It occurs to you, given the circumstances that led to your waking up in this room, that getting up might not be such a good idea at the moment. You also don't feel that raising your voice would do anything good for the pounding in your brain, and you feel no interest in who- or whatever else might be in what you strongly suspect is a makeshift infirmary for the finals. Instead, you decide to take a more detailed assessment of your status.
First up is your ki, which has for the most part settled back to its normal state. When last you checked, the enhancement techniques you'd piled up had consumed about six percent of your reserves, but the collapse of your hardened aura and the subsequent hasty purge of your active ki techniques ate up a lot of energy, and the blow to the back of your head would have burned up a bit more on top of that, both from the injury itself (however minor) and from your body's natural healing process kicking in. Currently, your reserves are hovering around the 85% mark. The lost energy's not a big deal in and of itself, really - you can make it up overnight - it's just that the circumstances behind the loss are embarrassing.
Next on the list is that goose-egg on the back of your braincase. Some careful prodding and an even more careful ki-based analysis suggest that it really is just a bump on the noggin - hardly a good thing to have, but not nearly in the league of hairline fractures or minor concussions. That's something, you suppose. Bad enough that your miscalculation back in the gym cost you your chance to see the finals; if it had actually gotten you injured on top of that, you're not sure how you'd have taken it, beyond "badly."
Absently focusing some of your ki on your aching head to soothe the pain and help promote healing, you turn the bulk of your attention to your mana. Here, you've been a bit more fortunate, in that being knocked out didn't cause the various self-regulating spells to collapse; they just kept on working until the power you invested into them at the time of casting was used up, at which point they burnt out with no further expenditure. Of course, this doesn't change the fact that casting all those spells slashed your reserve by more than a third, using up most of the remaining energy Gen's Spring Dew helped you to recover. Gauging your reserve to once again be down to 16% mana, you sigh, privately wonder if you're ever going to recover, and resolve to leave what mana you have left strictly alone unless another life-and-limb threatening situation crops up.
Knowing your luck... no, no, you're not going to go there.
You've basically reached the limits of what your current skillset can tell you about your condition, without further expenditure of energy. All in all, you seem to be okay, though if you mean to start moving around, you might want to burn a little more ki to help your body get over any lingering shock from your unexpected trip into unconsciousness.
As you're pondering your next move, you hear footsteps approaching.
Moving gingerly to avoid setting off a head-rush or the like, you start to sit up in bed. You're about halfway upright, the footsteps in the hall thumping steadily closer, when something to your right catches your attention - and not in a good way.
Your plain white single bed is one of four squeezed into this room, suggesting that either not many serious injuries were expected during the finals, or that this is merely the place set aside for less-than-major medical matters. And also that it isn't normally used for this purpose. None of the other beds are occupied, which is fine and not at all what has you worried, and each of them has an empty chair near the head - as does yours. The problem is that, sprawled on the carpeted floor next to the slightly-out-of-position chair by your bedside is one very-much-unconscious Cordelia Chase. Not too far from her lies Briar, her familiar "ball of light" aura dimmed with sleep.
Just as the hairs on the back of your neck are shooting upright with alarm, the footsteps - which seem so much heavier and more menacing all of a sudden - come to a stop outside the door to your left.
You have maybe two seconds before the door opens.
The world once again seems to slow down, as the doorknob smoothly begins to turn in its socket. There is no magic involved, only your mind picking up speed as the adrenaline kicks in - and then going a bit faster as you channel your ki into a full-body boost, augmenting everything you can with a single, somewhat unfocused surge of life-force. The overall effect isn't as pronounced as a haste spell, but that seems like a fair trade for it being quicker to initiate and having other benefits, like refreshing your tired mind and fatigued flesh.
Hearing your heartbeat like thunder in your ears as you stare at the slowly, yet all-too-quickly-turning handle, you sacrifice a portion of your still-abundant ki to create an illusion of yourself lying in bed, turned on your side so that your back is facing the wall. It'll help to disguise the fact that your Doppelganger is less-than-lifelike, by keeping the badly-done details of "your" face out of view for a bit longer. You're pretty sure you remembered to get in the fake breathing, although since this technique doesn't include sound as yet - if it ever will - there's a limit as to how helpful that can be. Even as the image is taking shape, the real you rolls out of bed to the left, aiming for the best source of cover you can find in the room - which in this case, is behind where the door will swing when it opens. Getting there in time requires a brief application of the Body Flicker, and - aware of your previous "overshooting" of your mark - you try to compensate by aiming a little shorter of where you want to be, while keeping your aura as constrained as possible to execute the technique without giving your presence away.
Gained Body Flicker E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Doppelganger F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Concealment E
Gained Stealth E (Plus) (Plus)
There is a faint "thump" as your bare feet hit the floor, further into the corner to the right of the doorway than you wanted to be, but not badly-placed for all that. Simultaneous with your touchdown is the click of the latch, seeming as loud as a gunshot in the eerie stillness of the room. Through the door - both before and after it starts to swing open - your ki sense picks up a bit of the presence of your guest.
The aura is familiar. Distinctly so. Deep shadows, an eerie chill, the sense of a life that is deeply involved with the forces of death and the spirit realm...
It appears that Beryl has decided to pay you a visit.
Lucky you.
You're pretty sure that this explains how Cordelia and Briar ended up on the floor; sleep spells are one of the basics of the enchantment school, which your previous reading of Beryl's aura suggested she was, if not strictly a master, then a very adept student of. It would account for the footsteps, too; after all, if you can magically knock out everybody who's likely to see or hear you, why bother with stealth?
Although the door is fully opened - thankfully stopping about a foot shy of your face - Beryl does not move to enter. Instead, she speaks.
"For the record," she says with some amusement, "I have a tracking spell on you."
...well, crap.
Now that Beryl's called your attention to it, you can in fact feel the faint presence of a spell hanging over you; it sort of faded into your field of mystical notice while she was talking, which suggests she's letting you sense it, and is good enough to hide her spellwork from your casual notice. That's not an encouraging thought when she has you cornered with no adults around, especially since it renders your emergency teleport escape option rather pointless. Really, short of the fortuitous arrival of Lu-sensei, Miss Akasha, or Ambrose, you can't see a good way out of this.
So you take the least terrible of the options available to you, straighten your clothes, and calmly step around the door, doing your best not to appear intimidated by this unexpected visit by a powerful magic-user.
Beryl has traded the fairly stylish black-trimmed purple clothes she wore during the Under Eighteens Finals for a long-skirted dress in the same shade. She's also wearing some modest jewelry that she didn't have on the other day: earring studs, bracelets, a necklace, and a ring, all of which look like they're at least partly made of that dark crystal she was conjuring in her fights; a "belt" of several irregularly-shaped but fairly smooth chunks of the same mineral, which hangs low on one hip; and a couple of clips in her hair. At this range, Beryl's aura is too strong for your mage sense to determine if any of her new trinkets are magical in and of themselves, but you'd be willing to bet good money that at least some of them are. On the other hand, your Mark One Eyeball can plainly see the bruises Lyra left on Beryl's face after their match, despite the admirable job the girl's makeup is doing of hiding the damage.
Between the red shade of her hair, a certain sharpness in her features, and the faintly golden hue of her otherwise dark eyes, Beryl almost looks like an abnormally pale Gerudo. Her build isn't quite athletic enough to pull it off, even by the slightly-relaxed standards afforded to the tribe's spellcasters, and she doesn't have the nose at all, but the resemblance is still more than a little unsettling. Especially since she's about a foot taller than you, and giving you a wryly-amused smirk that you can recall Ganondorf receiving from older members of the tribe when he was still young.
"For the record," you say, "I'm not sure whether I should be honored by this unexpected visit, or worried. Or both."
"Take it as you like," Beryl says, nodding towards the room. "May I come in?"
It's not like there's much you could do to stop her, but you don't say so aloud, instead backing off to one side and gesturing for her to enter. A classic Sunnydale welcome, not that it would have helped if she were a vampire or anything similar, as this isn't a residence. Beryl strolls in and takes a moment to look around, tsking faintly at the sight of Cordelia sprawled out on the floor, and spending a few seconds more studying your Doppelganger. Then she seems to dismiss both from her thoughts as she turns back to face you.
"As we both know each others' names from the tournament, I'll skip the pleasantries." She points at you with one finger, the well-manicured nail glossy with a colorless polish. "You, Alexander Harris of Sunnydale, California, are a ridiculously proficient spellcaster for a boy who hasn't yet turned ten, the more so when one takes into account the time you must have spent developing your other skills. You're carrying an absurd amount of raw magical power, which doesn't look like anything I'm familiar with, and you fairly well reek of long-term exposure to demonic energy, but not the corruption that comes with use of demonic power. You're nosy, more than a bit heavy-handed and opportunistic in the use of your magic, you've got a fair aggressive streak going, and if your current size is any indication, you're going to be a damn giant by the time you stop growing." She pauses, looks at you very intently with a faint flicker of magical light in her eyes, and wrinkles her nose. "You also have a rather rude binding spell on you."
Oh, lovely. She's been paying attention.
"Under different circumstances," Beryl continues, "I would hardly have cared enough to go to the trouble of learning that much about you, even if your clumsy divination did annoy me during one of my matches. However, I'm very reliably informed that a boy matching your description, a girl identical to the one lying unconscious on the floor over there, and an old man who bears at least a passing resemblance to your teacher were caught intruding on a private meeting a couple of days ago. That has forced me to reconsider my level of interest in you."
"How so?" you ask carefully.
"You know something I'm not comfortable with you knowing, and you're reasonably well-placed to make life less than pleasant for me with that knowledge." She frowns darkly. "All in all, you have the potential to become a serious problem for me if I don't take you seriously from the start. I made that mistake once before; I don't make it anymore."
...you feel like you're missing something important, there.
"So," Beryl says. "I want to know who you've told about me, and how much you've told them, and I want to know right now."
What do you do?
A blind man could see that Beryl is going with intimidation as her opening gambit. It's not a bad choice - well, it's bad in the sense of common morality, but it's not an ineffective choice. Most kids your age will talk pretty quickly once an Older Person has made it clear that she is Not Happy and that Bad Things will happen if they don't tell her what she wants to know, but might be avoided if they do. Beyond that, most people - regardless of age - who've seen a teenaged girl throw around high-level dark magic will be inclined to take her a lot more seriously than they would if she were just another high schooler.
You are not most people. Standing to your full height - more for the effect of the good posture than because it will let you loom - you fix Beryl a firm, frowning look.
"You want to know right now," you repeat, keeping your voice steady. "You know, Miss Beryl, I don't appreciate being the subject of scare tactics. You could have simply asked what you wanted to know, without the air of menace, and there was a fair chance I would have answered."
"So you're not going to talk," she half-questions, half-concludes.
"I'll say this much: when I saw your first match, I told my sensei that your aura felt like the one I sensed near that shadow-giant, before it tried to kill us. My sensei who, incidentally, qualified for the Adult Division Finals, is pretty well-known among the upper levels of the martial arts community, and also played a not-insignficant role in keeping the leader of an entire clan of ninja alive during that miniature war the other day, until a friend and I could get there to heal him. Ninja who also know about your involvement with the shadow-man, as it happens."
Beryl winces. Not dramatically, but enough for you to spot.
"I see you get the idea. I will admit, you have all the power right now, but what you don't have is the ability to do something permanent to me or my friends without something just as permanent happening to you." You pause for a breather, and to hold back the menacing growl that wants to work its way out of your throat. "I don't know if you're being blunt because you're having a bad day, or if you're making threatening insinuations because that's just how you do things - and to be honest, I don't particularly care. I've given you at least some of what you wanted; if you want more detailed answers, I would prefer that we dispense with the threats and rude demands and talk like a couple of civilized people. If that's too much to ask, the door is right there."
Her scowl is impressive... but behind it lies a thoughtful look.
Gained Intimidating C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Threat F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Totem of the Raging Boar D
"You don't talk like a child," Beryl says calmly as she studies you. "And you certainly don't act like one. Why is that?"
You frown, not really wanting to talk about the source of your unusual maturity with a complete stranger, especially one who's all but holding you at spell-point. At the same time, you're well aware that lying is seldom a good option - let alone an effective one - against mind mages of Beryl's caliber. In the end, you decide to split the difference, giving her the truth, but only up to a point.
"The short answer is that my physical appearance isn't a good reflection of my mental age, and part of that has to do with where I live. Beyond that," you add, as the redheaded sorceress starts to frown, "it's a personal matter that I don't talk about except with my closest friends. And if you'll forgive me for stating the obvious, we are not friends."
"If you'd suggested otherwise, I would have had to curse you just on principle," Beryl says, bluntly. Then she lets the air of not-quite-menace fall away. "Getting back to the matter at hand, as it happens, I do still want to know who you've told about me. I... will admit that I came into this situation expecting to find a child, however gifted of one, as opposed to someone able to discuss the matter like a... mature individual." She smoothly does not use the word 'adult,' which you have to admit would be a bit silly in this situation. "Given that, if you are still willing to talk, I can certainly meet your terms."
She makes it sound like such a magnanimous gesture on her part. Which of you was the one who started out this encounter by casting spells and making threatening implications, again? But now is not the time to point out such personal failings; now is the time for diplomacy.
"I appreciate your honesty, and yes, I am still willing to discuss the matter. Would you care to sit down?"
"I believe I would." As she takes one of the chairs - across the room from you and your still Doppelganger-occupied bed - her gaze briefly cuts to the floor. "Speaking of which, are you going to just leave your friend like that? We may be at this for some time, and while I can keep her out for the duration, she'll likely have a nasty crick in her neck when she wakes."
It wouldn't be an issue if you hadn't pulled out the sleep spell in the first place, you think but do not say, while considering the question.
With that attended to, you take the unoccupied chair from next to the first bed and sit back in it. "Since we've decided to be reasonable about this," you begin, "how does the idea of trading a question for a question sound?"
"You mean, one of us asks something we want to know, the other answers it and gets a question of their own?" You nod, and Beryl scowls again. It almost seems to be her natural expression. "To be frank, that sounds mutually intrusive and inconvenient. I suppose that makes it a good idea - but as we both have things that we'd prefer not to talk about, I suggest we reserve the right to refuse to answer."
"As long as the one whose question is refused gets to ask another, hopefully less-intrusive question in its place," you counter-offer.
"Agreed. That does leave the matter of which of us gets the first question, though." Her gaze tells you as clear as words what she thinks of that.
"...give me a moment, would you?"
"Of course."
Trying to move so that you don't completely turn your back to Beryl, while also avoiding making it look like that's what you're doing, you walk over to Cordelia and kneel to pick her up. While you're down there, you reach down with your left hand - hopefully hidden from Beryl's gaze by the rest of your body - and carefully scoop Briar up as well. If the fairy were much bigger than she already is, safely and surreptitiously palming her while you lift Cordelia might not be possible. Truthfully, Briar's sleep-muted but still present aura of light ought to have given the whole gig up - but Beryl doesn't inquire after her, furthering your suspicion that she cannot see the fairy.
This isn't really a condemnation of the older girl. Even in Hyrule, most people her age have already become blind to the presence of lesser fairies. It takes a rather remarkable character or some very specific supernatural abilities to retain that particular skill into the late teens, let alone further on in life.
Moving carefully to keep from closing your left hand or allowing Beryl to see it and its passenger, you deposit the unconscious Miss Chase back in her chair. While making a bit of a show of balancing her so that she won't topple back over as soon as you step away, you slip Briar from one hand to the other, before passing your right hand over your bed - ostensibly to dismiss your Doppelganger - and letting her fall, lightly, onto the mattress.
Beryl still doesn't comment.
Gained Sleight of Hand F
Satisfied, you walk around the foot of your bed and take the unoccupied chair on the other side, facing Beryl.
"Considering how I've already answered a couple of your questions," you say, "it only seems fair that I get to go first. Agreed?"
Beryl's lips thin in clear displeasure, but she nods wordlessly.
"Alright, then." You take a moment to think, then decide to show her a little gracious accomodation for your 'victory,' by volunteering a bit more information about yourself. "You noted earlier that I have a rather excessive amount of power and skill for my age, and that I'm not shy about going after more. The first two points, at least, could also be said of you, and I think we're both well aware that no matter what kind of potential we were born with, it wouldn't have amounted to anything if we hadn't worked for it - so clearly, we both have our motives. My primary objective for seeking power is so that I have the best chance possible of surviving the place where I live, of making it safer for the people I care about who don't have my abilities, and, hopefully, one day removing the source of the danger altogether. What about you, Miss Beryl? Why do you seek power?"
Faintly golden eyes blink slowly as Beryl absorbs your words. There is a long pause, but just as you think that she's going to refuse to answer, she says, "Self-determination."
You blink. "I don't quite follow."
"Let's just say that I have prior experience at being manipulated, and no intention of letting it happen again." She doesn't comment further, instead asking her first question. "You mentioned talking to your master about me. Who else do you know of that is aware of your... suspicions?"
It's your turn to scowl. The wording of that inquiry shows that Beryl definitely has experience as a summoner; if she'd just asked you outright who you'd told about her, you could have left off a few names, but as it is...
"Aside from my master and the ninja clan I mentioned, there was also a family of non-demonic vampires, and a wizard and his student." You give Beryl an unapologetic look. "I hope you'll understand that I would really prefer not to give out names. Most of those people have been friendly to me in the brief time I've known them, and giving up their identities to a... less-than-friendly stranger seems like a poor way to repay them."
Beryl doesn't seem to care much for that answer, but even so, she nods, muttering something about "hospitality" and "should have been more precise" that you don't quite follow.
Gained Guarded E (Plus)
Gained Manners E (Plus)
"As for what I said to them, and why," you add, getting a startled blink from the older redhead, "my master mentioned a couple of days ago that the last time they held this tournament, they ended up having to condemn the arena where it took place, after a sorcerer took it badly that his favorite goon was knocked out of the prelims and summoned a bunch of demon warriors to take revenge."
Beryl stares at you, wide-eyed and silent. Seems like she was not aware of that historical detail.
"That story was fairly fresh in my mind when I was heading back towards the seating section from a meeting in the atrium, and noticed a pretty eerie presence that turned out to involve someone summoning something. A rather hostile something, at that, though I did mention to people that it felt like a summoning run amok more than deliberate malice on the caller's part." You frown. "Actually, that brings me to my next question. Why were you summoning that thing in the middle of the tournament?"
"He's a contact of mine," Beryl replies. "He was investigating a matter unrelated to the tournament on my behalf, and one of his suboordinates turned up here to let me know he wanted a face-to-face meeting at the earliest opportunity." Her expression turns gravely earnest. "I hope you and your friends appreciate how lucky you are that the old wizard showed up when he did. My associate does NOT like being spied on."
It's your turn to wince. "If it helps, none of us actually heard anything."
"I'll let him know that, the next time we talk. It should help calm his temper. Somewhat." Frowning thoughtfully, Beryl says, "Honestly, you've volunteered enough information that the only thing left that really interests me are those names." She pauses. "I don't suppose-"
Whatever Beryl was going to say is cut short by the sudden appearance of an infernal portal just inside the room's door. As you turn to regard the whirling disc of flame and darkness, you notice that Beryl is responding in the same manner, and appears startled by the phenomenon.
You have your suspicions as to who might be on the other side of this portal; the timing is just about perfect for it to be Ambrose, but you can't rule out less likely possibilities such as someone from - or simply connected to - the Kurono or Arisawa bloodlines, and there's even the chance that it's another "contact" of Beryl's. Yes, she was surprised by the portal's manifestation, but it might just be that she wasn't expecting company. All that being said, you don't know for certain who is responsible for this magic, and the events of the tournament have left you decidedly unwilling to trust to luck where your safety and that of your friends is concerned.
So it is that you spring to your feet in a flash, your aura briefly snapping into the visible spectrum as your ki surges through your body. Keeping your attention and your ki-augmented senses fixed on the portal - and getting back nothing except a strange twisting sensation, where the fabric of reality itself is being warped in a most unnatural manner - you step into the aisle and then back away, moving closer to Cordelia so that if a hasty escape is needed, you'll be close enough to grab her and Briar and teleport out.
"Do you have any idea what's going on?" you ask Beryl as you move. "Because I sure as hell don't."
"I was about to ask you the same thing," the sorceress replies from amidst the glow of cast and readied spells.
Your ki sense pings then, as a living presence starts to appear within the tormented space occupied by the portal. The life-force you pick up is subdued, feels oddly cold considering the hellish aspect of its means of travel, and carries a distinctive tang of steel.
You know this presence.
A moment later, the portal snaps shut, leaving the Mohra demons Karrokk and Gorn standing side-by-side at the front of the room, the former facing Beryl while the latter has his attention fixed firmly on you. Unlike when you first fought him, Gorn is now armed with a sword akin to Karrokk's; both warrior-demons wear expressions of flat, unfeeling resolve.
You're close enough to Briar and Cordelia to grab them both and make a magical exit. You're about to offer to take Beryl along when she unleashes a spell that fills the entire front of the room with freezing darkness, obscuring the two demons from view - but their faint ki signatures don't vanish. When the dark energy clears, both of the young Mohra are still standing, heedless of the steam-like wisps of energy trailing from their bodies. You can sense their life-force, depleted as it was by Beryl's magic, rapidly rising back to its original strength, as the assassins raise their weapons and advance, Karrokk leaping over the bed that separates him from Beryl, Gorn rushing down the aisle towards you.
As Gorn charges at you, you find your adrenaline-charged, ki-boosted attention being drawn to the glittering gemstone on his brow. Miss Akasha told you the other day that this was the critical weakpoint of all Mohra demons, and that the destruction of the crystal would result in the simultaneous destruction of the demon as well. Casting a Shatter spell on the stone would be a perfect solution, if the spell in question was able to affect magical items, which it can't - and while it's hard to say for certain whether Mohra crystals are enchanted or not, in this situation, you can't really afford to take the chance that they aren't.
As it happens, you do know another spell that has a similar effect on fragile crystalline objects. It's even sonic in nature.
Backpedalling a couple of steps to avoid being spitted on the end of Gorn's rapidly-approaching blade, you roll your shoulders back as you take a deep breath, mana flowing through your lungs, throat, and mouth, reinforcing the delicate tissues and providing a layer of insulation for everything that lies beyond them. In the two seconds that it takes you to do this much, Gorn is able to close and take a swing at your throat, a first strike intended to eliminate the greater part of the magical threat you represent, if not kill you outright. Pulling back as you do keeps the edge of his weapon from landing a fatal blow, but doesn't quite suffice to stop the sharp tip from slicing a cold burning trail across your collar.
It's the first time in this life that you've been cut by a weapon wielded with murderous intent. It's as much of a psychological shock as a physical threat, and you respond to it with a perfectly natural cry of pain and surprise.
The same outburst just happens to complete the spell you were shaping.
Gained Concentration E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Elementalism E (Plus)
Gained Thunder Elementalism F
Amplified by magic to an absurd degree, the Shout erupts from your mouth like the blast of a cannon, taking Gorn full in the face. Caught in the middle of recovering from his initial strike, the young demon is off-balance and unable to dodge, and recoils with a cry of his own, twisting his head back and clapping his empty hand over one ear, while trying to press the other ear against his shoulder. The glowing blood you see leaking from his ruptured eardrums makes it clear the belated protective measure was too little, too late, but for a moment, nothing else happens, and you begin to think that you missed your target.
And then something... cracks.
Deafened by your spell, Gorn can't possibly have heard the noise, but his dark eyes go wide with a shocked realization that Ganondorf saw many, many times. Without being told, without even seeing the wound, he knows that he is dead, that you are the one who killed him...
...and that, heartless demon assassin or not, he doesn't want to die.
You feel an impulse to speak to your enemy - to make an apology, to utter a clever remark, something. At the same time, you can't quite find the words. Apologize for saving yourself from a lethal threat? Quip over the imminent death of what is, despite everything, another child? Neither strikes you as appropriate in the situation, and so you remain silent, stepping back once again as dark red energy begins to pour from the spider's web of fractures in the previously-smooth gem in Gorn's forehead. You keep alert for any further attacks as you withdraw from what you expect to be a violent demise, and it's a good thing that you do, as - with a final, furious cry of defiance and despair - Gorn brings his sword around to strike at you one last time. You can only assume that the critical damage to the gemstone has somehow weakened the young Mohra, because this sword-stroke isn't as swift or as strong as the first, and with your ki surging and your guard up, you're able to see it coming well enough to intercept it and deflect it, striking at the flat of the blade to alter its trajectory. Your maneuver isn't perfect, and the heel of your left hand is caught by the sharp edge, leaving another painful cut.
Gained Concentration E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Weapon Defense F (Plus) (Plus)
That failed strike is the last act Gorn will ever perform; the light is now pouring from his broken gem, a red tide that engulfs his head, his torso, and the rest of his body in a matter of seconds, before the entirety of the young demon's form blazes incandescent blue-white.
And then he's gone. There is no violent blast or spray of gore, no real sense of heat, no unholy lingering stench - only the brilliant light, its sudden absences, and then, the emptiness. Gorn's body is gone, even his sword having been consumed by the strange reaction, with not even as much as a greasy scorch on the floor to mark his passing.
Gained Blooded F
Gained Combat Prowess C
Gained Warrior Born E (Plus)
The sting of the cuts on your hand and collar drag your attention away from the empty space in front of you. You can't see the latter, of course, only the blood that's leaked from it to stain your shirt - and there's entirely too much of that for your personal comfort, even if a part of you dimly recognizes that the wound isn't serious. The gash on your palm is arguably the worse of the two injuries, if only because it would be aggravated every time you used that hand for something.
Gained First Aid F
Your self-assessment is interrupted by a blast and a crash. Looking up, you see only Beryl and a roughly Mohra-shaped hole in a wall that looks like it's ready to fall over. There are cracks everywhere, large pieces of plaster have given up and fallen to the floor - the boards of which are pretty beat-up themselves - and the door seems more like a mass of splinters that just haven't fallen apart yet than a single object. Before your eyes, Beryl raises another of her walls of crystal across the end of the room, double-thick over the hole and the broken door.
Karrokk's exit point aside, you're pretty sure most of that damage is your fault. On the plus side, you managed to avoid hitting Beryl. On the negative side... wow, you really hope nobody tries to bill you for this.
Incidentally, the screaming that you heard earlier appears to have come from Cordelia. It's a bit out of character for her, but then again, she did just wake up in the middle of a battle with demonic forces - you're willing to cut her some slack.
"Beryl," you say, getting the redhead's attention. "The forehead," you state, pointing at your own with your good hand. "The gem. Break it."
Gained Tactics F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
She nods shortly and starts chanting, forming what looks like a series of crystal darts. Through her defensive wall, you can just make out a distorted humanoid form moving forward, sword raised.
"Alex," Cordelia says shakily, staring at something below your face, "you're bleeding."
"I noticed," you reply, before a familiar fairy-sized ball of light zips over. "How bad is it, Doc?"
"Shallow cut, seems to have glanced off the collarbone at the start, not serious as long as it's treated promptly," Briar replies, before moving to study your hand. "Another shallow cut, pretty long but not deep enough to hit a tendon or a major blood vessel." The fairy looks up at you, her expression serious. "Alex, these are sword wounds. What happened?"
"Gorn came looking for payback. He missed; I didn't."
Briar says nothing for a moment, before drawing her wand and beginning to chant a healing spell.
Across the room, Beryl's crystal barrier is ringing in a familiar manner. Rather than allow Karrokk to break through it as he did the other day, the sorceress utters a command that blows the entire mass - and what's left of the room's original front wall - out into the hall as a hail of slashing shards and a minor landslide. The noise is ridiculous, and a large amount of dust is thrown up in the process; when both have died down, all you can see is another sorry-looking wall, peppered with fragments of dark crystal and with the remnants of its neighbor piled up against it. The heap of debris is nowhere near deep enough to conceal a human-sized object.
Karrokk may have made a break for it. Maybe.
Although you have the typical kid's impulse to run away from the scene of what promises to be Big Trouble and deny any involvement - as well as a darker, rather less childish urge to disappear from the scene of the crime before Authority shows up and starts asking questions - you decide to sit tight and wait for the adults to find you. Someone had to know that you were in this room before walls started tumbling down, after all, and you're pretty sure that you'd be in even more trouble if you slipped away and got found out later. And the actual collapse of the wall is mostly Beryl's fault anyway, right?
Besides, there's still a demonic assassin wandering around unaccounted for. Taking Gorn's dazzling death-throes into account, you should have seen a similar light-show if Karrokk died when Beryl threw the local architecture at him. Since you didn't see anything of the kind, it follows that the older Mohra is still alive, possibly injured and pissed-off - in short, not somebody you want to chance running into, particularly when picking your way through a dusty, rubble-choked hallway with Cordelia and Briar. Okay, yeah, you could teleport straight to your room, but that goes back to the whole "fleeing the scene of the crime" thing you want to avoid. Really, it's much better all-around if you just sit tight, keep your guard up, and wait for help to find you.
Gained Law-Abiding F
Gained Listening E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Mage Sense E (Plus)
Gained Watchful D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
...besides, with the way your hands are shaking, working magic probably isn't a good idea right now. Why are they doing that, anyway?
"Was Gorn's blade poisoned?"
"There's no signs of it, why?"
"How about a curse, then?"
The fairy regards you quizzically before casting a divination spell, one you recognize as being specialized for finding curses. After a moment, Briar shakes her head. "Nope."
"...then why are my hands shaking? There has to be a reason, right? Maybe it's some kind of delayed reaction from that mana potion I chugged earlier-"
"Alex."
"-or it could be this bump on the head messing with me-"
"Alex!"
"-pretty sure it's not related to my mana dropping off again, that would have happened before-"
"ALEX!" Briar roars, putting some enchantment magic behind the outburst to ensure that it gets your attention.
"...huh?"
"You are not poisoned, cursed, having a magical allergic reaction, or suffering disorientation due to injury," the fairy says firmly. "You're just getting the shakes. It happens to people all the time after a battle."
"Oh." You frown down at your trembling hands, and try to will them to be still. It doesn't seem to help much. "Why can't I make them stop?" you wonder aloud.
"It'll pass," Briar assures you. "Try not to pay too much attention to it. Or lose your lunch."
"Why would I get sick?" you ask, noting as you do that your stomach does feel a bit... off.
"Who are you talking to?" Beryl's voice cuts in. You look up and find the redhead sorceress regarding you with another frown. There doesn't appear to be a mark on her that wasn't there before this little bout of mayhem, mute testimony to the usefulness of magical defenses.
"What is she doing here?" Cordelia says sharply.
"I'd kind of like to know that myself," Briar mutters. "And if it has any relation to why I have the sort of headache I get after someone uses a Sleep spell on me, or why you were fighting demons to the death."
You're uncertain who you should answer first: the wary sorceress who could make your life very short, were she so inclined; the irritated best female human friend who could make your social life hell, if you don't answer her quickly and to her satisfaction; or the suspicious fairy partner who could make your life rather painful and awkward, if given a reason to break out the traditional fairy pranks. It's the rapidly-approaching footsteps that help you make your choice; it's not like Beryl would be stupid enough to attack you in front of witnesses, whereas Cordy and Briar have no such guarantees on their sense of restraint.
"Cordy," you say, "Beryl's here because she wanted some answers about why I was scanning her during the tournament. It turned into a mutual question and answer session, although we ended up getting interrupted by a couple of uninvited Mohra demons. And Beryl," you continue, turning to the older girl, "I was talking to my invisible friend."
She blinks.
"And I'm counting that as one of your questions," you add, giving her a cheeky, slightly unsteady smile, and getting a chilly glare in response. "Any further ones are going to have to wait, because we're about to have company."
Gained Trolling F (Plus) (Plus)
The words are barely out of your mouth when you hear what sounds like someone turning a corner, stopping as they catch sight of the collapsed wall, and letting out an astonished oath. You don't catch the precise phrasing, as the words are drowned out by the clatter of other feet.
"We're in here!" Cordelia calls out, getting off the chair. "We're okay!" She glances at your bloodstained shirt and hand, grimaces, and adds, "Sort of..."
You hear a tangle of surprised whispers, most of which are expressing disbelief at finding a kid alive and well in the midst of the destroyed room.
"We're glad to hear that, Miss," an unfamiliar voice calls back. "Please remain calm and stay where you are. There may be additional explosive devices in the area."
Cordelia blinks. "Explosives? What are you talking about?"
"We've already called for the bomb squad," the voice continues in a low, soothing tone meant to project reassurance. "As long as you stay put and give them time to do their job, we'll have you out of there within the next couple of hours. If I may ask, who else is in there with you?"
"And that is my cue to leave," Beryl says in an undertone.
"Oh, heck no," Cordelia snaps, rounding on the redhead. "I don't care if you call up the unholy spirits of bad Eighties hair bands, you are not running out and leaving us to get pinned for the mess you made!"
"The mess that I made?" Beryl replies. "Perhaps it escaped your notice, little girl, but at least half of that mess is due to your friend here!"
"'Half' is still a long way from 'all,'" Cordelia retorts. "If we're going to get in trouble for Alex's latest mystical screw-up, it's going to be over what HE did, not what YOU did!"
"Why am I suddenly a screw-up?" you ask Cordelia.
"Because you halfway wrecked an entire wall? Honestly, couldn't you have been a LITTLE more careful?"
"Well, excuse me for having a demon trying to cut my head off! And I was careful! I didn't hit anybody except Gorn with that spell!" You pause and glance at Beryl. "Unless I caught Karrokk with the edge of it...?"
"Don't know, don't care," Beryl replies, magical energy beginning to build around her in the familiar patterns of a teleport. "Enjoy your talk with the authorities, kids."
"Er, excuse me?" the adult in the hall says then. "Miss? What's going on?
All things considered, you really don't feel like bothering with Beryl any more today. Rather than spend any of your once-again dwindling mana trying to hold her here against her will, you simply smile and wave good-bye. She makes a sound of annoyance and then blinks out before you can get off any of the farewell lines you were considering. It would seem that your witty banter still needs work, at least in the area of timing. Oh well; one more thing to occupy your copious free time.
Sighing, you rub at the back of your neck, which is feeling a bit stiff after your self-enforced nap and the more recent, rapid evasion of Gorn's blade, and then make slowly for the... well, the hallway.
"Where are you going?" Cordelia bursts out, coming up and grabbing you by the elbow.
"I need a shower, a change of clothes, and possibly the opportunity to throw up in private," you reply, conscious of your still-shaky hands and unsettled stomach. "I'd really rather not waste time hanging around waiting for the cops to hunt down a bomb I know isn't there. What about you?"
The brunette frowns. "Well, when you put it that way... but what were you planning on telling people?"
"More or less the truth. Sword-slinging nutjobs tried to kill us, there was structural damage, and I want to talk with Lu-sensei before I answer any other questions. I'm pretty sure they have to let us do that anyway."
The dozen or so adults crowded at either end of the hallway have a collective freak out when you step into the rubble-strewn corridor, and your attempts to assure them that you're confident there are no explosive devices concealed on the floor don't exactly go over well, despite the lack of booms lending credence to your statement. Once you and Cordy are clear, the adults hastily usher you away from the "danger area" and into the care of a couple of the hotel's gym assistants, who've evidently cross-trained as paramedics. The blood on your shirt and hand gets a lot of attention at first, until it's clear that - thanks to Briar - the wounds are already closed. Then you get even MORE attention, as the two start bending their brains into knots trying to explain the source of the blood, which LOOKS exactly like it should if it was yours, but has no visible sources and is, as far as they can tell, simply there.
Your story about crazy people with swords doesn't seem to even register, and nobody even asks about Beryl. When you don't volunteer any information on the older girl, Cordelia follows your lead, though not without giving you a meaningful look.
Perhaps five minutes later, Lu-sensei shows up, limping slightly and looking more worn than you can recall seeing him, other than shortly after his fight with the Hawaiian sorcerer. He takes in your appearance, the babbling and gesturing of the paramedics, and the fear-turned-to-anger remarks of how you simply walked out of a room where a bomb had gone off, and nods calmly. Then his hands blur, and both men stop what they were doing and just stand there with vacant expressions.
"Wait outside, children," Lu-sensei says, gesturing towards the door. "I'll be along just as soon as I've had a few words with these helpful gentlemen."
"Uh, Sensei?" you ask, staring at the blank, zombie-like expressions of the paramedics. "What did you do?"
"Ki-laced pressure-point strike, blocks out certain components of short-term memory," your teacher says clinically. "Hurry now, Alex; I need to get the cover story in place before they wake up."
You wait in the hall with the girls for perhaps thirty seconds before Lu-sensei exits, making polite noises of gratitude. "Come along," he says, after the door has closed behind him. "We'll talk back in our room."
There is an edge of seriousness in Lu-sensei's tone that forestalls and possibility of talking until you have returned to your suite. By then, the shaking in your hands has faded, your stomach is mostly settled, and the blood on your collar and hand is fairly dry.
"So," Lu-sensei says, looking from you to Cordelia and then back again. "What happened?"
You're tempted to just give Lu-sensei a quick recounting of the highlights, so that you can move on to getting a shower and a change of clothes, but once you start talking, you find that you can't stop yourself from going into detail about everything that happened since you opened your eyes in the makeshift patient room. Feeling remarkably tired all of a sudden, you settle into one of the chairs - careful not to grab it with your bloodstained hand - your narrative continuing uninterrupted. Cordelia mimics your action, taking a spot on the couch, while Briar hovers near you, giving your closed wounds another, deeper inspection while she listens to your words. Regardless of whatever's wrong with his leg, Lu-sensei remains standing, regarding you impassively.
You talk about finding the girls unconscious, of Beryl's magically-concealed arrival, and of the brief clash of wills that led to your little question-and-answer session. An account of the unexpected intrusion of the Mohra demons follows, and next is a clinical assessment of your brief fight to the death with Gorn. You conclude with your observations and estimations of Beryl's fight with Karrokk, the arrival of the adults, and Beryl's mystical exit.
Gained Honest E (Plus) (Plus)
Throughout it all, you are surprised at how... calm your own voice is. No, not calm, exactly. "Detatched" is a better description. Particularly when you get to the part about fighting Gorn. You find that you're not really eager to think about that, let alone talk about it, and that ignoring what you feel about the incident helps you to get the words out.
Gained Traumatic Memories F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
"Alex," Cordelia asks when you finally stop speaking. "Are you okay?"
"I think I may be in shock," you admit. The sensation is vaguely familiar to you from Ganondorf's memories - very distantly so, as he'd grown accustomed to a life of violence long before he ever took up the Triforce of Power, while after that point, he'd set aside most such mortal frailties and never given them another moment's thought.
"Just a little," Briar concurs. "I've eased the symptoms a bit so you don't end up having a panic attack or anything, but it's really unhealthy to completely shut off one of the body's normal responses, so you're still going to have to deal with the aftereffects. They just won't be as bad as they might have been, otherwise."
"Oh. That's good. I guess."
Gained First Aid F (Plus)
Lu-sensei, meanwhile, has not budged from his starting position, though his expression has shifted. Eyes widened with surprise, narrowed intently, closed in brief winces of sympathy - your master has shown these responses, if somewhat muted, before settling back into his original, wise old man's mask.
"Is that everything, Alex?" he asks.
You think things over a second time, and nod.
"Alright, then. I appreciate your candor." He sighs. "I also owe you, both of you, my deepest apologies for being absent when you were in such danger." And the old man bows, deeply formal.
"Oh, Sensei, don't," Cordelia starts.
What do you say?
Taking your teacher's suddenly formal manners as a guide, you get to your feet.
"I accept your apology, Lu-sensei," you say, trying to sound as serious and respectful as you can under the circumstances. "I also hope that you will accept my apology for my role in these events. If I'd paid more attention to my spiritual defenses during the finals, this entire situation might have been avoided." Or at least delayed until your teacher was present to assist, you think, but do not say, as you bow in turn.
Gained Manners E (Plus) (Plus)
"That isn't necessary, Alex," Lu-sensei replies. "I am the adult here, it was my responsibility-"
"But my actions made things more difficult for you," you counter.
"That doesn't absolve me of my mistake in judgement-"
"Sir, you had no way to know-"
"I had every reason to suspect-"
"If we're going down that road, so did I-"
You're both cut off by a sudden high-pitched whistle. Turning your head, you find Cordelia just lowering her fingers from her lips, looking none too thrilled.
"Now that I have your attention," she says, "are you both seriously trying to take the blame for what a couple of evil demon assassins decided to do?"
With some effort, you trade glances with Lu-sensei.
"Oh, god, you are." The brunette facepalms. "Look, I think we all know - and will you two unbend already, so I can yell at you properly?"
You quickly straighten up, as does your teacher.
"Better," Cordelia says tersely. "Now, as I was saying to the sides of your thick heads, I think we all know, or ought to know, that the demons were the ones at fault here. Yes, it would have been nice if Sensei could have been there to judo chop them into submission, but they were assassins; jumping the target when he's alone and unprepared is kind of a thing. I'm willing to bet my favorite pair of designer shoes that if Alex hadn't had his little fainting spell, or Lu-sensei had been in the room with us, the demons would have waited for a better opportunity. And there's really nothing any of us could have done to change that."
You open your mouth, ready to speak of the numerous divinations and wards you could have used to at least get forewarning about the Mohra attack, if not prevent it entirely, but Cordelia silences you with a glare.
"Cordelia," Lu-sensei begins.
"Am I wrong, Sensei?"
"...well, no, but it's terribly rude to just interrupt two people when they're trying to apologize to each other."
"If being polite means acting like a ninny and throwing your back out over things that aren't your fault, I'll pass. Besides, don't we have more important things to do than play the Blame Game? Like talking to the cops and not getting arrested for blowing up a room? Or trying to find out if we should worry about more psycho killer types coming out of the walls at us?"
Lu-sensei sighs and rubs his bald head. "You aren't wrong," he admits. "Amazingly tactless, but... not wrong. Alright. I'll call the front desk, let them know that they can send an officer up to talk as soon as one gets here. Then I'll need to make some other calls, see if anyone can fill me in on the specifics of dealing with Mohra demons. Alex, I accept your apology, I thank you for accepting mine, and you should go ahead and get cleaned up. I'll be right out here; if another portal opens up, yell."
Is there anything you want to say or do before, or after, you've washed and changed?
Nothing urgent comes to mind that isn't already being attended to, or that can't wait until you've cleaned up, so while Lu-sensei goes for the phone and Cordelia heads for her room, you withdraw to your bedroom, grab a change of clothes, and then hit the shower. Whether it's due to the hot water, Briar's spellcasting, or just your body's natural recuperative processes at work, by the time you turn off the shower and start toweling dry, you feel much better. Your hands aren't shaking anymore, your stomach is as settled as it ever gets, and that detatched sensation - while still present - has lessened somewhat.
It really helps that you haven't sensed so much as a blip on your mage sense this entire time, aside from Briar's presence hovering outside the door.
When you emerge from the bathroom, you find Lu-sensei talking to a pair of nondescript fellows, one middle-aged, one younger, both of them wearing uniforms of an unfamiliar style that nonetheless say "policeman" as clear as day. Cordelia is standing near the back of the room, her attention fixed on the strangers, with Lu-sensei directly between her and them.
"Ah, Alex," your teacher says. "Let me introduce you. These gentlemen are Sergeant Fujita and Officer Douji. Officers, my student, Alexander Harris."
You bow, voicing a polite greeting, as do the two cops.
"If you feel up to it, lad," Lu-sensei continues, "they would like to ask you a few questions about today's incident. They also assure me that you don't have to talk to them right now; it can easily wait until tomorrow, if you'd prefer."
It's been a long day. You've gone through the shock and awe of multiple master-level bouts, faced the dreaded stairs of a traditional shrine, worried about a friend going mad from the revelation of just how loose the laws of physics become around high-end martial artists and magic-users, endured a very unexpected encounter dating back to your previous lifetime, survived a shopping expedition with a bunch of girls, and lived through a fight to the death. You were up before the sun, it's - you glance at the clock - closing in on eight p.m., and now a couple of professionals would like to interrogate you.
All things considered, you feel fully entitled to say not only "no," but "hell no," to that idea - though since they are the police, it occurs to you to be more polite about it. Which you are.
Gained Guarded E (Plus) (Plus)
While the younger officer, Douji, is visibly put out by your stated preference to not immediately tell all you know for the edification of officers of the law, his senior companion merely grunts and lets you and Lu-sensei know that they'll be expecting you at the station tomorrow, at any time after nine. Without being overt, rude, or remotely threatening about it, Sergeant Fujita makes it clear that it would be in everyone's best interests for you not to be late. Then, with a polite tip of his hat, he ushers himself and his frustrated-looking partner out of the apartment.
There is a long silence after the door closes, ultimately broken by a sigh of relief from Cordelia.
"Problems, Cordelia?" Lu-sensei asks.
"Is that what normal policemen are supposed to be like?" the brunette counters. "Because for the record, I've met five of them back in Sunnydale - eight, if you count the rent-a-cops from the company that handles our home security - and after just ten minutes with that Sergeant, I get the feeling that he's more competent than all of them put together."
"You're not wrong," your teacher agrees with a disheartened sigh. "I've lived in Sunnydale for over twenty years now, and the number of moderately capable policemen I've encountered in that time can be counted on two hands, with several fingers left over. None of them ever made it beyond Lieutenant rank, more's the pity... but that's a matter for another time." He turns to you. "And I'm relieved that you decided not to talk with them before we had a chance to get our stories straight, Alex. I apologize for forgetting that and for not warning you ahead of time, but they showed up just as you were getting in the shower, and as Cordelia says, Sergeant Fujita really seems to know his job."
"It's fine, Sensei," you assure him. "After all we've been through today, I doubt any of us are thinking completely clearly."
On that note... it really has been a long day. Is there anything else you want to do, or would you like to call it a night?
Though you're fatigued by the events of this long, busy day, you decide to hold off on going to bed a bit longer, so that you can try to get your story straight for when you talk to the cops tomorrow. Everyone else seems to think this is a reasonably good idea.
Early in the discussion, Lu-sensei admits that telling the complete truth about the incident is not the best option. It might work if the officer who conducts the interview is both aware of the supernatural and on the side of the angels, but Lu-sensei's own experience is that big city cops who are the former have about a forty percent chance of being the latter; too many sorcerous cabals, demonic cults, and plain old criminal organizations find it advantageous to have eyes and ears in the structure of law enforcement, and that's before the lone, high-functioning crazy types get taken into account. Regardless of where their allegiances lie, simply confirming that the person you end up talking to is in the know would probably require you to risk your "mostly normal kid" cover in some manner, and if you pick the wrong person to come clean with, you'll only have more problems.
Your teacher feels that a partial truth would work best. You were in the infirmary for observation after a collapse, Cordelia stayed with you but ended up taking a nap after the day's events, and then Beryl showed up to talk. You're reluctant to mention the older sorceress's presence, but Lu-sensei counsels you to admit that she was there; the odds are good that forensics will figure that much out, and if you've admitted it before they get evidence, it makes you look honest rather than like someone with something to hide. As for the Mohra demons, Lu-sensei advises that you stick with the basic premise that they showed up to take revenge for their losses. Bad sportsmanship and vengeance are motivations that the cops will be able to understand, even if the swords sound a little out there even for a martial arts tournament. A fight ensued, there was screaming and shouting, one of the attackers got pitched through a wall - you had your attention fixed on the guy threatening you with a sword, so you didn't see that part until after the fact - and then the wall fell down. When the dust cleared, Gorn and Karrokk were gone, and Beryl took off in a hurry when you heard the adults coming.
Again, you're leery of bringing up Beryl's involvement, especially her hasty retreat from the scene of a crime, but nobody else in the room feels that you should cover for her. Even Briar, who has the best idea of just how much trouble an angry sorceress can be, is in no hurry to smooth things over for Beryl after she left you to take the rap for the whole incident.
It takes over an hour to get all that sorted out. After you have a tentatively agreed-upon cover story, Cordelia calls it a night, and Lu-sensei isn't far behind her, waiting only long enough to get your promise that you won't be up too late before seeking his own bed. That leaves you to discuss your ongoing preparations for the familiar ritual with Briar.
As it stands, you have three good quality reagents. Kagome's ofuda will work very nicely as a representation of Spirit, and between the youkai wing and the horse's hair, you have Shadow covered. Life is similarly handled, whether you use the horse's hair or some of your own blood, and you have options either in hand or in mind for Wind, Earth, and Light. That leaves Fire, Water, and Time still unaccounted for. Going back to Gen's at this point won't really help, since you already bought one reagent from him and performed a service to get another, so you've pretty thoroughly depleted the mystical potentials of his shop - unless you want to go back and steal something. Speaking of magic shops, though...
Wandering over to the phone, you call up the front desk and ask if there are any messages for you. Sure enough, there's one from the last store you called yesterday while tooling around on the net in search of mana potions. It's fairly ordinary, the woman whose voice was on the answering machine thanking you for your interest and rattling off several of her wares that she believes would meet your needs at reasonable prices. The recorded message ends with the lady, Gemma, asking you to call back or visit; her shop is open all night.
At the end of a day that has by turns been constructive, terrifying, friendship-affirming, and life-threatening, all you want to do is sleep. And so, after a quick change into your sleepwear, you flop onto your waiting mattress and let unconsciousness carry you away...
...naturally, it's not that easy.
Oh, you get to sleep without much trouble. Busy days and the fatigue they engender are good for that, if nothing else. The problem is that almost as soon as you go under, you start dreaming - and not surprisingly, what you dream of is violence, battle, and death. Tall, proud knights clad in perfect lines of gleaming steel; pudgy, trembling militia whose armor hardly seems to fit; clever merchants with quick knives; desperate peasants with only the tools of their livelihood; graceful fish-men with silver spears; huge stone-skinned beings armed with nothing but their own tremendous strength; denizens of shadow, invisible but for their cold, vengeful eyes as they strike from concealment; all these and more besides fall beneath a dark sword and darker magic.
The sword is in your hand. The spells flow from your mouth and fly from your fingertips. And you feel no hesitation or guilt about these acts, no respect or pity for those whose lives you end. All that stand in your way are the same, mere blades of grass to be cut down and burned out.
Normally, you'd wake up from this sort of nightmare after a few scenes. For that matter, if you'd taken a few minutes before bed to get yourself in the correct frame of mind to attempt a dreamwalk, rather than just letting yourself go, you'd at least have a chance of reshaping this unpleasant vision from your subconscious into something more tolerable - maybe even ending or preventing it outright. But you didn't do that, and now you're stuck with one of those dreams that just refuses to let you go.
It's a long, unpleasant night. It would be a lot worse if the images you were experiencing - reliving, you've no doubt - weren't as blurry as they are. The muffled cries of faceless victims, while disconcerting, are less real than even the fake deaths in a movie or video game. Still not enjoyable to witness, by any means, but they could be a lot worse.
When you finally wake, it's by no special virtue of your own. Rather, you come to because the sun is in your eyes and someone is knocking on your door.
"Alex?" Cordelia calls, her voice muffled. "Are you up?"
"Mnnrg," you reply.
"...uh-huh. Look, it's almost seven. If you want to sleep in, that's your call; just remember, we've got an appointment." And with that, she walks off.
The bed is comfy and warm. Your head feels like it's packed with wool, and the sun is very annoying. In short, you don't want to get up. You just want to lie here and sleep...
Instead, you sigh, flip back the sheets, and half-rise, half-fall from your resting place. Though the bed sings a siren song of sleep, you ward it off with the knowledge that you have an Important Meeting to attend in just two hours, one that could have Consequences if you fail to do everything just right. Oversleeping would not be doing things right.
"Ow, wow," Briar says from somewhere off to your left. "Alex, you look horrible. Are you sure you want to get up?"
"Want to?" you reply, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. "No. Is Lu-sensei up?"
"Uh, yeah, for a while now. Why?"
"Ask him to be drill sergeant while I warm up?"
"...okay?"
You spend the next twenty minutes in a room just off your suite's balcony, the sun shining through the sliding glass doors and Lu-sensei on hand to deliver biting criticism and the occasional thump when you screw up - which you're pleased to note stops happening after the first five minutes. Once you get the blood pumping and the ki flowing, your thoughts clear up well enough for you to trust yourself not to pass out in the shower. As a precaution, you let the water run cold. After that, you dress in the closest you have to formal clothes and scarf down a modestly-sized breakfast, while fielding casual conversation with your companions. You admit to having slept poorly, recite your agreed-upon account of the previous day's events, and leave a request to be woken in time to get down to the police station, in case you doze off.
After that, you grab a spot on the floor, close your eyes, and focus on breathing. At a word from Lu-sensei, Cordelia joins you, and your master sits in on the session, keeping up a low, chant-like, running advisory.
"Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out... order your thoughts, and then set them aside... consider the state of your body, and then set it aside... reflect upon the time, and then set it aside... listen to the world around you, and then set it aside..."
Somewhere along the way, you stop hearing your teacher's words, Cordelia's breathing, the flutter of Briar's wings, or the morning traffic of the city below. It's just you and your breathing. Then it's just you. And then...
Gained Concentration D
Gained Meditation E
The next time you open your eyes, you find that Lu-sensei is in the midst of shaking Cordelia out of a daze - or more likely a doze, if her slow, deep breathing is any indication. You, on the other hand, feel decidedly less sleep-addled than you were... an hour ago? You were really out that long?
"Nicely done, Alex," Lu-sensei says. "You appear to have made some real progress with this session."
"I think you're right, Sensei." You take a moment to consider your overall condition. Your ki reserves, already very nearly topped out when you first woke up, have closed that remaining gap; your mana, meanwhile, is slightly shy of 23%, almost two percent higher than it was after that rotten night's sleep. Now, if you can just keep it there...
It's 8:37 when you leave your apartment, riding the elevator down to the lobby, where one of the desk attendants informs Lu-sensei that the taxi he requested is waiting outside. You hustle out into the vehicle, and after about two minutes of waiting for an opening to appear in the morning gridlock, are off. Once you're actually part of the traffic, as opposed to an intruding obstacle, you move along at a good pace; your driver clearly knows his way around the city, and while you completely lose track of where you are, he drops you off just down the street from a building that has a large police shield on the front. A nearby clock informs you that it's still ten to nine.
Lu-sensei pays your driver, and you head for the station. Though you're a little early, the officers manning the front desk send you on with an escort, who guides you to a waiting room on the third floor. You're here all of three minutes, if that, when Sergeant Fujita enters from a side door. He regards the three of you for a moment before nodding shortly.
"Good morning, and thank you for your punctuality."
The Sergeant explains for you and Cordelia that, by procedure, the members of your group will be questioned separately. Lu-sensei will go first, and will then be present when each of you kids give your statements. If anyone tries to talk to you while your teacher isn't present, you don't have to respond - indeed, you shouldn't.
After the Sergeant's explanation, he leads Lu-sensei into an adjoining room, leaving you and Cordelia - and Briar - under the somewhat-attentive eye of a younger officer who is attending to a pile of paperwork.
Do you want to go after Sensei, or would you prefer to be the last one questioned?
While it's very tempting to start probing the station for any paranormal presences, you decide that it would be better to keep up your "ordinary, harmless, innocent kid bystander" guise, and avoid potentially giving yourself away to any police practitioners. That shuts down a lot of options for how to pass the time, you don't feel like pressing your luck another way by getting up wandering around or trying to eavesdrop on Lu-sensei's interview, and a quick glance at the available magazines shows them to be the Japanese equivalent of the "literature" you've seen at the dentist's office back home. In other words, boring beyond belief. You kind of regret not bringing one of your recent purchases along, but then again, any of the writings you got from Gen would stand a fair chance of breaking your personal masquerade.
It's a good thing, then, that Cordelia is here with you.
"So," you say, turning to the brunette, "I'm leaning towards going next. You have any objections to that?"
"Tons, but I've got just as many about going next myself." She hugs her arms to her chest. "I swear, this has to be what it feels like to get called to the principal's office - only about a hundred times worse."
You'd have to agree with her estimate. Perhaps due to the Hellmouth's influence, not a lot of kids in your school end up facing disciplinary action, and when such measures are taken, they're limited. Extra homework, extra detentions, calling up the parents, suspensions, and the "ultimate punishment" of expulsion - which doesn't really seem like much of a hardship even to your mind, which has a mature enough perspective to appreciate the long-term consequences. Then again, you also have Ganondorf's memories of some of the punishments his teachers would come up with. If a student didn't pay attention in the sparring ring, she got whupped but good - without any special action from the instructors, even - and Koume and Kotake could be alarmingly creative when they had a slacker or troublemaker to straighten out. Even Ganondorf didn't escape the rod when he was younger, mostly because of accidents when he was still learning the limits of his power - and sitting here, waiting for your turn to be questioned by officers of the law, definitely has more of the feel of waiting for the judgement of a Gerudo master-at-arms than facing the decidedly more constrained authority of a schoolteacher.
Lu-sensei and Sergeant Hajime remain shut up in the room for perhaps forty minutes. You pass most of this time talking to Cordelia about whatever subjects come to mind, with a distinct bias for the normal kid stuff that the nearby officer won't balk at hearing. At one point, it occurs to you that you never got around to asking Lu-sensei how he did during the finals; when you mention this to Cordelia, she says that Lu-sensei made a trip to the infirmary after his quarter-final match (which he won), taking advantage of an injury that gave him that slight limp to check up on you. Cordy's pretty sure that your teacher's lack of a subsequent appearance means that he won his semi-final bout as well, but she's not sure how the finals worked out.
When you ask if anyone else showed up while you were... out... Cordelia says that aside from a couple of the finalists coming by to get their injuries looked at, you did get a brief visit from Ayane, who "somehow" heard about your collapse, and was worried. Your companion takes a certain glee in describing the other girl's reaction to learning that you fainted after walking into a room full of badass old men without properly bracing yourself. You should be prepared for kunoichi teasing the next time you run into Ayane.
After half an hour of meandering conversation, you're running low on safe topics. It's just as well, then, that the door to the interview room finally clicks open, revealing the impassive face of Sergeant Hajime.
"We're ready."
Trading a glance with Cordelia, you get to your feet and enter the interview room. Aside from the Sergeant and Lu-sensei, you also see Officer Douji, looking a bit more presentable than he did last night.
You're ushered to a chair next to your teacher, while the Sergeant takes one of the seats across from the table.
"Alright, Mister Harris," the older officer says. "Let's talk about yesterday evening."
While you've already decided what you want to say to these officers of the law, how will you comport yourself during this interview?
You feel that your interests in this matter would be best served by making yourself out to be a good-natured, law-abiding young person who wants to do The Right Thing and help the police, who are the Good Guys. And so, taking a breath and trying to project innocent enthusiasm, you start to talk.
Gained Law-Abiding F (Plus)
It takes close to an hour and a half for your interview to finish. In that period, you repeat enough bits and pieces of your chosen cover story to have told the entire thing five times over. Where Sergeant Hajime is patient, methodical, and impassive in his questions and comments, Officer Douji starts out as good-natured as you try to paint yourself, chatting away like your new best friend and accepting your words as gospel truth. It's only later on in the interview that you start to notice the edge in the man's behavior - an inquisitiveness that started out bright and eager, and which is gradually being dulled by disappointment as your statement fails to provide something he was hoping to hear. You can't say for certain what that "something" might be: the obvious guess is the identity of whoever was responsible for blowing down the wall, what method they used to do it, and where said person can be found (ideally with incriminating evidence of their less-than-lawful behavior in hand); but you're not about to ignore the possibility that the young cop had another target in mind.
The details of the fight in the infirmary are far from the only thing the two officers question you about. They naturally ask how you ended up in the infirmary in the first place, which puts a dent in your smile and compels you to admit that you fainted right at the opening match of the finals. You then have to try to explain what made you faint, without lying or going into detail about ki; while you do manage to come up with something that appears to satisfy the cops and your teacher, you're pretty sure that it sounds like you fainted because you were scared of a bunch of old men. The smile that Douji has to work to hide is a good clue. There are also questions about your activities over the course of the day, and indeed, the bulk of the tournament - and you definitely notice a flash of eagerness from Douji when he brings up the bombing and the riot. It's soon quelled by dismay, as you and Lu-sensei assure the officers that Gorn and Karrokk weren't even remotely involved in the assassination attempt turned free-for-all. As for your own involvement in that mess, you admit to defending yourself when "some guy in pajamas and a mask" took a swing at you, helping a friend perform some first aid, and then walking out with her and her family.
Sergeant Hajime questions you about your involvement with Gorn, Karrokk, and Beryl, prior to last night. Again, you keep to the truth, if not the whole of it: you only "met" Gorn during your match, and saw his bouts before that; you likewise saw the older pair fight, a couple of times in Beryl's case; and Beryl noticed you paying attention to her matches, and decided to pay a visit. When asked how and why Beryl would have taken an interest in you, you explain that - while you can't speak for the lady - the two of you have some techniques in common, despite being from different schools; you're also both redheads who tend to stand out from a crowd. Either might have gotten her attention. You're not quite prepared to hint at the accidental encounter with the shadow-giant, but fortunately, the officers' line of inquiry doesn't stay fixed on Beryl that long. They seem to accept that you can't account for why someone who is effectively a stranger to you would do anything.
Lu-sensei doesn't say much for the duration of the interview. It's a testament to the interpersonal skills of the two officers that he doesn't feel the need to, although some credit also has to go to your determination to be as helpful as possible, without breaking your cover story. You provide enough information that the cops simply don't feel the need to dig deeper, at least not yet.
Gained Acting D (Plus)
Gained Guarded E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained King of Men F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Manners E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
"Well, then," Officer Douji says at last. "I think that's all we have for you for now, Mister Harris. Would you send Miss Chase in?"
"Of course, sir," you reply, hopping down. Bowing slightly to both officers and Lu-sensei, you leave the interview room. In the waiting area, you find that, left to her own devices, Cordelia got bored enough to give the magazines a read and hit up a vending machine for a taste-test of some local drink; the can sits on the table to her left.
"Finally," the brunette mutters on seeing you. "My turn, then?"
"They're waiting."
Without a word, she moves past you, the door closing firmly behind her.
"What now?" Briar asks, breaking the silence she's maintained since you left the hotel.
Good question.
In response to Briar's question, you sit yourself down in one of the chairs, close your eyes, and focus on breathing.
This is the first time you've attempted to meditate in public, and at once, you become keenly aware of all the non-visual distractions this part of the police station has to offer. Your ears take in the clack of computer keyboards and the hum of overhead lights and monitors, the squeak and clatter of chair wheels and the tread of human feet, voices raised or lowered in conversation and the ring of phones, and even the Doppler shifting passage of vehicles in the street. Meanwhile, your nose picks up the mingled scents of old coffee, fresh coffee, and burnt coffee, several faint traces of uncertain foods, a slightly burnt, mechanical tang that probably has to do with the air conditioner or central heating, and the ubiquitous scent of multiple human bodies working in an enclosed space for extended periods of time - as well as the numerous methods used to disguise said aura of armpits, most of which are ineffective at best.
Gained Listening E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Scenting F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
It takes some effort, but you're gradually able to shut out these annoying intrusions.
Gained Concentration D (Plus)
Gained Meditation E (Plus)
However, just as you're getting into the Zen zone, you hear someone calling your name insistently. As you come back to full awareness, you recognize it as Cordelia, and when you open your eyes, you find her standing before you, with Lu-sensei a few steps behind, talking to Sergeant Hajime while Officer Douji heads down the hall with a folder tucked under one arm.
"You're done?" you ask, redundantly. "What time is it?" A glance at the clock shows the time to be 11:48 am; you've been trying to meditate for half an hour. "Huh. That was quick." You measure your mana reserves, and find them to be at 26%. Some quick mental math shows that your meditation did help, though it only boosted your recovery by about one-eighth over normal. On the one hand, that's kind of a paltry improvement, but then again, every little bit helps.
"I didn't exactly see a lot of what happened yesterday," Cordelia reminds you, as Lu-sensei and the Sergeant trade polite nods, and then join you.
"If you watch crime dramas," Hajime says with a surprising flash of (admittedly dry) humor, "this would be the part where I ask you all not to leave town for a few days. From what your teacher tells me, though, that's going to be an issue."
"Our plane leaves tomorrow afternoon," Cordelia affirms. "Do we need to reschedule or something?"
"Or something," Lu-sensei says. "Events have progressed rather beyond the authority I'm legally permitted to exercise over you two, so-"
"In English, Sensei?"
"We need to call your parents," he replies succinctly. "It's up to them whether you should extend your stay or go home as planned."
Huh. Cordy doesn't look happy about that. As for your own feelings on the matter...
Your feelings on having to call your parents can best be summed up by the word, "Meh." It's not exactly the most welcome development in this entire incident, but it's hardly the end of the world, either. Plus, you haven't actually talked to your family in what feels like forever; it'll be nice to hear their voices again, even if there is liable to be transoceanic interference and emotional shouting.
With a shrug, you ask if there's a phone you can use - and then pause to inquire about the time difference. Some collective calculation determines that it's about eight at night (the previous night) in Sunnydale, so your folks will both be home, and you won't be waking them or Zelda up. Sergeant Hajime agrees that the police will cover the charges of the call, but does ask that you try to keep it brief, muttering something about the chief's blood pressure.
You make no promises.
While you've never made an international phonecall before, Cordelia has, and after a minute of watching you, the two officers, and Lu-sensei fumble over the unfamiliar extension, she takes the phone away from the lot of you, dials, waits a moment, hits another number, waits a bit longer, and then dials the familiar tones of your home phone number. After a delay of two rings, she puts on her usual charming social air.
"Hello, Mrs. Harris; it's Cordelia. Thank you. No, he's right here, he was just being useless with the phone. Yes. Yes. Really? Good for her. Okay. Okay, then." Smirking, Cordelia holds out the phone. Wondering what she and your mother were talking about, you take the receiver.
"Hi, Mom."
"Alexander Lavelle Harris," comes the voice of maternal doom, "why did it take you most of a week to call home?"
"It's been really busy over here," you defend yourself.
"Too busy to call your family even once to let them know how you were doing?"
"We didn't stay at the hotel very much, and I don't carry nearly enough change to cover a call like this from a public phone," you tell her, skirting around the issue of your family finances. "And between the early wake-up times and the long days... there just never seemed to be time."
Your mother sighs. "Well, we're talking now. So, how has the trip been?"
"Pretty good. I've met a lot of people, seen some of the sights - oh, and you can tell Dad and Zelda I placed first in my age bracket."
"First?" There is a brief pause in which your mother's voice grows slightly faint as you hear her talking to the rest of your family, followed by a little girl's triumphant whooping. "Alex," your mother says then, "that's wonderful."
Zelda says something.
"Your sister wants to know what the belt looks like."
"Tell her it's not big and shiny like the ones they get for wrestling on TV, but it does have a dragon on it."
Your mother does this. Zelda squeals in delight.
"Anyway, Mom," you continue, trying to move the conversation along. "The, uh, other reason I'm calling is that... well..." You take a breath. "I kind of ended up as a material witness in a case of assault and property damage."
"What?"
"And the police would like me to stay in town a while longer."
"What?"
"Is that okay?"
"What?"
"Alex," your dad's voice says then. From the little preceeding click, you figure he must have gone for the phone in the kitchen. "What did you say that has your mother mentally locked up all of a sudden?"
Sighing, you give your father a mundane summary of events similar to that you provided the cops, merely more condensed.
His response is a single, "I see." It's followed by a calm, controlled. "But you're okay now, right?"
"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine."
"That's good." He pauses, and you get the impression that he's thinking. "Alright. I'll need to call Rory, but he can handle the shop without me."
"What?" you join your mother in blurting out.
"It'll take a day or two for me to get to Tokyo," your father continues, as if he didn't hear that outburst. "In the meantime, Alex, you should get in touch with the American consulate or embassy. Maybe both."
You blink.
It takes a moment for you to fully appreciate the implications of what your father is saying, that he is in fact ready to drop everything and fly across the Pacific just because you called and said you were talking to the police. When it does sink in, you have trouble finding the appropriate words to express how awesome your dad is at this moment.
"Dad... are you seriously... not that I don't want you here, but I mean... can we afford..."
"You let me worry about the money, Alex," Tony Harris says firmly. "You just get in touch with the government like I said, keep your nose clean, and I'll see you in a couple of days."
"...yes sir," you finish lamely.
"Good man. And Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"First place?" You can hear the grin in your dad's voice. "Way to kick ass, son."
You manage a brief laugh and a flustered farewell before hanging up.
Gained Filial Piety E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained King of Men F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
"What was that about?" Cordelia asks.
"Um... Dad said I should get in touch with the American embassy or consulate. Is that okay?"
"It would be a good idea," Lu-sensei says.
Sergeant Hajime nods. "As we don't yet know where your attackers are or who else might be involved with them, protective custody is a natural next step, and since you are foreign nationals, your government should be alerted to the threat."
You nod. "Oh, yeah. And apparently my Dad is going to fly over."
The cop nods, unsurprised. Lu-sensei raises an eyebrow, but otherwise appears similarly impassive. Cordelia and Briar are both significantly more expressive in their responses.
"What?"
"That's what I said," you reply honestly.
It takes a couple of minutes, but you manage to get Cordelia to call her home. Unlike you, she calls collect.
"Hello, Marla. It's me. Yes. Yes, I am. Are my parents... I see. I see." Cordy sighs. "When will they... lovely. No phones, I take it? Of course. Alright, get me Edward." There is a long pause. "Hello, Edward. Yes. You as well. Look, I'm standing in a police station in Tokyo - Edward, stop laughing!"
It takes Cordelia a couple of minutes to work things out with Edward - if memory serves, the head of the Chase family staff - who eventually gets over his amusement and agrees to alert the appropriate one of Daddy Chase's on-retainer lawyers. While that is being sorted out, Lu-sensei gets the number and address for the American embassy from the police, and then uses a separate line to call ahead and make an appointment.
"Two o'clock?" you ask.
"The operator said that was the earliest they could fit us in," Lu-sensei replies as he hangs up the phone. "I got the impression that yesterday's explosion has a lot of people on edge."
Sergeant Hajime grunts.
So, since you're largely done with the police at this point, that leaves you with a couple of hours. What do you want to do with them?
Sergeant Hajime's comment about "protective custody" sticks in your mind. You suspect there's a very good chance that, once you've explained your current circumstances to the embassy staff, you'll end up cooling your heels in a room somewhere with either uniformed cops or guys in suits and dark glasses watching the doors until you get shipped home. While theoretically safer than wandering around with just your own abilities, your sensei, and your two friends to cover you, such an arrangement will undoubtedly interfere with your ongoing hunt for reagents. Your father's presence will only up the level of surveillance you'll be under.
As such, you decide that getting another reagent or two now, while you still have the opportunity to move about unrestricted, would be in your best interests. Fortunately, your "tour map" is small enough that you were able to bring it along tucked in a pocket, though as you take out the page and unfold it, you spare a brief sigh of regret for Hylian-made pouches, bags, and quivers. Focusing on the matter at hand, you consider the reagents you still need.
Earth. Fire. Water. Time. And considering how hard it's going to be for you to move around freely for the foreseeable future, you might want to get something to represent Light as well, rather than hoping that you'll be able to disappear for a full hour under the noon sky to perform the ritual.
Your original plan as far as Earth reagents go was to retrieve some sand from the beach where you fought Arrogante. It's still a viable option, but you're a bit worried about how the delay of dealing with the Tokyo police is going to affect the value of that offering. Although you did shed blood, sweat, tears, ki, and mana on that sand, a week of normal tidal action and precipitation will have eroded its mystical worth. That's assuming you get back there within a couple more days, and not another week or two from now; if it takes that long, the sand will be worth about as much mystically as it is materially. So you might want to consider obtaining a different Earth reagent. Soil from a shrine would work fine, as long as it was from an area that hadn't been trod on by the masses, and there are some shrines are built around particular stones, as the Higurashi Shrine was built to honor the Sacred Tree; you could try to get a lesser neighbor or small fragment from one of those.
Water will probably be the next-easiest element to find a reagent for. Although proper "holy water" is mostly a Western thing as far as you know, you could get by with water from a fountain or pond on the grounds of a shrine. Liquid taken from a body of water that a shrine was specifically dedicated to would be better, but your map doesn't mention any such places, and you can't recall reading about them off the top of your head.
A Fire reagent will only be a bit more difficult to come by than one for Water. You just need to find another enshrined tree like the one at Kagome's place, and make off with a twig. Failing that, incense would be a good idea; you can't reasonably expect to run into a dragon or other fire-aspected creature at this point.
As far as Time goes, you were hoping to make a sacrifice of the time and effort you put into seeking out the other reagents, but your impending enforced inactivity is going to lessen the value of that offering significantly. If you had an heirloom of some sort, you could give that up, but as it stands, you may have to give serious thought to swiping an antique.
That leaves Light. If all else fails and you can't get away for a noontime casting of the familiar ritual, you could make do with a light spell, but if you want something more substantial, you're probably going to have to resort to summoning - for that matter, you could get the materials you need for all of the other remaining elements by dealing with creatures from Beyond, as well. That's probably an option best left in reserve, though.
Looking at your map, what sort of shrine do you want to visit first?
You're torn between going for an easy Water reagent at the riverside shrine, or seeking out an Earth reagent at the shrine for the sacred stone. After checking where these sites are located, you decide that you should have enough time to visit them both and still make it to your next meeting, as long as you don't dawdle.
"Oh, god," Cordelia groans, when you broach the subject on the way out of the police station. "More of the stairs from hell?"
"They can't have stuff like that set up at every shrine in the city," you say, less certainly than you care to admit "Right, Lu-sensei?"
"Not all of them, no," he admits. "What exactly are you hoping to acquire at these stops, Alex?"
"It depends on what they have available, but ideally? Water from a sacred pool, some sticks of incense or a twig from a shrine tree, and a small sacred stone."
"And you already have the giant bug's wing, the horsehair, and that paper-and-ink tag Kagome made," Cordelia adds, shaking her head. "You sure you don't want some eye of newt or funky mushrooms to go with all that?"
"Actually, if the mushrooms are the sort that glow in the dark..."
"I was kidding."
"I'm not," you say, as you exit the building.
From the crowding of the street and the sidewalk - almost as bad as it was three hours ago - it appears that you've walked into the start of the lunch hour rush. You briefly discuss with your companions the merits of stopping for a meal until the worst of the crowds have moved on, but Lu-sensei advises that you keep going for now; most of the people around you are either headed to or returning from their dine-and-dash franchise of choice, which means that those places are going to be very busy for the next three-quarters of an hour or so, while more outlying areas - such as the shrines you plan to visit - should have less traffic. Besides, unlike all these members of the working class, you can always eat later.
Taking your teacher's guidance to heart, you move on. It takes a while, and you have to struggle most of the way not to get separated from your companions or turned around, but eventually the number of pedestrians you're fighting for space and direction on the sidewalks goes down to something sane. You're not exactly sure how long it takes you to reach the first shrine, but at a guess, you'd say you just spent half an hour fighting Tokyo foot-traffic.
Gained Crowd Control F (Plus)
Gained Physical Prowess C
The local kami extend a small blessing to you for your perseverance; there is no murderous stairway at this particular shrine. It's built just off the bank of the river, which is really more of a stream with ambitions. The water is clean, though, and while there are some signs of landscaping, the riverbed and the surrounding greenery look reasonably undisturbed by the civilization that surrounds them on almost every side. On the other hand, you don't sense a pervasive aura like the one that you picked up at the Higurashi Shrine. Mindful of your promises about exercising more caution and self-control with your extrasensory powers, you turn to Briar.
"What do you get from this place, Briar?"
The fairy studies the shrine gate, waves her wand a few times, and considers the results.
"Not great," she says at last. "There's some spiritual energy on the grounds, but it's a lot less than what we ran into at Kagome's place. I don't think we can expect to find even a half-trained shrinekeeper here, and they definitely don't have a resident tree spirit. Or another kind of spirit, for that matter."
Trusting in Briar's skills - like you could ever do otherwise - you enter the shrine's grounds and make a beeline for the riverbank. As you approach, you let your extra senses awaken, being careful to keep them focused on the water alone, as opposed to trying to scan the entire shrine. You detect no obvious magical traces in the water, which is a good thing for your purposes, since it means the water is clean and pure in that sense. At the same time, you don't pick up any obvious spiritual energy, although that doesn't mean much given how limited your spiritual sensitivity is compared to your magical awareness. On the purely mundane side of things, the river is even more clear up close than it was at a distance; you could count the rocks scattered about the bed, were you so inclined, and while you don't see any fish, there are plenty of healthy plants and - slap! - insects hanging about. You even take a moment to crouch down, scoop up a palm-full of water, and give it a sniff, finding no obvious chemicals or wastes. Just water.
Gained Mage Sense E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Scenting E
Gained Spiritual Perception F (Plus) (Plus)
"Not bad," you say. "Briar?"
"About the same on my end," the fairy reports, fending off an overly-friendly moth. "It's not fairy fountain water by any means, but it's not a complete loss, either. Shoo, already!"
Considering that you're not likely to find a fairy fountain any time soon, you decide to take what you can. With a minor spell, you summon the Clay Bottle that previously held Gen's Spring Dew potion from your apartment, and fill it with a good dose of the river's water.
You got Riverside Shrine Water!
A second spell seals the Clay Bottle, warding its contents against magical contamination that might impede their usefulness as reagents. That done, a third spell translocates the bottle back to your suite, where it will be safe until you're able to retrieve it later.
"Got what you needed?" Cordelia asks as you stand up.
"One of the things I needed, yeah," you admit, dusting off your knees. You take a look around, wondering what your next move should be, and you catch sight of an older woman dressed like a shrinekeeper coming around the side of the main building, sweeping at the flagstones. She blinks when she notices you, and quickly sets aside her broom and hurries over to meet you.
"Good afternoon," the woman says, bowing. "My apologies for not noticing you earlier. I am Mariko, the keeper of the shrine. Can I help you?"
Can she?
You're in the middle of Tokyo, one of the largest cities in the world, and you've found a river that not only hasn't been incorporated into the local drainage system, but one that seems clean enough to drink from. This is more than a little curious - as are you - and you decide to ask the shrinekeeper about it.
The answer you get is a little disappointing, in that Mariko attributes the excellent condition of the river to no supernatural agency, but rather to the efforts of people. She says that some years earlier, the water was in a rather sorry state, and the neighborhood rallied together to clean it up. At the same time, the city has been putting new laws in place to deal with Tokyo's long-standing pollution problems, and the results are really starting to show.
"Why, I can remember days when the smog was so bad, you had to wear a breathing mask to go outside without coughing like a smoker," the old woman reminisces. "And as for the water... gah! Frightful to look at."
As for the shrine itself, it turns out that it is not dedicated to any particular feature of the terrain, but rather to an event that supposedly occurred on this spot several centuries ago. Apparently, the local lord's beautiful daughter was kidnapped by a malicious spirit, only to be rescued by a traveling monk, who defeated the spirit on this spot. The creature fled rather than face destruction, and the holy man advised the lord to build and maintain a shrine as a ward against its return - which he did. The monk blessed the original construction effort, but departed soon after the shrine was raised to continue wandering the land, bringing guidance and protection to those in need. It is said that the "princess" had fallen in love with her rescuer and waited for him to return to marry her, eventually refusing all other suitors to become the caretaker of the shrine. Whether that is true or not, Mariko can only guess.
All in all, learning the history of the shrine is kind of a waste of your time - a somewhat interesting one, perhaps, but still time that could have been spent on more constructive matters. Like, for example, locating another reagent, or possibly getting lunch; your stomach is starting to complain about not being filled on schedule.
Aware that your free time is running out and that you still have a few reagents to acquire, you ask Mariko if her shrine keeps any incense for sale.
"As a matter of fact, I do," the woman replies. "Come this way, if you're interested."
As you are interested, you follow the shrinekeeper to one of the smaller structures. It looks half storage shed, half retail stand (currently with a wooden screen pulled shut atop it). Mariko unlocks and enters a door on one side of the little building, and you hear her digging around inside for a minute before she slides the screen open, revealing half a dozen long, slender bundles lying on the counter.
"Here we are," Mariko says. "Examples of all the brands that I have in stock."
She proceeds to give you a brief sales pitch on the qualities of each type, as well as their prices. You only half pay attention, instead giving each bundle the once-over with your senses, the results of which you then compare to Briar's assessment.
At the far left is a plain red bundle. You sense nothing from it, and Briar shakes her head after sweeping her wand over it twice. That brand's main saving grace is its price, which works out to $20.
Next is a dark blue bundle. Again, you sense nothing special, but Briar seems to pick up something, as she's not as dismissive of it as the first sample. This type of incense is priced at $25.
The third sample is wrapped up in gold paper. You actually register a faint spiritual energy within it, and Briar appears to approve wholeheartedly. The problem here is the price, which is $50 - more than you have remaining. You'd have to take a loan from Cordelia or Lu-sensei to afford it.
The next two brands, while wrapped in different shades - one green, the other red with gold flecks - are both priced at $30. The green one has a slight hint of spiritual potency, less than the gold-wrapped brand but still present; however, it also bears the aura of magic, suggesting it was either produced using sorcerous means or is enspelled itself. As for the other bundle, it bears no hint of magical contamination, and while you can't pick up any hint of its spiritual worth, Briar gives it a tentative passing vote.
Finally, there's a batch of incense sticks packaged in aquamarine. Once again, it appears completely mundane to your rudimentary spiritual senses, but Briar likes it better than any of the other brands except the one wrapped in gold. Not surprisingly, it's also relatively expensive, and will wipe out all of your remaining $40 of petty cash.
Gained Spiritual Perception F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Mariko finishes her sales pitch at about the same time that you and Briar complete your mystical analysis.
"So, lad, which catches your interest?"
The shiny gold packaging is very tempting, but that ten-dollar-difference between it and the good-quality, affordable aquamarine brand is a problem. You'd like to avoid borrowing money to pay for this if you can, as much out of personal pride as concern for how such an act would affect the reagent's mystical worth in your planned ritual. And that latter concern makes you stop and re-think the approach. The collection of spell components is supposed to be something of a quest, right? You're supposed to invest time and effort and personal struggle into the getting of the goods, overcoming obstacles and opposition. Simply buying something feels like a bit of a cop-out, but if you were to challenge the shrinekeeper, defeat her in a contest of commerce...
You decide to give haggling a go.
"One of these two, I think," you say as an opener, pointing to the gold- and aquamarine-wrapped bundles of incense. "Although..."
"Yes?" Mariko inquires.
Being careful to be as polite as possible, you explain that you're buying the incense as part of a gift for an important person, an older woman who has been both friend and teacher to you for a number of years. Said elder is a strong believer in traditional ways, and would recognize and appreciate the superior quality gift; you in turn would like to repay the debt you owe your teacher with the finest materials available, but you are just a bit short on cash.
You can feel Cordelia and Lu-sensei staring at you as you speak, and Briar falls over giggling in mid-air before you're halfway through.
Mariko's reaction to all of this is mixed. She seems rather put out that you're trying to talk her into lowering her prices at all, but on the other hand, there is some grudging approval that you're trying to do this for the sake of a respected teacher. In end, she agrees to lower the asking prices by 10%, but no more.
Gained Haggling F (Plus) (Plus)
What do you do?
Aqua or gold. Gold or aqua. Save four bucks, or owe someone five. Which will it be?
In the end, you decide that since you're doing this for one friend, it's worth going into debt with another. As you dig into your pocket for all the bills and change you have remaining, you turn to Cordy.
"Spot me a five? For Briar?"
Cordelia glances at the still-giggling fairy, sighs, and gets out her billfold. "Fine."
You got the Gold Incense!
Mariko's slightly-sour mood improves considerably once you've handed over the cash. "I hope your friend appreciates her present, young sir."
"I'm sure she'll find it amusing, ma'am," you say, tucking the bundle of incense into your jacket's inner pocket, where the little sticks hopefully won't get snapped.
"Safe bet," Briar snickers, as she takes her customary place on your shoulder.
Having done all the business you can here, you make your thanks and farewells to Mariko and leave. You check the area, but fail to spot any convenient clocks. Your internal sense of time suggests it's about ten to one, maybe a bit later.
While you do want to visit that shrine with the sacred stone, you find that the protests of your stomach cannot be denied. You're a big guy, you're still growing, and you're just flat-out not used to missing meals. In short, you need food.
Not wanting to have to pay back Cordelia or Lu-sensei more than you already owe if it can be reasonably avoided, you broach the subject of going back to the hotel for lunch. They have no objections to this change of plans.
The walk back to the hotel goes a bit more smoothly than your departure from the police station; as predicted, the lunch hour crowds have thinned out significantly, and while there are still plenty of pedestrians moving about, you don't feel nearly as oppressed by their presence. When you finally return to the hotel, the clock in the lobby shows it to be quarter after one.
"I'd say we have half an hour before we need to leave," Lu-sensei announces, as you make your way to the elevators. "After we've ordered lunch, I'll call the taxi company again."
Cordelia volunteers to handle ordering room service. As she heads for the phone, she asks if there's anything special you'd like her to request. Considering that this may well be the last time you eat here, you are tempted to make it memorable.
While Cordy has the phone, you return to your room to drop off your latest purchase. While there, you take a moment to check up on the bottle of water, just to make sure that the protective wards prevented it from being contaminated by its return teleportation. All seems well there, and since you've gotten started, you decide to go ahead and inspect the rest of your ritual reagents and other purchases. It takes but a moment, and everything looks good.
The scroll and book you bought from Gen's shop catch your eye, as you recall the long waiting period at the police station. You could bring one of them along to read while you're at the embassy, just in case you end up having to kill time again.
Do you want to bring one, and if so, which?
It makes more sense in your mind to bring along a book to occupy yourself during any boring times that lie ahead. Even if the title and subject matter get you a few odd looks from nosy passers-by, a scroll would get a lot more, especially one that contained pointers on actual magic. You don't know if there's such a thing as a Federal Bureau of Incantations, but you'd prefer not to chance drawing the attention of such a body - no more than you already have, anyway.
With Tobin's tucked under your arm, you return to the front room, where Lu-sensei has replaced Cordelia on the phone. It only takes him another minute or so to finish arranging your second cab of the day, and it's another six or seven minutes before your late lunch arrives. Since you didn't ask for anything in particular and your group is a bit pressed for time, Cordelia kept the order simple - salad, rice, chicken, and drinks, with a small collection of dressings and dipping sauces. You and your companions sit down at the table and eat quickly, chatting lightly over the meal.
You steer the conversation in the direction of the finals, asking Lu-sensei what you missed. His responses include a number of names that you don't recognize, but which apparently belong to fairly important people in the martial arts community. There were five rounds, all told, and your teacher got through the first two handily. He won the third round as well, but his opponent that time got in a good hit to his leg - not a disabling strike, but solid enough to slow Lu-sensei in the following round, where he ended up burning a lot more energy and taking several more hits than he would have if he'd had his full mobility. Despite winning the semifinal bout as well, your master was simply not in any condition to take on another skilled opponent, not unless the other guy was approximately as skilled and worn out. A brief exchange of blows in the final round proved that, skillwise, the two finalists were on a fairly even plane, but Lu-sensei was clearly the more tired of the pair; rather than play it out to the finish they and most of the crowd of masters could see was inevitable, he bowed out.
"Even so," your master says, "a second place finish is none too shabby. This will actually be my third time placing that well."
"What were the other two times?" you ask.
"Four years ago, I faced Furinji Hayato in the finals." Lu-sensei smiles. "It was a glorious contest, but in the end, Hayato had the advantages of size, relative youth, and an adorable granddaughter cheering for him. I could have dealt with the other two factors, but I simply could not bear the idea of making a little girl cry. And forty-two years before that," he continues, "I faced my own master for the title. Needless to say, he thumped me good."
"Have you ever won first place, Sensei?" Cordelia inquires.
"Twice," he replies. "After I lost to my master, he said that the student of his that won the next world tournament would become the head of the school. At the time, I and my fellow disciples took it to mean that we would have to overcome each other and then our master, and he might well have intended it as such, but he'd grown quite frail over the intervening four years. Could still kick any of our behinds in single spars, but fighting through a whole tournament? No, he was not that reckless. Instead, he arranged things with the tournament masters so that the four of us who did enter would inevitably have to face each other, proving our skill in our school. I was the one who happened to emerge triumphant. To be honest, winning the World Tournament was almost incidental to that."
"And the other time?"
"Twelve years ago," Lu-sensei says, pausing to clean the last of the rice from his bowl. "That time, my opponent was the Grandmaster of a school of demon-ninja. Very strong, very skilled, and with an even worse attitude towards defeat than Mohra demons." He gives you a meaningful look over the remains of your meal.
"Worse?" you ask. "What's worse than trying to kill the guy who beat you fair and square?"
"For starters, sending all of your flunkies out to kill the guy who beat you fair and square."
"...oh."
"Indeed." Lu-sensei shakes his head. "The following year was a very unpleasant one."
There's little more conversation after that, and soon enough, it's quarter to two. Setting aside the dishes for room service and hastily wiping your face, you fetch your book, make sure you have your visa in your pocket, slip your shoes back on, and follow Lu-sensei back down to the lobby and out the front door. Once again, a taxi is there to meet you, and the driver whisks you off to the American embassy. Although the traffic is better than it was this morning, the trip still proves fairly long; it's only three minutes to the hour when the cab stops and you get out.
The embassy turns out to be an office building about ten stories tall, with the sort of concrete and glass facing that can be found in most modern cities the world over. The gate stands out quite a bit more, and then of course, there is the flag just beyond it. You don't spot any obvious military guards, but there are a number of Japanese policemen about - the building next to the gate appears to be a police station. It's hard to say whether that's a sign of trust and cooperation between nations, or the opposite.
After presenting your ID to the guard on duty at the gate - he has a certain bearing which makes you think he's military, though he isn't visibly armed - your group is ushered onto the grounds and into the main building, where you're directed to the fifth floor. Here, you're met by an attache, who welcomes you and leads you to a reasonably well-appointed office, where he introduces you to a well-dressed man named James West. He has a fancy-sounding title, but dismisses it.
"It's basically a fancy way of saying 'lawyer,'" Mister West explains, as you all take seats. "Which, from my understanding, is one of the things you're in need of."
"That sounds about right," Lu-sensei agrees, before explaining your situation.
What do you want to do while the adults talk?
The contents of the office collectively make for a tempting distraction, and the book currently resting on your lap is another, but you force yourself to pay attention to what the adults are saying and doing. It does directly involve you and your well-being, after all, and a little bit of boredom now could do much to prevent more serious and permanent difficulties in the future.
Gained Concentration D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Tactics E
After Lu-sensei finishes summing up the current situation and how it came to be, Mister West begins asking questions about specific points. His first inquiry is about how serious Lu-sensei feels the threat of another attack is - your teacher's response is that he is uncertain, but he would prefer not to take chances with the lives of a couple of children when dealing with sword-swinging nutcases who can take out walls. Mister West agrees that's quite a sensible response, and asks, formally, if Lu-sensei is requesting protective custody for your group.
Just as formally, Lu-sensei replies that he is.
The self-described lawyer calls in his aide and tells him to arrange a meeting with the chief of security, as soon as is convenient. Once the younger man is off, Mister West resumes his questions, asking how the police conducted themselves during their initial response yesterday and then during today's interviews. Having been present for all three sessions, Lu-sensei answers promptly, giving a fair accounting of Sergeant Hajime and Officer Douji. After that, West inquires about your original travel plans, and Lu-sensei says that you were supposed to leave tomorrow, taking a day off after the tournament to do some sightseeing, but with this personal attack on top of the earlier, more general attack at the tournament itself, he was seriously considering hopping the next plane back to the States. It's at this point that Mister West puts two and two together and realizes that you were attending THAT martial arts tournament - the one that got bombed - and he quickly calls his aide back in and tells him to move up that meeting with the chief to "immediately, if not sooner." He also says to call the embassy's medical staff, to find out which hospitals handled the response to the riot at the arena and the attack at your hotel, and to get their reports on your treatments.
Things get busy after that, and you sort of lose track of what's being said, as men and women in suits start to file in and out of Mister West's office at a fast pace. Before too long, your group is moved out of the office and into a more comfortably-appointed waiting room, which has a couple of distinctly guard-like men standing outside the doors. There's a nice painting on one wall, several shelves' worth of books in front of another, three chairs around a table, two long, well-upholstered benches, and a sturdy-looking window in the wall opposite the door.
"So," Cordelia says, after you've been left to your own devices by the busy embassy staff. "Evidently Mister West thinks that our being targeted by sword-swinging killers is somehow less important than our having been random bystanders to a bombing. Why is that?"
"I can think of a few explanations," Lu-sensei replies. "One is that, as a person raised and residing in an era dominated by guns and bombs and missiles, Mister West cannot conceive of anyone seriously using a 'primitive' weapon like a sword. Another possibility is that he did take the swords seriously, but felt confident in the ability of the embassy's security to protect us from further such threats - but not so much against a bombing. It may also be that we are the first American citizens to have contacted our government who can provide an eyewitness account about the incident at the arena." He shrugs. "Or it could be something else. We'll just have to wait and see."
Stuck in a room with Cordy, Briar, and Lu-sensei for an indeterminate period of time. What do you do?