Xander Quest Chapter 277: This All Feels Fairy Familiar 3, a private fanfic

"Some of the matters taking up my time since we talked about this have been handled," you point out.

"And new ones put in their place," Briar counters.

"Yes, but a bunch of those are going to be resolved in another month or so - and it's not like I'm saying I'm going to go down there and start teaching my mom how to use magic right this minute, Briar. I just feel like I should let her know that she has the potential to learn, so she can decide what to do about it. Even if she chooses not to anything, I owe her the opportunity to make that choice, don't I? Especially in Sunnydale."

"...fair enough."

Your mother comes downstairs a few minutes later, and makes a shushing gesture in your direction. You obligingly stay quiet for another five minutes or so, until it's clear that Zelda is, if not truly asleep, then at least being obedient about staying in bed.

Reassured, you step into the kitchen to talk to your mother about magic, and the fact that she could learn how to use it.

Her reaction is a quiet frown.

"I went to school with a group of girls who fancied themselves a coven," you mother says, in a bit of a non-sequitor. "Magic was 'in' at the time, at least around here, and they were always on the lookout for new members. They asked me to join them once, but I thought they were just being silly - except for Diana, who was just plain nasty - and I turned them down."

Your mom knew a possible group of practitioners in high school?

"What happened to this 'coven'?" you ask, curious.

"High school happened," your mother replies wryly. "There were the usual arguments about who was hanging out with the wrong crowd, who'd been 'borrowing' someone's favorite blouse without asking, who stole whose crush - and of course, there were the other kids making fun of them for 'still believing in magic.' Most of the group had stopped associating with each other by junior year."

"Only most of them?"

"Three or four kept meeting for a while after that, but that was more because Diana was a bully and the others were her groupies. Then Diana's parents caught her 'worshipping the Devil' and shipped her off to Catholic reform school. That was the last I heard of her."

Huh.

"Did anything weird ever happen around those girls?"

Your mother frowns, thinking back. "One ran away from home, a few more got in trouble with the police a few times - nothing serious, just the usual teenage misbehavior - and Jessie Patterson was expelled for cheating. Aside from that, nothing comes to mind." She turns a touch defensive as she adds, "It WAS almost twenty years ago, Alex."

Fair enough. YOU can remember things from centuries ago, but, well, you're weird that way.

Getting back to the topic at hand...

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter now whether they were actual witches or not. I will say that if they were, it's a good thing you didn't join them."

"Oh?"

"The form of magic I learned from Briar works differently from most of the other ones I've run into," you explain. "Spells I cast only use my own power, but spells that most other practitioners cast call on outside forces. Spirits and stuff. Some of those... aren't safe. Especially in Sunnydale."

A lifelong resident of the 'Dale, your mother nods gravely. "But you're okay?"

"I'm fine," you tell your mother. Honesty compels you to add, "At least, as fine as anyone else in Sunnydale."

Your mother frowns. "You're not just referring to the vampires and demons, are you, Alex?"

Good insight.

"You remember what happened with Rory's animal collection," you state.

"Oh, yes."

"Well, the same force that caused that also affects living things. Not as significantly - we're alive, we have souls, and that makes us a lot more resistant than a dead body - and nowhere near as fast, but it's still a problem. Especially for magic-users who call on outside forces. Until you have a certain level of skill in that style, it's hard to avoid pulling in the bad energy along with the energy you actually WANT to use."

"And what does that do to a person?" your mother asks.

"I haven't seen it happen, myself," you admit. "It takes longer than I've been aware of the problem for the effects to become obvious, at least in ordinary people. But everything I know about magic, and the way everyone I've talked to on the supernatural side reacts when they hear where I live, tells me it would be bad. Good people wearing down, unremarkable people going bad, and bad people getting worse."

"And then there's the demons," Briar notes.

"And then there's the demons," you add, for your mother's sake.

Your mother's expression is troubled - and thoughtful.

You consider mentioning that there are ways to defend against the Hellmouth's corruption, or even to purify it - but your mother already knows that. You DID let both your parents know that you could drive the demons out of Uncle Rory's stuffed animal collection, after all, and your mother's well aware that you already went and did it. Whether or not Dad told her about what he witnessed that day.

The idea of mentioning Ambrose's impending visit and offer to improve your household defenses also occurs to you - and after a brief hesitation, you go with it.

"Didn't you just say it isn't safe for most people to use magic in Sunnydale?" your mother points out.

"Ambrose isn't most people. He's... well, he's old, annoying, he acts like he's MY age sometimes, and he seems to LIVE to tick people off. But I've seen him use magic several times now, and he's really, REALLY good at it. More than good enough to account for and overcome the problem of casting in Sunnydale."

In the short-term, anyway. You're not so certain about Ambrose's long-term prospects on the Hellmouth, but such would require him to actually LIVE here. And you can't really see that happening. With the amount of fuss people in the know have raised about Sunnydale, the only sort of person you can see moving here while AWARE of all the dangers are the overconfident, the evil, and the just plain dumb.

Much as he irritates you - you, and probably half the Moonlit World - just by breathing, you can't say Ambrose falls into any of those categories.

Before either you or your mother can say more, there is a dull thump from upstairs. Moblin, who's been curled up at your feet during this conversation, raises his head and his ears.

"Zelda's up," Briar notes.

"I think we'll have to save this discussion for another time, Alex," your mother says.

Considering that you picked this time to talk because you didn't want Zelda to overhear you, you quite agree.

While your mother heads upstairs, to see if she can coax her youngest back into slumber or not, you take Moblin out for his afternoon walk.

Time passes.

Seven pages, containing enough information that if they were talking about people, you could use them to target Spells of Scrying on the subjects described within.

Ten locations, scattered about Wales and Britain, that you'd much prefer to get a look at - even if at a magical remove - before showing up in person for a more detailed investigation.

And one spell, which doesn't quite suit your needs. As noted, the Spell of Scrying - which really ought to be called the RITUAL of Scrying, considering how long it takes - is designed to only target creatures, not areas. Fixing that is no hardship; the lesser Spell of Clairvoyance has all the calculations you need, and your grasp of Divination magic in general is more than enough to provide the extra mana required to fuel those grafted-on commands.

The stumbling block is the material requirement. Scrying requires a mirror of considerable craftsmanship to serve as a focus, and the standards it sets for that bit of glasswork are currently too high for you to match by magical means. You could borrow Amy's mirror, as you've done in the past, but it's one thing to perform a ritual at a friend's house when you aren't fully aware of the risk of discovery, and quite another to do so when you ARE aware.

Some low-level mystical poking suggests that the security mirror you're using as the focus for your Mirror Hideaway spell is of sufficient quality to stand in as the expensive focus the Scrying spell demands, but you'd have to shrink it and haul it out of town for that to be safe. And given everything that's happened recently, not only are you a little wary of casting magic "in the open" for hours on end, but you can't see your parents being happy with it, either.

Then you get an idea.

After lunch on Tuesday, you excuse yourself, hustle downstairs, and slip into your Mirror Hideaway, where you begin to cast your modified Ritual of Scrying. In your mind's eye, you go over the description of the first location on Ambrose's list, the one most likely to be useful, and also to be already spoken for.

For the material focus the spell demands, you offer the dimensional portal you just stepped through.

After all, it's still a mirror, right?

As the echo of the last word of the ritual hangs in the air, you mental cross your fingers.

Then the walls around you- no, you correct yourself, looking around, every surface in this small extra-dimensional chamber begins to glow.

Looking into one of the crystalline surfaces, you see an image of a place you've never been. A forest glade, shrouded in darkness and illuminated only faintly by the moon and stars, with a single, moss-covered column of stone standing across from a small pool and an ancient tree.

You won't say that it looks EXACTLY like the place detailed in Ambrose's papers, because the night's shadows make everything seem larger and stranger than they truly are, and it's too dark for you to examine the characters that should be inscribed on that solitary standing stone, or to study the ground for a low ring of stone and ash where many fires have been lit, burned, and extinguished.

"You got it?" Briar exclaims. "On the first try?"

"You could sound more supportive, you know."

"Sorry, I'm just surprised. I mean, you're scrying on a place you've never been - a PLACE, not a PERSON - using a spell you JUST threw together, and you're doing it from another dimension besides. And THEN there's the fact that this is supposed to be the most potent of the ritual sites Ambrose gave us. Shouldn't somebody have grabbed the place already? Or warded it against this kind of observation?"

You frown. When Briar puts it like that, it does sound a little surprising, doesn't it? Even... suspicious.

You cast a Spell to Detect Magic, channeling it through the essence of the Scrying spell. A sense of powerful elemental energies comes back to you - Air, Water, Earth, Wood, and a fainter but abiding sense of Fire - as does an aura of Abjuration. None of these carry the smooth, polished sense of order and structure you'd expect from a spell, suggesting that they're all natural occurences, expressions of the power that makes this location such a good one for ritual magic.

Then again, something could be tricking you.

You need more information - and more than that, you need ACCURATE information. The fastest way to do that is to visit the site yourself and give it a thorough look over with your assorted sensory abilities.

"Briar, how do you feel about an unplanned trip to Wales?"

"Conflicted," the fairy admits. "On the one hand, it's really tempting to go any investigate this place. On the other, the idea that you'd find a perfect unclaimed ritual site on your first try is almost too good to be true. Notes from Ambrose or no."

You nod, sharing your friend's concerns that what you've seen of this place in your Scrying spell, and what Ambrose wrote down for you, are but the merest surface layer of what you'll actually find, if you go there. Still, as long as you're aware of the potential risks and take precautions...

You study the image a moment longer, fixing it in your mind. Then you dismiss the Scrying spell, leave your Mirror Hideaway, and head upstairs. It's the work of but a few minutes to tell your mother you're going out for a bit.

"Could you take Moblin with you, Alex?" your mother asks.

At the sound of his name, the dog in question looks up from where he was lying on the living room carpet, ears perked up and expression curious.

Um.

"Sure thing, Mom." You turn to your dog. "Come on, boy. Let's go for a walk."

Moblin tilts his head to one side, as if thinking it over, then pulls himself to his feet and trots towards you.

"Back in a bit," you say, as the two of you - plus Briar - head out.

Not wanting to use up too much time that you could otherwise spend on a magical road trip, you restrict today's walk to a once-around-the-block kind of thing. You could cover this distance in a very short time indeed, if you were to bring your ki training or magic into play - never mind both of them - but Moblin can't run nearly that fast, and moreover, isn't inclined to. Honestly, your dog is just a bit lazy when he can get away with it, and he seems to enjoy that.

Some twenty minutes after you left the house, you return.

"In you go, boy," you say, holding the door open.

This time, Moblin doesn't hesitate to follow your instructions - if only because, having had his daily walk, it's now time for his daily post-walk lie-down.

"I'm heading back out, Mom," you call.

"Don't forget that you have a class with Mr. Tze this afternoon, Alex!" comes the response.

"I won't!"

Letting the door swing shut, you begin making your way out of Sunnydale proper and to...

For reasons of secrecy and not wanting to run into an oncoming car, you stick with straightforward ki-ehanced speed while passing through town. And a little free-running and aura-augmented balance, just for the practice.

Gained Ki Enhancement C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Step E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Parkour F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Once you're clear of the streets and afternoon traffic, though, you go to full Body Flicker speed.

All in all, it takes you less time to reach your destination than it did to walk your dog.

You've used that out-of-the-way corner of the desert as a spellcasting site several times now, each time relying upon its distance from Sunnydale proper and its relative anonymity to prevent anyone or anything from tracking your magical signature. It's worked out pretty well so far, but you haven't forgotten about the military-grade ghoul that staked out your family's cabin after your mass purification ritual went unexpectedly LOUD.

Someone in town is looking for you. Anonymity alone may no longer be enough of a defense.

So it is that, instead of dashing out into the desert once again, you head south and west, into the hills that line the coast. This region offers plenty of spots that share the same useful qualities as your previously-favored spellcasting ground, with a couple additional bonuses: one, you've never cast spells here; two, there are caves in the area that could be used to obscure your magical signature; and three, anybody who came looking for you out here would have to turn over a LOT of stones in the process, both proverbially and literally.

The proximity of the ocean isn't really a factor, except that it keeps the air damp and a bit cooler than usual.

There is a drawback to coming this way; the terrain is so uneven that you don't feel remotely confident in your ability to stay on your feet at Body Flicker speeds. One stumble at those velocities, and you'd be dealing with the equivalent of road rash - self-inflicted, at that. Since you're in no hurry to break bones and tear off swathes of your own skin, you slow down and try to improve on your footwork. If you're better at keeping your balance, at reading and using the terrain, the odds of accidental spills at any speed will go down.

Gained Agility D (Plus)
Gained Endurance C (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Parkour E

As you make your way into the hills, you get the feeling that there is something else out here. It's not quite that tingle on the back of your neck that tells you you're being watched; it's more the realization that you are not alone.

You don't see or hear anything that could be the cause of this feeling, and your ki sense also fails to pick up anything. Likewise for your mage sense. As for corruption...?

Bingo. There is a source of demonic power somewhere off to your left. It feels faint, weaker than the aura of that hellhound you cowed at the cabin, but whether that's because the demon in question is weak or just a fair distance away, you can't tell.

What do you do?

For a moment, you're torn between two courses of action.

Part of you wants to find a cave, an outcropping, or just a big pile of rocks to use as cover, spend just enough time in said cover to make sure you're not being observed - much less followed - by whatever's out there, and then make for Wales aboard the astral express.

Another part says that you should stay mobile, stay quiet, and track down the source of the demonic aura you're sensing, before dealing with it as circumstances require.

Both options have merit.

Both carry risk.

Then your well-honed sense of caution kicks in, reminding you that even if the Greater Spell of Teleportation is nigh-instantaneous, it's still a seventh-level spell: not only is it too powerful for your current skills to conceal, but casting it would leave your magical signature clinging to the spot where you cast it for hours.

Now, there's a chance that whatever is out there can't sense magic or wouldn't go carrying stories. Magic-users capable of seventh-circle spellcasting are pretty formidable even when they don't specialize in combat, and most creatures with any kind of idea about what magic can really DO are just as happy not to meddle in the affairs of such individuals.

But you can't really afford to take that chance.

After all, it's not just your safety that's at risk.

Gesturing wordlessly to Briar for quiet, you point off in the direction you sense corruption and make a "scary" face. Then you make a "walking" sign, point to your eyes, and point towards the unknown demon again.

Briar bobs in the air, acknowledging your intention without so much as a put-upon sigh.

Ally cautioned, you begin moving forward at a steady pace, doing your best to stay low and quiet. As you move, the source of the corruption does so as well - or rather, it continues moving as it already had been, a bit faster than your pace, and headed somewhere... hmmm... feels like it's going almost directly west, towards the ocean.

You keep moving for several minutes, noting as you close in that the aura of demonic power is getting stronger - and it's not just corruption you're sensing, now, but a mortal life-force as well. It's strong, but diffuse, energy bleeding into the air in a loose cloud that quickly dissipates into the environment and becomes invisible even to your ki sight. You don't sense any magic at all, at least, not at this range.

Whatever it is, it's definitely more potent than that hellhound, possibly as much as the Mohra demons you saw at the tournament.

Then the sound of gravel and undergrowth crunching under a heavy stride reaches your ears, and you stop, peering cautiously past one of the small clusters of trees that dot the terrain. You catch a glimpse of the top of an unkempt but very human-looking head of hair on the far side of the hill after the next.

The sight gives you pause, because after accounting for how distance makes things look smaller, that dirty, wild hairdo must be ten feet off the ground. There's also a large hunk of knot-covered wood taking up space in the air next to it.

The aura of corruption and ki is stronger now, but there's still no hint of magic.

Suppressing your aura, you quickly cast a Spell of Invisibility. Once it's taken effect - and the oversized creature up ahead has failed to react to it in any way you can determine - you leave cover and head for the top of the tallest nearby hill.

You want to get a good look at this thing.

Not twenty seconds later, you've reached your destination, and your target has emerged from behind the hill that was concealing most of its form.

At first glance, you could almost think you're looking at a tall, muscular male human - kind of like a football player grown to twice his normal adult size. A filthy nest of tangled black hair frames a face that looks like it started out with Neanderthal-grade brows and jaw, then got busted up a lot. His main garment is a crude brown kilt of animal hides, patches of uncured fur rotting away here and there, while what looks like enough leather to account for two entire cows has been strapped over those enormous feet with simple thongs. A thick rope serves as a belt, its questionable support anchoring a sack big enough to hold any three people you'd care to name. To your complete lack of surprise, the misshapen lump of wood you glimpsed earlier proves to be the business end of a massive club, six or seven feet long and looking like its owner just ripped a branch from its parent tree and tore off all the greenery and little twiggy bits.

Rather bizarrely, the otherwise primitively-clad man is also wearing a sleeveless muscle shirt - so heavily stained it's turned completely brown - and a sports cap proclaiming alleigiance to the New York Giants. You have no idea where such items could have been found in sizes to fit such a customer. At least the tarnished metal chains wrapped about his beefy neck and wrists have the decency to be explainable.

If the hat weren't enough of a clue, you're pretty sure that this is a giant, of the classical "Fee, fi, fo, fum" variety. Mostly, anyway. It's obvious to your senses that the demonic aura radiating from the brute isn't just due to the kind of contamination that comes from living on the Hellmouth; it's inherent to the giant as an individual. Outwardly, there don't seem to be any obvious tells of the giant's less-than-pure lineage, except in the texture of his deep brown skin - which is somewhere between "leathery" and "scaley" to your eyes - a certain pointedness of tooth and fingernail, and a reddish glow in otherwise black, squinty eyes.

Gained Cryptozoology D (Plus) (Plus)

Even though it's now clear of the interference of the hill, your read on the giant hasn't really changed. His aura remains that of a strong, tainted life-force, with no traces of magic or other supernatural forces at work, or even at rest on his person.

The giant's course towards the coast remains unchanged, as does his pace. You can see why he isn't bothering to hurry; even at what looks like a casual walk, those long legs eat up the distance.

You focus your senses on the giant's huge satchel, probing the thick, crudely stitched-together material - which suggests a couple more cows died to make the thing - and trying to get an idea of what's inside. If it's just random stuff, fine. If it's food... well, potentially fine, unless this giant really IS one of the sort that grinds human bones to make his bread, among other unpleasantnesses.

No traces of ki escape the sack, except for the faint bleed-over of its owner's aura. The pale leather isn't nearly thick enough to interfere with your ki sense, so you can at least say with confidence that whatever's in there isn't alive, or at least hasn't been for some time now.

It takes you a minute - and a bit of complementary Necromancy - to throw together a Spell of Divination that will determine whether or not whatever the giant's hauling around used to be a sapient being. It's nothing that's beyond your skills, though it does test them a bit, and the results come back negative. There IS something organic in that bag, but it was an animal. Or perhaps several animals. Something ruminant either way, if you're reading this aura correctly, so not really a "person," and thus not something you need to take the giant to task for treating as a snack.

Unless he stole it, but proving that would frankly be more trouble than it's worth. Off the top of your head, you can't think of anybody in town who raises goats or sheep.

In short, demonic lineage or no, what you have here appears to be a giant just out for a walk, minding his own business and not doing anybody any real harm. You momentarily consider casting a Spell to Detect Alignment, but dismiss that. By dint of his heritage, the giant would ping as "evil" regardless of his actual motivations, and there's a two-in-three chance that he wouldn't be that bad.

Feeling rather annoyed by the time you've blown investigating this matter, you turn and sneak back down the hill, leaving the giant to his business while you seek out a secure spot to teleport away.

Gained King of Monsters D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Law-Abiding F (Plus) (Plus)

It takes you entirely too long to find said cave, your Spell of Invisibility lapsing before you make the find-

-and when you do, you have to say that you don't like the look of it.

"I don't like the look of it, Briar," you muse, while looking down at the mouth of a surprisingly deep, dark cave from atop the hill opposite it.

"It does smell of demon, doesn't it?" she agrees, before sniffing. "Urgh. Among other nasty stuff."

Invisibility is very comforting, when you're roaming around unfamiliar terrain that's haunted by demons and at least one giant.

As such, you go ahead and renew the fading spell.

Your sense of frustration over the time that was basically wasted sneaking up on the giant grows as you regard the mouth of the demon-tainted cave. You can just imagine what will happen if you go poking around in there. Either you'll find nothing, and have spent even MORE of your limited time on a pointless errand, or you'll encounter a demon, have to fight for your life, and then be in less-than-idea shape for making a trip to Wales - to say nothing of the trouble you could get into if you show up at Lu-sensei's drained of ki and reeking of death and corruption.

It... irks you. Enough for you to say, screw this.

"Screw this," you mutter.

Gained Rage F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

While you don't quite turn your back on the cave - that would just be foolish, and you're not nearly THAT angry, yet - you also don't stick around. Invisible, as close to silent as you can manage, and with your aura restrained, you slip away from the immediate vicinity of the cave. Back on the far side of the hill, and past another mound of earth, you duck into a small patch of trees and begin your casting.

To reach Wales from California, you have to cast the Greater Spell of Teleportation, and that in turn requires an extended ritual, pushing you to the edges of your magical talent. It's because of this delay that you opted to put some distance between yourself and anything that might have been lurking inside that foul cave. There's no hiding a spell of this magnitude - not with your current control over your mana, and possibly not ever - but the sheer volume of earth and soil making up the hills that now lie between you will make it very difficult indeed for even a magic-sensitive demon to notice what you're doing.

You would say it'd be impossible, but you know better than to give the universe an opening like that.

After seven solid minutes of muted chanting, you envision the night-shadowed grove you saw in the mirror realm, and trigger your spell.

-flying/falling/sinking through a strange space/medium/awareness filled with familiar shapes/alien geometries and faint/loud chorus/discordance and a near/distant green energy/presence-

In less time than a heart needs to beat, you've gone from a sunny Southern California afternoon to the cool darkness of a Welsh evening. This has the rather annoying consequence of leaving you night-blind, at least until your eyes adjust to the sun's sudden absence. That will take a while, and after the time you've already blown on this little venture, you're reluctant to sit around twiddling your thumbs until you can see again.

Fortunately, your temporary "blindness" only covers mundane vision. Your other senses are picking up life, magic, and spiritual power in abundance, and not so much as a hint of corruption. It's... nice. Very, very nice, in fact. You have no trouble understanding why Ambrose recommended this site so highly.

"Ohhh yeah," Briar sighs. "I LIKE this place, Alex. Can we keep it?"

"Let's hold off on that until we know if anybody already owns the place, okay?"

"If they do? Beat 'em up and take it," Briar says bluntly. "It'd be totally worth it."

What do you do?

Releasing a short, sharp breath, you will your simmering temper to cool off. While you're doing that, you stay put, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the nocturnal conditions.

It normally takes several minutes for your eyes to adjust to a switch from bright light to darkness. You can - and do - speed this process along by cycling ki around and through your eyes, amplifying the processes within your body that enable your night vision. Since you aren't entirely clear on the biological "how" of those processes, your efforts are more for the sake of giving yourself something to occupy your mind than an effective tactic.

Gained Environmental Adaptation F

Briar doesn't appear to object to the delay. She sits on your shoulder, humming lazily to herself, seeming perfectly content to relax and enjoy the atmosphere.

Gradually, the big dark blur resolves into numerous smaller dark blurs, and then shadowy shapes. That seems to be as far as your eyes are able to go, and the light of the moon - currently in its third quarter, or nearly so - doesn't offer much help. If anything, the way the lunar light washes out colors is detrimental, since it makes everything look just that little bit... off.

The glade looks much the same in person as it did when viewed through your Spell of Scrying, but now that you're here in person, feeling the cool dampness of the evening and surrounded by shadows and tree branches that whisper in the night's breeze, with only a tiny fairy for company, it's quite a bit spookier than you were expecting.

On the positive side, you don't feel like you're being watched, nor do you sense any magical auras that you hadn't already glimpsed through your previous divination. You suppose you could be wrong about that: there COULD be a subtle illusion lying over this place, hiding some important detail; you MIGHT have crossed a magical tripwire too well-hidden for you to notice; and MAYBE there actually is someone or something lurking nearby, impervious to your senses, watching and waiting.

But you really don't think so.

What do you do FIRST?

Briar's contented hum suddenly cuts out, and you faintly feel her shift on your shoulder.

"Problem, Briar?"

"...I thought I heard something," comes the reply. From the way her voice shifts, Briar must be looking around at the trees.

You follow suit, and for a long moment, all is quiet.

"Guess it was just my imagination," the fairy finally says.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. So, we've come all this way. What are you going to do now?"

"I was thinking a quick round of self-purification, and then a summoning to invoke the spirit of this place, so I could get its permission to perform the familiar ritual here."

"Not bad, not bad," Briar muses. "You will remember to stand clear of the site proper when you're burning out the Hellmouth crud, right? The smell that stuff gives off when you cleanse it is pretty foul."

"Good point," you agree, before turning and walking a short distance into the woods.

Considering how dark it is under the eaves, you cast a simple Cantrip of Light, using the mossy stone pillar as the anchoring focus. Normally, this spell creates a single torch-bright point of light, but that would ruin your night vision and reveal your exact location to anything with eyes for a fair distance around, so instead you modify it to create a cloud of faintly-glowing wisps, which rapidly multiply and spread outwards. The effect is like being surrounded by fireflies - or some of Briar's tinier cousins - and offers a reasonable level of illumination while keeping the exact source of the light de-centralized and harder for any observers to pin down.

Guided by the fairy-lights, you make your way through the trees, tracking the strength of the various auras that you can perceive. For a couple minutes' worth of walking, the energies of the grove decline only by the faintest of degrees, but then you catch sight of an area where the magical fields just... cut out. Heading in that direction, you find yourself on the edge of a small, quiet brook, the course of which perfectly delineates the mystical boundary of the grove. On the side where you stand, the auras are still strong and clear; on the other side of the flowing water, they've almost completely faded.

The brook isn't even deep enough to get your feet wet through your shoes, as long as you remember to lift your feet rather than drag them as you walk - and you do remember, having no desire to spend the next half-hour or so with wet shoes and damp socks. Once on the other side of the stream, you take a minute to confirm that the natural and supernatural boundary the brook represents will keep the magic you intend to work on THIS side of the waterline.

Then you make with the cleansing Light, searing away the Hellmouth taint that clings to your hair, skin, and clothes.

Your nose wrinkles at the subsequent smell.

"Any problems?" you call to Briar, who stayed on the other side of the brook.

"I don't smell a thing!"

"Lucky you."

Nothing shows up in response to your mystical ablutions, and once you're satisfied that you've stipped away as much of the demonic crud as you can, you re-cross the stream and make your way back to the heart of the grove. Here, you take the time to set up and perform the strongest, most secure, and most polite Summoning ritual you can manage - you can spare the time, and the level of power in this place certainly merits the effort. You're also very careful NOT to tap into the ambient energies of the grove as you work. Your reserves take a hit, but since you're planning to ask the spirit of this place for permission to use its power in a ritual, it would be REALLY unproductive to start off by taking some of that power without asking.

"Spirit of this place, guardian of tree and pool and stone, hear me. I have come from afar to speak with you, to seek your aid in a work of magic."

The empty space within the magic circle of pure mana that you laid out wavers like a heat mirage. Nothing appears, but you feel a distinct presence, an awareness that is regarding you from somewhere that is at once very close, and yet far removed. Describing it as "all around you" comes close, save that it doesn't cover the great sense of time, stretching away from you into the past, the future, and... elsewhere?

The spirit doesn't speak, doesn't display any kind of acknowledgement-

Gained King of Spirits F (Plus)
Gained Spirit Affinity F (Plus)

-but somehow, you're sure that you've at least maanged to snare its curiosity.

Taking a deep breath and silently asking the Goddesses for aid - something you've been doing a fair amount recently - you make with the explanations.

Being as polite as possible, you introduce yourself and Briar to the spirit, and state your mutual intention to enter into a sorcerer-familiar bond. You go into some detail of what the ritual in question requires of its participants, and how the form you intend to use would affect the spirit's domain.

The unseen presence shifts as you speak, becoming less... heavy? Focused?

Something about the change makes you think of school - specifically, a teacher standing quietly, only half-listening as Yet Another Student delivers a book report from the front of the room, like hundreds and perhaps thousands of pupils before.

"I am, of course, prepared to offer some recompense for your assistance," you add smoothly. "I had thought that a spell to aid in the replenishment of whatever power the ritual consumes would be appropriate-"

The presence shifts again, coming back to you.

"-but if there is some other task, within my abilities to perform and an exchange equivalent to what I seek-"

*TASK.*

You break off as the word, the CONCEPT, bypasses your ears and lodges itself directly in your brain. Possibly by way of your soul.

Also, ow.

Gained Haggling E (Plus) (Plus)

"And... what task did you have in mind?"

*TEST.*

...say what?

*WORTHINESS.*

...oh, you've got a baaad feeling about this...

The sense of elemental power that has filled the grove since you first scryed upon it begins to intensify, Earth, Air, Water, and Fire each stirring in its own way. The characters on the stone pillar begin to glow, as do the leaves of the great tree that stands across from it. At the same time, something at the bottom of the pool shimmers, while on the opposite side of the grove, a small flame crackles to life in the stone-lined firepit.

In addition to their distinct elemental energies, you can sense Spirit and Summoning magic gathered around each of the four objects. The powers flow differently than in the spells you're accustomed to using and the handful you've seen other practitioners wield, but there are similarities enough for you to discern outbound teleportation magic, waiting to be set off.

*CHOOSE.*

Briar turns to you, and says dryly, "It's Mom all over again, isn't it?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "I was just thinking that myself."

You consider each of your options, and then, as you always do in times of difficulty, turn to Briar.

"Just to be sure, are we both supposed to choose something here?"

"I think it's just you," she replies. "You're the one who's going to be doing the heavy lifting in the ritual, so you get to make the big choices."

"Yay, fun," you sigh. "Well, unless it strikes you as a really bad idea, I'm leaning towards the pillar."

"Any particular reason?"

"On the logic that we're about to walk into another trial-by-combat, I have a better chance of talking down an Earth Elemental than any other sort - and failing that, Earth is one of my best Elemental schools, so I have a better chance of spotting and hard-countering what an Earth Elemental does. Plus, dealing with Earth is pretty straightforward. It doesn't try to set you on fire or drown you, it just smashes and crushes. And you can fly away from most Earth Elementals."

"At least until they start throwing rocks at you," Briar notes.

"Yeah, that." You make a gentlemanly gesture. "So, shall we?"

"Why not?"

You walk towards the pillar, and as you cross the field of the Summoning magic, the world around you blurs and warps away.

From a dimly-lit forest glade, you find yourself transported to a dimly lit cavern. The chamber forms a rough cylinder, perhaps fifty feet across and twenty high. Floor and ceiling are both flat, or nearly so, and growths of crystal line the walls at regular intervals, providing a consistent level of blue-green light.

At the center of the room stands a vaguely-humanoid mass of rock and stone, sixteen feet tall if it's an inch. It has little in the way of a face, beyond eyes that are singular points of glowing green crystal, half-buried beneath a brow like a jutting cliff.

That craggy forehead furrows with a crackle like a tiny avalanche as it looks down at you.

*You are... smaller than the last mortal I tested,* the elemental rumbles.

"I'm young," you admit to the elemental. "I haven't reached my full growth yet."

*I see.*

"So, my name is Alex, and this is Briar."

Briar waves. "Hi."

One of the elemental's huge, stony fists unfurls to return the greeting. *Hello, tiny one. I have not met one of your kind for many turns of the seasons.*

"You've been down here that long?"

*Only during business hours. But even when I am free to roam the surface at my leisure, it has been a long time by the reckoning of mortals since I last met a fairy.* The elemental shrugs. *This is not entirely a bad thing.*

"We can be annoying," Briar admits.

*Flighty,* the elemental agrees.

"Airheads, even."

You wait a moment, to see if they're going to carry on. When the conversation falls silent, you pick it up.

"May I ask what sort of test you'll be giving me?"

*You may. And it is nothing out of the ordinary. You have requested something of significance to the spirit of the grove, and it wishes to test your power, your character, and your judgement to see if you are worthy of that favor. The spirit does not trust the words of mortals, however. There is bad, old history there. It must see them in action before it makes its decision. And so-*

Air rushes aside as the elemental's two huge hands come together with a thunderclap.

*-we fight. Power against power, will against will. How you face danger says much about your character.*

You look up at the elemental, three times your height and then some, and who knows how many times your weight, with long arms that reach almost to the floor and would have no trouble touching the ceiling. This chamber was clearly built to provide every advantage to the elemental: there's nowhere a challenger can go that's out of its reach, much less out of sight; there are no masses of water or fire that might be used against it in some fashion; and for all that they've obviously been shaped, the floor, walls, and ceiling are have that rough, unfinished look of natural stone, suggesting that the elemental can glide right through them as easily as you would the air.

*You are, of course, free to surrender at any time,* the elemental adds.

It's safe to say that the prospect of fighting a gigantic mass of living rock does not appeal to you. In this particular instance, however, NOT fighting it is an even MORE unattractive prospect. You simply can't let this opportunity to secure rights to such a potent mystical site slip away.

"May I have a minute to prepare for battle?" you inquire.

*You accept the challenge, then?* the elemental asks in response, with an unsettling glint in one of its crystal eyes.

You don't like that look. "What happens if I say yes?"

*Then I would have to say, 'EN GUARDE!'*

And with that, the elemental lunges at you, huge hands first.

Fortunately, you suspected that something like this was going to happen, and are already blurring into a Body Flicker as the first syllable of "en guarde" passes... er... whatever it is that earth elementals use to speak.

Fast as you are, you can't outrun sound - yet - and even from the far side of the chamber, the shockwave as the elemental's hands collide with the floor where you USED to be is staggering.

Gained Thunder Resistance F

You don't lose your balance, and while you do spare a moment to gape at your opponent - and more importantly, the shattered hole it just hammered into the ground - this doesn't interrupt the spell you'd been gathering power for since before you dodged.

As the giant elemental turns with unsettling speed to face you, you find yourself very glad that you took the opportunity to put some distance between the two of you.

*Fast,* it rumbles. *But not through magic? Interesting...*

Even as it speaks, the elemental is surging towards you, half striding across the ground, half flowing through it. It raises its fists as it advances-

Two things happen then, near-simultaneously:

You finish your Spell of Flight, and take to the air.

And the elemental brings its fists down on the center of the chamber, causing another shockwave - and also a surge of Earth Elemental magic, which manifests as a tremor that moves through the entire room, and jagged stone spikes erupting from every previously-smooth surface. The stalactites and stalagmites are only about three feet long each, and you manage to dodge their initial appearance without incident.

Still, the fact that they exist at all is concerning. Something like that is NOT a trick that a typical elemental can pull off.

Your current position puts you about five feet from the now-spike-covered wall, with roughly four feet of clearance between the soles of your shoes and the unpleasant carpet now laid out below, and a similar distance between your head and the lowered ceiling. The elemental is thirty feet away - meaning that, given the shape of the room and the sheer length of its arms, it has but to advance straight ahead, and it will be within striking distance of you. The stone spikes won't hinder their creator at all.

Thinking fast - and reacting almost as quickly - you gather mana and begin weaving a new spell.

The elemental responds by driving one of its fists up into the ceiling, setting off another Earth Magic-infused tremor. A moment later, stalactites begin to drop from the ceiling like a rain of rock. They don't fall all at once, nor in any pattern that you notice - you're a bit busy focusing on your spell and dodging the incoming stone spears - and after one evasive maneuver that leaves you briefly inverted, you are quite annoyed to see that the fallen spires don't even have the decency to leave behind patches of bare rock. Instead, they're being replaced, kind of like a shark growing in new teeth.

THAT pleasant image dogs you as you complete your spell, and extend one hand to point at the oncoming elemental, who's been using your unavoidable focus on his indoor environmental engineering to close the distance between you.

"HOLD IT, RIGHT THERE!" you boom, unleashing your magic.

And the elemental, suddenly surrounded by a globe of translucent force, does just that.

Gained Words of Power C (Plus)

Even scaled-up to accomodate the elemental's sheer bulk, the Resilient Sphere hardly seems large enough to hold your opponent. The unfortunate elemental has been separated from the rocky floor - probably experiencing no small amount of shock in the process - and compressed into a position that vaguely recalls a human forced to his knees, hands bound behind his back.

The squashed appearance of the elemental's earthen face, pressed up against the inner surface of the sphere like a fish in a bowl, is kind of funny.

For a moment, there is silence.

"...does this mean Alex wins?" Briar ventures.

*Not if I can free myself,* the elemental replies in a determined tone of voice.

There is another pause.

"So, can you?" the fairy asks.

*Give me a minute, will you?*

The elemental doesn't appear to move, but through the bonds of mana linking you to your spell, you sense pressure building on one side of the sphere - and then the construct rings almost like a low-pitched bell, as a massive force strikes the opposite (but still interior) surface of the globe.

The elemental repeats this attack two, three, four times - and slowly but surely, you can sense the force field wearing away under the entity's incredible strength. Even so, at its current rate of progress, the elemental's going to need a while to free itself.

Feeling a touch impatient, you gather mana and cast the Spell of Resilient Sphere a second time, wrapping the already-englobed elemental in a second layer of force.

The elemental notices the effect, and stops slamming the interior of the first globe.

*Oh, come on,* it rumbles.

"Sorry, but I think I'm going to call this my win," you tell the elemental. "I mean, there's nothing stopping me from casting the spell AGAIN, and in the time it'll take you to get out now, I can probably make up for the loss of mana through meditation."

Some of the loss, anyway. Not nearly enough to recoup everything you've spent - but then, that's what ritual casting is for.

*Fine, fine,* the elemental groans. *You win. Just let me out of here, will you?*

You quickly dismiss the two force-spheres, allowing the elemental to fall back to the ground with a dull *boom.*

"Sorry about locking you up like that," you apologize. "I wasn't sure about my ability to take you down nonlethally otherwise, and didn't want to risk it."

The elemental, who has half-submerged into the stone like a man enjoying a hot bath, regards you with a suspicious light in one faceted eye. Based on its attempt to attack you by surprise, you're half-expecting the stone spirit to take another swing at you now, but instead, it merely shrugs its massive shoulders.

*Whatever. Just don't do it again.*

"So, is that it?" Briar asks.

*That will depend on the spirit's judgement, but at the very least, my part in things is over.* One huge stone hand rises from the ground and makes a dismissive gesture towards you and your fairy. *You can go, now.*

Summoning magic whirls up, and a moment later, you're back in the grove, under the scrutiny of the unseen guardian spirit.

"Oh protector of this sacred place," you begin, before trailing off, slightly at a loss for words. With a shrug, you ask, "How'd I do?"

*QUICK,* comes the ethereal answer. It sounds vaguely amused, but beyond that, you can't tell if the spirit considers your worth proven or not.

Is there something you'd like to say or do to perhaps improve your chances?

As you make your conditional promise, the elemental rumbles.

*I suppose that is the most I can reasonably ask for.*

The earth elemental mentioned that the spirit of the grove doesn't trust the words of mortals. At best, then, you might say something meaningful and wise that the entity would promptly dismiss as so much noise on the wind. At worst, you could undo any progress you've made towards earning the right to use this location by rapidly and non-harmfully shutting down the elemental in single combat.

So why say anything? Let your actions speak for themselves.

You wait.

*PATIENCE,* the spirit notes after a time, with some degree of approval.

You think that's a good sign.

Its next word, however, is, *UNCERTAINTY.*

"How so?"

*QUICK.*

Ah. The downside of a swift victory; the spirit only got a brief glimpse at what you're like in a fight.

You suppose you could offer to do another trial, but do you really want to spend more time and mana on this?

"Well, my offer of a spiritual restoration spell as payment still stands," you say as an opener. "But if you'd prefer something more concrete and immediate, I could always do another trial."

The spirit considers that, and then says, *CHOOSE.*

Not surprised that it would go with throwing you into potential mortal peril over a quick-and-easy transaction, you head towards the quietly-crackling fire pit.

Halfway there, Briar casts a spell over the two of you.

"Resistance to Fire?" you guess.

"Yeah. Just in case we end up in another volcano."

"Good call," you admit, before stepping into the haze of teleportation.

When the world comes back into resolution, EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE.

The ground is a field of silvery ash and black char clinging to bare rock, much of which looks runny and melted. Something smoulders under the glittery powder, where it doesn't burn with merry little red-white flames.

The air is thick with smoke and other vapors, all roiling in the heat, and the ceiling overhead has the same semi-liquid appearance as the rocks on the ground. In places, it appears to have melted clean through, exposing a sky like molten iron.

The walls seem to sag under their own weight, at least where they, too, haven't been burned away. Black tar smears them, burning in fits and starts.

And the elemental? Yeah, it's also on fire. Sixteen feet of raw, raging flame, burning red-hot at the edges to orange to yellow to almost pure white at the center, the creature - whose resemblance to anything humanoid is even more vague than that of the earth elemental - stands almost thirty feet away from you, and yet despite the distance and Briar's protective spell, you can FEEL the heat pouring off the monster.

Gained Fire Resistance F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

It also appears to be dancing.

And singing.

*How you like it? Hot-hot-hot! How you feelin'? Hot-hot-hot!*

...

"Briar, am I suffering from heatstroke?"

"Nope."

"...I kind of wish I was."

The elemental whirls around in its... gyrations... and something that's probably meant to be a face is aimed in your direction.

*Hey! Visitors! Alright! The first test of the summer is MINE!*

You stare at the fire elemental for a moment.

An idea has occurred to you.

Objectively, you realize that it's a terribly silly idea, the sort of notion that will have Briar and Lu-sensei facepalming and smacking you, but at the same time, it's one that you can't NOT run with.

"Briar," you tell your companion, "you're going to want to put a LOT of distance between us."

"Oh, Farore," the fairy groans. "I know that tone of voice. Alex, what mad idea has crawled into your brain now?"

"Just a little bit about fighting fire... with fire."

The fire elemental appears to catch this remark. *Oh, I HAVE to see this.*

"...this is going to end in tears," Briar mutters. "I just know it."

She does as requested, however.

Once there are no small burnable people nearby, you call upon your magic, invoking a Spell of Transformation - and FIRE.

"Mighty Din, watch over me - because this next one's for you." Prayer uttered, you cast your spell: "Burn, baby, burn! DISCO INFERNO!"

Any tiny facepalms are lost in the surge of elemental power as your body is infused and blended with the raw essence of Fire. The air around you IGNITES in the instant of the transformation, and a blast wave of even more superheated air spreads across the chamber. When the light and sound have died down a bit, your not-quite five-foot tall body has EXPLODED into a humanoid mass of flame whose volume is almost exactly equal to your opponent.

Staring across the volcanic chamber with eyes of flame, you point a challenging finger at your adversary.

*You. Me. Dance-off. Right here, right now.*

There is a moment of silence.

And then, the fire elemental grins.

*HELL. YES.*

Gained King of Spirits F (Plus) (Plus)

Out of nowhere, music starts playing. Some magic on the part of your opponent? Divine providence, maybe? Or perhaps it's just an inherent part of the nature of Fire - for no matter where or when or how it burns, Fire always DANCES.

And what is a dance without music?

As your proposed dance-off gets underway, you learn a few things. For one, just because you have the form of a fire elemental, it doesn't mean you can automatically move like one. There's an effortless agility to your opponent's movements that you can't quite match, to say nothing of how it tucks and contorts and back-burns its own body in ways that no solid living creature could replicate. Even octopi aren't that twisty.

You don't simply give up, however. Calling upon your natural physical prowess, your experience against the Shuzen sisters, and the favor you hold with your Goddess, you put your heart into the dance and do your best to match the showy acrobatics of your rival with pure energy and feeling.

Gained Reflexes C
Gained Speed C (Plus) (Plus)

As you and your opponent move ever more fiercely, the temperature rises. Air shimmers, rock bubbles, and superheated vapors erupt from somewhere below the seared stone. A curious scent/flavor/texture registers through the burning that is your primary physical sense in this form, and faint blue flames are visible nearby.

*Oh, yeah! LIGHT. IT. UP!*

Caught up in the moment, it occurs to you that you could cast a Spell of Transformation on Briar, allowing her to take part in this high-temperature dance-off. When you look around, however, the only glimpse you catch of the fairy is a sparkling light, zooming away from you and your opponent as fast as her little wings can carry her.

Something about that sight bothers you.

Wait, wasn't there gas escaping the ground just a-

BOOOOM!

All is white, and force, and rushing noise.

The next thing you know, you're back in human form, lying on a carpet of hot ashes, watching a cloud of sparkling dust as it drifts through the air.

Your head is ringing, and everything aches. You vaguely recall running - or burning? - away from the plumes of off-colored, funny-smelling/tasting/feeling vapor before everything went kablooey, which is probably why you're waking up in one piece, rather than scattered all over the fiery chamber.

*Wheeeeee,* crackles a tiny, dizzy voice of flames from somewhere nearby.

Hauling yourself upright, you look around.

Now only about a foot tall, the fire elemental lies at the edge of a blast crater that could swallow most of your house, and makes a fist-pump of victory towards the volcanic sky.

*Awesome finale. Dance on, fireboy.*

Gained Fire Affinity E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Then the elemental flops backwards, apparently unconscious.

...does that mean you won?

Somewhere nearby, a small fairy throat is cleared.

No, you realize, as you turn to face the Briar. You haven't won yet.

Is there something you'd like to say to the angry fairy to explain yourself?

"I hope that the spirit would agree that this isn't at all how the mortals that previously offended it behave," are the first words to come out of your mouth.

Maybe you've been concussed, and that's what's talking?

"Oh, I think we can safely assume that much," Briar agrees pleasantly. "It takes a special kind of madness to do what you just did."

"In my defense, a dance-off is NORMALLY safer than a fight. Can you really blame me for not wanting to fight a sixteen-foot-tall living inferno when there was another option?"

You take stock of your condition. After that little blast-enabled tumble, you're pretty much plastered in ashes, but it's nothing a quick cantrip or three can't fix. As the glittering volcanic dust peels away from your person and drifts back towards the floor, you circulate your ki, getting a feel for what hurts, and how badly.

All in all, it feels like bruises. Lots of them, and all over the place, but nothing more serious.

Not bad for being on the edge of a massive explosion. You're glad you noticed it and started withdrawing when you did - you just wish you'd been a bit faster about it.

"So how are you holding up after that blast, Briar?"

"I was far enough away that I mostly got tumbled ass over teakettle and a blast of bad-smelling hot air," she grumbles. "Speaking of... hold still."

"I'm alright," you say, as the fairy begins scanning you. "It's just a lot of bruises."

"I'll be the judge of that, Mister Dances With Fire Elementals."

Speaking of... your gaze trails to the greatly-diminished and apparently unconscious elemental in question.

"Is there anything we can do for him?"

"What do either of us know about healing LIVING FIRE? If you want to drop a healing spell on it, I won't stop you, but if it isn't going out, I'd say all it needs is rest and something to burn."

Briar has a point. Still, seeing the once-massive fire-being reduced to a fraction of its former flaming glory, you can't help but feel a bit responsible.

Healing magic as you know it is based on the application of "positive energy," which mimics, reinforces, and in cases of extreme injury replaces the established patterns you know as "life," both in terms of energy and matter. The fire elemental is a living being, however strange and alien the patterns that dictate its form of life may appear to you, so the basic principles of healing magic should still apply - "just add positive energy," for lack of a better term.

Considering how much the fire elemental was diminished by the explosion, you see no point in holding back, and cast the strongest healing spell you can muster.

It seems to do the elemental some good, if the way its body blazes up to a good three feet in height is any indication. The living fire also seems to burn brighter and clearer in the wake of the healing spell - and of course, it's a bit hotter as well. Not so much as to overcome that Spell of Resistance to Fire Briar cast earlier, but enough to register.

Gained Fire Elementalism C

As an afterthought, you take Briar's other suggestion, and conjure as large a mass of permanent wood as you can bring into being. The neatly cut-and-stacked logs begin to burn merrily almost as soon as they finish phasing in from the aether, and the fire elemental rolls over in its ashy crater until it's facing the new blaze, crackling to itself in a voice that seems at best half-awake.

*Mmmm... nice burny... crack snapple pop...*

Gained King of Spirits F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You take that as a good sign.

"Are we done here?" Briar asks.

Before you can answer, that odd teleportation magic kicks in again, and you're back in the grove.

"...I'll take that as a yes."

There is a pause, and then the spirit speaks, in a tone of clear disbelief:

*DANCING?*

Everyone's a critic.

The spirit's tone of disbelief prompts a sheepish smile and shrug from you. Besides that, however, you decide not to offer any further commentary on the matter, letting your deeds - and your dancing - speak for themselves.

There IS a certain temptation to point out your relationship with Din and her inclusion of Dance in her divine portfolio, but you don't follow through with the impulse - and perhaps it's just as well.

After all, even if Din is pleased by your foray into fiery interpretive dance, Nayru very likely isn't. Farore could go either way on the subject, but given that she's the one Briar tends to call on when she's frustrated with you... yeah, it probably really is for the best not to bring the sisters up.

Lacking any further comments or explanations on your part, the guardian spirit's presence withdraws into itself in a thoughtful manner. As it does so, you notice the two remaining summoning portals fade away.

That could be a bad sign...

*FAIRY.*

Briar twitches in mid-air. "Yes?"

*FAMILIAR BOND?*

"Yes."

*WITH THIS ONE?*

Briar sighs. "Yeah."

*GOOD LUCK.*

Oi!

"Thanks. I'm going to need it."

"Hey-!"

*PERMISSION GRANTED.*

You pause in building tirade. "-um, thank you?"

The spirit doesn't reply.

Is there anything else you want to do here?

Your business here is concluded.

"Thank you for your time and consideration, guardian," you say, more formally than your hasty expression of gratitude from a moment ago. "With your permission, we'll be on our way."

*GRANTED.*

Bowing to the center of the grove, you back away until you've reached the treeline. Then you turn and make your way through the forest - still dimly lit by your firefly-cantrip - until you've reached the stream and exited the region of the spirit's influence. Here, you gather mana and perform the teleport spell that will take you back to Sunnydale. Or more correctly, to the area outside of town.

You make it back to the 'Dale without incident, and you still have enough time left before class begins that you can afford to take a pleasant afternoon stroll, instead of burning up the streets and sidewalks with ki-boosted speed.

You arrive at Lu-sensei's about ten minutes early, in time to see the students from a previous class - five in total, all but one of them adults - going through the end-of-lesson cooldown routines. Lu-sensei gives you a wordless nod of greeting and then gestures to one side, asking you to stay out of the way until he's finished with this group.

You have no objection to this, and proceed to make yourself socially-invisible - or at least quiet and unobtrusive.

Larry arrives a few minutes later, and joins you off to the side while Lu-sensei is speaking with a couple of his students.

"Hey, man," Larry says quietly. "How'd things turn out with your family yesterday?"

"The folks were kind of upset," you admit. "We stayed in and watched a special on TV, I put on a show, it went about as well as could be expected. How about you?"

Larry frowns. "Mom thought I'd caught a fever or something and was seeing things. I spent the evening in bed, with her fussing, and she's been looking at me like she expects me to faint or something all day."

Huh.

"Well, at least she and your Dad didn't go out, right?"

Larry nods glumly. "Yeah. That is the important thing. I just wish it was... y'know..."

"Less embarrassing."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Only way I can maybe see that happening is if you come clean with your folks about what goes on around here after dark," you say. "With evidence, witnesses - the whole court testimony package. Do you know if your folks have ever talked to your grandmother about the town? Because she seems to have a pretty solid handle on this place."

"I'm not sure," Larry admits after a moment. "Sometimes I get the feeling Mom and Grandma Lily don't really like each other, and Dad's kind of... stuck between them, if that makes sense."

...really? You recall being told that Mrs. Blaisdell refused to allow guns in her house, and that Lily thought her daughter-in-law was a bit of an idiot on the subject, but held her peace as long as Larry was allowed to learn about guns at HER house. That was as far as it went, though.

Then again, have you ever seen Larry's mother and grandmother interact for more than, say, five minutes at a time?

Thinking back, you're not sure you have.

And Larry WOULD know better than you on this subject. So, if he thinks there's something off about how the members of his family interact, he may well be right - in which case, it's likely that his mother, at least, either HASN'T talked with Lily about the real dangers in Sunnydale, or DID, and then refused to believe what she heard. It's also possible that Larry's folks DO know about the things that go bump in the night (and the afternoons, apparently), and just prefer a different means of dealing with that knowledge than his grandmother does.

But if THAT's the case, the Blaisdells seem to be taking the same route your folks did towards the supernatural - which basically boils down to, "ignore it and hope it returns the favor." And THAT approach... well.

There are better methods of dealing with the perils of Sunnydale than sticking your head in the sand and pretending they aren't there - methods that don't rely entirely on the whims of fickle fate and sheer random chance for their success. Methods that - in your admittedly atypical personal experience - actually WORK.

And that's not just the eight-year-old prodigal kung fu sorcerer speaking, or even the inherited memories of the once and hopefully not future King of Evil. You know people whose families are aware of what goes bump in the night in this day and age, who HAVEN'T entrusted their survival entirely to luck. The Shuzens, the Drakes, and the ninjas all train to actively face the dangers of the Moonlit World; the Kurosakis and the Arisawas, while choosing to live more or less normal lives, have taken steps to guard themselves and their children; and here in the 'Dale, you have individuals like Lily Blaisdell and Lu-sensei, who've survived for decades on the very Mouth of Hell without closing their eyes to reality.

Heck, even your Uncle Rory was doing better than Larry's parents, with his regular purchases of those low-grade protective talismans. Not MUCH better, true, certainly not as much as he could and probably SHOULD have been doing - and he DID almost create a legion of the fuzzy undead along the way, however unintentionally.

The point remains, Rory was at least doing SOME small thing to keep himself safe. The Blaisdells may not be doing even that much.

And that? That just doesn't work. It's dangerous, it's DUMB, it's... it's...

You take a moment to stop, control your breathing, and calm down. You were starting to get a little worked up there. Granted, you had reason - it concerns the life and safety of one of your friends and his family, for Din's sake-!

Breathe. In. Out. Calm.

Larry is giving you a look. "You alright there, Alex?"

"Yeah, just... a little bothered by the idea that your parents might - MIGHT - be acting like ostriches where Sunnydale's nightlife is concerned."

Larry nods.

Before either of you can say more on the subject, Lu-sensei calls you to attention.

"Summer vacation being what it is," the old man says, "it seems it'll be just the four of us today. And given recent events, I felt that something different from the usual routine might be in order. Not that you're getting out of practice," he adds firmly. "But afterwards, if there's something in particular either of you would like to do...?"

You and Larry trade glances.

While there are a few other things you'd like to do eventually, there is one thing that takes priority, and that's SCIENCE. Magical science, admittedly, but SCIENCE nonetheless. You ARE going to figure out how Briar's healing works, and you WILL convert it to a spell - because that kind of ability is just too much of a literal life-saver to pass up, even if you WEREN'T living on the Hellmouth. The fact that Briar can use it twice a day is great, but having access to even more uses would be even better.

After all, you know a lot more than two people whose lives are - technically - being put at risk, just by living in this town.

You don't phrase it this way, of course, but Lu-sensei probably grasps the value of healing magic even better than you do. Larry most likely doesn't get it, at least not on the same level as you and your master, who've both seen mortal combat, but that's okay; you're in no hurry to see your friends gain that kind of experience, and you don't want to scare Larry out of assisting you in your research by sounding too intense about the subject.

In any event, magical science comes later.

First, there are martial arts to be practiced.

As you proceed through the basic warm-up and start the serious drills, you note that Lu-sensei isn't pushing you and Larry as hard as he was in your last class. It seems he's serious about keeping things to practice levels. Which is fine - as the sensei, it's his call to make.

Besides, the less time spent on exercises and sparring, the more time there is to spend on research!

On the other hand, less of a workout means less obvious muscle fatigue, and a harder time telling what effects Briar's full-power healing has on a person. You're already dumbing things down by testing the magic on a person who's not truly injured; do you really want to limit your observations even further?

And on the other, other hand, Lu-sensei really isn't doing you or Larry any favors by giving you a light workout. Larry WAS on the verge of touching his ki the other day, and no matter how advanced your own skills are, they could always stand to be improved.

Being merely mortal, Lu-sensei's judgement is imperfect. Certainly, his decision to invite you to the World Martial Arts Tournament proved to be a mixed bag of good, bad, and just plain odd outcomes. That said, the negative elements of the Tournament weren't your teacher's fault or even his responsibility: some people are just jerks; evil can be found in any sapient species you know of; and keeping everything on an even keel was ultimately the duty of the Tournament's hosts and organizers.

Besides, if you want to get REALLY technical about it, you'd bear some of the responsibility for putting yourself in harm's way outside the ring. Being menaced by killer calamari, giantkin, summoned shadow monsters, and Mohra demons wasn't your fault any more than it was your master's, but teleporting into a blown-out box under siege by ninja? Wandering around Hawaii at night, when you knew there was an evil old sorcerer hanging around who meant you ill? Yeah, those were on you.

The point remains: when it comes to pure training, Lu-sensei has yet to steer you wrong. There's no need to start second-guessing him at this point.

And really, what's the point of paying a martial arts master for his time, if you're not going to follow his instructions?

The light sparring takes fifteen minutes at most, and the cooldowns afterwards only a couple more.

Then, it's time to make with the magic.

As before, you take the time to set up, enhancing your mind and senses with all the methods at your command that won't risk breaching Lu-sensei's wards. Once that's done, you signal Briar, who moves towards your previously-agreed-upon subject of observation:

With the experiment complete, is there anything else you'd like to do at Lu-sensei's?

You've already analyzed how Briar's fairy dust affects a normal person with no obvious supernatural capabilities. What you need to know now is how the magic interacts with the different forms of power you're aware of - and who better than Lu-sensei to give you an idea of how this fairy magic affects ki? Especially now that you have a good idea of how Briar's healing works on "normal" people? That information should make a scan of your master's reaction to the magic more effective, by allowing you to set aside everything you see that's the same as Larry's reaction, and focus on the differences.

That's the theory, anyway.

In practice, the results are a bit less satisfying. Lu-sensei's not injured, he hasn't used up much - if any - of his ki today, and as far as you can tell, he isn't even as tired as you and Larry are(n't) from your abbreviated workout. Consequently, the impact of Briar's magic is significantly reduced. It just sort of sweeps over him, leaving few if any of the patterns of healing energy at work that you saw on Larry yesterday.

Which is not to say that you don't learn ANYTHING. Briar's magic appears to soothe some of Lu-sensei's old aches and pains, if not to the extent of a Spell of Age Resistance; where that magic would let him bounce around like he was decades younger, this is more like taking a painkiller to deal with a headache. Or maybe arthritis is the more appropriate comparison? Your master has never mentioned such a condition, and he seems perfectly limber, but given his advanced age...

Well, regardless, you still haven't learned as much as you'd like of how Briar's magic affects ki-users. You make a mental note to see if Cordelia will allow you to observe its effects on her when she gets back from wherever she's gone for summer vacation.

Gained Science F (Plus)

With your experiment concluded - at least for the time being - there isn't much reason for you to hang around the dojo. You have things to do, and the one that comes to mind most is calling up Archer to let him know what you've learned about the differences between your world and the world(s) he described, and then see if he's willing to provide any additional support.

You don't really feel like summoning Archer at Lu-sensei's. Even if the wards could take it, odds are you're going to be talking with him for quite a while, which greatly increases the odds that somebody will walk in and see and hear things you'd prefer to be kept secret.

But maybe you should invite Lu-sensei along for the summoning? Both for his counsel and to lend an air of "adult authority" to the whole deal?

Yeah, there's no harm in letting your master know you plan to summon an Heroic Spirit for a progress report on events regarding the Grail War. If Lu-sensei has questions of his own for Archer, or any... admittedly reasonable concerns about needing to provide adult supervision for the meeting, he can say so. And if he doesn't, he'll still likely appreciate the heads-up.

As it happens, Lu-sensei WOULD like to be present when you next contact Archer.

"Were you planning on doing so tonight, tomorrow, or later this week?" he inquires.

"Whichever is most convenient, Sensei."

"I would appreciate it if you waited until tomorrow, then. Until, say, ten o'clock? I have... an obligation to attend to tonight-"

"Old folks' Poker Night?" you ask innocently.

Lu-sensei regards you silently for a moment, then - probably mindful of your keen hearing - mutters something about Lily Blaisdell that you don't quite catch.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Though it's more of a Poker Night and breakfast the next day - most of my local peers prefer not to be out after dark."

"What, like a sleepover?" Larry blurts out.

The description had occurred to you, as well.

"...you... could put it that way, I suppose," Lu-sensei replies faintly. He has the tone and expression of a man who never would have put it that way himself, thinking it undignified, and yet finds himself disquieted by just how ACCURATE the term is.

"Well, since class is over, I guess we'll go ahead and get out of your hair, Sensei," you say brightly. "Come on, Larry!"

"Wha- dude, I can walk!"

"Then start walking," you advise your friend through a bright, broad smile, while not quite letting go of him. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you offer a wave and a, "'bye, Sensei!"

Lu-sensei returns a bemused wave of his own as you all but drag Larry towards the door.

You don't release Larry until you're out on the street. Once you've done so, he straightens his shirt and gives you a determined look.

"Alex. Seriously, man; what the heck was that?"

"I think your calling his friendly get-together a 'sleepover' kind of blew a fuse in Sensei's head," you tell Larry.

"...what, really?"

"Yeah. I've spent enough time around him by now that I can usually tell when he's having a moment - you know, 'this isn't actually happening,' and 'what did I do to deserve this?'"

"'Oh, gods, what has the boy done now?'" Briar puts in.

You glare at her, but admit, "Yeah, that too."

"And you had to drag me out of there because...?" Larry inquires.

"Mostly just giving the old man a chance to regain his bearings in private. And to avoid either of us saying anything else that might poke at a sensitive area while he's... mentally off-balance."

"Lu-sensei, sensitive?" Larry asks in disbelief. "Really?"

You shrug. "Adults, man. They get worked up about the strangest things, sometimes."

To that, Larry can only nod.

You walk a certain distance with Larry, before saying mutual good-byes and splitting up to head home. You're looking forward to an uneventful evening at home...

...although it occurs to you that perhaps now might be a good time to talk to your mother about certain issues...?

You return home, intent on sitting down with your mother for another round of talking about her potential for magic, and what she could do with it if she wanted to.

The house is fairly quiet when you enter, prompting you not to make too much noise - Zelda's napping schedule can be a bit erratic, depending on factors like the amounts of exercise and sugar she's had lately. This time of the afternoon would be rather late, but it has happened from time to time.

"Alexth!"

And this appears not to be one of those times.

Your little sister comes running down the hall, Moblin following far enough behind that he doesn't risk knocking her over. Zelda skids to a halt just short of a collision with you, grabs your hand, and starts tugging you forward.

"Come and thee what I can do!"

Indulgently, you allow yourself to be dragged through the house and out into the backyard, passing your mother along the way; she's sitting in the dining room, with several folders' worth of paper spread out on the table before her, making entries. Stuff from the hospital, you suspect, having seen the like on numerous occasions in the past.

"Weclome home, Alex," Jessica says, a touch absently, while continuing to work. "How was class?"

"It was just me and Larry, today, so Lu-sensei kept things simple." You glance at Zelda, and then turn back to your mother. "Out of curiosity, what am I being taken to see?"

"It's a surprise/it'th a thurprithe!"

Duly chastised, you let Zelda finish dragging you into the backyard.

Where she promptly demonstrates her ability to turn a somersault. Then, getting back to her feet, she strikes a triumphant pose.

"Taa-daa!"

"That's great, Zelda," you congratulate her.

"Jutht an hour!" Zelda says, promptly and proudly. "I thaw it on televithion and Mommy thaid I could try to do it ath long ath thhe wath there, and I tried it and I did it!"

An hour, huh? Granted, it's just a forward roll - you bend down, put your hands and head on the ground, and then kick off so that your hindquarters go up-and-over - pretty much the simplest of all acrobatic moves, but Zelda's execution of it was very smooth. Especially for a two-year-old. She didn't falter when she pushed forward, didn't complain about rolling around on uneven ground, and didn't wobble at any point, even when all of her weight was being supported by her upper body, with a dose of momentum thrown in for good measure.

"That's really good, Zelda," you say encouragingly.

She grins.

"And extra points for asking Mom before trying to do something you saw on TV," you add.

Zelda suddenly twitches in a way that has your Big Brother Instincts sitting up and taking notice.

"...you did ask Mom before you tried it, right, Zelda?"

"...yeth?"

Your fluency in Little Sister tells you that this means, "No."

You give Zelda a brief look of disappointment, but - since your mother has clearly already dealt with the matter - you allow it to pass without further comment.

Zelda appears to appreciate this.

Gained Big Brother E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Elder King E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You spend maybe half an hour playing with Zelda and Moblin before heading inside and downstairs.

"So, what are we doing down here, again?" Briar asks, as you cast the Spell of Mirror Hideaway.

"I want to talk to Mom about her potential for learning magic again," you say. "But I want to try and plan it out this time: how I'm going to open; ways the conversation might go; and what I should say if it does. That kind of thing."

"And you couldn't do this in your room, because...?"

"Well, for starters, I don't want to be disturbed." You pause to step through the cold, not-quite-cutting face of the mirror. After taking a moment for the obligatory shudder on the other side, you continue speaking. "And besides that, I'm going to be using a bit of magic while I plan. Like I said, I want to plan it out - and I want to get the best result possible."

"And that is?" Briar inquires.

What is your ideal outcome for the impending discussion?

Improving your mother's opinion of magic, and the likelihood she'll choose to learn.

You state your objective to Briar, who nods in response.

"Okay, then. I have to admit, I've never tried to plan out a conversation before - but what the heck. Let's give it a shot."

You ritually cast the spells you had in mind - optimizing yourself for "social combat," as it were - and then spend a couple minutes just thinking about your mother, and your previous, cut-short-by-Zelda-waking-up-early conversation on the topic of magic. Through the mental prism of magically-enhanced wit, sensitivity, and pure charisma, you begin to see the outlines of a discussion.

Over the better part of the next hour, you talk, debate, and amicably argue with Briar about what to say to your mother, and how to say it for maximum effect. You'll make a pitch, Briar will do her best to shoot holes in it - her best, incidentally, is quite good - and then you'll revise your words.

There are a couple of points where you get derailed by arguments about whether or not your mother would have said something that Briar did. Your fairy companion has been hanging around your home long enough that she knows your mom almost as well as you do, and her invisibility has allowed her to witness the occasional incident of "un-momly" behavior, which likely wouldn't have happened - or been allowed to happen - in your presence.

Not only does this make for interesting conversation, it lets Briar add realism to her role as "Jessica Harris." That, in turn, enables you to make your planned discussion more detailed and expansive than it otherwise would have been.

As the hour comes to a close, you believe you've got a solid plan for improving your mother's opinion of magic, and the likelihood that she'll choose to learn.

However, you can't use it just yet. It's almost time for dinner.

You decide to wait a bit before talking with your mother. It would be best for there to be as few distractions as possible, and also as few extra participants as possible - or rather, for there to be none at all.

Fortunately, there's a baseball game on tonight, so that's your father taken care of. Zelda isn't quite as into baseball as she is wrestling, but you have a quick talk with her, about how you need to discuss "boring big person stuff" with your mother, and how you're concerned that Dad might feel left out and lonely on his own.

Maybe you lay it on a bit heavy, but when Zelda gets this adorable look of determination on her face, you take it as evidence of a successful argument.

This leaves you and your mother sitting at the dining room table, talking quietly about magic.

You follow your mental script, and resume the discussion you were having the other day, more or less from where you left off - before getting side-tracked by mention of Ambrose's impending visit. You describe some of the practical applications of low-level magic, the ones that you think would interest your mother the most - being able to instantly clean a given article of clothing, for example, would be extraordinarily useful for her, both at home and at work. The convenience of being able to fetch small items from a distance, to repair torn or chipped items, to be able to start or extinguish small fires on demand, to always have a light on hand - it's simple stuff, mundane uses of the art that would make life just that little extra bit easier.

You considered bringing up the Spell to Stabilize Wounds in this conversation, as it would be nothing short of a godsend for a nurse, but after some discussion with Briar, you decided to let it pass unmentioned for the time being. Mainly because that spell isn't a cantrip for sorcerers, but rather, a first-circle spell, and thus something your mother won't be able to cast for a while. Priests, druids, and witches can cast it more easily and naturally, because they have something they can rely on for guidance - gods for the clerical set and some of the druids, patron spirits for the witches and the rest of the nature-worshippers. Sorcerers need a bit more practice and understanding, both of their magic and of what they're trying to tell it to do, to overcome the gap.

You see no reason to torment your mother with the knowledge that she COULD be helping to save lives at work, when it'll take at least a year - and more likely several - before she's ready to cast that spell even once.

While it's quite possible that you could train your mother as a witch, you're not keen on making the attempt. It would rely a little too heavily on your past life's memories for you to be comfortable with, not to mention your concerns about the Earth-native spirits that would act as your mother's teachers and guides in the future. Like you told her the other day, relying on external power on the Hellmouth is risky business - and while you could teach her how to use her own power Hyrulean-style even if she did study the path of witchcraft, she'd still be beholden to her patron for knowledge.

And as they say, Knowledge is Power. One of the most dangerous kinds, at that.

As for training your mother as a priestess or druid... let's just say that you have very reasonable doubts about your mother's willingness to convert to worship of any of the Golden Goddesses at this point in her life. Or to become a "hippy tree-hugger" - her words, overheard in a conversation with your father a while ago.

Your discussion goes fairly well. Thanks to your preparations and Briar's help in tailoring your arguments, you managed to cover most of the questions and counter-arguments your mother ends up making - and several more that she never gets around to asking. She doesn't come out and make her decision about learning magic, but she seems much more receptive to the idea now than she did yesterday.

It's about seven-thirty when the conversation between you and your mother winds to an end.

You brush your teeth early and spend the next hour in your room, writing letters to your friends. You decide to write to Ichigo first, since he missed Kahlua's birthday, and you've finished that one and a good portion of a letter to Ayane when your father carries Zelda up to bed. Your mother, following along behind him, pauses to look in one you and make a shushing gesture, to which you wordlessly nod.

You finish Ayane's letter, consider starting one to Kasumi, and then check the time. Seeing that it's already quarter to nine, you decide to call it a night.

After all, there is magic on the schedule for tomorrow. You want to be well-rested for it.

The night passes quietly, your sleep untroubled by dreams, nightmares, or troublesome memories. When you wake up the next morning, you're refreshed and fully charged, ready to face the day.

A glance out the window has you tempted to reconsider that statement.

It's early yet, but the sky is even darker than it should be at this time of year - Sunnydale's buildings and widely-spaced streetlights put out enough of a glow for you to make out the dark, heavy clouds filling the sky from horizon to horizon.

Looks like you're in for some rain. Hopefully, it'll be over with before Lu-sensei has to walk in it...

...

...you just envisioned Lu-sensei, using his ludicrous speed to walk to your house and arriving completely dry, because he dodged the rain.

It's actually a pretty cool image.

Shaking that off, you get out of bed and begin your morning rituals.

Breakfast passes, Dad goes off to work, and you spend the next hour playing with Zelda and Moblin and watching a bit of TV.

The sky remains overcast, and as the clock ticks past nine, you eye the clouds suspiciously.

You have faith that no mere weather formation will stop your master.

Also, you're hoping for an opportunity to see Lu-sensei doing something as awesome as dodging falling raindrop - and perhaps acquiring the skill for yourself...?

You give some thought to writing another letter or two while you wait, but you find that you're not really in the mood for that just now.

Also, it would distract you from your opportunity to sense Lu-sensei coming.

So you play with Zelda and Moblin for a while - and as you more than half-suspected, it starts to rain. It's not one of those brief but intense downpours typical to the region; the precipitation is lighter and steadier, the sort of rain that promises to last for a while. Even inside the house, the air grows slightly cooler and more damp, just enough to be a touch unpleasant. While hardly forbidding, these aren't the sort of conditions anyone would care to venture out in if they had another choice.

Lu-sensei certainly has that choice, and could easily call you to reschedule the summoning, or just tell you to go ahead without him.

And yet, the phone remains silent.

Around ten to ten, you start looking out through the living room window. You've got a pretty good view of the street in both directions from here, so it's your best bet - short of laying out detection spells - to notice the old man's approach.

"Whatcha doin', Alexth?" Zelda inquires from her favorite spot on the floor, next to Moblin.

"Just checking to see if Lu-sensei is out there."

Zelda looks out the window and wrinkles her nose. "It'th raining," she points out.

"Yeah," you agree, keeping your eyes on the road. "I'm wondering if he's going to call and... cancel..."

At your odd tone, Zelda gets up, flops down on the couch next to you, and looks where you're looking.

"That'th a funny hat," she says after a moment.

It's one of those conical hats you usually see in movies set in rural areas of Southeast Asia, being worn by rice farmers or general "peasants." It also seems to be doing a fine job of keeping the drizzle off Lu-sensei and his robes, at least as far as you can tell from this distance.

Honestly, you're feeling a bit let down. A hat, Sensei? Really? Where are the phenomenal martial arts powers? Where's the super-high-speed-running and dodging-the-rain?

With a mental sigh of disappointment, you get up and head for the dining room.

"Mom," you say, leaning into the room where she's working. "Lu-sensei's coming up the street just now."

"Alright, Alex. Would he like tea, do you think?"

You consider your master's tastes.

That attended to, you turn around and walk back up to the hall, approaching the front door. Then you wait for a minute, until:

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You open the door, and regard your master, who does indeed appear to be perfectly dry. "Good morning, Lu-sensei."

"Good morning, Alex."

In true Sunnydale fashion, he doesn't request entry, and you don't offer; you merely step back, allowing your teacher to enter, and he does so - after removing his hat and shaking off the worst of the rainwater clinging to it. Then he hands the hat to you, and you spend a minute trying to figure out where to put the thing, before finally hanging it off one of the coat hooks.

"Would you like some tea, Sensei?" you offer, as you close the door. "Mom's making some just now."

"I believe I would, thank you. There's a bit of a chill in the air today, and something to chase it off would be nice."

You spend about twenty, twenty-five minutes attending to the necessary pleasantries, and giving Lu-sensei time to savor a cup of hot tea. Just to be polite, you try the stuff yourself. It's... tea? Wet, hot, with a sort of leafy tang and a touch of grittiness.

Maybe you need more experience to properly appreciate the drink.

Or maybe Mom needs to buy better blends.

Or both.

Anyhow, once the idle conversation is spent, you, Lu-sensei, and Briar excuse yourselves and head down to the basement, where you cast the Spell of Mirror Hideaway. As soon as you've passed through the mirror and gotten over the unsettling transition, you begin laying out the summoning circle. Behind you, Lu-sensei sets down the chairs you made a point of moving into the basement, for when you have extended business to attend to in your sub-dimensional casting chamber.

About ten minutes later, the last syllables of the Spell of Planar Binding echo through the mirror-walled chamber, and the familiar form of Archer appears within the circle.

He blinks, twice. "Huh. Hello again, Sorcerer. Old man. What's the occasion?"

"There's been some progress on our end regarding the Grail War," you explain. "I thought you'd like to hear about it."

"You thought right," Archer admits, summoning his chair of swords and sitting down. "What have you got?"

You proceed to fill Archer in on everything you've learned about Fuyuki and the Grail Wars since you last summoned him.

Hearing that your world has had TEN Servants per Grail War since the Third War clearly surprises Archer.

Finding out that there are FOUR Servants still kicking around from the Fourth War ALARMS him. More so when you reveal their identities.

And when you mention that there are gods and demon lords who have taken an interest in the upcoming Fifth War, Archer looks like he wants to laugh, or cry.

"You don't do things by halves, do you, Sorcerer?"

There isn't much you can say to that.

"Alright," Archer sighs. "So despite the lack of a fire in Fuyuki, the situation is actually a whole lot WORSE than I was expecting. That's... typical, really. But you say you've got help?"

Archer listens intently as you recount your list of allies.

Your description of Ambrose prompts no reaction more pronounced than a roll of the eyes, and a brief comment that ALL powerful wizards are eccentric, where they aren't full-blown crazy.

Since you opted to leave the Arisawa family's oni lineage secret, your description of Akkiko merits only a wordless nod.

And when you mention the Shuzens, Archer STARES at you, mouth droping open as if in shock - or perhaps because he's about to say something.

You keep speaking, however. "And in addition to them, I have some divine backers of my own, even if they are being blocked from helping TOO much due to the local Celestial - and Infernal - Bureaucracy."

"...I see," Archer finally manages. "Well, I suppose even Dead Apostles wouldn't want the world to end... most of the time."

"Dead what now?" you inquire.

"Apostles. It's another term for the most common sort of vampire."

"You mean the demonic corpse variety?"

Archer frowns. "What demonic corpse variety?"

Now it's your turn to stare.

Lu-sensei clears his throat. "What we've got here is failure to communicate."

A brief discussion on the nature of vampires ensues.

Archer describes a hierarchy of undeath, starting with victims-turned-shambling corpses he simply labels "the Dead," as their souls have moved on. While strong and resilient, these creatures are nothing more than puppets, directed by the will and power of their creator - typically, they are used to collect blood, so that the true vampire can feed without exposing itself to danger. Rare individuals with above-average life-force can eventually transcend this state, becoming "Ghouls," which are possessed of a savage, animal cunning, and a hunger for flesh, which their bodies use to gradually rebuild themselves. As the body - and more critically, the brain and its cognitive functions - are restored, the Ghoul is reclassified as a "Living Dead." While physically inferior to the previous types, their growing intelligence almost invariably makes them more dangerous. A Living Dead that fully regains its intelligence and memories - a process that traditionally takes a century or so to complete - is categorized as a Dead Apostle, and can begin growing in power according to its own will and abilities.

"The most powerful Dead Apostles are referred to as the Dead Apostle Ancestors," Archer goes on. "There's twenty-seven of them in total, and their powers can be pretty diverse - not to mention bizarre. Actually, some of the current Ancestors aren't even Dead Apostles, just ridiculously powerful things that happen to drink blood. One's a giant white dog that can kill anything human, another's a sapient vampiric forest, and there's even a giant extraterrestrial doom spider in the batch."

"An alien?" you exclaim.

"Yeah. From Mercury, if you can believe that." He shakes his head. "The one thing all the Ancestors have in common is that they're walking catastrophes, easily able to wipe out small cities if they feel like it."

Archer adds a little more about True Ancestors - and his use of the term "Shinso" has your ears perking up, at least until he mentions that they were vaguely human-like nature spirits created by a super-vampire that came from the Moon.

Vampires. From the MOON.

"I'm... pretty sure that didn't happen in this world, Archer," you say.

"But you still have vampires?"

"Yeah. Several kinds actually."

You proceed to catch him up on the differences between demonic vampires and the living variety.

"Okay," the Heroic Spirit muses, a few minutes later. "So in short, you're allied with a family that are closer to being True Ancestors than anything else, with one member who might as well be the White Princess in terms of reputation."

You have no idea who the White Princess is, and say so.

"The last living True Ancestor in the timelines I'm familiar with," Archer sums up.

You suppose that works.

You inquire if Archer has any information about the four currently-active Servants he'd be willing to share: where they're likely to be; what their personalities are like; the kind of abilities they have; if they're likely to listen to claims of the Grail being corrupted and dangerous; and of course, any exploitable weaknesses they might possess.

"I already gave you everything I know about Gilgamesh and Medusa," Archer reminds you. "And I'm afraid I can't help you much with Ramesses or Dracula, as I've never encountered either of them, and I don't know much about their legends. At least, not much that I'd guarantee was truth, rather than fiction," he adds.

Considering that you could name half a dozen different takes on Dracula without even trying hard, you can't blame Archer for that statement. And the rest of his statement makes you think back to the pages of information you took down - and later transcribed a copy of for the Shuzens - which already held the answers to several questions you were thinking about asking.

"Alright, but can you think of any entities that might try to interfere during the War that you didn't already mention?"

Archer considers the question, but finally shakes his head. "None that come to mind."

"Okay." You glance at Lu-sensei, wordlessly inquiring if there's anything he'd like to add.

Your master shakes his head.

Is there anything else you want to ask Archer, while he's here?

"Well, since we've confirmed that there are unexpected Servants wandering around... do you have any advice on how to fight Servants in general? Or at least how to survive encountering them?"

"Don't," Archer replies succinctly. "Don't encounter them, DEFINITELY don't try to fight them, don't even go NEAR Fuyuki, unless you've got at LEAST one Servant on your side to keep you safe. I only know of a handful of human beings that could take on a Servant under their own power and not get killed instantly, and they were all AT LEAST twice your age. And most of them were women to boot. Scary, scary women..."

You feel a sudden sense of kinship with Archer.

"On that note... how do you feel about sticking around?"

"What, like this?" Archer shakes his head. "Wouldn't do you any good, Sorcerer. However you managed to summon me, I'm at a fraction of the strength I'd have as a properly-summoned Servant. Even in a fight against an opponent who I had all the other advantages against, I'd likely still lose just because of the sheer difference in power."

Huh. Well, that sucks. On the other hand, it'll probably make Ambrose feel better - you didn't ACTUALLY summon a Heroic Spirit after all, just a much-weaker version of one.

"And before you get any bright ideas about trying to summon me by the method used in the Grail War," Archer continues, "you should know that it takes a HUGE amount of power to sustain a Servant. Normally, the Grail takes up the load, but it doesn't start supporting Servants until several months before the Fifth War. I know of two people who managed to maintain their Servants without the GRail's help, one a magical prodigy, the other a powerhouse, and it took a huge toll on both of them. Granted, their Servants were both kind of ridiculous, but the point stands - it's not a good idea."

Okay, that just sucks.

"Would you have any objection to me summoning you again to talk to the wizard I mentioned?" you venture. "He said he'd be stopping by at some point."

Archer shrugs. "I have no objection to that." Then he frowns. "As long as it's not Zelretch...?"

"No, it's not," you say slowly. "But you know, that's the second time I've heard that name recently, and the last time, it was shouted down as soon as it was suggested."

"Yeah, he gets that reaction from anybody who knows him. And a lot of people who only know OF him."

You nod slowly, then shake your head. "Well, that covers just about everything I had to say in regards to the Grail War. But on an unrelated note, the gift I made with your help was well-received."

Archer smirks. "Glad to hear it."

"I was wondering: would you mind if I summoned you for further training?"

The spirit frowns, more thoughtful than disapproving - at least, you hope so.

"I've never actually tried teaching anybody before," Archer admits. "Though if Fuji-nee managed it... well, that aside, it brings us back to the question I asked last time: what's in it for me?"

Ah. Yes. That.

Your options for "paying" Archer, as it were, haven't really changed since you last summoned him. In fact, since you've confirmed that this world isn't one of the timelines he was concerned with, and thus holds relatively little interest for him, your options have been decreased.

The only thing that really comes to mind as a practical method of "paying" Archer for his services is to offer to give him what amounts to vacation time - a chance to relax and get away from... whatever it is that Heroic Spirits usually do. From the way he talked last time, Archer sounds like he spends a LOT of time fighting, and could use a break from it.

However, this option occured to you when you first summoned the red-coated spirit, and you dismissed it then for reasons that still apply.

Archer is a celestial warrior of some power, and not the sort of being you can just call up and let run loose doing whatever he likes - not without consequences, anyway. You were and remain uncertain of your chances of being able to successfully lay a Geas or similar compulsion upon Archer to restrict his behavior to "vacation standards," or what impact such a course of action would have on your working relationship with the guy. And while you do know him better now than you did before, you STILL don't know him all that WELL - certainly not well enough to say what he'll do, out in the world and on his own.

Not to mention that you were, and still are, concerned about what Lu-sensei would do if you simply turned Archer loose to do as he pleases.

This is on top of the fact that you've summoned Archer twice, now, and both times, he's said nothing about wanting to visit the mortal world for recreational purposes, even briefly, even though it's easily and obviously within your power to arrange. You're unsure if that means he's just not interested in taking a break from his job, if he feels his duties take priority, or if there's something else going on.

Another idea comes to mind.

"You weren't interested in me casting spells for you last time," you say slowly.

"And I still aren't," Archer notes.

"-but what about magic items?"

"I'm pretty good as far as those go - and no offense, Sorcerer, but I don't think you're up to producing anything that'd be genuinely useful in my line of work."

Fair point. A full-blown Heroic Spirit is the kind of Power that could take on a demon lord with fair chance of victory. Your crafting abilities aren't in that league yet - not by a longshot.

"I guess we're done, then," you say.

Archer nods. "Until next time."

And once again, he's gone.

Well, what now?

You regard the empty summoning circle, the lines and curves and glyphs of pure magical energy glowing softly but steadily, and consider dismissing it.

But then you think, why waste it? There's another summoning-related matter you could attend to.

"Lu-sensei," you say, "would you mind if I called up the Postman, and asked him about carrying letters to the Shuzens and the others?"

"I still have some time I can spare you," your teacher replies. "Go ahead."

Nodding, you begin building up magical energy for a ritual.

As the mana builds, drawing from your excess reserves and from the environment in roughly equal measure, you notice that you're not pulling up as much power from your surroundings as quickly as you did when calling Archer. The difference is minor, but it's there. Evidently, there's a limit to how much mana you can take in from a given area over a set span of time.

You never really thought about it before, but it makes sense. Despite the impression your memories of the Triforce might give, magical energy is no more infinite than any other sort, nor is it static. Even when no one is using it, the power flows and changes, building up and fading away in accordance with the cycles of nature and the movements of the heavens. And when it IS being used, there are limits to how much CAN be used - limits of personal skill, limits of local availability, limits of recovery, and more besides.

It's largely due to your own ridiculous reserves that you hadn't noticed until now - and it's probably the fact that you're performing a series of what are (for you) fairly advanced rituals in the same space in a fairly short amount of time that's alerted you to this detail now.

Something to keep in mind for the future, then.

Gained Arcanology C
Gained Feng Shui F (Plus)

Your train of thought jumps tracks as you complete the ritual.

There is a burst of smoke and light, and-

"Sweet Farore! Where the heck am I now?"

-the Postman has arrived. He's currently gawking around at the glass surfaces of your chamber.

Have you... really never summoned him in here before?

Thinking back... no, you haven't. Sorting out your invitation to Kahlua's aside, you haven't written to your penpals all that often, and you've always called up the Postman at Lu-sensei's.

Huh.

What do you do about the Postman's reaction to your spellcasting chamber?

You allow the Postman some time to deal with his surprise at being summoned into a room made of mirrors. It IS a bit strange, to see images of yourself reflecting off one another into infinity in all directions.

"I feel like I've walked into one of the Temple trials," the Postman murmurs, with a brief shudder.

...huh. Looking around, you can see why he'd get that impression. It DOES a feel a bit like one of those domes from Navi's Silent Realm in here. Not in the metaphysical sense, but the eerie calm, the strange architecture (such as it is), the lack of normal non-threatening life...

...aaaand now you're imagining your reflections coming to life and trying to kill you again.

Thanks, Postman. Really.

Suddenly devoid of any urge to show off, you simply say, "You're not in a Temple, Postman. This is a dimensional chamber I use to keep my spellcasting a secret."

"Oh, that's a relief. For a second there... well, never mind." The celestial straightens up and adjusts his cap. "At your service once again, Mr. Harris. What'll it be today? More letters for your friends?"

"Not yet, though I am working on another batch. I called you up to see if you'd be willing to carry letters for some acquaintances of mine who have a need for secure, reliable, speedy communication."

"Secure, reliable, and speedy are my three middle names!" the Postman boasts. "Who are the clients?"

"Lu-sensei, here."

The Postman tips his hat. "Sir."

Your teacher nods.

"Merle Ambrose, wizard."

"Never heard of him!"

Well, that's a change. "He has dealings with the local fairies, if that helps."

"It should, it should. As long as they aren't from Winter - unpleasant folks." The spirit shakes his head. "Anyhow, who else is on the mailing list?"

"Arisawa Akkiko, priestess."

The Postman blinks. "Any relation to the young lady you've been writing to?"

"Her mother," you confirm. "And Issa and Gyokuro Shuzen, and Akasha Bloodriver."

The interplanar mail-carrier's face twitches.

"Uh... 'Shuzen.' That... wouldn't happen to be the same Shuzen as the OTHER young lady you've been writing to, would it?"

"Her parents," you say.

"...vampires. Farore, why does it have to be vampires...?"

"Sensei and I are working with them to stave off a potential apocalypse that the Goddesses know about," you explain. "The Shuzens don't want this world to end any more than we do: they live here; they have family and friends here; their kids are here, for Farore's sake."

The Postman winces at that, and nods. "Point. And you mentioned the Goddesses...?"

"I performed the divination myself," you reply. "Din, Nayru, and Farore all responded."

"I can confirm that," Briar adds.

The celestial exhales sharply. "Well, then. That's a whole different kettle of fish, now isn't it?"

"In this kind of situation, even a monster could be considered one of the good guys," you answer. "As long as it was backing the side that wants to keep the world turning. And hey. By helping us, that'd make you one of the heroes who saved a world from disaster."

Someone glimmers in the Postman's eyes. "...a hero...?"

You give him a moment to consider that.

"I do like the sound of that," he admits, standing a little straighter. Is it your imagination, or is his aura shining just a bit brighter than a moment ago? "Still," the Postman goes on, "that's in the future. Until then, I'll have to insist on some form of payment for services rendered." He shrugs sheepishly. "Protocol."

"I'll mention it in my next letter to Kahlua, to pass on to her folks," you say. "I'm pretty sure they'll be willing to pay a fair price."

"That depends on the price," Lu-sensei notes.

"I've done some checking on local rates since you first summoned me," the Postman puts in. "From what I can tell, one silver coin per letter ought to be about the current going rate."

"That shouldn't be a problem," you tell the Postman. "When I suggested to the Shuzens that we have you carry our correspondence, I mentioned that you were willing to accept gold. They seemed okay with that."

"Oh. Well, yes, gold is fine, too. Let me just..."

The Postman reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a notebook large enough to fit comfortably in one of his hands - and thus entirely TOO big to fit into the tiny pockets of his, er, close-fitting uniform.

Truly, Hyrulean dimensional pockets are an amazing thing.

"...look up the exchange rates," the Postman mutters, as he begins flipping through the book.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually, the Postman gives you a price to pass on to the Shuzens. Given the value of gold, it would be utterly ridiculous to charge per letter - the Shuzens would have to pay him in quantities of less than a tenth of an ounce - so he quotes a fixed rate for a full year's service. This includes the cost of providing a means for non-magically-inclined individuals to summon him.

You make a note of the price.

There's not much else to be done regarding this matter until you have the Shuzen's input on the payment. You're about to thank the Postman for his time and dismiss him, when it occurs to you to ask him about any progress on the Hylian end of your contact with the Church of Hyrule.

"I haven't heard anything, and they haven't called me back yet." The Postman frowns. "Which is odd, honestly. The Church is usually very prompt about getting things done when one of the Goddesses makes her interest known."

"Do you think you could ask around for information about the cause of the delay?" you ask the Postman.

"I can catch up with the gossip at the ambrosia cooler easily enough," the celestial agrees readily. "But that's just rumors. Whatever I hear might not be accurate, or even true at all. And we don't have grounds for any kind of formal inquiry - there's no rule against people NOT sending letters, just against sending dangerous or threatening contents, accepting and opening mail that isn't yours, and that kind of thing."

"I'm thinking about praying for guidance on the matter as well," you admit. "Come at the problem from both ends, as it were."

The Postman nods. "Well, then. I believe that's everything. Unless you have any more questions? Offers?"

"Oh! Yes, there is one other thing. I made some new acquaintances who I was planning to start writing to, but from what I understand, they live near the South Pole. Is that going to be an issue?"

The Postman frowns. "I may have to charge you the winter rates for deliveries to that part of the world."

"How about a spell to keep you warm?" you offer in return.

"SOLD!"

Heh. If you somehow ever forgot, little incidents like this would soon remind you why you love being a sorcerer. Magic is just so... convenient.

"Alright. I don't have that letter written yet, but I'll add it to my next round of deliveries."

You can probably finish up those letters this afternoon and this evening.

The Postman nods. "I'll see you then. Take care, all!"

And poof, he's gone.

You consider using the summoning circle to call up another celestial, ideally one with the capabilty to teach the mental arts AND the morality to not immediately try to read your mind. Unfortunately, you can't think of any such creatures native to Hyrule short of the Sages themselves, and you're not entirely comfortable with the idea of trying to summon one of THEM. Maybe in a few more months, when your Gerudo-like features have faded enough so that you don't look so much like a young Ganondorf.

Sending out a "general" magical summons for a more local tutor in the mind arts is still an option, but lacking the kind of rapport that a shared connection to Hyrule and the Golden Goddesses provides, your dealings with non-Hyrulean celestial spirits are more likely to follow the pattern established by your interactions with Archer. And as your latest attempt to broker a deal with the Heroic Spirit demonstrated, you currently don't have a whole lot to offer in the way of compensation.

You suppose you COULD offer your services for some task in this world, proportionate to the expense and difficulty of teaching you, but such a service is likely to be rather more significant than the one you were originally going to provide Archer.

Feeling that you're done with summoning for the day, you cast one final spell, to erase the circle of magical energy.

As you gather power for this last act of magic, you carefully observe the chamber around you with your magical senses, trying to figure out how your in-gathering of mana affects the environment. Unfortunately, after the batch of ritual-style spells you've previously cast in here, the ambient energy appears to have been considerably diminished. What's left reacts sluggishly to your will, and you end up having to expend some of your internal mana to get the spell to work - about half its usual cost.

That's definitely a new feeling. You're not sure if the lack of mana is the result of the number of spells you cast, the scale of them, or the fact that you've been working magic in an enclosed, other-dimensional environment, rather than in the "real world."

More experimentation seems to be in order - but later, later.

For now, you have letters to write.

When you, Lu-sensei, and Briar come up from the basement, it's still raining steadily outside. Despite this - and concerns from your mother, who invites him to stay for lunch - Lu-sensei retrieves his sedge hat from the hangar.

"I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Harris, but I'm afraid I have business that won't wait. And a little rain won't melt me."

"Well, if you're sure..."

A round of polite farewells ensues, and then your teacher is off.

You spend the remaining time before lunch playing with Zelda, but after you've eaten, you retreat to your room and begin writing.

It doesn't take you too long to finish your letter to Kasumi. The letter to the Southern Water Tribe, on the other hand, takes most of three hours - you're speaking to Sokka, Katara, and their parents, so you basically end up writing three separate letters and trying to combine them so that they sound... right. Next up is Kagome, followed by Tatsuki, and then - whoops, time for dinner.

"Hey, Alex," your father greets you, as you come downstairs. "Working hard, or hardly working?"

"...a bit of both, probably," you admit. "Letters to friends."

He nods. "So, your mom tells me your teacher stopped by this morning. In the rain, no less." He raises a brow, inquisitvely. "Is there something we need to know?"

After dinner, you return to your room and your writing. As you work through a letter to Altria, you wonder if you should include a letter to Beryl while you're getting in touch with your friends.

Your parents look puzzled by your words.

"Then... why did you need your teacher?" your mother asks.

"This 'postman' of yours, Alex," your father inquires. "Is he the sort that needs... convincing?"

He flexes his knuckles as he speaks. Why would... oh.

OH.

You... you hadn't even considered how it might look, saying that you brought a martial arts master over to "negotiate" with someone. Um, wow. Time for damage control.

"Nothing like that, Dad," you explain quickly. "The Postman and I have an exchange of services going on: he carries letters for me; I cast some spells on him that let him avoid notice by the local bad guys. But Lu-sensei and I met some people at Kahlua's party that we'd both like to keep in touch with, so I had to work out a new deal to pay for those letters."

"And what are you paying?"

"I'm just casting another spell, on top of the other ones - two of the kids I want to write to live somewhere pretty cold, and the Postman's outfit... well, it's basically a track suit. Shorts, no sleeves, that kind of thing."

Your parents wince.

"Definitely not winter weather gear," your father mutters.

"Yeah. As for Lu-sensei and the folks he'll be writing to, I've got the Postman's current going rate to pass along to them. Where it goes from there is up to them, but Lu-sensei didn't seem to think the price was excessive."

This appears to satisfy your parents.

There's no real reason NOT to write to Beryl, or at least none that comes to mind. True, you don't have the kind of rapport going on with her that you share with Kahlua, Altria, or Kagome, but at the very least, you could pass on the news of your recent, mostly-successful purification. And maybe mention some of the developments regarding the familiar ritual? Not the details, just that you've made progress in securing a site...

You finish letters to Altria, Beryl, Ichigo, and Kahlua, and you're just putting the final touches on your first letter to Dave Stutler when your mother takes Zelda to bed. You quietly close your door, and write your letter to Emiko - hoping as you do so that she won't faint when it arrives.

Gained Penmanship D (Plus)

Before you call it a night, you take a few minutes to conduct a thorough scan of Briar's dollhouse with all your mystical senses. It's your hope that intensive examination will reveal the secrets of the scaled-down home's construction, improving your knowledge of how magical items are crafted.

Maybe it's the hour, or maybe it's the construction of the house - which hasn't pinged your passive senses even once since you first laid eyes on it, strongly implying that steps were taken to hide the magical signature of its interior workings - but you don't learn nearly as much as you'd hoped. Even under a persistent active scan, the house's magical aura is very faint and vague. Probing it with ki and your nascent mental powers reveals nothing at all, and when you try to extend your spiritual awareness through the walls-

"Ow."

-it's rather like trying to walk through a wall, headfirst, without using magic.

So Briar's place is warded against spiritual intrusions, on top of everything else?

Sheesh, the Shuzens REALLY didn't skimp on this thing.

Rubbing your head, you say goodnight to Briar, and go to sleep.

You attend to your mail the next morning, right after breakfast. The Postman is called up, your promised array of spells is cast, the letters are accepted, and he then joins you in slipping out of your Mirror Hideaway and heading upstairs.

As it happens, the Postman doesn't care for the sensation of passing through your private portal to the Mirror Plane any more than anyone else you know who's experienced the sensation. He's requested not to be summoned "in there" again, at least not where deliveries are involved.

After politely tipping his hat to your startled mother, and giving you a Look when you introduce your sister as Zelda and your dog as Moblin, the Postman fades from normal sight and steps outside.

"He wath nithe," Zelda says. "Thilly-looking, but nithe."

Normally, your mother would say something to Zelda about not being rude to people. However, she appears to share her daughter's opinion.

You can't really argue with it, either.

Anyway, that's your mail sorted out for now. Mentally checking off another item on your List of Things To Do, you review the various plans and promises you have in the works, and come across something that really does need to be dealt with sooner, rather than later.

You owe some gods a "thank you."

Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't be the case. Invoking divine guidance in the manner you did at the Shuzens' is something of a package deal, with offers made and proper gratitude expressed as part-and-parcel of the extended ritual.

But those weren't ordinary circumstances. Although you're favored by Din (mostly) and her sisters (to a slightly lesser extent), you're still not quite a PROPER follower. And leaving aside the matter of those holy books you've been trying to get ahold of, showing up in response to your prayer was basically the Goddesses doing you a favor.

That it put them into conflict with OTHER Powers in the process just makes that favor more significant.

And THEN there's Lord Raiden's involvement.

So, yeah. Some formal recognition and gratitude for the gods who had your back is definitely in order. Especially since you'd like them to KEEP watching over you, both in the specific matter of dealing with the Grail War and just in general.

The Postman raises a finger to object, then sighs and lowers his hand.

"Okay, fair enough. But only genuine life-and-death emergencies, not stuff like 'I forgot to send a birthday card' or 'I'm late paying my taxes.'"

Those conditions seem perfectly fine to you. After all, you don't pay taxes, and you'd certainly never forget a friend's birthday.

Right?

"Briar," you announce, "we're going questing."

"Going to finish up collecting reagents for the eclipse?" she guesses.

"That's a possibility, but at the moment, I was more concerned with getting some offerings for the Goddesses and Lord Raiden. You know, as a 'thanks for having my back,' after what happened at the Shuzens'."

"That's not a bad idea," Briar admits. "Although it begs the question: what are we going questing FOR?"

You're torn between two notions. You say as much to Briar.

"And those are?"

"Well, a part of me wants to hunt down strong evil monsters and kick their butts," you admit. "All four deities would approve of that, right?"

"...I can't speak for Lord Raiden, but Din would certainly approve. Nayru and Farore would have... reservations."

"This is about my age again, isn't it?" You shake your head. "Man, how did Link ever get anywhere...?"

"Mainly because any time the Hero was fighting as a kid, Evil had pretty much come up and knocked on his front door - or kicked it down - and the fate of the world, or at least some significant part of it, was at stake. That's... not really the case here."

Okay, that's a fair point.

"What was your other idea?" Briar asks.

"Oh, uh... I was thinking about finding people or places that the Goddesses and Lord Raiden would value, but which were in some kind of danger, and then helping them deal with it." You sigh. "But that kind of runs into the 'underage hero' problem too, doesn't it?"

"That depends on the 'danger,'" Briar replies thoughtfully. "If it's monsters or demons or big bad wizards, yeah, they'd probably be against it, but if it's something like... oh, a down-on-its-luck temple in serious need of restoration? Or a person with a special destiny who's taken ill? That's the sort of thing you could handle."

Hmmm.

Having given the matter due consideration, you can't see any upside to upsetting half of the deities you're trying to show gratitude towards. With some disappointed grumbling from your more martially-inclined side, you table the idea of monster-hunting for the time being, and turn your attention to the more child-friendly alternative.

Briar appears pleased by this decision.

Of course, this leaves the matter of actually FINDING people and places in need of your assistance.

You could probably turn up a couple of qualifying candidates just by walking around Sunnydale and (carefully) asking questions, but you're in no hurry to reveal your powers while on the Hellmouth. After all, doing so would probably put you in danger, and THAT would upset the deities. Though you suppose you could always forego the magic and just use your hands...

If you're not going to do good deeds in Sunnydale, you'll have to look elsewhere. One of the nearer towns, like Oxnard, or maybe L.A. proper - or maybe NOT L.A., given the ruckus that erupted the last time you passed through. And if you're clear of the Hellmouth, and careful, you could use magic to help you find situations where your talents would be applicable. Or you could just leave it up to random chance and divine providence.

It occurs to you that Raiden is a Japanese god, and you are on speaking terms with the residents of three separate Japanese shrines. They'd be the experts on what would please the God of Thunder and Lightning, and it's within your abilities to pop over and ask their advice on the matter. And while you're there, you could, perhaps, get some pointers on people or places that your own goddesses would like, who could use a helping hand.

Given that you haven't been to the Arisawa Shrine - despite knowing a fair bit of its history - and don't have an image of it to work with, teleporting to Tatsuki's place is off the table. Which, upon reflection, is okay. You literally JUST sent her a letter, and things might get a bit weird if you were to pop up on the very same day as it arrived.

Also, you're set to trade Akkiko some magic scrolls, and she might misinterpret your arrival.

Likewise, visiting the Higurashi Shrine is probably better left for later - or maybe a time when Kagome will be at school. They ARE on a different academic schedule over there, right?

For those reasons - as well as the fact that they did you a service when you were there, even if it was on the Shuzens' behalf - you're leaning towards visiting the Hakuba Shrine. At least as a start.

You let Briar know of your thoughts.

"I can see that working," she agrees. "One thing, though. What time is it in Japan right now?"

"They're something like sixteen hours ahead of us," you reply, thinking back to your plane-trips.

"So if it's eight o'clock here, it'd be... midnight, there?"

"...yeah."

You probably shouldn't go over there just yet.

You don't want to turn up at the Hakuba Shrine so early as to appear rude, but you also don't want to leave your trip so long that you're wandering around Sunnydale after dark. So, given that the sun sets around eight o'clock at this time of year, and factoring in a grace period - just in case anything comes up while you're overseas - of, say, two hours?

Yeah, leaving for Tokyo at six in the evening, local time, would drop you at the shrine around ten in the morning, Tokyo time. That ought to do nicely.

You head back down to the basement for some extended ritual magic, gradually augmenting your mental capabilities with a series of long-lasting Augmentations and Enchantments. As you do so, you note that the ambient mana in the chamber is once again diminishing steadily as you draw upon it to cast more and more powerful spells. It turns out not to be enough to thwart your planned set of mental boosters, although when it comes time for the modified Spell to Hide Dweomer that will conceal the auras of the various spells - at least from casual inspection - you have to resort to dipping into your own reserves.

It's fine, though; even modified to affect multiple spell-auras at once, that's just a second-tier spell. Easily affordable, and well worth the cost even if it was twice the price.

All of that done, you exit your Mirror Hideaway and - after making apologies to Zelda - withdraw to your room for some reading.

The Teachings of Grandmaster Wen await.

...

As you page through the book, you begin to see where Lu-sensei got his sometimes-questionable sense of humor. Lines like, "I was not born yesterday," are sprinkled liberally throughout the text, worded so that they READ like tidbits of philosophical wisdom handed down by a wise old master, and yet don't fail to stir a faint, nagging suspicion that the original speaker was having a joke at everybody else's expense.

On the other hand, the purely technical elements make a lot of sense. Most of it's nothing you hadn't already learned in class or puzzled out for yourself, but the way it's written down here strikes a chord with you, and makes it easier to follow what you DO know into the sections that you DON'T.

Gained Ki Armor E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Concealment C
Gained Ki Shot E
Gained Ki Step E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Ki) E (Plus)
Gained Scholar's Soul D (Plus) (Plus)

All in all, the two hours it takes you to finish the book feel like time well spent. You're seriously considering asking Lu-sensei if he has any more books like this squirreled away in his dojo - particularly if there's anything to do with the spiritual side of the School of Five Elements. This volume only made a few passing references to such matters.

Checking the clock, you see that you still have an hour and change until lunchtime.

For the third time today, you head for your Mirror Hideaway. Taking stock of the mana levels inside, you're mildly dismayed to see that there's barely enough accumulated energy to power a simple first-circle ritual.

Shrugging, you reach into your pocket, pull out the Conjured Book, and - in an act which reminds you of the first time you called up Archer - cast the Spell of Page-Bound Epiphany. This time, instead of information on Fuyuki, Japan, the blank pages fill with information about traditional Japanese crafts, with an emphasis on the proper restoration of items produced by them.

Gained Knowledge (Crafts) E (D traditional Japanese crafts)

As the magically-gathered information settles into your mind, the spell lapses, and the words filling the book in your hands fade away.

You close the book and tuck it away, feeling prepared for your chosen task.

Is there anything you'd like to get done this afternoon?

You pass the time remaining until lunch by taking Briar up on her earlier offer to show you her perspective of your spar with Kahlua. There isn't enough ambient mana left in your Mirror Hideaway for you to cast the Spell of Shared Memory in the ritual style, but that's fine by you; it's only a second-tier spell, and even increasing the duration so that it covers the entire fight only bumps it up to the third circle.

Briar's recollection of the fight proves extremely interesting. The magical auras you see and sense are honestly the least of it; experiencing the world from the point-of-view of someone who's only a couple of inches tall and has wings besides is remarkably different from what you're used to. Even your brief forays into size-changing magic don't fully prepare you for what a genuine fairy feels, particularly not in the middle of a crowd of monsters, with two strong supernatural auras going at it hammer-and-tongs at high speed. The shockwaves of the noise alone are like thunder.

How does Briar stand that kind of thing?

"I dunno," she says with a shrug, when you question her. "How do you stand weighing dozens of pounds?"

"...so it's basically just what you're used to?"

"Pretty much."

Well, that kind of sucks.

The good news is that even through the disorientation and the fact that Briar can only accurately perceive the magical side of things, you catch glimpses of how your unleashed Power behaves. Enough, at least, to see where you could shore up techniques that utilize it - and even some that don't.

Gained Mana Burst F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Maximum Power D (Plus)
Gained Power Burst F (Plus)
Gained Power Fist E
Gained Power Sense E (Plus)

After lunch, you take advantage of Briar's usual nap time to head off to Lu-sensei's, intent on asking if he has any more books he'd be willing to loan you. When you arrive, however, you find your master is in the middle of a class, leaving no real time to talk - and you told your mother you wouldn't be out too long this time, in the hope that she might object a bit less to you leaving the house after dinner.

The rest of the afternoon, you spend playing with Zelda and Moblin. Then comes supper, and then, your planned departure time.

How do you want to handle your folks?

You decide to keep your copy of the Fifth Element safely stowed away, until you can return it directly to your teacher. No sense taking chances.

Making a quick, silent gesture of "no problem, talk later" - which Lu-sensei replies to with a simple nod of acknowledgement - you excuse yourself from the dojo.

Rather than make a production of your departure, you head for the front door.

"That you, Alex?" your father calls from the living room.

"Yeah, Dad," you call back, as you slide your shoes on. "I've got an errand I want to run. Might take a bit, but I'll be back before dark."

"Alright. See you then."

Huh. That was easy. You'd half expected... well, you're not really sure what kind of reaction you expected, except that it wasn't this casual acceptance.

Shrugging, you finish tying your laces and head out.

There isn't a lot of traffic on the streets of Sunnydale's residential districts at this hour. Everybody's either having dinner at home, or taking advantage of the time of year to eat out in safety - whether they know about the supernatural or not.

On the one hand, the lack of pedestrians and motorists is a good thing, since there are that many fewer people to see you.

On the other hand, you stick out. Even more so than usual. If someone does happen to go past, or look out their window as you're going by... well.

How will this affect your travel plans?

Also, where are you going to teleport from today?

If you were any other ki adept, the potential for being seen while using your techniques in public would be too risky, at least within city limits.

Fortunately, you're not any other ki adept. You can go ahead and Body Flicker all you want, since no one will be able to see you through a Spell of Invisibility.

Once again, being a sorcerer is awesome.

You're careful to make sure nobody's around, let alone looking in your direction, before you make with the magic. As an added precaution, you use your familiarity with the neighborhood to pick out a spot where you'll be even less likely to be seen - in this case, a side-street too broad to be considered an alley, but too narrow and cluttered for more than a single vehicle to pass, and then only if driven cautiously.

Sunnydale has a lot of places like that, where people can just... slip out of sight.

You try not to shiver at the implications, and focus instead on casting your chosen spell.

"Briar," you say, mid-way through the spell. "You're going to want to hang on tight."

Briar sighs, but takes her usual spot on your shoulder.

The mana of your spell washes over you, causing your arms to first blur before your eyes, then fade, and then vanish entirely.

Once that's done, you step back out of the side-street, focusing on your ki.

And then, with the surging speed of a Body Flicker, you're gone.

You head north, reasoning that since you haven't done any magic in that direction yet, it's a little less likely to be observed than your usual magic-making site to the west, let alone the family cabin - which you know was being staked out - or the spot in the hills you visited just yesterday.

You clear the city limits in what feels like no time at all, and go a little farther than that before letting your Body Flicker lapse. It's occurred to you that, since you've got both time and privacy to work with, you might as well get in some practice with the Ki Overload technique Lu-sensei showed you before you left Japan.

As you did then, you start with Ki Enhancement, and then let extra energy seep into the mental framework of the technique. Then you push even more power in.

"Glowing again, Alex," Briar notes idly.

"What, even through the invisibility?"

"Yeah. It's like what happens when you cast a Spell of Invisibility on yourself and then cast a Spell of Light. The SOURCE of the light is hidden, but the light itself is still there."

"So... kind of a vague glowing area?"

"Uh-huh. Good thing the sun hasn't gone down yet."

You make a noise of agreement, while working to adjust your output. Briar lets you know when the glow fades, and this time around, you manage to avoid blowing her off your shoulder with a sudden wave of force.

Gained Ki Overload F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Perhaps twenty minutes after leaving the house, you come to a halt. You've spent about a quarter of your maximum ki, and you don't want to run too low when you still have a period of work and the return trip home to worry about. Looking around, you find yourself in a grassier, more thickly-wooded set of hills than the ones that lie south of Sunnydale. The air lacks the salt tang of the sea, and if you focus, you can sense that the taint of the Hellmouth is lighter as well.

You're still invisible at the moment, having renewed your spell when it began to lapse. There's no real reason why you couldn't cast your Spell of Teleportation right here, save of course that anybody who happened to come along the road might notice it. Not really thrilled with that possibility, you turn sharply to your right and walk away from the road, minding your steps as you pass the treeline. When you're just out of sight of the pavement, you stop and look around.

The trees around you don't seem terribly old, certainly not a patch on your secondhand recollections of the Lost Woods, or even the spirit-inhabited grove you visited the other day. The tallest are only about ten feet high or so, and they aren't so thickly clustered as to cut off the sun from the ground below. You see a few insects buzzing around, but nothing larger. Whether that means there are no animals around, or they're just in hiding, is anybody's guess.

Shrugging, you start gathering mana for your ritual.

One question: where are you planning to land?

Mid-way through your ritual casting of the Spell of Teleportation, your hands fade back into view, your second casting of the Spell of Illusion having run its course. That's a bit annoying, but there's nothing you can do about it now, stuck in the middle of a spell as you are.

As the magical diagram that defines the parameters of the spell fills out on the ground around you in pale white light, you adjust your intended destination so that you'll arrive at the base of the Hakuba Shrine's steps. It would be rude to simply appear inside the shrine proper, and while you're not looking forward to climbing those stairs again, the extra distance will help you avoid any unintentional interactions with the shrine's protective wards.

You don't know for certain that the Hakubas have anti-teleportation defenses over their compound, but then again, you don't know that they DON'T. Best to err on the side of caution.

You complete your ritual a minute later. The diagram below you flares with light and mana-

-flying/falling/sinking through a strange space/medium/awareness filled with familiar shapes/alien geometries and faint/loud chorus/discordance and a near/distant green energy/presence I see/hear/feel/sense you where/when are you going this time/space/probability?-

-and then you're back in Japan, again.

"GAAH!"

Aaaand somebody saw you arrive.

Whoops.

Turning, you see a man at least a decade younger than your parents, clad in a uniform - pale blue shirt, dark blue pants, heavy-looking dark vest, a small hat, and white gloves - that would immediately make you think "policeman," even without the dead giveaway of the emblem on the hat and vest.

"You- what- how- where?"

The startled officer's right hand, you note, has gone to the handgun holstered at his hip.

Oh, dear.

You put on your best smile of disarming innocence, and direct it up at the patrolman.

"Good morning, officer!"

Then you turn and head for the stairs, as if the world was exactly like it should be.

"Ah, hold on a minute, young... man."

...which it apparently isn't.

Stopping, you turn, noting as you do that while the cop still looks nervous, he has taken his hand off his sidearm.

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you here to speak with the priests?"

"Yes, I am."

"Would they happen to know you by name?"

You resist an urge to frown. What's going on here?

"We've only met the one time, but it wasn't too long ago." And the circumstances WERE rather memorable, although you don't say so aloud. "I'd hope they still remember me."

"I'll have to ask for your name before I can let you pass," the policeman says, as he reaches, not for his gun, not for the nightstick at his other hip, but for the radio hanging from a pocket of his vest.

Okay, this time you DO frown. Seriously, what is going on here?

"My name's Alex, officer," you reply, while looking from him to the Hakuba Shrine, and then back again. "May I ask if there's a problem? Has something happened at the shrine?"

"No, nothing's happened," the policeman answers, while unlatching part of his radio from his vest. It's one of those models with a receiver on a cord. "We're just providing extra security for a V.I.P. while he visits the shrine." While keeping his eye on you, he speaks into the radio. "This is Takahashi. I have a visitor at the front stairs, a boy of about twelve who claims to know the shrinekeepers."

You twitch when he gets your age wrong, but decide not to interrupt. It'd be rude.

"Name?" comes the slightly crackly response.

"Alex."

"...wait one, I'll check."

Officer Takahashi lowers his radio.

"For the record, sir," you say then, "I'm actually eight."

He gives you a disbelieving look.

Maybe you should tell him you're from America? You're not entirely comfortable with the idea, but it might help him accept the fact that you're apparently as big as his mental image of a kid half again your actul age.

The radio crackles back to life before you've more than idly entertained that idea.

"The miko said to ask him what happened to the sword last time he was here," the other officer's voice states.

"...come again, Yamamoto?" Takahashi inquires.

"Hey, that's what she said. I'm just passing it on."

Takahashi looks at you.

"If it's the sword I'm thinking of, it, uh, ended up in the ceiling."

He stares.

You cough into your fist.

Reluctantly, Takahashi passes your answer along.

"...the hell?" comes the response. A moment later, Officer Yamamoto adds, "She says to send him on up, Takahashi."

"...roger that." The cop hangs up his radio, and eyes you for a long moment. "Would a sword ending up in the ceiling be at all related to you... appearing... out of thin air?"

You consider how to respond. One of the events the policeman is referring to was of a spiritual nature, while the other was magical, and those are two distinct things. On the other hand, both incidents involved you, so they are related at least that much.

"Kind of?" you venture. "If it makes you feel any better, Officer, I was never holding the sword."

From the look on his face, saying this doesn't really help his mood.

"While that's kind of a good thing to know," he replies, "why was someone was handling a live sword around an underage individual in a manner that resulted in the weapon getting stuck in the ceiling?"

You meet the policeman's gaze squarely. "Do you REALLY want to know, Officer?"

You don't do anything as melodramatic as will your eyes to glow or relax the mental constraints you keep on your aura, much less cast a spell. Still, after staring at you in silence, the cop slowly shakes his head.

"No," he answers, a touch unsteadily. "No, I don't think that I do."

You give him a polite, wordless nod, and head up the stairs.

"...did you just intimidate a cop?" Briar wonders.

"Maybe a little," you admit. "I think it was more that my MAGIC intimidated him. Or maybe just threw off his worldview."

The fairy makes a noise of assent.

The rest of your climb up the Hakuba Shrine steps is made in silence. As you near the top, you see the miko you met the last time you were here, waiting patiently underneath the torii, with another police officer standing alongside her. Officer Yamamoto, you suppose. Close to your father's age, he's regarding you with open suspicion and no sign of the nerves Officer Takahashi had on display.

Then again, he hasn't seen you appear out of thin air.

"Hello again, young Mister Harris," the miko calls. "What brings you back to the Hakuba Shrine today?"

"I was hoping to get some advice on a spiritual matter," you answer.

"Not another purification, I hope."

"No, no, nothing like that." Clearing the last of the stairs, you spare a moment to glance around, and reach out with your senses.

The shrine doesn't feel much different from your last visit, although when you focus a bit, you pick up several human life-forces scattered about the grounds. Two or three feel like fit, disciplined, but otherwise fairly normal people - more cops, maybe? In addition to those, there are two strong but well-controlled magical auras, one of which carries the distinctive darkness of youki - though it's mixed with the gentler energies of human ki.

One of those is likely the V.I.P. Officer Takahashi mentioned in passing. The other is probably a bodyguard. As to which is which...

Letting your mind relax, you return your attention to the pair nearest to you.

You glance from the miko to the policeman, and then back to the young woman.

"Not to offend, but could we speak privately?"

The cop's frown deepens, but the miko merely nods. "Of course. If you'll follow me-"

"Is that a good idea, Miss?"

She waves off the officer's concern. "It'll be fine. We won't intrude on the other visitors."

This doesn't seem to entirely appease the man, but he doesn't make any further protests. He just keeps watching you with those dark, suspicious eyes. It strikes you as a bit odd for a policeman with a perfectly ordinary aura, one who HASN'T seen you do magic or anything else beyond the bounds of normalcy, to be so openly mistrustful. Granted, he's on a protection detail, but this feels like a bit more than a professional dislike of potential threats to his assigned V.I.P.

Maybe he just doesn't like kids. Or foreigners. Or foreign kids.

Setting your speculations aside, you follow the miko away from the gate. She's not heading to the part of the shrine you visited last time, but is instead moving towards the residential side, taking a path around to the far side of the house. There's a neatly-kept little stand of trees here, with a tiny stream that empties over a small elevation into a rock-walled pond. A couple of low benches are placed near the water, far enough back to prevent anyone sitting on them from getting their feet wet, but close enough that they could still enjoy the cool damp of the water on a hot day.

"Now, then," the miko says, taking a seat on one of the benches. "You mentioned a spiritual matter?"

You nod and, taking the other bench, explain your reason for returning to the Hakuba Shrine.

Upon hearing that you tried to talk directly to a trio of goddesses, one of the miko's eyebrows climbs for her hairline - and when you add that you SUCCEEDED in your endeavor, the other eyebrow takes off in pursuit of its partner.

Mentioning that some demonic power managed to interfere with your connection to your deities causes the poor girl to turn pale.

In contrast, when you tell her that Raiden stepped in to put a stop to that rudeness, and that you'd like to express your gratitude to the Thunder God by helping out people or places of importance to him, she just blinks. Several times, in rapid succession.

"I... see," she finally replies. "Ah... I'm not personally aware of any... individuals that meet the standards you set, but I can certainly ask around. It might take a while - the priests are occupied with our other guests at the moment, and likely will be for the rest of the day. But if you don't mind the wait...?"

"I have to be getting back in an hour or so," you answer. "But if that's not enough time, I can come back tomorrow, or a few days from now - whichever's more convenient."

"That would probably be for the best," the miko admits. "It would give me more time to find people in need of aid."

You discuss it for a bit, and finally decide to return in three days' time. When you inquire if it would be acceptable to teleport directly to a discrete part of the shrine, the miko replies that it would probably be best if you stuck to coming in through the gate. There's symbolism involved. And manners. And probably no small amount of the young lady not being familiar or completely comfortable with the idea of people popping out of mid-air unannounced, and trying to enforce some degree of normalcy and reason on an abnormal and unreasonable situation.

Fair enough. She's doing you a favor; the least you can do in return is give her some peace of mind.

As the two of you get up and leave the pond, heading back towards the front gate, you notice Officer Yamamoto is still there, still watching you. Has he been staring in your direction this whole time?

The sight stirs your curiosity, and you finally surrender and turn to the miko. "I'm sorry if I'm being nosy, but... what IS going on here, anyway?"

She doesn't QUITE laugh. "I've been wondering that myself, actually. All I know for certain is that a lady from the Vatican and a man who said he WASN'T from the Vatican wanted to consult with the priests."

So, a member of the Roman-Catholic Church is talking with Shinto priests about... something.

You're hardly an expert on Earth's religions, but based on what you know of Christianity's history, you have to wonder: is that even allowed?

If it is, it would explain the police presence, at least. Official ambassador-types are the kind of people you don't want to let anything happen to. For that matter, it can be just as bad if something happens to the UNofficial diplomats.

Well. What now?

You spare one last glance in the general direction of the life-forces of the two mysterious visitors, and then put the matter out of your head. It doesn't appear to be any of your business, and as a result, it would be rude to inquire further.

Also, it might make that Officer Yamamoto even more suspicious of you, perhaps enough to start asking questions in an official capacity. You'd just as soon avoid that.

Thanking the miko for her time, you turn and head back down the stairs. Near the bottom, you wave at the younger policeman - who returns a polite, much less visibly nervous nod - and start down the street, away from the shrine. There doesn't seem to be much traffic in this neighborhood at this time of day, which makes sense; it's a residential district, and most people should be at work or at school.

Given the lack of potential observers, you don't hesitate to cast a Spell of Invisibility, adding extra mana and altering the basic formula so that it will last longer than usual - potentially a couple of hours, though you don't expect to need it nearly that long. You then settle into the shade of a convenient tree and begin working on a Ritual of Divination, one that's more a long-range Spell of Clairvoyance than an outright Spell of Scrying.

A few minutes later, an image appears in your head of the house-slash-dojo-slash-shop where you met and did business with old man Gen, months earlier. It looks almost as quiet as the neighborhood around you, though there's more traffic on the street. Sweeping the area with your magical sensor, you're not terribly surprised to find anti-scrying wards over the complex. They're not as good as the ones Lu-sensei has on his place, but they're enough to prevent you from seeing what's going on inside. Even looking through the windows does you no good; the interior of the buildings registers to your spell as nothing more than a greyish fog.

Fair enough. You're only interested in making sure you don't land on top of someone, or worse.

Picking out an empty corner of the grounds, you begin a Ritual of Teleportation. Technically, you don't need to cast Greater Teleportation to cover such a comparatively small distance, but the guaranteed stability of the superior form of space-time travel is really too good to pass up.

Gained Summoning B (Plus)

With a burst of magic, you vanish from one neighborhood, and reappear in another. You look around to make sure no one is watching, and then let your Spell of Invisibility lapse as you stroll over to Gen's store, just one more customer.

The bell above the door rings as you enter.

"Ah, honored customer!" the familiar voice promptly calls from the back room. "Welcome, welcome to Gen's. How can I-" Halfway through the curtain of beads that separates the two sides of this floor, the old man pauses, blinking at the sight of you. "Ah, young Master Harris! And Miss Briar! Welcome back! Come to do more shopping? Or perhaps" - and here, his eyes gleam with the hope of quick and easy profit - "to trade?"

You match his smile with one of your own.

What exactly are you looking to trade for?

"Actually," you reply, "I do want to do some trading while I'm here, but I've also been thinking about a more long-term arrangement."

Gen looks intrigued. "Do tell."

You make your proposal. You're willing and able to call up spirits that Gen can negotiate the purchase of reagents from, use magic to repair damaged objects that come into his possession, provide long-term enhancement spells that would be useful to a shopkeeper for Gen himself, and examine objects to determine their properties and perhaps their history.

In exchange, you'd like Gen to provide any necessary material components for the spells you cast, as well as access to his supply of magic items (strictly for study purposes, you assure him), temporary access to his collection of books and scrolls, as well as his assistance in acquiring a steady supply of such lore in the future, and a general line of in-store credit. Not to mention complete discretion.

Gen listens to you intently, silently, and then, when you've finished, throws back his head and laughs.

"Oh, the impetuousness of youth!"

Once he stops chortling, Gen explains that is not interested in having spells cast on him, thank you very much, but the rest of your offered services are perfectly acceptable. He also has no issue with providing the reagents necessary for those spells, or with "paying" you via in-store credit - though the old man points out that the amount of credit, and how soon he can give it, will depend entirely how how much profit he earns from any acquisitions you help him make.

"And it's not just the success of the sale," Gen adds, "it's how soon I can make it. Took me almost two weeks to find a buyer for that horsehair you gave me the last time you were here. It was a good sale, but not my best. Client would have easily paid triple if I'd been able to promise a future supply of the stuff, just to secure first refusal on it."

As for the part about letting you study magic items or copy his books, well, that's where much of Gen's amusement came from.

"Whatever my other talents, young master, I am, first and foremost, a shopkeeper. Not a librarian, and certainly not one of those crazy magical researchers. I have no issue with you doing magical things to books or items of power, AFTER you've bought them and taken them off the premises." Gen pauses, and strokes his chin. "Though I will admit, being able to advertise my wares as authenticated by a genuine sorcerer WOULD make it easier to sell them to the more... discerning crowd... hmmm..."

Gen makes his counter-offer.

In exchange for calling up spirits for negotiation, examining objects, and repairing non-magical items, he's willing to provide you with reagents (up to a certain limit of value and rarity), access to his non-literary inventory for the purposes of study, maintenance, and authentication, and store credit on any future purchases you make, equalling a 25% share of the profit Gen makes on selling items you've helped him acquire.

"That offer is insultingly low!" you burst out. "Especially when I'll be doing the heavy lifting in this arrangement! Nothing less than seventy-five percent of the profits will do!"

You are, of course, only acting like you've been offended. This is just how the game is played.

"Seventy-five?!" Gen exclaims. "Will you steal the very bread from my mouth, and the mouths of my family? I could not possibly offer more than a thirty percent share!"

"You know, Mister Gen, yours is not the only magic shop that's within range of my teleportation spell," you warn.

He looks wary at that. And also a touch impressed.

"But I suppose I could afford to be generous, and accept a mere fifty percent share of the profits - if you guaranteed me a discount on the purchase of books and scrolls. Say, seventy percent off? With the understanding that I will return them undamaged, for resale?"

"It is the very rarity of these writings that makes them valuable!" Gen retorts. "I am already taking a hit by selling them second-hand; if any of my customers realized they had been copied out as well, they would barely pay me the price of the paper! Forty percent share, and no more than a twenty-five percent discount on magical writings!"

"I can easily remove my own magical signature from anything I read, you know," you confide in a normal tone.

Once more, Gen pauses, this time looking thoughtful. "Would that apply to removing extraneous auras NOT your own?"

You nod. "It's a little more difficult, but easily done."

"...fifty percent off the books, then."

Gained Haggling E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You're being offered a forty percent share in the profits, and half-off any books or scrolls you choose to buy, in exchange for adding "foreign aura removal" to your list of responsibilities in this partnership.

"As long as these auras you want to get cleaned up are just the result of regular use and carelessness," you note. "As opposed to any... unpleasantness."

"By 'unpleasantness,' you mean...?"

"Theft, blood, curses - that kind of thing."

"Ah." Gen closes his eyes and shivers. "Indeed. I try to avoid THAT particular side of the business as much as possible. Admittedly, I cannot be one hundred percent certain that I do not have a cursed object or two in storage - that's just a hazard of the trade. But deliberately dealing in stolen goods, violence, and dark magic? That never ends well for anybody."

He has NO idea.

"I think we have a deal, then," you say, extending your right hand.

Gen clasps it with his own, and the two of you shake firmly.

Gained Priority: Uncle (Gen)'s Rare Finds

"So," your new partner says, as he draws his hand back. "When can you get started?"

"Well, unless you're willing to let me take some of your goods with me when I leave-"

Gen's expression says it all.

"-then not today," you admit. "I have to be home within the hour, and I've got a fair distance to cover even after I teleport. Twenty minutes isn't really enough time to get any serious work done."

Gen nods. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Maybe," you answer slowly. "I don't have to worry about school for another couple months, but there IS a time difference to think about - I'm sixteen hours off from you."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

You momentarily consider mentioning the added hassle of having to work around your parents, but decide that would be getting too personal. New partner or no, you don't know Gen well enough to be comfortable sharing such private details.

"Sixteen hours, huh?" Gen muses. "Well, I'm normally open from eight to four, so that would be... ten in the evening to eight in the morning, where you are?"

"Sounds about right," you agree.

Thinking it over, you figure that if you're going to be working at Gen's - at least until there's enough mutual trust built up for him to be comfortable with letting you take goods out of the shop - then you're pretty much stuck coming over after dinner. There's really no other way it'll work, unless you feel like wandering around Sunnydale after dark (you don't), or Gen is willing to get up in the wee hours of the morning (and you doubt he is).

"At least for the next month and a half," you add. "Once school starts, we'll have to work something else out, so that I still have time to do my homework. Working weekends, probably."

Gen nods. "Of course, of course. Education is most important."

Although Gen is clearly hoping to see you in his shop on a daily basis, you convince him to let you ease into the work, stopping by tomorrow, and then a couple days later. Your argument is that this is your first job ever, let alone your first job involving magic, and you want to get a feel for the amount of effort involved to avoid burn-out or accidents.

The old man accepts your conditions, but adds - with a waving Finger of Emphasis - that he expects to see you early.

With nothing else on your schedule in urgent need of attention, you step out behind the shop and perform the Ritual of Teleportation, whisking yourself back to that spot in the woods north of Sunnydale. From there, you return home, once again taking the opportunity to exercise your ki along the way.

Gained Ki Overload E

Towards the end of your run back to town, you suddenly find yourself shifting from the speed of a normal Ki Enhancement to something that is noticably faster. Not as blindingly quick as Maximum Power, but there are similarities, especially in how the overloaded technique steadily eats away at your ki reserves - and also, the glowing.

Satisfied with this progress, you release your mental grip on your ki and allow your life-force to settle back to a normal level. Once you've stopped glowing, you begin a Ritual of Invisibility, which takes effect just a few strides short of the city limits.

The rest of your trip home is uneventful. You beat the sunset by fifteen, maybe twenty minutes - time enough that your parents aren't visibly concerned.

You rest well that night.

After dinner the next day, you let your mother know that you have plans, but will, again, be back before dark. She accepts this easily enough, and once again, you vanish under a Spell of Invisibility before dashing out of town. This time around, you scry out your destination before teleporting directly to the little patch of grass between Gen's store and the wall that marks the edge of the property.

No one sees you arrive.

You spend about three hours at Gen's today. For a good half of that time, you have the Spell of Identification up and running over your normal Mage Sight, as you give the entire shop and everything in it a careful surface examination. Mostly, you're looking to make sure that Gen really doesn't have any cursed or otherwise potentially hazardous items in stock that he doesn't know about.

Given the way the old man shuffles a few items with moderately potent Elemental auras off the shelves and into the back room, not to mention his downright ALARMED reaction when you point out a subtle aura of dark Necromancy emanating from an otherwise innocuous, reasonably-priced ritual dagger on one of his shelves, this was a good idea.

After the surface examination of his wares, Gen "suggests" moving down to the basement to summon a creature or two - or three or four or more - to negotiate with for material components.

Given that it will cost you about 6% of your mana each time you summon something, in order to properly ensure your safety and Gen's, and that it will take a MINIMUM of fifteen minutes to summon and deal with each creature, how many times are you willing to cast the Spell of Binding?

Seeing as how your reserves are currently full - or as close to it as they ever get, with your dimensional pocket up - you decide to go ahead and cast the Spell of Binding as many times as you can, until your mana reaches sixty percent or you run out of time.

The first entity you summon is a spirit of Light, which manifests in a form not unlike Briar's - at least as seen as a distance. When you look closer, the tiny humanoid body is not truly solid, but rather a mass of golden energy that retains a relatively constant shape.

This spirit regards you warily at first, and doesn't appear much friendlier towards Gen, but it literally brightens up when it spots Briar. The two of them spend several minutes chattering in a language you don't recognize. From Gen's puzzled expression, he doesn't know it, either. Fortunately for both of you, Briar is up to the task of making the deal in your place, and you end up receiving a tiny mote of pure Light, no bigger than the head of a pin, which is deposited into a small, sturdy bottle that Gen provides.

Your second summoning is another entity of Light. Where the first was very much like a fairy, this one takes on a form more akin to a star - and not the twinkling eight-pointed cartoon version, either, but a spherical mass of incandescent power perhaps a meter across. Its surface roils with energy that occasionally escapes as fiery plumes, some of which disperse into the air within your circle, while others double over upon themselves and plunge back into the main body. For all its resemblance to a stellar body, the spirit doesn't give off much more light than a bright lamp, so you're able to look at it more or less directly without fear for your eyes.

You, Gen, and Briar all trade glances, momentarily uncertain of HOW to speak with such a being, but then it addresses you in perfect English, asking in a youthful, curious tone how it can help you. When you broach your request, the Light-spirit says that it would be perfectly happy to accomodate you, but it doesn't really have anything it CAN give - it's made of Light in a more literal sense than the first spirit. Following several minutes of discussion about the spirit's abilities, you learn that it can cause any object it touches to permanently radiate a smokeless, heatless light that is very much like the Spell of Continual Flame. Such items are a common convenience to magic-users, but one created by a spirit of Light? That would be worth selling as a minor reagent.

The helpful star-creature notes it can use that power as often as it likes, and ends up casting the enchantment upon a small bucket of sand, over and over, until the magic has seeped into every last grain.

While it's doing that, you ask Gen WHY he had a bucket of sand just lying around.

He grins, and points out a jar of dirt on another shelf. And a box of wood-chips on the floor. And another bucket of little stones.

You stop asking at that point.

The third Light spirit you summon is of human proportions, and could pass as an extremely handsome man of Japanese ancestry, if not for the halo surrounding him or the incandescence of his white-on-white eyes. He regards you with open suspicion and even a touch of hostility, demanding in an archaic Japanese accent to know what business you, a foreign barbarian touched by the powers of the Underworld, have in binding the children of the Light to your purposes.

Gen steps in VERY quickly at that point, and following an extended period of apologetic explanations which verge on the obsequious, he seems to convince the kami that no harm or offense was meant, and that you and he are merely humble merchants, hoping to make honest deals with generous spirits.

You don't actually gain a spell component this time. On the other hand, the kami accepts Gen's defense of your character, at least enough not to smite you or do something similarly unpleasant. He also notes that he will be watching your transactions, and in the future, he might consider doing business with you himself - assuming you meet his standards.

Gained Light Affinity E (Plus) (Plus)

After THAT incident, you're tempted to focus on reaching out to that aspect of your magic that tends to call up Hyrulean creatures, if only to avoid getting any more unfriendly locals. Then again, do you want to reveal that particular secret to Gen?

Just because one local spirit found your repeated summoning of his elemental brethren suspect is no reason to stop calling creatures to deal with. It DOES strike you as a sign that you should switch elements. Just to be safe.

After some thought, you decide to end the morning's summoning by making a deal with a Water elemental, if only because you could really use the practice. Mindful of your moderately-strong Fire Affinity - and your complete LACK of a Water Affinity - you rummage through your mental spellbook, trying to recall an incantation that would make it easier for you to interact with beings of Water. One spell does eventually come to mind, and you cast a modified version, tweaking it to be a "Watery Aura" rather than a "Flaming" one, as well as adding extra mana so that it doesn't run out in the middle of your negotiations.

The spirit you summon this time is a startlingly large toad, almost as tall as you are and wearing a short Japanese-style coat. You have to take a moment to wonder if this is a result of your Earth Affinity, or just the fact that your summoning circle is set up in a dry environment, where many creatures of Water would be uncomfortable at best, if not outright asphyxiated.

Regardless of why you got a toad, you guess your Watery Aura is working, because you strike a deal with him with no real difficulty. In exchange for some incense Gen has in stock, the toad allows you to collect a jar full of poison from the glands on his back. You're careful to use the Spell of Mage Hand in the process.

Gained Water Affinity F

After sending the toad on his way, you take stock of your mana reserves and decide that you should stop summoning here. The Watery Aura didn't cost all that much - only three percent of your maximum mana - but that's enough that calling up another spirit would drop you below the limit of sixty percent you'd decided upon earlier.

Gen doesn't seem to mind your decision at all. After you've cleaned up the summoning circle and returned to the ground floor of the shop, the old merchant puts his new wares away and then turns to you.

"So, now that you've gone out of your way to uphold your end of our arrangement, it is my turn to extend the hand of trust. I can say with some certainty that the items you have obtained today will sell for the equivalent of at least two hundred American dollars, given time to find buyers. I am willing to offer you your forty-percent share up-front, as compensationg for your time, with any extra profit to be added after I make the sale. Is that acceptable to you?"

Considering the prices you've seen and paid for reagents in the past - in this very shop, even! - you have to wonder at Gen's estimate of the sale value of the goods you got for him today. You question his proposed profit margin, albeit in as good-humored a fashion as you can manage.

The now-glowing sand, for example, lends credibility to the shop just by existing. Even staunch skeptics would likely be willing to buy the stuff, if only so they could study it and try to disprove its magical provenance. And poison from a magical toad? Well, you don't know how much something like that would go for on the open market, but you can't help but feel that whomever Gen expects to sell it to is ripping him - and by extension, you - off.

"Well, there IS the cost of that incense we traded to the toad to recoup," Gen points out. "And you are not the only person with whom I do business via barter, young master. In fact, I have several regular clients who prefer to trade goods or services, rather than pay cash. But even taking all of that into account, you are right; it is very likely that the EVENTUAL profit margin for these items will be ten times what I have suggested, and perhaps even greater." He gives you a meaningful look.

"The key word being, 'eventual,'" you state.

Gen nods. "In my experience, magic-users tend not to buy in bulk. Some components, like this little treasure"- he indicates the bottled speck you got from the first Light spirit - "are too rare for such, but even with the more commonly-available reagents, I typically only sell small portions at a time. Usually once a month, and then only for any spells that the client in question actually cast in that time. I would not be at all surprised if it took me until winter to sell off all of that toad's poison, or for that bucket of sand to last half a year. But that said," Gen goes on, "in that time, I will also sell small amounts of many other reagents that I have in stock, to say nothing of the books, independent items, and the occasional emergency purchase."

That makes some sense.

Gained Business F (Plus)

A notion occurs to you of using your negotiations with summoned beings to gradually stockpile a supply of materials suitable for crafting magic items, and then to call up a spirit capable of producing such things. You float the idea past Gen, only to get interrupted by Briar.

"Binding creatures to make magic items for you in exchange for raw materials and a few spells isn't going to fly, Alex. Not even if you go the extra mile and call up a Goron. Doing you a service like carrying mail or fighting a single opponent is one thing. Takes a few minutes at most, and when it's done, it's over. Magic items, though? Once you get past scrolls and potions, they LAST. A lot of them outlast their owners. And they're SIGNIFICANT, both as investments of personal time, effort, and power, and in the impact they have on the world." Briar shakes her head. "Even the creatures that didn't outright refuse to help you would want to be PAID for their part in creating something like that. And Earth currency wouldn't cut it; we're talking precious metals, jewels, magic items, the works."

"...I suppose doing something like summoning that star-creature from before for several days, and having him enchant sand the whole time, would be the same?"

"It wouldn't be AS expensive," Briar admits. "But yeah. As cheerful as he was, even THAT spirit would probably have wanted something to make up for being taken away from his home for that long. Speaking as a being from another world? We've got lives, too."

Feeling a bit chastened, you decide to turn your attention to spending some of your in-store credit. At the moment, you're most interested in books that might help you build upon your existing skills, particularly in the realm of spiritualism and mentalism, although as you inspect the written contents of Gen's shelves, the sight of various scrolls keeps bringing your deal with Akkiko to mind.

Deciding that you should at least get started on keeping your deal with Akkiko, you spend a few minutes talking with Gen about the types of reagents necessary to produce spell-scrolls. He's got everything you need in stock: a special kind of paper that's strong enough to hold magical power without burning up, and is more resistant to mundane damage than your average sheet of looseleaf; several types of ink that are likewise capable of containing a spell in a transitional state, and which are also water-resistant; some slightly exotic writing implements; and a couple purely mystical odds and ends, for purifying the other implements of external contaminants, and keeping such things OUT while you work.

You'll want to scribe the scroll in your Mirror Hideaway, to avoid issues with the Hellmouth, but that's no great hardship.

While Gen is gathering the materials you require, you go back to the books and pick out the three volumes that most appealed to you.

"Will you be reading those here and now, or taking them with you?" Gen inquires, as he rings everything up.

Storing your new belongings away in your dimensional pocket, you bid Gen a pleasant day - and rewarding sales - and teleport back to Sunnydale. You reappear amidst the trees, and are immediately struck by the level of light. While the sun is still clearly up, it's darker here under the canopy than you were expecting.

Wanting to make sure you're home before sunset, you quickly cast an extended Spell of Invisibility, and then run all the way back to Sunnydale at Body Flicker speeds. It's a little expensive in terms of ki, but you feel it's well worth the cost.

Gained Body Flicker B (Plus)
Gained Ki Control B (Plus)

"Welcome home, Alex," your father calls from the living room, as you come back inside.

"Did you have a good evening?" your mother inquires.

Before you can respond to your parents, Zelda leans her head into the hall and asks, "What were you doing?"

You're pretty sure your parents must be wondering about that as well - at least, now that Zelda has asked the question - so you leave your shoes at the door and walk down the hall before answering.

"I was doing chores for a man named Gen," you say to the living room at large. "Lu-sensei and I met him a little while back, and it turned out he had some books that would help me with my magic. Safe books," you add, with a glance at your folks. "He's willing to let me read them, as long as I help him out a bit first."

"Can I read them?" Zelda asks eagerly.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's all in Japanese."

"Awww..."

"But, if I learn any interesting spells, I could probably show them to you..."

"Pleathe!"

Your mother looks at you over Zelda's head. "'Safe books'?" she repeats.

"I'm using my magic to make sure the books are safe BEFORE I read them," you tell your mother. "That's one of my chores, actually. Gen has a fair-sized collection that he hasn't actually read, and while he's PRETTY sure that none of it's harmful, better safe than sorry."

Your mother nods.

"You couldn't do this earlier in the day?" your father asks.

Omake: Alex, the tallest man in the NFL, flummoxes Jay Leno

"And tonight I've got a really nice treat for you folks. Playing for the San Diego Chargers, the tallest man in the NFL, Defensive Lineman Alexander Harris."
-Jay Leno

Waving his arms to the crowd with a big smile Alex walks out.

"Glory hog." Pouts Briar, jealous of the attention as usual.

"The Great Boar Spirit demands ham!"
Shouts Alex in reply before going to sit down a seat over from Jay.

Looking out into the crowd Alex sees one kid watching Briar with rapt attention, staring ar her till she notices him Alex quickly glances at Briar as if to say, I know right? And winks.

"But that's not our only guest tonight we also have Susan Harvey from the movie "The Night Watchers" one of the better child actors I've met and I've met quite a few."

Out walks a nine year old girl also smiling and waving to the crowd, you can't help seeing her strong spiritual presence, curious you check her spirit which turns out to be a very angry weasel who is not pleased to have you looking at her soul.

You politely gazes away and sees that contrary to what Leno says his spirit animal is in fact not a car. The chiwawa is however riding a car..a Citroen DS, Leno certainly has an interesting soulscape.

"Your soul has a rather rude sign on it. Though the ward seems a bit weak. The boar is impressive though, if a bit smug looking. I'm completely lost as to why you have a fairy with you. I knew you were a martial artist, but I don't typically think of fairy and martial artist in the same sentence."
-Susan

Jay Leno for his part just blinks in confusion.

Alex gives Briar a smile before talking.

"The wards old, I just never bothered to get rid of it. Your weasel isn't bad either. Think you can identify the car Jay Leno's spirit animal is riding?"
-Alex

"Red convertible, white top silver bumper, no idea."
-Susan

"Citroen DS"
-Alex

"So your a spiritualist too huh Alex?"
-Jay Leno says with an amused smile, most likely not believing any of what your saying but willing to play along.

"I'm a Kung Fu wizard football player." Alex replies with a smile making a pose no martial artist in the world would consider a proper stance. Which looks all the more horrid because of his tall frame.

"Also this is Briar." Alex says while pointing to what appears to most people an empty area of air.

"Pleased to meet you Briar,"
-Susan.

Jay Leno's smile is starting to look pretty strained.

"So few adults can see fairies, it takes a certain kind of mentality that most adults outgrow." Alex says solumnly while looking into the camera with sad eyes of pity.

Although you do have the capability to magically absorb the information contained within your newly-purchased books, you've only used that particular talent once or twice before - and then, only on single books, and not ones that were about supernatural topics. You're a little wary of trying to take in three separate volumes all at once, at least until you have a better idea of how your mind will take to the injection of information. You don't want it getting all mixed up, after all.

Besides, it's getting late (in Sunnydale), and you want to be home before dark. Preferably without a headache caused by "reading" too much in a short span of time.

"I think I'll take these ones with me," you tell Gen. "For now, at least."

"Very well. But please be sure to return them in good condition, or I will be obligated to charge you the remainder of their normal sale price."

Fair enough.

You briefly cast about for a nice, neat way to come clean with your parents about the fact that you just got back from Japan, and finally decide to go ahead and bite the bullet.

"Not really, no. A sixteen-hour time difference is kind of inconvenient that way."

Your parents stare at you.

"'Sixteen hours'?" your mother repeats.

"You were in Japan?" your father guesses.

You nod, not terribly surprised that he made the connection. He WAS the one who flew to Tokyo to pick you up after the unfortunate end to the World Tournament, and it wasn't that long ago.

"Without telling us?"

You try not to wince at that.

Gathering your resolve, you take a breath, and begin.

"Okay, in fairness, I DID tell you before now that long-range teleportation was something I could do. However," you add, "I didn't think to tell you that I was GOING to do it, which, in hindsight, I should have done."

Your voice is calm and level. You're not trying to shift the blame onto your parents, you're not making excuses, and you're definitely not going to make false apologies or whine. You're going to lay out your reasons rationally, calmly, and as maturely as your eight-going-on-eight-lifetimes mentality can manage.

"I think part of the reason why I didn't tell you is that teleportation makes getting to places a lot easier, so even though I KNEW I was on the other side of the Pacific, it didn't really FEEL like I was that far away. Honestly, it takes me less time to travel to Japan than it does to run to the family cabin."

And something like two-thirds of that time is spent just getting far enough away from town to cut down on the odds of anyone sensing your magic at work. You don't mention this aloud, however.

"As for the reason WHY I went to Japan at all... when I was there with Lu-sensei, before the tournament got cut short, we found a shop that deals in magic. It's where I picked up the books I was reading after I came home from the tournament. Not only was the owner somebody Lu-sensei was willing to let me deal with, he was also willing to give me in-store credit in exchange for casting some spells that would help him out with his business."

"What kind of spells?" your father asks suspiciously.

"Nothing immoral, illegal, or dangerous," you answer promptly. "Mainly, he wanted me to summon a creature that he could trade with, to get some kind of magical material that he wouldn't normally be able to acquire, for sale in the shop. That time around, I summoned a horse, and we gave it some apples in exchange for a few of its hairs."

Your parents blink at that.

"A pony!?" Zelda exclaims.

In the depths of your soul, Ganondorf groans. It is a sound of resigned frustration.

If you had a closer relationship with that horse - ANY kind of relationship, really, beyond "we knew each other in a past life, and I summoned you all of one time in this life" - you'd probably be more worried about this sudden activity from the Demon King, the first example of such in some time.

It helps that his reaction sounds so... defeated.

At a guess? Zelda is not the first little girl to call that particular horse a pony. Not by a longshot.

Shaking your head, you get back on track.

"Anyway, I went back to Gen's shop this time because he could supply me with books and materials to help me study magic, without the risks that would follow from doing business with anybody in Sunnydale. Plus, he was still willing to give me credit in exchange for using my magic - though this time, we added a couple more tasks, such as helping him make sure he knew EXACTLY what he had in stock."

"Alex," your mother cuts in, "are you saying that you not only went to another country without telling us, you got a part-time JOB there, as well?"

"Basically, yes."

"What does it pay?" your father inquires, sounding honestly curious.

"Tony!"

"What?"

"I get a forty percent share in any sales Gen makes of items I helped him add to the inventory, or that I've examined for him. I also get fifty percent off on books. He said the stuff I got for him today would go for at least two hundred dollars, guaranteed, but would be very likely to sell for ten times as much - or more."

Your father does a double-take at that. "You're saying you could end up making as much as eight hundred dollars as the result of just four hours' work?"

"It's in-store credit rather than cash, but... yes."

Your father turns to your mother. "I say we let him have the job."

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal, Tony."

"I won't tell anybody if you don't."

"Tony!"

"Seriously, Jess, who'd believe it if we did? And if they DID, what are the odds they'd be the sort of people our boy would be SAFE around?"

Your mother makes a complicated expression at that. She looks like she really wants to disgree with your father, but can't find an acceptable way to do so.

You wait. Although you're resolved that you'll be attending to your work in Japan - and Britain, and wherever else you need to go - with or without your parent's permission, you'd much prefer it to be WITH. Either way, you're done going behind their backs, because you DON'T want your dad wandering Sunnydale at night trying to find you, if you're late coming home in the future.

After a long moment, your mother sighs. "Fine."

Gained Wise King F (Plus)

"But you're grounded, Alex. Two weeks."

...damn.

"Um, just so we're all on the same page, what does 'grounding' involve?"

"No friends coming over, no going to visit, no kung fu classes, no leaving town, and NO MAGIC."

Erk.

"You can still write to your friends," your mother continues. "And I'll make an exception for any magic you need to use to deliver those letters, or to let this... Gen, was it? To let him know you'll be unavailable for the immediate future."

"Ouch," Briar murmurs.

Your father gives you a look that says, 'Take the deal!'

The fact that you're being allowed to contact Gen to let him know of the delay in your returning to work is reassuring. However, there's another issue that needs to be addressed.

"Um... not that I'm arguing with being grounded or anything, but..."

Your mother sighs. "Yes, Alex?"

"I kind of made an appointment to meet with a shrine maiden a day or two from now, and... well, it involves paying back a debt I owe. To a god."

Your parents stare at you.

"I'm sorry, what?" your mother asks.

"A Japanese god did me a favor a little while ago, and I wanted to know if there was a way I could thank him, so I went to an expert."

"...what?"

You're beginning to worry that you may have broken your mother somehow.

"He's one of the good guys," you say, in an attempt to reassure your her. "And everything I know about him" - which isn't much, admittedly - "tells me he's not the sort to do anything nasty if I'm slow about showing my gratitude. But still, I really do want to keep that meeting, if only so I know what to do after I'm done being grounded." You pause. "It would be very easy for me to just... ignore being grounded, but I don't want to abuse your trust like that, so if you say I can't go back to Japan, I won't. I'll send a message to apologize for the delay, and check back with the shrine when you say I'm allowed to travel again."

Your mother doesn't answer right away.

"This 'favor,' Alex," your father says. "When exactly did it happen?"

"When I was visiting the Shuzens," you admit honestly.

Your father scowls.

"But it wasn't because of anything they did or didn't do, Dad," you add quickly.

"Then what WAS it because of?"

"I was trying to talk to the Goddesses that helped me exorcise Uncle Rory's stuffed animals. You remember that, right, Dad?"

"I'm not likely to forget," your father replies in an undertone. More clearly, he adds, "There were goddesses involved in that? Like, actual toga and halo wearing divine beings?"

Um.

"Halos, yes," you reply. "I... don't think any of them wear togas, though. That's more of a Greek and Roman thing, isn't it?"

Your father's expression says he has no idea, and is wondering why you're asking him for details on godly fashion.

Aware that you're drifting, you shake your head and get back on-topic.

"Anyway, I was having weird dreams" - not BAD dreams, you don't want to start your folks associating negative feelings with the Shuzens again if you can avoid it - "and when I went to talk to Miss Akasha about it, we ended up in a discussion with most of the other adults. It turned out that one of THEM was having problems sleeping, too, so we agreed to look for answers on the cause, because as far as the Shuzens knew, it really shouldn't have been happening."

"...you called up a bunch of goddesses because you were having trouble sleeping?"

"They were REALLY weird dreams," you repeat, with emphasis. "And Miss Akkiko was having dreams about the same thing. She has magic of her own, and when people with magic start sharing dreams without MEANING to, it's generally a warning that something's up."

You continue from there, explaining how Akkiko and Ambrose tracked down a location just outside the Shuzen estate where you'd be best-able to contact the Goddesses, and the precautions they took before you even started casting the spell. You also give your parents a quick summary of how the Spell of Divination works, emphasizing the safeguards that are built in.

"It should have gone fine, and it DID for the first few questions I asked, but some other powerful being was listening in and decided to try and block the spell. That's NOT supposed to happen, EVER, but..." You trail off with a shrug. "Celestial politics."

Your parents both make faces at the P-word.

"It got noisy and a bit scary then, but the Thunder God, Raiden, stepped in to fix the mess."

"And that's the god you want to thank?" your father guesses.

You nod. "I have some idea of how to thank the three Goddesses" - and you'll have a better one, if you ever get those books from the Church of Hyrule - "but I don't really know much about Raiden, beyond the fact that he's one of the good guys."

Your parents look at each other, and huddle up for a minute to talk privately.

You're considering listening in, when Zelda comes over and tugs on your sleeve.

"Yes, Zelda?"

"Are they pretty?"

"The Goddesses, you mean?"

She nods.

Your parents come out of their huddle a moment later.

"Alright, Alex," your mother says. "Your father thinks that we should hold off on grounding you for a few days, so you can properly thank this... Raiden. God. Person." She stumbles over the words for a moment, before shaking her head. "So I'll give you three days to settle things in Japan. Also," she adds, "either your father or I are going to meet this 'Gen' fellow at some point, and see what he has you doing for him. If we don't like what we find there, you're not going back."

"Otherwise, the terms of your grounding stand."

"Alright," you reply. "Although there's... one more thing."

Your mother sighs. "And that is...?"

"Just to clarify: if something dangerous happens while I'm grounded, I'm allowed to use magic then, right?"

"...yes. That's fine. But only if it's an emergency."

And that is that.

The next day passes... quietly. You're stepping lightly around your mother, hoping to avoid raising any more matters she might take poorly. You spend a good portion of the day in your room, reading your newest books. You finish Who's Who and What's That? quickly enough - it's a magazine, they're not exactly heavy reading - but you've only just gotten started with Meditations Upon the Tao when you're called downstairs for lunch.

After eating, you get permission to call Lu-sensei and let him know that you've been grounded, and won't be attending class for a couple of weeks.

He inquires what led to this development.

Do you answer?

You slip in a bit more reading after lunch, but you've only gotten through the third chapter of Zuang Lao's heavy work when Zelda wakes up and demands your attention. THAT occupies most of the remainder of the afternoon, at which point Dad gets home. Then it's time for dinner. And after that...

"I've never seen them in person," you tell Zelda frankly. "But I'm sure they're very pretty. They have beautiful singing voices, at least, and their auras are certainly lovely."

Zelda frowns. "What'th an 'aura'?"

"You know how the heroes and villains in cartoons glow sometimes when they're being extra-awesome?"

"Oooh..."

You take a moment to consider your mother's terms, then nod in quiet acceptance of them. Her wanting to meet Gen - or at least have your father do so - is a fair addendum. He's a complete stranger to your folks, and you ARE planning to work with him for a fairly extended period. It's only natural that they'd want to make sure he wasn't taking advantage of you or giving off any sort of bad vibes.

Granted, if Gen was the sort of person who'd be dangerous to children, there's no way he'd have a Great Fairy's Tears on hand. But your parents aren't from Hyrule, and so wouldn't grasp the significance of such a gift if you told them about it.

Best to let them meet the old man, and make up their own minds.

With a sigh, you tell Lu-sensei that you got grounded for going to Japan and doing business with Gen behind your parents' backs.

There is a momentary pause. Then...

"Oh, come on, Sensei!" you protest. "It's not funny!"

His unabated laughter suggests he has a different opinion of the matter.

Grumbling, you hang up the phone. You've done your duty as a student by letting your teacher know you won't be showing up for the next few classes; there's no need to stay on the line any longer.

As the day wears on, you talk to your mother about this evening's trip to Japan. You admit that you'd like a chance to let Gen know he can expect company the next time you show up, which - mindful of both the deadline set by your mom, and the work you hope to put in towards repaying your debt to Raiden - should be either tomorrow or the day after.

She considers this, and then nods.

"It would be awfully impolite to loiter about his shop for several hours when we're not planning to buy anything, and it could cost him money," she says. "Better to get his agreement first."

And so it is that, after an earlier-than-normal dinner, you head out of town - invisible and moving at your best speed - this time making for that spot in the desert. You take a few minutes to look around, probing the terrain with your enhanced senses even more than with your eyes, but you don't pick up any indication that anyone - or anything - other than you has been out this way.

Well, maybe some tumbleweeds. But that's it.

In short order, you've scried and teleported to Gen's.

"Good morning, Mister Harris," the old man greets you. "I was not expecting you to be back so soon."

"There's been a... complication, sir."

"Oh?"

You explain the situation with your folks.

After a moment, Gen nods.

"I was honestly wondering if something like that wasn't going to happen, sooner or later. Nothing against your skills or maturity, my young partner, but you ARE still underage." He pauses. "Though I will admit, I had thought your martial arts teacher the more likely parent-or-guardian sort to show up."

You shrug, preferring not to mention that Lu-sensei seems to find your current state amusing.

While you're here, do you want to get some work done for Gen?

Having secured Gen's permission to bring your parents to work tomorrow, or the day after that, you thank him for his forebearance, apologize for the impact your being grounded is going to have on your business agreement, and then step outside to begin scrying the Hakuba Shrine.

No more surprising police officers, if you can avoid it.

A few minutes later, the image of the shrine stairs fades into view in your mind's eye. The wards around the shrine blur what you see, making it hard to tell if anybody is present on the main grounds, but at the very least, you don't see anyone making their way up or down the steps. The street below is not so conveniently clear of traffic, but none of the people you see are wearing a police uniform, and no official-looking vehicles drive by.

Still, that's enough sets of eyes to be concerned about. Best to make with the invisible teleportation.

Vanishing yourself, you perform a shortened, short-range Ritual of Teleportation, step between spaces-

-flying/fall-

-and reappear a few steps down from the shrine's main gate. You hurry across the threshold and out of the sight of the pedestrians and drivers below before willing your Spell of Invisibility to disperse.

The Hakuba Shrine grounds are quiet, and at first glance, appear unoccupied - but only until the door of the shrine proper slides open with a clack, to reveal the eldest of the Hakuba priests, tassel-wrapped prayer-stick in hand and a fierce expression on his face as he looks in your direction.

He blinks, and suddenly appears sheepish.

"Ah, Mister... Harris, was it? My apologies, I thought you might be something else." He coughs once, and then steps down from the wooden walkway, sliding his feet into a waiting pair of shoes. "Welcome back to the Hakuba Shrine. How may we be of assistance to you today?"

You open your mouth to speak, then stop.

"...actually, I have to ask. What was up with that look you gave me just now? I mean," you add quickly, seeing the priest's wince, "is it something I should be aware of? Because if it's none of my business, I retract the question."

"Thank you for that offer, but you should know," the priest replies. "I was alerted to a strong magical presence appearing just outside the shrine proper. We've had... concerns, lately, regarding unannounced magical visitations, and since I didn't immediately recognize the aura of the caster, I took it to be someone... less than friendly."

So, in other words, your arrival that close to the shrine tripped one or more of the local wards. But showing up on the sidewalk the other day apparently didn't, or else you suspect you wouldn't have been greeted solely by the miko and a couple of cops.

That Hakuba Senior didn't recognize your aura is a bit strange, given he was leading the effort to purify your soul when you first came here - but then again, that was entirely a spiritual affair, wasn't it? You don't recall casting any spells while on the shrine's grounds, and there IS a difference between your aura when it's at rest, your aura when it's doing spiritual things, and your aura when you're casting spells.

More importantly, there's a difference between your aura and your *magical signature*: the latter is largely devoid of the physical, mental, and spiritual elements that make up your aura, leaving only the magic; and the magic, in turn, can be pretty radically altered depending on the spell it's being used to cast. Your magical signature at rest, for example, is very different from your magical signature when casting a Spell of Summoning - such as the Spell of Teleportation you used to get here.

The priest wouldn't have had any prior contact with your spellcasting, and so, no reason to recognize it.

"Sorry about that," you say contritely. "I got here by magic, and I thought... well, just dropping in on the shrine itself seemed rude, but showing up at the top of the stairs felt like it'd be okay."

The eldest Hakuba smiles faintly. "And it got you out of actually climbing the stairs?"

"Definitely a bonus," you agree. "If I visit in the future, would you prefer that I land somewhere a bit farther away?"

"It would be appreciated, yes."

You nod. "I'll do that, then."

"Thank you. And now that we have that out of the way..."

You quickly explain that you were hoping to speak to the young miko, adding that you stopped by the other day with a request of a somewhat spiritual nature, which she agreed to look into for you. When you inquire if she mentioned this, Hakuba Senior replies that she did not, though he has noticed the young lady - her name is "Suzuka," as it happens - going around talking to people in the community about something.

As he's in the dark about the details of your last visit, you decide to fill him in on your debt to Raiden, and your desire to pay it back, or forward.

Incidentally, the priest's reactions to your tale are not all that different from the faces Suzuka showed when you told her: astonishment at your ability to attempt to commune with divinity, let alone to succeed; shock at your being interrupted by clearly demonic powers; and bemusement at the Thunder God's intervention.

"I... see," he finally replies. "That is... ah... quite a tale. And your decision to show your gratitude to Lord Raiden is commendable."

"Thank you, sir. So... is Miss Suzuka available?"

"Not at the moment, I'm afraid," he answers. "She's running an errand, and I don't expect her to be back for at least an hour."

"Oh."

Well, that's inconvenient. He couldn't have mentioned that sooner?

You willfully ignore how you hardly gave the older man any time to say anything, before recounting the tale of your communion gone wrong.

Well. What now?

Although you consider asking Hakuba Senior for his take on what you owe to Raiden and how you might go about paying it back, you decide that since you asked Miss Suzuka for help first, it wouldn't be fair to her to go to someone else behind her back. If she comes back and tells you she couldn't find anyone in need of the assistance of a sorcerer, that's the time when you should seek assistance from a higher authority. Until then, it feels right to leave your request in the hands of the woman you went to for help first.

That leaves you with some time to kill before the miko gets back from whatever it is she's out doing. You suppose you could go home, let your mom know what's up, and then come back, but you'd spend all but a few minutes of your time traveling or preparing for such, and the idea of going all the way back to Sunnydale, just to turn around and come straight back to Tokyo, strikes you as a waste of time and effort.

Seriously, if you need to give your mother a heads-up, you have the Spell of Sending.

It strikes you as a much better idea to just wait at the Hakuba Shrine until the junior priestess gets back, assuming you can get permission to hang around from the resident head priest. Maybe there's something you could do for them while you wait? Something to pass the time in a productive manner, and repay the shrine as a whole for the favor they're doing you?

The priest frowns at your request.

"I am, of course, always open to help others meet their spiritual obligations," he says slowly. "But don't you have school, young man?"

"I'm on summer vacation right now, sir," you explain.

He blinks, and then nods as realization dawns. "Ah, yes. I'd forgotten that American schools are on a different schedule." Then he frowns again, more seriously than before. "But you are out by yourself? No parent or guardian?"

"I have my parents' permission to be here, sir," you answer the priest. "Also," you add, pointing at your shoulder, "I have a fairy companion."

The priest glances in Briar's direction.

Even though you're both aware that he can't actually perceive her, she waves.

"Approval AND a minder, hmmm?" the old man says thoughtfully. "Well, that puts my concerns to rest. As for something you could do... I may have something that would qualify. If you'll follow me..."

You do so, letting Hakuba Senior lead you across the grounds of the shrine to a small building at the back, one that's probably not even as big as your bedroom at home. At first glance, there's nothing particularly remarkable about the structure; it could be the old Japanese equivalent of a garden shed for all you know. As you draw closer, however, you begin to sense a faint pressure in the air.

Magic.

Spiritual energy.

And just on the edge of your senses, so fleeting that you almost miss it, something demonic.

Gained Spiritual Sense C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Calling up your active senses, you can discern a network of interwoven threads of power running over, around, and through the small building. Sorcery and prayer were tied together here, long, long ago, and have been maintained ever since.

Gained Spiritual Knowledge D (Plus)

"What is this place?" you ask seriously.

"A prison, of sorts," the old priest answers in the same tone. "From time to time, shrines such as ours are called upon to deal with items that have been cursed, possessed, or constructed with particularly vile attributes and intentions. Some, we purify. Others, we seal away." He sighs. "And a few, we can only hope to survive... but there are none of those here. No, this is where the Hakuba Shrine has traditionally kept some of its more persistent but manageable problems."

He stops a few strides short of the shed, and turns to face you.

"However well we have restrained them, the contents of this building pose enough of a danger that only the head priest of the shrine is permitted to unseal it or venture inside. While a perfectly sensible precaution against harm and havoc, it does have the drawback of leaving the chores usually handed down to younger and less-burdened souls in the hands of tired old men with a great many other responsibilities." He smiles self-depreciatingly, and makes a gesture that takes in the entire shed. "And you can see the consequences of that for yourself."

You can. While it's hardly run-down, you're close enough now to see that the old shed is more worn and weathered than the other buildings that make up the shrine.

"Well," you say, to nobody in particular. "I DID ask for something to do."

"You did," Briar agrees.

There are a few things you could offer to do to help out Mister Hakuba. What appeals?

"I can definitely do some restoration work on the shed and sweep up the interior, if you want," you tell the old priest. "But I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Information-gathering magic is one of my specialties," you explain. "I'll understand if you'd rather not have me poking at the things you're keeping in there, but if there are any items you'd like to get a second opinion on, and which you'd be willing to bring out...?"

"I can think of several items that I wouldn't object to learning more about," Mister Hakuba admits, looking honestly tempted by your offer. "Some of those are too heavily sealed to let out, but there are others... I'll have to go through the collection to make sure, but there are several relics it should be safe for you to examine, as long as I'm here and you don't handle them directly."

"That should be fine," you say.

The priest turns to the shed, places his hand upon the door, and with a low chant and a continuous flow of highly-refined spiritual power, lowers the defenses around the so-called prison. You watch intently, hoping to see something new, but it's basically the priestly equivalent of a Spell of Unlocking, something you're already perfectly capable of casting on your own. That said, you don't think you could open this particular door any time soon: it's clearly keyed to the Hakuba lineage in general, and this one member of the family in particular; the unlocking process requires a level of control over one's spiritual energies that you just don't have right now; and from the way the wards are channeling and analyzing Mister Hakuba's energy, you suspect that Bad Things would happen to anybody who tried to open the door without being fully human and untainted by evil.

That's fine, though. It's not like you were planning to break into their shed or anything like that, now were you?

As the wards power down, you become keenly aware that there are Dangerous Things inside. Some demonic, some merely magical, and others... almost alive. There is an eerie feeling of sleeping awareness - some of it, resting only very, very lightly - a mix of mischief, malevolence, and distant murmuring that you can't quite make out.

It's not a patch on the choking malice of the Hellmouth, nor is it the bloody aura of violence lingering over the Shuzen estate, but it manages to be disturbing in a whole new way.

Hardening your senses against the unpleasant energies, you get to work.

It takes you twenty minutes to finish restoring the shed. Half of that is spent in a careful investigation of the state of the shed, and which parts of it really NEED to be repaired, as well as which parts you don't want to disturb - the dimly-glowing lines of the inactive wards take priority there, as do the handful of weathered ofuda plastered over the walls at various points. The remaining time is spent casting the Spell to Make Whole.

It's not the quickest magic in the world, but you're not exactly pressed for time. Besides, in terms of mana, it's very cheap - a bargain, really, for what it lets you do.

As your magic takes effect and begins reversing years, even decades of neglect, you sense the shed's aura changing slightly. How doesn't become entirely clear until you've finished this phase of your work and Hakuba Senior has emerged from his search of the "prison" and reactivated the wards. As you note the differences, you experience a brief moment of concern that you made a mistake somewhere, but it dawns on you that the opposite is actually the case. The ward schema looks neater than it did before, and the aura of power hanging around the small outbuilding is fainter and less oppressive than it was when you approached - let alone after Mister Hakuba brought down the wards. You can see that the wards, backed by tiny touches in the design of the shed, are more efficient at drawing ambient power from the environment and dispersing both their signature and the auras of the things they help keep under lock and key.

The priest is visibly chagrined by the change. No doubt he finds the evidence of his neglect of this particular duty embarrassing.

You make a point of not bringing it up.

Gained Feng Shui F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Architecture) F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

"Well," the old man says, as he turns to face you. "Thank you for that, Mister Harris."

"You're welcome, Mister Hakuba." You glance at his hands, which are holding a cloth bundle, bound in prayer strips, that looks about the right size and shape to be either a long knife, or a short sword. "I take it you found something worth a second look?"

"Indeed," he says, unwrapping the object. "Have a look."

As you guessed, it's a sword. Japanese style, but not long enough to be one of those swords samurai were supposed to carry along with their katana. To your inexperienced eye, it could be a few hundred years old, or it could have been made yesterday, but given that it was in the Hakuba's shed, you're leaning towards the former. Now that it's free of the restraining wards, you can sense magic - not demonic or corrupt, just an enchantment of some kind worked into the metal. With the sheath in place, that's about all you can say for certain with your passive senses.

So you go active. The magical aura becomes clearer, a mix of Abjuration, Augmentation, and Elementalism - mostly Earth, with a warding against Water. Probably spells to preserve the blade, and a simple enhancement for greater accuracy and sharpness.

...you're not sensing anything that you'd call evil, or even naughty. Considering where it was, that makes you suspicious, and you cast the Greater Spell to Detect Magic, which can overcome minor spells mean to conceal or confuse auras.

And there it is. The aura of Necromancy, in that dark, unsettling hue that typifies a curse. A fairly strong one, too, something involving blood, violence, and hints of possession. Nasty, but not uncommon for cursed swords. You could break someone free of this item if they were ensnared by its power.

You report all of this to Hakuba Senior, who says that your findings agree with the known history of the blade.

"But it's also nothing we didn't already know," he adds. "Can you do better?"

"I can, but I'd need some material reagents to help focus my magic." And since you have serious doubts that the shrine has a ruby lens set in gold on hand... "Do you have some incense you'd be willing to spare? And four pieces of ivory, about... so big?"

You indicate a rough size with your hands.

"The incense, yes. But I'm afraid we're fresh out of ivory."

Somehow, that just figures.

How does this affect your decision to divine the item's nature?

"Alright. With your permission, sir, I'd like to set up for my next spell. This one's going to take a lot more preparation and effort, and it's going to be fairly 'loud' in the magical sense. Is that alright by you?"

"How loud are we talking, here?" the priest inquires with a frown.

"The aura of the Spell of Divination that I have in mind will linger for several hours," you admit.

"...can you cast it indoors?"

"Yes, that won't be a problem."

The priest nods, relieved. "This way, then."

He leads you back to the building where he, his son, his grandson, and Miss Suzuka performed that explosive purification ritual on you the previous week. As you enter the building, your eyes track to the ceiling, where that ritual sword got jammed after the Raging Boar decided to be "helpful."

The sword is no longer there, but there IS a distinctive hole in the wooden beam.

"I could fix that, too," you offer. "If you'd like, I mean."

The priest looks where you're looking. "I appreciate the offer, but we discussed things, and decided to leave it as a reminder."

A reminder of what, he doesn't say.

You shrug. His shrine, his call.

Another ten minutes pass while you set up. First, you inquire if you could use some of that incense Hakuba Senior mentioned was available. He agrees to that easily enough, and leaves the room to find his grandson for help in setting up. He takes the cursed sword with him, having re-wrapped it in its ward-covered cloth.

By the time the older priest returns, descendant in tow, you're well into casting the Spell of Greater Creation, an assortment of mind-affecting Augmentation spells guiding your efforts as you work to conjure the focuses required by the spell you intend to use on the sword. A visible field of magic covers the floor before you, motes of energy gradually condensing, shifting, and solidifying into what you hope will be magically-stable forms.

One by one, four tiny figurines of polished ivory materialize on the wooden floor.

You probe the tiny statuettes with your magic, and are reasonably satisfied as to their sturdiness.

Gained Knowledge (Magesmithing) E

The priests, you note, are staring at you and your creations. Hakuba the Third appears completely gobsmacked, and while his grandfather is holding on to a measure of dignity, it's clear that he's quite shocked by your display of capability.

One of the tiny figurines is that of a tall, athletically-built woman with long, wild hair, wearing a simple, slightly ragged-looking robe. Bumps about her upraised wrists give the impression of heavy bangles.

The second figurine is of a more demure woman, hair just as long but considerably neater, clad in a flowing gown. In her arms is a curved instrument that could be a harp, or something similar.

The third ivory carving is barely half the size of the first two, the figure it is patterned after appearing positively childlike next to the first two. She's holding a rectangular object that appears to be almost as big as she is - a book, a tablet, or something of that nature.

The three statuettes are placed at the points of an equilateral triangle, and in the middle, equidistant from all of them, is a representation of the Triforce emblem, in polished ivory.

Briar studies your little homage to the Goddesses for a moment, and then turns to you.

"Be sure to put a LOT more practice in before you try using something like this as an offering, Alex," she advises.

Given the vaguely-defined faces, the questionable nature of the instrument your tiny Nayru is holding, and a general lack of fine details, you have to agree.

Still, they ought to work out as magical focuses.

Haukba the Third - who you belatedly notice is wearing a casual shirt and slacks, rather than priestly attire - studies your work, before glancing at his grandfather.

"Is that... ivory?"

"So it seems," the elder priest admits.

You repress the impulse to smirk or otherwise let on that you're pleased by their reactions. Part of being awesome is not being TOO obviously pleased by your own awesomeness.

"I don't recognize these characters," the younger man admits.

"I don't, either," his grandfather says, crouching to get a better look at your creations. "But that symbol" - and here he points at the Triforce emblem - "looks very much like the crest of the Hojo Clan." The senior priest gives you a curious look. "Is that intentional?"

"I have no idea who the Hojo Clan are, so, not really," you admit. "Is the incense ready?"

"It is."

"Thank you. Then, shall we get started?"

You shall.

One of the most powerful Divination spells at your command, Vision, is almost ideal for your purpose here. The only catch is that, like the slightly-weaker Spell of Legend Lore upon which it is based, Vision is only intended to work on items, individuals, and places of a certain level of significance. Given the unremarkable potency of the curse upon the sword, the similarly mediocre strength of the seals it was being kept under, and the lack of any other malicious energies within the blade, you suspect what you're dealing with is not one of the serious threats the Hakubas are keeping watch over. The blade undoubtedly has a history of violence and suffering behind it, but whatever it's done or been used to do in the past may not have been sufficiently large-scale to qualify it as a legendary weapon.

If that's the case, Vision won't work.

However, you believe you can compensate.

When in doubt: USE MORE POWER.

First, you invoke the Vision as a ritual, imbuing it with extra power in the hope of increasing its sensitivity. This extends the casting time to a full eight minutes, and eats a full five percent of your maximum mana - but you have time to spare and power to burn, so it's well worth the expense.

As your spell reaches its peak, you feel something shift.

And then the world around you goes away, replaced by images of other places, other times.

Most of them involve violence.

Brutal, close-quarters, intimate violence.

Men in the armor of feudal samurai kill upon the battlefield, slaying one another and peasant conscripts with reckless abandon. Prisoners are executed, villagers and townsmen put to the sword, and the warriors cut down in turn.

Men, no longer wearing armor, but still bearing swords, do battle on the streets of an old-fashioned Japanese city. By day, there is relative peace, but at night, the walls and streets are stained with blood as factions clash.

You see women killing, using stealth, deception, and treachery to get close to victims that would easy cut them down in open battle.

You see children, fighting to survive, fighting for vengeance, and finally, fighting only to kill.

And always, you see the sword, passing from owner to owner, kill to kill, the curse woven into its being growing stronger with each bloody death, and its influence over its wielders increasing accordingly.

Warriors become butchers, defenders of the law become assassins, and vengeful killers become indiscriminate monsters.

And through it all, the sword grows stronger, crueller, and thirstier for blood.

Until one day, its latest host encounters an opponent that cannot be overcome by force or treachery, a creature that walks like a man but moves like the wind and strikes like falling thunder. He, it, can be cut, can bleed, but its wounds do not impair it, healing within moments of being made - when they can be made at all, for even with the sword's dim sentience pushing its wielder to the limits of human ability and beyond, the enemy, the MONSTER, is simply the better killer.

The warrior falls, his body crippled by his weapon's power and his enemy's claws, but before the demon can finish him, it is driven off by a band of samurai led by a priest. In his last moments of life, the dying warrior warns his rescuers of his cursed sword, and begs the priest to destroy or seal it, to prevent it from claiming another host.

The priest bows and draws forth an ofuda, and there is a flare of power and pain.

Then nothing.

The vision collapses, the history of the cursed sword revealed. As you suspected, there is no epic tale behind this weapon; rather than a creation of intentional supernatural malice, it was a mundane blade that survived so many battlefields, ended so many lives, that it became corrupted by violence. And unlike some such blades, it was never anything more than a petty opportunist. It felled no famous warriors, caused no remembered tragedies, and its one encounter with another supernatural power ended in its utter defeat.

On a side note, after having seen dozens, hundreds of people killed in such vicious ways, you're feeling more than a bit unwell.

Gained Traumatic Memories E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

In retrospect, this may not have been such a hot idea.