"I can do that," you say in agreement. "But just so you know, Cordy, I got a warning from Ambrose about trying to use magic to make money."
"Oh?"
You explain what little the old wizard said about the difficulties of divination and the dangers of dumping gold (and presumably, other rare and valuable materials) onto the market.
Cordelia listens intently, and finally nods. "Yeah, it makes sense. Good thing I'm not after gold or jewels then, huh?"
"Huh?" You're not the only one who blinks at the Chase heiress's declaration. "Then what do you want?" Amy asks.
"Let's just say I have a really good reason to want a church of magical good guys to think well of me," Cordelia replies.
Oh, right. That whole "cursed by an evil god" issue. You hadn't forgotten, but Cordelia's behavior since finding out about it hadn't changed at all, taking away a lot of potential reminders. You're honestly rather impressed with her; if you were in her place, lacking your great and mighty magic and under the thumb of a dark deity, you can't say for sure that you'd be bearing up nearly as well.
"I was going to let you borrow the books after I'd read them, Cordy," you note.
"Yes, you were." She sighs. "But nobody does something for nothing, Alex. If I want their help, I have to earn it myself."
Amy and Larry are looking confused and worried by this line of conversation, and Lu-sensei is frowning with the first flickering embers of quasi-patriarchal anger - "who has upset my daughter-figure/student, and how many times must I punch them in the face to make her feel better?" It seems that, for whatever reason, Cordy has chosen not to talk about her curse problem with your other friends, so you should probably respect her wishes. Or you could tell them... preferably later, where Cordelia won't find out.
After class, you don't head straight home, instead making a detour to your Uncle Rory's garage. It's not too far; like Lu-sensei, your uncle is a single man living in an office-slash-apartment above his business, which is located near the "bustling center" of Sunnydale proper. There's a fenced-off area in the back, where Rory keeps boxed spare parts, assorted random junk, and a single wheel-less car frame, jacked up on cinder blocks and covered by a tarp most of the handful of times you've been over.
There are also stuffed animals all over the place, and not in the fluffy bunny sense. Your uncle is into taxidermy for some unfathomable reason, and has been since he was about your age, if your father's stories are any indication. Even with his early endeavors consigned to the trash decades ago, and many more examples of his craft given away as gifts to family and friends (and then hidden in attics and basements), thirty-plus years of patient work has still left your uncle with a downright alarming number of stuffed and mounted animal corpses.
"They're STARING at me, Alex," Briar moans as you enter the building. "I can feel the echoes of their trapped little animal souls, GLARING from behind those glassy eyes, jealous of my life and desiring to make me one of them..."
"I'm pretty sure my uncle isn't into animal necromancy, Briar. He just has a creepy hobby."
"Oh, sure, that's what he WANTS everyone to think..."
"Hey, Alex!" the man in question says, looking up from the hood of a family-sized van. "What brings you by?"
"I had a question for you and Dad, Uncle, if you've got maybe ten minutes?"
"Sure, just a sec." Adjusting something in the engine, your uncle slams the hood down, wipes his hands on a nearby rag, and nods towards the back. "Tony's just putting away a box of parts. Come on."
You follow your uncle out the open back of the garage, and find your father already on his way back to the shop. Looking at the two men like this, it's easy to see the family resemblance, since while Rory's the younger of the two, the gap is only about a year and a half. The feature that most distinguishes him from his brother is the bent nose that some jerk broke years ago, and which Rory didn't have the medical coverage to get completely repaired at the time.
"Alex?" your father asks in surprise. "Shouldn't you be headed home?"
"I had a thought I wanted to talk to you about," you begin.
How should you put this?
You decide to honor Cordelia's unspoken wish, and keep the knowledge of her little curse issue private for the time being. However, you also make a note to ask her later if she's told Lu-sensei about it or not. He might know something or someone that could help, and even if he doesn't, having another adult be aware of the issue wouldn't be a bad thing. Briar can only do so much.
You decide to leave magic out of the discussion for the time being, and focus on asking your father and uncle about cars. Specifically, you want to get your hands on some examples of spring steel, but since you've chosen to play things close to your chest this time, you can't just come out and say so without it seeming unusual. Your Dad, at least, would be likely to notice.
Gained Guarded D+++
As you talk, you focus your senses on Rory's garage. You meant it when you said you didn't think he was a necromancer, and you're about half-certain that Briar was just exaggerating about sensing souls trapped in your uncle's taxidermy collection.
Then again, Hellmouth.
Gained Corruption Sense D++
Gained Spiritual Sense D+++
Gained Spiritual Sight D+++
Your cautious probe of the garage yields good news, and bad news.
The good news is that there are no traces of magic within or around the garage that you can detect, which implies that either Uncle Rory is in fact not a necromancer, or that he's one of sufficient skill to hide all manifestations of his power from you.
A cautious, uncle-wards glance out of the corner of your eye reveals nothing of a practitioner's aura about the man. You'll go with "really not a necromancer at all."
The bad news is that your uncle's hobby of keeping the bodies of dead animals around has kind of turned his shop into a hotspot of Hellmouth contamination.
Sad to say, but you can trace the progression quite easily. Animals native to the region are just as subject to infection by demonic energy as humans are, and when their bodies die, the soul - the primary source of resistance to that corruption - moves on, leaving behind a tainted husk. Normally, dead animal bodies don't last long around Sunnydale, as nature or demonic hunger pangs have their way, but when Rory gets his hands on them, most of the bodies stick around for a good long while. Some of them for decades, now. And whatever Hellmouth-energy they'd already absorbed in life has been drawing the ambient demonic power in the environment to them, building it up over time.
Some of that energy appears to have gestated its own quasi-spiritual existence. Not life or sapience by any measure, not even true sentience - but there's something there all the same, a faint presence that could be the seed for a new demonic entity.
Or possibly as many as a dozen of them, you think, taking in the dully glowing points of evil energy scattered about the garage's interior.
Thankfully, you manage to keep your investigation and your reaction to your unpleasant discovery hidden, even while talking to your father and uncle.
What do you do with this knowledge?
Although the presence of the proto-demon-zombie animal-things makes your skin crawl, Uncle Rory's had things like these on his walls for decades without anything bad happening. Yet. And from what you can sense, it'll be some time yet before the stuffed corpses start coming to (un)life and go hunting for flesh, so you don't have to burn down the garage right this instant. Well, hopefully you won't have to set the shop on fire at all - it IS your father and uncle's shared livelihood, after all - it's just that when it comes to methods of purification, it's hard to beat fire for sheer effectiveness.
Leaving aside Uncle Rory's nascent undead animal horde for the time being - and making a note to tell your father about what his brother's accidentally and unknowingly done - you focus on talking about cars. When your uncle asks why the sudden interest, you mention talking with your father about this very subject some weeks earlier, and how since you had time this afternoon, you thought you might as well stop by and talk with a couple of local experts.
That seems to satisfy your uncle, but he and your dad can only spare so much time to talk; they're still on the clock, and even if your uncle does own the place, he's pretty dedicated to his work. At least when the car he's working on belongs to a buddy, or a good-looking woman - or so your father notes, while ducking an oily rag his brother whips at his head.
Gained Mechanical Knowledge (Cars) F+
After sparing you maybe ten minutes for a Brief Introduction to the Wonderful World of Cars, Rory and your dad really do have to get back to work. They offer to let you watch and ask questions, which is nice, but not exactly what you're hoping to accomplish. Rooting through those bins of spare parts out back sounds like a course of action that's much more likely to end with you holding a sample of spring steel in hand. Then again, do you really NEED to obtain that sample right now? Rory's garage will still be here tomorrow - barring the animal zombie apocalypse - and regular lessons in automotive maintenance would be a start towards your plan of making money by magically restoring old parts...
You have an opportunity to watch a pair of experienced mechanics work their own brand of "magic," which feeds directly into your future money-making agenda. Watching, listening, and leaning definitely seems like the way to go here.
As it happens, your father, uncle, and the other two guys working today make for an informative bunch, keeping up a running commentary about what they're doing to which parts of the car, why they're doing it, and what tools are the best for the job at hand. Some of the terminology is simply too unfamiliar for you to make much sense of it, and while you do slip in a few questions here and there, you still come away with the impression that there's a lot of entry-level knowledge you're just lacking.
Gained Mechanical Knowledge (Cars) F+++
On that note, you try asking about useful books on the topic. This prompts some amused remarks, to the tune of, "whatever the high school shop teacher assigned," "the owner's manuals, of course," and "Books? What are those?" After that, you're directed to a pile of automotive magazines in the "waiting area" of the garage - little more than a secondhand couch and table next to the front desk. You get the impression that your uncle's crew are the sort who prefer the hands-on approach to learning, at least partly because they have more fun making mistakes and getting dirty.
When you inquire about scrap metal, Rory just waves you towards the yard and reminds you to be cautious when you dig through the junk. You do so. Unfortunately, you don't see anything on the surface of the bins that makes you think, "oooh, spring steel," and with all the time you spent watching the mechanics at work, leafing through a handful of magazines, and trying to ignore the skin-crawling sensation of a hundred dead, glassy eyes staring at you, you don't have enough time to do more than shift a few spare parts around before your father shows up and lets you know he's calling it a day.
Seeing as how the junk isn't going anywhere, you follow your Dad out of the garage - saying goodbye to your uncle as you go - and down the street a bit to where Tony parked the car.
"Working on that plan to fix up parts already, Alex?" your Dad guesses, as the two of you slide into your seats.
"It seemed like a good idea, since I had the time. Oh, by the way, Dad; Uncle Rory's dead animal collection is kind of possessed."
Your father pauses in the act of turning the key. "'Kind of?'"
You spend the brief ride home explaining what you picked up from your uncle's unsettling interior decor. Your father actually seems vaguely pleased by the end of it.
"I never really liked Rory's hobby," he admits. "He does good work, but the way they stare..." He breaks off with a shudder, and then frowns. "Is he in any danger?"
"Not for the moment, but the longer things stay as they are, the more likely it gets that those animals will wake up and start moving around."
Your father shivers again. "Before it comes to that, then, what needs doing? Much as I'd like to vote for cleansing flame, myself, it'd probably be best if the means weren't so... permanent. If only because Rory's kind of attached to those critters after all the work he put into them."
As you exit the car and walk towards the house, you consider the problem. What is the best way to purify your uncle's garage? You've got quite a few potential methods at your disposal.
You ponder the different methods of purification you can call upon, and how they could be applied in this situation.
You really don't want to risk burning your uncle's garage down, so Fire is out, except as a method of last resort. You're also pretty sure that soaking Rory's creations in liquid of almost any kind wouldn't be good for them, so Water's no good, either. Air and Earth were never on the table to start with - yes, you CAN purify things of evil using those elements, but it tends to take a while, and it's less "purification" than it is "making it somebody else's problem." Wind scatters the taint across a large area, lessening its impact on any one creature, object, or locale within that range, while Earth draws the evil out, locks it up, and buries it. They're perfectly fine approaches when you've got months or years to work with, and don't live atop the inter-dimensional equivalent of a cesspool - shame that you're stuck with the opposite in both respects.
You give some consideration to calling upon the powers of Shadow to sympathetically transfer the taint from Rory's little menagerie into an effigy, which you could then dispose of with cleansing flame. It'd work, but it would also run a pretty high chance of fusing the proto-demons into a whole demon, which would kind of defeat the purpose. Whether through magic or mysticism, Spirit isn't your greatest skill, and the fact that these mini-demons-to-be haven't truly taken form yet would actually make them harder to affect with the little you know than a whole spirit. That still-healing wound on your soul doesn't help matters.
Ultimately, your choice comes down to Darkness and Light.
Given Ganondorf's affinity for Darkness, you are understandably leery of calling upon the element, even though it's one of the better methods for dealing with unwanted spirits. Like the night where its power is greatest, the magic of elemental Darkness excels at concealment, enforcing dormancy, and inducing confusion and fear. You could use such power to prevent the taint in Rory's work from growing any stronger than it already is by "hiding" the animals from the ambient energy of the Hellmouth. Failing that, you could keep any demon-spirits that did manfest "asleep" and inactive, and if worse came to worst, you could intimidate the little monsters into behaving themselves. Though you might have to give them free rein to go after intruders after hours, just so their aggression had an outlet.
Of course, you could just destroy them outright, but that would take some work, as Darkness is a bit trickier and more power-intensive to "weaponize" than its seemingly-benign counterpart. All in all, you'd rather not go down the path of Darkness to solve this issue, which leaves Light - brilliant, revealing, cleansing, SEARING, sweet merciful Din, why are the Arrows being shot at my FACE? Light - as your method of choice.
Once inside the house, you explain your choice to your father, and also mention how it would be best to perform the necessary ritual outside of Sunnydale. That, of course, would require getting all the creepy little dead things out of town, something that, after a good bit of thought, your father admits he can't see happening without Rory's knowledge, approval, and assistance. Like the rest of the Harris Clan, your uncle just doesn't leave town that often, if ever, and since he lives above his shop, he's technically there even on his days off.
"So you're going to tell Rory, too?" your mother asks, as your family sits down for dinner a little while later.
"I'm not sure we can avoid it," your father admits. "Alex tells me those animals of his are going to go all Pet Cemetery eventually if they're left alone."
Your mother shivers, which by now seems to be the standard reaction where your uncle's hobby is concerned.
"I never liked those things," she says.
"Rory does, though, and I'm having trouble thinking of how to sell him on the whole idea."
"We've got time, Dad," you assure him. "I need a couple of weeks to plan everything out anyway. I've never actually done something like this before, so I'd like to take the time to make sure it goes right."
"Amen."
Time passes.
While you work on your plan to de-demonize Uncle Rory's collection of animal corpses, Cordelia and Amy are putting together a batch of spices for transdimensional postal shipment to Hyrule. During one of your little get-togethers, Cordy lets you know that the "sampler" is about as complete as the girls can make it. You thank her, and also take the opportunity to ask if she's talked to Lu-sensei about that little godly curse hanging over her head. It turns out that she has, and that Lu-sensei has been having her work on meditation and the more spiritual branch of the Five Elements Style of late, in preparation for meeting some of those spiritual experts he knows and offered to introduce you to not all that long ago. It may not be enough to direct thwart whatever deity is behind the unwanted and unfriendly attention, but the stronger and more aware Cordelia is in the spiritual sense, the better-prepared she'll be for whatever manifestation that curse ultimately takes when it wakes up.
You don't really regret your decision to not take Lu-sensei up on that particular offer; you already have a lot on your plate, not the least of which is your ongoing focus on defusing or at least diminishing the impact of that Ganondorf-related bomb lurking in your subconscious. It's been slow going so far, mostly attempts to shore up your basic dreamwalking skills and form a more detailed dreamscape, but setting up the rune array on your room was helpful in that regard, since you can now freely cast minor spells that make such practice just a bit easier. Briar obviously enjoys being able to teach you again, even if the bulk of these "lessons" involve her attacking your mind in various states of consciousness.
Actually, that may be one of the selling points...
Gained Dreamwalking E++
Gained Mental Control F++
Gained Mental Defense E+++
Gained Mental Power F+++
Gained Mental Sense F++
Incidentally, your spiritual wound continues to heal well. Briar hasn't revised her original estimate for recovery time; you've still got two months to go before it's fully healed, but the damage has receded to the point where, were you dealing with a broken arm, you could use it. At least a little bit.
Prodded by Cordelia and Amy's progress with the spices, you returned to your uncle's garage a couple of times, keeping up your entirely true cover story of wanting to learn more about cars, while poking through the contents of the bins. On your third visit, an all-day affair arranged with help from your folks, you finally locate a piece of spring steel, which you stuff into your expanded pocket and take home, no one but Briar and the corpses on the walls the wiser.
Gained Mechanical Knowledge (Cars) E
Gained Sleight of Hand F+++
After acquiring it, converting the slightly-bent and dingy sample of industrial steel into a small ingot is a simple matter, albeit one you have to reserve for Lu-sensei's. Converting a few used pop cans is no more difficult, and Larry contributes to the project by getting the fruits and nuts you were planning on sending over. The entire collection is perhaps five pounds in total, well within the Postman's ability to carry - for the cost of a fresh banana, something he's never had before and finds rather interesting.
The following evening, a Tuesday as it happens, you're up in your room going over ritual incantations when there is a tap at your window. Glancing over, you spot Shinshi hovering in place on the other side of the glass.
Waving to let Shinshi know you've seen him, you get up from your desk, hurry over to the window, open it, and then step back. The bat catches the unspoken invitation and flutters forward, making a neat landing on your windowsill.
"Good evening, young sir, chu."
"Evening, Shinshi," you answer. "What brings you back to the 'Dale?"
He opens his mouth to respond-
"Duh," a familiar female voice cuts in. "More messages, obviously. Hey, budge over, will ya, bat-face?"
Shinshi sighs and looks down and to one side, at the shadow-with-eyes that extends down from the window and along the tiles of the roof.
"There is hardly enough room for one of us, let alone both, chu," he chides the imp. "Surely you can wait a few minutes, while I complete my business with young Alexander?"
"Don't call me 'Shirley,'" the imp retorts.
For a supernaturally-intelligent bat working for a family that resides in Japan, Shinshi understands English and Western culture well enough to groan in dismay at the ancient and terrible pun.
"And why should I wait, wings? We got here at the same time."
"...no sense of decorum at all, chu."
"Oi, oi, oi! Are you callin' me uncultured, bug-eater?!"
Briar sighs. "I wonder if Primrose is out there, too."
"It would complete the set," you agree, while wondering if these simultaneous arrivals and the ensuing bickering are going to be a recurring theme.
You shake your head. "Alright, both of you, get in here. I don't want somebody walking by and hearing or seeing you arguing on my windowsill."
Shinshi appears chagrined. "My apologies, chu."
The imp merely grunts. "Alright, alright..."
You don't exactly have a lot of places for an extra-large intelligent bat to hang out, but Shinshi simply flies up to the top of your window, grasps the little wooden bar from which your curtains hang with his feet, and gives it an experimental tug. When the bar fails to shift or bend, the bat lets himself drop backwards, wings extended but beating very slowly, with just enough force to slow his fall. Shinshi ends up hanging back-first against the window, looking fairly comfortable.
In contrast, the imp just slides up over the windowsill and down onto the floor in her shadow-state, and then materializes her corporeal form and takes a spot on the carpet to the left of the window.
You take a moment to look outside. The handful of lampposts lining the street below are spread out far enough to leave large stretches of sidewalk, asphalt, and front lawns sunk in the gloom of the deepening twilight, but there's still enough light for a normal person to see fairly clearly. You don't see anyone other than Mr. Carter three houses down and across the way, who's just getting out of his car and not-hurrying up to his front door.
"Alright," you tell your guests. "We're clear outside, but try to keep it down so my family doesn't come knocking, alright?"
Shinshi gives a wordless nod, the gesture very odd when inverted.
The imp just sighs and mumbles, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
You consider casting a Spell of Silence around your room to prevent anyone in the house - or outside it, for that matter - from overhearing what's about to be said, but your mastery of sonic effects isn't advanced enough for something like that. You're at the level of "all or nothing" when it comes to generating or suppressing sound in an area; selectively preventing a specific conversation from passing an established boundary, while still allowing those involved to talk normally amongst themselves, remains beyond your skills for the time being.
Letting that go for now, you turn to the imp. "Alright. You wanted to talk first, so you got your wish."
The imp blinks in surprise, then shakes her head.
"Eh, whatever. Works for me." She clears her throat, glances at Shinshi, and then begins. "Red got your list, and says thanks. She's also decided to ask if you can get her in touch with the old guy, whether it's by mail or arranging a meeting in person."
You nod slowly, taking that in. Considering that he was gearing up to spy on and/or invade a Hell-dimension, Ambrose might be inclined to reschedule his originally keenly sought-after meeting with Beryl to a later date, but then again, he also might wish to get it over and done with as soon as possible, so he can concentrate on his other business.
"Did she have a preference?" you ask.
"She did say she'd prefer not to travel too much," the imp admits, "but whatever works best for him."
"Okay. I'll write the old guy and pass the word along. Anything else?"
"Nope, I'm done."
"Okay, then." You turn to Shinshi. "Sorry about the wait."
"It is fine, sir, chu." The bat reaches into his fur with one wing and draws out an envelope. "From Miss Kahlua, chu."
But not from her parents, you note as you accept and open the letter.
Alex,
You're such a worrywart! You and your teacher both. And you're also being way too conscious of the formalities. We're kids; we're allowed to make mistakes. I promise, nothing bad will happen if you show up for my birthday. Okay, I'll probably get a talking-to after the party about asking permission, but you'll be fine, as long as you behave yourself and bring me a nice gift.
Kahlua
PS: You are bringing me a nice gift, right?
Huh. That was... short. And not overly encouraging. You get the distinct impression that Kahlua didn't even talk to her parents like you asked her to in your letter. The question is, was that because she honestly didn't think it was necessary, or because she just didn't want to?
You regard Kahlua's brief letter for a disproportionately long period of time, thinking about how to reply. In the midst of your ruminations, it occurs to you that Shinshi is a member of the Shuzen household and should have a fairly good idea of how to navigate the family politics without giving offense - which would be a useful thing for you to know when you're putting together your response. You're on the verge of asking him about that when you note that the imp is still present, watching you with wide red eyes and not a hint of shame.
"Right," you say, folding Kahlua's missive closed and moving back over to the window, which you slide open. Facing the imp, you say, "Thanks for being quick and keeping the noise down. I'll send a response along as soon as possible." You pause, and feel compelled to mention the potential delay on Ambrose's end. "But be sure to let, uh, 'Red' know that the old guy started a moderately large project a few days after I sent her the letter that touched off her little, er, meltdown? So it might be awhile before he gets around to answering. Okay?"
The imp regards you with a frown. "Do I even wanna know what he's up to?"
You consider that.
It occurs to you that, as a (very) minor but still demonic entity, the imp could conceivably have links to the Hell-dimension that Ambrose was briefly stuck in and is now spying on. True, from what Briar's told you, the number of demonic realms is well beyond convenient counting, so the odds against Beryl's favorite messenger being from that one Hell are astronomical. And Ambrose did mention that it was a "classic" fire-and-brimstone sort of place, which doesn't match with the imp's demonstrated affinity for shadow. But even if she's not a native, she might have contacts there - "friends," for lack of a more accurate term - whose fates would be of at least some concern to her.
Even if that's the case, however-
"You probably don't," you said bluntly.
-you'd prefer not to say anything. You don't know for sure which of the myriad Hell-dimensions has Ambrose's attention, and more to the point, you don't particularly care; you're only peripherally involved in the incident at best, and what a crazy but powerful old man chooses to do or not do to a bunch of extradimensional killing machines is not your responsibility. It's not even much of a concern, beyond the minor impact it's had on your life to date.
Gained King of Monsters F++
The imp just nods. "Yeah, s'what I figured. Damn wizards, can't leave well enough alone..." She sighs. "Alright, then. Dunno what Red'll say to this, but I'll take the broad hint and get out of your hair. Later, kiddo. Bat-face."
With that, she turns back into a shadow, slides up the wall, and out through the window.
You wait a moment for the imp's presence to fade, before turning to Shinshi.
"I take it there is an issue with Miss Kahlua's letter, sir, chu?" he inquires politely.
"There is," you admit, before proceeding to explain your reservations - and those of your elders - about being invited to the party by Kahlua herself, without confirmation from her folks. You'd like to know if there's a way to get a more "official" invitation without upsetting Kahlua or getting her in trouble.
"To that, sir, I can only suggest that you should write to Lady Akasha and request her confidence on the matter, before telling her, chu," Shinshi says.
You nod. "Would you mind taking her a letter?"
The bat shakes his head. "While I serve the Shuzen family as a whole, I am Miss Kahlua's servant first and foremost, chu," he explains. "My loyalties and responsibilities are to her, even before her elders, and going around her to them would simply not be proper, chu."
"Even though she's breaking the rule they set about not writing to me first?"
"Even then, chu." Shinshi sighs. "In truth, the Lord and Ladies most likely expected the young mistress to do this very thing, and are letting it pass as an opportunity for her to exercise her independence and cunning - as long as she is acting appropriately, chu."
"So they're testing her."
"Always, chu."
You consider it for a moment. "And they'll be testing me based on how I react to the whole situation, won't they?"
"I would not think of speaking for the Lord and Ladies, sir... but it is very likely, yes, chu."
Hmmm. Well, then; what to do?
You decide to write to Kahlua again. But first...
"Would you object to passing a verbal message to Kahlua, Shinshi?"
"That would depend on the content, chu."
"The content would be the makings of a plan that I don't want her to get blindsided by..."
You explain that you were in contact with a mutual acquaintance of yours and Kahlua's not too long ago, and "heard about" the upcoming birthday party there. That gives you an excuse to write to Kahlua and talk about her birthday, and you still have the meishi she handed to you back in Japan with her official contact information - an address that Shinshi confirms is not for the Shuzen estate, but a private office off of the grounds, where incoming mail of all kinds can be sorted and - when necessary - secured, before being handed off to its intended recipient. If you send a letter that is written to the best of your modest abilities, makes no mention of any previous contact between the two of you, and - perhaps most importantly - doesn't reek of the Hellmouth, that should give Kahlua a perfect opportunity to ask her parents if she can invite you without getting into trouble.
The bat mulls it over. "I think that could work, chu," he finally admits. "I will tell her, chu."
Gained Tactics D++
Since he doesn't need to hang around to carry a letter, Shinshi departs shortly thereafter, winging his way into the night with the energy of a minor purification spell still shimmering about him.
Closing your window, you return to your desk, pack up and set aside the notes on ritual incantation you were working on, and get out a fresh sheet of paper. You spend the rest of the night until bedtime writing drafts of a letter to Kahlua, and before you go to bed, you manage to produce one that you think says what you want it to say, doesn't say what you don't want it to say, and is of sufficient quality to pass muster with Kahlua's folks.
Gained Literacy D
Gained Penmanship D
You'll show it to Lu-sensei tomorrow and ask for further tips on improving your work; Cordy might be able to offer advice as well, on what letters to high-society people are supposed to look like. You'll be able to re-work a final draft from there, and send it off with the Postman on Friday... or perhaps you should aim to send your letter tomorrow? That would require skipping the advice or calling on Cordelia and Lu-sensei before class, giving yourself time to do any needed corrections.
Yeah, that sounds like a plan. You still have a few weeks before Kahlua's birthday to arrange things, but why waste any of it?
The next day, you follow through on that resolution, calling up Cordelia around mid-morning and then meeting up with her at her place. She has prepared for this meeting by borrowing a couple of old letters from her father's office, mail he received from people who weren't business partners, relatives, or established friends of the family. "Compare and contrast" seems to be the name of the game.
At least until Cordelia looks at your letter and smacks you over the head with it for not telling her you wrote the thing in Japanese.
Then she sends a maid to fetch a few books from her room: an English-to-Japanese dictionary; a Japanese-to-English dictionary (Cordy insists that you need both, and not one of those budget pocket books that attempts to do both, only to end up being a pain in the butt to find anything in); a phrasebook; and another title that seems to be on grammar.
You feel like you're back in school. This is a wrong feeling to be having in the middle of summer.
"Suck it up, Harris," Cordelia says with a pitiless smile. "You asked for help, and you're getting it."
"When did you turn into such a geek?" you protest.
"I am not a geek," Cordelia retorts. "I am cultured. There's a difference."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Geeks learn Japanese to read manga and watch anime," Cordelia states confidently. "Cultured people learn it to read the classics."
...how do you even respond to that?
"...pass me a book," you say, trying not to sigh.
"Sure."
Cordelia is generous enough not to rub her little triumph in your face - but you still make a mental note to see about getting her an anime or manga adaptation of a work of classic Japanese literature, in the original Japanese, for her next birthday.
In the midst of flipping open the Japanese-to-English dictionary, you pause, frowning. "What's the definition of a 'classic,' anyway?"
"Something really, really old that people study in university, write other books about, and quote in meetings or at parties to try and one-up each other," Cordelia replies without hesitation.
Huh.
You spend the rest of the morning engaged in study and review alongside Cordelia. You use a simple cantrip to provide a second copy of the letter as you wrote it, then write a version in English, and finally - at Cordelia's insistence - use the dictionaries and other books to hammer together a more exact translation. The latter task is somewhat slow going, as you have to keep stopping to flip through the books, but you make better time at it than Cordelia, who doesn't have the benefit of your refreshed Spell to Comprehend Languages. She actually turns down your offer to cast the basic short-term, low-power version of the spell, wanting to see how well she does on her own merits.
In the end, it's a worthwhile exercise. You find a couple of misplaced words that don't mean what you thought they meant, and you clean up some grammatical issues so that the letter will read more smoothly. That said, if anybody asks, you will firmly deny that you voluntarily cracked a book of educational merit outside of school-related issues, or that doing so had any benefit for you.
Gained Japanese D+++ (E+++ without Comprehend Languages)
Gained Scholar's Soul F
Cordelia graciously hosts you for lunch, but before you sit down to eat, you check the time and decide to make a phonecall to Lu-sensei to ask if he'd mind looking over the revised draft of your letter. Your teacher tells you that would be fine, and to bring the letter by when you come to class this afternoon. He's just cooking lunch himself, and is booked solid for the rest of the day, so he can't fit you in otherwise.
What do you wish to do between lunch at the Chase household, and going to class at Lu-sensei's?
Despite the looming menace of the books and the grim specter of Education that hovers over them, you decide to impose upon Cordy's hospitality for a few more hours. But only because you want to make absolutely sure that your letter to Kahlua and her folks is as well-written as you can make it in the time you've alloted for its completion. You do need to write to Ambrose on Beryl's behalf, and there's that lingering plan of going to the far north (or the even farther south) to acquire ancient glacial ice... but those things won't be hurt by waiting a day.
Gained Scholar's Soul F+
Aside from some further touch-ups to your choice of words and phrasing, the afternoon of book-learnin' also lets you swing by Mr. Chase's office to acquire some supplies. Just looking at the paper and envelopes he has stacked and ready to go on his desk shows a distinct difference in quality from the plain pages of looseleaf that you used for your current copies of the letter. Of course, some of that stuff is formal office-grade stationery, complete with imprinted headers and closing salutations, all set for the use of one "Randall Chase." So they're no help to you. Fortunately, Cordelia knows where her father keeps his plain paper. She also points out a collection of fountain pens and advises you to take one that doesn't have any fancy lettering on it, and also not to break, lose, or drain the thing in the process of writing your final draft - less because she wants it back or thinks her father will care about the absence than because she's not inclined to be generous twice in a row if you screw up the first time.
"Will he miss any of this?" you find yourself asking as you look around the room. There's a triple-row of impressive-looking books along the right-hand wall from the door, a locked cabinet of some kind on the other side of the room, and the impressively large, many-drawered desk situated in front of the broad window at the "back" of the room, comfortable yet intimidating chair behind it so that it will always be framed by whatever light comes through the glass.
"As long as it isn't locked up and has at least five copies of itself left, then no, he won't," comes Cordelia's answer, as she slides open one of the desk drawers and begins digging through the contents.
Your fingers itch to acquire... stuff.
Your fingers itch.
You scratch them a bit, and the feeling goes away.
That settled, you accept a few sheets of blank paper from Cordelia, and pick up a few envelopes as well. You don't intend to send more than one fancy letter right now, and it's not going to be a very long one, but who knows how much formal correspondence you'll have in the future? Best to lay in a small stock while you can.
You are seriously tempted to borrow one of Mr. Chase's fancy pens, but in the end you decide it isn't really necessary. Instead, you call up your mana and channel some of it through one of the fountain pens that doesn't have any lettering on it, feeling out the physical shape and metaphysical presence of the object, so that you can attempt to conjure a recreation of it at a later date. Such an act still lies some time in the future for you - permanent conjuration is HARD, even when it's just a small, simple, nonmagical item like this - but you're getting closer all the time. There's no shame in being prepared to exploit that skill one you've acquired it.
Your control over your power is good enough that, while the pen rattles a bit from the extra energy running through it, it doesn't burst asunder, into flames or song, or have any other undesired reaction(s). Heartened by that, you also "copy" the bits of stationery in your hands - which flutter about as if in a strong wind, but again, aren't damaged or altered - before tucking it all into your magical pocket.
Gained Conjuration Templates (Fountain Pen, Fancy Paper, Fancy Envelope)
Gained Item Crafting E++
Gained Mana Control C
Obtained Stationery
"What was THAT?" Cordelia demands, looking at you warily.
"Which part? The rattling and rustling, or the stuff disappearing into thin air?"
"I know about your magic pockets, doofus, and no, I wasn't asking about the noise. I meant, what was that pressure? What were you doing?"
"I was trying to copy some of this stuff, so I could make more of it later," you admit, frowning. "You actually felt the energy I was using?"
"Yup," Briar confirms.
"It was kind of like..." Cordelia trails off, and makes a face. "Ugh, can't believe I'm saying this, but it was like a scene in Star Wars where somebody uses the Force, and there's that low rumble in the background."
Damn. You thought your concealment was better than that. Or, you think a moment later, maybe it IS that good, and the "problem" is that Cordelia's recent focus on spiritual training has upped her sensitivity to mystical disturbances. Hmmm...
"I think we'd better look into why you noticed that," you decide. "The likeliest explanations I can think of are that my concealment technique isn't working as well all of a sudden, that you've just gotten a lot better at picking up active magic, or a bit of both. Any of those could be bad, if we just leave them alone."
"You're not going to start casting all kinds of spells in my house," Cordelia says flatly.
"No, I was thinking of waiting until class. That way we can get Sensei's take on it as well."
"Decent plan," Briar comments. "For the record, my non-existent money's on Cordelia having gotten sharper spiritual senses, because I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary with that copy-taking technique of yours, Alex."
"Good to know."
Your statement is punctuated by a faint thump as Cordelia closes the drawer where her father keeps his spare paper. She takes a moment after that to fiddle with the knick-knacks on the desk, straightening the pens, shifting the little wire rack that holds the envelopes, and basically re-establishing everything according to some arcane pattern beyond your ken. Maybe her Dad's a neat freak?
When Cordy shifts the hole-punch sitting on the right-hand side of the desk, you frown. You're quite certain the device hadn't been moved since you came in, and you feel an impulse to reach out and correct Cordelia's little error.
"Hey, Cordy?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you move that hole punch from its place on purpose?"
Cordelia pauses, looks at the item in question, then winces. "Ah. Right. Thanks for catching that." And then she shifts the punch back to where it was originally, before glancing at you. "How's that?"
You study the desktop for a moment. "Looks good," you decide, nodding.
"Good. Let's get out of here."
Your conclusion, as you follow your friend back downstairs, is that Cordelia wasn't trying to mess with her father, but rather trying to hide the evidence of anyone having been in the office. Maybe she's not allowed in there without permission?
The rest of the afternoon passes without incident. For all that Cordelia has apparently dedicated herself to mastering the language, your Japanese study session doesn't last much longer. One can only read so much during the summer before boredom and stiff backs force a change of activities. As it happens, the Chases have a very nice pool, and while you didn't bring a pair of trunks, there is an assortment of swimming suits available for guests. You're still half-tempted to conjure up a pair of shorts, but the temporary nature of your work makes you go with the option that won't leave you walking around in the altogether at probably the most embarrassing moment.
Gained Swimming E
You spend an hour and a half in the pool, split up between diving, racing, just floating around, and a few attempts to see who can stay at the bottom of the pool the longest. Incidentally, you win that little contest, as well as the competition to see who can produce the biggest splash, but Cordy beats you four out of seven times for speed. Being a big guy has its drawbacks, and water resistance is one of them.
Gained Water Resistance F
You get out and dry off after that, thank Cordy for a fun afternoon and a tolerable morning, then head home to fetch your stuff for Lu-sensei's class. You arrive at the training hall early, so that you can talk to Lu-sensei about a couple of matters, and Cordelia is there ahead of you, apparently having had the same idea.
Although you are curious about what's up with Cordelia, you decide to stick to your original plan. With that in mind, you pull a couple of sheets of paper out of your pocket and hand them to Lu-sensei, who looks them over with a quizzical expression.
"Working on your multilingualism, I see," he notes.
"Cordy was insistent."
"Speaking of which" - there is a crumpling sound as Cordelia takes a folded-up sheet of paper from her non-magical pocket - "here's my translation, sir."
Lu-sensei's look of bemusement intensifies.
It's another eight minutes or so before Larry arrives - a good six minutes early for class, himself - and by that time, Lu-sensei has read and re-read all three copies of your letter, pointing out a couple areas where the phrasing you chose, while technically correct, wouldn't be used by a native speaker of Japanese. He also mentions that for a formal missive addressed to a member of the Shuzen family, the language you've used is just a touch familiar. It's understandable and excusable, considering your age, background, and the fact that you're speaking to Kahlua as a friend your own age - which is more or less how she addressed you, both at the tournament and in the letters to you that her parents aren't supposed to know about - but it could be neater.
You have a pen in your stuff-space pocket, along with the fancy paper (and some plain paper, just in case) and the envelopes. You've also got five minutes before class begins. You figure that you could copy out your letter as-is into a final draft, but if you make the linguistic adjustments Lu-sensei has advised, you're going to run long - much more so if you decide to re-write half the letter. And you do have Cordelia's little matter to ask about...
You decide to be thorough, and re-write your letter to account for all of Lu-sensei's points and suggestions. After all, you went to the trouble of checking what you'd written against two different sources, so why would you disregard what one of those sources was telling you?
Before you sit down at one of the low, side tables that Lu-sensei keeps in the hall, you mention to your teacher that Cordelia has apparently developed a new skill, and that you'd both like to talk to him about it - though speaking for yourself, you'd prefer to wait until you had a chance to get the letter over, done, and out of the way, so that you could give this new matter your full attention.
Lu-sensei nods, not appearing at all surprised by this development, and then goes ahead and spends the next few minutes before class talking to Cordelia about her magical sensitivity anyway.
You blink, shrug, and then take a seat and start making corrections to your rough draft.
A few minutes later, someone taps you on the shoulder. You look up and find that it's Larry, who nods towards the mats, where Cordelia and Amy are waiting. Lu-sensei is over by the door, talking to Amy's mother, who seems to be apologizing for something. You wonder what it was; Amy looks a bit embarrassed, but Lu-sensei doesn't seem upset, and Cordelia isn't being snarky. Actually, she's less tense than she was earlier. Evidently whatever she and Sensei talked about while you were writing did her some good.
Leaving your paper and pen on the table, you follow Larry over to the mats, limbering up a bit as you go.
Bringing Cordelia's new skill to Lu-sensei's attention doesn't noticeably impact his lesson plan for the day. There's the usual on-the-spot demonstration of forms learned to date, a couple of spars, and discussion and practice of a form you've been working on for the last three classes (counting this one). Your collective ability to perform the move has yet to meet Lu-sensei's expectations: you yourself are a touch too inflexible, and using too much power; while Amy and Cordelia are having some trouble managing the force involved (without resorting to ki enhancement, in Cordy's case). Larry actually had the move down last class, which means he gets to be the assistant-slash-training dummy today.
You can see that Larry has mixed feelings about that.
Gained Agility F
Gained Reflexes F+
Your weekday classes with Lu-sensei typically end at eight minutes to five, though he expects you to spend the next few minutes after that cooling down, either with exercises in the hall or by walking home. Today is no exception, and when you've completed your routine, you find that it's five to five. Glancing at your revised letter, you figure you're about two-thirds of the way done. Completing this draft, getting Lu-sensei's opinion of it, and writing up the final draft ought to take another five minutes. Factor in the spells you want to cast to boost your writing skill and cleanse the letter, plus the time to summon the Postman and see him off with the letter, and you figure you can have everything done by quarter-after five - twenty after at the latest. That's if you don't waste time, don't split your attention, and don't bring up the whole "letter to the vampire princess" issue with the Postman.
You take your time writing the revised draft of your letter, but it's still only the work of a couple minutes. When you get up to hand the result over to Lu-sensei for judgement, you notice that he, Briar, and your classmates are all gathered together.
"Have I missed something?" you inquire, as your teacher takes the sheet.
"We've been testing Cordelia's sensitivity to magic," Amy replies.
"How's that going?"
"So far, she can only sense Briar casting a spell if they're practically touching. I'm a bit easier to pick up on, but not by much - maybe half a meter? Though this is just with basic cantrips," Amy adds. "Stronger spells would be easier to detect at range."
You nod. You're a little put off that they got started without you, but then again, Briar can offer as much of an expert opinion on magic as you can, and while she and Amy may not have as much raw power between them as you do on your own, they're more than capable of running basic tests like this.
"This looks good, Alex," Lu-sensei says then, handing back the letter. "Though a sheet of looseleaf...?"
"I have better paper, Sensei," you assure the old man, before returning to your writing.
It takes you about as long to transcribe the letter as it did to re-write it, though a fair bit of that is because of the magical and ki enhancements you activate to try and improve the quality of your writing. As you work, you can't help but spare a moment to twirl your pen - a real one, not a conjured copy of Mr. Chase's fancy fountain pen; you have no ink cartridges to fill such a creation with, and do not wish to mess around with conjured inks for this - and note how easily your fingers move around the item, and vice-versa. While hardly clumsy, your hands are built more for strength than finesse, and would normally have trouble making a pen follow even this simple pattern without risking dropping it at least once in the process. You've never used ki or magic to augment your capabilities in this manner before, and the results are interesting. Maybe you should practice little tricks like this more often, to improve your manual dexterity?
Gained Dexterity F
Gained Ki Enhancement D+++
Gained Sleight of Hand E
Once again, you finish your letter, taking a moment to cast a cantrip to clear away any smudges, and then a second minor spell to fully dry the ink so that it won't smear. This done, you compare the letter to the draft, nod, and take one of the envelopes from your pocket.
The clock claims it to be two past five; you're more or less on schedule. Walking over, you take note when Cordelia - eyes closed - twitches and turns in your direction. Evidently she didn't notice you casting these spells, which is good, as you were trying to hide them, but apparently she can also pick up on the presence of active spells and enchantments. That's... useful, if even more potentially risky than just being able to sense spellcasting.
Gained Mana Concealment D++
"Done, then?" Lu-sensei inquires.
Wordlessly, you hand him the final draft. He studies it for a moment, nods, and returns it. "Looks good. You'll be calling the Postman, then."
"Yeah. Um... Cordy, should you be here for that?"
Cordelia opens her eyes and frowns. "I'm... not sure, actually."
"Perhaps at a distance," Lu-sensei advises. "Best to see if the presence of strong magic has any adverse effects in a controlled environment, yes?"
None of you can argue with that, and you get down to summoning in short order.
Out of the corner of one eye, you notice Cordelia wincing as you lay down the circle of pure mana, but by the time you reach the end of the drawn-out ritual, she seems to have adapted to whatever strain she's feeling.
The Postman materializes with his usual golden gleam.
"My goodness," he muses, taking in the room. "Quite a crowd, today. Am I doing multiple runs, or...?"
"Just the one letter," you tell him, sealing it into the envelope and casting a spell of purification to drive out as much of the Hellmouth's essence as you can manage. "Though... it's a letter for a vampire."
The Postman freezes in the middle of reaching for the envelope. "Gahwuh?"
You proceed to explain the situation.
"...why are you telling me this?" the Postman finally asks.
"I figured you'd want to know ahead of time-"
"Safe bet."
"-rather than find out about it after the fact." You pause. "Is this going to be an issue? I can send it another way. Probably."
The Postman hesitates, then sighs. "No, no, I can do this. After all, neither monsters, nor demons, nor b-bloodsucking fiends from the b-bottomless depths of the Abyss, with their glowing eyes and pointy fangs and oh Farore, why me? Why did it have to be vampires?"
Okay, he does not seem to be taking this well.
Reaching up and through the boundary of the summoning circle, you place a reassuring hand on the Postman's shoulder. It helps that he's dropped to his knees and is looking towards the ceiling - and presumably, the Goddess somewhere beyond it - as otherwise, you'd have to stretch a little and risk looking kind of silly.
The messenger says nothing at your gesture of support, but does break off his begging for divine mercy to look at you with the eyes of a man in great fear.
"Take heart, Postman," you tell him. "There comes a time when a man must confront his fears."
"But I don't want to," he protests weakly.
"Have faith!" you reply firmly. "You are a man with a mission, and nothing - I repeat, NOTHING - can stop you, if you're determined enough!"
You hear the distinctive smack of faces meeting palms from behind you. You ignore the sound, caught up in your (hopefully) inspirational speechifying.
"Your reputation as a mail carrier is at stake! Moreover, a young girl's happiness may very well depends on your success!" In a burst of bombast-driven energy, you weave a Spell of Illusion, calling up an image of Kahlua wearing a pouty expression - the closest you can recall ever having seen her to being "sad."
The Postman blinks at the ghostly image. "That's... a vampire?"
"From a family that is quite civilized," you answer. "Really, she's just a girl hoping to invite friends, among them myself, to her next birthday party. Will you deny her that simple happiness? I think not! You are a Postman! The miracle of mail is yours to deliver! And neither force of Nature nor machinations of man nor your own fears will prevent you from completing your mission!"
He wavers. You sense there is a need for one more line... and it comes to you, you know not from where.
"Listen, Postman. If there's anyone who can do this, it's you - so do it! And if you can't believe in yourself, then don't. Believe in ME! Believe in the Alex who believes in you!"
"What is that even supposed to mean?" you vaguely, distantly hear Cordelia growl.
You ignore the remark, and the Postman doesn't even seem to hear it, as a light of something like determination, only more so, flashes behind his eyes.
It seems... green.
Gained Farore's Favor D
Gained Words of Power D++
Gained Young King D+++
Rising to his full height, incidentally shrugging your hand off his arm as he goes, the Postman looks down at you and extends his hand.
Wordlessly, you give him the letter. He doesn't crush it in his grip, but you get the impression it would take something like a Darknut to get the envelope away from him. The Postman looks from the letter, to you, to the still-present, now-hopeful-looking image of Kahlua. His expression firms.
"Let's do this," he says.
Without further prompting, you cast the Spell of Undetectable Alignment.
Then the Postman vanishes in a flash of golden light.
After a moment's silence, you dismiss the glowing conjuration diagram and turn to face your companions.
Cordelia glares at you. "You. Are. Certifiably. Insane. You know that, right?"
"I don't know," Larry says, shrugging. "I thought it sounded pretty cool."
A vein at Cordelia's temple seems to throb.
Amy reaches up and smacks him across the back of the head.
"THANK you," Cordelia tells her.
Lu-sensei seems to be trying not to laugh. Briar is muttering something that sounds like, "Where did I go wrong?"
"Now, ladies, there's no need for that. After all, THE GREAT BOAR SPIRIT" - you briefly pause to don a pair of spiky red-tinted sunglasses - "demands HAM."
And then you grin, broadly, as the crystalline material of the exaggerated v-shape gleams.
Everyone stares.
"Right, that's it. I'm going home." Cordelia turns and bows to Lu-sensei, says good-bye to Amy and Larry, trades wordless, commiserating looks with Briar, and then marches out the door. She doesn't even look in your direction the entire time. The door doesn't quite slam in her wake, but there's a definite sense of force when it shuts.
Gained Trolling E++
Behind the glasses, you raise one eyebrow, and turn to the others. "Too much?"
"Maybe?" Larry offers. You note that he doesn't seem entirely sure of that, and is glancing cautiously at Amy as he answers.
"Definitely," Briar says firmly.
"Must you be so harsh, Briar?"
"YES. Now take those ridiculous glasses off. Where did you even GET them?"
You pause, and remove the jagged eyewear, giving its shiny substance a thoughtful look.
It gleams again.
"...you know, I'm not really sure? They were just kind of... there."
Gained Conjuration D+
Gained Cool Shades
"However," you add, as you tuck the glasses into your pocket, "I do look forward to the day when my great and terrible influence sees you wearing a pair of such excellent glasses yourself."
"Never. Going. To. Happen."
"Ruin a man's dream, why don't you?"
"I'll ruin more than that, mister."
With your mail sent and Cordy's departure having neatly axed any planned analysis of her sensitivity to magic, there's not much reason for you to stick around at Lu-sensei's. Unless you want to talk to one or more of those who are still here?