You're the youngest person here, at least biologically, and it's customarily the younger folks who get tapped to handle jobs like this. You also have the highest top speed by FAR, at least once you get moving seriously. Whether you're speaking in terms of etiquette or pure practicality, it just makes sense for you to be the one who pops outside to speak with the kami and the priests.
"I can take care of that, Captain," you say.
"Must you?" Briar groans.
"You don't have to come with me, Briar," you tell her. "You can just wait inside. It'll only take a minute or two, tops."
The fairy flies up to look you in the face. "And what do you suppose the odds are of something screwy happening in those two minutes when I'm not there?"
...
"Even if something does go wrong - and that's NOT an admission that it will! - your mother, a bunch of kami, and even more priests and monks will be out there," you say, trying a different tack. "I'll be fine."
"Yes, you will, because if you're going out, I'm coming with you."
And she's in Stubborn Partner Mode.
Well, you tried.
You turn back to the Captain. "As I was saying, sir, I can check on Priest Cato and the small gods before I go to look at the portal. It'll only take me a few minutes at most."
Marcus nods. "When you re-enter the base, come in through the eastern portal. It'll put you closer to the workshop where we have the gate. I'll have a man ready to show you the way."
"Thank you, sir." With a quick glance at the Hakubas, who wave you off, you turn and leave the command center, doubling-back on the route you just took.
You stick with Ki Enhanced speed while navigating the mini-maze of rooms that separates the assembly hall from the mess hall and storage area, saving a Body Flicker for the straight run right down that pillared hall, over the pit at the far end, and part-way across the circular chamber beyond. Even then, you don't push yourself as hard as you could have. It's not like this is an emergency situation, and you don't want to give any of the handful of spectral soldiers you pass the impression that it is.
There's also the matter of how your Ki Concealment has fallen behind your higher-level ki techniques of late. Limiting your output allows you to hone that slightly-neglected talent, and also prevents you from shedding large amounts of wasted life-force around an armed force of the undead.
They tend to notice things like that, and while the Memorians are your allies, being sloppy with your vital energy around beings from beyond the grave is a habit you'd just as soon not get into.
Some of them EAT that stuff.
In short order, you've returned to the now-familiar guard room that holds the "in" side of the portal.
"Last chance, Briar," you offer.
"Just go, already," she says.
You go.
The transition is smooth, and once it's over, you find that good news awaits you. Priest Cato did, in fact, manage to make the trip through the warded portal, and is even now engaged in a spirited debate with some of his mortal counterparts. Deacon James stands out in that particular crowd, not just for the differences in his attire, but also because he's the only one other than Cato speaking Latin - although if your mystical senses are accurate, the Memorian priest is using a translation spell.
"Problems, Alex?" Navi inquires from nearby.
"No, ma'am," you answer. "We just weren't sure if Priest Cato got out through the wards or not, and I volunteered to take a look - and also to convey a message from Captain Marcus for the kami, priests, and monks."
Several heads turn your way at this, some mortal, others divine, and most reflecting definite interest in what you just said.
"And that message would be...?"
"As long as they're willing to leave the soldiers' fate up to Mars, they're welcome to enter the base."
Some of the gathered crowd nod at your words. Others frown.
Message delivered. You could stick around and see how it turns out, but a planar gate - and the magical secrets it contains - are waiting.
You figure it's best to let the group make up their own minds about whether they want to make use of the base. It's entirely possible that they might be more comfortable staying out here on the proverbial front lawn, for one reason or another.
If nothing else, it's a nice day in this part of Faerie. For a bunch of people who've spent their lives (or a goodly portion thereof) surrounded by the urban sprawl of Tokyo, that change of scenery alone must be nice. Especially for the kami, some of whom might well remember a time when all they had to do to see terrain like this was look outside their shrine gates.
You're about to excuse yourself when an Idea flashes through your mind.
You are planning to go study a planar portal. The Spell of Plane Shifting is a magic that comes more easily to the dedicated followers of gods than to more... self-contained... casters like yourself. Part of that is because the divinity is doing the lion's share of the work in shaping the magic, freeing the priest of the need to KNOW all the delicate details - although a wise cleric will study up on those matters anyway.
After all, the better the mortal is able to hold up his end of the spell, the less the god NEEDS to do for it to work, and less energy spent answering one prayer NOW is more energy saved for LATER. That's not even getting into whatever is messing up the divine side of Earth's metaphysics, and how it might prevent a deity from granting a request involving planar travel unless the mortal making the request knew EXACTLY what he was asking for.
The other reason that gods and other beings capable of acting as patrons to mortal magic-users are good at planar magic is because they get a lot of practice at it. Priests and the like typically have a direct connection to their patron, a mystical link that allows whatever kind of energy the mortal is expected to offer to their patron to flow "upwards," while the power they pray and sacrifice for flows "downwards" from the realms where the gods, greater demons, Faerie Lords, and other such powerful entities typically reside. Even the so-called "earthbound" gods - beings of more-than-mortal nature that yet reside on the Mortal Plane - make use of such connections.
You've got nine kami and a good two dozen holy men here. Odds are that the small gods, at least, know more about planar mechanics than you do. So why not ask them for advice regarding the gate? Quite aside from the potential rewards you personally stand to reap, knowing that the base contains half of a planar gateway seems like the kind of thing that your assembled elders might want to know about.
You proceed to let the group know about the (currently inactive) portal to Earth, and the possibility of using it and its Earthside counterpart (status currently unknown) to restore a permanent means of travel to and from the base.
In this, you discover an ally in Priest Cato. "Yes, by all means! Come inside and BEHOLD one of the wonders of Memorian magical engineering, which enabled us to prosecute our two hundred year offensive against the treacherous Fae! Not you, of course," he adds in an aside to Navi.
"You meant the other treacherous Fae," she says easily, nodding.
"Yeeeeaaaaooooh, very clever." Cato scowls at Navi, and points one ghostly finger at her in warning. "I'm onto your fairy tricks, madam."
Navi smirks.
As it happens, mentioning the presence of the gate appears to have shifted the balance of opinion amongst the kami. A few still decide to remain outside of the base - one of those is the young-looking goddess who all but tackled her aging priest, and who you note is still holding the old man's hand, like she's afraid he'll disappear if she lets go - but five of them end up deciding to follow you and Cato inside, along with their mortal representatives. Kojiro and the Hakuba kami are among the latter group, and a few of the Buddhists tag along, as does Deacon James - although he looks a bit uncertain about it.
"Alright, then," you say, before turning sharply and pointing to the eastern portal, as Captain Marcus recommended. "Magical secrets beckon! Onwards to the gate!"
"Onwards!" Cato agrees.
You're the second one through the portal, right after the undead priest. As soon as you're inside, you step clear of the portal.
"Sorcerer Harris?" one of the five soldiers on watch inquires. "I'm to be your escort to the workshop."
"A moment, Clovis," Cato says, before you can speak. "We have a few more guests who wished to see the gate."
Even as he speaks, the first of the kami passes through the portal.
As the newcomer's divine aura sweeps over them, the spectral soldiers immediately snap to attention.
"Peace, lads," Cato intercedes. "They have the Captain's welcome, and have agreed that our fate is in the hands of Father Mars."
He seems to have that in hand.
While the holy men - and HOLIER men, and one goddess - are crossing through the portal, you take the opportunity to cast the Lesser Spell of Restoration on Briar, relieving her of the symptoms of having once again passed through the base's anti-Fae wards. It costs you more mana to do this than Ginta needed earlier, but you're able to offset some of the increased expense by reducing the spell's effective range to "self," and then shunting the effects down your pseudo-familiar link with Briar.
Once all the holy people are inside and sorted out, the soldier Cato called Clovis begins leading the way to the lab. Two of the guards on duty join your large party as added escorts, and a few more soldiers come hurrying down the corridor to do the same.
Do you want to talk to any of this large group while you're headed to the magical workshop where the gate is kept?
The group of kami included three goddesses, and if you were the deeply religious sort, you might take that as a sign that you were meant to talk to them.
As you're a bit more on the skeptical side, you don't quite believe that the Golden Goddesses are positioning other deities to send you a message. That kind of thing is a bit too subtle for Din, and too prone to being overlooked or misinterpreted for Nayru.
That said, you HAVE had fairly good luck dealing with female deities in the past, and you're just comfortable talking to girls in general, so you decide to stick with what works.
Only one of the trio of megami chose to enter the Memorian outpost, and she's not the young-looking one who was being so demonstratively affectionate towards her aged priest. This goddess appears older, although there's a timeless quality to her features that makes it hard to put an exact age to her avatar - were she mortal, she could be anywhere from her mid-twenties to a well-preserved forty-something.
Sensing your attention, the goddess's head turns your way. "May I help you with something, young master Harris?"
"Just Alex is fine, ma'am," you answer politely.
"Young master Alex, then. And please, call me Izumi."
Her accompanying priest - a man somewhere between Ichirou and Ginta in age, and more visibly muscular than either - does a double-take at this.
'Fountain' or 'spring,' huh? Maybe that's what she's the goddess of?
"And I was just wondering what you and your associates thought about all of this, Miss Izumi," you continue - getting a startled look of your own from the priest. It's somewhere between scandalized, disbelieving, and just a touch envious.
Considering that this is the first time the guy's been able to talk to his goddess face-to-face, it's pretty clear that he's neither used to nor comfortable with the idea of someone being so CASUAL with a deity - let alone the kami he's supposed to speak for.
"And by 'all of this,'" you go on, "I mean... well, pretty much everything that's happened since the Hakubas got in touch with you to arrange that meeting."
"That does cover quite a few things," the goddess agrees calmly. "I cannot speak for the others, of course, but for myself, I would say that the last twenty-four hours have been very interesting, and hopeful. It has been ENTIRELY too long since we were able to properly communicate with our charges; the mere possibility of being able to do so, even once, was a boon. The chance to make it a regular part of our lives once again? That is something I would call a blessing."
Izumi punctuates this statement with a warm smile at her priest, who promptly goes red in the face and looks at his feet, muttering something about honor and unworthiness and my, what an interesting floor this is.
The goddess hides her mouth behind one billowing sleeve, laughing softly.
By this time, you've left behind the "entrance" and "front hall" of this part of the base, and crossed the large, circular room that mirrors the chamber where you fought the mother Gohma - except that instead of a huge pit in the floor, there's a crack in the north wall where the spiders' tunneling broke through. The Prying Eyes you released to examine the base managed to get this far, and as such, you're not terribly surprised when Cato heads for the archway on the west side of the room - the one which you recall leading to a smaller chamber that branched off into half a dozen magically warded, lightning-trapped doors.
You probably have time to ask Izumi (or her priest) one more question, before you reach the room where the inactive gate is being kept.
"While we're on the subject, Miss Izumi," you say, "may I ask you what the story is with that restriction on gods interacting with their followers?"
The goddess doesn't quite frown, but the way her expression smooths out at your question suggests that she WOULD be frowning, if she were less well-mannered.
"I do not have the full story, myself," Izumi tells you frankly, "and some of what I do know, I am honor-bound not to disclose. However, I can tell you that it is not a single injunction that prevents us from communicating freely with our followers, but several. Some of those we adopted of our own free will, to encourage the humans in our care to develop their own abilities, rather than keep them reliant on our aid forever. Others were sacrifices made as part of binding agreements with honorable adversaries." The goddess pauses, and you see her lips quiver, as if she were having to fight to keep a still face. "And then there are the OTHER restrictions. THOSE were not voluntary, or made in good faith. They were forced on us."
Izumi glances at her priest.
"How much do you know of Japanese history, Young Master Alexander?" the man inquires.
You think for a second.
Outtakes from a couple of movies about World War Two flash past your mind's eye, as does the memory of Ichigo's tale of the oni of Karakura, and the assorted family histories you heard portions of when you were at the Shuzens' - theirs, the Arisawas', and some of the other guests' besides.
"Mostly just pop culture references, and a few bits and pieces from friends who actually live in Japan," you admit.
The priest frowns, but nods. "Well, to make a long story very short, our country did not have any contact with the Western world until 1543. At first, it was just a handful of lost explorers, and that was fine, but as more European ships arrived, they brought with them more people, as well as other things. Missionaries brought new ideas, merchants carried exotic goods, and every now and then, a magic-user, monster, or demon of a type never seen before would make the voyage."
You're reminded again of what you know of the Shuzen family history. Specifically, that anecdote about the ancestor that picked a fight with a greater youkai.
"This was right in the middle of the Warring States Era," the man continues, "and the general turmoil of the period meant that our land's spiritual defenses were... not what they should have been. As a result, some of these very LITERAL 'foreign devils' managed to avoid notice, go to ground, and start building power. Our ancestors didn't know how to properly deal with these invaders, and had to resort to brute-force methods as a result." The priest shakes his head with a sigh. "There was a great deal of damage to the land, spiritually as well as physically, and since many of our kami ARE the land, they suffered for it. Some fell into a state of dormancy, healing as the land recovered. Some are STILL sleeping today. Others were... less fortunate."
Yeah. That happens when demons are involved. Unhappy endings all around.
Gained Japanese History F
You get the impression that there's more to the priest's tale - to say nothing of what Izumi knows but can't or won't discuss - but Cato is making noises of "Welcome!" and "Behold!" from his place at the head of the procession, meaning that you're out of time for stories. At least for the moment.
While you've been talking with Izumi and her mortal representative, the Memorian priest has led your extended group into that room full of doors your Prying Eyes discovered the other day - the doors that were warded with some manner of lightning trap, in addition to the physical presence of guardian golems. The stone soldiers are gone, of course, but a quick look around with Mage Sight reveals active magical auras over all but two of the doors.
"Before we enter," Cato says then, from next to the western-most of the half-dozen doorways that ring the room, "a few words of caution. This part of the outpost contains sensitive materials, and as such, features increased levels of security, beginning with - but not limited to - the electrified barriers sealing most of these corridors."
None of the kami so much as blink at this announcement, but several of the priests do double-takes.
"The continued activity of these wards is not meant as an insult to you, our guests," the Memorian ghost continues firmly. "It is merely standing procedure for these rooms, whose contents include potentially hazardous substances and items, to be locked down whenever they are not in use."
"Do your security measures always involve lethal traps?" Deacon James asks in astonishment.
"Do yours not?" Cato says in exactly the same tone.
The priests shuffle a little bit farther away from the doors at that point.
Seeing the... cautious reaction of the priests, you decide to step forward to be the first to enter Cato's lab, and move up through the crowd - and murmuring "excuse me"s and "pardon me"s as you go. The Memorian shade sees you coming and ushers you onward with a sweeping gesture, and after following a straight corridor for about twenty feet, you enter the maintenance facility.
The Memorian workroom is a forty-foot square, with a ceiling ten feet off the ground. Stone work-tables were raised from the floor along the edges of the chamber - a thousand years ago, they were probably accompanied by shelves and chests full of tools and raw materials, but after such a long time, little remains of any of it except for the same sort of rusted-down, rotted-out husks of furniture you've found in other parts of the base.
There's surprisingly little dust, though. Marcus did say Cato had been in here earlier; maybe he was cleaning up?
The main exception to the state of decay that prevails over the chamber is the warding array that runs along its every surface. Looking at it immediately reminds you of Ambrose's spellcasting chamber, but where the spell-arrays in that room were an elaborate example of a single master's work, the warding diagrams here are much simpler in design. Ambrose spared no expense to build an array capable of fulfilling a hundred different functions, but the diagrams you see here only appear to be meant to serve two purposes: to ward off external influences; and to contain reactions that occur in this room. Some silver was used, but it's just enough for the array to be functional and stable; the rest is iron and copper, with not a hint of gold, platinum, or other precious metals to be found anywhere. No jewels, either.
There's also signs that the array was damaged in the past, and repaired by different hands than the ones which originally laid it down. Parts of the wall upon which the whole thing rests are different shades than the unrelieved black that makes up the overwhelming majority of the base's surfaces, as if chunks of stone were torn out and replaced. In a similar vein, some of the lines and characters that make up the array are subtly distinct from other sections - while they use the same "language" as the rest of the Memorian spellwork, there are elements that betray different individual styles and levels of skill. "Handwriting," as it were.
Most of the center of the room is taken up by the portal. It's a stone ring about twenty feet in diameter, two and a half feet wide from outer to inner surfaces, and about eight inches thick. The front face, at least, is covered by more examples of Memorian spellcraft, all worked into the stone in a metal medium. The bottom of the ring is either fitted into or fused with a wide triangular base, massive enough to offset the weight of the rest of the portal and keep it upright and in position - or at least, you're assuming so.
It's kind of hard to tell when the whole thing is in pieces.
Fortunately for your plans - and your heart - the portal appears to have been DESIGNED to come apart like this. The ring proper has been separated into eight parts, identical in every dimension except for how two of them are fitted into the base, which has itself been split down the middle. Those two pieces of the gate are standing upright next to each other, but the other six have been placed onto individual stands - stone blocks whose top faces have slots carved into them, each matching the curve of the inner surface of the gate-fragments.
On their own, those "fragments" look like they're each longer than you are tall, or would be if they were properly straightened out - and they're solid stone. You shudder to imagine how much they must weigh, whether alone or in combination.
You also can't help but notice a certain... resemblance... between this ancient artifact, and another device of extremely similar purpose that you've seen on television.
You turn to Cato. "Out of curiosity, Priest Cato, where did your people get the design for this portal?"
The ghost blinks. "It was based on a Roman design. Why do you ask?"
"I just wanted to make sure that it didn't come from Egypt," you reply.
"Well, actually-"
NOPE. Not listening.
While you've been studying the gate, the kami and priests have been filing into the room behind you. It's probably just as well that some of the original group chose to stay outside, as even with your reduced numbers, the workshop wasn't really meant to have a lot of people in it at one time.
The group's attention is divided between the spell-array and the disassembled gate. As for you...
You'll start with the arrays covering the walls, floor, ceiling, and sides of the raised stone tables and stands.
For one thing, they're a much simpler example of Memorian spellcraft than the gate - or the control array in the command room. Consequently, looking at them first is more likely to give you insights into how the displaced Roman descendants worked magic, and thereby make studying the portal more productive.
Also, you want to make sure that the arrays, designed to ward against external energies, won't interfere with your study of the gate. Granted, from what you can see of the design, that ward is mostly meant to keep energy outside the ROOM from interacting with magic worked inside - something like the ancient mystical version of a Faraday cage, or perhaps a cleanroom. The analogies aren't quite exact.
Still, better safe than sorry.
Cycling ki and an extra dose of mental energy through your nervous system, you bring your senses and mental processes up to full strength as you begin studying the magical diagrams inscribed upon and into the stones of the chamber.
Gained Brain Enhancement F (Plus) (Plus)
The effects being produced by the ward on this room are roughly equivalent to Spells of Protection, or Magic Circles Against Your Least Favorite Conceptual Energy. Such magic is well-known to you, and these examples of the craft don't teach you anything new in that regard.
You do get some pointers on Memorian spellcraft, as well as how they translated impermanent spells to more lasting and tangible forms. Not enough to recreate even this comparatively simple array, but with the right materials, you could assemble an item capable of creating a Magic Circle on command. It wouldn't remain functional for a thousand years - not without some extremely good luck on both your part AND its - but you could do it.
Also, you can confirm that your worries about having your investigation of the disassembled portal be complicated by the wards on this room weren't entirely baseless. The array keeps magical activity outside the room from getting in - the heavy stone construction helps a great deal in that regard - but it also "grounds" energy in the room and siphons it away, to be ejected from the chamber. This would prevent the residue of spells, reagents, and items used in the lab one day from contaminating work done later.
Based on your observations, the rate at which the array siphons energy isn't fast enough to interfere with spellcasting or other active uses of power. It would, however, make "passive" effects - like your default Mage Sight - less than one hundred percent reliable.
Good thing you thought to check on that.
You look around at the other individuals in the room.
Most of the kami have gathered around the pieces of the disassembled gate, and are trading glances and murmurs as some among their number point out details of the design. They don't appear at all troubled by the presence of the wards on the room.
The same can't be said for the handful of priests that have joined the small gods in their discussion. Cato and the two oldest living gentlemen look they aren't having any trouble following along, but the younger priests are alternately frowning, squinting at the carved stone and etched metal, and shaking their heads.
The remaining priests, meanwhile, are either studying the arrays that line the room, or else watching their elders at work. One of the kami seems to be taking notes on the design of the spellwork on the walls.
Seeing as how no one else is doing so, you decide to speak up and let the group - particularly the mortals who seem to be having difficulty keeping up with the kami - know of your findings.
"Excuse me," you say.
There is a pause in the general conversation as eyes turn in your direction.
You quickly recount your discovery of how the warding array will interfere with passive magical scans, but allow more focused active scans to function normally.
The kami, the elder priests, and Cato don't look the least bit surprised by your statement, and some of the younger holy men who were studying the walls merely nod in agreement with it. Maybe a third of the group allow themselves to blink, utter soft exclamations, or otherwise give away their chagrin.
Regardless, there's a slight but noticeable increase in the amount of mystical energy floating about the room, as various members of your expanded party crank up whatever extrasensory methods they're using to study the Memorian gate.
You go ahead and join their number. There's no time for a ritual casting if you want to keep up with the rest of the group, but you judge the information you stand to gain to be well worth the small sacrifice of mana.
After only a minute of steady observation, you can safely confirm that - and you can also say that taking the time to ensure you got a clear read on the magical "architecture" of the portal was a good idea. With your Mage Sight pinging away and revealing the physical shape and placement of the magically-sensitive components of the stone arcs, as well as giving you an idea of HOW those elements react to magical energy in general, you gain further insights into the Memorian magical tradition, their particular style of crafting both spells and enchanted items, and also into the workings of Summoning Magic.
Not everything you learn is from observation alone, either. Now that you've cleared up why some members of the group were finding it hard to follow along, Cato and the kami have quickly gone back over details of the design and the underlying magical theories at work. It's a more in-depth assessment of how something works than you'd previously have expected priests to receive, but that fits with the entire situation on Earth - and it suits your own needs just fine.
You still wouldn't care to try casting a Spell of Plane Shifting under your own power, but you're one step closer to getting a handle on the formulas involved. And you'll definitely be able to identify the Earth-based "side" of the Memorian gateway, if and when you find it.
Gained Summoning B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
The collective investigation of the portal goes on for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. By the time it's done, Ginta and Ichirou have turned up, having made their way from the control room through the wing of the main base that you, personally, have yet to explore.
Seeing your two comrades in arms, you pause to take stock of the situation. You've been here in Faerie for the better part of an hour, now, and you've got about that much time left before you need to be on your way home.
Some inquiries on your part reveal that, as far as Cato, the kami, and the more senior living priests can tell, the gate is fully-functional - or will be, once it's been moved to its intended location and reassembled.
Even when that relatively minor detail has been taken care of, however, the gate can't just be turned on. Well... no, it COULD, but that wouldn't create the planar passageway you want; at best, it'd open a temporary and strictly one-way gate to a random reality, meaning anyone and anything that went through the portal would be unable to return the same way. At worst... you'd rather not think about it.
The portal in the Faerie base is meant to operate in tandem with its counterpart on Earth, but both sides of the gateway have been down for a very long time, and the enchantments that normally create and maintain the link between worlds have long since fallen out of synch with one another. In order to properly realign the gateway, both portals have to be activated at the same time, which means someone is going to have to find, potentially repair, and then boot up the Earth gate.
None of the kami can do it. Their power is tied to Japan - specifically, to places within Japan - and the Japanese people. The Memorian gate is somewhere in Europe, which is not only far outside their domain in pure geographical terms, but also the territory of entirely different Powers - the Church, older "pagan" deities, and assorted demons, to name a few - a number of which don't get along with the small gods of the Far East.
Deacon James says that he's never seen or heard of anything like the Memorian portal before, though he also admits that given his humble rank, that doesn't mean a great deal. He can certainly send a request to Rome for information regarding ancient devices that resemble the one he's seeing here, but given how busy things are for the Church at the moment, it's unlikely that an answer will be forthcoming.
You ask Cato if Mars can help, but he reluctantly admits that the war-god's options for acting on Earth are just as curtailed as those of other deities. More so, in fact, since he doesn't have a lot of worshippers left on Earth - living or otherwise - to act as conduits for his power and will.
The Memorian priest hastens to add that Mars is certain that the Earthside portal still exists. He's just... not sure about its location and condition.
The comparison Cato makes is that of a general stationed in the capital city, being asked to report on the condition of a single sword in an army base in a contested territory, without calling upon the assistance of any of his subordinates, and WHILE being actively hindered by rival officers, annoying bureaucrats, and the possibility of discovery by enemy agents.
"In that kind of situation," the ghost says, "it only makes sense to send in a deniable asset to do the legwork."
...
You're suddenly hearing the Mission: Impossible theme in your head.
Shaking it off, you ask Cato if he's alright with you doing a particularly high-intensity form of magical analysis on the gate.
He immediately asks you HOW intense, adding that in its disassembled state, some of the device's more sensitive components are either exposed or simply less-protected against outside interference - hence the presence of the energy-siphoning ward array.
You demonstrate by looking away from the pieces of the portal, and briefly turning on your Power Sight.
Gained Power Sight E (F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) without Heart Containers)
Barring the two Hakubas, every head in the room immediately whips around to stare at you.
Turning off the golden glow emanating from your eyes, you look back up at the dead priest's spirit. "Too much?"
"Yyyyessss," Cato slowly replies. "That much energy would definitely be... too much." He pauses, and then asks, "Are you a god?"
Gained Latin D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
The quote from Ghostbusters is right on the tip of your tongue, but Ichirou beats you to it.
"Yes!" the youngest of the Hakuba priests exclaims, one fist pumping into the air. "Vindication!"
Ginta sighs. Kojiro snickers. The Hakuba kami... is not really paying attention to the antics of his priests, and is instead studying you with particular intensity.
As are all the other kami and the remaining assembled holy men.
Belatedly, you recall that this WAS the first time anyone other than the Hakubas got to see you call upon your Power in its purest form.
...whoops?
"Ichirou asked the same question yesterday," you say frankly, "and I'll tell you what I told him: no, I'm not a god. I may or may not qualify as a champion of one of the Goddesses I follow, maybe of all three, but I'm definitely not a god."
Cato blinks. "I don't believe I've ever heard of a goddess giving out that much power to a champion," he says. "Certainly not to one so young as you."
"Din is awesome that way," you answer.
Of course, that's not the whole story - heck, it's not even MOST of the story. But you're not about to go into the details of the literally otherworldly origins of your soul, your conscious recollection of past-life experiences and the abilities that come with them, or how Din doesn't actually grant people power for being her followers - except perhaps in the case of the Triforce. Which is something ELSE you don't want to talk about if you can avoid it. And then there's your efforts to genuinely take up worship of the Goddesses, and moreover, to spread that faith.
Just attributing everything to Din is a convenient out, however many details it leaves out.
Every kami in the room TWITCHES at the mention of the Goddess of Power. They're still staring at you, but their previous expressions of intent interest have just given way to shocked recognition.
The good news is, they're not looking at you like you were a Zol that just oozed out from under a rock.
The bad news is, they're looking at you kind of like you were a Bomb Flower that was just disturbed, and might be about to go off in their faces.
While you're pleased to see that your favorite Goddess's name is known to the local divine set, you have to wonder what the heck she's been DOING in the higher realms recently, if THAT'S the first reaction a bunch of other gods have to hearing her name.
Then again, it's entirely possible that the kami's reaction is not due to anything Din has DONE, and just a simple consequence of what she IS - namely, one-third of a creator trinity. The divine personages before you are the small gods of individual loctations and objects, which puts them a fair way down the cosmic totem pole from the Golden Goddesses.
Or maybe it's because Navi was telling tales? She wasn't up on the surface with these gods and their followers for all that long, but she could have passed on a few things about the Goddesses - and being a Great Fairy and thus divine in her own right, her words would have carried weight.
Speaking of Navi and the Goddesses, you were meaning to have another talk with the Great Fairy, regarding the unpleasant spirit that had attached itself to Dark Link. Yesterday, she agreed to speak with the three sisters about the topic - that, and the fact that something was deliberately limiting the connection between Earth's gods and their followers.
With the gods suddenly appearing reluctant to press you for details regarding the source of your Power, and priests generally taking their cue from the patrons, this might be a good time to excuse yourself and go speak with Navi.
Although you are tempted to stay and ask the kami why they're reacting the way they are to your mention of Din's name, you decide that it wouldn't really be a productive use of your time. Whatever the reason for it, they're clearly uneasy about your patron Goddess, and that would unavoidably color their responses to your questions. If you're being honest, it's also a little... uncomfortable, having half a dozen gods look at you that way.
Besides, if you really need to know, there are still those four kami who decided to stay outside. You could still ask them what Din has been up to, and just... not mention your link to her? At least not at first?
...
Well, if all else fails, you can just ask Navi what she knows of the Golden Goddesses' activities on and around Earth - and she must know SOMETHING. She's a fairy. Knowing stuff is part of what they DO.
Making your excuses, you slip out of the lab, and make for the entrance at the best Ki Enhanced Body Flicker speeds you can manage while keeping your aura dialled down. Stone halls and chambers race past, and in short order, you're checking in with the soldiers stationed in the guard room, letting them know that nothing has gone wrong and nobody has declared a holy war, you're just headed out to speak to the Great Fairy.
They check in with Marcus, just to let him know you're on your way out, and then let you pass through the portal.
"-and then the Goron says, 'That's not a rock, that's my wife!'"
The old priest standing next to the young megami throws back his head, cackling madly at Navi's joke. The goddess herself is more restrained, but has hidden her mouth behind one voluminous sleeve, and her eyes are sparkling in obvious amusement.
Briar groans. "Have you SERIOUSLY spent all this time telling tired old jokes like that, Mom?"
"No, not all the time," Navi replies. "And besides, our guests have never heard Hyrule humor before. From their perspective, even the oldest joke is fresh and new!"
"Except for the ones we lack the cultural references to really appreciate," one of the three male kami notes.
"Except for those," Navi admits. "So. Briar. Alex. Given that no one's come charging out of the portals howling for blood, and the lack of the ground caving in under our feet, can I assume everything's going fine inside?"
"More or less, yes," you answer. "The gate's in good condition, and according to Cato, Mars thinks that the connecting gate on Earth is still intact - but he can't be more specific than that."
Navi nods, unsurprised. "So what brings you back out?"
"I wanted to follow up on what I asked you yesterday, about our shadowy interloper. If you've got a minute, that is?" you add, glancing towards the kami and priests.
"As a matter of fact, I do." Navi turns to the small crowd. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, miss."
"Of course, of course."
"Talk amongst yourselves," Abbot Jason adds with a grin.
Everyone gives the Buddhist suspicious looks at that. He is unrepentant.
Navi shakes her head and leads you a short distance away from the group, but while she lowers her voice slightly, she doesn't take any magical precautions against eavesdropping.
"I talked to the Goddesses," Navi begins without preamble. "They're not sure how Dark Link and the Mirror of Shadow ended up this far from Hyrule, although Nayru's grabbed a bunch of the Sages and put them on finding the answer."
You nod.
"As for that face you saw..." The Great Fairy lets out a breath. "They had a LOT to say about that."
And then, she tells you about the Imprisoned.
The Source of Monsters.
The Conqueror of Time.
The Hero's Bane.
Demon King Demise.
Gained Corruption Resistance D (Plus)
Gained Demonology D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Hyrulean Theology D (Plus)
Gained Local Knowledge (Hyrule) E (Plus) (Plus)
...
Well.
Now you know.
And it turns out that all those priests who said Ganondorf was the Spawn of Evil were actually on to something.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
From a security standpoint, there is certainly something to be said for the prospect of casting a Spell of Silence around Navi, Briar, and yourself as you speak on the matter at hand. However, the potential benefits of such a course of action are far outweighed by the level of mistrust it would imply towards the four kami, the priests, and the monks.
They've already agreed to give you your privacy. Dropping an anti-eavesdropping ward would be as good as calling them liars to their faces.
As such, you don't do it, instead simply turning your back and lowering your voice.
You kind of want to sit down, and perhaps whimper a bit at this latest discovery. Or perhaps you could just pass out and not have to deal with the knowledge for a while longer? Laughing is also an oddly attractive option, though that's mainly because the alternative is screaming.
You don't do any of the above, however. Instead, you close your eyes, bow your head, and focus on your breathing.
Empty your mind. Calm your heart. There is nothing but air coming in, holding for a moment, and then going back out.
In, hold, and out.
In, hold, and out.
Sure, the source of the dying curse lurking inside your soul may have been a demon king on par with or even greater than Ganon himself, but that is no reason to freak out.
...
Okay, no, that's a blatant lie. It's an EXCELLENT reason to freak out - but however attractive a course of action it may seem, freaking out will not do anything to help the situation. That was true when Ambrose helped you uncover the nature of the hidden darkness at the heart of your soul, and it's true now that you now where that curse came from and what it DOES.
And on that note, you have to take a moment to marvel at just how horrific it is, to realize that the shadow in your soul is a reflection of a Curse - capitalization VERY much intended - which has been plaguing Hyrule for thousands of years, and which is the ultimate source of not only Ganondorf, but almost every OTHER calamity that has struck the kingdom down through the ages.
Because that's a LOT of ages- and you should be BREATHING, not going off on a tangent. Empty mind, darn it! Empty!
...
You wonder what kind of reaction Ganondorf would have, if he ever found out that he owed his existence to the spite of some ancient sore loser of a Demon King-
Breathing. You were BREATHING.
...
...
Okay. Empty mind achieved.
"Back with us, partner?" Briar asks.
"Yeah, I think so," you answer.
You cast about for something to say, to keep your mind safely occupied, and away from the unsettling prior topic of conversation.
"So, on a completely unrelated note," you find yourself saying to Navi, "is there something about my ability to use Power that reminds YOU of divine energy at all, ma'am? Because several people have asked me if I was a god, lately, some of them servants of ACTUAL divine beings, and just a few minutes ago, the kami that I went inside with looked REALLY surprised when I used a really quick application of Power to make my eyes light up."
Without turning her head, the Great Fairy glances sidelong at the kami, priests, and monks standing not all that far away.
Her wings flutter, slowly, as if caught in a breeze - and as a result, a faint bell-like tinkle fills the air.
"It has to do with how the traces of the Triforce in your system react to that energy-combining technique of yours," Navi murmurs. "When you unite all the different aspects of your being like that, you're expressing the purest and most concentrated form of your power that you possibly can. That action aligns with Din's aspect of Power, and so with the essence of the Triforce of Power that you... inherited... and it becomes much more active as a result. Even if it's just for an instant, you give off a presence that isn't divine itself, but feels like an 'echo' of divinity, if you follow me."
...maybe?
You ask Navi for clarification on a few points, starting with what exactly an "echo" of divinity is.
She tells you it's NOT like you were a demigod, or a more distant descendant of a divine entity. THAT feeling is divinity, just on a much smaller scale - one that diminishes steadily with each successive mortal generation, if not so geometrically as terms like "half-god" imply. The stature and gender of the parents, how the child is raised, what deeds they perform later in life - all these and other factors can affect the potency of their godly lineage.
And none of that is important right now, because you don't have any of it. Your "echo" is exactly what you've always known it was - a consequence of prolonged exposure to a divine relic. The origins and nature of the Triforce left their mark on Ganondorf, and while his transformation into the Demon King of Evil profaned and degraded what the Traceforce COULD have been, the remaining hints of divine potency have passed on to you.
"I honestly can't believe I'm saying this," Navi sighs, wings jingling behind her, "but it's actually a GOOD thing that Ganondorf turned into Ganon, at least as far as you're concerned. If he hadn't, the Triforce's residue in your system would be stronger - possibly strong enough that it'd be evident even when you weren't calling on your full power. And given where you live, that would have been very bad."
On that note, you ask Navi if the Traceforce can be hidden, and whether or not it's dangerous in and of itself - be it to you, or to others.
"It won't harm you," she answers. "At least, not directly. At worst, it'll draw demonic and divine attention if you're careless about when and where you use it. The only way it would be harmful to other people is if they have some demonic or monstrous lineage - and even then, only if it's something that would be weakened by exposure to divine power."
You think about Kahlua, and how your Power almost seemed to burn through her unleashed youki in your fights.
"As to how much harm it does," the Great Fairy continues, "that will depend entirely on how you choose to use it. If you don't intend to hurt someone, you won't - or at least, not beyond their ability to recover from with a little time and rest. If you WANT to hurt them, though, and they're specifically vulnerable..."
...you make a mental note NOT to lose your temper around the Shuzens, or - just to be safe - any of the other monsters you're on friendly terms with. Especially not when you're sparring with any of them in the future - because you're pretty sure you WILL be sparring with them.
"As for hiding it, all I can say is that you should avoid calling on that Power when you don't need it. Subtlety and stealth are... not really Din's thing. That doesn't mean it's impossible that you could learn how to hide your aura," Navi adds, "but it wouldn't be easy. I expect you'd have to master using the Power before you could even begin trying to conceal it."
Finally, you ask Navi if there might be other uses for the Traceforce that you haven't yet discovered.
She smirks. "Besides improving your ability to punch your enemies?"
...yeah, besides that.
"I don't know," she admits. "As I said before, this isn't like a divine heritage that gives you certain abilities reflecting the aspects of a godly parent. It's a remnant of the Triforce, which was MADE to grant wishes. In theory, it could do anything you want it to, if you just give it enough energy - or it might be too weak to go beyond what you've already learned to do. You'll just have to wait and see."
Gained Knowledge of Power E
You've been speaking privately with Navi for several minutes now, and it's starting to push the limits of politeness where your other companions are concerned.
There is ONE more thing you want to talk to Navi about, and that's the weird reactions the group of kami currently inside the base had when you mentioned Din's name.
When you ask her if she knows what's up with that, the Great Fairy snickers.
"I wasn't there to see it, myself, but I heard about it from one of my cousins, who got it from a Summer Lady who was actually there," she begins. "Apparently, Farore dragged her sisters to a place that the local Powers consider neutral ground, and a popular spot for parties. Music, drinking, dancing, the occasional brawl, that sort of thing."
Briar groans. "What did they do?"
"Well, Din challenged every god, goddess, and demon in the place to a dance contest," Navi replies. "Nayru got roped into a drinking contest, and Farore spent the night talking with anyone and everyone who'd spare her five minutes."
"That doesn't sound so bad," you venture cautiously.
"It doesn't, until you know that several of the major kami were at the party," Navi explains. "The storm god got fresh with Din and got his ass kicked for it, Nayru drank the moon god under the table, and Farore and the sun goddess disappeared together and didn't turn up again for the next week. Nobody has any idea where they went or what they did, but rumor has it the first thing the sun goddess did when she got back was punch out her husband."
...
While your knowledge of Shinto mythology is nothing special, you have a pretty good idea which three deities Navi is talking about. You find yourself morbidly curious about what Farore and "the sun goddess" got up to, and profoundly relieved that you didn't mention the Forest Goddess's name where the kami could hear it.
Thanking Navi for her time and counsel, you turn back to the kami and holy men, and consider your next move. After a moment, you nod.
You didn't think of it at the time, but ectoplasm from a spiritual entity you've helped to pass on - such as the ghost of the Memorians' Fae prisoner - would make for a really good spiritual reagent. It's been almost two days since you and the Hakubas exorcised that unfortunate soul from its cell, and the time plus the amount of holy power that was thrown around in that small chamber would have destroyed a lot of potential reagent-grade materials. But something might still exist, especially since the spirit was able to re-manifest to "thank" you before it moved on for good.
Excusing yourself once again, you re-enter the base, this time through the portal that leads to the western section. Once inside, you ask the soldiers on guard if they know whether or not anyone's bothered to clean up the prison section. They're not sure, and your inquiry is passed up the chain of command to Captain Marcus, who replies that - aside from a few soldiers who died in that part of the base, and brought themselves out when he summoned the Legion yesterday - no one's touched anything in that area.
Then he asks what your interest is.
Having already told Marcus about your encounter with the Fae ghost, you explain your little lapse regarding reagent collection.
His response is an amused snort, a muttered, "Sorcerers, I swear," and permission to visit the cell and see if the Fae Lord did, in fact, leave you anything in the way of "repayment" for the service you rendered to him.
It turns out that the ghost did leave something behind. It takes a little work on your part, but between your knowledge of spectral entities and your control over your own spiritual power, you're able to gather the ghostly residue within the cell and compress it into tangible ectoplasm - only about a double-handful of the stuff, which has a faded, silvery-grey hue.
You probably could have collected more of the slimy stuff if you'd done so immediately after the Fae spirit departed for good. That said, what you have gathered hasn't lost any of its potency - really, it's not the ectoplasm ITSELF that's valuable, but the debt the SOURCE of the slime owes you for setting him free.
The passage of a single day wouldn't have reduced that debt.
Gained Parazoology D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Spirit Affinity E
Gained Spiritual Enhancement E
You conjure a plain glass container to hold the translucent goo, stow it in your dimensional pocket, and then use a cantrip to cleanse the sticky film still clinging to your hands.
Gained Ectoplasm
Is there anything else that you feel absolutely MUST be done, before you leave the Memorian Outpost?
Leaving the prison wing of the base, you return to the command center for a final, personal check-in with Captain Marcus. Between confirming that you have what you wanted and have done everything you believe you're currently capable of here, you inquire after how the outpost's wards would interact with the Spell of Sending or other forms of cross-planar contact.
The Captain informs you that the wards are just as problematic for magical messages to get around as they are for spells of teleportation and plane-shifting. This was a deliberate decision on the part of the designers, as they knew it was possible to weaponize certain communication spells - the Spell of Demand is one that comes to mind for you, even if it's currently a bit beyond your ability to cast.
Then Marcus hands you a small, flat disc of worked stone.
"That will act as a pass of sorts, allowing you to send a message through the wards," he explains. "I'll warn you now, though, that we wanted to be able to get rid of these things in a hurry, if it ever looked like they were going to fall into unfriendly hands. The spellwork on them isn't nearly as good as that which went into the arrays, and as a result, it hasn't held up as well. This one will work once for certain, but after that you'll be testing your luck."
Gained Memorian Sending Stone
Pocketing the device, you thank Captain Marcus for his assistance, tell him that you hope to see him again soon, and then depart the command center - this time, heading out the eastern door, and following your assigned escort through the wing of the base which you haven't yet properly explored, to meet up with the rest of the visiting goup at the workshop.
After reuniting with the kami and holy men, you begin to make your way to the exit. Along the way, you cautiously engage Miss Izumi in conversation once again, trying to make sure that she and the rest of the kami aren't TOO freaked out about your association with Din. You kind of want a long-term relationship with these people, and it would be a serious hindrance if they were too spooked by your favorite Goddess (and/or her sisters) to want to associate themselves with you.
As it happens, the possible fountain goddess seems perfectly content to talk to you the same way she was before - as long as you don't bring up the Golden Goddesses. Then she starts getting a little nervous.
"It's not anything to do with you, Young Master Alex," the megami assures you. "It's just that your patrons and my superiors are... well, they ARE my superiors. Significantly so. And it would terribly inappropriate for me to be passing gossip about them."
"Even if it's really good gossip?" Briar asks.
"Yes, even the- ah, that is to say- I mean- oh dear." The flustered kami brings up her hands, hiding her face behind her voluminous sleeves.
Next to her, Izumi's priest looks like someone just smacked him over the head with a live trout. The two nearest kami have turned to stare at their female counterpart in mingled amazement, respect, and concern.
Peering out from above the flowing fabric, Izumi weakly murmurs, "Could we pretend the last couple of minutes never happened?"
Izumi lowers her sleeves far enough to smile at your response. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. But what are you thanking me for, now?" you ask, faking confusion.
"Ah, yes. What, indeed?"
There are no further incidents as your party leaves the base. Once outside, there is a brief gathering, as those who ventured into the warded outpost consult with their counterparts who remained outside. The latter group seems pleased to hear that studying the Memorian gate has given some of the priests (and yourself) a better understanding of planar mechanics, and with that, the hope of being able to return to Faerie under their own power - or even to visit other realms where the injunction against divine intervention that plagues Earth is not enforced.
The news that the portal has an Earth-side counterpart that could be restored is greeted with more of a neutral air by most. After all, it's somewhere in Europe, which makes it a novelty at best for the Japanese members of your party. Only yourself, Briar, Priest Cato, and Deacon James are likely to be directly affected by its reactivation - and even then, the Deacon's involvement will probably be minimal.
Regardless, the kami caution their followers (and you) that their current level of knowledge and power aren't enough by themselves to ensure safe travel across the planes.
"Having an item attuned to the essence of the plane to which you wish to travel is critical," one of the kami says soberly. "And possession of another such item attuned to your home reality is equally vital. They serve a similar function to the compass, providing a frame of reference which you may use to navigate to your intended destination. Well, more or less."
"Unfortunately," a different small god continues, "we cannot simply conjure up the necessary focuses for you to take back to Earth. Creating such things from scratch takes time we do not have to spare just now, and none of us are aware of any existing examples we might... borrow."
"I can create planar keys attuned to Faerie," Cato says, "but the shortest ritual I'm aware of for the process requires a full lunar month - and that's assuming nothing interferes, which is hardly assured. The rite can't be performed under the wards, you see, only outside, and, well.." He makes a gesture of frustration towards the forest.
"That said," the first kami goes on, "planar keys can be found on Earth. You merely need to locate one of the correct attunement, and acquire it."
There's not much else to be said after that. Thanking Cato for his time and assistance, the kami say their goodbyes to their priests - the young goddess is on the verge of bursting into tears as she hugs her aged priest again, and the other kami either can't or just don't bother to hide their own frustration and regrets over the necessary parting.
Giving the Shinto members of the crowd some space, you...
Although it would make good financial sense for you to bring up your business partner when the subject of acquiring magical focuses is being discussed, you decide to keep quiet.
"Advertising to potential new clientele" wasn't part of the terms of your deal with Gen, after all, and there may be good reason for that. For all that the old man clearly enjoys his trade - especially the bit where he makes good money at it - his is a very small, humble operation that mostly deals with a pre-existing, low-profile customer base, plus the occasional curious soul that wanders in off the street.
Bringing the attention of nine kami, their attendant shrines, a couple of Buddhist temples, and the Catholic Church to Gen's shop door MIGHT just be a bit more high-profile custom than he really wants to deal with. Especially when you consider that the holy people in question are plotting what amounts to a rebellion against who- or whatever has the authority to enforce the restrictions on mortal/divine interactions.
Instead, you make a note to talk to Gen about the situation, and see if he's interested in supplying the priests - and yourself - with what they - and you - need.
You're curious about what the young representative of the Catholic Church must be thinking, after all that he's seen and heard in the last couple of hours. Japanese kami, fairies, Faerie, the ghosts of ancient not-Romans, an undead priest of Mars - and oh yes, an eight-year-old American sorcerer who worships alien goddesses.
These are NOT the kind of people a man of the cloth should be associating with, unless it's to convert or condemn them. At least, not so far as you're aware.
You don't have any intention of converting, and being condemned would be... problematic, in light of your long-term goals. Now seems like as good a time as any to try to lay the foundations for a good working relationship with the Church.
Deacon James sees you coming. "Can I help you with something, Mr. Harris?"
"Call me Alex, please, or Alexander. And I was just curious to hear your take on... well, all of this." The sweep of your arm takes in you, your assorted traveling companions, the mesolithic circle that marks the location of the Memorian ruin, and the verdant plane where you all stand.
"Alexander, then. And as for... all of this..." The deacon pauses, and chuckles. "I can safely say that it's not what I was expecting when Ichirou invited me to attend this meeting yesterday."
"What were you expecting, if you don't mind my asking?"
"There's an event coming up that's of concern to the Church and certain parties all around the world," James answers. "One of the more important of those parties currently reside in Japan, but they... aren't on the best of terms with the Catholic Church. Or... Christianity in general. The Hakubas do have good relations with them, and with the Church as well, and they've been acting as our go-betweens for a long time. Longer than both of us put together have been alive, actually."
Only if you don't count your previous incarnations.
"When Ichirou mentioned that something urgent had come up, I thought he was referring to that," James concludes.
Listening to the Deacon, you're pretty sure that "the people that aren't on good terms with the Church" are the Shuzens, and that the "event" in question is Dracula's upcoming resurrection. Seeing as how he missed the day-long meeting of the priests and monks back at the Hakuba Shrine, it makes sense that the young clergyman isn't aware of your connection to the Shuzens, much less the fact that you know about the Dark Lord's impending revival. Hence his lack of specific mention about either.
You could bring it up yourself, but is it really necessary? You don't have any plans to get involved in Dracula's rebirth, and are, in fact, planning to be very much elsewhere, occupied, and warded against accidental involvement while it's going on.
Bringing up your involvement with the Shuzens and your awareness of Dracula's upcoming rebirth really isn't necessary right now. Instead, you decide to ask Deacon James how it is that he's taking the presence of all this supernatural stuff so easily. You're far from an expert on Christian theology, but you're quite sure that the Good Book has things to say on the subject of pagan gods, fairies, and magic - less than complimentary things, at that.
"It certainly helps that this isn't my first encounter with such things," James admits wryly. "The rest of the explanation would require a theological discussion that I don't think we have time for" - he glances at the Japanese crowd as he says this - "so I'll sum it up and say that while the Bible does teach us that there is only one true God, it doesn't deny the existence of other supernatural beings. It simply says that they aren't God, and that worshipping them as if they were is wrong."
He's definitely leaving details out, but fair enough.
"As for the magic," the Deacon adds, "I'll be equally brief and say that just having the ability to perform magic doesn't automatically make someone a sinner, any more than being blessed with great physical ability, a keen intellect, or natural beauty does. There are certain FORMS of magic that are proscribed, and for very good reason, but as long as you aren't practicing one of those, it's a question of what you CHOOSE to do with your abilities, the same as it is for everyone else."
You get the distinct impression that the Deacon would really like to talk to you about this particular detail, but as he said, you don't really have time.
Gained Christian Theology F
Having finished saying their goodbyes - if that's the correct term - the kami step away from their priests, bow to Navi - who returns the gesture - and then again to you - forcing you to quickly reciprocate the unexpected show of respect. That done, the small gods revert from the corporeal avatars they've been using since your arrival in Faerie to the halo-like presences you saw back at the Hakuba Shrine.
Navi opens the gate, and everyone files through. You're among the last to leave the Faerie Realm, having taken the time to observe Navi's magic for further pointers on how to bend the fabric of space, time, and all dimensions to your whim.
Absolutely nothing goes wrong with the return trip. No angry Fae burst out of the woods to attack you, no bolts of divine or demonic power fall from the sky to disrupt the portal or blast those traveling through it, and Navi has no difficulty closing the gate once everyone is through and she's joined you on the Earth side.
You're not sure if the lack of reprisal is a sign that your little meeting flew under the radar, or if it's just that anyone who objects to what was said and done today has decided to keep their thoughts to themselves for the time being.
Much as you'd like to stay and talk with some of these people, you have to be getting home. Thanks and farewells are made all around - including a "tell whoever's going up against Dracula to hit the Dark Lord once for me" that leaves James looking bewildered - and then you join Navi in making your way to the torii.
As you walk, you ask the Great Fairy if she'd be willing to take the Mirror of Shadows to the Goddesses, to have it checked out for any Curse-related contamination.
Navi agrees that this sounds like a VERY good idea, and takes the Mirror off your hands, with a promise to bring it back as soon as the Goddesses clear it.
Once you're clear of the shrine grounds proper, Navi disappears with a glimmer of planar transportation magic, which you once again shamelessly monitor before beginning your own ritual of travel.
You return home safely, and with time to spare.
You take the next couple of hours "off" from work, playing with Zelda and Moblin, and of course, having dinner. After eating, however, you retreat to your Mirror Hideaway to conduct research on the Heart of Courage you won from Dark Link.
What you learn is interesting. Although the Heart Container's aura is primarily Summoning Magic, there are also strong elements of Conjuration, Enchantment, Illusion, and Necromancy involved. On top of that, the Summoning doesn't reach "outwards" to the higher, lower, or sidelong planes of existence like most magic of its type. Instead, it reaches "in" - not into itself, but into its target.
That fits with what Navi said about the Shadow ritual that was intended to allow people to confront their darker impulses. It wouldn't make much sense to call up a spirit - even a Shadow-spirit - that was merely ACTING like the subject of the spell. For the magic to work properly, the target literally needs to face themselves.
And from everything you can determine - at least short of casting the magic - that's exactly what the spell makes happen.
Gained Enchantment C (Plus) (Plus)
The question remains: do you want to cast the Spell of the Dark Self? And if so, who's going to be the target? You're extremely wary of using yourself as a guinea pig for this particular experiment, because based on past incidents, you'd be risking the creation of another incarnation of Ganondorf. And you really, REALLY don't want to do that. At least not right NOW, when you're in your home, and down to about a fifth of your maximum mana.
Given that the Spell of the Dark Self is MEANT to create an equal-and-opposite, less-than-friendly doppelganger of whomever it's cast on, you decide that it would be a very good idea for you to be closer to your full magical strength before you start testing the magic out.
That said, you can see no reason to put off absorbing the Heart of Courage itself. Rather the opposite; even if you're not going to use its power right this minute, you could still learn a few things by monitoring the assimilation process.
You perform the necessary rituals to monitor your condition, and once everything is set, you take the Heart Container in both hands, raise it high, and watch as it transmutes from a crystalline object into a mass of energy, which flows down, around, and through your arms and into your body.
It tingles, but in a distinctly different manner from the Heart Container you won off of the Gohma the other day, or the Heart of Fire you took from Searfang months earlier. And when you examine the playback of your Prying Eyes, you can easily see the difference. Where the vital and elemental variants of the Heart Container spread their energy out through your entire being, the power of this summoning-based form cycled through your body a few times before gathering on the back of your right hand, where the bottom-right third of the Triforce emblem shone with an emerald green radiance that briefly cut through the customary golden glow, before the entire mark once again faded from sight.
Despite the fact that most of its essence now metaphysically overlays your hand, you can feel the assimilated Heart's connection to your mind and your soul, mystical conduits that carry energy and information back and forth between you and it.
It would appear that you haven't truly "learned" the Spell of the Dark Self, the way you did all the other spells at your command. You've simply gained possession and use of an item that has the power to cast the spell for you, and which comes with an excellent anti-theft system.
On the positive side, you don't have to spend days or weeks studying the spell in order to use it, you won't have to expend your own mana to cast it, and the effects of the spell won't be restricted by your understanding and mastery of magic. Also, the information that flows into your mind when you focus on the Heart a certain way confirms your previous suspicions about the nature of this magic - it's as much a form of Conjuration, of outright CREATION, as it is one of Summoning. Consequently, the Dark Self won't be as vulnerable to spells of dismissal and banishment as summoned and called creatures normally are.
On the negative side, because you don't truly "know" the Spell of the Dark Self as yet, you can't modify it in any way, and its effects will be limited by the power and - for lack of a better term - "programming" of the Heart of Courage. From what you can see, those parameters enforce a hard limit on how many Dark Selves you can maintain at one time, which comes to a grand total of one. Furthermore - and this is the really concerning part - because the Spell of the Dark Self is not a true Summoning spell, it doesn't include the behavioral bindings of one.
Thinking on that, you have to admit that it makes sense. For a Dark Self to truly be the manifest "Dark Side" of the original target of the spell, you'd have to let its personality be dictated entirely by the original creature's. Adding behavioral controls on top of the alignment shift would undermine the very purpose for which the spell was developed, and odds are that it wasn't necessary anyway, at least as far as the Sages who originally devised it were concerned.
After all, the Sages WERE the arbiters of all those insane tests the temples were built to house. At least one of them would be there to oversee the trial-by-combat as it played out, and if their shadowy creation threatened to run amuck, they could just end the spell.
So can you, incidentally. Still, you'll have to be careful about not letting any Dark Selves run around behind your back - at least not without building up some trust first, or taking other precautions.
Just because they aren't proper summoned creatures doesn't mean you couldn't magically bind them.
With your experiments on the Heart of Courage completed for the time being, you decide to call it a day, and leave your mirror-walled workshop.
Right before you phase through the glass, Briar wonders aloud, "If the Heart of Courage is basically in your hand... does that mean you'll lose it if your hand gets cut off?"
...
You honestly don't know. Nor are you certain how to go about testing the possibility - even if you were inclined to lop off your own body parts, you don't have the Spell of Regeneration to FIX the damage afterwards.
And THAT line of thought makes for a mildly unpleasant night's sleep.
A few days pass. You spend part of the first one working on the remaining scrolls that you owe Akkiko, and then pop back over to Japan in the afternoon, stopping by Gen's to discuss the business opportunity you discovered.
How much do you tell the old man about what happened?
There's no doubt in your mind. Dealing with the kami in this matter will court the displeasure of whatever force is interfering with their ability to commune with their followers. If you're going to ask Gen to get mixed up in that business, he deserves to know the risks he'd be courting.
So you explain about your trip to Faerie, and the (successful) quest to recover a magic item that will help to purge the insanity from the nine-tailed fox. You briefly touch on the Memorian base, its origins and downfall, and the side-quest you and your allies undertook to aid the ghosts, but that part of the story is mostly a prelude, setting the scene for Ginta's discovery of a significant increase in the level of power the kami of the Hakuba Shrine could exercise in response to his prayers. You describe the day-long gathering of priests, monks, and kami that resulted from this, and the "field trip" to the base that followed. Finally, you state that you and a couple of the more capable priests are interested in acquiring focuses for the Spell of Plane Shift.
Gen listens to it all, making impressed, interested, and alarmed noises at the appropriate intervals. He grows quiet when you explain that something is interfering with the flow of divine power on Earth, and turns thoughtful when you broach the subject of a potential sale.
"Dealing with kami is always a delicate business," the old merchant murmurs, stroking his wispy beard. "Some are perfectly fine customers, but others... well, there are those that expect you to give them what they want at no charge, because they are divine and you are not. Then there are the ones that make most unreasonable demands in addition to whatever you are offering them, and refuse to negotiate - it's their way or the highway, to borrow an American phrase. More are simply never satisfied, and must complain about the quality of your wares, the condition of your store, the manner in which you dress and speak, and a hundred other things. To say nothing of what happens if the kami finds out that you do business with one of their rivals - or worse, an enemy."
You remain silent, letting Gen get all this off his chest.
"Still," he goes on, sighing, "there is reason for all of that, and for bearing with the difficulties to conclude the deal regardless. They ARE kami, after all. Aiding them is only right... and it never hurts to have a little divine goodwill in your corner. Though I hardly need to tell YOU that, I'm sure." He winks at you.
"Does that mean you'll help?"
"It means I shall make inquiries regarding the focus items you have described, Alexander," Gen replies. "If and when I find them - which may take some time, these things do not exactly grow on trees, you know? But if and when I find them, I will see about acquiring some for my own inventory. They will be reasonably priced, and anyone who can meet that price will be free to purchase them. If that happens to be you, a priest, or someone else entirely, then that is just business."
You consider that. It seems like a fair deal... but then again, you have evidence that who or whatever is interfering with people's ability to contact their gods has demonic ties. And that sort aren't likely to accept "it's just business" as an excuse.
Gen's offer strikes you as fair - maybe a little risky for him, if and when whatever's working against the kami becomes aware of his involvement, but the man runs a magical goods store. That's not exactly a risk-free occupation even at the best of times, and yet Gen's managed to grow old and help support his family while doing all the work required to keep his shelves stocked with quality reagents, minor magic items, and other mystical paraphernalia.
If Gen believes that maintaining a neutral business stance will keep him and his safe from retaliation by third parties unknown over who he's done business with and what he's sold them, there's probably a good reason WHY he thinks that way.
Taking you cue from your partner, you nod and dismiss ideas of offering to add to the magical defenses of the shop.
"I'll let the priests know," you tell Gen. "At least, I'll let them know that I've got someone looking for what they need, and that they should start saving up to pay for it. No point bringing divine attention to the shop before then... unless you want them to take a look at your other wares?"
Gen smiles beatifically. "I would not object to such. Word-of-mouth in the community is my best method of advertisement."
Right.
Since you're already at Gen's, you take the opportunity to do a little summoning and item-identification, and also to poke through the shelves. None of the new inventory really catches your interest, but you soon realize that Gen appears to have sold that mote of Light you acquired for him - and when you ask, he turns VERY cheerful.
The mote went for the equivalent of one thousand dollars, American. As per the terms of your partnership, forty percent of that is yours in store credit.
Gained $400 Unspent Credit at Gen's
THAT'S certainly going to come in handy in the future.
With nothing else that needs doing or buying at the moment, you say good-bye to your partner and return home.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully, you spend the following morning finishing up the last of the three scrolls you owe Akkiko. Once the ink has dried and the magic settled into its final, quasi-stable form, you roll it up and stow it in your pocket alongside its two peers, for delivery later this afternoon.
Much later.
You've learned your lesson about time zones.
That decided, you go downstairs for lunch - and also to let your mother know that you'd like to borrow the kitchen for a few hours, preferably without a sister-shaped distraction running around underfoot.
You love Zelda, but the idea of brewing an honest-to-Goddesses magic potion with her standing on a stool next to you, so she can peer into the pot...
...
Okay, it's actually an adorable image. But it's also potentially concerning.
The question is this: would you prefer to have Zelda out of the house for a few hours tomorrow, so you can brew in peace? Or would you rather introduce her (and your mother) to the subtle science and exact art of potion making, under controlled conditions?
Eh, why not? Zelda's old enough to have had the kitchen safety speech by now, and more to the point, she appears to have listened. At the very least, there haven't been any accidents involving stovetops, hot water, sharp and pointy stuff, or any of the myriad of other things that can go wrong with a small, energetic, curious person wandering around a kitchen.
Granted, Zelda's too young to really get much out of watching you prepare a potion - odds are she'll wander off a quarter-hour into it to play with Moblin or watch television, and then come back a while later. Probably about the time where the funky-colored vapors and weird smells start to rise.
Your mother, on the other hand, could learn a thing or two. At the very least, it'll be another step towards getting her familiar and comfortable with the sight of you using magic. At best... well, you're keeping your fingers crossed.
You speak with your mother, and she agrees to let you use the kitchen tomorrow. She also asks what sort of potion you're planning to make, and wonders - with a slightly teasing tone - if she ought to be worried for the cooking pot you're going to be using.
While there's little to no cause for concern about the pot - not unless you REALLY screw up, which is unlikely; it's not a complex or volatile potion - you do wonder about how to answer the rest of that inquiry.
Telling your mother that you're making a Potion of Blindness will assuredly result in her wanting to know WHY you're brewing the liquid form of a curse of sensory deprivation. Going into a detailed explanation about its planned role as the reagent representative of the Element of Darkness in the upcoming Familiar Binding Ritual would certainly help further your mother's magical education, such as it is, but on the other hand, you'd still be admitting that you can and ARE cooking up something that could strike an unwary drinker permanently blind. That might be a bit more than your mother is comfortable knowing, both about magic, and about how you choose to use it.
You could skip the detailed explanation and just say that you need it as a reagent for a powerful spell, perhaps throwing in a promise that you won't use it on anyone. Or you could skip over telling her what the potion actually does, and just call it a reagent.
You tell your mother that you're making another reagent, like the last time you brewed something. You go on to explain about the Familiar Binding Ritual, how you've spent the last half a year or so gathering items to use as representatives of the magical elements, and how you plan to use this potion to symbolize the Element of Darkness.
"It's going to be a very dark liquid, then?" she guesses.
"If brewed correctly, it's solid black," you admit. "It has this... syrupy consistency, too, although it isn't sticky." Shaking your head, you add, "But it's not the color or the thickness of the potion that makes it useful, it's the fact that if someone drank it, it could strike them blind."
She gives you a Look at that.
"I'm not going to use it on anyone, Mom," you assure her. "And I'm going to be careful while brewing it. Besides, if worse comes to worst, I know three different spells that can reverse the effect."
"I'm glad to hear all of that, Alex," she tells you. "But I'm more curious about why you even know how to brew something that can do that to a person at all."
This segues into a discussion about how spells to cause temporary blindness, or to impede, deceive, or alter vision in some other manner, are among the most basic applications of Dark, Shadow, and Light Magic. Scaling the effects up to be effectively permanent is really just a matter of adding power, and since it's always easiest to break things, inflicting blindness doesn't require a lot of extra power.
On top of that, knowing how to cause a certain kind of injury is the flip side of knowing how to TREAT it. You repeat a phrase you've heard your Dad say, about nobody knowing how to mess a guy up like a doctor, and it appears to resonate with your mother - although she replies that most doctors she's met would never get their hands dirty fighting themselves, when they could make the nurses or orderlies do it.
You were kind of expecting that. Mom has Stories about how things are run (and not run) at the hospital, and some of the doctors she's mentioned come across as hybrids of Hylian courtiers and the lowest sort of hedge-mages - arrogant, condescending little worms, convinced that simply because they possess an uncommon and valued skillset, the world and all those in it exist to serve them at their convenience...
...you may be channeling Ganondorf a bit, there. But considering some of the things you've heard your Mom say about some of the people she has to work with, and under, you think it's still an apt comparison.
In any event, Mom's concerns about you knowing how to strike someone blind appear to have been assuaged. You have permission to brew.
Later in the afternoon, you turn your attention to scroll delivery.
The earliest you think you SHOULD pop over to Karakura is three this afternoon, which works out to seven in the morning over there. Later would probably be more polite, given what happened the last time, and of course, you're planning to call ahead to make sure that Akkiko will be there and doesn't mind the visit. Just dropping off the spell-scrolls you've produced won't take more than ten minutes, half an hour at the outside if there's extended courtesies to be made and/or something comes up while you're there. You COULD stay longer, but that would risk running up against your "home by dinner" arrangement with your parents.
Or you could wait until after dinner to visit, make an evening trip of it, and be home before dark.
Eight o'clock sounds like a perfectly reasonable time to visit, as long as you call ahead and get permission beforehand. And seven-thirty or so is an acceptable time to do that, especially since a Sending won't disturb nearly as many people as a phonecall.
So it is that, at about twenty after three, Sunnydale time, you head into the basement, conjure and enter your Mirror Hideaway, and perform the Spell of Sending.
"Miss Akkiko," you say, "this is Alex Harris. I've finished the remaining scrolls. Would you mind if I stopped by to drop them off in thirty minutes?"
And then you wait. As the seconds tick past, you can't help but recall Akkiko's shocked, confused, and "annoyance building, only to be cut short by the word limit" response to your last Sending. Hopefully, this one will go over better, given that the recipient actually KNOWS you have the capability to Send, and isn't being awoken at five in the morning.
"Eight o'clock's fine, boyo," Akkiko's voice replies quietly, over the sound of running water.
A LOT of running water.
Why do you have this sudden sinking feeling?
"Points for not calling at bumblefuck in the morning," she goes on, "and no harm done, catching me in the shower. Unless there's video-"
And the Sending ends there.
You stand in the mirror-walled extradimensional chamber for a moment, blinking at your apparent inability to contact Akkiko at a convenient time. Granted, two points of data do not necessarily make a pattern, but if this happens a third time...
Briar, meanwhile, is laughing.
Ignoring the fairy, you leave your spellcasting chamber, head upstairs, and let your Mom know you have an errand to run, and will be back in time for dinner.
Your trip to Karakura is uninterrupted, and when you appear on the street in front of the Arisawa Shrine, you discover that your precaution of ritually-casting a Spell of Invisibility before you teleported was a good idea. While the morning traffic in this neighborhood isn't nearly as bad as what you've been getting used to seeing outside the Hakuba Shrine, it still exists.
Idly dodging an incoming pedestrian, you wait for an opportune moment, will your concealing spell to end, and then walk into the shrine proper, relaxing slightly as the wards take most of the metaphysical weight of Karakura's heavy spiritual energies off you. You swear, you could almost use the air around here for low-grade spiritual resistance training...
Your train of thought shifts tracks as you catch sight of a girl several years your elder, wearing the customary attire of a miko. It takes only a glance for you to tell that she's an Arisawa - if the physical resemblance to the women of the family you've already met wasn't enough, she's got the spiky hair, although she wears it long and tied back in a tail, eliminating most of the bristliness.
Catching sight of you, the miko that is most likely Tatsuki's big sister blinks in surprise, and then forces a smile onto her face as she bows.
"Welcome to the Arisawa Shrine," she says. "May I be of assistance?"
You consider how to answer. On your last visit - just before you left, in fact - Tatsuki mentioned that the other members of her family knew about "the spooky stuff." She added that her older brother "didn't WANT to know," but didn't have anything to say about her sister's interest, involvement, and/or lack of either regarding the supernatural. She was more focused on avoiding getting teased about having a BOY over to visit.
Your passive senses aren't picking up any obvious indication that this Miss Arisawa has any spiritual power or other active supernatural ability. Granted, Karakura's spiritually-charged environment could be interfering with your readings, even through the screening effect of the shrine wards, but you don't think that's the case.
After all, you remember what Akkiko said to Tatsuki, on the subject of facing Hollows: "...find me, one of your aunts or uncles, or your grandma..."
Odds are that Tatsuki's sister is just doing the expected thing for a daughter of a shrine family.
"Good morning, Miss," you answer, bowing politely. "My name is Alex Harris, and I have a delivery for Mrs. Arisawa. Is she available?"
Tatsuki's sister blinks, clearly a little thrown by your sudden adoption of the manner of a deliveryman.
Idly, you wonder what the Postman would think of your presentation.
Then the older girl shakes off her surprise, and gestures towards the house. "She's right this way. If you'll follow me?"
You do so, and the teenaged miko leads you to the door. You try not to let on that you know the way - which, given that she's trying to engage you in friendly conversation, does take a bit of work.
"So, my name's Arisawa Mio," she introduces herself, "and I have to say, I don't think I've seen you around Karakura before. Are you new in town?"
"Just passing through, Miss," you reply.
"For the delivery, huh?" she guesses. "If you don't mind my asking, is this your summer job, or are you doing someone a favor? I mean, I don't want to be rude or anything, but you look a little young to be working, even part-time. But who sends a twelve-year-old to deliver stuff, unless it's like, groceries or something?" She looks you over. "Where ARE you keeping it, anyway? Unless it's just a letter?"
Chatty young lady, isn't she?
You're spared the need to reply immediately, as you've reached the door. Mio pauses to open it, and calls out, "Mom! You've got a visitor!"
Not the most dignified miko you've met, but Miss Suzuka has a good decade on her in terms of personal maturity, if not actual experience in the role.
"Who is it?" Akkiko calls back, from somewhere upstairs.
Then again, a certain disregard for the manners of polite society seems to run in the family. Some people in the know might blame the family's oni ancestry, but considering that Mio reads as "vanilla human" to your senses, you're inclined to suspect that this behavior was learned by example, rather than an example of non-human inheritance coming to the fore.
Which means that Akkiko is STILL responsi- and wow, you can't even finish that thought with a straight face.
Say instead that Akkiko is still the SOURCE of her daughters' tendency towards casual impoliteness, just for a different reason.
"Someone with a delivery for you," Mio replies. "He says his name's Alex Harris?"
There's a pause, and then Akkiko appears at the top of the nearby staircase. Based on the semi-traditional styles you've seen her wearing before, you're a little surprised by her choice of a casual dark red blouse and brown slacks.
"Hey, boyo. Hope my second-born hasn't talked your ear off, yet."
"Mom," Mio protests. "It was just a couple of questions!"
"My ears are fine, Mrs. Arisawa," you tell Akkiko. Then, with a slight grin, you add, "Though Miss Mio did guess my age wrong by about four years."
There is a pause as mother and daughter look at you.
"Oh gods," Mio groans. "You're sixteen?!"
Akkiko is quick to cover her mouth with one hand, but a "snrk" still manages to escape her attempt at self-control.
Mio catches it, glancing sharply at her mother, who is visibly shaking with poorly-suppressed laughter.
"No, I'm not sixteen," you say, as dawning realization crosses the face of the elder Arisawa daughter. "I'm eight. I wouldn't have been in the same tournament bracket as Tatsuki if I was twelve."
Mio considers that for a moment, turning several interesting colors. Then, having finally settled on a fierce, blushing red, she murmurs, "I think I'll go back to sweeping the yard, now."
And with that, she turns and scurries back out the still-open door.
"Ah, my poor girl," Akkiko sighs, as she descends the stairs. "Still, she really does need to stop jumping to conclusions, and to think before she speaks. Especially about boys."
"Would you like to check the delivery, ma'am?" you inquire, blithely ignoring Akkiko's remark.
"I would, thank you. Come in and have a seat; I'll get you that copy of the consecration ritual I promised."
Your ears prick up at this, and you quickly walk inside.
It turns out that Akkiko and Mio are the only two members of the family at home just now. Mr. Arisawa is at work, and Tatsuki and her brother are both out doing their own things. Once more, you're offered something to drink - cold juice, this time, rather than hot chocolote - and end up sitting across from Akkiko at the dining room table while she pores over your writings. This time around, though, your actions mirror those of the priestess, as you have a sheet of what appears to be traditional rice-paper spread out on the table in front of you, complex characters and elaborate diagrams covering almost every inch of the available surface in a graceful hand.
You find yourself having some difficulty believing that Akkiko actually wrote something so neat and elegant, but the traces of her aura that still cling to the scroll are clear evidence that it IS her creation, and no-one else's.
Shrugging off your surprise, you focus on the details of the spell that have been laid out before you. As you requested, it details how to bless a piece of land - of indeterminate size, incidentally; there's a section that describes how to scale the effect to handle larger or smaller areas - to repel unnatural and especially unholy influences. At least for a time.
It's very similar to a combination of the magics you know as the Spell of Consecration and the Spell of the Sacred Space, but there's a bit more to it than that: specifically, there's a warding-off of more earthly influences, malignant forces connected to nature in ways that demons and the undead are not.
In other words, youkai.
And the spell achieves this defense by calling on the powers of the land, the elements of earth, sea, sky, and more besides, in an interesting mix of magic and spiritual essence.
Suffice it to say, you learn quite a bit from studying this one spell.
Gained Arcanology C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Elementalism B (Plus)
Gained Feng Shui E
Gained Fire Elementalism C (Plus) (Plus) (C without Heart of Fire)
Gained Geomancy E (Plus)
Gained Ice Elementalism E
Gained Knowledge (Shinto) E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Lightning Elementalism E (Plus)
Gained Thunder Elementalism E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Water Elementalism E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Wind Elementalism D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Wood Elementalism E (Plus) (Plus)
Yes, you can definitely see this being a good addition to the Familiar Binding Ritual. Not as a reagent, but as a means of cleansing and settling the site before you lay down Ambrose's ward and begin the ceremony proper. You'll need to do a few calculations to work out how the two spells will interact - a trial run would be best, but you can only invoke the magic bound up in a scroll like this the once, and that tends to destroy the contents, if not the entire scroll.
All things considered, though, you'd say this was a good trade.
Gained Akkiko's Scroll of Consecration
"A spell that conjures a severed hand, another that wards off one of half a dozen different kinds of energy, and some kind of ever-burning fire that doesn't actually BURN anything," Akkiko mutters, before looking up from the pages on her side of the table. "Was there supposed to be a pattern behind your choices, boyo, or did you just pick spells at random?"
"Pretty much at random," you admit, rolling up your new scroll and tucking it away.
Is there anything else you want to do while you're in Karakura, or in Japan in general? It's a quarter after eight, and you've got twenty minutes or so before you need to be getting home.
You're not a wizard. You could study magical formulas and philosophies until your eyes bleed, and not learn a single spell in the process. This isn't to say that such research doesn't benefit you, because it does. Knowing how magic in general functions makes it that much easier to suss out how specific spells work, to recognize the signs of magic AT work when you encounter them, and to identify who - or what - might be responsible for them. Being able to precisely-define the parameters of a spell is also beneficial to you, since it cuts down on unwanted side-effects and secondary manifestations. Or lets you add the ones you WANT to happen.
In the end, though, you are a sorcerer. For you, magic isn't about what you KNOW, but rather, what you FEEL - what you WANT. To truly learn a new spell, you have to experience it in action at least once, preferably under conditions where nothing is trying to kill you, or otherwise draw your attention away from the magic. You CAN fumble through the development of new spells on your own, working it out as you go with any number of mishaps along the way, but watching other people cast is just so much more efficient.
Looking back at your lessons with Briar, it's actually kind of fortunate that - healing aside - she can only perform relatively minor feats of magic. If she'd been more powerful, back before you got even a basic ward of concealment up around your room, odds are someone in Sunnydale's supernatural community would have noticed the spellcasting going on in your house.
This in mind, you ask Akkiko if she'd object to demonstrating the spell that's written down on the scroll, just once, in exchange for you doing the same.
She winces. "Sorry, boyo. I get where you're coming from, and if it were a different spell, I probably wouldn't mind, but that particular bit of magic isn't something I want to sling around in Karakura without good cause. It makes the spooky side jumpy - and curious."
...it would, wouldn't it? Granted, there's a difference between a lingering soul and a full-blown ghost, but it's mostly a matter of malice - and from what Akkiko's said, the Hollows certainly have malice covered. And seeing as how Shinigami are supposed to HUNT Hollows, it would make sense for them to investigate events that could stir up the hungry ghosts.
You ask Akkiko what would constitute "good cause."
"I normally cast it when someone's got a new building that needs dedicating," she explains. "Or when there's an older building that's been renovated or completely rebuilt. The ghosts don't exactly enjoy it, but they're used to it - it's tradition, after all." The priestess studies you for a moment. "I've got a couple upcoming events on my calendar, but not until after Obon. I got the impression that'd be a little late for your needs."
True enough.
While you experience a brief temptation to look for a candy store, it's easy enough to quash. You wouldn't venture into unfamiliar parts of Sunnydale for such a petty reason, not even in broad daylight, so why would you take the risk here in Karakura, where there are similar - albeit non-demonic - threats to life, limb, and soul lurking about?
Besides, you don't have any Japanese yen on your person. It'd make buying things kind of impossible, unless the cashiers were set up to convert foreign currency. And what are the odds of that?
Thanking Akkiko again, you make your way out of the Arisawa house, off the shrine grounds - Mio acknowledges you with a polite nod as you leave, but doesn't speak again - and back onto the sidewalk. In light of the steady foot and vehicle traffic, you don't cast a Spell of Invisibility once you're clear of the shrine grounds; instead, you fall back on the spell you threw together to make people ignore you bringing Moblin to school.
Making curious students and rule-obsessed teachers ignore a big, ugly dog that was sitting in the room with them for hours on end? Tricky, but doable, especially with the Hellmouth's odd effects on human consciousness and self-preservation instinct backing your efforts up.
Making complete strangers ignore a kid walking down the street for a few minutes? Much easier. And like in Sunnydale, the mystical weirdness hanging over Karakura seems to encourage regular folks to ignore the strange and unusual.
You definitely count.
Once you're sure that everyone's eyes are sliding past you, you make with the Ritual of Teleportation, and return home.
When you awaken the following morning, it's to the pleasant sensation of a completely refilled magical reserve - something you've had to do without for the last few days, due to your magic-intensive battle with Dark Link.
You take a few minutes just to enjoy being back at full power, before finally hauling yourself out of bed.
Breakfast and morning ablutions come first, but after that, there's brewing to be done.
You've just come down the stairs when the doorbell goes off. Seeing as how you're closest - your mother has Zelda in the kitchen, and your father's in the shower - you call out that you'll get it, and head down the hall.
Peering outside, you have to blink.
It's the Postman, in all his track-suited, flag-bearing, wing-heeled, pointy-eared glory.
You suppose it could be worse. At least he isn't glowing, or otherwise giving off any hint of a celestial presence. Actually, if you reach out with your senses - and you DO - he feels almost like a completely ordinary human.
Almost.
"Good morning, Postman," you greet him.
"And a good morning to you, Mister Harris," the celestial Hylian returns with a smile. "I have two packages for you, special delivery. One from the Church, with their apologies for the delay, and one from the Great Fairy of the Lost Woods."
The first "package" is nothing but two pieces of silk, wrapped about three large, heavy-looking books and bound at the top by a gold-leaf seal that stirs an unpleasant sense of recognition - one you're quick to suppress. The second, in contrast, seems to be made out of several large leaves, folded over each other and tied with strands of ivy.
"If you'd care to sign?" the Postman says, holding out a clipboard with an attached pen.
You accept the clipboard and quickly read through the contents.
...
It looks pretty straightforward. The Royal Postal Service (Celestial Branch) seeks confirmation that these deliveries have reached their intended recipient, and is requesting a signature for their records, which are strictly confidential and accessible only by members of the service, unless or until one of their customers sends something on the list of prohibited items.
You give the attached list a once-over, and almost immediately notice a few potential issues.
It's illegal to use the mail service to post poisons, diseases, curses, monsters, explosives, or magic items without special permits - which the list doesn't say how to go about acquiring - or direct authorization from the royal family or a Sage.
Shipping national treasures and religious relics around is likewise prohibited, unless the royal family, the church, and/or a Sage give the go-ahead.
Using the mail to move reagents is okay, as long as they aren't actively magical themselves - though there's an addendum that this is still not recommended, and that the Royal Postal Service will not be held accountable for any loss of potency exhibited by said items due to shipping and handling.
You glance at the Postman. "Out of curiosity, does a Great Fairy have permission to ship some of the things on the restricted list?"
"They're treated as holding Sage rank," the Postman nods. "At least as long as they haven't violated TOO many of the ordinances. Lately."
Somehow, that doesn't make you feel any more secure.
"And has Navi done anything that would have violated the rules?" you inquire. "Lately?"
Briar draws herself up as if to say something, then stops, sighs, and settles back down.
"No, the Great Fairy of the Lost Woods is still in good standing with the Service," the Postman confirms.
Good to know.
With your concerns satisfied, you finish reading over the list of prohibited items and actions. There's a sub-section of areas the Royal Postal Service does not cover deliveries for, but it's pretty sensible: Death Mountain caldera; the Lost Woods; the Gerudo Desert; the Sacred Realm; Hell-dimensions; that kind of place. Basically, locations that are actively dangerous, and/or impossible to enter (or exit) without being a powerful magic-user or an epic hero.
...speaking of heroes, you're vaguely amused to note that the second-last line on the list is a note that any and all of the above restrictions are waived for an officially-recognized Hero of the Realm.
Then you read the VERY last line on the sheet, which states that - by order of the Crown, the Church, the Sages, and the Postmaster General - the Royal Postal Service will have no dealings with any Dark Lords, Dark Sorcerers, Demon Lords, Demon Kings, Demon Sorcerers, Great Demon Kings, Thief-Kings...
Basically, it's a list of every title Ganondorf ever held, or MIGHT have held. And a few that probably belonged to some of the other big-name bad guys that have caused problems for Hyrule down through the ages - and you know there were a few, even if you don't know much about them.
Ganondorf wasn't particularly interested in learning about his predecessors, or "heirs."
Given what you've recently learned about Demon King Demise, that may have been a serious mistake on the Gerudo King's part.
Aside from that last part, you see nothing else in the delivery sheet that should be of concern. And you're not terribly worried about the injunction against letting Ganondorf use the mail. You're his reincarnation, not the man himself, and nowhere in that list of titles is it even hinted at that the Postman and his peers are forbidden to deliver things for reborn souls, regardless of who or what they were in their last lifetime(s).
Besides, you have the Goddesses on your side. You're pretty sure Goddess ranks royalty, churchman, and Sage, all in one go.
No, the only issue here is the pen. You haven't touched it yet, and for good reason; you can sense the minor enchantment worked over and into the implement. The pen is designed to draw upon your aura and imbue it into your signature, adding an extra layer of authenticity and security to your dealings with the Royal Postal Service... and also giving them a sample of your magical aura to compare against their records.
You can't help but be reminded of the demon that came to your preschool a couple years ago, to administer that test for magical talent. It's not a pleasant association to make with anyone or anything coming from Hyrule.
Then again, your personal understanding of and control over your magic has improved by leaps and bounds in the last couple of years. You might be able to suppress your magical aura entirely, at least long enough to render the pen's secondary function moot and sign your name. You could also try to signal Briar that you need her to run interference again, although given the consequences last time and her obvious dislike of them, you're a bit reluctant to ask that of your partner.
Or you could just sign your name, trust in the Goddesses - and the Royal Postal Service's confidentiality clause - and hope that they don't have any samples of Ganondorf's magic signature laying around. Or that, if they DO have said samples, your aura is different enough not to set off any alarms.
Failing that, the only other approach you can see working is to cast a cantrip to "write" your signature for you, while faking the motions with your hand and the pen - and keeping the board elevated enough to prevent the Postman from seeing what you're doing.
You glance at the enchanted pen, and then ask the Postman if he would mind you using one of your own to sign.
"We do have a policy of allowing exemptions," he admits, "as long as a member of the Service is willing to vouch for the recipient in question." The Postman flashes you a bright grin, and then dons a sober expression as he pulls out a small notebook and pen. "For the official record, Mister Harris, what is the nature of your objection to providing a magical signature?"
With the Postman scribbling away, you proceed to explain that, given where you live and some of the hazards you've either run into in person or just heard about from trusted sources, you're very, VERY reluctant to let anyone get their hands on your magical signature. And you do mean ANYONE, you add, briefly recounting your near-miss with the demon from the Department of Education.
The scratching of the Postman's pen trails off as he stares at you in horror.
"That's... um. Yeah. That would be a better reason than most I've heard," he admits.
Since the official employee of the organization whose documentation you're about to put your name to has no argument against it, you produce a pencil from your dimensional pocket and sign your name with it, and WITHOUT a magical imprint.
The Postman takes back his clipboard, hands over the packages, and tips his hat.
"A good-day to you, Mister Harris, Miss Briar. I'll see you next summoning."
Then he turns, and dashes off.
Gained Hyrulean Holy Books
Regained Mirror of Shadow
You close the door, and head for the kitchen.
"Who was that, Alex?" your mother asks.
"Just the Postman, dropping off a couple of things for me," you answer, entering the dining room.
Your mother looks at you from behind the counters, and blinks at the sight of the books and the leaf-wrapped Mirror.
"Oh," she replies. "THAT Postman."
You just nod, while deciding what to do with your packages. The Mirror is one thing, as you handed it over to Navi so that she could take it back to the Goddesses to be inspected for any lingering Curse-related issues. If it's here, now, it must have passed their tests. There might be a message written on, wrapped up in, or enspelled into the leaves, but you can wait until later to check for such things.
The books, on the other hand... you've been waiting for these for some time, now, thanks to the Hyrulean Church's delayed response to your request.
Idly, you wonder if you should have asked the Postman about what happened to that missing high clergyman.
Then you shrug. You can always ask him the next time you summon him.
It's probably not that important anyway.
Part of you wants to crack open your newest books and get reading, even if it's just to give them a quick once-over before you get on with today's scheduled business. Instead of doing that, however, you slip the three tomes into your dimensional pocket, alongside the leaf-wrapped Mirror.
The books aren't going anywhere, and you've still got a week left before the eclipse. That should be enough time to read them in, unless the text inside is VERY tiny, or the remaining items on your schedule run longer than expected.
And if all else fails, you can always use magic to "read" the books faster. Or just ask Navi for pointers on how to arrange the upcoming ceremony in a manner pleasing to the Goddesses.
Putting those thoughts aside with the holy texts, you sit down for breakfast.
After the morning meal and your father's departure for Uncle Rory's shop, you help your mother clean up and put away the dishes, while taking out what you'll need to brew.
"Are you making cookieth, Mommy?" Zelda asks.
"Actually, Zelda, I'm not making anything. Your brother is."
Zelda immediately turns to you, hope in her eyes. "Are YOU making cookieth, Alexth?"
"I'm going to make a magic potion," you reply, carefully avoiding the word, 'No.'
Your sister's face lights up. "Really!?"
"Yes, really."
"Can I help?" she offers eagerly.
While you're pleased to see such interest from your sister, it doesn't change the fact that she is still a couple of weeks shy of her third birthday. There really isn't much she CAN contribute to this task. Still, there must be SOMETHING you could ask her to do that would make her feel like part of the project, beyond just "sit there quietly, watch closely, and listen carefully."
Can you think of anything for Zelda to do while you brew?
Once you have the pot and other implements out, the first thing supernatural step of the brewing process is to cast a couple of spells to scourge them of any contamintants - mundane as well as magical. It's no slight to your mother's housekeeping skils, modest as those are; it's just a good habit to get into where potion-brewing is concerned.
Next, you lay the reagents you picked up at Gen's out on the counter, explaining to your audience what each one is, and what purpose it serves in the overall potion. A night-blooming flower provides an association to the element of Darkness, a handful of graveyard soil makes a good link to the school of Necromancy. Then there's the dried eyes, for the symbolism of what you're trying to affect.
Zelda makes a sound of delighted disgust at this, while your mother comments on the classic "eye of newt."
With all due respect to Shakespeare, Macbeth, and the Weird Sisters, you're not using eye of newt, because newts possess a respectable regenerative factor that allows them to regrow their eyes, among other body parts. Such a reagent would be an excellent inclusion if you were brewing a potion meant to CURE vision problems - a task that is entirely within your ability to do, incidentally - but since the potion that you're making is intended to INDUCE blindness, adding eye of newt would be counterproductive.
Also, many newts are toxic if consumed, and that's a quality you don't need to add to today's brew.
Poison's more of a Shadow thing than outright Dark, anyway. Especially once you get into medicine.
Anyway, instead of going with the classic, you're using eye of rat - specifically, eye of brown rat. Their vision is pretty terrible in most respects, which strengthens the tie to blindness, and their nocturnal nature and traditional association with disease reinforce the link to Darkness.
There's a few other ingredients besides, but those are the big ones.
You also have a simple glass vial to hold the completed potion, one of a set that you picked up at Gen's for your potioneering needs. You'd toyed with the idea of going with plastic containers, if only to not have to worry about your potion vials breaking - they are just common, non-Hylian glass, after all - but Gen didn't carry any plastic containers in stock.
When you asked about that, your partner explained that glass is still the standard in potion-storage because it has centuries, if not millennia of tried, tested, and proven reliability as a method of storing magically-active compounds. The oldest plastics, such as rubberized tree sap, have similarly well-understood properties, but the stuff that's been produced over the last century or so is still too new and too poorly-researched for most people to consider trustworthy.
Also, a lot of the really traditional magical sorts just don't like it. Hence the lack of proper study.
Even leaving that aside, Gen added that there are a LOT of different brands of plastic on the market, each with a different chemical formula, and thus, each likely to have different reactions to different magical susbtances. He has neither the time nor the skills necessary to cross-check EVERY type of plastic container against EVERY single piece of his inventory, and he isn't about to risk his health or his business in such a manner when it's so much more convenient to just go with glass.
On a related note, after talking with Gen, you felt the need to check on the ointment you whipped up as a reagent for the Spell of True Seeing. Fortunately, you appear to have lucked out; the stuff hasn't lost any potency, transmuted into an unexpected form, or just eaten through the Tupperware.
Maybe it just isn't magically reactive enough, or Tupperware is actually a safe medium of storage for magical substances?
Something to test later, you suppose.
For right now, there's brewing to be done.
How can you say no to an offer like that?
Gained Big Brother E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
"Sure!" you reply with a grin. "You can start by getting some water."
You look through the measuring cups, pick out the smallest measure - which Zelda should be able to hold without issue once it's mostly-full of water - and hand it over.
"Here. Fill that up to the top mark for me."
"'kay!"
Zelda takes the cup and bounces over to the sink, where your mother has already slid a stepping-stool over for her, and obligingly turns on the tap.
While that's going on, you review your recipe. There are portions of the potion-making process that you have to do yourself, simply because you and Briar are the only ones here who have both the talent and training for the task - and Briar is too small. Preparing the plant-based ingredients is, unfortunately, one of those things, which means you can't ask your little sister to help you with the simple task of tearing up leaves.
Still, there are a few things Zelda could do besides fetching water.
You take a piece of paper out of your dimensional pocket and cast a simple cantrip, transfering the recipe in your head to a written form.
Zelda brings you the water a moment later, and you send her back for another - and then another. She obliges without a word of complaint, her expression eager and intent as she watches the cup fill, ordering your mother to turn the water on and off.
She even manages not to spill anything.
Once you have enough water, you hand Zelda the sheet of instructions, and tell her to help your mother read the recipe off to you - and also to keep an eye on Moblin, just in case he gets nosy.
You don't think he will, but Zelda accepts the added responsibility with a determined nod.
Then you get to work.
The preparatory phase of creating the Potion of Blindness takes most of an hour, and Zelda is present for the entire process, repeating the instructions your mother quietly reads off for her. Even with the added difficulty presented by Zelda's lisp, as well as your own pauses to explain what you're doing and why, the whole process goes smoothly. The potion takes on the expected midnight hue and thick, syrupy consistency.
It'll take a few more hours at a low boil for the mixture to reach its full potency, but you are essentially done.
Gained Potion of Blindness
"Ith that it?" Zelda asks, wrinkling her nose as she looks at the dark liquid filling the pot.
"That's it," you agree.
Your sister frowns, and renders her judgment: "It lookth boring."
You glance at the thick, dark, bubbling potion, and have to admit that she isn't wrong. It doesn't look like much to the magically-unaided eye, and it doesn't smell like much, either - the scent of the flower wasn't very strong to start with, and has largely been absorbed and neutralized by the soil and other ingredients.
In this case, though, boring is a good thing. It means you did everything right. In potion-making, the most interesting brews are usually the result of mistakes - and those can get dangerous.
You've got a couple of hours to watch a pot boil. As this is not a task that requires your undivided attention, merely your presence and mindfulness, you could probably get started on reading your new books, or seeing if Navi sent you any messages along with the Mirror.
Or, given the frowny little sister in the room, maybe you should do something else?
Zelda thinks the potion is boring. You don't think she'd be saying that if she could see the reactions that are taking place on the magical level.
So why not give her the ability to do just that?
You turn to your mother, and ask if she's okay with you casting the Spell to Detect Magic on your sister, so that she can see what makes your potion special. You also offer to cast the same spell on your mother, so she can see what Zelda sees.
Your mother considers that, and then agrees.
"Alexth ith gonna do magic?!"
You already were...
You have to modify the magic slightly, as the Spell to Detect Magic normally only works on the caster, but that merely bumps it up from a cantrip to a first-circle spell. Two quick castings - the first one on your mother - and it's done.
"Oooh," Zelda exclaims, staring at the potion. "It'th pretty..."
It is. Your own Mage Sight shows you the aurora of energies swirling within the slow-boiling pot, the nightshade hues of Necromancy and Elemental Darkness dominant, but accompanied by traces of the other forces present in the reagents you used. There is a definite pattern to the flow of that power, one which is becoming more defined with each passing moment, but right now it's shot through with brief, tiny starbursts, as the more actively-conflicting essences in the mix come into contact and neutralize each other.
Seen from above, it's almost like looking down on a small, dark galaxy, adrift in space. Zelda isn't tall enough to view it from that angle, but you easily solve that by picking her up and letting her ride on your shoulders. You also explain for her and your mother what it is that they're seeing, and what all the different colors and patterns of "light" actually mean.
The Spell to Detect Magic is just a cantrip, after all. While it reveals magical energy, it doesn't do much in the way of actual analysis - that is left up to the spellcaster's own knowledge. Neither your mother nor your sister actually HAVE that knowledge, but you do your best to make up for their effectively (or in Zelda's case, entirely) non-existent magical educations.
Gained Teaching D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
After a couple of minutes, Zelda begins to lose interest in the neat glowy thing on the stove, and begins tugging at your shirt and lightly kicking her legs, saying "Horthey! Alexth, horthey ride!"
You take this as a cue that little sister's magical learning time is over for now, and dismiss the spells.
Following one quick "horthey ride" around the house, you put Zelda down, telling her that you need to stay in the kitchen to keep an eye on your potion, and do some other boring stuff for a while. The loss of equestrian adventures draws some disappointment, but mention of the dreaded "B"-word sends Zelda scampering off to play elsewhere. Your mother waits long enough to remind you to be careful around the stove before going after her youngest.
With the kitchen to yourself and Briar, you take a seat at the table and take out the Mirror of Shadow. You spend a moment considering the leaves and ivy wrapped about the relic; while you don't recognize the species, the leaves are thick enough that they could serve as a reasonable protective layer against the Hellmouth's corruption, as long as the exposure was kept brief. A precaution on Navi's part, you suspect.
A minor spell unbinds the vines, and when you've pulled all the greenery away, the Mirror is revealed, almost exactly the same as when you handed it over to Navi. There's a secondary magical aura clinging to it, but you recognize Navi's signature immediately - and a moment later, you hear her voice.
"The Mirror is clean," the Great Fairy says. "Nayru cautions, 'Use it wisely.' Farore says, 'Be careful.' Din says, 'Ignore the worrywart and the hypocrite, and kick butt.'"
As the message-spell fades, you have to wonder: does that count as a divine decree?
...maybe you'd better read those books, now. Just to be sure.
You put the Mirror back in your pocket, and after a moment's thought, stash the leaves there as well.
Gained Fairy Leaves
You never know what might come in handy.
With the table cleared, you get out your new holy books, break the seal, untie the silk ribbon, and crack open the first volume.
You aren't surprised to see characters of a familiar-looking language spread over the pages within.
"Is this Hylian, Briar?" you ask, turning the volume for your fairy companion's consideration.
She looks. "Yup. Want me to read it for you?"
You consider that. It WOULD get around the risks of trying to learn a language that Ganondorf was fluent in. Still, those are some pretty big books - and even though the text is quite a bit bigger than modern books, there's still plenty of it to be read.
Besides, you're eight years old. The idea of needing to have someone read out loud to you is kind of embarrassing.
Even with that said, you're still reluctant to just cast the Spell to Comprehend Languages to learn (or re-learn) how to read Hylian. It's a minor spell, and it doesn't bestow full fluency like the Spell of Tongues would. You're semi-certain Ganondorf never actually read the scriptures himself, so you MIGHT be able to cast the spell and read the holy books without stirring his memories up too much.
And then again, you might not.
The only other option that comes to mind is developing a spell to transcribe and translate the writings in the books, but while that is definitely within your abilities, working out the particulars of the magic would take time - too much of it, you suspect, for you to use these writings as a guideline in the upcoming Familiar Binding Ritual, like you'd planned.
Although you realize that you'll probably need to risk learning the Hylian language for yourself one of these days, you'd honestly prefer to put it off at LEAST until you have a reliable means of pushing back Ganondorf's influence on you. And it's not like there's anything FORCING you to learn the language right this instant.
Rather the opposite, really.
You fight down the immature impulse to protest that you're a big boy and don't need someone else to read to you, thank Briar for her offer, and open up the first of the holy books, using the other two as a simple stand to hold it upright so that your fairy companion can land on the table and read it.
For the next few hours, you keep one eye on your developing potion, while devoting the bulk of your attention to Briar's voice. The translation from the formal dialect of Hylian used in the books to modern English requires a certain amount of effort on the fairy's part, but she maintains an admirable pace. Even pausing every so often to clarify a section of the scripture, or to take a sip of water from one of the tiny cups that came with her house (courtesy of Kokoa Shuzen), she's done with the first book by the time your Potion of Blindness is complete.
In those hours, you hear a re-telling of the Creation Myth of Hyrule, a suitably legendary and doubtlessly heavily-edited account of the foundation of both the Kingdom and the Church that serves it, and the story of Ganondorf - from the Church's perspective.
You're familiar with the saying that "history is written by the victors," but it's one thing for a nation or religion to demonize a defeated enemy, and quite another when that enemy turns HIMSELF into a LITERAL demon, as Ganondorf did. For all its flowery language and sermonizing, the Hyrulean Church's account of the Downfall of the Old Kingdom, the Death of the Hero, and the Sealing of the King of Evil strikes you as positively FACTUAL.
Some of the later events, though, get... murky. You're pretty sure that, between the era of the slain Hero and what the text describes as the "final defeat" of the "Prince of Darkness," there were at LEAST two whole revivals of Ganon which simply aren't mentioned in the book. It does have a great deal to say about the latest incarnation, which was shortly before the reunification of the Triforce and the restoration of the Kingdom - something for which the Goddesses are repeatedly praised, as are "their agents," in the form of the Princess - now Queen - Zelda, the Hero Reborn, and...
...wait, Princess Zelda again?
What?
Briar has to explain that bit to you. Apparently, the latest Link used the Triforce to break a curse of eternal sleep that had been laid upon a long-ago Princess of Hyrule by a forgotten sorcerer.
When you tell Briar that you remember BEING that sorcerer, she's not terribly surprised.
"It DOES sound like the kind of thing Old Pig Face would do," she admits.
She's a bit less sanguine about your explanation that the long-dead Hero-King kept the shade of the Lord of Darkness around as an advisor. It's... creepy, and really not the sort of thing she'd associate with anybody named Link.
You can't offer any explanation for it, yourself, at least not without delving deeper into your inherited memories. What little you do remember of that period has Ganondorf being just as perplexed by Link's reasoning as Briar is right now, and a great deal more ticked-off about it.
Then again, anger seems to have been your pre-incarnation's default setting, even when he WASN'T going on a mindless destructive rampage.
It's telling that there is no mention whatsoever in the holy bok of any "Demon King Demise," nor of a Curse descended from such an entity. GANON is certainly referred to as a Curse, an affliction, and a calamity upon the Kingdom and her people, but HE is the one that is considered to be the source of all evil within Hyrule. The holy book also makes no mention of Ganondorf being the Chosen of Din - it doesn't even HINT at an association between the Gerudo King and the Golden Goddesses, instead heavily-emphasizing his role as thief, betrayer, usurper, and demon.
All in all, the first volume of the Hyrulean Holy Texts strikes you as more of a history book than anything else. There are a few prayers scattered throughout - mostly to do with mourning, the warding-off of evil, and giving thanks for rescue from the same - but on the whole, it's less about WHAT duties the Church performs and HOW it does them, than it is about WHY the Church exists in the first place.
Which is fair enough. Knowing the "why" of things is important, if you want them to make any kind of sense.
Gained Local Knowledge (Hyrule) E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
You take a break to give Briar's voice a rest, put away your completed Potion of Blindness, clean up the leavings of your brewing session, and of course, have lunch.
After lunch, you retreat to your room, where you take a few minutes to review the first volume of the Hylian scriptures with Briar, and make written copies of the various prayers that were mentioned in the book. You keep that list out as Briar proceeds to read the second book to you.
Where the first book contained a sweeping look at the long and often-forgotten history of Hyrule, this one proves to be focused on the teachings of the Church. It describes the virtues championed by the Golden Goddesses, and how each one applies to everyday life. It discusses the elements that make up the world, the associations each holds, and how those should be pursued or avoided by the common man. It speaks of commoners and soldiers, nobles and clergy, Sages and Heroes, and what duties a member of any one class has - towards others, towards the Goddesses, and towards himself.
The writings of many holy men fill the pages of this book, providing moral instruction, philosophical interpretations of older writings, and a certain amount of purely practical guidance on calling upon the power of one or more of the Goddesses. Not actual spells, mind you - this isn't an arcane grimoire, after all - just pointers on how an aspiring acolyte can get his mind and spirit "in tune" with the divinity whose aid he seeks.
On a related note, you're amused by the way the author makes repeated entreaties for aspirants to exercise patience, determination, and caution when following the Path of Power - because as you already knew, Din doesn't hand out Power for the asking, not even to her most faithful. Every one of those repeated calls for good judgement is accompanied by at LEAST one cautionary tale, regarding this acolyte or that full-fledged priest dedicated to the Goddess of Power, who over-reached themselves in the course of building, testing, and proving their abilities.
Some of the stories are funny, in a guilty, "I'm glad that's not ME" kind of way. One of the tamer ones is the story of the Goron who tried to learn how to swim, and - after sinking under his own mass on numerous occasions - resorted to using Bomb-assisted flotation.
Those poor fishermen.
Others are just... dumb. Like the Zora who sought to overcome his people's weakness to freezing temperatures by "taking the primal essence of Din's most sacred Fire unto himself" - in plainer language, he threw himself into Death Mountain.
WITHOUT a flame-proof Tunic.
A few of the tales are genuinely scary, in that you can hear echoes of Ganondorf's methods and motivations in the words Briar is reciting for you.
You try not to think too hard on those examples. No sense in stirring up bad memories, right?
...
Gained Hyrulean Theology D (Plus) (Plus)
Anyway, you're about two hours into this particular book when suddenly-
"Hello?" a voice calls from RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR EAR.
-there is an interruption.
Fighting down your shock at this sudden and unexpected communication, you avoid giving a surprised start or exclamation, let alone more serious reactions like jumping in place, and potentially falling out of your chair.
Instead, you focus on the voice, looking around with all your senses to try and find the source.
You immediately sense the aura of something that LOOKS like a Spell of Sending, except that instead of mortal or elemental mana, it's composed almost entirely of divine energy. The power in question is faint enough that you're only able to "read" it because it's focused on you.
Someone and their god have taken the time to make sure that this message stays under the proverbial radar, even on the Hellmouth.
"Is this thing working?" the voice, which you recognize as Hakuba Koujiro's, goes on. "Oh, there's a word limit?"
As the priest clears his throat, you find yourself feeling a sudden swell of sympathy for Akkiko. If THIS is what it's like to be on the receiving end of your Sendings, you may need to look into re-working the magic a little, for the sake of politeness. It already has a target-recognition function, you just need to tweak that slightly so it lets said target signal whether or not they're ready to receive the message...
"Alex, this is Koujiro. Please stop by the Shrine at your earliest convenience. See you-"
And the message ends.
So, it seems like the Hakubas and their kami have worked out how to perform a Sending. Possibly as a consequence of everything that happened in Faerie recently.
That's convenient.
Startling, but convenient.
And they even managed not to scare you awake in the middle of the night! A most admirable effort for a first-time casting!
...
Incidentally, you are not jealous.
Reflexively checking the time, you see that it's about ten after three in the afternoon - roughly seven o'clock in Japan. Factoring in an hour for travel-time, and you have enough time before supper to spend an hour checking in with the Hakubas, if you need it.
Before that, though, you have the option of Sending a short response to Koujiro. No more than twenty-five words.
For no reason that you can readily explain, you feel the sudden impulse to response to Koujiro's Sending with a haiku. For better or worse, however, you don't know much about poetry, let alone that specific form of it - certainly not enough to whip up a proper haiku in the brief window you have, before the Spell of Sending assumes you aren't going to reply and dissipates.
Maybe another time.
"I'm on my way," you answer. "See you in half an hour."
Heading downstairs, you tell your mother that you need to make a quick trip to Japan. When she asks why, you explain that one of the priests just called you, via magic.
She frowns. "Is that... allowed? Priests using magic, I mean?"
"It depends on the religion, and the kind of magic," you answer frankly. "In this case, the priest basically asks for a favor from the god he follows, and then repays it with acts of faith and devotion: prayers; looking after the shrine; good works in the god's name; and all the other things a priest is supposed to. If the priest is in good standing and the god agrees to the request, the magic happens. So it's fine."
Your mother's expression says she isn't entirely convinced about that, but she agrees to let you go, as long as you're back by dinnertime.
Slipping out of the house under invisibility, you zip through Sunnydale's streets at an easy, low-end Ki Enhanced pace - one that is just strong enough to push the Ki Step Technique you have going at the same time. This isn't really how the latter skill is meant to be used, and if you want to improve it further, you're going to need to find more unstable surfaces to walk or run across. Still, learning how to employ Ki Step at low-end superhuman speed is definitely not a waste of time, and may well come in handy in the future.
Gained Ki Step D (Plus) (Plus)
Once you're outside the town limits, you open up the throttle, taking the opportunity to test out your Ki Overload skill. You still don't manage to conceal the side-effects, but your personal radiant aura is difficult to notice under the bright afternoon sun, and you're far enough from Sunnydale that nobody and nothing else is around to sense the more mystical elements of the technique at work.
Gained Ki Concealment C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Overload D (Plus)
Twenty minutes and one ritual teleport later, you're back at the Hakuba Shrine. You're not the only visitor; Hayashi Asamu has also turned up, and this time he's brought company, in the form of an ageless-looking woman wearing old-fashioned robes. With a deferential air and considerably more formality than you've seen from him before, Asamu introduces the lady as the honored Elder Mitsuki.
Your passive sensory skills aren't picking up a thing from the woman that would suggest she's anything but human, but Asamu's manner makes you suspect very much otherwise.
"Our clan has made its preparations as well as they can be made," the Elder says. "And we believe we have discerned the location of our wayward cousin's lair."
"If I may ask," Koujiro begins.
"You may," Mitsuko says graciously. "And the location is a small town called 'Misaki,' several hours north of Tokyo."
The elder priest nods respectfully. "Our own preparations are made, although I am compelled to admit that, with the upcoming eclipse, there are certain resources we are not prepared to commit or call upon for this venture."
The senior kitsune nods gravely. "Young Hanabi has informed us of your alliance with the honored Shuzens, and the less than auspicious timing of upcoming events." She shrugs. "It is of no matter, however. Our purpose is not to KILL the old one, after all, merely... shake her back to her senses. On that subject..."
Mitsuki's gaze turns to you, and Briar.
"Are YOU prepared, young sorcerer? Little fairy?"
You consider your response. You have the Mirror of Shadows, and it's been vouched for as clear of evil influence by the Goddesses themselves. You also have a suite of spells worked out to help the party that goes after the fox and her young kidnappee, offering multiple layers of protection against discovery by magic, as well as wards against supernatural charms and compulsions.
That said, there are a few things you could still do.
First off, you haven't actually tested the Mirror yet. Being a Hylian artifact, its use SHOULD be pretty intuitive - you just aim the glass at whatever you want to affect, WILL it to work, and hold it steady while it does its job. That said, a test under controlled conditions, to not only confirm whether the Mirror actually works as smoothly as you expect, but what it will end up creating, might be wise before someone takes it into battle.
Secondly, there's the matter of that prophetic rhyme about your ability to find the fox's lair. You haven't looked into that at all, mostly because it seemed like a bad idea to do so until you had armed backup that was ready to take on a ninetails in (or very near to) her own den. Elder Mitsuki seems quite assured that her clan has pinpointed the mad kitsune's lair, but maybe you should test that? Just to be sure? This IS a nine-tailed fox you're dealing with, and she'd know better than anyone how to misdirect others of her kind. Her particular form of insanity wouldn't really diminish that capacity; if anything, the belief that she was hiding and protecting her children should only make her BETTER at concealing her lair.
Finally, there's the question of whether or not you're going to join the hunt in person. You've been conflicted about that from the start, and recent divine messages make it clear that two Goddesses out of three would prefer for you to stand aside and let the adults handle things. At the same time, the Goddess you most identify with specifically told you to ignore the other two and kick butt.
So.
What do you want to do regarding the Mirror of Shadows?
"I WOULD like to take the time to test out the Mirror of Shadow, first," you admit.
Elder Mitsuki's head turns slightly. "You've not done so already?"
You shake your head. "I'm not sure how much the Hakubas told you about the circumstances under which we retrieved it..." You glance at the priests.
"They mentioned a conjured doppelganger, and some kind of possessing spirit," the kitsune says.
"Right, well, I told the Great Fairy Navi about that, she consulted with some other authorities, and long story short, there was a chance that the Mirror might have been cursed or tainted by being around that spirit," you sum up.
Everyone gathered around the low-lying table sits up a little straighter at that, and a sudden tension fills the air.
"I handed the Mirror off to Navi a couple of days ago for a thorough inspection, and if necessary, a purification. She sent it back to me just this morning, with a clean bill of health-"
Almost immediately, the tension eases.
"-but I had a couple of other projects to attend to, and haven't gotten around to testing out how the Mirror actually works yet," you continue. "And it strikes me as a good idea to do that under reasonably controlled conditions at least once, before relying on it in battle."
"Reasonable," the Elder agrees. "How long do you expect such testing to require?"
You think on that for a second.
The main stumbling block to testing the Mirror is that you need someone to test it ON. Ideally, this would be a person who's suffering from some form of mental affliction, like the nine-tails you're planning to use the artifact to heal. You don't actually know of any such people, however, and given the timetable, hunting one down and getting their consent for the test - or the consent of whoever's acting as their guardian - might take longer than you can afford.
Of course, you could always skip the "madness" prerequisite, and just see how long it takes the Mirror to spawn a shadow-clone of someone. The Spell of the Dark Self that you internalized with the Heart of Courage IS based on the Mirror's power, after all, and THAT one can be performed as a standard spell or an extended ritual. The Mirror's magic might work at either end of your range of spellcasting speed, or it could be somewhere in between. Better to know ahead of time how long you'll need to hold it on the nine-tails for its power to take hold - and for that matter, whether you'll need to just catch her reflection, or if she'll have to look into the dark glass for a moment.
"Before that, though," you say, "I'm curious about something."
"And that is...?"
"Why the rush to face the Nine-tails?" you ask directly. "I know the Hakubas are involved in the Shuzens' upcoming battle with Dracula, and that's going to take a toll on everybody involved. Why not wait until after the eclipse, when they've had a chance to recover?"
"We did consider that option," Koujiro replies, frowning. "The idea of leaving Mai in the Ninetails'... custody... is distasteful, but from a purely practical standpoint, it would be the correct decision. Your own prophecy strongly implied that the child is still alive; if she's survived this long, another week or two is unlikely to change that."
"When we consulted with the Shuzens on the matter, however," Ginta continues, "Lady Bloodriver FIRMLY reminded everyone that Dracula is not just the Lord of Vampires, but holds dominion over ALL monsters. Even the most benign and distantly-removed are somewhat subject to his will, and while a whole and healthy nine-tailed fox could and WOULD ignore him, THIS one is liable to be all-too vulnerable to his influence. Especially with the eclipse spreading the Dark Lord's power across half the planet."
You consider the implications, and have to take a second to enhance your calm as a horrible, horrible realization sweeps over you.
Gained Cool B (Plus)
"In short," Ichirou summarizes, all but voicing your thoughts, "if we don't face the Ninetails here in Japan, it's likely that we'll end up facing her in Dracula's Castle. And THAT is a situation NONE of us want to risk."
Question withdrawn.
"...speaking of the prophecy," you say, forcing yourself to move away from the rather alarming image of Dracula backed up by the power of a nine-tailed fox. "Does anyone think I should do some scrying of my own to confirm the location of the Ninetails' lair?"
"Confirmation is seldom a bad thing," Elder Mitsuki replies. "Though I would recommend you wait until before we move to strike, to minimize the consequences if your magic is detected."
Fair enough, you were planning to do that anyway.
Do you have any other questions or comments?
"I've got an hour or so before I need to be on my way," you tell the room at large. "If anyone wants to volunteer, we could test the Mirror out right now."
Your offer is greeted with stunned silence.
"Um... Alexander," Ichirou ventures, "we're not crazy."
"You don't need to be," you reply. "I mean, yes, it would be really helpful if I could use the Mirror on someone who we knew was honestly mentally-unwell. We could see how long it takes for the magic to do its work, what form the madness takes when it's incarnated, and how destroying it affects the person it came from. But unless one of you knows where to find someone like that-"
You pause and look around.
Nobody answers.
Nodding, you continue. "-then we don't really have the time to go looking for a candidate that fits the bill. And honestly, unless we found ANOTHER mad nine-tailed fox suffering from the same KIND of madness, there's only so much we'd learn that would be useful."
Asamu immediately raises one hand. "I, for one, would REALLY prefer NOT to go looking for another crazy nine-tails."
"Seconded," Koujiro agrees.
"One IS quite enough to be getting on with," Elder Mitsuki admits.
"Besides," Briar adds, "knowing Alex's luck, if we went looking for another nine-tailed fox, we'd actually FIND one."
...you wish you could argue with that. You really do.
In any case, the thing you most need to know about the Mirror is how long it requires to work its magic. That doesn't need a crazy person, it just needs somebody who isn't likely to throw a Dark Self too powerful for the rest of your group to sit on if it proves hostile.
When you say as much, all eyes turn to Ichirou.
"Oh, come on!" the young priest protests, staring at his elders.
"We can't use the Mirror on the Hayashis," his grandfather says practically. "They're guests."
"Not to mention that they're just about guaranteed to throw doppelgangers bent on mischief, if not outright malice," Ginta adds. "And Elder Mitsuki's would probably wreck the shrine."
"I would hope that any entity based on me would not be so inconsiderate," the fox-lady says, doing absolutely nothing to refute Ginta's statement.
"Using the Mirror on young Alexander would also be a bad idea," Koujiro goes on. "And for much the same reason. Not to mention that, aside from Miss Briar, he's the only one who knows HOW to use the relic."
"And I'm tiny," Briar points out helpfully. "And magically-linked to Alex."
"That leaves one of us," Ginta concludes.
Ichirou looks defiant.
"Unless you'd like to ask Suzuka to volunteer?" Koujiro suggests with a slight grin.
And now Ichirou looks a lot less defiant. Sighing, he concedes the argument, and moves out into the open courtyard.
"How do we begin?" he asks you.
In response, you bring the Mirror of Shadows out of your dimensional pocket, and set it face-down on the table.
The back of the frame features some detailed work. The Triforce symbol is prominent as always, with an ancient script running the circumference of the Mirror. Incidentally, the characters are NOT Hylian, not even from the more ancient forms of the language - but you do recognize them. Ganondorf saw their like in the Shadow Temple. And... other places...?
You let the vague memory pass.
Briar hovers closer to the artifact, and slowly translates:
"That which you show
is not what I see.
May the Shadow within
reflect upon thee."
Oh, goodie. More cryptic poetry.
Shaking that off, you perform a ritual based on the Spell of Identification, only... considerably more powerful. The Mirror begins to glow in your sight, the expected and familiar auras of Conjuration, Enchantment, Illusion, and Elemental Shadow revealing themselves. As you study how the auras are interwoven with each other and the physical structure of the Mirror, you find your magically-enhanced attention being drawn to some of the words inscribed on the frame.
Again, in your eyes, the characters glow.
You point the symbols in question out to Briar, who identifies them as "show," "Shadow," "within," and "reflect."
The way items like this work, you have to say one or two words in a particular order to invoke a particular effect. The more individual powers an item has, the more words and word-combinations are possible.
After thinking it over, you decide to go with the command phrase, "Shadow within," because the way those two words were placed next to each other in the poem that Briar translated is unlikely to be coincidental.
"Before we get to the fun part," you say, "there's a couple other things I'd like to check."
"Such as?"
"One's to see if the Mirror will activate simply by voice, or if it needs the person holding it to WANT the effect to happen. The other is to see if the angle of your reflection matters."
"You mean, test whether the Mirror will work if all it can 'see' is my back, or if I need to be looking directly into the glass?" Ichirou guesses.
"Yeah, that."
He nods, and turns his back to you.
After making sure that everybody else is either behind you or not anywhere in sight - Mrs. Hakuba is inside the house, you saw Miss Suzuka heading for the back of the property when you arrived, armed with hedge-clippers and a rake, and there's no one and nothing behind Ichirou except the shrine's outer wall and the Tokyo skyline beyond - you hold up the Mirror of Shadows, and turn its glassy face forward.
"First test," Briar announces. "Vocal command, no magical focus, target reflected from behind. In three, two, one..."
"Shadow within!"
...
Nothing happens. As you weren't bending your will upon the artifact, this is tentatively a good thing, since it suggests verbal commands alone won't set the Mirror off. That's USUALLY the case, but it never hurts to check. Sages, archmages, and high priests can have off-days, too, when they aren't the sort that goes in for the kind of chaos that inevitably follows a magic item with the proverbial hair-trigger.
"Second test," Briar says. "Vocal command, magical focus, target reflected from behind. In three, two, one..."
"Shadow within!"
This time, the Mirror thrums in your grasp, its power going from "there, but not doing anything" to "there and doing SOMETHING" on your magical radar. Auras of Conjuration, Enchantment, Illusion, and Necromancy surge within the golden frame before sweeping out, towards Ichirou... at which point the magic sort of stutters out and fades back to its original just-a-magic-item intensity.
It's the equivalent of an engine that won't start for some reason.
The question is, why is it happening?
"What happened?" Koujiro asks.
"I'm not sure," you admit. "Do you feel any different, Ichirou?"
"No," he answers.
You didn't think so, given that he doesn't feel any different to any of your senses, but it was worth asking.
You tell Ichirou to turn towards you, just far enough so that you can side his profile. Once he's done so-
"Third test: vocal command, no magical focus, target reflected from the side. In three, two, one..."
-you utter the command phrase for a third time, getting the same lack of reaction as you did with the first test. Having secured more support for the theory that the Mirror can't be activated casually, you quickly move on to the fourth test. Once again, the Mirror's power responds to your will, but seems to cut out halfway.
Finally, you have Ichirou face you and the Mirror directly, but the results don't change. Without both a command phrase and a wielder's intent, the Mirror won't activate, and when it does activate...
It's like the Mirror's magic is LOOKING for something, but not finding it. And without whatever-it-is, the particular effect you're invoking can't or won't proceed.
Gained Science E
You look at the writing on the back of the Mirror, and have a thought. "Hey, Briar?"
"Yeah?"
"The command phrase I'm using." You run one finger over the characters in question. "Should it be read as, 'Shadow within,' as in, 'bring forth the Shadow within?' Or would, 'Shadow, within,' like saying 'Shadow, get in here,' be correct?"
"...why can I hear the comma in that?" Briar mutters, as she floats forward to inspect the inscription again. A moment later, you see her nod. "It's the latter. Good guess, by the way."
You nod, thinking about the symmetry of a command phrase for the Mirror that's ALSO a command to the Mirror's target - or at least their Shadow. Magic in general tends to respond to that kind of thing, and magic-users who reach the level of ability it would have taken to produce an item like the Mirror learn to watch out for it, and make use of it where they can.
Based on what you've seen, "Shadow, within" isn't the command to create a Dark Self, but it could be the command that tells the Mirror to put someone's manifested dark side back where it came from, once its task is concluded.
Regardless, this test has given you a better idea of which command words to use for the effect you desire, and HOW to use them. You're pretty certain that the command that will tell the Mirror of Shadows to create a Dark Self is either "Shadow, show," - as in "show yourself" - or "Shadow, reflect."
But if that's the case... what does the OTHER command do?
You decide to conduct a new series of tests, substituting the command word "show" for "within." As before, Ichirou faces away from you, and you start by checking whether or not words alone can activate the Mirror. When the results prove the same, you move on to an active attempt to invoke the artifact's power.
As before, the magic within the ancient gold and glass surges to life in response to your will - and this time, it doesn't peter out halfway. Instead, the energy builds to a peak and then ERUPTS from the Mirror, taking the form of great sweeping plumes of translucent black Shadow-stuff. From your position, it almost looks like a pair of great, ghostly arms - or perhaps a nest of tentacles - reaching out for Ichirou.
The sudden exclamations of surprise from the group behind you are entirely understandable, but they are, perhaps, not the best-timed, as they cause Ichirou to whirl around and then let out his own shocked cry as he sees what's coming for him.
The Shadow-hands close about the young priest, the phantasmal substance of their "fingers" passing over and THROUGH him - and then a new, much more solid shape begins to form within the dark fog, coalescing out of the Shadow-stuff in a manner that makes it look as if it's being physically pulled OUT of Ichirou.
The whole process takes only a few seconds, and when it's over and the Mirror has fallen silent once again, the cloud of Shadow has vanished, leaving a wide-eyed, pale-faced Ichirou apparently unharmed. A few feet to his left, however...
The Dark Self shows some commonalities with Dark Link. Its skin is like ash, its hair ebony, and its eyes a bloody, baleful red. Like Ichirou, it is dressed as a Shinto priest, but its upper garment is black instead of white, while the lower is an extremely dark shade of hunter green rather than red.
You were more than half-expecting the Dark Self to turn on Ichirou as soon as it finished corporealizing, so you're a little thrown when, instead, it essentially ignores him, instead looking around with an intent expression.
"My word," you hear Koujiro exclaim softly.
"An interesting bit of magic," Elder Mitsuki muses.
"What's it doing?" Asamu wonders.
You're kind of curious about that yourself, and you're contemplating leaving the Dark Self where it is so you can find out. It's not actively threatening anyone, so it should be perfectly fine, right? And it would give Ichirou a chance to confront himself.
On the other hand, just because the Shadow-spawned entity isn't acting hostile NOW doesn't mean it'll stay that way. It IS supposed to be the manifestation of all the parts of Ichirou's personality that he can't or won't accept about himself, and based on your experience with the older young man, while he's a decent sort, he's also far from achieving any kind of enlightenment - so there SHOULD be some unpleasant bits in there somewhere. And since the Dark Self is just standing there, now might be the best time for you to try and dismiss it, before any of those nasty parts have the opportunity to show themselves.
Besides, is it really appropriate for you to ask Ichirou to go through this kind of thing with an audience, half of whom are either strangers, or not much better than?
You're a bit conflicted in your desires, so you decide to ask an ally for his take.
"Hey, Ichirou."
Both the priest and his shadow-self turn towards you.
You probably should have expected that, but you press on.
"What do you want-"
Dark Ichirou's head suddenly turns to one side, that intent expression snapping back into place.
You catch sight of a smile.
"-to do about- oh, Din blast it."
And he or it has just taken off at a run, one that is NOT taking the entity towards Ichirou, or anybody else in your little audience. Instead, it's making a break for the back of the shrine-
!
-where Miss Suzuka has just emerged from the trees, now carrying a garbage bag full of something or other in addition to the yard tools she had earlier.
Ichirou curses, and then races after his "evil" twin, shouting for Suzuka to watch out.
The sound of her name has the miko looking in Ichirou's direction with a puzzled smile - and then doing a double-take when she sees the black, grey, and dark green figure with red eyes coming towards her. Without a moment's hesitation, she drops the garbage bag and the shears, and swings the rake up and around into a competent-looking defensive position.
Gained Staff Training F (Plus)
All of this takes only a few seconds, and you're content to let it play out that far because neither Ichirou nor his dark doppelganger are all that fast - not by YOUR standards, not over the distance involved. Ki alone would let you outpace them handily, to say nothing of Maximum Power.
Your lack of reaction isn't shared by others, however. Ginta's aura just spiked in a manner you last felt when he was praying for divine intervention, and the feel of Asamu's previously-calm youki now puts you in mind of nothing so much as a fox's tail, bristling in a warning display.
"Nobody do anything!" Koujiro says, one arm extended towards the nervous kitsune, the other clapping down on his son's folded hands.
"Father, what-!"
"His test, Ginta," Koujiro interrupts sharply. Then, he grins. "And Suzuka's not in danger."
Elder Mitsuki hums in what sounds like support of her host's claim - rather amused support, at that.
You have the feeling you're missing something.
"Oh!" Asamu exclaims in sudden recognition, youki settling. "So it's like that, is it?"
Actually, you KNOW you're missing something.
"NOT the time!" Ginta protests...
And by the sound of things - among them the way Briar's just started giggling - you're the only one here for whom that's the case.
This kind of irritates you.
"Alexander," the middle priest says, turning your way, "can you get rid of that thing?"
You could, and if you move fast, you've got just enough time to invoke "Shadow, within" before Dark Ichirou reaches melee range of Miss Suzuka, let alone has a chance to actually hurt her. But part of you is tempted to let this play out, so you can at least get in on the joke.
Since you believe you know how to trigger the Mirror's "off switch" for a Dark Self, you can, in fact, dismiss Dark Ichirou. You'd prefer not to do so JUST yet, however, and would rather wait a second and see what happens.
Given Ginta's less-than-happy reaction to this entire situation, however, you decide that you should at least give the appearance of doing something. He IS one of your hosts, after all.
Gathering your ki, you take off after Ichirou and his doppelganger, pacing yourself so that it looks like you're making a good-faith effort to catch the runaway Shadow, and simply started too late to do so.
Ahead of you, Dark Ichirou enters the reach of Miss Suzuka's makeshift weapon.
She doesn't hesitate to strike - and not just physically, either. Spiritual energy surges from her body and into the rake, forming a faint aura that whispers of purification.
Gained Staff Training F (Plus) (Plus)
Her strike is a quick sweep of the head of the rake, aimed to strike Dark Ichirou in the side, but the Dark Self twists to intercept the blow with both hands - which are radiating a greyish aura that reminds you of the magic you saw Dark Link performing, and which appears to neutralize Miss Suzuka's power. Deprived of its spiritual component, her attack retains only its physical force, and Ichirou is somewhat larger than the miko, with the typical upper-body strength advantage of a man facing a woman.
Dark Ichirou's extended hands catch the incoming rake, bend to absorb the main strength of the blow, and then push back, sending the improvised weapon off to one side-
Gained Weapon Defense D
-pulling Miss Suzuka slightly off-balance in the process.
She recovers quickly, spinning the other end of the rake around for a flat thrust at her assailant's chest, but Dark Ichirou reads the attempt blow perfectly, sidesteps, and closes the remaining distance, grabbing Miss Suzuka's arms.
You frown. That's... not a combat hold. She still has both hands on the rake, and could swing it back - awkwardly, maybe, and not with the full force she'd otherwise be able to manage, but more than enough to be a problem. Or she could kick. Or, given the way Dark Ichirou is leaning forward, she could just headbu-WAIT A MINUTE!
"What the-" Miss Suzuka begins.
"Don't you dare!" Ichirou warns as he catches up.
!
Evidently, Dark Ichirou dares.
It's hard to say whether Miss Suzuka or Ichirou, skidding to a halt, is more surprised by the Dark Self's decision to kiss the miko.
Then Ichirou grabs his opportunistic twin by the shoulders, spins about, and THROWS it back the way it came.
Miss Suzuka stares at him, red-faced.
Ichirou stares back, just as embarrassed.
Figuring this would be a really good time to get rid of Dark Ichirou, you turn away from the pair and raise the Mirror. "Shadow, within!"
As the Mirror's magic surges, Dark Ichirou looks up from where it landed on the flagstones, and flashes you a grin.
You don't need to hear the entity speak to understand that it feels this development was TOTALLY worth it.
Then the Dark Self discorporates back into a cloud of Shadow-stuff, which is sucked into the Mirror.
For a moment, all is silence.
Then Miss Suzuka asks, in a quiet but steady voice, "What just happened?"
"Um..." is all Ichirou manages to say.
Back by the main shrine, you hear Koujiro laughing.
Should... you say something? Like, explain to Miss Suzuka that you were testing out a magic item, and things got out of hand? Or apologize to both of them?
Or maybe you should just stay quiet, walk away, and leave them to their business?
You're no expert on romance, and Ganondorf's memories are absolutely NO help at all in that area, but you've picked up enough on the topic of kissing from TV, movies, and listening to the girls to know that this is a rather private matter between the priest and the miko - and you're intruding upon it.
And so, as quietly as you can manage, you step back and slip away, leaving Ichirou to Suzuka to themselves.
Neither appears to notice your departure. Which is just as well.
Returning to the main shrine at a more sedate pace, your attention turns towards Koujiro, who has mastered himself enough to stop cackling, but is still smirking broadly. Ginta is decidedly less entertained by the entire business, but Elder Mitsuki and Asamu seem to share the senior priest's amusement, if not quite to the same extent.
"I don't get it," you say as you enter comfortable speaking range. "Why was that so funny?"
"Ah, well, you see, Alex," Asamu offers, "when a male and a female care about each other-"
"No, not THAT," you cut the kitsune off. "I get that Ichirou had a crush on Miss Suzuka and, for whatever reason, wasn't doing anything about it. That's not what I was asking about."
"Oh?" Mitsuki says. "Then what had you puzzled?"
You nod towards Koujiro. "Why HE finds this whole thing worth laughing about, when both his son and grandson obviously don't."
Koujiro buries a snicker in his sleeve. "Why else? Great-grandchildren!"
...huh?
"Father," Ginta groans.
"Oh, come off it already, Ginta! Your wife wants to see the next generation as much as your mother and I do. If it'll make them happy and make the children happy, where's the harm?"
"Where's the-?!" Ginta stares at his father. "Father, we're on the verge of a battle with an insane nine-tails, and next week, we have an appointment with the most powerful Dark Lord in history! To say nothing of everything ELSE that's been put into motion recently. This is NOT the time for romance!"
"I don't know about that," Elder Mitsuki muses. "Giving the young ones another reason to fight hard to stay alive and come home certainly wouldn't be a bad thing."
Ginta looks like he honestly, sincerely doubts that.
For yourself, you just shake your head.
Much as you respect them, old people can be really WEIRD sometimes.
The irony of such a statement, coming as it does from the reincarnation of a thousand-year-old warlock, does not escape you.
Shaking your head, you decide to check on the Mirror. The way it dismissed Ichirou's clone looked more like it was re-absorbing the Dark Self than banishing it. Yet from what you can sense, the Mirror's aura has returned to its original state, leaving no trace that the entity ever existed - well, not beyond the Shadow-essence it and the Mirror left scattered about. But that residue is rapidly fading under the light of the sun and the general hallowed-ness of the shrine.
In short, you've worked out the two uses of the Mirror of Shadows that you absolutely needed to know how to use to face the Nine-tails: how to conjure a Dark Self; and how to dismiss it.
That still leaves you with the question of what the "Shadow, reflect" command is supposed to do, but you don't think Ichirou OR Miss Suzuka are going to be keen on further testing, given how the last one worked out for them.
A quick check of the time shows that you've used up close to half of your alloted hour. Aside from getting down to the planning of the actual confrontation with the Nine-tails, and your role in it, is there anything else you'd like to try and squeeze into the next thirty-odd minutes before you need to leave?
Oh, yes. That would be a good idea, wouldn't it?
You turn back to the two older Hakubas. "Would you mind if I cleaned up the energy the Mirror left behind?"
"By all means," Koujiro replies.
"Go right ahead," Ginta says with a nod.
Reaching out with your magic, and - very carefully - using the Mirror as a focus, you draw the Shadow-stuff that was scattered about the Hakuba Shrine grounds towards you. As the elemental essence gathers, it forms first fluttering wisps that slowly rise from the stones of the courtyard, then creeping tendrils that crawl along the ground towards you, and finally a billowing cloud of deep grey shot through with black, which builds upon itself until it is almost the height of an adult, and presses in towards you.
There are some startled outbursts around that point, but you keep your focus, and the cloud of Shadow begins to collapse, compressing and coalescing even as it accelerates to its final destination.
Gained Illusion D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Shadow Affinity E (Plus)
The end result of your efforts is a small, not-quite-solid, vaguely translucent sphere of glossy grey-black... material, which rests in the upturned palm of your hand. The way it seems to absorb the ambient light draws the eye towards it.
"Well," Asamu says, eyes wide and ears and tail once again popped in surprise, "that was certainly... dramatic."
Elder Mitsuki makes a vague, wordless noise, acknowledging her younger kinsman's words without really paying attention. Her interest is solely for the orb of elemental Shadow you now hold.
Incidentally, SHE hasn't revealed any fuzzy traits, which is a mark against the notion that the entire Hayashi Clan is jumpy that way. Maybe it's just Emiko's immediate family, through her father? Or Mitsuki could just have enough experience not to break a disguise because she's startled.
"Good quality, there," the kitsune matriarch notes. "May I ask what were you planning on doing with it?"
"I was hoping to keep it," you admit, with a glance at the Hakubas. "If that's alright with you gentlemen?"
"Is it a danger to anyone?" Ginta asks.
You consider that question. Shadow is fairly mutable stuff, and this orb contains enough of it that, if you were to leave it somewhere with the right conditions - above-average magical essence, not too bright or too dark, too pure or too corrupt - it might eventually come to life as a minor Shadow-entity. Or cause something ELSE to come to life. And given its direct connection to Ichirou, somebody with a mind to do the young man wrong could use the orb against him. Probably only the once, and not to an especially great physical effect - more of the Shadow-stuff the sphere contains originated from the Mirror than Dark Ichirou - but it would be something.
You admit as much to the priests, and add that you were thinking of using the Shadow-essence in your familiar binding ritual. It's strong enough to balance out your Light and Dark reagents, and using it up in a way that emphasizes its elemental aspect and originating link to YOU, rather than its connections to other people, would be quite harmless. There also wouldn't be anything left of it after the ritual's conclusion.
This visibly reassures the two priests - especially the part where you tell them you'd effectively be destroying the orb - who give you their blessing to keep and use it.
Gained Essence of Shadow
Tucking the Essence away in your pocket, and then stowing the Mirror, you re-take your place at the table.
"So," you say, "in spite of the... unexpected side-effect-"
Koujiro sniggers.
"-I'd call that a successful test of the Mirror."
"I might recommend testing it one more time," Elder Mitsuki notes, "just to make certain whether or not it will work without someone looking directly into the Mirror. But you'll probably have to do that on your own time," she admits, with an amused glance across the courtyard.
You look that way, and find Ichirou and Miss Suzuka talking quietly. The priest's back is to you, so you can't be sure, but he seems a little less tense than he was when you left. The miko, meanwhile, has mostly stopped blushing, and set her rake aside.
The kitsune's suggestion has merit, but privately, you're not sure where you'd do the testing. The Mirror was rather obvious once you got it working, enough so that you doubt Ambrose's wards on your house would be able to hide its presence. Lu-sensei's place definitely won't work, and performing the test in your Mirror Hideaway is RIGHT out - the idea of using a magic Mirror in a room MADE of mirrors strikes you as a recipe for hilariously bad consequences.
Besides, having seen its power at work, you find yourself reluctant to turn the Mirror of Shadows on your family and friends.
And you ABSOLUTELY don't want to see what Lu-sensei's Dark Self looks like.
"Worse comes to worst, though," Koujiro says, "we know that the magic works, that it works quickly, and that the process is very attention-grabbing - which might be the point."
"One thing we don't know yet is whether or not any of us other than Alexander can USE it," Ginta points out.
And that's your cue.
"That's fine," you say. "I was planning to go anyway."
Not surprisingly, all eyes turn to you at that.
"You were," Ginta says.
"I was. NOT to fight the Nine-tails," you add smoothly. "There's being abnormally powerful for my age, and then there's picking fights above my weight class. I'm just as happy to leave her to the adults."
"Then what were you planning on doing?" Elder Mitsuki inquires.
You lay out your personal planned contribution.
It starts with the suit of protective wards, to shield the entire group against the fox's more subtle (and arguably most dangerous) powers. Next are the combat enhancements, to allow those who will be facing her physically to keep up and not get torn to shreds by her claws and fangs, or burnt to ash by her flames.
You also mention that, if it would make the adults would feel more comfortable with the entire arrangement, you could summon some extra muscle and/or mystical firepower. Exactly WHAT you'd call remains open to speculation at this point, as to get combat-effective allies in this manner, you'd have to use calling spells and make a deal or two.
Finally, there's the matter of your involvement in the fight - which wouldn't be fighting. You figure the best thing you can do, after all the preparations are done, is to be the one who actually uses the Mirror of Shadows on the Nine-tails, so none of the adults have to abandon whatever THEY'RE doing. Once that's done, you'd get the heck out of dodge and leave the smack-down to the professionals - though you might take the missing girl with you, if she hasn't already been removed from harm's way.
The adult responses to this are mixed.
Nobody has any objection to your offer of casting support spells before the fight. Indeed, Ginta - who's personally experienced this aspect of your magic - is all for it, and Koujiro - having heard his son's and grandson's account of your exploits in the Memorian Outpost - isn't far behind in his approval.
The offer to summon additional fighting power also goes over reasonably well, though your audience is not without concerns - which they express. Having strong allies beside you when you're about to face an enemy as dangerous as a functionally-insane nine-tailed kitsune is not a bad thing, by any means, but there's only so much manpower you can take into such a fight before your people start getting in each other's way. It gets a lot worse if the fighters on your side haven't worked together before, which can quickly render your efforts self-defeating.
As for you being "on the field"...
Asamu is against it. That doesn't really surprise you. For all that he's heard about you, the male kitsune has never seen you in combat. He doesn't know what you can do when the pressure's on, and that can't help but color his opinion. Not to mention that he's a father, and if he's any kind of good one - you've seen no evidence to the contrary - then putting kids in the line of fire has to be one of the worst things he can imagine.
Ginta, on the other hand, HAS seen you fight. In point of fact, he's seen you fight against another enemy that was out of your league, to say nothing of HIS league, and pull off a win. He's ALSO heard your testimony about the affair, and how CLOSE you came to getting your butt kicked. He is... reluctant... to take you into the fight with the Nine-tails, even if he can see the advantages of doing so.
Koujiro is following his son's lead, but is less "reluctant" and more "determinedly against."
Elder Mitsuki is... thoughtful.
You've made your arguments in favor of your attendance on the fox-hunt, and the gentlemen present have made theirs against. At this point, you can't think of much that any of you could say without repeating yourselves, or getting into ultimatums. You ARE tempted to offer a compromise - one that would keep you out of the fight personally, in exchange for the adults' agreement to accept the strongest ally you can call up - but you hold off on that for the moment.
After all, the kitsune matron has yet to make her stance in this clear.
The more you consider it, the more you suspect that convincing Elder Mitsuki of the value of your direct participation is the key to winning this little debate. Asamu has been deferential towards his clan elder from the start, and if she says she's in favor of you tagging along in some capacity, it's likely that his opinion will either swing in your favor, or just be overruled entirely. Mitsuki doesn't have that kind of influence over the Hakubas, of course, but her support might be enough to convince Ginta to come down on your side.
Conversely, if the elder DOESN'T like the idea of you joining the hunt in person, that'll be a unanimous "no."
In the brief silence, Mitsuki turns to Briar.
"What is your opinion of this plan, little fairy?"
"Honestly? I'd rather Alex and I not get within a hundred miles of this Misaki place," Briar admits. "I'm sort of resigned to being disappointed on that account, though."
"What makes you say that?"
"That little prophecy that said Alex could find the 'door' to the 'fox-house,'" your fairy companion explains. "His Divination Magic and other supernatural sensor skills are really good, but they work BEST at close range. That ties into him being referred to as 'the Boar,' and also explains why he'd be in danger of being 'wanted to stay.' He already sort of fits the profile for boys the Nine-tails has grabbed, but she'd have to SEE him for that to pose a danger."
"There are counter-scrying spells that reveal the intruder's appearance," Mitsuki points out.
"Yeah, but the prophecy also said 'they'll want you both to stay.' The plural implies that either the Nine-tails has an accomplice that nobody noticed, or the GIRL is the other person who'd want Alex to stay."
...um. You... hadn't really thought of it that way.
The adults trade glances.
"The Nine-tails HAS had accomplices in the past, after a fashion," Asamu admits slowly. "But those have always been the stolen children who believed her claims, or were driven mad themselves."
"We've found no indication that she has any such aid this time," Elder Mitsuki replies. "If there were a new human sorcerer, kitsune hanyou, or blood-crazed killer in Misaki, there would be evidence - rumors, at the very least, even on the mundane side - beyond what the Nine-tails herself would account for."
"I take it there is an absence of such evidence?" Koujiro guesses.
Mitsuki nods. "If anything, the town's level of supernatural activity has gone DOWN since the old one moved in. The locals have been doing their best to avoid coming to her attention, and encouraging visitors to visit elsewhere."
"Wise of them," Ginta says. "Still, that doesn't rule out the possibility that the Nine-tails has help."
"True enough. Which makes the young sorcerer's offer a tempting one." Elder Mitsuki turns to you. "If the accounts I have heard of you matching Gyokuro's eldest are accurate, I would not pit you against one of my elder cousins, but a younger one? Three tails, perhaps four? Or a human sorcerer of comparable power? That much might be an acceptable risk."
Asamu twitches.
"I am less sure about your offer of summoned aid," the kitsune goes on. "An army of lesser beings would accomplish little, except give the Nine-tails an abundance of easy prey. Anything strong enough to face her... well. I have not heard or seen enough of your magic to be certain whether or not you CAN call up anything on that level, much less convince it to aid us."
That sounds like a challenge.
You consider it. What sort of creature could you call that would be effective in battle against a nine-tailed kitsune?
There aren't a lot of creatures out there that could throw down with a nine-tailed kitsune, and a fair number of the ones that could do it are not the sort of beings you WANT to summon: major demons; Hyrulean boss monsters; Link; that kind of thing.
Since no specific creature really comes to mind for this job, you decide to go the other way with your summoning, and open it up to a much more general crowd.
After getting permission from the Hakubas, you move out into the courtyard and start setting up a summoning circle, laying out conjured flakes of powdered metal as has become your regular practice.
Although you're going for a general summons, you do plug in a few special variables while setting up for the spell, clarifying that you're looking for aid in rescuing a kidnapped child, and that the one who has her is a crazy and crazy-powerful fox. After some hesitation, you add a sub-diagram that declares your request to be for non-lethal aid - after all, your goal isn't to kill the kitsune, but to try and heal her.
Best to make that evident up-front, you feel.
Once the circle is laid out, you make a final prayer to the Goddesses, invoking their guidance and blessing.
Then you make with the magic.
"By Power, to save a youth! By Wisdom, to see the truth! By Courage, to face the fear! I bid you, ally, APPEAR!"
And then there are the women in the circle. Two of them, to be precise.
One has the features of a traditional Japanese beauty, and is clothed in a style of robes that wouldn't look out of place amongst the kami you met the other day. Her age is difficult to pin down - she could be anywhere from her early twenties to her late forties - but looks aside, she doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. No non-human features, no aura of magic or youki or demonic power - suppressed or otherwise - and not even any weapons. By almost any measure, it would seem that you've managed to summon a perfectly ordinary human.
ALMOST any measure. The one exception is that she is most definitely dead. She has no ki that you can sense, no physical presence of any kind, and her mental signature is both there, and not there. It's only on the spiritual level that she registers, and THERE, her presence is fairly strong, if still within the bounds of human potential.
The OTHER woman, though...
She has a similar sort of ageless beauty about her as her companion, but she wears the attire of a miko rather than a lady's robe, and her yellow eyes and soft rosy hair are distinctly NOT Japanese, or even human at all. Further proof of that can be found in the tall canid ears that rise above the purple bows tied through her hair, and the fluffy tail waving lazily behind her hakama. As if those weren't evidence enough, you have but to look to her aura: youki; mana; a sliver of essence that makes you think of the kami and the Goddesses...
"Now, now," she says. "I know I'm beautiful, but you shouldn't stare at a lady so on your first meeting."
You're already dialling your senses down. "Sorry about that, ma'am. My mistake."
With a dazzling smile, she pronounces, "Forgiven!"
Behind you, there comes a decided fox-like yelp, a familiar *POP!*, and the sound of someone dropping to the flagstones and taking someone else with them.
When you turn to look, you find Elder Mitsuki - ears and half a dozen tails out - has dropped to her hands and knees, and dragged an astounded Asamu down next to her.
"Mitsuki-chan," the new arrival says in a tone of puzzlement. "What ARE you doing?"
"A thousand apologies, my lady!" the elder says frantically. "We did not expect- I mean, we never intended- that is..."
"Elder," Asamu manages to get out, half-rising, "what on Earth-?!"
"Be silent and show respect before the Lady Tamamo, foolish boy!" Mitsuki bursts out.
Asamu blinks, and then his ears and tails go limp as he turns to look at... Tamamo?
...
Oh.
Oh, dear.
Well, on the bright side, you now know that Mitsuki does, in fact, share that particular behavioral quirk with her younger kin. It just... takes a lot more to get her to show it.
"Maa, maa," the kitsune-miko in the summoning circle sighs. "Mitsuki-chan is always so serious..."
It's not an acknowledgement, exactly, but it appears to be confirmation enough for Asamu, who hits the flagstones face-first in a dead faint.
The Hakubas, incidentally, are not doing much better.
You understand where they're coming from.
It's not every day that one of the most powerful and legendary monsters in Japanese history stops by to visit.
All things considered, you figure it would be wise to err on the side of caution, and be polite and inoffensive as possible to the legendary kitsune you've managed to summon.
Tamamo-no-Mae IS supposed to be dead - and long dead, at that - but mortality isn't the kind of serious barrier to beings on her level that it is to ordinary humans.
You'd know.
"Greetings, Lady Tamamo, and companion," you say, bowing respectfully. "My name is Alexander Harris."
"Yes, I know," Tamamo replies.
Part of you is concerned about the implications of a legendary monster apparently knowing your name BEFORE you told her. The rest forges ahead.
"We are at the Hakuba Shrine, in Tokyo - these gentlemen are Koujiro and Ginta, of the Hakuba family, who have graciously consented to this summoning."
Tamamo nods politely to the two priests. "And we thank you for that agreement, gentlemen. It has provided an unexpected but most welcome opportunity for me to address a certain... issue."
"You are welcome, Lady Tamamo," Koujiro replies. "May I ask what the issue you refer to is?"
"You may, and I'll even answer," Tamamo says with a cute smile. "But first, the formalities! I, of course, am the wise and beautiful Tamamo-no-Mae, and my companion is the honorable Lady Akemi. Say hello, dear."
"My greetings to you all," the woman says in a soft, gentle voice, and with an ancient accent that tests your understanding of Japanese. "And my thanks for this chance."
Gained Spirit Affinity E (Plus)
"Which brings us back to that answer I said I'd give," the kitsune continues. "In case you haven't already guessed, in life, Lady Akemi was one of the children kidnapped by Taka- I mean, the poor Nine-tails you're planning to face."
Information previously recounted by Asamu regarding the abductions clicks into place, and you look at the woman's spirit, noticing as if for the first time that her hair is not the inky black of many classical Japanese beauties, but a rich brown with just the faintest hint of red.
"You were the girl who married the daimyo's son," you state.
"I was," the lady admits with a sad smile. "Though with respect to Lady Tamamo, I never considered myself to have been kidnapped. My life was not a happy one before Mother found me, and it only improved afterwards. And while it may be presumptuous of me to say it... so did hers."
"Another victory for the Power of Love!" Tamamo crows, while... pointing at the sky. For some reason.
You frown at the kitsune. "Didn't the Nine-tails end up burning that domain down, after her adopted daughter died?"
The kitsune's ears droop, and her hand falls, to rub the back of her head in embarrassment.
"Well... yes, there... was that ONE little problem..." She laughs weakly, then coughs delicately into one fist, and smiles. "But that's why I brought Little Akemi into the summons with me! So she can talk to her mother again! That'll give you the opening you need to use Farore-chan's slightly-creepy Mirror, pull the bad crazy out of her, and stomp it until it gives up and dies! Love will triumph yet, just wait and see!"
Didn't she say Love had already won, though?
And what's this about "Farore-chan?"
Do you even want to know?
Try as you might, you can't quite stop yourself from asking, "'Farore-chan'?"
Tamamo nods. "Because she's tiny and adorable and very, very sweet."
...adorable? Sweet? The Goddess of Courage, the Mother of Nature, She Who Is Green In Heart and Soul But Red In Tooth and Claw, the Patron of the Hero, the ORIGINAL Walking Murder-Machine of Hyrule...
...then again, you ARE talking to a youkai. Farore being a little bundle of horrible, bloody death for those people and things that really tick her off probably IS cute from a monster's point of view. At least as long as it's not aimed at them or anyone they care about.
Seeing as how you (vaguely) recall what it's like to be on the receiving end of Farore's Wrath (by proxy), you can't help but hold a different opinion.
Shaking that off, you turn to Lady Akemi and thank her for deciding to help you and your allies. You're glad that you could give her this chance, although the prospect of seeing her mother in the state she's in... that can't be easy for her.
"It is not," the lady admits quietly. "But all the more reason why it must be done."
There isn't much you can say to that. So you don't.
Instead, you start hammering out the details of the plan. When you're going to move on the Nine-tails' lair, who's going, how to get Lady Tamamo and Lady Akemi in place-
"Ah, about that," the kitsune interrupts with a nervous little laugh. "I hate to disappoint, but I'm not going to be much help against the Nine-tails."
"Does this have something to do with the ban on divine intervention?" you guess, thinking of that shard of divinity you glimpsed at the core of the legendary kitsune's presence.
"That foolish thing?" Tamamo's laugh is light and clear and utterly unconcerned. "Silly boy. I'm a MONSTER. Ignoring the rules of higher powers is what I DO."
You blink, give her miko's attire a meaningful once-over, and then meet Tamamo's gaze again, your expression doubtful.
"That doesn't mean I can't do them favors, if I like them or they ask nicely," she says, adjusting her clothes slightly. "Besides, I like this outfit. It's cute."
"Then what's the problem?" you ask.
"Wellll... truth be told, the Nine-tails is stronger than I am right now."
Behind you, several people choke on thin air.
"I mean, this spell you used could only hold so much of my power to start with," Tamamo explains. "If I tried to enter it with my full strength, the spell would have failed for sure, and that's ALWAYS uncomfortable. And messy. I also needed to bring Lady Akemi along, and to make sure she wasn't in any danger, because she's a nice girl and absolutely doesn't deserve to get hurt just because I was careless-"
Lady Akemi smiles-
"-plus Inari-chan would have been SO GRUMPY if I broke one of her adopted grandchildren-"
-and then she blinks and stops smiling.
"-so what I did was, I sent one of my tails through instead, because they're kind of sort of independent of me these days. Except not. Basically, the REAL Tamamo-no-Mae is speaking to you through a less-powerful but still breaktakingly lovely manifestation of herself. See?"
What's really scary about this is, you actually CAN follow what she means.
It's basically the same sort of trick that Ganondorf pulled to create Phantom Ganon, which would go a long way towards explaining why the "legendary monster" has an aura that's strong without being soul-crushingly overwhelming. That would make this "Tamamo" some variant on a Simulacrum, then, only made out of a tail rather than some inanimate material like snow or clay or WAIT A MINUTE.
She said her tails were independent of her.
Tamamo-no-Mae was a nine-tailed fox - implying that she could have as many as nine of these one-tailed doppelgangers. Or maybe only eight, if she kept one tail for herself.
Either way, could you... maybe... summon more than one of them?
Then again, even if you COULD do that, it might not accomplish much. It would really depend on how Tamamo divided her power, and how it reacted to BEING divided. Each clone might have one-ninth of the original kitsune's strength, or they might have inequal distributions that still add up to one complete nine-tailed kitsune - or all of them together might still have only a fraction of Tamamo's true strength.
There's also the possibility that the "tail-clones" would have the potential to re-combine, but if that were the case, you probably SHOULDN'T summon more than one of them. You don't want to be responsible for unleashing one of the most feared monsters in Japanese history on the world again.
Risks of a reborn monster aside, the prospect of having multiple instances of Tamamo-no-Mae lending their support against the Nine-tails is very tempting. So you inquire about it.
"Haaa," Tamamo sighs. "Unfortunately, that wouldn't work out too well for you, Little Alex. I'm here right now partly because I want to be, and partly as a favor to some friends - but because of that, my other tails won't feel obliged to owe anyone anything in this whole affair. If you summoned them, you'd have to convince them to help, and that could get very, very costly." She hesitates, and then adds, "I hate to say it of myself, but... we're not all NICE."
Considering what you know of Tamamo-no-Mae's legend, you are not surprised by this admission, only the fact that she made it.
"And even if you DID manage to convince all of my tails to help you out," Tamamo goes on, "we'd still be at a massive disadvantage against the Nine-tails. It'd be like... hmmm... each side would have the same number of tails, but my side would be adding each tail's strength together. Hers would be be multiplied together."
Ouch.
"You would also have every major spiritualist in Japan after you," Lady Akemi notes dryly, "afraid that Lady Tamamo was about to be reborn."
"Yes, that too," Tamamo agrees. She shakes her head. "Those boys REALLY need to calm down. Maybe find some nice girls..."
Okay, final assessment? Summoning multiple incarnations of Tamamo might be technically possible, but it'd be extremely impractical, potentially dangerous, and the sort of thing that'd be liable to get you kicked out of Japan and told not to come back.
In other words, just not worth it.
On the positive side, now that you've met Lady Akemi in person and have her agreement to aid you in confronting and healing her foster-mother, you can address a summoning specifically to the ancient lady's spirit when you need her help. The best time to do that would be when you and your allies have gathered to begin the hunt, but before you've done that private scrying session to confirm the location of the Nine-tails' den that you wanted.
Calling up an extraplanar entity isn't exactly a quick process, and leaving it undone until you were standing at the Nine-tails' proverbial front door... well.
You entertain a brief image of everyone sitting down to tea with the mad fox-lady, while you work your magic in the background.
It's a silly image, and you dismiss it as such.
That aside, you have your plan. The Hakubas were planning to offer their shrine as the meeting place to begin with, so once everyone has gathered here, you can make with the summoning, as well as the various enhancement and defensive spells you had in mind, and then get your scrying done. The last spell you cast will be a group teleport to somewhere near - but not actually inside - the fox's lair.
Your only responsibilities after that will be to catch the Nine-tails' reflection in the Mirror of Shadow, and then get yourself the heck out of there - perhaps grabbing Mai and taking her along, and perhaps not. Regardless, everything after that will be up to Lady Akemi's influence on her foster-mother, the efforts of the living adults, and chance.
Does this seem like an acceptable plan to you, or is there anything else you feel should be added?
Plan made and agreement reached with all parties, you're about to thank the two summoned ladies for their time and assistance and send them on their way when something occurs to you.
"Before you go, Lady Tamamo, I have a small request."
She blinks. "Yes?"
"Would you mind if we took a photograph together, and you signed it?"
You can FEEL the stares. Not the least of which is Tamamo's - although hers comes in company with suddenly-twitching ears and a HUGE smile.
"I ask because I have a friend who's a kitsune, and I think she'd get a kick out of seeing it."
Tamamo makes a sound like "Eeee!" and bounces in place, looking absolutely delighted.
"I would LOVE to!" the kitsune bursts out. "Do you have a camera?"
As it happens, no, you don't have a camera, but that's fine; a quick Summoning spell brings one to you from out of the ether, about as easily as that shotgun you once called up to arm your alternate reality counterpart. You... don't recognize the model, but it's an instant camera, so that's fine.
Actually getting the photo taken eats up quite a bit of time. While Lady Akemi's form is solid enough that she could handle the camera, she is completely mystified by the device and its operation. Briar is smaller than the camera, Asamu is still out cold, and Elder Mitsuki is so utterly bewildered by what you're doing that she can't even hold the camera steady.
In the end, you hand the camera off to Koujiro, while you stand alongside Tamamo and pose - several times, at her insistence. At first, you stand side-by-side in a vaguely formal manner, but Tamamo takes one look at the resulting picture, declares it "Bah! Boring!" and insists on a re-take.
This time, you stand slightly in front of Tamamo, one of her arms wrapped about your shoulders in a half-hug.
"Hmmm..." she muses, looking from the photo to you and then back again. "Not the reaction I was going for. Maybe in another decade. Next!"
The next shot has you both mugging for the camera, grinning and flashing Victory signs.
"Fun, but too cheesy!"
This time, Tamamo re-enters the circle and has you stand in a "sorcerous" pose, adding a bunch of visual effects to make it look like you'd just called her.
"Meh, looks fake."
Then Tamamo starts dragging other people into the pictures.
"Come on, Akemi-chan!"
"My lady, I do-whoa!"
"You too, Mitsuki-chan!"
"Waa waa waa?!"
At Tamamo's insistence, you end up taking well over a dozen pictures. She's having so much fun with the whole business that it's only the limits of your Summoning spell and your curfew that convince her to end things. The original photos, being part of your temporary Summoning, fade away into the ether, but not before you've copied them and Conjured exact duplicates. Tamamo looks through these, and picks out her favorite of the batch, which has her half-hugging, half-headlocking a mortified Mitsuki, while you and Lady Akemi look on in shock.
Tamamo proclaims it, "Completely genuine!" before pulling a bushy ink-brush out of nowhere and quickly signing her name.
As she hands the photo back to you, the kitsune leans forward and whispers, "This was fun, Alexander, but try to avoid calling me in the future, okay? Because like I said, I'm not all nice - and while some of me would just want to kidnap you, some would want to eat you."
Her smile is gentle, but the look in her eyes is completely serious.
"I'll... keep that in mind, ma'am."
She ruffles your hair. "Good boy."
Gained Shadow Affinity E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Tamamo's Photo Collection
Gained Tamamo's Signed Photo
After that, Lady Tamamo and Lady Akemi depart. You're on your way almost immediately afterwards, apologizing to your hosts and fellow guests for the swift departure - but you're on the verge of running late, and you DID promise your Mom you'd be back by dinner.
You make it home without incident.
What now?
You're in the middle of your second mostly-baked potato at dinner when it occurs to you that, while spending the rest of the evening at home resting would certainly ensure you went into tomorrow's scheduled fox-hunt at full strength, it's not the most optimal approach.
The plan you worked out at the Hakuba Shrine calls for you to do a lot of spellcasting in a short span of time - too short, in fact, for you to conserve power by using the ritual-casting method. True, it won't leave you exhausted or too low on mana to (briefly) enter the Nine-tails' den, but you'll still be well below your full strength. And that's more dangerous than going in with a topped-off tank of mana.
Not only that, but the more mana you burn tomorrow, the longer it's going to take you to get back to fighting strength, let alone fill your reserves. You've got a lot of things to do in the next week or so; you simply can't afford the time it would take to recover the natural way, especially if worse comes to (nearly) worst, and you end up burning through your entire mana reserve in the near-future.
To sum up: your current plan isn't BAD per se, but it could be better than it is. The addition of a mana potion or two would be a significant improvement.
Isn't it a fortunate thing that you know exactly where you can lay your hands on some magical restoratives?
Gained Logistics F
Gained Strategy F
Gained Tactics C (Plus) (Plus)
Finishing your meal, you tell your parents that you'd like to make a run to Gen's, adding that you probably should have gone before you came home, but events at the Hakuba Shrine ran long.
They allow it, although your mother mentions that there's a storm forecast for later this evening, so you should try to be home earlier than normal - say, seven o'clock, rather than eight.
Glancing out the window, you see a dark mass of clouds covering much of the northern sky. Sunnydale doesn't get a huge amount of rain over the course of the year - the nearby desert is where it is for a reason - but you do see the odd thunderstorm. This looks like it could be shaping up to be one of them.
Leaving the house at about 5:30, you forego some of the testing of your ki abilities that you've been doing lately in favor of getting out of town as quickly as you can. A Greater Spell of Invisibility - cast under Ambrose's wards, just before you depart - Ki Enhancement pushed to the limits of your concealment, and then an all-out dash, Overload included and darn the glowing.
It shaves a couple of minutes off your usual time. Nothing huge, but the difference is there.
Seven minutes later, you're back outside Gen's place. A quick mental estimate puts the time of day here at ten in the morning or so - a perfectly good time for business.
This is borne out by the presence of not one, but two customers in the shop today. One's an older man - not quite so old as your business partner, but with enough years under his belt to earn the time regardless - in a Western business suit that looks a few years out of fashion to your eye. It's good quality, though, and the gentleman wears it well.
Gained Style E (Plus) (Plus)
The other individual browsing the shelves is a young woman wearing a tie-dyed shirt, tatty-looking blue jeans, and open-toed sandals.
You don't recognize either person, but they both have the auras of trained practitioners, which puts you on your guard.
"Welcome, young customer, welcome!" Gen says, giving you the greeting that professes his ignorance of your identity. "How can I be of service to you this fine day?"
It's become something of a shared habit between the two of you, to keep the nature of your business relationship secret when strangers are about. And these people ARE strangers, at least to you - Gen is considerate enough of you, and especially the money you've been helping him make, to take that into account.
With that in mind, how do you want to respond? You could try browsing the shelves for a bit, until one or both of these unfamiliar people are gone, but that would take time you may not have. On the other hand, just trading in some of your store credit for a mana potion or three might draw that attention you've been trying to avoid. You're not sure if Gen even OFFERS credit to other people. You do still have twenty bucks on your person, so you suppose you could exchange that as a "cover," if you're that concerned about secrecy.
If you do make your purchases now, what do you want to buy? Gen doesn't do much trade in recovery potions - as he noted on your first meeting, most people who need such things are entirely capable of brewing their own, and prefer to - but his stock does move a bit, and given your partnership, you've seen him add to the modest collection of restoratives he had in stock. Possibly with an eye towards supplying you.
At the moment, you know that Gen's got four bottles of Spring Dew, which you've previously used and know the effects of, and three bottles of Smoke Water, whose properties remain a mystery to you. There's also that bottle of Great Fairy's Tears, which can't be had for money, and which you've foregone using on the Nine-tails in favor of the Mirror of Shadow.
You tell your mother that you'll do your best not to get caught in the storm, but add that even with your magic, you can't do much about the weather.
At least, not yet. Though you don't mention THAT part aloud.
Instead, you add that you can keep the rain off and the wind chill out, if you really need to.
Worst-case scenario, you can even shield against lightning - which is another thing you don't say out loud.
Your mother seems satisfied with the prospect of a magical umbrella-slash-personal windshield, and lets it go at that.
"Give me a few minutes to see what you have in stock, sir, and I'll let you know," you answer Gen, with enough of a bow to make yourself look like a well-mannered boy meeting a strange elder for the first time.
"Of course, of course. Feel free to look around."
The little act you and Gen put on doesn't draw more attention from the shop's other occupants than a couple of momentary glances - politely indifferent from the old gentlemen, slightly curious from the young woman in the rainbow-spectacular shirt.
Increasing your hold over your aura a bit more, you put on a show of checking the inventory, while also getting a more detailed read - still strictly passive - of Gen's two customers.
After a couple of minutes, you decide that the old man is the more capable of the two overall, a mix of native power and learned skill. His aura is well-hidden, but to your senses, it reveals strong traces of Abjuration and Divination, plus fleeting hints of every other major school. If you were to venture a guess, you'd say he was a defensive specialist - one with enough practical experience dealing with the many forces his magic opposes to add a few of their tricks to his own playbook.
The woman's aura isn't so well-trained as the old man's - something easily explained by the forty-year age difference between them - but she has about the same degree of natural ability. Her focuses seem to be Divination, Enchantment, and Illusion, but like the gentleman - gentlemage? - in the suit, she's got a good grounding in the other schools. Better than his in some fields, actually.
For all that neither of them is any threat to, say, Ambrose, the older fellow's abilities likely wouldn't compare unfavorably to Akkiko's in his fields of expertise, and the girl with the loud fashion sense could easily get to that level, given another ten years of practice.
While you've been studying those two, you haven't neglected your inspection of Gen's wares. Not too much has changed since your last visit, but given recent events, you have a new eye for possible purchases. Specifically, you're hoping to find something with a strong affinity for Earth or Air, to help balance out the first of the three elemental circles in the upcoming Familiar Binding Ritual. You already purchased the Dragonfly Youkai's Wing and acquired the Shadow-infused tail-hair from "your" horse, but both of those were moderate affinities at best, and you found something better than the Shadow Horsehair. If a superior-quality reagent turns up for sale, you won't hesitate.
However, nothing catches your eye.
In the interim, the gentleman has finished his business, purchasing a few small bottles of this and that and the other thing from Gen. The two old men seem to be on familiar terms, as they spend several minutes talking about things that don't appear to have anything to do with the shop: Gen inquires after the well-being other man's son; the customer in turn asks after Gen's niece and her family; and then they start talking about the city council, and whether their current representative is going to run for a third term, or step down in favor of new blood.
Ordinary old person stuff, in other words.
By the time the gentleman has left, paper shopping bag in hand and somehow not detracting from his respectable appearance, you've been here close to twelve minutes. You figure that's as long as you can afford to spend here today, and move towards the counter.
"Found nothing of interest, did we?" Gen inquires.
"I was wondering if you had any strong Wind or Earth reagents available," you explain. "Or if it would be possible to order something of that nature."
"I don't have anything of that sort in stock at the moment, as you've seen," your partner admits, nodding towards his shelves. "Could probably round up an Earth reagent in a week or so, less if I paid extra for the speed. Wind would be... trickier. And more expensive."
"How much more?"
Gen considers it. "For the Earth reagent? I'd guess a hundred dollars, American - maybe as much as one-fifty, if I rush the order. The Wind reagent would likely go for twice that."
Ouch. Even with your in-store credit, that's no small chunk of change.
"Wind is one of the more difficult elements to get a hold of," Gen explains. "In every sense of the term, at that. And when you special-order these things, well, some people take advantage." He shrugs. "What can you do? It's business."
What can you do, indeed?
Gen's estimated price on either of those reagents is rather high, even without the rush-order - but if you DON'T go for that added expense, there's a non-zero chance that whatever you order wouldn't arrive in time for the ritual. It's (late) Wednesday now, and the eclipse is just seven days away - well, six days and something like seven and a half hours, at this point - which doesn't leave a lot of time for shipping and handling.
Besides, now that you think on it, there IS that storm building back home to consider. Clouds and rain are more symbols of Water - they sort of qualify as minor elements unto themselves, when you get right down to it - but Wind is Wind, and storm-force winds would definitely make for a good Wind reagent.
The tricky part will be harvesting the stuff. Like Gen said, Wind is not easy to lay your hands on - to get the kind of quality you desire, you're going to need to get some altitude. It's not just a matter of avoiding the Hellmouth's influence, although that's certainly a consideration; you also need to get away from the Earth, at least a little bit.
Pulling that off is going to require a stronger-than-usual flight spell (for overcoming the winds), protection against water, cold, physical impacts, lightning, and thunder... you don't need to go so high that breathing would be an issue, fortunately.
That still leaves the matter of collecting and storing the reagent. Your grasp of Wind Elementalism is good enough for the former, as long as you don't get greedy and try to collect more than you strictly need. The latter, on the other hand, is going to require some sort of container - preferably airtight.
You know that Gen has a few such vessels, and considering how much he just said Wind reagents will go for, you suspect you could easily convince him to loan you a couple of the containers - one for him, and one for you. That is, if you don't mind being seen making the trade by the young lady, or else waiting until she's finally concluded her business. She's got a small basket that she's been adding items to since you came in, and which is looking relatively full.
Or you could just conclude the transaction for the potions, leave, and conjure your own equivalent of Gen's containers when you need one. Your skill at Conjuration Magic is solid, and you could make one that would last indefinitely, which is more than you need.
"In that case, sir," you say, "I'd like to purchase some magical restoratives. That is, if you have any available?"
"As it happens, I do. One moment, if you please."
Gen fetches the same little tray of potion bottles he brought out on your first visit. This time around, there are more of the little clay containers, but the distinctive glass one holding the Great Fairy's Tears is nowhere to be seen.
Mindful of the other person still in the shop, you let Gen give you the same seller's spiel about his wares that he did months ago. You note in passing that his prices for Spring Dew and Smoke Water haven't changed, a state of affairs that supports what he said back then about there not being much call for this particular type of product. After making a brief show of consideration, you purchase two of each.
Gen blinks in clear surprise, and you can SEE in his face the question he doesn't ask aloud: "What the heck are you planning that could need THAT much magic at a moment's notice?"
It's a fair question, and a believeable reaction.
Gained Smoke Water x2
Gained Spring Dew x2
Spent $400 in store credit
Handing Gen a few bills as a cover, and then accepting an equal amount of different money as "change," you tuck your purchases into your dimensional pocket, thank the old man for his time, and head for the door.
"Thank you, and by all means, please come again!" he calls in your wake.
As the door swings shut in your wake, you look around to confirm the coast is clear, and then duck behind Gen's shop to work two ritual spells. The first is a Spell of Protection, tweaked to ward off water rather than directly harmful substances like acid or fire - just a little practical precaution, in case it's already raining at your teleport site. Your second spell is, of course, the ritual teleport itself.
After the usual brief glimpse of the green-tinted astral side - a phenomenon so familiar by now that you could almost be tempted to stop paying attention to it - you pop back into reality in the desert.
Hmmm.
Well, the good news is, you beat the rain, if not the storm itself. The sky isn't entirely dark yet, but the leading mass of the clouds has already passed your current location, the wind is blowing at a fair clip - which is another point in your favor, if you think about - and the air has that particular feel that always precedes a good downpour. The rain could start falling any minute now.
You look out at the dusty fields and rocky hills around you, and find the prospect of water falling upon the desert to be very... appealing, somehow.
Checking your reserves and doing some quick calculations, you figure it will take you about eleven minutes and twelve percent of your maximum mana to cast all the spells you have in mind in the "short form." That, plus the magic you'll have to work once you're airborne in order to gather the elemental reagent you desire, shouldn't be so great an expenditure that you're unable to completely top off your mana reserve with a good night's sleep. Certainly not if you tack on a few hours of meditation tonight and/or tomorrow.
Ritual-casting everything would save you about nine percent of your mana, but as you eye the oncoming storm, you decide that you don't really have a quarter-hour to spare. Performing the Ritual of Major Creation takes ten minutes of uninterrupted effort, and all things being equal, you'd rather not see how much of a distraction a rainstorm can be.
Just to be on the safe side, you cast that spell first, and for your efforts, are rewarded with two tall, thick glass bottles - or maybe jars is a better term - with thick stoppers that wedge tightly into their mouths. You were considering trying for a third, but the spell you used is only meant to produce single items that are all of the same material - or, in the case of your Conjured Book, of very closely-related materials. Getting it to turn out two separate items, that were themselves of two separate parts, took more effort than you were expecting; anything more could have disrupted the spell.
Gained Conjuration B
Still, you have your containers, and some quick magical probing shows that - while perhaps not ENTIRELY air-tight - they're close enough that they'll be able to contain a Wind reagent without risk of contamination or evacuation for a week or so. And that's assuming you don't stick them into your dimensional pocket - which you were planning to do - or take other measures to strengthen the air-seal.
Stashing the bottles for the moment, you quickly run through the array of protective spells.
Endure Elements, for the cold.
Three different versions of Resist Energy, to ward you against harm from hailstones, lightning bolts, and thunder you might encounter at a higher altitude.
A variation on the Spell of Flight, hopefully with enough thrust to overcome the storm winds you're HOPING to encounter.
And lastly, a HEAVILY modified Spell of Silence, which SHOULD leave a small area at its center - and anyone in it - free to converse with anyone else in the same area normally, or to cast spells with verbal components, while no-selling any sonic effects originating from further out. The Spell to Resist Thunder is mostly a backup precaution, in case this one fails or just doesn't work as planned.
Gained Mana Concealment B (Plus)
"Testing, testing, one, two, three," Briar chimes in.
Her voice sounds very odd in the unnatural silence that surrounds you both.
"Sounds good so far," you reply, before pausing.
Your voice doesn't sound any better than hers.
"So far," she repeats emphatically, giving the dark clouds a wary glance. "I have to say, partner, as far as your crazy plans go, this one is up there with fighting the giant electric squid."
"I'll take that as a compliment," you say.
"Wasn't meant as one."
Preparations made, all that remains is your destination. The safest approach to collecting your desired reagent would be to try and get ahead of the storm front, or even over it, but you're not sure you can pull that off in any reasonable time-frame. Cloudbanks are VERY big, and even your amped-up flight spell will only let you go so fast. Flying around behind the clouds is out altogether; the storm simply covers too great an area, and you don't have that much light left.
A less-safe but more time-friendly approach would be to simply ascend until you're a bit short of entering the actual clouds. You'll be directly exposed to any and all precipitation the cloud happens to unleash, of course, and there's some chance of getting pegged by a lightning bolt - though you haven't seen or heard any evidence of such yet. The main drawback here is that you might not get the best quality of reagent. Even if you're directly in the storm's path, the area immediately beneath the clouds is going to have a stronger influence of various forms of Water, plus that non-zero potential for Lightning and Thunder.
The other options involve flying into and through the clouds, and then doing your reagent collection somewhere inside, or else right on top. The former location would have the same issues as gathering a reagent underneath the clouds, only much more so, but it would also provide the strongest reagent by far, as you'd be in the conceptual "heart" of the storm. Going up and out the top would probably get you the strongest pure Wind reagent possible, but you'd have to run an extended gauntlet. Twice.
Your gaze is drawn towards the thickest, darkest part of the cloud formation, the very center of the storm.
"I don't like that look, Alex," Briar says slowly. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that the best quality reagents could come from two places," you reply. "One, at the very top of the storm. And second..." You trail off with a wordless nod towards your intended destination.
Briar turns slowly, following your line of sight to the heart of the storm.
Inside the cloud, lightning flashes - eerily silent to your ears, thanks to the bubble of magical silence wrapped around you.
As if that were a cue, the rain begins to fall.
"...you're serious," Briar says a moment later.
Silently, you nod.
"For the record, Alex, this plan is rapidly approaching 'choosing to fight Dark Link' levels of lunacy."
"I was going to add a Spell of Protection From Electricity before we go," you add. "You know, just in case."
"...okay, a LITTLE less crazy than that," Briar admits. "But would you mind throwing together a familiar pocket for me before you take off? Because even with all of this" - she gestures around at your array of protective magic - "there's no way I'm going to be able to keep up with you in the middle of that, and if I try hanging on the usual way, I'm just going to get blown away."
That's... a very good point, actually, and one you probably should have thought of. But the request is easily granted, and even if it does cost you some additional mana, you don't begrudge your partner the energy.
After Briar has disappeared into her temporary shelter, you turn to the Spell of Protection From Energy, wreathing yourself in a layer of energy that will selectively counter any hazardous levels of electrical activity you encounter. You spend a minute considering the spell formula before actually casting it, trying to find a way to get this magic "underneath" the Spell to Resist Lightning that you already have going, so that any thunderbolt that hits you will have its power reduced by the Spell of Resistance BEFORE it hits the ablative defense of the Spell of Protection. You're forced to concede, however, that this simply isn't possible.
Although both spells are meant to prevent the target from suffering harm, the Spell of Resistance achieves this by making you progressively more tolerant of increased levels of dangerous energy. As its name implies, however, the spell never grants true immunity to the energy in question - while weak elemental attacks can be prevented from doing any harm, sufficiently-powerful ones can still overcome your resistance. The Spell of Protection DOES grant immunity, even if only temporarily, and "immunity" takes precedent over "resistance" on a conceptual level.
Since you can't change how the spells interact with each other for a more optimal defense, you instead divert a little extra mana into the Spell of Protection From Electricity, raising the amount of damage it can absorb. Your Hellmouth-trained instincts prevent you from going too far with this, but you push as much power into the spell as you think you can conceal.
A quick check of your surroundings confirms there wasn't any leakage.
Satisfied that you're as well-prepared as you can be, you gather your ki, get a running start, and leap into the air - and then, as the Spell of Flight kicks in, you keep going.
You're not making a direct vertical ascent, but the angle is steep enough that you lose some speed in exchange for overcoming gravity. Despite that, you're still moving pretty fast - not as fast as you would in a Body Flicker, but faster than you do with Ki Enhancement. You barely notice the rain, which slides off your Spell to Resist Water even faster than it would a car windshield, and the wind isn't so strong as to present an obstacle to your passage. At least not yet.
Gained Flight (Magical) D (Plus)
As the ground falls away beneath you, you experience an impulse to...
...laugh in delight.
You've used magic to fly before this, on a number of occasions. Most of the time, however, that "flight" has been more in the nature of "low-altitude hovering," and taken place indoors, underground, or - as was the case in the Memorian Outpost - both. You've never made a true ascent into the open skies before.
On a similar note, while you've certainly moved this fast before - faster, even - it was never while you were flying. Even under Maximum Power, you're still subject to the will of gravity; it's just that you happen to have enough force to draw out every last fraction of a second of hang time from your acrobatic maneuvers, before reaching the inevitable conclusion.
This, though?
This is speed, and altitude, and leaving gravity and the ground and everything they bring with them behind.
It's an incredible feeling, and you can't stop yourself from laughing in delight at the sensation.
You don't even try.
Gained Wind Affinity F (Plus)
Up until this point, you'd been flying in a loose standing pose, letting your spell carry you upward and onward in a manner somewhat akin to an elevator. Now you lean forward, arms extending ahead of you, legs held straight out behind, and head tilted slightly up in a pose that mimics Superman and a hundred other comic book characters.
You're not sure if this aerial take on a swimmer's pose makes you any more aerodynamic, but it feels right, if a little uncomfortable for various muscles that aren't used to holding this particular position.
The grin doesn't leave your face as you continue to climb, but as the seconds tick past into one minute, and then two, and then several, your expression shifts. You were intellectually AWARE that clouds were high up, but actually making the trip drives it home that you are Really High Up, and going higher with every second.
The rain is coming down heavily, now, and the winds are picking up, but with the various protective spells you have in place, you hear none of it, and feel only slightly more - the push of the wind against the envelope of your Spell of Flight, and a faint sensation of water droplets striking you and pouring away to the sides, leaving you dry as a bone in their wake. Between your increasing altitude, the wind, and the water, you should be losing body heat by now, but you don't feel even a hint of a chill.
Well, maybe a slight one. But that's more to do with how distant the ground has become, and how many of the details of its appearance are blurring and fading under the advancing gloom of the evening storm.
Then you reach the lowest level of the clouds. What appeared like thin fingers and loose puffballs from below are much, much bigger up here in their realm, roiling banks of dark fog that could easily engulf most of the buildings in Sunnydale - and they're nothing compared to the main mass of the storm, which is like the dark face of a moving mountain range.
That non-physical chill increases, but you push it aside and keep going.
Higher, higher...
*FLASH*
It's over and gone before you can fully register it, a lightning bolt that splits the sky ahead of you, turning the world white before you reflexively force your eyes shut and cover them with one arm for good measure.
As the sting eases and the psychological shock fades, you take stock of your defenses and realize that the lightning didn't hit you. It was "just" close enough for the glare to be painful - kind of like looking directly at a light fixture when it's turned on in a previously-dark room.
You think for a moment, and then cast a cantrip based on the Spell of Darkness, layering it over your eyes to try and reduce the glare of future encounters with lightning. Then you resume your climb, and a minute later, are swallowed by the storm-clouds.
The ground far below vanishes from sight, leaving you alone and without a frame of reference in the roiling darkness. That would be a serious problem, if you couldn't sense the elemental energies of the storm: simple in form; spread out over a vast area; but carrying more raw power than anyone or anything you've encountered, with the singular exception of the leyline you sensed when Ambrose was setting up the wardstone in your basement. Where the leyline was Earth and Fire, the storm around you is Wind and Water, shot through with Ice, Lightning, and Thunder.
Focusing your senses, you search for the greatest concentration of those forces. And then, you fly straight for it.
Gained Ice Affinity F
Gained Lightning Affinity F
Gained Thunder Affinity F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Water Affinity F (Plus) (Plus)
It takes you several minutes more to reach the heart of the storm. In that time, you have three more close encounters with lightning, the last of which actually DOES strike you. Your Spell of Protection From Electricity absorbs the bolt, expending about a fifth of its own strength in exchange, while the cantrip of Darkness you used to shield your eyes reduces the dazzling brilliance of the flash to a tolerable glare.
The Sphere of Silence holds out under the accompanying thunderclap, but while you still hear nothing, you register a worrying sort of "wobble" in the spell's structure, indicating that it may not be as impervious to sonic effects as you'd hoped. Whether that's a consequence of the modifications you made to the magic, or because natural thunder and lightning are just THAT powerful, you're not sure.
If you hadn't already decided to teleport back to the surface after your reagent harvesting was done, this would have sold you on it.
Reaching into your dimensional pocket, you produce one of your new reagent bottles, and remove the thick glass cork with a low "pop." Sticking the cork back in your pocket for a moment, you let your mana flow as you begin the process of gathering the elemental forces around you into a somewhat more tangible form. The task isn't as structured as a spell, but it's also not something that just any spellcaster could do. It requires a level of skill and experience to work with the sheer amount of energy involved, to collect the fundamental ESSENCE of the storm without tapping into the POWER it represents, and which surrounds you on all sides...
Thinking on it, it's a lot like how Ambrose said that tapping into leylines was a Really Bad Idea. Exactly like that, in fact, except that the primary elements of a storm are the exact opposite of those bound up in a leyline, and give it a much less compact and focused nature.
That very diffusion may be the main reason why you're able to do this without frying yourself.
As your thoughts turn over themselves, a... shape... forms in front of you. As with the greater mass of the storm, whose appearance you suspect it closely reflects, the object's aura is primarily Wind and Water, with traces of Lightning, Thunder, and Ice.
Looking at the shifting shape, you can sense that it isn't quite fully-formed, but also that its incomplete existence is tugging on the power of the storm. Through Mage Sight, you can make out "funnels" of Elemental Wind and Water spiralling in towards the developing core, the "Heart of the Storm," if you will. There is also a building charge of Lightning... make that TWO charges...