to," you reply honestly.

The brunette frowns at that and walks up on your right. "Are they still not here?" she wonders, as she joins you in searching the crowd.

"Not that I can tell." And considering that you're looking with more than just your eyes - even if you're only using your passive senses to look for Amy's familiar aura against the background "noise" of the crowd - and that it IS you searching, this is saying something. "Did Amy mention who her parents were talking to?"

"She just said 'some people they know,'" Cordelia repeats with a shrug, seemingly quite unbothered by what she heard, and only slightly put out by her friend's absence.

To your left, a head appears in your peripheral vision, low even as it tries to peer over the side of the building with a wordless hum of curiosity. Small hands grab the edge of the roof, which is your cue to reach out and catch the nearest little shoulder.

"Careful, Zelda," you say, as you restrain her from hopping in place or climbing up onto the bricks.

"You be careful," your sister retorts as she shifts her shoulder under your hand, but not with enough force to constitute a serious attempt to throw off your grasp.

"I am."

"Well, I'm just doing what you're doing."

"But I'm taller than you, so I don't have to jump or lean as far forward to see."

"But that's not fair!"

"That's physics," you state. "And also biology. And a bit of mystical weirdness..."

"So you're cheating," Zelda sums up.

Not having spotted any of the Madisons with the quick and easy approach, you get out your Magic Cellphone and dial Amy's number.

*Ring*

...

*Ring*

...

"Amy speaking," comes the answer.

"Hey there, Amy Speaking," you greet her. "You missed the big opening."

"Actually, we caught the whole thing," Amy corrects you. "One of the stores has a big TV set up out front and was playing the broadcast for the crowd."

...you think you vaguely recall seeing that earlier, and glance towards the store in question. It's still over half a block from the dojo, and between the distance and the crowd, you still can't make out Amy's presence, but the large display and accompanying speakers are visible.

"I see," you state, both factually and figuratively. "Cordy mentioned that you were running late because your parents were talking to people. Anyone I know?"

"Just a couple of the ladies from Mom's club and their families. I don't think you've ever met them...?"

She names a few names, and none of the ones belonging to the adults ring any bells. A couple of the kids Amy mentions are vaguely familiar, in a "that guy I heard about one time who did the thing with the thing" kind of way, but that's it. Amy confirms that her mom's friends aren't a coven or anything, just a group of housewives who get together to experiment with new recipes, talk about new books and movies, boast and complain about their kids, and just generally gossip.

Having satisfied your paranoia mild concern about Amy's absence, and considering the state of the crowd, you arrange to meet up with the Madisons after the parade.

On that subject...


Being perfectly honest, there are a lot of factors stacked in your favor which are at least a little unfair all by themselves, let alone in combination.

On the mundane side, you were born into a wealthy, modern nation that is, if not entirely peaceful, is at least not engaged in any major wars - as opposed to any number of strife-ridden lands that have existed in the history of Earth or other worlds. You have access to comparatively high levels of nutrition, health care, and education, and while your family is not rich by current standards, they're well-off enough to provide you with more than just the essentials. You are permitted to pursue numerous personal interests and just play around with your friends, of whom you are lucky enough to have quite a number, rather than having to immediately contribute to the survival of the family. You've learned self-defense from an excellent teacher, and as a result of that, have had the opportunity to match your skills against some of the best in the world for your age level.

On the supernatural side, you were born with a level of magical potential whose like you have yet to encounter, as well as the attention - neutral to poor as it initially may have been - of three mighty Goddesses, which you've since managed to parley into a very positive regard. You've made friends and friendly contacts with beings ranging from tiny fairies and young monsters to ancient former demons and Great Fairies, and you're on good-natured taunting and business terms with one of the most powerful and well-known wizards of any age. You've dipped your toes into the pools of psychic power and spiritual arts, are skilled at swimming the currents of ki manipulation, and are plumbing the depths of the sea of arcane lore. You've invaded ancient fortresses, defeated or driven off their guardians, and plundered their riches and secrets.

And all of this, before you've even turned ten.

So, yeah, you're cheating. And quite frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Do you have any ideas of how you could 'cheat', Zelda?"

"Have you cast magic on me!" she says immediately.

"Besides that."

"Learn kung fu!"

"Better. Anything else?"

Your sister hesitates for a moment at that.

"Um... drink a lot of milk?"

"So, Zelda," you say, as you pocket your Phone and lean forward, folding your arms atop the edge of the roof. "Have you seen anyone interesting down there?"

Sparing an annoyed scowl for how you're silently mocking her shortness, Zelda huffs once, turns to look at the crowd for a long moment, and then points out someone who meets your vague criteria.

"That guy's dressed like the flag!"

You follow her pointing finger and see a man who has gone all-in on showing his patriotism. He's wearing red, white, blue, and stars, his face and arms have been painted to match, and he's even dyed his hair-

*Twinkle*

-and added a few bits of sparkling jewelry. He's also got an actual Star-Spangled Banner to hand, properly fixed to a standard that he's holding up to his right in a slightly-sloppy manner which you think would have some of your Memorian allies frowning or shaking their heads.

Not that an American flag would mean anything to the ancient not-Roman ghosts, but it's the principle of the thing; if you're going to carry the colors of your nation, then by Mars, you should do it RIGHT!


"Milk is good," you agree with a nod. "But what about your vegetables?"

"Carrots are crunchy, ketchup is yummy, potato chips and fries are the best, and peas are good for throwing with spoons!"

...

Where do you even START with that response?

"It's very... tri-chromatic?" you venture uncertainly, before shaking your head. "Excuse me, Zelda, I need to quietly yell at someone about banner standards."

"...huh?"

"What?" Cordelia and Briar chime in.

You've already raised your hand to point at the man whose banner discipline (or lack thereof) has managed to tweak your Memorian-influenced sensibilities.

"Hey!" you snap, trying to channel the disciplinary anger of a centurion into the whispers that this spell is designed to work with. "You with the flag outfit!"

The man in question starts and looks around.

"Yes, you. Stop gawping around and listen!"

Predictably, he does neither. "What the he-"

"Hey! LISTEN!"

From Briar's direction, there is a quiet groan - but whether there is more power in that phrase than you realized, or just because of the increased snarl you put into your words, your use of Navi's disciplinary phrase causes the Star-Spangled Spectator to still.

"Your banner-handling is a disgrace! Are you seriously carrying the colors of this great nation like that? Generations of proud Americans are ROLLING in their GRAVES at the travesty! Stand up straight! Shoulders level, head up, chest out! Straighten that standard! Butt on the ground, point to the SKY! Eyes forward and mouth SHUT, these people did not come to see your lack of fashion sensibility-"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cordelia nod in agreement.

"-however patriotic it may be, and they certainly aren't here to see your gormless gaping!"

"Hey-"

"Quit yapping, unless you WANT people to look at you funnier than they already were!"

He actually falls silent at that.

It likely helps that some of the people near the fellow actually ARE giving him odd looks. None of them are glancing around as if they'd heard the harsh whispers from nowhere - which was unlikely; true, the Message Spell isn't entirely inaudible to people other than its intended targets, but it's not easy to hear at the best of times, let alone in the middle of an excited crowd like this. It's merely that the sudden change in the guy's behavior and his cut-off exclamations have caught their attention.

Independence Day or not, you ARE still in Sunnydale. Anyone with a working survival instinct pays attention to weirdness, whatever form it takes.

"Better," you murmur. "Now, remember: what you hold in your hands is NOT the emblem of your favorite sports team or your school; it is the symbol of your COUNTRY and the ideals it was founded upon, for which good people have fought, bled, and died for over two hundred years. Those sacrifices DESERVE respect, and you WILL show it in how you carry those colors, am I understood?"

"...yes?"

"I said AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

"YES!" That one doesn't come through the spell, having been half-shouted.

It results in a couple of folks edging away from Flag Man, or at least as much as they can with the crowd in the way, while others - who apparently hadn't noticed his previous behavior, or else misinterpreted it - just take up the cheer with enthusiasm, apparently assuming it to be born of the spirit of the day.

"Good! I hope I won't have to speak with you about this again."

And with that, you cancel your cantrip.

"What was THAT about?" Briar demands.


"Do you want me to try finding some tasty veggie dishes for you, Zelda?"

Your offer is genuine, made out of a big brother's earnest desire for his little sister to grow up as healthy and happy as possible.

"Nope!" Zelda replies immediately, with a cheerful smile.

So naturally, she refuses.

You probably should have seen that one coming, but in your defense, it's a nice day, there's a lot of people around, and fun and games are soon to be had - you are, in short, a bit distracted. And if your thoughts are being occupied by the festivities, how much more so must Zelda's be?

On that note, you decide not to try arguing with you sister about good eating habits. Instead, you make a mental note to bring it up with your mother later, and let her decide how to handle things.

"I blame Memorian influence," you tell your partner.

Briar considers that, and nods slowly.

"What's this about the ghost soldiers?" Cordelia asks.

You quickly fill her in on your recent outing with the ancient not-Roman ghosts, where you got a close-up look at how seriously they took the condition and care of their unit flags, and spent some time (most of it by proxy) carrying a standard of your own.

Intellectually, you're aware that a legion banner carried on a battlefield and a modern replica of a national flag being waved around during a holiday celebration are two extremely different things. Emotionally, however...

"Besides," you add, "if that guy is going to wear a flashy outfit, he should act like all eyes are on him, because they will be!"

Cordelia nods at that, and Zelda does likewise, clearly mimicking the older girl without really understanding why.

Before you can say anything more on this subject or change to another topic, something else catches your attention. Your ki-boosted ears have been hearing music in the distance ever since the Mayor finished talking, a somewhat faint march that has grown steadily clearer as the band playing it came closer and closer, but now it is slightly drowned out by the cheer which goes up from further down the street.

"Here comes the parade!" Zelda shouts, pointing and bouncing in place.

And sure enough, the front ranks with the banners of nation, state, and city held proudly before them have come into plain view, with the marching band behind them. At first glance, you figure the musicians must be from U.C. Sunnydale, as they all seem to be in their late teens or early twenties, but as they stride closer, you note that a few members of the group are shorter, less filled out, less confident in how they carry themselves, or wearing uniforms that - while neat and well-fitted - are visibly neither comfortable nor familiar enough for the discomfort to be ignored.

You think you may be looking at members of the high school band, pressed hastily into service to fill some vacancies in the ranks of their seniors.

As much as you would like to hope that those absences are due to illness, someone having entirely too much fun at one of those campus parties you occasionally hear in the distance - or hear your parents complaining to one another about over breakfast the following day - or something similarly benign, this is still Sunnydale. The odds are against anything so mild being the reason replacements were needed for the parade.

You are distracted from that depressing line of thought by the sight of your sister still making like a spring, trying to see.


You sigh the sigh of put-upon older siblings everywhere, and then reach down.

"Hang on, squirt."

"I'm not a-aaaahhhh-oooohhhh..." Zelda initially cries out as you pick her up and shift her around to your back, but then trails off with a sound of delighted interest. "That's MUCH better..."

"You're welcome."

There's a pause.

"What do we say, Zelda?" your father chides gently, as he and the rest of the adults join you and the other kids at the edge of the roof.

"Huh? Oh! Um, thank you, Alex?"

Not the most rousing thanks you've ever received-

Your pocket warms.

Gained 1 Gratitude Crystal

-but you'll take it!

"Isn't that kind of... difficult?" Larry's mother wonders, looking over at the two of you with a frown of maternal concern.

You turn towards her, Zelda giggling as she turns along with you.

"It's not that bad," you say.

"Alex is big, and I'm small," your sister adds helpfully.

"But you're not THAT much smaller," Mrs. Blaisdell tries again, before pausing with a thoughtful frown. "Unless it's the martial arts training...?"

"That definitely helps," you admit easily. "Although Lu-sensei doesn't have us lifting weights or hauling big rocks around or anything like that, we do practice throws."

The possibility of further discussion is derailed by the advance of the parade.

After the banners and the band come the civil services. First are the police, officers on foot in their (light) uniforms, followed by a couple of cars with banners and other decorations spread across hood, roof, doors, and trunk, lights flashing and sirens giving the occasional brief blare. Following them is a car-shaped float with the department's emblem front and center, national flags planted at the rear corners, and an open compartment where the rather pale Chief of Sunnydale Police Department rides in full dress uniform, smiling and waving for the crowd.

Next up are the fire department, who've brought three trucks - all different models, you note absently - one with a ladder raised to support banners on either side, while another does something similar with its crane. They don't have a float, but don't really need one, either, big red trucks being as attention-getting as they are. The Fire Chief is perched in the compartment at the end of the lead truck's ladder, looking vaguely smug about his elevated view of the proceedings.

Fortunately for him, there's no low-hanging power or phone lines cutting across the street.

Third in line are the health care workers, with two ambulances and a float in the shape of Sunnydale Memorial itself. You and Zelda make a point of cheering louder for THAT group, even if your mother isn't part of it-

"Seniority has its perks," she says.

-and maybe it's your personal bias speaking, but you think the crowd in general is a bit louder at that point, too.

Everybody in Sunnydale ends up visiting the hospital eventually, even if it's not for themselves.

On it goes, employees of the town and local state departments moving by in their turn, some numbering only half a dozen individuals, others bringing in nearly as many bodies and vehicles as the police, firemen, or medical workers.

The armed forces are represented next, by a detachment from the Sunnydale Armory. They're led by a small band of their own, just shy of a dozen souls wearing uniforms appropriate to the era of the War of Independence, while the rest of the unit wear the modern version. Their choice of escort vehicle is limited to a couple of jeeps that proudly bear the base's unit insignia alongside the other banners of the day. You honestly aren't sure if the base maintains anything heavier than that; if they do, you doubt it would be considered appropriate for the parade OR appreciated by the town's road maintenance crews.

After that come the costumed riders of the Equestrian Club, "leading the charge", as it were, for the various non-governmental organizations, special interest groups, and businesses taking part in the parade. Being somewhat less bound by rules and regulations, there's a greater variety among their chosen costumes for the event, although as they pass, you note that the organizers must have pushed to try and represent different eras of American history: pioneers and pilgrims; cowboys and Native Americans; business moguls and "legitimate" businessmen; movie starlets and reporters toting big flash cameras; greasers and... other greasers; and more styles besides, each chosen because of how it represents a particular period in popular culture.

A couple of guys even dressed up as Mario and Luigi, and are mock-fighting a third person in a giant spiky-shelled turtle costume-

!

-which is not actually a costume. Oh, the flaming red mane looks like it could be a wig, the cartoony spikes and shiny golden crown are definitely not real, and the "smoke" that occasionally billows from the Bowser-lookalike's mouth is actually water vapor that's being produced by magical means, with a rather clever use of carefully not-quite-hidden plastic tubing alongside the mouth of the "costume" offering a perfectly mundane explanation for the source.

The humanoid turtle, though? That part is completely legit.

This isn't the first member of the parade to have demonic heritage that you've noticed, but is the most obvious by a good measure - and from the cheering, especially the voices of the kids (and no few older souls), either nobody else has noticed, or nobody cares.

"That is a VERY good costume," Barbara Blaisdell observes. "I'm not sure if I agree with it being part of an Independence Day parade, though."


You could argue that the cultural impact of the Super Mario Brothers series and the significance the games have accumulated over the last decade and a half make them as worthy of inclusion in a parade that's trying to evoke periods of American history as clothing styles of decades past. You could also say that, if you're going to feature the heroes, then including their recurring arch-nemesis only makes sense - especially given the superior entertainment value of having them appear to fight one another, as opposed to having Mario and Luigi standing around waving. You might even drop a broad hint that the individual portraying Bowser is more than they appear to be.

But you decide not to do any of that, instead just enjoying the parade, or what's left of it. Once the "Mario Brothers versus King Koopa" float has gone by, there prove to be only a few more floats, a handful of groups on foot, and lastly - as well as some distance behind the rearmost element of the parade proper - a street sweeper truck, sucking up the detritus left behind.

"Huh?" Zelda wonders, shifting on your back in a way that makes you think she just tilted her head in puzzlement. "Why is that a part of the parade, and why isn't it dressed up fancy?"

"I think that truck's just there to clean up after the others, Zelda," your mother replies.

"More like it's there to clean up after the horses," your father observes wryly. "I can't really see Wilkins leaving it up to chance that they didn't leave any surprises behind..."

"Huh?" Zelda repeats word, tone, and motion alike.

"I did not think that through," your father sighs.

While your old man tries to explain himself to your sister in a way that won't have her-

"Oh, poop!"

-doing something like THAT for the rest of the afternoon, you consider your next move. Amy had relayed her parents' agreement to meet the rest of you at Lu-sensei's place, rather than having the whole lot of you trying to move around and stick together in the crowd that's begun to spread out in the wake of the parade.

Is there anything in particular you want to say or do before the Madisons arrive, or to them when they have caught up with the rest of you?

Once people have moved on to the next phase of the day's excitement and the streets are less packed and more navigable for a fair-sized group, you have a number of potential destinations available. Flyers have been issued over the last couple of weeks about the individual events being put on, and while you and your family have a loose outline of a plan, some discussion with your friends about their interests is definitely in order.


It's another seven minutes or so before the Madisons finally make their appearance, and you spend that time on the roof, drifting about as the rest of the group engage in various conversations. There's some discussion of what the best - and worst - parts of this year's parade were, how they measure up to their predecessors - or don't - and of course, what the plan is now that the first event of the afternoon is out of the way.

If anyone were to ask - and you're pretty sure you see Larry's mother considering it at one point - you would have said that you could have easily carried Zelda for the entire time and then some, but once the parade has moved on and left her with little to see from her lofty throne, your little sister soon gets bored and asks to be put down.

It abruptly occurs to you that all the excitement may have caused Zelda to forget that she was looking for people in the crowd not too long ago.

When the Madisons get within casual not-quite-shouting distance of the rooftop gathering - a shorter range than it usually would be, thanks to the crowd - there is a brief exchange, which results in Larry drawing the short straw and going downstairs to open the door like a dutiful student, after which he and the Madisons come upstairs.

For one reason or another, Catherine Madison has never gotten a chance to see Lu-sensei's garden before today, and she's curious about the sort of plants he has growing up here.

While your teacher indulges his latest guest's interest - and does a little bit of good-natured showing off - the rest of you get into a discussion about which of the post-parade attractions should be first on your list to visit. Flyers are taken out, arguments made, and previous plans compared-

"Horseys!" Zelda says eagerly.

-and you soon have the other kids agreeing that a visit to the Equestrian Club's riding event would be a nice first stop.

"There'll be a line," one of the adults warns.

"Then the sooner we get there, the sooner we get a place in it," Cordelia returns.

"Yeah, horseys!"

"Also," you add, looking at your father, "if we're waiting to ride the horses, you'd have a chance to check on some of the other rides, to see what their rules are for ages and heights and such."

Tony glances at Zelda, who is once again bouncing in place, and then back at you. "This is a good point," he agrees with a nod.

It would definitely be better to be sure which of the various rides will allow someone Zelda's age and size on them, whether that's by herself or with one of the parents accompanying her, and which ones won't. Not all of the flyers had that information, or at least not as in-depth as you might have liked, and there might be a scene if Zelda got all excited to go on a particular ride and then was told that she couldn't.

Rather than setting up their riding event at the Equestrian Club proper - which is on the outskirts of town, and rather far to walk - the club members have taken over part of one of the town parks. Once Mrs. Madison has had a chance to look over the garden, everyone heads downstairs and out of the building, beginning the walk to your intended destination. You could normally cover the distance in less than ten minutes, but with all the other foot-traffic and assorted distractions, it takes close to twice as long. About halfway there, your dad leaves the group, heading for the lots and marked-off sections of street where the more mechanical rides have been concentrated.

En route to the park, a thought occurs to you: should you be riding a horse that isn't Khamsin? And if not, should you try to summon your equine friend to join in for this part of the day's celebration?


Zelda falls silent at your question, and then utters a single, "Whoops."

"...is that a yes, or a-?" you begin.

"It's a no, don't put me down, I need to SEE!"

Your sister emphasizes her "request" by tightening her grip on your shirt.

"Alright, alright, calm down."

You make a point of staying reasonable close to the edge of the roof while you're waiting. Although Zelda doesn't spot your "out of town" guests - this being the explanation you offer to Larry's mother, when she inquires after who or what it is that your sister is so interested in looking for - she is the first to see Amy's family and greet them, which involves some shouting, waving, and bouncing on your back.

Seeing as how Zelda is in a convenient location, you keep her there as you head down to ground level and begin moving through the crowd.

"Look at me!" she proclaims gleefully. "I'm tall!"

"I know that feeling," Briar says with a laugh.

"It's adorable, of course," Barbara says from behind you, "but is he REALLY going to carry his sister around all afternoon?"

"No, not ALL afternoon," your mother says. "He'll at least put her down for the rides, games, and bathroom breaks."

"...and the rest of the time?"

"It could go either way, honestly."

Your mother knows her children well.

After due consideration, you decide that it won't hurt anybody if you summon Khamsin for a few minutes of light riding - and especially not Khamsin himself.

The only real concern will be summoning your equine friend without drawing a lot of attention to yourself, and since the Equestrian Club has set up in the park, there should be numerous sources of cover. It'll depend on how close they are to which little bunches of trees and bushes, whether or not they've got any tents or other temporary structures set up, and where the horse trailers are parked, if the club members brought them. They probably did; it promises to be a moderately busy afternoon for the horses, on top of the display they've already put on, and they will have well-earned a lift home when their part in things is done.

As the park comes into view, you take in the temporary paddock that's been put in place for the horses to rest, eat, and drink between rides, the nearby stretch of mostly-flat grassy field that's been marked off by a couple of rope fences, and the line-up of kids, teens, and a few young (and not-so-young) adults. The Equestrian Club has a dozen members and horses out in the biggest field at the moment, walking at an easy pace while kids cheer and squeal from the animals' backs; in the next area, three more visibly experienced riders are being allowed a little more freedom with their rented rides, although still nothing like a full run.


Although the idea of just walking in and out of the horse trailers does have a certain practical appeal, a fair number of people are standing within plain sight of the vehicles and the nearby paddock. It would be a fairly simple matter to use Illusion Magic to make it look like you belonged to the Equestrian Club, but even with your ability to conceal low-level spells, there's only so much magic you can throw around before the secondary effects start drawing notice - particularly in front of an audience as big as this one.

Also, they've got a not-quite petting zoo set-up going on to one side of the paddock, letting the kids look at the horses - and vice-versa - while one of the riders talks about what sounds like the history of horseback riding.

Seeing as how you've got an opportunity to avoid all that "power calling power" business, or just being called out by some overly-observant kid who hasn't yet internalized the Sunnydale mantra of "ignore, avoid, and repress the weird stuff," you decide to take it.

With Zelda bouncing in place and humming happily and the adults having fallen a distance behind, you turn to Briar and quietly ask her if she could run a bit of a distraction, mostly aimed at Larry's mother. She agrees easily enough and quickly recruits your friends to help, while you slip into the crowd and begin making your way towards the trees.

"Why'd you need a distraction?" Zelda asks. And then, with some disappointment, she adds, "And why aren't we getting in line?"

"There's another line," you say confidently.

A brief pause ensues as your sister shifts on your back, looking ahead.

"No there isn't."

"It's a very short line, maybe six people in total."

"But I don't see anyone."

You sigh, and just say it directly: "I'm going to summon Khamsin, Zelda - which is why I needed the distraction."

"Oh. Oh! Well, why didn't you just SAY so?"

As you're considering how to get your hands on riding tack for Khamsin, a thought occurs.

You've been using a kludged-together combination of the Spell to Summon a Mount, your pre-existing bond with Khamsin, and his own inherent plane-hopping power to summon the not-so-little guy in the past. While this will probably stop being an option once Khamsin grows a bit more - and certainly will when he hits his adult size - it's still valid.

The thought you've had involves the Mount Spell, which normally summons a horse with saddle, bit, and bridle. You've never tried to summon Khamsin so equipped, and he doesn't "own" any such gear, but could you perhaps make it work all the same? He IS a creature of Shadow, after all, if not so directly as, say, Shadow Alex, and the Shadow Element is rather malleable. Then there's your own affinity for the element and the forces it represents, helped along as it is by the Heart of Shadow.

All things considered, you'd say it's worth a try.

Slipping into the trees-

"Watch your head, Zelda."

"Yipe!"

-you head for the center of the small grove, to get maximum coverage against unwanted attention.

And then you make with the magic, casting a Spell to Speak With Animals first-

"Can I talk to him, too?" Zelda asks eagerly.

-and then following it up with the Summoning Magic-

*Poof*

-which yields a dark young horse who gives the bridle strapped to his head as much of a puzzled glance as he can manage, while sparing a light, experimental chew for the bridle between his teeth.

"Hey, buddy," you greet Khamsin. "That stuff's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"Hi, Arexsh!" Khamsin greets you, words slurred by the bit. "It'sh a rittre-"

You reach out and remove the mouthpiece.

"-ah, thanks! It's a little weird, but I was more surprised at it just BEING there than anything else, you know? And look at me!" He prances happily. "I'm dressed up like a big horse!"

When you float the idea of giving a few rides to you, your sister, and your friends, Khamsin is indeed interested - although the way his ears and gaze shift nervously towards the noisy crowd of kids beyond the grove hint that he's a little wary of the number of people around.

"No more than six people, Khamsin," you assure him. "And if the crowd gets too noisy or too close, just let me know, and I'll chase them off."

"Thanks- I mean, I can handle it! I'm a big colt!"

He is at that.


"I'm a sorcerer. I have to at least TRY to sound mysterious, or they'll take away my license."

"Ohhhh..."

...

Nothing else to say? Huh.

Modifying the Spell to Speak With Animals to affect a single person other than yourself makes it the equivalent of a third-circle spell, which is both within your ability to cast concealed and won't compromise your ability to hide the working of other spells. With that in mind, you're willing to spend the energy to let Zelda have a little fun.

"Hi, Khamsin!"

"Whoa, Alex! Your sister learned how to talk!"

And like that, they're off, chattering.

You give the pair a few minutes-

"Is he good at carrying you around?" Khamsin asks, eyeing you askance.

"Mm!" Zelda replies with what you think is a nod. "Although not as good as a horse."

"Well, no. Horses are the BEST at carrying people!"

"The BESTEST!"

"Yeah!"

-but eventually an emotion is projected down your familiar bond with Briar that has you cutting the conversation short. It's one part mild impatience, another part similarly low-key caution, and a third portion of honest curiosity.

Figuring that your partner and friends are starting to have some trouble keeping certain people distracted from your absence, you move Zelda to Khamsin's saddle-

"Alex, help! I can't get my feet into the straps!"

"Hang on, they're adjustable... okay, maybe not THAT adjustable..."

-and after some work and quick conversation with the horse-

"Aw, we're not going to run?" Khamsin complains.

"It's not a very big field," you explain. "More than that, though, some of the adult humans might get worried about kids riding a running horse, especially one your age."

"I can do it! I'm strong!"

"But they don't know that, and they think they know better."

The snort Khamsin gives THAT says it all.

-you take the reins and lead Khamsin and your sister-

"Watch your head, Zelda."

"Yipe!"

-out of the grove and into a steady walk around the kiddy field.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Zelda calls, practically the instant she's clear of the trees, hands waving excitedly. "Look at me!"

"Keep a hand on the saddle, Zelda," you remind her.

"I'm fine, I just- whoops!"

Your mother does indeed look at Zelda - and the horse beneath her - before turning to you with a deadpan expression.

Your mother just sighs and glances meaningfully at the nearest of the costumed Equestrian Club members, before giving you a questioning look. Said rider, incidentally, has not noticed your presence on the field or Zelda's exuberance - there's several other kids doing much the same thing, after all, to say nothing of the ones not-so-patiently and certainly not quietly waiting their turn - nor have any of his fellows, but it's only a matter of time until somebody does. At that point, they'll assuredly start asking questions, like where the extra horse came from.

What sort of answer will you give?


With the hand that isn't holding Khamsin's reins, you make a broad gesture that takes in him and Zelda both, the two of them radiating excitement and pride, while trying to hide nervousness at the crowd (Khamsin) or embarrassment at nearly falling out of the saddle (Zelda). Then you return your mother's look with a questioning one of your own, silently asking if you were supposed to deny this sort of cuteness, and if so, how?

In the words of some undoubtedly wise figure who predates your current lifetime, "Fake it 'til you make it."

Not sure if that's actually wisdom, but I like it.

It depends on who it is, what they're faking, and the circumstances around it.

With that in mind, after your wordless communication with your mother, you summon up your dignity and pride, straighten your posture, and try to metaphorically wrap yourself in a cloak of confidence.

If you act like you have every right to be here and doing what you're doing, most people will assume that's the case, or at least not openly express their doubts to the contrary.

As it happens, you do get some puzzled looks from the members of the Equestrian Club over the next half an hour or so, individuals visibly struggling to recall if they've seen you or Khamsin before. Several of these people see Cordelia nearby, nod to themselves - and to her - and immediately put you out of their thoughts, while a couple others send uncertain looks at your group and their fellow upper-crust equine enthusiasts, before following the lead of the group.

An older man, who you vaguely recall as one of the stablehands on shift that time you visited the Club proper to introduce your friends (and Zelda) to Khamsin in appropriate surroundings, actually comes over to greet Cordy and then the rest of you. He then spends the next ten minutes chatting with Larry, to the visible, albeit fleeting surprise of your friend, and the rather more pronounced startlement of his parents, who are clearly wondering how their son knows this guy.

You recall that Larry ran interference for you during that outing, keeping this very fellow from looking too closely at the "brown colt" your group was most focused on and realizing that he was had one too many young horses in the stable.

From what you overhear today, the older man doesn't so much as hint at thinking anything weird is going on. You aren't sure if that means he's forgotten Khamsin was a different color back then, if he's assuming this is an entirely different young horse, or if he's put the clues together and decided not to poke his nose too far into an obviously unusual situation.

Given that the fellow remembers meeting Larry, you don't think it's a memory issue, but that's about as much as you can say with any certainty.

Regardless, all the kids in your group get their turns at riding Khamsin, who holds up well under the stress, whether it's the weight of the riders, the attention of the crowd, or simply the noise and brightness on this clear summer festival day. Not wanting to push your four-legged friend too far too soon, you let everybody else have their turns ahead of you, with even "Cousin Briar" making a circuit of the field, her Fae physique and the uncanny lightness that goes with it offsetting her seemingly teenaged human size enough for Khamsin to not have an issue carrying her around. You also make a point of letting Khamsin rest for a minute or two between rides, and get a drink of water once.

At last, it's your turn, and as you climb into the several-times adjusted saddle, you feel your horse tremble eagerly underneath you.

"You really do want to run, don't you?"

"Can we?" Khamsin asks, your renewed Spell to Speak With Animals conveying his hopeful tone.

You eye the fields. The horses in the kiddy lane, where Zelda, Amy, Larry, and even Briar took their turns, have been kept to strictly walking-pace the whole time you've been here, but when Cordelia made a circuit through the side of the park for experienced riders, she was allowed to get Khamsin up to a trot, and you've seen some of the other horses moving at a canter, if only in short bursts.

That said, Cordy IS a more experienced rider than you are, and she's smaller, so she'd have been easier for Khamsin to carry. Against that, you can actually speak to your buddy, and you have that whole past-life mystical soul connection thing - it has to count for something positive, right?


Maybe it's Khamsin's demonstrated eagerness, or the festive spirit of the day. Perhaps it's simply the fact that you're nine years old and have been waiting for what feels like forever for a chance to properly ride and run with your four-legged friend.

Whatever the reason, it just seems like it would be a terrible waste for you to have summoned Khamsin here and then NOT let him run the way he wants to.

That having been said, you don't want to draw too much attention... but you have an answer to that issue.

Once upon a time, you used to take Moblin to school with you every day, employing a simple and somewhat crude magical effect that utilized the ambient weirdness of the Hellmouth to make people ignore the presence of a dog in the classroom, or at least not question it too hard or openly. You never got around to codifying that effect as a proper spell before coming clean to your parents about the whole magic thing, at which point you were told to stop using it, and it sort of fell by the wayside.

Even so, you haven't forgotten how to generate the effect, and since you're on the Hellmouth and would like to avert questions or complaints about Khamsin running too fast for some people's comfort, you go ahead and gather your energy.

One thing that you do have to alter about the magic is the number of targets, as hiding Khamsin alone wouldn't do you much good if people could still notice YOU riding around at high speed. While this makes the ritual a little more costly and time-consuming, it's still within your ability to conceal.

A couple of minutes later, Khamsin shimmies his head as the magic spreads over the two of you. "That tingles," he comments. "What's it do?"

"It'll keep people from noticing us if we run," you state plainly, as you readjust your grip on the reins.

You feel something surge through Khamsin's body. "Does that mean...?" he asks eagerly, pawing the turf with his right front hoof.

In answer, you give the reins a flick. "Run, Khamsin! Run like the wind!"

Khamsin rears up for a moment - albeit not very high; you ARE a non-trivial amount of weight on his back, and he's still got a lot of growing to do - kicking the air with his front legs as he lets out a whinnying shout of delight.

And then, he sets his hooves to the grass.

And he runs.

There are no shouts of protest or cheers of delight as Khamsin builds up speed, but quick glances to either side - and once over your shoulder - show that you aren't being ENTIRELY ignored. Maybe it's the fact that your spell, such as it is, was originally intended to make a classroom full of mostly human children and a single teacher overlook the presence of a single animal, and one who wasn't as big then as Khamsin is now - and who STILL isn't, even though Moblin is full-grown and Khamsin has barely gotten started.

Whether it's the presence of so many more adults in the crowd, the greater SIZE of the crowd, the fact that you and Khamsin aren't "animals" in mystical terms, or just that there's a larger proportion of supernatural experience and/or inhuman ancestry in the onlookers, you do see a fair number of people either sort-of-noticing or outright staring at your sudden ride.

Briar, Lu-sensei, Mrs. Madison, and your three closest human friends are among that group, although Larry needs a nudge from the girls.

Still, whatever attention you're drawing isn't being called to the attention of the Equestrian Club members in general, so-

!

-the next thing you know, you're lying face-up in the aforementioned grass, a bit sore in places and wondering how, exactly, you got where you are.

Then Khamsin's head appears above you, looking down with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Are you okay, Alex?"

Taking stock, you determine that you're not REALLY hurt, but you are a bit bruised after...

"What happened, again?"

"I don't know! One beat, you were on my back, and the next, you weren't!"

"And that," Lu-sensei says, as he appears next to your horse, giving the colt a soothing pat on the shoulder, "would be one of the reasons why the Equestrian Club didn't want children riding horses at a run."

"Gallop," you correct absently, as you sit up and look around.

Some of the "aware" crowd are looking at you with mild concern, of the "Hey, is that kid alright?" variety, which is fading as they see you conscious, upright, and with an adult checking on you.

Others spare you looks of sympathy, though whether that's for having a ride interrupted, getting caught breaking the rules, or because they know Lu-sensei and his methods of discipline and ENLIGHTMENT, you aren't sure.

As far as first public rides go, that could have gone better.

Well, if at first you don't succeed...


Gently pushing Khamsin's head out of the way, you get back on your feet.

"Right," you say, as you dust yourself off. "Let's try that again."

"Yeah!"

And then, because your sensei is right there, you add, "But maybe a little slower this time."

"Awww," Khamsin sighs. However, that's the extent of his protest as you re-check the stirrups and then climb back into the saddle, and the horse's single complaint is swiftly forgotten as you coax him into a walk, and then to a canter. The eager trembling of the body carrying you makes it clear that Khamsin wants to go even faster, and you have to remind him to keep his pace steady rather than increase it further-

*Bump*

-and then, in the space between hoofbeats, you bounce a little higher in the saddle than you were expecting, at an awkward angle to boot, and realize what happened earlier.

There's a section of the park where the grass is not quite as level as it appears. Khamsin navigated the uneven area well enough for himself both times, but when he hit it at top speed before, you got bounced too suddenly and with too much force to keep your seat. Fortunately, you managed to get your left foot out of its stirrup before you hit the ground - the other foot having slipped loose on its own, suggesting that sneakers are perhaps not great footwear for riding - so you weren't dragged along in Khamsin's wake, your martial arts training taught you how to handle falls, and you hit the grass besides, so it made for a relatively soft landing over all.

This time, you were going just slowly enough, and sufficiently prepared for SOME sort of problem, to react in time to keep from being thrown off again.

And so, you ride on.

Gained Riding D

After a couple of minutes of circling the field and avoiding the other horses, Khamsin is no longer trying to push himself to an all-out gallop, which is either a sign that he's getting tired or that he's settled into a rhythm. You aren't quite sure which is the case, and you suspect that your four-legged friend would deny any suggestion of the former even if it was the truth, but a glance off to one side shows that some of your friends and family are starting to look a little bored, impatient, and/or envious.

Figuring that you'd have your fun and Khamsin has had a good run, you give the reins another tug, signaling for him to start slowing down.

Instead of speech, Khamsin's response comes across as ordinary horse noises, alerting you to the fact that your Spell to Speak With Animals has lapsed. This makes your ability to guide him a little less smooth, but you manage to convince him to downshift gears and make one more pass of the field at walking speed, before coming to a stop near the rest of your party.

Briar takes over communication from there, while you slide down from the saddle and stretch a couple of times.

"Alright there, Alex?" your father asks.

"Just a little sore in places," you reply. "Hoping not to stiffen up; it'd make for a lousy rest of the day. Speaking of which..." You spare a quick glance at Zelda-

"And then, 'Boom!'" she exclaims, jumping in place and raising her hands high. "Suddenly, fairies!"

"Oooh!" several kids her age say with interest.

-before turning back to your old man and asking, "How did the secret mission go?"

"Kids must be at least five years old to drive the bumper cars on their own, but kids three and up can ride with an adult."

And thus, you are saved from facing the trials of a disappointed little sister.

Not a word out of you two.

I wasn't going to say anything.

I was.

"Let me just send Khamsin on his way, and we can go."

Is there anything else you want to say to your Shadowy steed before you dismiss him?


As you lead Khamsin out of sight of the crowd, you cast a shortened form of the Spell to Speak With Animals and thank him for coming.

"I had a good time, and I know my sister and other friends did, too. I hope you did as well, Khamsin."

"It was fun!" Khamsin replies happily. "It was REALLY noisy, too," he adds, glancing at the crowd. "I'm just glad all those strange people didn't come too close, that would have been sc- I mean, there wouldn't have been enough room to run a- to run!"

You give him a reassuring pat on the flank, and make a mental note to talk to the Drakes about how to best help a young horse get used to big crowds.

For that matter, you have to wonder how they get horses used to the noise and press of combat, especially against the sort of opponents you've seen Arthur, Eric, and their respective steeds take on.

Well, if you stick with having Khamsin trained by Altria's family, you'll undoubtedly find out in time.

A quick check to make sure you're out of sight of the crowd and weren't followed by anyone, a few final exchanges of words and gestures, and you dismiss the spell holding Khamsin on Earth.

His form blurs into a freestanding mass of shadow, flattens and stretches out as it sinks to the ground, and disperses in the light of the afternoon sun.

You rejoin your group, ending the Not-Actually-a-Spell To Discourage Attention, and let your father lead the way to the bumper cars.

"Bumpity-bump!" Zelda cheers, as she bounces atop your shoulders. "I wanna drive!"

"You're too small to drive the bumper cars, Zelda."

"No, I'm not."

"Sorry, kiddo," your dad cuts in, "but you are. I went ahead and checked while you were riding the horse."

"Awww..."

"But you're big enough that you can ride, as long as there's an adult with you-"

"I wanna ride with Mommy!"

You see your dad slump a bit at that declaration.

"I don't know, Zelda," your mom says, "maybe you should ride with your father..."

"I ride in a car with Daddy all the time," Zelda points out.

He DOES do most of the driving in the family.

"But that's not a car that bumps into things."

"It bumps up and down, sometimes," Zelda counters.

Your mother frowns at that. "...Tony?"

"Might be time to take a look at the shocks," he admits.

While there is a line for the bumper cars, it advances surprisingly quickly; about six minutes after you arrived, you're picking out your vehicles, with Zelda having failed to convince your mother to take a spin. There aren't quite enough cars available for your ENTIRE group at this time, but Lu-sensei, Larry's parents, your mom, and Mr. Madison are content to wait for some free vehicles, or even to take a pass on the ride entirely.

"I get knocked around enough at work, without adding to it in my leisure time," your master says.

Lily Blaisdell laughs at that, once, as she climbs into a light purple car. "You just don't want to have to move around slowly enough to give other people a chance to hit you."

"That is also a factor," Lu-sensei agrees easily.


You claim your chariot, paying attention as the attendant gives you a quick walk-through regarding the seatbelt - which is worn over the shoulder as well as the waist, like the front seats in your family's car - the controls, and the rules of the ride.

No head-on collisions.

Keep your head, hands, and arms inside the vehicle until the ride has come to a complete stop.

If there is a problem with your car, do not attempt to exit; instead, wait for a staff member to assist you.

Do not undo your seatbelt until the ride has ended.

Do not mess around with the pole.

Once the worker has moved on, you grip the wheel, drumming your fingers upon it lightly as you consider where you are in relation to the rest of your soon-to-be opponents. Based on how fast you saw the cars moving, if you were to immediately go on the offensive as soon as the ride is turned on, you could probably catch Amy by surprise - but then Cordy would have a clear shot at you, which you aren't so keen on.

Much of the fun of bumper cars is hitting people, but there is a certain satisfaction in not being hit in return, and you mean to enjoy as much of both as you can.

A buzzer sounds three times in quick succession, and then a hum runs through the floor, the ceiling, and the cars that connect them, as the ride is turned on.

Once more, you ride out - this time, into honorable battle!

"Every kid for themselves, and may the best bumper win!" you declare.

"You're on!" at least three people call back.

*Bump*

That's one for you, against Larry, who picked the green car.

On a side note, that hit felt a bit more satisfying than it perhaps should.

*Buzz*

That's an attack by Amy avoided. She's driving an orange dodgem with a white stripe down the middle, kind of like a billiards ball, and seems to be having some trouble steering.

And then your father and Lily Blaisdell pull off a combination that has you dodging the former-

*Bump*

-only to drive straight into the path of the latter.

"Treachery!"

"You only said the kids were on their own, Alex!" your father laughs.

You glare at him and then point at Zelda, riding next to him in the larger, brown two-seater.

"I'm just a passenger!"

You might have argued back, but Briar is coming up behind you with all the speed the blue car can muster - which isn't much, admittedly - and a yell of, "An opening!"

*Buzz*

Fortunately, you're able to pull out of her direct path, and the fairy can't quite steer herself far enough to the right to land a glancing blow.

"I'll get you next time-!"

Rather than take the time to come about and repay your turncoat partner in kind, you focus on building up speed and going after Cordelia, whose shiny yellow car is in your sights!

"Oh, no you do-!"

*Bump*

And so it goes, with a few things soon becoming apparent.

For one, you think you might genuinely have picked one of the faster cars, at least when it comes to acceleration. Whether that also applies to top speed is anybody's guess, as you don't exactly have the space or the time to travel in a straight line long enough to max out the car's very modest performance.

For another, your vehicle steers reasonably well, not drifting in any particular direction nor having the wheel or pedals get stuck when you turn or press them.

And for a third, your father and Larry's grandmother are kicking all your rubberized bumpers, simply because they actually know how to drive. Your dad also has Zelda riding shotgun, but whether the worth of her co-piloting outweighs her distraction value is anybody's guess.

Gained Driving F++
Gained Mounted Combat F+


"Fellow youths!" you call bombastically. "Comrades in childhood! Also, Briar!"

"Excuse you, I AM a kid!"

"What do you say to a truce and temporary alliance against the treacherous adults?"

"I don't know, Alex," Larry begins, glancing over one shoulder to where his grandmother is taking evasive action against one of the kids currently on the ride that isn't part of your group.

"I'm up for it," Amy calls back. "If I can get... this stupid thing... to TURN-!"

And then she turns, and goes zooming - slowly - off in the wrong direction.

"Not what I meant!"

You look at Briar and Cordelia.

"I'm with you, Alex," your partner says, despite her previous annoyance.

"Bring it on," Cordy replies, adjusting her grip on the wheel.

The three of you form a line and come about swiftly - at dodgem speeds-

*Bump*

"Clear the road!" Cordy says to one guy in her way.

-pushing aside a couple of fellow riders as you advance towards the adults.

"Room for one more?" an unfamiliar boy asks, falling in on the far side of Briar, who is to your left.

"Sure!" the fairy calls.

"Welcome aboard!" you add.

Of course, the issue with having negotiated in a raised voice is that everybody else in earshot heard what you were doing, and so as your four-person-line closes, you find that not only have your dad, Zelda, and Lily Blaisdell formed up to meet your charge, they've been joined by Catherine Madison and some guy in his twenties - an older brother or cousin, or maybe a young uncle, to one or more of the other kids crashing around the ring at this time.

"Forward!" Zelda calls, punching the air.

Recalling the warning against head-on collisions, you veer off to try and come at the opposition - specifically, your dad - from an angle, with your allies following suit. As you have the superior speed, the adults go on the evasive-

*Buzz*
*Buzz*
*Bump*
*Buzzump*

-with varying degrees of success.

Maybe thirty seconds of bumping and buzzing later, your trained senses alert you to an incoming presence, a kind of innocent aggression and gleeful sneakiness that you immediately recognize from group spars, being ambushed around the house by Zelda, and various incidents on the playground.

Unfortunately, as fast as you react and as quick as your red car is-

*Bump*

-it isn't quite fast enough to get you out of the way of the bumper car that came up behind you while you were sailing towards Mrs. Madison.

"Surprise!" a boy you've seen around school yells.

From the look of things, seeing two teams of four cars going at each other on one side of the arena convinced everybody else currently on the ride to make an alliance of their own, and ambush the lot of you.

*Bump*

"Amy!" Cordelia calls in protest.

"Sorry!"

From there, things rapidly descend into chaos, alliances breaking down into an every-car-for-themselves mayhem that continues until the big buzzer sounds once more, signaling the end of the ride.

Gained Commanding King E++
Gained Driving F+++
Gained Mounted Combat F++

"Can we go again?" Zelda asks, as you're all getting out of your cars.

"The line's gotten fairly long right now, Zelda," your mother points out. "Maybe later?"

Zelda frowns at the line, which has indeed grown past the point where it was when your group first joined in - and this with a fresh load of people already piling into the freed-up bumper cars.

"Mmmm... okay. Alex, pick me up!"

You raise an eyebrow at your little sister's somewhat-commanding tone, but seeing as how you DID decide to provide her transport for the day, you obligingly crouch down to let Zelda scramble on your back once again-

"Whoaaaa-!"

-but not without a little spin to remind her that you are carrying her around out of the goodness of your heart, rather than any obligation.

The next stop you had in mind was a run through the arcade, but what about after that? It's a bit past three, if that makes any difference.


You speak up in favor of spending some time at the fair's arcade, which leads to your group splitting up. Larry, his grandmother, Cordy, your folks, and Lu-sensei join you in challenging the warriors of the digital domain, while Larry's folks, the Madisons, and Briar go to investigate some of the other rides that have caught their interest.

Zelda is of course carried along into the arcade, and finds some amusement in cheering you on as you play a round of King of Fighters against one of the other patrons, but seeing as how you need both hands to wage cabinet combat, she has to hold herself up, and soon grows tired of it. Back on the floor, Zelda is once again the shortest and smallest person in the room, which makes it difficult for her to see what's going on, and maybe a little intimidating besides. While you do resume holding her up when it's her turn to play a round at a given game-

"Shoot the aliens, Zelda!"

"Ah, they're too fast!"

You watch over your sister's head as she frantically steers a shining starfighter all over the screen, shooting constantly at the waves of alien warships and monsters that fly, slither, or simply appear from the far right. Most of her attacks miss, and so do most of the aliens'.

But most isn't all.

"Aw, no fair! I dodged that!"

-Zelda quickly gets bored with the arrangement, and leaves the tent with your mother.

There's enough traffic in the arcade tent that you have trouble getting a good rhythm going with any of the games, as every time you run out of lives, there's a call - sometimes unspoken, sometimes verbalized - to let someone else take a turn, and you're too polite to hog one of the machines. Likewise, you have trouble finding and keeping good partners and opponents for various games, since as soon as someone's avatar has been knocked out, shot down, or otherwise determined to be the loser, they tend to move on to another game.

And then there's the matter of minding your money. Not that you're worried about it getting stolen, it's just that the Shuzen family arcade has spoiled you for not having to crank out quarters every time you want to try out a different title. Each time you consider a new game here, the weight of the coins in your pocket seems to increase - or more correctly, decrease - which kind of sours the experience.

A little over half an hour on, you gather up those of your party that remain, to move on to some of the more traditional games.

"What did you DO to the punching machine, Sensei?" Larry asks in amazement.

Lu-sensei just smirks smugly as he furls up the bundles of tickets he "won" from the blinking, siren-wailing machine.

There's not a scratch on the thing, but you have the strangest feeling of pity for the game all the same.


Once your teacher has gathered up the spoils of his victory-

"What was that about not wanting to mix work with leisure?" Lily Blaisdell notes archly.

"That is that, and this is this," Lu-sensei replies.

-you step up to have a go at the punching machine. That Ki Enhancement technique you used to help you pick up the Mayor's speech earlier is still going, the energy having been redirected to a more general boost of your physical parameters once the parade proper got going. It's helped you with carrying Zelda around as much as you have, both in terms of strength and endurance, and it'll be useful again here, but you don't see much point in calling on any other supernatural abilities.

For one thing, there's a lot of mundane witnesses, as well as a few not-so-mundane ones.

For another, one of the audience members is your martial arts instructor, who wasn't using ki in an aggressive manner himself when he took on the punching machine. If you were to "cheat" after a display like that, Lu-sensei would probably be disappointed in you - if only for giving Larry's grandmother ammo to use against him.

So you step up to the machine - the title "Sonic Blastman: Real Puncher" is declared proudly on the top, sides, and screen - insert coin, and don one of the gloves while selecting the gameplay mode and difficulty level.

Following the safety spiel, you find the titular Blastman getting a drink in a fairly classy bar - in full superhero costume, no less - when a greasy-looking "merchant" in a loud suit and hat, with a cane, too much jewelry, and glasses, comes up and offers him a bunch of money. For... some reason.

You are informed that YOU HAVE 3 TO PUNCH.

You're not sure what the plot is supposed to be, here, but whatever.

You take a stance, wind up-

*Pow!*

-and the guy who you figure is probably supposed to be some sort of criminal staggers backwards, his sprite changing so that he looks like he's taken a proper hit.

The arm resets, and you ready yourself for your second strike.

*Pow!*

This blow leaves the slimeball covered in bandages and with a cast on one arm, a target number in the top corner of the screen having decreased to zero - but the level doesn't end, and the guy is STILL trying to offer "you" money with his good hand.

Very weird.

Thinking that you've gotten the measure of the machine now, you take your third shot-

*Pow!*

-and the bad guy goes FLYING into the wall at the back of the room, dragging a potted plant and some kind of statue with him, while one of the bar's patrons cringes in alarm and another seems to dance with joy.

And then you're shown a victory screen, where a smugly confident Blastman stands triumphantly with his back to his "opponent," who lies in a heap amidst the wreckage of the bar counter. The bartender is yelling at SOMEONE, while the screen declares, "Money don't talk to me."

And then the game tells you it's THE END.

...

Bizarre, but hey, you won some tickets, and you didn't break the machine or score so high that it looks weird - at least not if the applause from the crowd is any indication. That's a win, right?

Looking around, you judge that the mood is good enough for you to go again, if you want.


"Not going to try your luck at a second round?" Lu-sensei inquires, as you slide off the blue boxing gloves.

"I'm not really feeling in the mood to hit stuff," you admit. There is a brief pause as you fetch your tickets and hand the gloves over to the next person in line to don the mantle - or mitts - of Sonic Blastman. "Or at least," you continue, "not to hit things with my fists."

"Can it be?" your master wonders.

"...what?"

"Are you exercising self-restraint?" he continues. "Surely not. Who are you, and what have you done with my relentlessly overachieving student?"

Making your way out of the arcade tent, you move on to trying your luck and skill against the more traditional fair games, and hopefully meeting up with the rest of your party.

The ring-toss ends up being your first stop, due to proximity and the current lack of a line. It takes three of your five throws just for you to work out how the things maneuver, and your two remaining tosses aren't that great, certainly not making up for the loss of points. Cordy gets in a lucky shot-

"Skill, not luck," she says primly, before making a second toss at the same target.

Naturally, it's a ringer. And she's not even using ki!

-that puts her in the lead, Larry is a bit behind you, and a frustrated Amy brings up the rear.

There is a general agreement to play a second round, in which you and Larry both throw better, while Cordy does a bit worse - but still beats you - and Amy is starting to look seriously tempted to use Mage Hand to levitate her shots to their intended targets, cast Detect Magic to make sure the booth operator isn't cheating, or just hex the guy. Maybe a bit of all three.

As it happens, you don't sense anything mystical cheating going on, but as far as mundane methods like the weight, balance, and inner circumference of the rings goes, who knows?

Gained Thrown Weapons Training D++

None of the prizes you could afford with your winnings really catch your eye, whether for yourself or another member of your family, so you take your loot in more tickets and move on.

Next up is a round of ball-toss, where you get three tries to knock over five bottles. Again, you don't pick up and supernatural shenanigans, and the barker isn't obviously cheating, such as by handing you Nerf balls or using bottles with sand in the bottom - they're plastic, thin and translucent enough for you to make that much out - but when Amy and Larry step up first, your witchy student once again does terribly, while your best guy friend does less well than you'd expect.

You and Cordelia trade glances. This event is more about power than the ring-toss, and you can see Cordy considering the same thought that you are:

Do you want to use your ki?


"I'm a spirit of fun and relaxation, summoned to replace him."

"Gasp!" you gasp. "You've caught me. I'm not actually Alex, I'm a spirit of fun and relaxation, summoned to replace him."

The rest of the group join Lu-sensei in looking you over and trading speaking glances.

"I'll buy it," Cordelia admits.

"Same here," Larry agrees.

"Seems legit," your father concurs.

"You're all awful," you grumble in annoyance.

Although you are tempted to enhance your skills, in the end, you decide to play fair, even if the other guy isn't.

Gained Law-Abiding E

For a given value of "fair", anyway. You ARE kind of ridiculous.

On that note, you signal your intent to Cordy and then step up to the plate, so to speak, picking up the first of your three allotted balls and considering its weight, rigidity, and balance in your hand while observing the five-bottle pyramid. Between your limited ammo supply, the number of targets you have to knock down, and the possibility that some or all of them have been rigged against you doing just that, it makes sense to focus your throws on the bottom row. And while those bottles are close enough together that you could hit two with one throw, the possibility of their being weighted or anchored somehow suggests that a one-to-one firing solution is your best bet.

You straighten up.

Here's the pitch!

*Bop!*

"Two down!" the barker declares energetically, as the far-right bottle on the bottom row topples, taking the one balanced precariously atop of it and its neighbor along for the ride. "Or is it three? Four? Three? No, just two. Next ball!"

Wind up, and-

*Bop!*

You wince, seeing that your aim was a little off, and you hit both of the bottles in the bottom row. While this sets the pair to wobbling and is plenty to knock down the third bottle that they're both holding up, it doesn't quite suffice to overcome their inertia and whatever might be reinforcing it.

"Oh, so close! Three down, last ball!"

Repressing a faint impulse to fling the ball at the barker, you take aim, and let fly your final shot.

*Bop!*

"Four down!" comes the expected count, as the fifth bottle rattles and rocks in place, but doesn't quite fall.

Cordy has similar luck, aiming for the bottom-row bottles, but hitting the first one too low to knock it over - even though that does bring down the bottle above it - and then having to waste a ball bringing it down. She ends up with a count of four.

"Good try, good try, here's your tickets, next up!"

One of the kids in the crowd comes forward, as does- your dad?

Tony makes a show of loosening up his throwing arm, and proceeds to knock all three bottom-row bottles off their little shelf with TWO balls.

"We have a winner!"

Way to go, dad!

And so it goes. Dart-throwing, wiffle ball, a water-gun game, a high striker-

Gained Club Training D+++
Gained Strength Control B+

-Whac-a-Mole, Skee Ball, and more.

You win at some, you lose at some, and once or twice you win very well.

As the afternoon winds on towards dinnertime, you find you can no longer ignore the complaints of the beast. Taking your winnings, you head for the food stands, where you shortly meet up with those of your original party that you hadn't already found wandering about the midway.

What are you plans for after a meal of carnival fare?


You decide to hold on to your winnings for the moment, reasoning that you should probably consult with the rest of your family - especially Zelda - to see if there's any particular prizes that must be claimed in the name of Harris, and if so, what tickets they have to put towards the cause.

Your father agrees with your reasoning, and holds on to his own winnings for the time being as well.

Once everyone else has redeemed their tickets or not, you head for the food stands-

"-sausage-inna-bun! Meat so fresh, the pig don't know-"

"-dog-onna-stick! Melts in your mouth, not on your hand-"

"-funnel cake fries! Available with chocolate or strawberry-"

"-doesn't want a nacho? Everybody loves nachos-"

-where you swear you can feel your arteries hardening just from the smell of rich, frying food that fills the air.

Hmmm, nummy.

Before purchasing anything to eat, you outwardly make it look like you're searching around for the rest of your party, when you're actually just following the familiar bond back to Briar, who went off with the Blaisdells and Madisons earlier and has been keeping an eye on them since - and more recently, your mother and Zelda as well.

While discussing dinner options and the dispensation of the family "prize money," you notice that Amy is looking at the guy selling hot dogs with an air of recognition and suspicion.

"Problem, Amy?"

"I met that guy at the flea market," she replies. "He was selling vegan sausages."

You consider that. "Alright, I'll bite: how do you get a vegan sausage?"

"According to him, you make it from animals that have only ever eaten vegetables."

...

"I'm... pretty sure that's not how that works?" you offer with some confusion.

"Tell me about it," she grumbles.

You consider the stall, its operator, and their product. Everything LOOKS fine from a distance, and the smell is certainly appealing, although all the other fryers running in the area might be masking any problematic scents.

"Was it a bad hot dog?" you finally ask.

Amy waggles one hand from side to side. "I mean, it wasn't gourmet eating or anything like that, but it wasn't bad, either."

Well, if that rousing "meh" is indicative of the general quality of the man's wares...


For a moment, you are genuinely torn. Carnival food is one of life's guilty pleasures, but there's a difference between buying something that's bad for you once in a blue moon, and buying something that's bad for you and getting overcharged in the process. As nigh-constantly hungry as you are, you aren't a glutton, and you know that there are some things people have tried to pass off as "food" which have no business claiming that title, much less being rewarded for their deception.

Also, you're not exactly inclined to do business with someone who pulled a fast one on your friend and pupil.

But as you take another look and listen at the food court-

"-I'll sell 'em for less-"

"-my word as a carnie-"

"-special Fourth of July discount-"

-you have to admit, you're having some trouble seeing or hearing much of a difference between the guy Amy's pointed out and the other stall operators. Sure, he LOOKS a bit shiftier and SOUNDS a bit more determined to make a buck - or a half-dollar - but you know that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and that probably applies to things you hear, too.

Even when those things come from the horse's mouth, as it were.

Compelled by another growl from the beast, you gather up your courage and decide to take a chance. Amy sighs and tags along, with Larry, Cordy, and Briar following. For this, you don't carry Zelda along, reckoning that you'll need your hands to carry all the food; she goes off with your parents to handle getting the drinks and finding a place to sit or stand as you eat. Larry's father comes with you to handle the bill.

"Welcome, young sirs and ladies, to Samuel Michael-Owen Frederick Dibbler's Sausage-inna-Bun Emporium, all the meat you can eat at prices so low, I'm shooting myself in the foot, how can I help you on this fine Fourth of July afternoon?"

While you place your order, Amy is looking over the menu, such as it is.

"You're not selling 'vegan' sausages anymore, Sam?"

'Sam' looks around quickly and perhaps a bit nervously at that, before lowering his voice to reply. "It was brought to my attention by one of the organizers of this fine event that there is a difference between 'vegan' and 'vegetarian', and that, in my ignorance and to my everlasting shame as a salesman, I had - quite unintentionally, I assure you - been misrepresenting wares suitable for the latter category as if they were fit for the former, when they were, in fact, not. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise and dismay when my honest mistake was pointed out."

"I can," Amy sighs.

Even as he talks, Dibbler's hands are fast at work preparing your order, which comes to half a dozen dogs for the Harris family, three more for the Madisons, five for the Blaisdells, one for Cordelia, one for Lu-sensei, and then two more so that Dibbler can clear out his fryer, these last sold at a "full ten-pack discount, a price so low you could step on it!"

Gained Haggling C++

Fortunately, with Briar and Mr. Blaisdell along to help and some doubling-up, your side has hands enough to carry everything without spilling or smearing the condiments all over the place.

Gained Dexterity C

"Pleasure doing business with you," Dibbler says, as he works another bit of fairground magic and makes the money in Doug's hand disappear. "Be sure to tell your friends!"

Moving carefully to avoid any accidents, you make your way through the crowd to where the rest of the group has staked a claim to a single table. Hot dogs are set down next to red-white-and-blue lemonade slushies, and just as quickly picked up - and then, much more slowly, considered by everyone for a long moment-

"Om!"

-except for Zelda, who doesn't hesitate to take her first bite.

Glances are exchanged, and a silent countdown from three begun.

On three, everybody takes a bite.

...

You'll put it this way: it tastes. You're not sure what OF, underneath the condiments and grease, but it definitely tastes.

Fortunately, there is lemonade.

And after that, and a short time to let the meat of questionable provenance settle, there are more games.


Feeling in the mood to burst someone's bubble-like plastic sac, you head for one of the games you played earlier. As you walk, you focus your ki and psychic energies in turn, boosting your general information-processing.

When you visited the Dart Balloon game earlier, most of the eponymous targets were red, white, and/or blue, with the occasional oversized spangle, all in honor of the day. While no doubt dozens of balloons have been popped over the last half-hour or so since you took your turn, the color scheme has been largely maintained - but you do see some other colors starting to creep into the display, and the original flag-like pattern the targets were arranged to create has well and truly given up the ghost.

That's fine, though.

You pay close attention as the players ahead of you spend their money and take their chances, hoping that your twice-boosted senses will clue you in to whatever shenanigans are afoot. You quite clearly remember seeing a few balloons NOT popping when hit by darts, and you want to see if you can determine why and work out a winning solution.

...

After a few turns, you think you've identified the problem. While the balloons aren't visibly wrinkled or sagging, they're also not fully inflated, like they would have been for a birthday party or most public displays. The plastic hasn't been stretched to the point where it's become translucent, which affords it a mix of both resistance to and give in the face of external forces, even when those forces arrive propelling the sharp point of a dart.

Instead of a strained material that tears when punctured, releasing the air inside all at once with a bang, more than one balloon successfully bounces a hit. Even many of those that are punctured don't pop outright, deflating more gradually - and often after the people who saw them hit have moved on.

And the rules do state that you have to BURST the bubble, not simple deflate it, for it to count as a win.

Hm.

When your turn comes up, you pay the fee, collect your three darts, and take aim at- (Choose up to three, may "focus fire" to maximize chances of a balloon popping.)


While still waiting in line, you offer up a quick prayer of apology to Farore for not going after her favorite color-

They're just balloons, though?

-and start looking over the blue balloons for one that is fuller of air - hot or otherwise - than its counterparts, and so more likely to pop when it's hit. Your first quick sweep fails to turn up the shiny, semi-translucent texture of plastic stretched towards its bursting point, but does reveal a few targets that are obviously wrinkly or otherwise showing signs of deflation. Ruling those out, you take a closer look at each of the remaining blue balloons-

"Darn!"

*Pop!*

"Yes!"

-dropping a couple more from consideration after they're hit before your turn comes up.

By that point, you have a target locked in, and raise the first of your darts. You're far from any sort of authority on the construction of such things, but the weight seems okay in your hand, the tip looks properly sharpened - a careful tapping with one finger confirms that - and the fletching is straight. What more can you reasonably ask for?

Gained Arrowsmith F+

Frowning at the balloon in your sights, you take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then-

*Thunk*

"Oooh, so close!"

-miss by a hair.

You raise your second dart, consider the shot carefully-

*Boing*

"Oh, bad luck!"

-and are vaguely reminded of Hardhat Beetles as the projectile bounces off.

But you have the range now, and with a final, full-force throw-

*Pop-thunk!*

"Direct hit!"

-you burst the balloon.

None of the prizes available for popping one of the targets are all that interesting, and even the more valuable offerings don't hold your attention enough to tempt you into playing additional rounds, so you just take your prize in a few more tickets.

Your group wanders the fairgrounds for a time after that, visiting an attraction here-

"Why is there a haunted house at an Independence Day fair?"

"Why wouldn't there be?"

-going on a ride there-

"Bumper cars! Bumper cars!"

"Alright, Zelda, we can look..."

-and in general just walking around, taking in the sights.

Somewhere along the way, you hand some of your tickets over to your father, so that the family can purchase a particularly impressive prize:

Your remaining loot, you divide between your friends.

"Not going to get anything for yourself?" Cordelia inquires.

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, the crowds begin to thin out and a few of the fair attractions shut down, the festive spirit of the day not able to overcome the ingrained cautionary habits of more than one Sunnydale resident. Yet past a particular point - not quite sunset, as it happens - the foot traffic starts to pick up again, as figures whose auras read more overtly of demonic energy start to venture onto the streets.

Zelda doesn't appear to notice anything, and Larry's mother remains cheerfully oblivious, but every other member of your group is at least watching the shadows and those who move around in them, while Lu-sensei, Briar, Cordy, Amy, and her mother all join you in keeping sharp, supernaturally enhanced eyes and other senses open.

Then the sun properly sets, the vampires start showing up, and you start having to restrain an impulse to make with the Fire Elementalism.

From the way Lily Blaisdell's hands twitch, you aren't the only one fighting down an impulse to wreak violence on certain parties - and Catherine Madison actually DOESN'T hold herself back at one point, falling back from the group a bit with a sudden whisper of witchcraft that is followed by a frightened yelp and the sudden sounds of something in the shadows turning and running.

A bit later on, you see a group of "historical re-enactors" in period-accurate costumes that you think might actually be the genuine article, roughly evenly divided between British regulars, Revolutionary militiamen, and irregular mercenaries. There's hardly a full-blooded human in the bunch, and the various battle-cries-

"For the King!"

"No taxation without representation!"

-are distinctly heartfelt.

Your mom takes one look at that and turns in your direction, her expression positively baffled.

You can only shrug. All you said was that some of the local demons were probably around for the War of Independence; that they'd show it off like this is as much a surprise to you as it is to her.

Sunset is at about quarter after eight, but the festival schedulers set the fireworks to begin at nine, giving more time for the sky to be properly dark. There are no clouds, and with the new moon having been just a few days ago, it promises to be an excellent night for fireworks...


You look at the tiny cavalryman - wearing a blue coat faced with red, whitish breeches, a little plastic helmet, and with a pistol at one hip and a sword at the other - and his slightly larger steed, which Zelda and your mother (but mostly Zelda) brought back from the prize booth. You think they're two dolls that were made separately and then stitched together, as opposed to being made as a single, awkwardly-shaped and more complicated to produce whole, but you could be wrong.

You're not ignorant of the ins and outs of mundane sewing, but it isn't one of your more developed talents, either.

Then you look at Zelda herself. "This is because of the horse rides earlier, isn't it?"

"Un!"

Zelda gained Revolutionary Rider

Fair enough.

That settled, you pick her up again.

"Whee!"

"I plundered a fortress not too long ago."

Cordelia pauses for a moment, and then nods. "Right, you mentioned that whole thing with Strawberry Boy's very extended family."

"That's not what his name means, Cordy."

"I am not calling him anything based on 'First Guardian' until he can take Tatsuki in a fair fight, because right now, SHE'D be the one seriously defending the twins if anything managed to get past their parents."

...not an unfair or inaccurate statement, considering Tatsuki spends enough time at the Kurosaki place to have been unofficially adopted.

Still, on behalf of your orange-haired Japanese friend, ow.

As the clock starts ticking towards nine, more and more of the fair's events start closing down, if only temporarily in some cases-

"-popcorn and soda! Perfect for viewing-"

"-inna-bun, an experience for the tastebuds-"

-and not until the last possible moment in others. The crowds move towards various designated viewing areas, with your group ending up on a grassy hill in the park, which you share with a good fifty or sixty other people. It's not quite standing room only, but a fair number of people do stay on their feet, if only to make room for others to sit or lie down.

For your part, you-


-shrug off the momentary temptation of laying down on a nice patch of grass to watch the sky fill with explosions, choosing instead to remain on your feet.

"Are you sure?" Briar asks, from where she's parked herself underneath a tree.

You're no more tired of carrying Zelda than your sister is tired of being up past her bedtime!

"Yeah!" Zelda agrees. "We're naaaawwww-!"

That isn't a yawn! It isn't!

Unfortunately, as so often happens, once one person has succumbed to the herald of sleepiness, several other people fall victim as well.

"Hang in there, kids," your father says good-naturedly, as if he wasn't one of the people who just yawned. "The show's only scheduled to last fifteen minutes or so."

And checking the time, you've got fourteen- no, thirteen minutes left before it starts.

While the rest of your group picks out places to stand or sit, Cordelia reluctantly excuses herself, saying her parents will be expecting her to join them "over with the boring people they don't actually like."

Given the hour, the crowd, and the makeup thereof, Lu-sensei temporarily leaves the group as well, to escort Cordy safely to her folks.

While you're waiting for the show to start, you look around the park, taking in some familiar faces, others that you only faintly recognize, and plenty more that come up as perfect strangers. Mostly, you're making sure that none of the overtly demonic or undead types get too close to you and yours, but you're also on the lookout for Batreaux and the Shadows, who you've not seen hide or hair of since leaving the house. The mystical connections you hold to them via the Heart of Courage and the Spell to Call a Planar Ally have remained steady all afternoon, and there have been a few points where said sorceries have "tugged" at you in the way such things do when their target is near at hand - but each time you looked around, you failed to recognize your summoned associates.

Given the Shadows have the benefit of both Mind Blank and Adjustable Polymorph - as well as your own mundane skills at stealth and avoidance, or a reasonable facsimile thereof via a familiar bond - their ability to stay hidden from you makes sense, although you can't help but feel that it's also kind of cheating, seeing as how they knew that Zelda was trying to look for them.

Then again, you probably should have expected something like this from a couple of Shadows with Fae influence.

Your inability to spot Batreaux in the crowd is a bit less easy to explain. True, he was using a Spell of Mind Blank as well, and is wearing rather different clothes than you're used to seeing him in, of a style that fit in pretty well with Sunnydale's mundane population, but the Risen Demon himself is kind of memorable. Not a lot of people around town are quite that tall or broad-shouldered, and you can't think of anyone else with that distinctive hairstyle and the tendency for DRAMATIC EMPHASIS.

There's probably a story behind your sorcery tutor's ongoing absence.

Lu-sensei returns at about four minutes to magic time, assuring those who ask that Cordelia is back with her parents, and enduring the tedium as well as can be expected-

"It helps that Batreaux was there to give her someone interesting to talk to," he adds in an aside to you.

With an effort, you prevent your head from turning towards your instructor so fast as to attract attention. "You said what, now, Sensei?"

The old man nods. "I was rather surprised to see him there, myself, but he was trading gossip and backhanded compliments with the high-brow crowd like an old hand. Don't worry," he adds, "none of us let on that we'd met before, and I trust Cordelia to keep that act going."

"...do you have any idea HOW he ended up there?" you wonder.

"The well-dressed, not-so-young lady hanging off his arm was a hint," Lu admits.

From nearby, Briar pipes up, "Did... you just suggest that Batreaux got himself a DATE?"

Lu Tze gestures with both hands, as if comparing weights. "Got one, got shanghai'd AS one... these things are relative."

"But he's only been in town one day! Eight hours at best! How did he even FIND someone...?"


There's a certain self-assurance that comes with being a sorcerer, a confidence born of knowing that, with an act of will, you can bend reality in your favor and reduce your enemies to so much ash and croaking toads. Or maybe it's the other way around, and only those who have the certitude that the magic WILL obey them - if not immediately, then in due course - become sorcerers worthy of the name.

Either way, powerful sorcery and a powerful ego tend to go hand-in-hand, and the latter trait is the sort of thing that draws attention and interest for entirely mundane reasons, even before the spellcaster in question reveals any of his arcane capabilities.

Confidence, as you well know, is king.

As such, it's entirely possible and even likely that, just by walking around with the sort of surety of himself, his powers, and his purpose that your tutor in spellcraft normally displays - even if said purpose was, today, simply to attend a new sort of festival - Batreaux could have caught somebody's eye, despite being, in all fairness, not the most handsome or particularly expensively dressed of fellows.

You'll have to ask him about the details later, if he's willing to discuss them.

Regardless, the show is about to start.

Speakers scattered about the park and elsewhere buzz and briefly squeal to life, and you hear Mayor Wilkins' voice once again, welcoming everyone to the big event of the evening. He thanks a number of parties for their assistance in making this year's fireworks display one to remember, and then hands off whatever microphone he's using to the people in charge of the sound system.

As the notes of the Battle Hymn of the Republic begin to play through the speakers, the fireworks begin with a solitary rocket launching at the beginning of what would be the first line of the sung verse - if there were any lyrics - then detonating in time with the end of said line, just in time for the next rocket to fly. The third does the same, and then, where it would be "The Un-ion mar-ches on!", six shots are sent aloft in rapid succession.

The show quickly picks up from there, and while red, white, and blue are certainly present in the colors you see, they're by no means predominant, somebody having thought to include a bit more variety - gold and silver and green, paler shades of red and blue than you'd see on the flag.

You don't recognize the second song that's played, but it's not too long, and it's followed by an instrumental-only version of Springsteen's Born in the U.S.A.

While Zelda spends the show "Oooh"ing and "Ahhh"ing from her spot on your back, you periodically glance around at the audience, partly to make sure your security isn't being threatened, and partly just to see how people are taking the show. By and large, the reactions appear positive, although you catch Lily Blaisdell frowning at one point - not exactly the look of grandmotherly disapproval you've seen hear wear once or twice, more like a flavor of disagreement.

Maybe she doesn't approve of someone's choice in pyrotechnics? She does have more than a little practice with the art herself.

About thirteen minutes on, the music and explosions pause, and then people all around you who had been sitting down get to their feet as the opening notes of the Star-Spangled Banner start to play. This time, when the fireworks resume, red, white, and blue very much ARE the dominant colors, with only some golden starbursts thrown in, and the number of streaks and blasts increases steadily as the anthem draws to its conclusion, until sparklers and smoke make a good go at filling the sky.

It's an excellent presentation, of fine technical skill... but you can't help but feel a little disappointed, knowing that with the correct spells, you could have created something like a giant image of the American flag, woven out of light and blowing on a breeze of thunder.

Magic, perhaps, has its downsides.

The final fireworks are accompanied by much cheering and clapping, after which His Honor comes back on the sound system to say a few final words, wishing everyone who's heading home a safe trip and a good night, while asking those who'll be staying up for the late-night celebrations to please drink responsibly and be sure to pick up after themselves.


When you called up the Madison household this morning to see what plans they had for the day, Amy made brief mention of some fairly nice demons and other supernaturally aware people that she'd met at the flea market, and was hoping to introduce you to.

Due to the extent of the fairgrounds, the number of people attending the celebration, and simple luck, you managed to go the whole afternoon and the evening without meeting anyone except Sam "Shoot My Own Foot" Dibbler - an experience you are unlikely to forget, to be sure, but Amy has admitted in passing that he wasn't really one of the people she wanted to infli- that is, to introduce to you.

Given the number of people around you right now, and the relatively slow breakup of the audience as everybody talks about their favorite parts of the fireworks display or the greater day, you figure you might as well give meeting new people one more shot before calling it a night.

You express your interest to Amy.

"I've been looking, but I haven't seen any of them all day," she replies, even as she stands on her toes and looks around. "Clem not being here makes sense - he said he was going on a road trip, and if he didn't come back for Independence Day, he might not be back until the end of summer - and Mrs. Pines lives in Oxnard, so it was kind of a longshot that she'd be here. The Marises not being here is a surprise, though; they live in Sunnydale, and Mr. Maris REALLY stands out with that hair of his, but the only person I've seen today with bright red hair was that one clown-"

You shudder.

"-and he was way too skinny," Amy goes on, frowning. "I just hope the reason they're not here doesn't have to do with those cursed items..."

Wait, what?

Amy explains her outing to the market in a bit more detail than you got before this-

You make a mental note to watch out for a weird guy with a forgettable face and excellent hair.

-and you are relieved to hear that her mother was present when she was looking over most of the cursed items in question. From what Amy says about Mr. Maris being in the know, on a first-name basis with Catherine Madison, AND having her number for mystical assistance, you figure you can leave any developments about cursed knickknacks to the ladies.

And if it turns out that they need more help, they have YOUR number.

As for the lady from Oxnard with the cursed ring, Amy's plan to help her by robbing her promises to be amusing, effective, and a good lesson.

Seeing as how none of the supernaturally-involved people that Amy met appear to be around today - Dibbler aside - you suppose you'll just have to wait for another opportunity to meet them.

That said, Amy does spot an older girl she knows, a high-school student named Jennifer, who is evidently a friend of the older Maris girl.

Looking at the girl in question, you frown. She seems vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place where you've seen her...


You ask Amy to let you know - preferably in advance - when she plans to rob Mrs. Pines for her own good. As her magical tutor, you feel that monitoring the situation via the Spell of Scrying and being ready to provide advice, quick reinforcements, and/or recorded images for future educational or entertainment purposes is the least you can do.

Either something of your puckish impulse shows through, or Amy just knows you well enough to guess at it, because she responds to your offer with a quick, "Oh, you don't have to do that, Alex. Mom'll be there in case I need help."

"Please, I insist. If two heads are better than one, four heads would be even better."

Amy glances in Briar's direction, not looking reassured by your statement.

Then she sighs, no doubt recognizing that there really isn't a lot she can do to keep you from remotely looking over her shoulder when she puts her cunning scheme into effect.

"Alright," your student in the arcane arts says, "but no recordings, and no passing memories to other people."

Oh-ho!

Perhaps it's a desire to put some distance between herself and the matter you were just discussing, but Amy agrees to introduce you to her sometime-babysitter fairly quickly.

Briar tags along, and of course, Zelda rides with you.

"Hey, Jennifer!"

"Who the he-ey there, Amy," the girl in question says in response, going from startled cuss to child-friendly language with reasonably acceptable smoothness the instant she catches sight of Zelda. "Who are all your friends?"

"This is Alex and Zelda Harris, and their cousin Briar, from out of town. Everybody, this is Jennifer Willis, she goes to Sunnydale High."

Up close, that sense of familiarity you felt before is coming back. It helps now that you're close enough to see the girl's rather pretty face, and not just her blonde hair - or maybe ALSO her hair, the roots of which are showing a shade of brown that you can almost...

"Anyway," Amy says, "I was just wondering if you'd seen the Marises today or knew where they were."

"Had plans to meet up with Sammy for the fair?" Jennifer guesses.

"Well, not plans-plans, more like it would have been nice if we could, but I haven't seen her OR her dad all afternoon."

"Yeah, he does stand out in a crowd, doesn't he? Well, you're in luck, if only a little bit of it; I did talk with Tammy this morning, and she said Little Sis wasn't feeling well, so she didn't think it'd be fair of her to go to the fair."

You're pretty sure that choice of words was deliberate, because when Zelda giggles about a "fair fair," the older girl smiles.

"Anyway, the whole family was pretty much planning to stay home."

"Well, that sucks," Amy sighs.

Jennifer shrugs. "Them's the breaks, kiddo."

"Hey, Jen!" someone calls from a nearby group of half a dozen teenagers. "You coming?"

"In a second, Leo!" she shouts back, looking over her shoulder.

And THAT'S when you place her, as the "cheerleader type" who was riding shotgun that day in the desert, when a truckload of teenagers happened upon your Private Sanctum and got chased off by the image of Zombie Alex. And in fact, when you look at her apparent companions, a few of them seem to be from that same group - although not all.

Small world, huh?

"Swear I don't know why I started dating that guy," Jen mutters to herself, as she turns back to your group.

You have the sense she's about to excuse herself. Is there something you'd like to say?


"I accept your terms, my young apprentice," you reply to Amy's ultimatum. "But!" you add, raising one index finger with a dramatic warning flourish. "I make no promises not to TALK about what I see."

Amy grimaces. "That's probably the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it."

It's not a question.

"Indeed," you say, lowering the Hand of Ominous Instruction once more.

Of course, this isn't saying anything about what Briar might do, but if Amy doesn't think to make a deal with your partner, well, you're certainly not going to bring it up. That would ruin Briar's entertainment, and spoil the lesson.

Better that Amy be reminded of the dangers of unspoken agreements, particularly involving Fae, when the other parties are friendly and the stakes minor.

While the impulse to crack a zombie joke is there, you easily suppress it, knowing it would cause you more trouble than the temporary amusement was worth.

"It was nice to meet you all," Jennifer says. "I hope you have a good night, and a happy Fourth of July."

"You, too," Briar replies.

"Happy Indypandance Day!"

Jennifer laughs at Zelda's words - or perhaps at the waving of the plush horse-and-rider - adds a more personal goodbye for Amy, and then turns and starts walking towards her friends.

As you and your companions move to rejoin the rest of your group, you give the passive tethers linking you to Batreaux and the Shadows some consideration. Neither effect alone tells you how far away your summoned allies are or even which direction they can be found in, and the use of Mind Blank spells renders any casual supernatural detection methods you might employ pointless. Nor are you inclined to break out the serious Divination Magic.

Mark One Eyeball it is, then.

Fortunately, you have a few extra pairs handy.

"Hey, Zelda? Did you ever find the people you were supposed to be looking for?"

There is a pause.

"Um..."

"You forgot to look for them, didn't you?"

"...nnnnoooo...?"

"Uh-huh. Well, maybe, if you ask Amy and Briar nicely-"

"Can you help me find the Shadows and Mister Bats? Please?"

"I don't know, Zelda," Briar replies teasingly. "They ARE in disguise..."

"What, really?" Amy asks curiously.

"The Shadows are, anyway," you explain. "It seemed like a better idea than having two of each of us wandering around all day."

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense... so what were they disguised AS?"

Taking pity on Zelda, you describe the Shadows' appearances-

"I definitely didn't see a lady with a red dress and hat," Amy says, frowning.

"Me neither," Zelda complains.

-and then explain that the Shadows were using the Spell of Adjustable Polymorph, so it's entirely possible that they've changed their appearances since then.

"But that's cheating!" Zelda protests.


"Yeah, it kind of is. But that's fairies and Shadows for you."

Zelda sputters indignantly. "W-well make them stop, then! They have to listen to you, don't they?"

"..."

Your silence does not appear to assure your sister. "...don't they?"

"...kind of, but not entirely?" you offer, with a carefully controlled shrug.

...

"...is this a lesson, like on TV?" Zelda finally asks.

"If it was, what sort of lesson do you think it would be?"

"Um... 'whoever cheats loses the bet'?"

"Nice try, but no."

"Okay, 'if the other person already cheated, cheating back is only fair'?"

You don't remember ever hearing THAT on Sesame Street or Wrestlemania! What kind of shows is your little sister WATCHING when you aren't around?

Also: "They're hidden so I can't find them with magic, Zelda."

"That's DOUBLE cheating!"

It is with a very mightily miffed little sister riding on your back that you return to your family, and everybody starts heading home. After some discussion and a certain distance from the park, Lu-sensei breaks off with the Blaisdells, meaning to first see Larry and his folks home, at which point he will gladly accept Doug Blaisdell's offer of a ride back to the dojo - once Lily has been dropped off at her place.

You continue on with the Madisons for a time, the crowds thinning out and breaking up, until-

"A-HA!" Zelda proclaims, pointing at two people who are approaching you on a street with no one else for a good sixty feet in any direction.

The people in question stop short with starts of surprise, an unfamiliar man and woman in their twenties who are clearly startled to be pointed out by a four-year-old.

"That's not them, Zelda," you inform her, as you're able to get a clear read on the couple-

!

-which reveals bloodstained aura of undeath, tainted by demonic energy, coming from both of them.

Corpse-demons. Lovely.

They aren't OPENLY menacing you and yours, but...


On any other night, in any other company, there would be fire, ashes, and two less murderous corpses in the world.

But tonight is a holiday, and more importantly, it's a holiday where you are in company with your little sister. You would rather not give Zelda nightmares about people bursting into flames at your command, if you can reasonably avoid the possibility, and so, the corpse-demons get a pass.

Said pass being subject to immediate termination if they get too close to your group, of course.

Luckily for them, the two undead maintain a distance from your group for the next half a block or so, and then turn off in a different direction-

"A-HA!"

"Still not them, Zelda."

"Darn it!"

-as you start to overtake some other human pedestrians. Maybe the increased number of people around convinced the blood-rats to grab a bite elsewhere, or maybe their paths just legitimately overlapped with yours the whole time; either way, they've soon moved far enough from you that you lose track of their auras against the background noise of the Hellmouth.

The Madisons go their own way not long after that, and your family-

As you're about to turn onto your own street, Zelda gives an uncertain, "A-ha?"

You look where she's pointing, see an unfamiliar pair of people whose auras you can't casually read coming up on you at an easy walk, and say, "Hold that finger, Zelda."

"Mm!"

And she keeps pointing.

"Do we know you?" you greet the pair.

"Does this help?" the skinny looking, seemingly middle-aged fellow asks, before he loses several inches of height, his Californian tan takes on a hint of grey, and his features morph from "bony and unfamiliar" to "that face I see in the mirror."

Next to him, the rather round, similarly-aged woman shrinks well past human size, reverting to a floating figure surrounded by a pale glow. "Ta-da!"

"I got 'em!" Zelda declares happily.

"And how many tries did it take?" Shadow Alex asks.

"That doesn't matter!" your sister retorts, the Finger of Identification instantly being replaced by the Finger of Accusation. "You cheated!"

"Three tries for sure," you say, "once she remembered she was supposed to be looking. And yeah, you were kind of cheating-"

"Double cheating!"

"-double cheating," you agree with Zelda, "what with the shape-changing on top of the Mind Blank. With that in mind, I think you owe us..."

The rest of your trip home is short and uneventful-

"What do you MEAN, you let the vampires GO?" Shadow Alex demands.

Wordlessly, you point up at Zelda, while giving your doppelganger a meaningful look.

"...okay, I can see that. But still!"

-with Zelda dropping from your back and going upstairs to get ready for bed with hardly any fuss at all.

You take the opportunity to roll your shoulders a bit. Carrying Zelda around for most of the afternoon and evening definitely took some effort on your part, but now that it's over, you're not nearly as stiff or as tired as you might have expected.

You decide to chalk it up to a mix of your natural size and athleticism, training, and Din's blessing.

You're welcome.

Given what a full day it's been and everything you have planned for tomorrow, part of you is giving serious thought to calling it a night early, so that you'll be fully rested for your next trip to Japan. Another part is considering the time zones and the fact that Batreaux hasn't come back yet, and saying you can afford to stay up a while longer.

What's your preference?


Shadow-You and Shadow-Briar trade glances and gestures, each wordlessly indicating that they would like to go first, and trying to badger their partner into letting them.

After a few rounds, the fairy seems to win the exchange, and proceeds to illuminate you on their Independence Day Adventure.

After leaving the house with Batreaux some minutes behind you, they made their way towards the parade route. There was some debate-

"Argument," Shadow-You interjects.

-about where they ought to go and how much use of force was justified in getting there-

"Huh?" Zelda inquires.

"There were a lot of pushy people out there today," Shadow Briar clarifies. "And some of us-"

"By which she means 'all of us'," your counterpart notes.

"-SOME of us wanted to push right back. But Batreaux said it wouldn't be in the FESTIVE SPIRIT OF THE DAY, and he can be really convincing when he gets going."

-and while they initially decided to get as close to the School of Five Elements as they could without making a scene, the combination of so much traffic and an ill-considered shortcut-

"Excuse you," Shadow Alex huffs. "It was perfectly well-considered!"

-ended up getting them stuck about a block up the street from the dojo. They might have been able to catch up with you after the parade passed, except that somebody who'd clearly been celebrating a lot already that day tried to get fresh with Shadow Briar, there was a scuffle, and a couple members of the Sunnydale PD tried to get involved.

"'Tried'?" you inquire, looking meaningfully at your Dark Self.

"I am completely innocent-"

"Ha!" his partner laughs.

"-of any aggression towards the police," he continues. "The other guy had a bit of demon in him, enough to let him flash eyes and snarl, and it spooked the cops."

"And when THAT guy did THAT," Shadow Briar cuts in, "THIS one knocked him cold."

"How was I supposed to know he couldn't take a hit as well as the kids we usually spar with?" Shadow Alex protests.

You picture that, a grown man with slightly off features, going down to a single blow of the sort you trade with your fellow under-ten martial artists.

"...not a very BIG bit of demon, I take it?" you venture.

"Probably three or four generations removed, from how easy he went down," your Shadow agrees, shaking his head in disappointment. "Unless he'd been drinking even more than I thought... anyway, the police were properly grateful, but they still insisted on interviewing us, so we spent some time at the station - mostly just to make sure the drunk guy got put somewhere he wasn't going to get into trouble or ruin anyone's day. Once they had that sorted, I just charmed the officers into letting us go, and we" - he gestures to himself and his partner - "changed forms as soon as we were outside and out of sight of the security cameras."

This would be why he specified he hadn't been aggressive towards the police, as opposed to claiming he hadn't done anything wrong.

"And Batreaux?"

"Wasn't directly involved with the 'fight', and we told him to go have fun while we handled things, so he never got on camera."

"Of course, by the time we got out, he'd disappeared into the crowd," Shadow Briar continues. "Which is a neat trick for a guy with his looks. Between looking for him, looking for all of you, and trying to actually enjoy the fun and games, I think we managed one, maybe one-and-a-half of three? Collectively, I mean."

"Trying to find somebody under Mind Blank without resorting to obvious Scrying rituals is ANNOYING," Shadow Alex opines sourly.

From there, the rest of the afternoon and evening were much the same for the two of them as they were for you, visiting different attractions, keeping an eye out for the Blaisdell/Harris/Madison party-

"We DID eventually track you down at dinner time," Shadow Alex admits, "and we saw one or two of you a few times before that. But each of those times, we were either on a ride, in a line we didn't want to lose our place in, or, uh, really in a hurry to get to the bathroom..."

"And you didn't just cast Locate Creature on somebody other than me or Briar?"

"I thought about it, but casting a fourth-circle spell felt too much like work, you know? And I wanted to see if I could track you the mundane way. Spoiler alert: we need more practice at it."

Yeah, you figured as much.

-and testing their courage in various ways.

"Dibbler?" you guess.

"Who?" Shadow Alex asks.


"Oh, have I got a memory for you..."

Your Shadow regards you warily. "...somehow, I get the impression that I don't want it."

Well, too bad! The next time you summon him, he'll have it anyway

"I mean, if you WANT to spend the night making your own fireworks..."

As you trail off, a big and somewhat sinister grin spreads across your Shadow's face.

"You know what? I think I do. I think I REALLY do."

"No surprise there," Shadow Briar sighs.

"Alright, but before you go, I'd like a copy of your memories, and we should probably sort out any buffs you want to use."

Shadow Alex nods. "Seems reasonable. I'll try to keep my pyromania in check until then."

You decide to stay up until your usual midnight bedtime, and maybe longer. Your Restful Blanket ensures that you can make up any sleep you "lose" very quickly, and still be up at what most people would consider a reasonable or early hour - at least as long as you don't fall asleep in a chair while reading or something similar, and you don't feel tired enough for that.

Before that, however, you and the two Shadows head down to the basement, where you call up the Mirror Hideaway and get to work.

The first order of business is a quick memory-transfer - and while your Shadow is working the ritual required to pass on about eight hours' worth of his perspective of the day, you perform a much shorter ritual, producing a memory-packet that contains the experience of eating a genuine Dibbler-made Sausage-inna-Bun.

And when your Shadow reaches out to tap you in the head, you tap back.

"What the-!" He stops, blinks, and makes a face of blank incomprehension. "What the-?"

For your part, you're trying to sort through and settle the mental download for later digestion. A few highlights flash before your mind's eye-

Gained Local Knowledge (Sunnydale) D+++

-but not much that-

!

-oh, hang on a second.

"You didn't play Sonic Blastman?" you inquire.

"Sonic what now?" your double echoes.

"The punching game in the arcade tent."

"Oh, that. No, the line was too long when we got there, and when I thought about it after finishing my turn at another game, it didn't seem to have gotten any shorter. Why do you bring it up?"

You briefly describe Lu-sensei's inspirational show against the machine, and how you tried your own hand at it.

Maybe your two showings started something, and that's why your Shadow didn't get a turn?

Anyway, seeing as how you called up your Dark Self when you weren't wearing your equipment, he doesn't have his "copies" - and that's probably just as well, because the Warmage's Robe, the Vambrace of Force Shielding, and your other gear would stand out in a bad way tonight. There's just too many witnesses out and about, as ill-considered as that is for their well-being, and if stories start going around about a sorcerer showing up on the very same night that a bunch of blood-rats disappear, people and things are going to start LOOKING for that sorcerer. The less your Shadow looks like you for this outing, the better.

He should probably try to avoid using martial arts, too, or at least under any circumstances that might leave witnesses. After all the years Lu-sensei has lived in Sunnydale, all the students he's taught, and some of the hints dropped in conversation about his dealings with the nightlife, you have the distinct impression that the Five Elements Style is pretty well-known on the local supernatural side. And you have yet to meet any other sorcerers in the school, so any attention tonight's hunt draws to the dojo would invariably fall on you.

Keeping all of that in mind, you consider the matter of enhancements. While your Shadow will have to handle his own non-magical boosts, you can cast the various buff spells for him, saving him mana for use elsewhere. Shadow Alex also notes that he's got another ten uses of Adjustable Polymorph in the tank, so you don't need to give him a new physical disguise. Shadow Briar effectively ended the spell on herself when she returned to her normal form earlier, but that's fine; in a combat scenario, being fairy-sized is more advantageous to her preferred role.

As a precaution, you remind yourself to leave a space for a Spell of Invisibility, so Shadow Alex can duck out of the Harris house without drawing attention from the neighbors. Aside from that, though...

And once you're done with that...


You and your Shadow sort through your options, deciding that sending him and his partner out with some backup would be wise, but having a bit of an issue deciding what sort of backup would be best.

As much fun as you and your Shadow had "summoning" a zombie once before, they're too slow and weak to be much use hunting vampires, and you'd be a bit concerned about the possibility of friendly fire besides. Zombies don't share any of the weaknesses SPECIFIC to demonic vampires, but they're just as vulnerable to anti-undead measures in GENERAL, if not more so.

The common Poe isn't all that tough, and corpse-demons are just magical and unholy enough that they might be able to hit the ghosts. Plus, most of the threat a typical Poe poses to the living is BECAUSE they're the living; ghost-fire, a specter's chilling touch, and other manifestations of the essence of undeath wouldn't do much if any good against the walking dead.

Wizzrobes could bring some extra firepower to the table, but they're squishy spellcasters to begin with, and the Spell of Shadow Conjuration you were thinking of using to generate your reinforcements to avoid possible corruption issues would make them more fragile than usual.

Also, while it's vaguely blasphemous to suggest it, in this particular instance, there is such a thing as too much firepower.

Blasphemy!

After all, if your Shadow STARTS the evening by causing a panic among the local populace, that's just going to make it harder for him to hunt down vampires the rest of the night, or however long he chooses to stay out there. It's easier to conceal one quick casting of Scorching Ray here and an overcast Ray of Positive Energy there than it would be to hide three or four of the things going off at once - doubly so when you're not sure if mock-Wizzrobes would be able to hide their energies that well - to say nothing of how difficult it would be to cover a Fireball going off.

The Sunnydale Police and Fire Departments are undoubtedly keeping at least a token eye and ear open for the possibility of "unauthorized fireworks displays," and if THEY start looking for the culprit, it could get troublesome for your Dark Self.

...

...

And this is what we call "planning ahead."

You eventually settle on bringing a couple of Wallmasters along to provide crowd control. They just worked out so well in Silbern, you...

...hmmm.

Maybe you'd better add a Spell of Mind Blank to those, just on the off-chance that the Quincy Grandmaster is still looking for them.

As you're discussing the spells, however, Shadow Briar points out a couple of issues.

For one, she would personally rather not be embiggened again for a fight. She's just much more comfortable providing overwatch, aerial recon, and spot healing, and being large doesn't really help her do any of that.

On another point...

"If you summon a couple of Wallmasters and make all of us invisible AND mind blanked, how exactly are we all supposed to coordinate with each other?"

...

Um. That... could be an issue, now that she mentions it.

The last time your Dark Self unleashed invisible, mind-blanked, giant severed hands on his enemies, they had instructions to spread out and wreak havoc on part of a fortress that was full of acceptable targets. This time around, he'll be using them for close support in direct combat, which is not really going to work if he and they can't perceive each other.

The simplest method would be to make the invisibility on Shadow Alex strictly temporary, so his helpers would be able to see him and adjust their movements accordingly. Another would be not to make your Shadow Conjured helpers invisible, but that just SCREAMS "bad idea" where animated undead hands the size of human beings are involved.

Perhaps there's another way?


You decide to keep things simple, leaving your Dark Self out of the Greater Spell of Invisibility that you will cast on the Wallmasters. A short-lived (Lesser) Spell of Invisibility will be enough to get him out of the house, and after that, the Greater Spell to Hide From Undead will give him equivalent stealth against the vampires that are the intended targets of tonight's outing.

With that settled, you get on with the spellcasting, calling up a few wooden spears and a "Roman-style" short sword for your Shadow to use. And if the former take some cues from the spears you used to hunt boar on Bali Ha'i, well, you're sure Shadow Alex doesn't want to get rushed by an angry corpse-demon any more than you wanted to be trampled and gored by several hundred pounds of angry, unprocessed pork.

While you're putting together a small arsenal, Shadow Alex casts an Extended Spell of Shadow Conjuration twice, calling up a pair of Wallmasters that are visibly more darkly grey-skinned and just generally creepier than the usual variety.

A fairly extensive round of spell application follows, most of the magic being your work, although Shadow Alex contributes a few spells of his own: he HAS to be the one to cast the Spell of Foresight on himself for it to work properly; and it's a little more efficient for him to cast the Spells of Divine Power and Persistent Vigor upon himself and his familiar. Your mana expenditure ends up high enough as it is, and you DO want to be in good shape for tomorrow's work.

A mildly amusing scene develops when you cast the Greater Spell to Hide From the Undead on the four illusory entities, causing the Shadow Wallmasters to jump in shock as, from their bizarre perspective, their creator, his partner, and their own counterpart all seem to disappear. You briefly have the weirdest feeling that the Shadow Conjurations are trying to glare and shout at you, before one of them flinches in shock from Shadow Alex placing a hand on one of its fingers.

Said "flinch" involves the finger in question flicking, like you might if a bug tried to crawl on you. Fortunately, Shadow Alex is able to roll with the force, and had warned his creations ahead of time not to overreact to his vanishing, so no harm is done.

Though it does take a few more such attempts before both of the giant hands can "see" their maker, and each other. They seem... clingy... for a while after that, at least until your Greater Spell of Invisibility causes them to vanish from YOUR sight.

On a side note, Wallmasters with the power of actual FLIGHT, as opposed to just their weird levitating trick, are really no less unsettling to look at. Rather the opposite, and you expect Link and the Wandenreich would all be screaming if they could see what you've done here tonight.

You can't honestly say that you'd blame them.

Still, once you have all the spells in place, Shadow Alex shifts guises and leads the mostly invisible four-Shadow convoy out of your Mirror Hideaway, upstairs, and to the front door, which he opens to allow his minions outside, giving them orders to travel to the end of the street and wait for him to appear there.

There is some affirmative thumping as the Wallmasters move out, accompanied by a "Tally ho!" from the invisible faux-fairy in the room.

Shadow Alex nods to you, casts a minor Spell of Illusion on himself, and exits the house.

Your father, who was watching this from the living room, asks, "Do I want to know what sort of invisible monsters you just unleashed on the town, Alex?"

"But if it makes you feel any better, they're only going after the vampires," you add.

Tony considers that, and it does indeed seem to brighten his evening.

As for you, you've got a couple hours left until bedtime, and maybe an hour or two - or more - beyond that while you wait up for Batreaux, and perhaps even a status report from your Shadow.

You decide to spend it reading.


"Big giant hands."

"Big giant hands, Dad," you reply.

Your father takes that on board. "'Big giant hands'," he repeats.

You nod.

"Which are invisible."

You nod again.

"...how giant are we talking about, here?"

"One of them could wrap its fingers all the way around me pretty easily, or pick you up without too much trouble."

...

"...but wait, how do they even move, then?"

"They can normally levitate, but these ones are properly flying."

...

"So, I'm picturing Thing, from the Addams Family," Tony finally says. "Only really big, invisible, and flying. Is that about right?"

Judging from the look on his face, it's probably for the best that you not bring up how corpse-like the flesh of Wallmasters normally looks, much less these particular Shadow-based mimics. Your father's troubled enough by whatever picture his imagination has already painted.

But your mention of them being aimed at the vampires definitely helps.

With your troops deployed, you crack open Volume Seven of Twentieth Century Sorcery, intent on pushing through to the end in the next few hours.

The first hour passes without issue.

About fifteen minutes into the second hour, however, your reading is interrupted as you catch the faint sounds of sirens somewhere in the distance.

The sirens of a fire engine, to be specific.

Your mother is long since in bed, but your father is still up, sitting before the television watching late-night news in that stubbornly semi-wakeful state that typically precedes the admission that it's time to go to sleep. Muttering something to himself, he gets up and heads to the living room window, looking out for a moment - but the truck involved (and from the noise, it's only the one) doesn't come any closer to your place.

You give it ten minutes, but no Sending arrives. Seeing as how the Heart of Courage has continued to thrum as steadily since the Shadows left the house tonight as it has all the rest of the day, you assume they must still be in one piece, if indeed they were involved in whatever has called out the fire department.

Not long after that, your Magic Cellphone rings.

"Hello?"

"-this thing working? Hello? HELLO?"

Ah, it's Batreaux.


"Where have you been, young man?"

To your understanding, this is one of the traditional responses to someone under your authority calling in the middle of the night, particularly after said person has dropped out of contact without notice for several hours. And while you aren't utterly bound to tradition, you like to think you're respectful of it.

At the very least, you're not above paying it lip service when doing so is amusing.

"Oh, good, it's working," Batreaux replies with a sigh of relief. "And to answer your question, it is something of a tale, albeit one which it is probably best I not get into in public. Or at least not THIS public," he adds, as the background noise coming over the line grows a bit louder for a brief moment.

It's not terribly loud, by any measure, but you can make out the sounds of a fairly crowded room: the murmur of voices engaged in a dozen different conversations, punctuated by the occasional laugh; the dull clink of glasses being set on table-tops; the clack of a pool table in use; music played just low enough that you can't make out the words over the other noises in the place; and somewhere not too far from Batreaux, the electronic buzzing, beeping, and booping of an arcade game.

You've never heard that particular collection of sounds in person, but when you compare it to some things you've seen on TV...

"Are you in a BAR?"

"Yes," he replies simply.

The straightforward reply takes you aback for a moment. "Well, then; I suppose you're not calling about bail..."

"No, or at least not for myself."

"You heard the fire trucks, then."

"Indeed, and it struck me that checking in might be prudent."

"Well," you say, "I'm at home with the rest of my family-"

"Did you enjoy the day's festivities?" Batreaux inquires.

"They were well-received all around," you admit. "Yourself?"

"It was a MOST interesting experience, so very much like home and yet so very different. I thank you again for the invitation."

"You're welcome. As I was saying, the family's home, and everybody else was seen home safely," - some minor Divination rituals settled your mind on that point - "but my Shadow went out again about an hour and a half ago."

"Ah," Batreaux says lightly. "Business, or pleasure?"

"Hunting corpse-demons, with an eye towards setting them on fire."

"So, both."

That is a good way of putting it, yes.

"Have you heard from him since he left?"

"Not yet, at least, but from what I can tell, he's doing fine."

Batreaux takes that onboard with a, "Hmmm."

Keeping in mind that Batreaux is using a public phone, and so shouldn't discuss anything sensitive, is there anything you want to ask him?


"Backing up a bit," you say then. "When you said you weren't calling about bail for yourself...?"

"Merely making certain that my assistance in that capacity on behalf of another would not be required!" Batreaux assures you with a lighter laugh than he usually uses.

You suspect you're not the only one being mindful of what is said in this conversation, or how. Which is to be expected; you've discussed the topic with your tutor often enough, you'd hate to think his memory was going in his old age.

In any case, with no truly outstanding questions, you check to see if Batreaux plans to return to your place before dawn-

"I was not planning to, no. The night is young, and it's been a long time indeed since I had a chance to celebrate a noble cause with my distant cousins!"

-give him your mystically-binding preemptive permission to dismiss himself if he feels the need-

"It is appreciated."

-and add a final wish for him to have a good night, and keep one eye peeled for any further disturbances of an incendiary nature.

"I most certainly shall. Rest well."

And with that, you mutually end the call.

You stay up a little past midnight, in order to finish Volume Seven, but once that's done and no further calls prove forthcoming, be they mundane or mystical, you decide to call it a night.

You awaken fully rested, and shortly notice that the calling spell that was holding Batreaux on Earth is still going strong, while the Heart of Courage likewise continues to register as "in use." Positive signs? Signs of impending doom? You can't yet be sure.

You go through your morning routine, and head downstairs for breakfast-

!

-which is when a casual glance into the backyard reveals a peculiar sight.

Specifically, about ten feet of the length of the garden hose is standing upright, almost directly against the rear wall of the house. When you get closer and look up, you see that the end of the hose sort of disappears into thin air.

...

This is some improvised Rope Trick, isn't it?

Fortunately, while dawn is on the horizon, the sun has not yet risen far enough for anybody to have noticed the hanging hose unless they were in your backyard, capable of distinguishing dark green in the middle of the night, and looking closely enough to see that it wasn't a piece of siding or something. And if anybody was paying THAT much attention to you and yours, you don't think they would have stopped at merely noting a gravity-defying watering tool.


For a moment, you stand there in the dining room, slowly looking from the window and the hose hanging outside it, to the kitchen, and then back again.

Your stomach rumbles, and you think of waffles...

...and then, with great reluctance and additional growls of protest from the beast, you turn towards the back door, make sure no one and nothing is visible outside, and let yourself out into the yard.

Moblin comes trotting along, follows you outside-

!

-and then suddenly stops and hunkers down, growling in the direction of the hose.

Something large and invisible seems to move along the grass - something that appears to have five "limbs", unless your eyes deceive you. If it were any dimmer out here and the grass any shorter, you might be more inclined to think you were seeing things, but as it is, you're fairly confident this is one of the Shadow Wallmasters.

On a side note, the yard may be due for a mow.

"Easy, Moblin," you tell your dog. Turning to the unseen presence, you say, "Tap once for no, twice for yes, three times for maybe. Understood?"

The depressions in the grass shift around for a moment, and then something softly thumps against the back wall of the house two times in succession - probably the index finger, judging by which of the spots on the lawn disappeared.

Moblin rumbles warningly, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Do you have orders to let me pass?"

Thump, thump.

"Do you have orders to let my dog pass?"

Thump.

Ah.

It takes a little doing to convince Moblin to go back inside without you; fortunately, Briar is on hand, and once she's assured him that she'll stick with you and keep you out of trouble, your dog yields.

Closing the door behind him, you walk over to the hanging hose, give it an experimental tug to make sure that it won't suddenly "pull free" when you put your weight on it, and then start climbing.

Gained Climbing E++

The extradimensional space created by the Spell of the Rope Trick is similar to that of the Mirror Hideaway in that it's fairly small, but it's also very distinct from that spell. While hauling your weight up the "rope" is more of a hassle in one regard, crossing the actual threshold results in nothing but a sense of the difference in atmospheric conditions on either side: the outside is cool and damp with the morning dew; and the inside is warm, dry, and has that particular feel of a confined space.

Certainly, there is nothing like the sensation of razors sliding across your flesh.

Also, once you're inside, you find that there aren't really walls, floor, or ceiling, just a vaguely defined space-within-space filled with a faintly greyish aura which casts no actual light. The only sources of illumination present are the dawn's light beaming through the "window" that the rope hangs through, and the glow of the two fairies in the chamber, one of which is dimmed in sleep.

You feel a frisson of mischievous glee through the familiar bond, but it quickly turns to puzzlement and then annoyance. Looking at Briar, you find her staring at the space where her Shadow is... not to be seen, that Greater Spell of Invisibility still doing its job. It's not impossible to tell where she is - she's a very small source of very faint light - but she appears to be floating in mid-air somehow - a Spell of Levitation, maybe? The Mind Blank makes it impossible to be sure - which means it would be hard to tell where to aim any amusing wake-up calls for proper effect.

Then your partner turns her attention to YOUR Dark Self, puckish impulses once again coming to the fore.

"Wait for it," you murmur, as you quietly walk over to check on your doppelganger.

"Do I have to?" comes the reply. But she heeds your request.

Looking at him, Shadow Alex doesn't appear to have been injured during his outing. There's no rips in his clothing, no stain of blood, ash, or other substances, and no scent of anything except a young human boy. Supernaturally, of course, you can't sense anything, his Spell of Mind Blank clearly still at work - and if THAT one is still going, there's a decent chance that a lot of the others might still be up as well. Enough time has passed for the Spell of Foresight to have lapsed thrice over, if Shadow Alex even bothered to re-cast it that many times.

On that note, you probably shouldn't startle him awake, as he might come up swinging. Then again, you're perfectly capable of getting rid of those enhancement spells...


On second thought, nah, the amusement value of the prank isn't really worth the potential trouble-

"Aw, come on."

-sorry, but no.

Keeping close to the entryway - and one eye on your partner - you clear your throat.

Shadow Alex doesn't react.

You cough a little louder.

That gets a twitch.

"Hey, you awake?"

...

"Either that, or I'm having a bad dream," your Shadow says, finally opening one eye. "What time is it?"

"Still shy of six in the morning. I was just coming downstairs to have breakfast when I spotted your 'rope'. Nice adaptation of available materials, by the way."

"Thanks, I was rather proud of it."

"What time did you get back, anyway?"

"Somewhere around two. Seeing as how all the lights were off, I figured it'd be easier all around if I set up outside for the night, rather than try to get your attention getting inside."

"Instead of just casting Knock, or maybe Dimension Door?"

He shakes his head. "I cast enough magic last night that I wasn't sure about my odds of hiding a fourth-circle spell, even if I did cut down the range, and it occurred to me that we've never tried teleporting into the house while metaphysically covered with a layer of Hellmouth crud, so I couldn't rule out the possibility that Ambrose's ward might have bounced me, or something equally annoying."

You consider that, nodding slowly. There isn't a true anti-teleportation component to the ward, as far as you're aware, but given it's meant to keep out demonic taint, it might well react poorly to the sudden appearance of a trans-dimensional traveler with a layer of spiritual ick clinging to them. Might be something to discuss with the old meddler, next time you speak with him.

"And the Knock Spell?"

He says nothing.

You nod. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"It was two in the morning, and when have we actually USED that spell outside of practice?"

You honestly can't recall.

Long-term memory issues aside, are there any questions you'd like to ask Shadow Alex before he downloads a copy of last night's events for you? A general summary, highlights to look for when you assimilate the information, significant events in need of your attention, or something like that?


"Okay, quick questions before you pass on the memories."

"Go."

"First, did you kill anything other than corpse-demons?"

"Yes."

"Types and numbers?" you inquire further.

"We found a patch of some kind of predatory demonic grass growing in Radcliffe Park," he reports. "Not all that big, but from the bones, it had already killed a lot of rodents and small reptiles, plus a couple of birds, and it was working on strangling or crushing somebody's cat. I figured it was better not to let that get any bigger, so I cut the cat loose and had Briar heal it, while I splashed some acid on the blades and then dug up the roots for the same treatment."

"She didn't complain about the cat?" you wonder.

"Oh, plenty, but it was exhausted and scratched up badly enough that she honestly felt sorry for it." Shadow shrugs. "We passed through Shady Hill Cemetary a little while after that, and found a pair of corpse-demons digging up one of the recent graves. That struck me as a little curious-"

You nod. Your slog through Vampyr gave you a decent read on the typical habits of the common undead hemophage, and while they'll lair in mausoleums and larger tombs, the only time they normally have anything to do with a grave is when they're clawing their way free of one as newly-risen spawn.

"-so I held off on the fiery doom and listened in on their complaining. Evidently their sire turned someone about a week ago, got upset that the fledgling was 'sleeping in', and sent those two to wake him up and drag him home. Only when they finally got the grave dug out, they found out something else had beaten them to it."

"What sort of 'something'?"

"A swarm of weird bugs. They looked like a cross between centipedes and worms, only they had tentacles all around their mouths and were dripping slime-"

Because of COURSE they would.

"-and they just came boiling out of the coffin when the vamps cracked it open," your Shadow continues, making a disturbed face. "There must have been fifty of the things, easily, all around a foot long-"

"Ugh," Briar groans.

"-and they made a pretty good attempt at eating the corpse-demons alive, so to speak." Your Dark Self shrugs then. "I decided to be merciful and introduced the lot of them to Burning Hands. When I checked on the grave, the newbie vamp was technically still in it."

"Do I even want to know?" you sigh.

"The bugs had eaten a lot of him," Shadow admits. "Just not enough, and not the right parts, to kill him, which... I'm not sure if that was instinct, or if the things KNEW not to dust the parasite, somehow, but it's disturbing either way. Not the least because it made me feel sorry for a corpse-demon." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I put what was left of the vampire out of its misery, and when the dust settled, I could see that the bottom of the box had a hole punched through it, about the size of my then-adult-sized fist."

So that's undoubtedly how the worm-things got into the coffin, though whether they did that in the form your Shadow saw, or as eggs or embryos being implanted by a parent organism, is another question.

Shadow Alex doesn't mention any other encounters of note, so you state your next question: "Did you have any significant problems?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. Between the Greater Spell to Hide From Undead and the Spell of Flight, the corpse-demons literally never saw me coming, and complete surprise on top of how good we are at Fire Elementalism meant most of them went down to a single Scorching Ray or a gout of Burning Hands. Plus, the majority of the ones I went after were in small enough groups that I could either wipe them out with one casting, or deal with the survivors handily enough. That said," he adds, giving you a serious look, "if I hadn't been buffed to high heaven and brought backup..."

You nod, taking the cautionary reminder to heart. Then, clapping your hands, you ask your final question: "So, any preferences for breakfast? Dibs on the waffles, by the way."

Shadow Alex snorts, but answers, "If there's enough left, I could go for waffles. If not... toast and some island bacon would be a nice way to end the night."

"Alright. But before you zap me, one last question: what did you do that brought the fire trucks out?"

"That wasn't me," your Shadow defends himself.

You squint suspiciously.

"Seriously," Shadow Alex says, "it wasn't. I was still at Restfield when I heard the sirens, they were halfway across town."

...huh. From what you can tell, he seems to be telling the truth.


While you don't precisely object to the notion of there being a "natural" predator for corpse-demons - even if it does utilize a rather horrifying hunting-slash-reproductive method - the idea that there is something lurking underground in Sunnydale, going around and feeding upon and/or laying eggs in the contents of the many, many coffins in the twelve cemeteries, is concerning for other reasons.

With that in mind, you suggest that your Dark Self employ the Spell to Know the Enemy to try and figure out what these worm-things are.

He nods, invokes the spell... and then frowns.

"Maybe a relative of the carrion crawler?" Shadow Alex suggests uncertainly.

That is a... less assured answer than you were expecting to hear. "What makes you say that?"

"A few things. Their being too small is pretty easily explained by their being young, but the things I saw had too many legs and too much armor to be the usual variety. And carrion crawlers aren't burrowers, or at least not good enough to dig into a buried coffin, whether from above or below."

...huh. Maybe some kind of demonic mutation, then?

With that out of the way, Shadow Alex goes ahead and passes on his memories of the night's events-

Gained Iron Stomach D++
Gained Xenology F+

-including the nasty bits about the giant worms. Because on the one hand, ugh, ick, but on the other, better that you deal with the revelation of that bit of nastiness here and now, than have your first experience with it in the field, where the distraction might cost you.

You do take a certain degree of satisfaction in the brief flashes of some thirty-plus corpse-demons lighting up like torches.

That part was fun to watch, yes.

Much to your surprise, Shadow Alex appears to have been telling the truth about the fire, or at least, you have a fleeting secondhand recollection of being among tombstones and then looking up in surprise at the sound of sirens.

You'll have to review that a bit more thoroughly at some point, but at the moment, your Dark Self seems to be off the hook.

Speaking of whom, while you sort out your new knowledge, Shadow Alex wakes up his partner-

"I'on'wanna."

"There's bacon and maybe waffles."

"Oooh, food!"

-and the four of you climb down the garden hose. After a quick look to make sure no one is around (still), Shadow Alex dismisses the Rope Trick, followed by the two invisible Shadow Wallmasters.

There may have been some (unseen) high-fiving going on at that point.

After that, breakfast.


There turn out to be enough waffles left in the freezer to go around.

"Praise the Goddesses, and pass the maple syrup," Shadow Alex intones.

But we didn't do anything...?

Accept the appreciation in the spirit it was given, sister.

Mmmm, maple syrup...

"Amen," you reply, handing over the bottle.

After the meal, you take an hour or so to meditate and sort out the better part of Shadow Alex's memory-download. You'll need a few nights' sleep to really assimilate everything, but since you've got some time to put towards speeding up the process, you see no reason to delay.

While you're doing that, the Dark Selves stick around, Shadow Briar so she can go back to sleep-

"Dispersing is not sleeping," she says in defense of her choice.

-and Shadow Alex to do some additional information-gathering. He mentions wanting to pokes around on Demons, Demons, Demons and other internet sites to see if he can get a better idea of what those worm-things were than "maybe carrion crawlers," and also that he's curious about what got the fire department called out around midnight - as well as what else might make the morning news.

You give him your blessing before settling into a trance set, and when you come out of it, you get your Shadow's update.

"I didn't find anything conclusive about the bugs," he begins. "A few info pages about carrion crawlers - they're another monster that made it into Dungeons and Dragons, by the way - and some known offshoots, but nothing that matched up to what I saw. Could be a new mutation, could be a different critter altogether, could just be a phase of their normal life-cycle that never made it into general knowledge."

You nod. It wouldn't be unusual if nobody tried to look too hard at how a particularly disgusting supernatural critter grew up, or for that matter, for anybody who DID try to have gotten eaten before they could publish.

"And in local news?" you venture.

"Morning edition of the Sunnydale Press" - your Shadow holds up the paper in question, open to the fourth page - "says somebody was playing with fireworks near the high school, and managed to start a fire in a nearby yard. Damage was confined to that property, mostly to the lawn and one of the trees, the police haven't named any suspects, and they will be investigating further."

You look the article over, but it's pretty short and genuinely doesn't have much else to say. Still, you're kind of impressed that the paper managed to run the story so soon after the fire happened, doubly so when it happened at night. You would have thought it would take longer.

Maybe the Press keeps a few demons on the payroll to cover after-dark events?

"Anyway," your Shadow says then, "seeing as how there's not much else to do for the moment, and we've got another eight hours before we can be in Japan without chasing people out of their beds, I thought I'd disperse. Unless you can think of anything I missed," he adds, with equal parts seriousness and sarcasm.

The thing that really comes to mind is if he's curious to speak with Batreaux again, as you note that the Spell of Planar Binding is still ticking along in the background.

Your Shadow considers that. "I am," he admits slowly, "but since I'll just learn the truth when you do..."

Yeah, there's that.

Is there anything else?

Speaking of Batreaux, Shadows, and Japan, who DO you plan to take with you on this trip, or else summon at Castle Shuzen to witness and potentially assist in Jasmine's temporary embodiment in the Urahara-made artificial body?


You thank your Shadow for his holiday efforts-

"I would be more than happy to make an annual tradition of it," he says. "Or even a regular thing. Easter, Halloween, Christmas, New Year's-"

*Poof*

"I was sleep-!" a fairy voice protests from somewhere.

*poof*

-and end the spell.

"Okay," Briar laughs, "that makes up for not getting to scare her awake."

You have to wonder if it's entirely healthy for Briar to be so keen to pull pranks on what is, effectively, herself.

"One, fairy; we pull pranks on everybody. Two, there's nobody who can annoy you quite as much as the people you live with, and who do you spend more time with than yourself?"

...

Anyway, it's getting on towards nine when Batreaux turns up at your front door, temporarily invisible. There is a bit of confusion there, but you get it sorted out without incident, and the two of you spend some time discussing the evening's events. For your part, you don't see any reason to hold back information about Shadow Alex's little adventure, and fill your sorcery tutor in on the details that you're still processing.

You also ask if he has any idea about mutant carrion crawlers, but Batreaux says he's never heard of the creatures.

You knew that they didn't appear in the bestiary included in the Hyrulean Holy Books, but you hadn't been sure if that was because the things were extinct there or if they'd never resided on that world at all. From what Batreaux is telling you, it's the latter case.

It's probably just as well. Considering how the Curse of Demise is linked to practically all of Hyrule's native monsters, something that went around feeding exclusively on their (un)dead corpses would probably cause the Curse's energies to be concentrated within itself - and you can't see THAT ending well for anybody.

On the matter of this afternoon's trip to Japan, Batreaux is quite willing to attend and provide whatever help he can, even if it's merely to distract a few young girls from the rather serious work going on.

"Though I suspect that only the youngest might be interested in playing a game of 'Scream As Loud As You Can'," he adds. "Perhaps the eldest. The other two are such SERIOUS young ladies..." Then he shakes his heads. "But, given the timing, I should likely return home, make what preparations are necessary, and then take another ENFORCED nap so as not to fall asleep at an awkward moment!"

...you'll just let him get on with that.

"UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!"

*Poof*

Taking stock of the time and your overall condition, you decide to go renew your Spell of Mind Blank. The magic required will be fully restored well before you have to leave.

Is there anything else you want to do in town today?


"VERY WELL!"

Batreaux begins his account at the point where the Shadows last saw him, as the police were escorting the two of them and the cold-cocked part-demon who'd had too much to drink down to the station. He admits to having dithered a bit about what to do next, having been separated from and a bit concerned about his local guides, before just shrugging and following the crowd to the fairgrounds. While the electronic attractions were rather outside your tutor's experience, the more "old-fashioned" attractions were otherwise.

You aren't too surprised to hear that Hyrule had its equivalent of carnival games way back in Batreaux's day. After all, contests of physical ability are a thing that happen even between animals, and the people of Hyrule - Hylians in particular - have enough in common with humans that a degree of similarity in their games and sports only makes sense.

Although, as ever, Hyrule finds a way to be-

"He threw PUMPKINS in the air for people to shoot?"

"SKYDIVING?"

"BOMBS as HAZARDS?"

-a bit over the top.

That said, hearing that they had mechanical rides so many centuries ago IS a bit of a surprise-

"A runaway MINECART?"

"So I was told," Batreaux says with a shrug. "I never actually saw it for myself. It was down on the Surface, and I had too many poor memories of that place to wish to return."

-although the hazardous nature of the "attraction" certainly fits.

Also, plenty of other such machines were developed in the ages after Batreaux passed into the realm of the Goddesses, and knowledge of them - as well as their actual makers - eventually followed.

Gained Hyrulean History E++

You need a moment to wrap your head around the idea of an amusement park in the gold-glowing afterlife, but once you do that, the notion of the ascended Hyruleans enjoying the attractions is no issue to accept.

There's always been something of a childish streak in those people.

In any case, when presented with the opportunity to experience Earth's version of fair rides, Batreaux took it without hesitation. You'd provided him some local currency for an equivalent value in Rupees-

-so he was able to cover the ticket prices readily enough.

"And then, when it came to that curious 'ferrous wheel'," your instructor notes, "there was something of a shortage of seats. The operator inquired if I would be willing to share space, and as a guest in your land, I felt it behooved me to be gracious."

"Is this when you met the lady Lu Tze mentioned?" Briar asks shrewdly.

Batreaux nods. "A Ms. Felicity Kendall-Corner."

Uh-oh. You recognize the second of those names, and normally associate it with another name which has a strong thematically similarity to the given name of the lady in question.

"'Kendall'," Briar repeats slowly. "Alex, isn't that the name of one of your classmates?"

"Uh-huh," you sigh.

"The pushy blonde with the thing for unicorns?"

"Yup."

The two of you trade glances, and then look to Batreaux.

"So, Bats," Briar says sweetly. "How was your date?"

"It was... interesting," Batreaux replies. "The young lady was happy to show me around and introduce me to a number of people, including Miss Chase's parents. I believe I also met the classmate you referred to, if only briefly - Harmony Kendall, was it?"

You nod. "What's the relationship there, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Ms. Kendall-Corner is the sister of Miss Kendall's father," you are informed. "She mentioned something about keeping her maiden name to be modern, and keeping her ex-husband's name because it sounded more impressive - and also to make a point to his, ahem, girlfriend. Both of whom I also met, in passing."

"...got a bit nasty there, did it?" Briar guesses.

"There were WORDS exchanged," Batreaux agrees. "Fortunately, I was able to convince them to separate and move along before it came to anything worse. The evening rather improved from there."

Batreaux admits to having dinner and a lengthy conversation with Ms. Kendall-Corner about "various topics," before the fireworks display. After that, he saw her safely home and proceeded to explore Sunnydale's night-life on his own.

Your tutor makes a point of NOT telling you which establishment he ended up making that phonecall from, noting that, between alcohol, demons, and other features of the place, you are still much too young to go there. He is perfectly happy to describe the various demonic breeds that he saw, although admits to only recognizing a small number.

"We are a LONG way from Hyrule, and farther still from the demonic realm I called home in my youth," he notes.

Shortly after that, the tale ends, and Batreaux goes on his way.


Lost $200
Gained 2 Green Rupees

After a couple hours' worth of modest effort in your workshop, lunch, a bit more work, and then some time playing with Zelda, it's reached the point where you can travel to Japan and arrive at a reasonable hour. Stepping into your Mirror Hideaway and temporarily disguising yourself once again, you open a Gate to the Tokyo Tower, spare a quick "Good morning" for the kami as you walk past the shrine-

The miko on duty spares you a puzzled frown and a polite wave, obviously having no idea who you are.

-and then execute a relatively short-range teleport to Karakura.

You don't have any colorful encounters on the way to Urahara Shop this morning, but as you turn the corner that leads to the store, you begin to think that this may be because the universe decided to focus its efforts.

When you, Urahara, and Issa spoke the other day, the Shuzen patriarch insisted on providing transport. It wasn't said out loud, but you got the impression he was offering out of one-part hospitality, one-part dominance via display of wealth, and one-part not entirely trusting the Shinigami to know how to get to his family's residence from where they're based.

Urahara seemed to catch that, and accepted the offer in the same spirit, negotiating a few helping hands out of Issa in exchange.

You'd been expecting the van or moving truck equivalent of the Shuzen cars, but instead, a familiar bus is parked on the curb in front of the shop, with Tessai and a couple members of the Shuzen security force loading boxes while Urahara and the Bus Driver stand around, one with a fan in hand and the other a smoking cigar, both offering "helpful" commentary.

There's a couple other guys in suits stationed about, keeping an eye on the area, and they both notice and acknowledge your approach with professional nods before going back to their silent watch.

"Good morning!" the Bus Driver greets you cheerfully. "Lovely day for a bit of blasphemy against the natural order, isn't it?"


"It's only blasphemy if a god says so."

"And I know three who say otherwise," you conclude.

One.

Two.

Three!

You nod.

The Bus Driver chuckles and salutes you with his cigar. "Touché."

You hold on to your altered form for a while longer, making use of your adult size and strength to help finish loading the bus's side-mounted storage. While there's a fair amount of stuff to be moved, four pairs of hands, more-than-human muscle power, and a little bit of magic make the job go quickly; the real delay is making sure that none of the more delicate stuff gets jostled around too much, and that it's all strapped down and tucked away tightly to keep it from shifting in transit.

Maybe ten minutes after your arrival, Tessai declares the work completed to his satisfaction, and the Bus Driver steps in to close and lock the luggage compartment. Urahara mirrors that by closing up his shop, putting a small sign on the door for the sake of any would-be customers who show up today.

As everyone climbs aboard the bus, you take a moment to glance up and down the street, wondering idly what Urahara's neighbors are making of all of this. Guys built and dressed like the Shuzens' security personnel don't usually show up at corner stores like this or haul a bunch of boxes around at the behest of the owners, nor are they typically associated with private chartered buses. In turn, some of the things Urahara and Tessai have said suggest that, while they aren't precisely trapped here in Karakura, they also don't get out much.

Then there's all the boxes. While you know that they hold a bunch of spirit-tech, they're nondescript enough that an uninformed observer would have no clue as to the nature of the contents, leaving their imagination to fill in the blanks - and who knows where that sort of speculation might end up.

"Problem, partner?" Briar asks.

"Just wondering if Urahara Shop is going to get a visit from the police after this," you reply, as you step aboard the bus.

"Not to worry!" Urahara declares from one of the front seats, fan waving. "We're simply taking some merchandise along to a meeting with prospective new business associate, to help illustrate the kind and quality of goods and services that Urahara Shop prides itself on providing."

You trade glances with Briar.

Then you look around at the transformed monsters.

Then you look back at the two Shinigami.

The door slides shut as you take your seat.

"Everybody strap in and hold on for your afterlives," the Bus Driver declares with his usual dark glee. "And please," he adds a bit more seriously, sparing you a quick glance, "no spellcasting while the vehicle is in extra-dimensional transit."

You nod back, even as most of the other passengers turn to regard you with some surprise and wariness.

"That's a new one," one of the youkai murmurs.

"Something you'd like to tell us, Alex?" Urahara wonders.

You spend the next ten minutes or so driving along the streets of Karakura, the Bus Driver giving off that particular sense of a man looking for something whose location he's not quite sure of. In your past encounters with the Youkai Academy Bus, you've noticed that its teleportation mechanism seems to be linked to tunnels, or perhaps to the shadows or concepts of "concealment" and "obscurity" they provide, so that's probably it.

You aren't so familiar with Karakura that you can point out an underpass off the top of your head, but after some directions from Urahara, a bit of yelling at the morning traffic, and one U-turn, the bus drives under one road in Karakura, and suddenly emerges from a familiar tunnel out in the countryside.

You glance at Urahara again, but surprisingly, he hasn't palmed any of his weird little scanning devices or cast one of those kido spells to try and analyze the bus's ability to teleport. That said, he does appear to not be paying quite as much attention to his physical surroundings as normal, as though a part of his mind was focused on some other, more esoteric sense than sight or hearing.

As long as he's not trying to lock down the location of Castle Shuzen, you wish him luck in his private scientific analysis.

When the bus crosses the border of the demiplane, you see both Shinigami start slightly as the ambient levels of youki spike. Not long after that-

"End of the line," the Bus Driver declares ghoulishly. "Now, get that junk off my bus, will you?"

-you have arrived.

...at least at the outer gatehouse. Getting everything through security and up to the castle proper takes somewhat longer, particularly when the little spirit pops up to say hello-

"Fascinating," Urahara and Tessai declare in unison.

-and promptly dives for cover behind you.


"Alright, but if you get arrested, I will laugh."

"Like they'd ever catch me," Urahara huffs.

"I managed to catch the bus while in transit. It was an interesting experience for everyone involved."

Not surprisingly, the moment the words 'catch the bus while in transit' cross your lips, Urahara starts to frown.

"When you say you 'caught the bus in transit'," he begins slowly.

"Like I said, it was an interesting experience."

"Yeah, heart attacks all around," the Bus Driver agrees cheerfully.

...you wonder, idly, if he got those indents you left in the roof out, or indeed, if he even found them.

You reach the Shuzen domain, and while the guards are unloading the bus, you provide cover for the spirit against the scientific curiosity of the two Shinigami - and not just physical cover, at that. You point out that this isn't what they're here for, that they'll have to take up the prospect of study with the home-owners, and oh look, security wants to investigate their luggage-

That last one seems to finally do the trick in getting Urahara and Tessai to direct their attention elsewhere, but you don't believe for a moment that they'll have forgotten.

Maybe it might be best for the little spirit to make itself scarce?

It takes almost twenty minutes to make the trip through security, due to the considerable amount of luggage there is to go through and the thoroughness that the searchers put into their work. While you might have expected Urahara to grumble about the delay - and Tessai to make like a mountain as he so often does - the display of professionalism from the guards seems to strike a chord with the two Shinigami, who are nothing but patient and helpful-

"Please be careful, that one's delicate!" Urahara calls.

-okay, MOSTLY patient and helpful, for the duration.

Fortunately, there are enough vehicles waiting to move everything in short order, and the folks standing watch at the gatehouse don't attempt to double-check, instead just waving each car through as it arrives.

Urahara and Tessai take the last car up, of course, but as for yourself...


You murmur your thoughts to the place-spirit while the Shinigami are distracted by the security personnel starting to open up the various boxes, bags, and bins they brought along.

Shining eyes look at you for a moment, then turn to regard the two unfamiliar beings.

When it looks up at you again, the spirit nods, curling its right arm as if making a muscle.

You think the little one is saying that it will be strong, or brave.

D'aww.

The fact that it continues to keep you between its avatar and the two reapers might be taken as contrary to that declaration, but you figure it's just a sensible precaution.

Cute AND wise? I approve.

It'll be a different story when Urahara and Tessai start setting everything up, and you need to be aware of which of their instruments you should avoid using magic or other energies around - or conversely, which ones you'll NEED to throw energy at, to help them calibrate everything - but right here and now, there's no real need for you to stick around. The security folks have the situation and the equipment well in hand, and the Shinigami exiles are behaving themselves.

There is Science on the line, after all. If they offend their hosts, they won't get the chance to perform a ground-breaking experiment, and that would simply never do.

Letting the adults around you know of your decision, you head up to the castle proper.

Issa is there to greet you in the front hall - something of a rarity in your visits, as his work so often takes him away from home, but you figure there wasn't much chance of him missing something so important to one of his daughters.

On that note...

"I hope you have a good explanation for missing Kahlua's birthday," he warns with a hint of ominousness.

"I do, sir. It involves the Memorians, a cult of undead demonic werewolves, and pulling a fast one on the Einzbern family."

Despite himself, Issa looks interested.

"Before that, I would like to ask your permission-"

For some reason, a look of wariness crosses the man's face.

"-to summon some of my allies to observe and potentially assist with the upcoming... event."

And now he looks relieved. "Which allies?"

"Just Batreaux, my Shadow, and Briar's Shadow. We probably won't NEED them, but better to have and not need and all that."

Issa nods. "You have my permission, then."

You nod and proceed to call up the Dark Selves-

*Poof*

"He was on a DATE with HARMONY'S aunt?" Shadow Alex exclaims in dismay.

"Hey," Shadow Briar says. "Her big sister isn't that bad, right?"

"She's tolerable, I suppose-"

"So, maybe her aunt is a less annoying person, too?"

"She could hardly be WORSE..."

-and then head back outside to set up the summoning circle for Batreaux.

Urahara and Tessai have arrived with the last of their luggage as you are reaching the end of the ritual, and linger amid the dramatic pocket wind-and-thunder storm that the magic has stirred up as you call your DARK MASTER back into the world.

"I RETURN!"

*Kraka-THOOM!*

"Oooo, nice!"

"No, Manager."

"Aw, but Tessai-"

"We don't have the budget."

If anyone in the Castle wasn't already aware of your arrival, Batreaux's usual summoning spectacle has alerted them. Gyokuro and her daughters both turn up in short order-

"You missed my party," Kahlua pouts.

"The explanation involves demonic violence, if you're interested."

"...this had better be good, mister."

-while Akasha, Moka, and Akua remain absent.

Introductions are made-

"You look shady," Kokoa says bluntly, giving Urahara a flatly unimpressed look.

"Why do they always say that?" he sighs.

"Because it's true?" Briar offers.

-and the two new guests directed to the chamber that has been cleared out for them to set up in. The amount of space required for the two spiritual scientists to set up in was one of the details Urahara and Issa discussed over the phone the other day, and the room in question is about twenty feet to a side, giving plenty of space even with all of the spirit-tech luggage that's been placed here. It helps that most of whatever furnishings were in here before have been removed - you can see a couple of empty hangers on the walls where portraits or other artwork must have been hanging - down to and including the carpet. Only a couple of tables and a reclined bed that looks like it could have come from a hospital remain.

Checking the room over with a sensor he had in his pocket, Urahara declares it suitable, adding that he and Tessai will need a couple of hours to get everything set up - or maybe somewhat less, with help from you and/or your summoned associates.


There isn't much assistance you could provide to Urahara right now that Batreaux and Shadow Alex aren't capable of giving in your stead, and Shadow Alex's involvement with the set-up of the... hopefully not TOO mad scientist's workshop, means you can bow out and still learn just about everything you would have been likely to if you'd stayed.

You really don't expect Urahara to start giving your Shadow swordsmanship lessons in the middle of this, for example.

"Hang on!" Shadow Briar calls, zipping over to... Kokoa? And... Thistle, oh dear. "I should get to know my Original's little sister better," the Dark Self continues, as she settles on one side of said fairy.

"You know what?" Briar comments, as she flies over to join the other two atop Kokoa's head. "You're absolutely right; you SHOULD get to know Thistle better."

"Oh, Goddesses, no."

There isn't all that much room atop the red peak of Mount Kokoa, but the fairies manage to avoid looking like any of them are about to get shoved off to one side or the other, if only by dint of the older sister and her Shadow crowding the younger one.

"No bullying my partner," Kokoa says flatly, as she tries to glare up at the other two fairies.

"This isn't bullying," one Briar replies.

"It's family bonding!" the other concludes.

It says something that even YOU aren't quite sure which of them speaks each time.

Kokoa's only answer is a sound, not quite a growl, of suspicion.

"So," you quickly interrupt, "concerning my absence from recent festivities, it is a tale of adventure and excitement, of oaths fulfilled, honor redeemed, and treachery most foul receiving its long-overdue and well-earned punishment-"

"Is there a lot of fighting?" Kokoa asks eagerly, fairy matters abruptly forgotten.

"There is," you admit, as your group moves into one of the sitting rooms, "but before I begin the telling, should we wait for any others who might be interested in hearing it?"

Kokoa and Kahlua trade glances. Above them, their parents mirror the movement - or perhaps it's the other way around?

"A distraction might be just the thing she needs," Issa decides, moving over to the intercom.

While Issa's informing the absent half of his family of the entertainment, you're planning how to deliver it.


They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and also that seeing is believing - and there were some parts of the reclamation of the Memorian Base that you aren't entirely certain you could do justice to with words alone, plus at least one where you don't really want to TRY.

Seriously, that giant rotted slime spirit was just... ugh. No.

Since you were still planning to narrate your adventure, rather than offloading the entire re-telling to your spell, you decide that you don't really need to give the magic the means to produce intelligible speech. On top of that, you don't see the need to include texture or scent - the latter in particular, as you encountered very few remarkable smells while exploring the ruined stronghold, and none of those particularly pleasant - so you figure you can just use a Spell to Create a Minor Image for basic audio/video support.

Wordless battle cries and cheering, the clash of weapons, the snap and hiss and BOOM of spellfire... that should be plenty as far as sound effects go.

Speaking of sounds, Issa's short conversation over the intercom - with Akasha, as it happens - has come to an end on a somewhat uncertain note.

"How badly IS Akua taking all of this?" Briar wonders, before you can.

"Mostly, it's a bad case of last-minute nerves," Gyokuro replies.

"'Mostly'," your partner echoes.

The lady of the house nods wryly. "She has a certain amount of professional paranoia, which is all well and good by itself, but when her sister's soul is the topic of discussion, the professionalism takes a back seat."

Leaving just the paranoia.

You can picture it easily enough, the sort of worries that have undoubtedly been bouncing around Akua's brain since you first brought up the possibility of reviving Jasmine. Will it work? Will there be side-effects? What if something goes wrong? Who are these strange "experts," and what do they get out of helping? Do they really know what they're doing? What about Alex, why is HE helping, and what does HE get out of doing so? Is this really a good idea? Should I really go through with it? Would it be better just to leave things as they are? And so on and so forth.

Throw in the fact that you and the Shinigami are here now, that the preparations for the re-embodiment and awakening are being made, and that the attempt will definitely occur at some point in the next few hours, and you can understand why Akua might be having second thoughts - or third thoughts, or however many iterations it's actually been.

You go ahead and cast your spell ritually, figuring you'll have the time just from how long it should take to navigate Castle Shuzen's corridors, and then spend a couple of minutes adjusting the image as you figure out where you want to start telling the tale. An image of the dimly-lit ancient chambers and passages of the base gives way to one of the interior of the command room in Roderick Pritchard's encampment, which is in turn replaced by a shot of the forested area surrounding both.

While you're doing that, everyone else in the room makes themselves comfortable on the available seats.

Maybe five minutes on, the door to this sitting room opens, revealing Akasha and Moka - wearing virtually identical expressions of frustrated concern - and an Akua who looks like she didn't sleep well last night. Or possibly for the last week.

You let your vision slip into the spiritual spectrum for a moment, but Jasmine is right where she's always been, her condition unchanged since the last time you tapped her with a Spell of Restoration.

"Good morning," you greet them.

"Good morning, Alex," Akasha replies with a half-hearted smile.

"Good morning," Moka echoes, only half paying attention to you.

Akua just makes a sound of acknowledgement, but then frowns at the image you finally settled on: that of the forested part of Faerie where the Memorian Outpost is located.

Once everyone is settled, you begin: "So, first, a little background to provide context for the tale. This is a part of the realm of Faerie..."

You quickly summarize your original meeting with the Memorians, touching on the reason for your trip-

A tiny Alex with an oversized head triumphantly raises an oversized Mirror of Shadows, to the tune that has been sung by the fairies on several occasions before, and then turns it on an image of a nine-tailed fox with crazy eyes. Little Alex then screams in terror as a black fox with even crazier eyes emerges from the dark glass.

-the battles that ensued within the base-

The fight with the Gohma swarm and their gigantic mother is pictured, and then the battle between the undead loyalists and their treacherous counterparts and unholy auxiliaries, with Little Alex and two similarly cutely deformed priests running around screaming "below" the greater conflict, Little Dark Link hot on their heels, growling menacingly and waving his sword about wildly.

-and then your promise to help to Memorians come back to Earth.

Little Alex salutes a small version of Captain Marcus, and then turns and marches off.

From there, the scene shifts to the sitting room in the Drake Estate where you enlisted the aid of Sir Pritchard in locating, unearthing, and securing the Memorian Outpost's Earthside counterpart - and for a moment, as tiny knights with oversized shoulders struggle to find space around the map Little Alex laid out, you have to pause in your narrative. For all the differences between a manor house and a gothic castle, the decor in the two rooms is similar enough that your Illusion, inside the Shuzen sitting room, kind of looks like the start of one of those recursive pictures.

Shaking your head, you change the image to one of a different forest. "Our story picks up some months later, in part of the Black Forest in Germany..."

"Indiana Jones?" Gyokuro exclaims, as the tiny images of Little Alex and Little Shadow Alex appear in the encampment, spooking the guards. "Really?"

You shrug. "I needed a disguise, and it seemed appropriate."

Aside from Issa, the rest of the vampires in the room are looking at the two of you with some confusion.

Have they not seen any of those movies?


"Out of curiosity, Mrs. Shuzen, do you happen to have any of the Indiana Jones films in the family movie collection?"

"The whole trilogy," Gyokuro confirms.

You nod. "You might consider a showing of one of them. Or maybe take a day sometime for a marathon," you add.

She seems to agree with you, and Issa is looking thoughtful.

"But, I'm getting distracted..."

The Little Alexes and the Little Big Briars are ushered into the meeting with Little Roderick and his inner circle, with a tiny Irina OF the Einzbern showing up and being quietly adorable-

"Is she really that cute, or is it just the chibi giving a misleading impression?" Kahlua wonders.

"She probably is that cute," Akasha says, before you can reply one way or the other. "Einzbern homunculi are surprisingly good at that."

Everybody, including you, stops and looks at her at that remark.

"When did you meet an Einzbern?" Issa inquires tentatively.

"Their family sent emissaries to Dracula's court," Akasha explains. "Usually, the homunculi attendants were somewhere between politely professional and just... flesh automatons, but every once in a while you'd come across one of them being completely baffled by the Castle's architecture, playing games with the children and the smaller denizens, or trading horror stories with the maids... well, when they weren't trying to kill each other for cleaning in someone else's territory."

...

"Anyway," you state, "I am getting distracted from the story."

You keep the narration of the meeting to a summary, so as not to give away too much about the people in Sir Roderick's employ, and are soon displaying your tiny lookalikes, a very top-heavy little armored knight, and some ghosts who came out looking like tiny Poes with Roman-esque helmets and upper body armor as they march - or float - up to the half-buried fortress and start recruiting bodies.

The castle-spirit pumps both rocky fists in the air, echoing the gesture of the tiny elementals that Little Alex summons-

"Wait, you summoned an ELEMENTAL PALADIN?" Akasha interrupts, right after Little Hornfels and his oversized hammer pop into being.

"I did," you reply.

"Why is that significant?" Gyokuro wonders.

"Since when did Charlemagne have elementals under his banner?" Akasha demands in consternation.

...

"...who?"

The Lady Bloodriver stares at you in abject disappointment, and then mutters something unflattering about the American educational system.

-and then, hesitantly, reaching up to give Akasha a comforting pat on the back, while staring at you in confusion.

You can only return the look.

Your small army of little people enter the base and begin gathering allies-

Memorian souls are shown dragging some of their confused and struggling counterparts into their growing ranks.

-battling the wolf-things-

Somehow, even bearing faithful reproductions of the deformities that were actually present on the original, the Little Undead Demonic Werewolf manages to be weirdly cute.

-and advancing ever-deeper into the ruin.

The appearance of the Memorians' monstrous auxiliaries visibly startles Issa and Gyokuro and delights the girls. Even Akua musters a smile at the sight of a proper werewolf, a centaur, and a harpy standing alongside the dead humans-

"Alex," Kahlua says sweetly, "why is that harpy petting you?"

Everyone looks at Little Alex.

Little Alex flinches, but offers no apology nor any sign of regret.

Little Trill, well, trills.


"Probably karma from all the headpats I've given," you reply.

That is, if affectionate cranial contact given to Moblin, Khamsin, and other animals falls under the same category as headpating humans. The former, you have a fairly extensive history of. The latter is a more recent development.

Kahlua frowns. "I don't remember seeing you give anyone a pat on the head." She looks at her sisters. "Do any of you?"

"I do not," Moka replies.

Akua shakes her head, smirking at you.

"Nope, and he'd better not try!" Kokoa finishes, glaring.

Kahlua nods, and then continues, "And I certainly don't remember ever getting-"

One of Issa's eyebrows tries to climb off his head.

"AND THEN SUDDENLY, A DEMONIC SUMMONING!" you say quickly, Little Alex nearly falling over in shock as one of the Memorian ghosts - which honestly looks more like a tiny Wizzrobe - pops up and starts gibbering.

The hasty advance through the corridors plays out with more disorganization than actually happened, as your miniature actors struggle to catch up with your sudden advancement of the script. The Little Alexes go racing ahead, practically careening off of the walls and then breaching the lab door by the simple and largely accidental means of just slamming into it at high speed.

Shortly thereafter, there is ALL the fire, with Little Alex and Little Shadow Alex getting knocked on their butts and slightly singed by the blast, while one adorably sinister ghost runs around yelping before it crumbles into dust - except for its unhappy face, which glares at the two tiny casters and sticks out its tongue. Meanwhile, a much larger, half-formed shape in a cloud of fog roars and thrashes as the flames engulf it.

"Stop for a moment, would you?" Gyokuro interrupts.

You pause the action, all the little figures - and even the not-so-little demonic one that is currently ablaze - stopping where they are and looking up questioningly. "Yes?"

"Did you happen to identify whatever sort of demon that was?" She gestures at the unholy mass of fog, limbs, and purple fire. "Or maybe WHO it was?"

You shake your head. "The demon basically got the dimensional door slammed in its face before it could come through, so we never got a clear look at it. The base was still only about half-clear at the time, and Shadow and I were both running low on mana, so we didn't stop to investigate, then or in the aftermath."

In hindsight, you're a little embarrassed that you didn't think to cast the Spell to Know the Enemy, whether right after the interrupted summoning or some time thereafter. Then again, the demon hadn't fully manifested before you sent it back to wherever it was coming from, so it's possible that the spell wouldn't have worked, because the demon wasn't properly "there" for you to meet it.

Gyokuro frowns, but accepts the explanation. "Alright, carry on."

You do, and the small, burning demon goes back to thrashing around for a moment before it disappears. The Little Alexes raise their hands and voices in triumph.

More moving about the base follows, the gigantic wolf-slime-thing makes its appearance-

"Ewww!"

-to universal disapproval, before the Little Alexes drop it into a hole with aid from a Little Big Giant Hand, Little Hornfels, and a silver boulder in the shape of a Goron.

"...is that it?" Akua asks, clearly dismayed by the underwhelming 'battle' with the giant undead slime-spirit. "Really?"

"That's what I said!" you exclaim, as your tiny counterpart looks disappointed by his easy win, kicking a stone into the pit - and then slipping on the slime covering the edge of the hole and letting out a scream as he goes tumbling over the edge.

There isn't much more to say or show beyond that, though you note that the Memorians are still cleaning house and making ready to bring the rest of their brethren back from Faerie.

"And then what?" Kokoa asks.

Little Alex and the other illusions pause in the middle of taking their final bows.

"What?"

"What will they do then?" the littlest vampire clarifies. "Will they just hang out in their base, scaring people who try to come in uninvited, or will they march out and start taking over Germany?"

She definitely sounds more enthusiastic about the latter option than the former.

The illusions trade glances, the Memorians raising their weapons and shouting at the prospect, while the living folks look worried.

You know that the plan is for the Memorians to discharge their final duties and then go to their long-overdue rest in the Underworld, but seeing as how Akua and her little sister's ghost are sitting right there, you would rather not bring that up.

"And that, Kahlua," you say then, "is the Tale of Why I Had to Miss Your Birthday Party. I hope it explained everything to your satisfaction."

"Mmmm... I suppose, if you had a promise to keep and demons to put down, then it's fine. THIS time." Then she points at you. "But next year, mister-!"

All in all, it took you about forty minutes to tell the whole story, and judging by the lack of any magical missives from Shadow Alex or a word from the staff, the experts must still be setting up.


"I could suggest the idea to them, the next time I visit."

Kokoa's eyes widen in glee. "Really?"

"Really," you affirm, before adding, "but it may not happen. It was indicated that Mars has plans for them."

You wouldn't have thought the girl could look any more excited-

"ALIENS?!"

-but she does.

It takes a couple of minutes to calm her down, sort out the misunderstanding, and explain who Mars is. Kokoa seems less excited about it, if still visibly impressed that a god is apparently paying attention.

How does it feel to come off second to little green men, Mars?
Bah. If they come from my planet, I still get the credit.
[You'll keep your schedule clear.

"Or maybe just invite you along to whatever's going on at the time," you add.

Kahlua suddenly resembles her littlest sister, a LOT.

She isn't the only one.

"That's not a guarantee," you say quickly to the VERY attentive Shuzen sisterhood. "It'll really depend on the situation, what the involved parties have to say, and whether or not your parents are willing to clear it-"

Issa makes as if to say something, and then flinches as all four of his daughters turn to him as one, their expressions variously hopeful, pleading, and/or insistent.

"-or maybe just come along."

"Oh, that could be fun," Akasha chimes in. "Don't you think, Gyo?"

"It would depend," the head of the family muses. "But a family outing would be a nice alternative to our usual celebration."

Kahlua beams.

"As he said," Gyokuro warns her eldest, "no guarantees."

"Yes, mother."

Kahlua's chipper tone betrays her seemingly demure and dutiful expression.

Might want to start looking for a minor apocalypse or an ancient sealed evil, kiddo, because that? Is the face of a girl with Expectations.

The odds of something like that happening on or around her birthday are-

Odds, schmodds. Worse comes to worst, he can just make his own-

Din, no.

I'm just saying, ONE little apocalypse-

What happened to not wanting him to emulate Ganondorf?

Ganondorf never threatened to end the world to impress a girl.

...

...I mean, she's not WRONG, exactly...

...

You're... just going to ignore that.


You already have a lot on your plate in the coming year. There's all manner of lessons to be learned, spells to be mastered, research to perform, a whole new workshop to plan and build, items to craft, and more projects on the docket besides.

You know you really shouldn't be taking on even MORE work on top of everything else that you're already planning on doing. You know you shouldn't even consider it.

And yet.

And YET.

You find that the idea of hunting down an opponent that some of your friends could HELP you deal with, of going on a proper Adventure WITH your friends instead of soloing it and telling them about it later... appeals. And if you can't FIND a suitable challenge - and being fair, tracking down a situation that would be exciting for a bunch of nine- and ten-year-olds with such a range of skills and experience, without being TOO dangerous for anybody, would be difficult - you could always try your hand at making one.

Oh, no...

After all, are you not a sorcerer?

Oh, yes!

Do you not have access to spells of the eighth circle in every school of magic, and even beyond in several cases?

Oh, boy...

Is the lore of Hyrule, Land of a Thousand Dungeons (For Children Ages Nine and Up), not at your disposal?

Do you not hold the memories of the King of Evil, challenger of no few of those ancient sites, creator-slash-empowerer of almost as many, and a solid guide for things TO do and NOT do in their making?

"No guarantees," you repeat, "but I will definitely be looking into that."

There is a collective "Eeee!" of excitement.

Mwahahaha!

[x] The Tale of the Great Independence Day Corpse-Demon Hunt is sure to be a crowd-pleaser. Especially with pictures!

While you cannot offer any certainties about future adventures, it occurs to you that perhaps you might make up for that with another tale of PAST excitement?

"While I have this spell up," you state then, gesturing at your stable of little actors, "would anyone happen to be interested in hearing the Tale of the Great Independence Day Corpse-Demon Hunt?"

Heads turn, locking on to you.

"You went on a corpse-demon hunt?" Akua asks with interest.

"And you didn't invite me?" Kahlua adds.

"Point of order," you reply, raising one hand. "The Hunt was in Sunnydale."

Kahlua glances from you to her parents.

They shake their heads.

She sighs. "Okay, fair."

"And secondly," you add, turning to Akua, "I didn't go myself, I sent my Shadow."

Akua considers that, and then nods. "Also fair."

Seeing as how there is general interest in the Tale, you rearrange your Minor Image. What was a ruin in a forest blurs and takes on the appearance of the streets of Sunnydale at night, and the two Little Alexes discard their adventuring gear for street clothes, handing the unneeded gear to members of the summoned army before the latter walk "off-stage."

"The day had been long and full of celebration of the nation's founding," you begin, "and our protagonist-"

Little Alex waves, surrounded by family, a Tiny Zelda riding on his back.

"-not you-"

Little Alex sinks into a sulk.

Little Shadow Alex laughs.

"-was returning to his creator's residence, making sure the family made it back safely and in good order."

Little Shadow Alex marches along behind the Little Harris Family, proud and watchful.

"Ah-ha!" Tiny Zelda exclaims, pointing.

Little Shadow Alex recoils in surprise.

"Also, there was something of a game of hide-and-seek going on," you add. "He'd been cheating."

Little Shadow Alex gibbers something in protest.

"Repeated shape-changing was not agreed on, and you know it."

The image slumps.

"Anyway, while the Harris family did get home without incident, they happened to briefly cross paths with a pair of bloodsucking corpses-"

There is booing from the audience as two tiny vampires pop up.

"-which, for reasons of it being a national holiday, and also for not wanting to upset his little sister's impending sleep with bad dreams of people-shaped things burning to death in front of her, the protagonist's creator grudgingly allowed to pass without incident. To our hero's bafflement and protest, I assure you."

Little Alex conjures and brandishes a handful of fire, gesturing for the corpse-demon pair to move along. While they quickly shuffle off, Little Shadow Alex stares in confusion, before dope-slapping his maker and making a most emphatic "what the heck, man?" gesture.

The gesture is echoed by Tiny Zelda.

"Between this understandable but disappointing decision, as well as a subsequent remark about making his own fireworks, a plan did form..."


With the power and bombast of a master sorcerer to supplement maybe a tenth of the skill of a movie director, you guide your constructed actors through the re-telling. Tiny Zelda refuses to get off of Little Alex's back until their parents finally work together to pick her up and haul her away, the Alexes get to work casting spells-

The first of the Little Shadow Wallmaster high-fives its creator after it appears, knocking Little Shadow Alex flying. The floating hand flinches in clear dismay, and then frantically tries to help the Shadow up and dust him off.

-gathering weapons-

A familiar musical chorus ensues several times in succession as Little Alex hands over the summoned sword and spears, while Little Shadow Alex starts to look frustrated and worried as he gradually runs out of belt loops, hands, armpits, and elbows to tuck everything into.

-and adopting a new disguise to march to battle.

*poof*

Little Shadow Alex becomes a tiny, armored titan of war, and joins his summoner in looking the form over for a moment before they both shake their heads in clear refusal.

*poof*

He becomes a sorcerer, robed and ready for battle!

*poof*

Also no good.

But the Form of the Random Tourist is just right, drawing wide smiles of approval and a thumbs-up from all parties, as well as applause from the Wallmasters that has the little humans flinching.

"And so, the Hunt began!"

Of course, when Shadow Alex was doing this, he made of point of finding the simplest workable plan and sticking to it - namely, fly above the streets, rain Scorching Rays of DEATH down on the corpse-demons before they even knew he was there, and take no chances that he didn't need to.

Tactically, it made fine sense, as the dying screams of tiny demonic parasites make clearer with every "pew pew!" sound effect-backed volley your hero unleashes. The three adult vampires in the room all nod in clear approval.

Cinematically, however, Shadow Alex's approach leaves something to be desired. Even a vampire can only watch a bloodrat burn so many times before it gets old, as the girls' expressions tell you.

Fortunately, those weren't the only encounters Shadow Alex had.

The demon grass is larger, more animated, and puts up more of a fight when Little Shadow Alex valiantly tries to rescue the hapless cat and trim the park.

Several "innocent" demons wander past the airborne protagonist, who puts great effort into avoiding their notice - and when one DOES spot him, the Little Shadow puts one finger to his lips with an exaggerated "Shhh!"

And then, of course, there are the worm-things.

"Ewww!"

"Do you know what THOSE are?" Gyokuro asks, in a rather different and altogether more disgusted tone of inquiry than she used when asking after the summoned demon in the Memorian Base.

"I did some investigating this morning," you answer honestly. "The findings weren't conclusive, but I think they might be related to carrion crawlers."

"So you didn't look into a major demon, but you'll look into parasites of parasites?" There is a testing note to her words, which you decide to answer.

"The major demon in question showed up in Germany, and didn't even get a chance to do anything." You point at the image of the graveyard. "THESE things, on the other hand, showed up almost literally in my backyard, and are apparently hunting and/or BREEDING in the region."

Gyokuro nods, approving.

You conclude the story with Little Shadow Alex returning to your home, performing the Rope Trick-

"With a garden hose?" Akasha asks, laughing with child-like delight.

-and leaving the "invisible" Wallmasters to march about the yard, watching for intruders.

Little Alex thus gets jumped when he investigates at the crack of dawn.

"Oh, they didn't!" Kahlua giggles.

"Some artistic liberties may have been taken," you concede.

That concludes the Tale, and your actors take another bow. As you have no further stories to tell at this time, you dismiss the Minor Image, while checking the time - it's only been about eighty-five minutes since you left Urahara and the others to their work, but with no messages having come from the other room and no servants politely standing by while you finished up with your presentation, you can safely assume that the experts aren't done setting up yet.

Considering how relaxed Akua seems right now, you feel it might not be the time to bring up Jasmine's taste in stuffed animals...


"While I've got you all here," you say then, "I was wondering about something."

"Yes?" Issa replies.

"Well, backtracking a bit..."

You briefly recount your battle with the Ophidian Troglofae, and the portions of the kill that you kept.

As you might have expected, the Shuzens aren't particularly bothered by the notion of literally butchering a slain enemy, nor are they put out by the fact that most of the raw materials thus obtained have already been sold, traded, or claimed by others.

Some of that is down to the fact that the only members of the family that you know to have any skill at magic are Akasha and Akua, with the former being powerful enough to not really NEED focuses and reagents, while the latter seems to make do without them.

Another part of the family's relative indifference is that if it turns out they DO need materials like you're describing, they're quite capable of purchasing them on the open mystical market - possibly at even better quality than you could have provided.

Still, when you bring up the subject of Alboa's Blood-

"Snake blood?" Kokoa says, making a face. "Blech!"

"Kokoa," Gyokuro chides her youngest.

"But it's so ugh!"

"Snakes are 'ugh'?" Akua repeats, smiling with the amusement only an older sibling can feel. "I suppose next you'll be telling me that you don't like crunchy insects."

"Ewww!"

-there is some interest.

"So-called 'cold' blood is something of an acquired taste," Gyokuro admits wryly, as she glances at Kokoa, "at least for those of us who've grown up drinking mostly 'warm' blood. And I will admit that snake isn't one of my personal preferences, but I've never had the opportunity to try FAE snake blood. That might be worth something just for the novelty."

"How much are you talking about?" Issa asks.

You reach into your dimensional pocket-

*Thump*

-and set the barrel on the floor, the thud being muffled by the carpet.

There are surprised blinks.

"When you said 'giant snake'," Akasha begins.

"Past thirty feet," you reply. "Of course, my first priority was killing it, rather than keeping the corpse intact for harvesting, so it bled out a fair bit before I shrank and stored the body, but this is what we drained out later." You tip the barrel slightly, the sloshing indicating that it isn't full - more like three-quarters, which is plenty enough to make it quite heavy.

"And you just... kept that in your pocket this whole time?" Akua asks.

"...yes? I mean, the spell I use keeps the contents of the 'pocket' in the same state they were when they entered, so while I can't keep EVERYTHING I own in it, it just makes sense to keep some things that I want to stay fresh in there."

Issa has moved over to the intercom and called for the staff to bring down a few glasses.

How much of the blood are you willing to let go as "free samples"?