"Oh!" you say abruptly. "Before you go, I just remembered. Kahlua mentioned in her letter that her parents were concerned about anything coming from the Hellmouth being contaminated. I could purify the letter - and you, if you feel the need after the last couple of days in town."
Shinshi pauses and looks thoughtful. "That would not be unappreciated, young sir, chu," he admits. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but the energy of this place, chu..."
"Feels like slogging through a garbage-choked ditch in mid-summer, with nettles growing on all sides, while trying to avoid the notice of a sleepy predator?"
"...eloquent, yet accurate, chu." Shinshi pulls the letter back out. "If you would be so kind, sir, chu."
Gathering mana, you cast a first-circle spell of Abjuration. The envelope and the bat's fur ruffle as the magic washes over them, though whether that's a direct result of your spell or just Shinshi's reaction to the purification is hard to say.
"Ah, chu," Shinshi sighs a moment later. "That does feel better, chu. Thank you, sir, chu."
Gained King of Monsters F (Plus) (Plus)
"And thank you, for hanging around despite the... local issues," you return, as the bat once again tucks the letter away.
Shinshi bows, but - perhaps tellingly - does not say that it was nothing, or merely him attending his duty. Then, with a little reverse somersault, he flips himself out of your window, over the sill, and off of the roof. A moment later, you catch a glimpse of a bat-shaped silhouette flying away into the dusk.
You close the window and go back to your writing.
Several weeks pass, and in this time, you get a fair bit of stuff done.
For starters, there's your correspondence. You have yet to hear back from Kahlua, but a few days after you sent off your reply to her letter, you finished the ones for your other friends. It took several drafts and a great deal of spell- and grammar-checking, but you are satisfied that you said what you meant to say, and didn't say what you didn't intend to say.
Well, not TOO much, anyway.
Gained Japanese D (Plus) (Plus) (E (Plus) (Plus) without Comprehend Languages)
Gained Literacy E (Plus) (Plus)
You'd half-considered sending Altria's letter via Postman, regardless of Ambrose's intervention with the mail services, but as you were walking to Lu-sensei's that Saturday afternoon, an unfamiliar fairy about Briar's size showed up to collect it. This one gave her name as Violet, and Briar seemed to like her quite a bit better than Prim - a sentiment that was shared as soon as the absent-minded fairy's name came up. Evidently, Violet and Prim are both "local" fairies - in the sense that they live closer to the Hellmouth than any of the other fairies in Ambrose's network of contacts, informants, and errand-runners - and will be the ones handling communications with you.
It is a minor mercy that Prim lacks the physical size or magical potency to carry letters, and will only be delivering verbal messages.
Violet hangs around for a few minutes, just chatting with Briar, but as you draw near to Lu-sensei's place, the other fairy goes back into "business mode" and requests the letter. You don't know if she's sensitive enough to magic to have picked up the wards, or if she's just showing a non-companion fairy's wariness of buildings and thresholds, but you don't make a fuss, and simply hand over the envelope. Violet makes it disappear with a wave of her wand, gives you a polite goodbye and Briar a more cheerful one, and then zips off.
Not too long after that, you've called up the Postman. He says that he delivered your request to the church, but has yet to receive a response. He speculates that the worthy brothers and sisters are still debating how they should answer, no doubt consulting the very holy books you hope to acquire copies of and praying for divine guidance in the matter. The good news is that they don't seem to have dismissed you out of hand, or gone straight to "panic" and "declare holy war."
Handing over your letters, you cast the Spell of Undetectable Alignment on the Postman and then release him from the constraints of your summoning circle. He once again tips his hat to all present before disappearing with a flutter of wings and a flash of light.
The following week, you finally complete the basic ward you've been working on for your room. Taking up writing slowed your progress a bit, but it wasn't that big a delay, and you think you've worked out how to avoid similar problems in the future. Mostly, you plan not to try and write half a dozen letters all in one go.
Gained Item Crafting E (Plus)
Gained Ward on Alex's Room
Lu-sensei comes over a couple of times to continue the discussion on the supernatural he began that first afternoon, and the topic of Kahlua's invitation - and its lack of parental approval - was "somehow" brought up in the conversation. Since then, your parents haven't noticeably discussed the matter. You suspect that they've already reached a decision, but are waiting to see what the Shuzen elders have to say before letting their own will be known.
Well, even if it turns out that you can't go to the party in person, you're determined to send a present for Kahlua. You've discussed that with Cordy, Amy, and Briar, and the consensus seems to be that any sort of pet would be too much hassle, and some of your ideas about jewelry just a bit much for a girl you barely know, regardless of her social status. Cordelia points out that SHE doesn't get jewelry for her birthdays - this is less a hint than a warning, you feel - and Kahlua isn't THAT much farther up the social ladder than she is. The idea of sending something you made yourself gets a measure of approval, though Briar is wary about it being something that contains active magic of your own casting that hasn't been sealed against interference by a proper enchantment. Rules of hospitality or no, stuff like that can be used against you if it winds up in the wrong hands.
Amy recommends you get Kahlua something cute. Cordelia, reluctantly, suggests getting something classy. Briar thinks that something mystical isn't a bad idea, as long as it doesn't include an active example of your magical energy.
What do you think?
The three-week period comes to an end with a re-appearance from Prim, and a message from Ambrose.
He'll be in town tomorrow.
You spoke with Lu-sensei, and your teacher said that aside from his training hall, there are only a couple of places in Sunnydale that he'd consider appropriate "safe ground" for a young child to meet a high-profile out-of-towner like Ambrose.
You decide that Cordelia probably has a better idea of what makes an appropriate gift for a young girl from a rich family than you or Amy. While you haven't bought anything just yet, you have looked through some of the stores at the mall you don't normally shop at, comparing prices for stuff like gloves, parasols, hats, designer sunglasses, waterproof jackets - basically, something that looks nice and serves a purpose that Kahlua's sort of vampire could appreciate. You also glance at some bracelets - simple stainless steel and kiddy friendship bracelet stuff - which just look good.
It occurs to you that you could analyze some of the upper-shelf stuff, then buy a less-expensive model and "touch it up" with the Spell of Masterwork Transformation. It'd be a bit less expensive, and the spell in question, while permanent in effect, wouldn't leave a lasting signature for you to worry about.
Something to keep in mind, you guess.
Your teacher doesn't appear at all surprised or upset when you ask him if it's alright for you to meet Ambrose at the training hall.
"It IS pretty much the safest option you have available," he admits. "Physical privacy, magical coverage, room to maneuver if needed..."
"Hopefully it won't come to that."
An issue does arise when you learn, via Prim, that Ambrose will arrive in Sunnydale on a Tuesday, around mid-morning, and fully intends to get the heck out of town before dark. This leaves you with limited opportunity to speak with him. As you know, Lu-sensei has classes throughout the day, and while he might possibly be willing to cancel the afternoon session, you're already imposing on him for the space - do you really have the right to ask your teacher to give up a part of his livelihood for your own convenience? Of course, if you don't, your meeting with Ambrose will likely have an audience... and whatever you decide in that regard, there's still the matter of when to meet the wizard.
Seeing no reason to go out of your way to add inconvenience to Lu-sensei's day unless absolutely necessary, you've requested that Ambrose meet you at the training hall around noon. This is fifteen minutes after Lu-sensei's last morning class lets out, leaving plenty of time for the students to be on their way before your visitor shows up - hopefully.
You also ask your teacher if he minds you making use of his rooftop garden, in case your discussion with Ambrose runs long and risks intruding upon the first after-lunch class. Lu-sensei doesn't appear to mind this plan, though he does advise you that the wards on his building don't fully cover the garden. Although it's kind of a thing for little old martial arts masters to train and meditate in quasi-natural surroundings, your master was a fair bit younger - and his garden far less pleasant - back when he had the hall warded. He hadn't really planned to do any rooftop training at the time, and as such, the anti-scrying element of the wards doesn't extend that far.
Plans made, you try not to stress out with anticipation and worry as you wait for the appointed Tuesday to arrive. School let out for the summer not too long ago, and you've been splitting your days since then between visiting your friends, hanging around the house to help your mother look after Zelda, and shutting yourself up in your room to study magic. Having the basic ward up hasn't made a huge difference on the quality of the spells you're able to use, but it's really opened up the field in terms of quantity; after a couple days of stress-testing, you've confirmed that you can pretty much cast suppressed first-circle spells until your mana reserves run dry without stressing the ward. If more powerful wards have a proportionate capacity, the things you could do when you get them up and running...
But that's for the future.
The day arrives, and after an early lunch - or late brunch - you make your excuses to your mother and depart the house at a quarter to twelve, Briar on one shoulder and Moblin barking a farewell behind you before your mother closes the door. You don't hurry, but even at a brisk walking pace, you reach Lu-sensei's with a few minutes to spare. The place is empty except for your teacher, who's produced a bamboo-handled broom from somewhere to sweep the floor.
"Good morning, Alex."
"Good morning, Sensei. How's your day been so far?"
"Quiet and wizard-free," comes the response. "But I repeat myself. And you?"
"About the same."
You wait quietly for a few minutes, saying nothing and having nothing said to you. The only sounds are your own breathing and the steady swish-swish of Sensei's bristly broom.
Then there comes a ring from the door. You look up, and...
Oh, what the hell?
It's Ambrose, though you can only tell that for sure because you don't know of any other skinny old man with a wizard-grade beard living in Sunnydale, let alone one that would put on a trenchcoat, fedora, and dark glasses on a warm summer day to go "sneaking" around town - and that's exactly what the old man is doing, quotation marks and all, with his back bent and shoulders hunched to help his coat's upturned collar hide his face as he tip-toes inside. And is that- it is! What is he doing carrying a hockey stick around? And why is it covered with runes?!
"Ambrose," Briar says, before echoing your very thoughts on the matter. "What. The. Hell?"
"Shhh!" He does the full index finger-to-lips gesture and wave. Then, shielding his mouth from one side, he loudly whispers. "I'm in disguise. This way, no one will recognize me!"
...he had better have gone senile in the months since you last spoke to him.
While still wrestling with the impact of Ambrose's "disguise," you bow your head and breathe a faint prayer to the Goddesses. It's modified from a saying you've seen on a fridge-magnet and thought appropriate:
"Goddesses, grant me the wisdom to accept the things that I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I cannot accept - and the power to stop myself from punching out an old man who's either senile or just yanking my chain."
"Amen," Briar murmurs fervently.
Gained Din's Favor D (Plus)
Gained Farore's Favor E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Feeling rather better all of a sudden, you lift your head and give Ambrose a cheerful smile.
"Welcome to Sunnydale, Ambrose. Nice disguise, by the way, but are you sure it's thorough enough? Have you considered a fake beard, or maybe one of those spectacles with the noses- you know the ones I'm talking about, right?"
Gained Trolling E (Plus)
"A decent quip, lad," Ambrose replies as the door swings shut behind him, "but your recovery time needs work. I give it a four." He nods to Lu-sensei and then looks around at the training hall. "Nice place. Good wards. Magic sword in the back?"
"Good eye," Lu-sensei answers. "I would appreciate it if you didn't spread that around, though."
"Not to worry, I know the routine with these things. Successor?"
"Not yet."
"Well, if you need a steward-"
"I will keep you in mind."
You wonder less about what the two old men are talking about - as it seems quite clear they're discussing the future disposition of the sword Lu-sensei calls Jade Dragon - and more at the bland tone they're using. They might just be going through the motions for the sake of politeness, or they could be having a serious conversation on the matter - or they could be threatening one another. There isn't enough emotional emphasis for you to say for certain.
Ambrose has left his coat and hat on one of the hangers near the door, revealing that he's wearing the same style of brilliant Hawaiian-pattern t-shirt and Bermuda shorts he had on at the World Tournament, although these appear to be an entirely different set of clothes. Leaning the... runic hockey stick... against the wall next to his coat, Ambrose turns to face you and give you another of those deep, searching Looks.
You were expecting something like this, so you don't flinch - at least, not until your mostly-healed spiritual injury gives a twinge. You can't avoid wincing at that, more from the surprise than any pain.
Ambrose frowns. "What have you been doing to yourself, young man?"
You return Ambrose's Look as best you can, and say blandly, "I fell down the stairs."
There is a moment of silence.
"Riiiight," the wizard drawls. "And what actually happened was...?"
"A Great Fairy sent me on a quest," you admit. "I got banged up along the way, but I've been dealing with the problem."
Ambrose regards you again. "Yes, you do seem to have it more or less under control." He frowns. "Which brings up another point. Did I or did I not slap a binding seal on you?"
"Yeah," you reply, trying not to growl. "You did."
"And yet," the wizard continues, "here you are, still clearly sealed, and yet apparently having worked low-level benign Necromancy on yourself regardless."
"Imagine that."
"And what's even more interesting," Ambrose goes on, "is that the traces of divine energy on your person, which were faint almost to the point of nonexistent in Japan, have increased about a hundredfold in intensity in just a few months."
"A hundredfold?" you repeat. "Really?"
"It's less impressive than it sounds," Briar cuts in. "Like he says, the signature was REALLY faint to begin with."
"Indeed," Ambrose agrees. He gestures at you kind of vaguely. "This is less than I'd expect to see from a minor shaman or faith-healer, but rather more than is usual for an arcanist of your age - unless you've taken up religion in a big way recently." The wizard's eyes gleam. "Have you, lad?"
You frown, wondering how to answer that.
You let out a breath.
"I'm not sure that I'd call it a 'big' way," you begin, "except maybe in relation to how I wasn't really praying to anybody or going to church before, but yeah, you could say I got religion a while ago."
Kind of hard not to, you think, when your patron deity sends you helpful battle-buddies and weapons when you're in need and ask the right way.
"And if you want," you continue, before Ambrose can say something, or anything, "I don't mind telling you about the goddesses. I'm just kind of curious as to why it's important. I mean, it's not like I was ever calling on anyone except myself to do magic."
Ambrose blinks. "You said what, now?"
"You heard him, Mister Wizard," Briar says. She sounds a bit smug.
"Briar mentioned once that wizardry gets its power from the environment, while sorcery and witchcraft get their power by calling on spirits." You look at Ambrose. "Is that about right?"
"It's a bit simplified, but in essence, yes."
"Well, Briar also said that the style of magic she taught me is technically sorcery, it's just that instead of a demon or a god, the 'spirit' I call on for power is my own."
The wizard doesn't reply for a moment. In fact, it almost looks like he's at a loss for words.
You have to admit, it's quite an enjoyable scene.
"I take it that's not common among magic-users?" Lu-sensei inquires.
"That would be understating the case," Ambrose answers slowly, not taking his eyes off of you. "It IS an option, but the problem is that whatever their spiritual value, human souls don't normally carry a great deal of magical potential. Even leaving aside the idiots who wound their spirits by making ill-advised contracts or playing around with necromancy, most magic-users in my experience would peak at the level of minor levitation spells and short-range, low-yield combat magic. And even THAT much would take years of dedicated practice."
You can tell from the old man's expression and tone that he is thinking hard, trying to come up with an explanation that reconciles your claim of using internal magic with the magical feats - minor as they are in the big scheme - that he's seen you perform. In the interests of saving time and avoiding potential... misunderstandings... you suppose you could just tell Ambrose some of the truth about your soul's origins. Then again, those are secrets you'd rather not share - and it really is quite amusing to see the wizard off-balance like this.
As amusing as it is to see Ambrose fumbling around, you decide to throw him a bone.
Gained Young King D (Plus) (Plus)
"If it helps any," you say, "I apparently had a pretty strong potential to begin with. Add to that how the style of magic that Briar's taught me runs off of the caster's internal reserves and works on building up those reserves, and that those traces of divinity you noticed act as a kind of amplifier for my potential on top of that..."
"That... would explain a few things," Ambrose admits, stroking his beard. He appears to have recovered from the shock you just dealt him - either that or he's very good at faking it. "Though it does leave a couple of major questions unanswered."
"'Who are these goddesses the boy is talking about?'" you venture.
"And how exactly did the boy end up with traces of their power" - Ambrose pauses, LOOKS at you again, and then corrects himself - "or rather, traces of the power of one of their number inside his soul? Because that kind of thing takes some doing, without mutilating or burning up the soul in question."
You suspect that spending centuries with some or all of the Triforce attached to your hand probably counts as "some doing," but you're reluctant to say so in front of Ambrose, since it not only reveals your status as a conscious reincarnation, but also the existence of the wish-granting relic. And if Lu-sensei thinks there are people who would try to exploit you for the former fact, how many more must there be who'd tear down the walls of space and time for a shot at omnipotence?
Recalling what you do of Hyrule's history in general and Ganondorf's exploits in particular, you can safely say that the answer to the latter is "too many to count."
That said, if you don't mention the Triforce to Ambrose, how are you going explain your close link to Din and her sisters?
Thinking it over, you decide on how to present your case. Making no effort to conceal what you're doing from Ambrose, you gather mana and weave it into the first of two spells, a simple telekinetic effect that reaches out and closes all of the blinds.
"Okay," you say, as you prepare for the second spell, "there's a story there. Kind of a long one, but fortunately-"
You cast the Spell of Minor Image. Darkness seems to swallow the interior of the training hall, but it does nothing to conceal any of the four of you from plain sight. The end result is that you, Briar, Ambrose, and Lu-sensei all appear to be standing (or hovering) amidst a void.
"-I can provide pictures."
"Oh, goodie," Ambrose murmurs. "A show."
Gained Illusion E (Plus) (Plus)
"Is this pressing the wards, Alex?" Lu-sensei asks, looking around.
"No, Sensei, this is just a second-circle spell. Illusions are neat that way. Really good cost-efficiency, unless or until somebody sees through them."
"Very true," Ambrose admits. "Well lad? On with it."
You nod, easily shaking off the distant feeling of familiarity and comfort that began to stir within you as the darkness spread out.
Gained Dark Affinity E (Plus)
You proceed to tell the two old men a slightly-abbreviated version of the creation myth of Hyrule, slowly filling the darkness with images: the shining figures of the Golden Goddesses, flying through the void; Din's creation of the land, molten earth surging with unchecked power; Nayru's establishment of order, a cool downpour that covers and calms the land; Farore's genesis of life, completing the task and filling the newly-made world with all its many creatures; and finally, the departure.
You'd planned to leave out any mention of the Triforce, but as the images of the goddesses fly together and disappear, the back of your hand suddenly glows with power - and for an instant, you can almost see three golden triangles hovering together amidst the brilliant golden light that shines at the point where the divine sisters vanished. With an effort and a prayer - half-apology, half that Ambrose doesn't notice - you blank out the representation of the Triforce and let the illusion lapse.
"Very nice," Ambrose says, as the normal interior of the training hall returns. "And how does all of that relate to you?"
You take a breath. Here comes the tricky part.
"I don't know exactly what happened," you say, "but my soul appears to have originated in Hyrule. Some of the people there are said to be able to 'hear the gods,' and Briar figured that was part of the reason I was able to see her the first time we met. I also look a bit like a member of one of the native races - more so than I should, given that my parents and the other members of the extended family DON'T look that way. Then there's how my summoning magic seems to have 'creatures of Hyrule' as a default setting. The most intelligent of those ALSO thought I was a member of that other race, by the way. And finally, those 'traces of divinity' you noticed back at the tournament? They align with the power of Din. That, and the way she and her sisters have answered a couple of my prayers for aid when I was casting spells, say that there's a connection."
Ambrose makes a thoughtful noise. Behind his back, Lu-sensei's expression is bland - you don't doubt for a moment that your teacher has noticed which parts of the story that you told him about your origins you aren't repeating, and you're grateful that he isn't giving away the game. Yet. You just hope he understands why you aren't bringing up the Ganondorf angle, and won't feel the need to ENLIGHTEN you about it later. You've been doing so well avoiding the Stick recently, it'd be a shame to backslide...
"Well," Ambrose finally says. "That's quite an interesting tale all around. Not what I was expecting to hear, but that seems to be something of a theme with you, lad." His expression turns a bit shifty. "And assuming you're telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth... I may, perhaps, have done you a minor injustice back in Japan. And in the unlikely but vaguely possible event that were so, some form of recompense... might be in order. Maybe."
You consider that.
You carefully consider Ambrose's not-precisely-an-offer.
Honestly, if you take out his rudeness in applying it without consent - and via an ENLIGHTENING lump on the head - the seal the old wizard put on you isn't really that big an issue. Rudeness and unilateral decision-making just seem to be part and parcel of Ambrose's personality, and your head has long since recovered from the blow. And speaking objectively, asking for compensation over something that didn't really hurt or impair you would just be... well, greedy.
"We might want to talk about comparing notes on magical styles at some point," you say slowly, before another matter occurs to you, "but there's something else we should probably discuss first."
Ambrose arches one shaggy eyebrow.
"You remember Beryl, right?"
"The lovely young lady with the very unpleasant taste in friends," Ambrose replies. "I am unlikely to forget any time soon. Why do you mention her?"
"I spoke with her after the tournament, and she sent me a message a couple weeks ago, asking if whoever taught me would be interested in taking on a student, or at least corresponding."
The wizard looks from you, to Briar, and back again.
"Yeah, she didn't seem to be aware of Briar's presence when we spoke face-to-face in Japan, so I've been a little unsure about how to answer her."
Since Beryl knows about magic, telling her that you learned from 'your invisible friend' wouldn't be unreasonable, but it could also worry her. Claiming you're self-taught would actually be the more outrageous statement, since you're kind of absurdly capable for somebody with so little of a formal magical education. Briar's good, but she isn't exactly an accredited magical tutor. And attributing your skills to your dreams of a past life isn't in the cards yet, if it ever would be. Hence the uncertainty about what you should write in reply.
"The thing is," you continue, "despite the whole giant shadow monster and that life-draining critter she threw out in the ring, Beryl didn't really strike me as a bad person, just someone who could use some guidance. Maybe a teacher, maybe just somebody she can talk to as a peer." You frown at Ambrose. "Of course, it'd have to be someone who wouldn't inflict any 'minor injustices' on her."
Ambrose feigns hurt. You ignore it.
"I could try just writing to Beryl on my own, but it might go over better if I was able to direct her to somebody older than I am, and more visible than Briar. The catch is, I don't know very many people like that. At all." Your frown deepens, though it's no longer directed at Ambrose. "Actually, I'm pretty seriously in the dark about the greater magical community, if there even is one."
"There is," Ambrose replies. "Though it's more like a bunch of small communities that just happen to be neighbors."
You wince. "I could use some advice about that. You know, any rules or customs I should be aware of before I break them by accident, places I should or shouldn't go, people I should look out for, that kind of thing. I sort of have a plan to help my family make a little extra money with magic, but-"
Ambrose cuts you off quickly. "This plan doesn't involve using Divination to play lotteries or stock markets, or using Conjuration to make precious metals or gems from scrap or thin air, does it?"
"Uh, no."
"Good," Ambrose says firmly.
"Bad ideas?"
"More like they're the first ideas that occur to every magic-user in need of a few extra quid." The old man shakes his head. "There's simply too many competing divinations, wards, blessings, and curses at work in the modern markets for any 'financial wizard' to make a profit, unless they have the genuine skill or luck to guess the right numbers. Likewise for organized gambling. Unorganized gambling might or might not have those issues, but the take is generally too low to be worth the effort - and when it's not, you risk pissing off the wrong sort of people by winning too much. And making yourself into the next Nicholas Flamel is just ASKING for someone to kidnap, coerce, or kill you."
You mentally scratch those ideas off your list of potential money-makers.
"What were you thinking of doing, anyway?" Ambrose asks.
You see no harm in it, so you explain to Ambrose your tentative plan to help out your Dad and your Uncle Rory at the garage by using magic to repair and restore car parts.
The wizard blinks, and you see his lips moving soundlessly behind his beard.
You won't swear to it, but he appears to be mouthing the phrase, "Car parts?"
Then Ambrose shakes his head.
"I... see. Well, ah... that would... probably work, actually. I mean, as long as you put in the time and effort to make sure you knew what you were doing, and were careful about the quantities involved. No restoring old cars to perfect working order more often than a team of regular mechanics could do it, keep the 'amazing finds' of rare parts down, that sort of thing..." Ambrose trails off, muttering something that almost sounds like, "Why didn't I ever think of that...?"
"Sorry to interrupt," Lu-sensei says then, "but time is passing."
"Hmmm?" Ambrose glances at your teacher, then reaches into a pocket of his bright, baggy shorts and pulls out a positively archaic pocket-watch. When he snaps it open to look at the time, you sense a fair amount of magic, which just as quickly disappears when the wizard closes the watch again. "True enough. Alright, then, I'll keep this brief."
So saying, he turns to you.
"With regards to Miss Beryl - I would personally like to have a long chat with that young lady about the ethics of necromancy. I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me her address, would you?"
You hesitate. Do you really want to sell Beryl out to Ambrose? Because that's what giving him her contact information would amount to. Oh, the mailing address you got from the imp isn't a residential one - you checked when you got it, and it's a drop box back in Japan, one of the Tokyo special wards to be exact - so it isn't like Ambrose would be able to teleport into Beryl's living room if you handed over the info. But he could track the mail, pop over to have a word with the postal service about who rents that box, or load a letter with any number of magical traps - and whatever Ambrose did, you'd be complicit in. And the odds are that Beryl would know.
On the other hand, Beryl caused a pretty significant ruckus at the tournament, and she was in serious danger the last time you saw her. Maybe she really does need an older wizard to step in and take charge of things...?
So. What do you do?
You shake your head.
"Not without her consent," you say firmly. "Beryl asked if she could get in touch with my teacher, which you aren't, and she didn't say anything about telling anyone else."
Granted, the message didn't say anything AGAINST that course of action, either, but based on what little you know of the redheaded sorceress, that part would go without saying. Rather literally in this case, thanks to her choice of messenger.
"I AM willing to send Beryl a letter to let her know that you'd like to speak with her, and to ask if it's okay for me to pass on her mailing address," you continue. "If my little post-tournament meeting with her is any indication, it'll be easier to get her to listen to you if she's the one who decides to get in touch with you."
"And if she chooses otherwise?" Ambrose presses.
"If Beryl turns down a meeting with you, that's her call."
Though thinking of other 'calls' Beryl has made - calling up the Shadow-Giant in a public area, letting it loose, running from the authorities in the wake of an assassination attempt - you have to admit that she's shown a certain tendency towards snap judgements and self-centeredness. It would be one thing if she were a normal girl, but she really isn't, and that makes her behavior more than a little concerning.
Part of you dryly notes that your own track record is hardly outstanding in that regard, either. You tell that part to go soak its head.
"But if she doesn't get in contact with me for a reasonable length of time after I send the offer," you add, "say..."
"...then I'll reconsider. Just so you know, though, the address I have isn't residential."
Ambrose regards you in silence.
"That is a fairly reasonable offer," he admits, before adding, "but I'm not the most reasonable person."
And then he seems to grow taller, darker, and somehow MORE, going from a kooky old man to a looming figure of unspoken menace, a Power in its own right.
"I think I must insist, Alexander," Ambrose rumbles, his presence filling the dojo. "The address, if you please."
Before the skin-crawling, mind-straining force of the wizard's unrestrained magical aura, you find yourself feeling... remarkably small.
You regard Ambrose in silence for a long minute, and then give him your answer.
"No."
The Looming Figure of Mystical Menace blinks. "'No?'" he repeats.
"No."
Really, what did he think your answer was going to be? You've seen scarier - and Ambrose should know it, even if only for your brief run-ins with Beryl's Shadow-Man or your clash with Altria and her Dragon. That's not even getting into some of your darker dreams, where you can recall having BEEN scarier than this. Ganondorf was a master of the Ominous Presence technique, and you've inherited enough of his pride to find the idea of succumbing to someone else's use of the skill to be shameful.
For all that, though, you resist the impulse to lose your temper, or even to try matching Ambrose's aura with your own. There are some things about Ganondorf you can't help but emulate, and others which aren't actually bad traits to have. The rest, however, you're much happier without - and this is one of them.
Gained Cool C
Gained Mental Power F (Plus)
"'No,'" Ambrose repeats again. It's as if he's never heard the word before.
"Is there an echo in here?" you wonder aloud. "I said, no, and I mean it."
He LOOKS at you. "Is that your final answer?"
"It is."
"Are you sure?"
"What did I just get through saying?" you respond with mounting exasperation. "Yes, I'm sure!"
"You don't want to say, or do, something else in this situation? Get angry? Push back? Take a swing at the rude old bastard who's getting in your face and trying to scare you into obeying him?"
The more Ambrose talks, the less intimidating his aura gets. It's still there, still huge and unfathomable and kind of obnoxious, but the sense of impending doom just isn't holding up. Rather, you're getting a sense of... curiosity? It's like watching one of the town's stray cats stalk up to Moblin when he's napping in the yard, and take a swing at his nose. The cats HAVE to know what your dog's response to such action is going to be, but they come and do it anyway...
When it hits you, you can't stop yourself from pointing dramatically at the wizard's face.
"You're trying to force me into a vision!"
"...is it working?"
Oh, for Din's sake.
Obviously, Altria mentioned what happened when your full-strength aura clashed with hers during the tournament - and why wouldn't she? Ambrose is her tutor, and a wizard besides. Who else would she go to after experiencing something strange and mystical in nature? And now the meddling old coot is trying to get you to power up and take a swing at him, so he can examine the phenomenon for himself.
"No," you say once again, "it's not working."
Really, all Ambrose has achieved with this stunt is to give you an urge to punch him in the face. You've decided not to do it, more because you figure that denying him evidence that he's managed to aggravate you that much is the best way to bother him in this situation, than out of any reluctance to hit an old guy.
The old guy in question regards you a moment longer, then shrugs.
"Well, I tried."
And just like that, the menacing aura goes away.
You blink.
"If you're that intent on protecting Beryl's privacy," Ambrose says, as if he hadn't just tried to cow you into submission with eldritch theatrics, "then I can respect your resolve and give you some time to work. But I DO hope that you'll keep me informed on that front, hmmm?"
How does he just change gears like that, like the last five minutes or so didn't happen?
"As for information about the magical communities, I have to admit that I'm not the best-informed about the local supernatural scene myself. I know the big names, yes, but I doubt I could name a third of the mid-ranked authorities and practitioners just in California, let alone the adjacent states - and none of the lesser folks. I can point you to a couple of people who'd be willing and able to give you the introduction to the local scene you were hoping for, though, assuming you're still interested."
The way Ambrose bounces from mood to mood leaves you wondering: is he on some kind of medication? And if not, should he be?
Leaving that aside for the moment, are you interested in the names Ambrose can give you?
And is there anything else you want to say to Ambrose while he's here? You've got ten minutes or so before Lu-sensei's students should start showing up, and the rooftop garden is available.
You definitely want those names. At the same time...
"Do you have time to stay a bit longer, Ambrose?" you venture. "Sensei agreed to let us borrow the rooftop garden if this was going to run long."
"While I am tempted, lad," Ambrose admits, "I have some unfinished business in LA that won't wait. Unless you think you can fit whatever it is you'd like to say into, oh, twenty minutes..."
He pauses to give you room to consider, and after doing so, you have to sigh and shake your head. Negotiating the details of an exchange of magical techniques isn't something you feel you should attempt when you're up against that brief a time limit, particularly not when you've already got a list to be taking down.
"I was hoping to discuss the possibilities of exchanging notes on our different styles of magic," you admit. "Maybe talk a bit about safe places for long-range teleport-"
Ambrose once again gives you that brief look of surprise. You've been getting that from him a lot today.
"-or ritual sites. But I guess it can wait, at least until I've heard back from Beryl."
"...yes," Ambrose murmurs. "Wait..." He shakes his head. "Right, then. Do you have a notebook or something?"
As it happens, while you don't usually carry stationery around during the summer, today you made a point of being prepared for just such a possibility. Pulling a notepad and a pencil out of your po
cket, you gesture towards Ambrose, wordlessly asking him if he wants you to do the writing or if he'd prefer to handle it himself. It proves to be the latter, as he accepts the paper but waves off the pencil, instead casting a spell unfamiliar to you-
Gained Transformation D
-a mix of Conjuration and Transformation which causes some fairly dense text to take shape across the first dozen pages of the notebook, on both sides of the sheets. After looking it over twice, Ambrose nods in satisfaction and hands the pad back to you; glancing at the first page, you see an unfamiliar name, a mailing address, and some notes on the individual's background, magical style, and personal quirks.
Gained Ambrose's Who's Who (SoCal Edition)
"'Creepy obsession with cats?'" you read aloud, flipping the page. "'Relic of the Sixties?' 'Unreasonable dislike of fairi-' oh, Mrs. Lawson. Cool." You weren't sure Ambrose would name her.
"You've met Diane?" Ambrose sounds interested. "How is the old girl?"
"She was setting fire to a couple Unseelie fey and loosing big nasty bears on their goons, last I saw," you reply, fudging the truth just a bit, as you weren't actually there to see it.
"Really?" Ambrose now sounds positively DELIGHTED. "Good for her. I may have to drop by again in a few days to get that whole story out of you..."
Erg.
You do want a chance to talk to Ambrose in more depth, preferably about magic, and you're momentarily tempted to suggest that he be the one to host your next meeting - perhaps in England? But you have to admit, it would probably be less hassle for everyone if the wizard were to just come back to Sunnydale after he's wrapped up whatever pressing business he still has in LA.
You check with Lu-sensei to make sure he's okay with you borrowing the training hall again, or just making use of the rooftop garden. He doesn't object - but he does add a warning.
"Try to browbeat any of my students again, sir," he tells Ambrose firmly, "whether under, on, or away from my roof, and you and I will be having words."
"Duly noted," Ambrose replies.
The wizard isn't entirely sure when he'll be back. Could be tomorrow, could be Thursday or Friday, maybe even the weekend - it depends on how long he gets held up in Los Angeles. He agrees to send you a message to let you know when he's ready to depart, or if something urgent comes up. Then, making his farewells, Ambrose dons his trench coat, gathers up his runic hockey stick, and scurries out the door, looking entirely too suspicious to be taken seriously.
You wait a couple minutes for the wizard to be long gone, so that you - hopefully - won't be associated with the crazy old man when you leave. Then, thanking Lu-sensei for his time, use of his training hall, and his patience, you head home, passing a couple of young adult types carrying gym bags and on a course for the building behind you.
What do you want to do over the next day or more until you've heard back from Ambrose?
Since it strikes you as the most time-sensitive of the various tasks that you could and should be taking care of, you spend a good part of the afternoon and evening, as well as the following Wednesday, putting together a letter for Beryl. After several rewrites, your final draft admits that you don't currently have a master in the mystical teaching sense, and have in fact been trying to find one since you outstripped the friend who taught you a good portion of what you know. You mention coming into possession of a list of "local" names of importance, some of whom might be open to taking on a student, or just corresponding with one, but you also caution Beryl that this list came to you via Ambrose - adding a polite but factual description of the old man's appearance, behavior, and actions, in case Beryl somehow failed to notice him at the tournament. You then explain that said meddlesome old man wants to get in touch with Beryl, and that you managed to talk him into giving you a chance to write to Beryl about the situation and let her make the call on whether she wants to deal with Ambrose's particular brand of pushiness or not.
Looking it over for the tenth time, you're still not entirely sure if your letter is encouraging Beryl to make contact with Ambrose, or warning her to run for the sake of her sanity. Still, you've mentioned Ambrose's interest in Beryl, the two-week grace period he agreed to wait before taking action, and even offered to share the list of names he gave up. You figure that's the best you can do, given the deadline you're working against and the... touchy natures of the other people involved in this situation.
With Lu-sensei's consent, you end your regular Wednesday afternoon training by calling up the Postman to deliver one extra letter. Your friends range from interested (Amy) to confused (Larry) when all your preparations result in a guy in a track suit showing up in the summoning circle. For his part, the Postman is a bit reluctant to take a letter to a practicing sorceress, but his mood clears up when you explain that he's not going directly to Beryl, only a drop-box that she has access to. That plus another alignment-cloaking spell has him off.
When you're not writing, you spend most of your time reviewing the very same list of important names that Ambrose whipped up for you. Maybe half of them are out-and-out Bad News, like this Wolfram and Hart law firm for whom Ambrose felt the need to add notations like, "a front for demons," "big-time Evil," "untrustworthy," "never sign anything they give you," and "sore losers." You're rather alarmed to find that your own Mayor Richard Wilkins is on Ambrose's list as a warlock, with tidbits such as, "germophobic," "very polite and friendly," "darn good minigolfer," and "more blood on his hands than entire armies."
You think back to your brief meeting with the Mayor. You didn't notice a thing that suggested he was even aware of the supernatural, let alone sunk into the dark side of magic deep enough to qualify as a warlock - and that leaves you worried about how much he may have noticed, or not noticed, about you.
Another quarter of Ambrose's list falls into a grey area - sometimes in the moral sense, and sometimes for other reasons. As an example of the former, the wizard made mention of an Oracle in LA that works for a group identified as the Powers That Be, a collection of ascended beings interested in maintaining the cosmic balance. Or as Ambrose puts it, "incorrigible meddlers," "opportunistic has-beens," and "not nearly as infalliable as they like to paint themselves." For the latter sort of "grey" name, there is a trio known as the Transuding Furies, whom Ambrose has simply noted down as, "lovely girls," and "you're too young for their help, try again in ten years' time."
The remaining names are those like Mrs. Lawson, individuals far enough from the Dark Side and of sufficient talent to merit Ambrose's... "respect" may be too strong a word, but at least they don't get the more insulting descriptors.
Local Knowledge (Moonlit World) E (Plus)
Local Knowledge (Sunnydale) E (Plus)
Although you have other plans, after two days of you largely shutting yourself up in your room, Zelda runs out of patience and invades your personal space.
"It'th thummer, Alexth! Let'th go outthide and play!"
"Zelda, I have things to do-"
"Boring!"
You regard your little sister and your pet dog, who appears to have been dragooned into aiding Zelda in her conquest of your room.
As Zelda tugs you slowly towards your door, you give some thought to trying to get her to join you in a training session or a trip to the library, but in the end you choose to just play with her. Your folks have said no to the idea of Zelda training, at least until she's older, and the library is pretty far away by the standards of a two-year-old - plus it's full of a bunch of big, boring books that don't even have pictures. Any serious use of magic is right out, now that you're clear of your warded room.
"Alright," you finally say. "We can play for a little while. But after that, I really do have things I need to do."
Zelda doesn't appear to hear anything beyond "we can play." You'll have to work on that.
Gained Elder King F (Plus)
Fortunately, after an hour an a half of running around in the yard playing whatever games come to mind, it's time for lunch - and not too long after that, the combination of a busy morning and a good meal has Zelda curling up on the living room couch for her afternoon nap. You take the opportunity to retreat to your room and do magic.
For the next hour or so, you study the seal Ambrose left on your spirit. Nothing about it appears to have changed since the last time you poked at it; you figure you'd need to use much more powerful magic for an extended period of time to really learn anything new from the mystical binding.
Your investigation is derailed by a sudden high-pitched keening and electrical hissing, not unlike the interference produced by poorly-wired sound systems.
"-lo? He**o? Is this th*** on?" a voice says through the static. "C** you h**r me, ***?"
You wince. This feels something like being on the receiving end of a Spell of Sending, but you have no idea why it's coming across so choppily. Thankfully, the voice is still recognizable even through the interference.
"Ambrose?" you reply aloud. "Is that you?"
"This connection is terrible," Ambrose grumbles through a momentary absence of static. "I **n bare** *ea* **u. List**, lad, I need t* *** you ** do ** * fa**r."
You can barely follow this. Perhaps you should try to strengthen the link? You could take the basic elements of the Spell of Sending and rework them into something like a "Spell of Receiving;" it'd probably work, although there's no way your ward would hide the effect. Alternately, you could cast a low-end variation of the spell that would be concealable, though it'd be much less likely to work. Or you could just try to listen very closely.
It occurs to you that the ward around your room may be interfering with Ambrose's communication spell. While it wasn't specifically set up to impede magical energy coming into the room from the outside, and wouldn't have any appreciable effect on something like a fireball being chucked at your window, you also didn't specifically design the ward to allow transmissions of this type. Partly because you lack that level of skill, but mainly because you weren't expecting anybody to drop a Sending on you any time soon.
That in mind, you quickly cast a first-circle form of the "Spell of Receiving" you'd come up with - essentially the magical equivalent of raising a portable radio antenna, as opposed to the transmission tower the full, fourth-circle version of the spell would have provided. Then you quickly step out into the upstairs hallway, leaving the protection and potential interference of the ward.
"Alex, what-" Briar begins.
You cut her off with a brief hiss and a choppy gesture, as you try to focus on what you're hearing.
Gained Listening C
You must have done something right, because the static - while not completely gone - has largely diminished to an annoyance in the background, rather than something that threatens to completely drown out the content of the message.
"-ran into a bit of *nag," Ambrose is saying. "Long story ***rt, I had to hop a portal, *** now I'm in Hell. A Hell, at least. One of the classical ones, all f*** and brimstone and bat-winged, cloven-hoofed, horned demons- just a moment." There is a hiss of static, and when the wizard speaks next, his voice sounds a bit distant. "I'm tr***g to talk to s***one here, you **consi***ate a**! Bu**er off and find **** other lost soul to men***!"
You hear a terrible roar that is NOT mystical transmission interference. In response, Ambrose barks a word of magic, and then there is another roar, much more explosive in nature. The static momentarily intensifies, and you lose track of a few seconds.
"-c** get b**k fine on my own," Ambrose continues calmly, as if the interruption hadn't occurred, "but it may take me a while. Unless of course, you're willing to help."
"What would this 'help' involve?" you venture cautiously.
"Well, ideally, you'd crea** a planar beacon that would allow me to lock on to your po**tion and travel there directly. Of course, that would take a c*******able effort on your part, enough that I don't believe the safeguards on Lu Tze's training hall would be able to hide it."
This sounds like a bad idea. You say so.
"I thought you might *** that," Ambrose admits. "Well, it's ***s ideal, but you could get in touch with Altria and l** her know of my, er, circumstances. My workshop has every***ng necessary for the job, all set up and ready to go - all she'd need to do ** push a button, basically."
See, this sounds like a much better idea. Again, you say as much.
"I'd really prefer to avoid that a**roach, though, because however I do this, I'm going to have at least one an*ry demon chasing me." There is a pause, punctuated by more spellcasting and a series of staccato explosions, followed by pain-filled bellows. "****ib*y **ve**l a*gry de*ons," Ambrose amends. "And I'd ra**er not have such unruly visitors droppi*g by the manor. Altria's father has this thing about demons on the property, I'd be hearing about it for months."
You have to stop and boggle at that.
"Ambrose," you say carefully, being sure to enunciate precisely. "Are you suggesting that I should help you summon a pack of angry demons into my hometown? Because that's what it sounds like on this end!"
"What? Oh, no! No, no, no!" comes the hasty reassurance. Then there's a pause. "Well, yes. But I'll be right there to get rid of them for you!"
Forget bad; this sounds like a HORRIBLE idea. And once more, you say so!
Faced with a decision that has three rather unpalatable possible solutions, you decide to do what many great men in history have done when caught in a similar situation.
You'll call for aid.
"Ambrose, if I were to call Altria's cell, would it get through?"
"It should. Just be s**e to stay on the line until she's picked up; the girl should ** in bed by now, if I remember the time *ones right."
"Right, just a sec." Dashing back into your room, you fetch your notebook and pencil, then return to the hall. "Okay, what's the number?"
He tells you. Unsurprisingly, there is static, so you have him repeat the number - and then you read it back to him, just to be sure.
"Got it. Can you hold out while I call her?"
"I should be fi** where I am for the next, oh, half-h*** or so," Ambrose replies. "Fortunately, this isn't one of those dimen***ns where time moves at a different ra**. But I'll definitely n**d to move after that, and I'll probably end up too 'far' from **rth for any help to reach me. So do hurry, hmmm?"
There is another burst of static, then silence and a lack of magical activity. You take it for the equivalent of someone hanging up the phone.
"What was that about summoning demons?" Briar asks with false cheer.
"It's either Ambrose in trouble, or somebody pretending to be Ambrose to try and get me into trouble," you reply, as you make for the stairs. "Either way, I've got a phonecall to make."
Luck is with you in that the phone is free. As you dial, you wonder if this will count as a long-distance call, or if whatever adjustments Ambrose made to Altria's cellphone reduces roaming charges and the like.
Just to be safe, you decide to call collect. The Drake family can probably afford it, and they're better placed to get recompense out of Ambrose for saving his wrinkly hide.
Dialling quickly, you wait for one, two, three, four rings - and then you get voicemail.
"My apologies for not being available," Altria's voice says. "Please leave a message, and I will respond as soon as I'm able."
Instead, you hang up, wait a beat, and redial.
One, two, three, fou-
"You are going to wake up my little girl, Ambrose," says the voice of a woman who sounds like an older, mildly annoyed version of Altria. "This had better be important."
"Um... I'm not Ambrose, Mrs. Drake," you venture.
"...so I hear," she replies. "Who are you, then?"
"My name's Alex Harris, ma'am, I-"
"Oh, the boy from the tournament finals?"
"The same."
"My, my," she says cheerfully. "I hadn't realized Altria gave you her phone number~."
Something in her tone makes you nervous. You're not sure why.
"She didn't, ma'am. I got it from Ambrose a minute ago. Which is why I'm calling - sorry about the hour, by the way, but it's kind of urgent."
"...I see." There is a decidedly uncheerful sigh. "What trouble has that meddling old fool of a wizard gotten himself into this time?"
Thinking on it a moment, you decide to keep your answer succinct. "He's in Hell."
"Tch. Again? That's the third time in the last two years. When will that man learn... very well, Mister Harris. I know the routine from here."
You get the sudden certain impression that Mrs. Drake is going to take charge of the situation, and leave you out of it from here on. If you spoke up quickly, you might be able to change that. Maybe. That is... if you really want to.