Xander Quest

by Throwaway1971

All credit goes to the OG author Judge Mental on SB

288. The Endless Eight(h Year) 6

Thinking it over, you decide to stay put. The grove is a perfectly nice location, and once you're out from under the tree at the center, you've got a fine view of the sky and the celestial ballet that's currently taking place in it.

There's also the fact that you just completed a not-insignificant magical working, which means you're going to be walking bait for supernatural shenanigans until your aura has settled down a bit and the lingering essence of your spellcasting has faded.

True, there's a chance that the ceremony will pass unnoticed under the mystical shadow of the eclipse, or that anyone or anything capable of detecting your spellwork will be too busy pursuing their own eclipse-related interests to spare the time and effort to investigate.

But why take the chance?

If trouble appears here, there are no innocent bystanders or vulnerable civilian-types to be put at risk. You, Altria, and Lu-sensei can all fight, Navi's a Great Fairy, and while you don't know exactly what Anna Drake is capable of, you STRONGLY doubt that her parents would have failed to teach her how to look after herself in an emergency. There's also no real constraints on any of you, or the methods you can use to defend yourselves and your companions, beyond not wrecking the grove.

You can't say that the same would be the case for wherever Lucia is right now. A single tourist looking in the wrong direction when you dropped out of teleportation would be enough to make things very awkward, and if someone had a camera set up, or a gang of demons suddenly appeared...

No, it's best all around if you stay put for the moment.

And so you do.

The eclipse comes and goes in just a few minutes. You can't escape a shiver as the essence of Elemental Darkness peaks-

!

-um.

"Everybody else is seeing that, right?" you ask, as dark wings fill the sky.

"The birds, you mean?" Anna Drake returns.

"Those... are not birds," Lu-sensei says.

You see Altria's sister blink behind her glasses, and then squint - and then pale.

Bats.

Dozens, possibly hundreds of the little flying mammals are taking flight from every direction, forming up into a single squeaking mass of leathery wings that bears east and south at a rather impressive pace.

If you look close - and you do - you can see MORE bats linking up with those ones in the distance, the single colony-on-the-wing growing into a cloud of living darkness.

...

...Dracula is NOT going for the subtle approach at ALL, is he?

"Damn Dark Lords," Navi mutters, clearly sharing your thoughts. "Bad enough they can't stop making trouble for everyone else, but do they always have to show off in the process?"

...

You aren't entirely sure how to take that remark.

Fortunately, you have a fairy.

Briar snorts. "Nut, meet acorn."

"Hush, you."

The flight of the bats is over pretty quickly, as is the eclipse proper. In their wake, you find that you're left with somewhat less of an appetite than you might have expected, despite it being half an hour or so until noon.

You're about to suggest staying here for lunch anyway, but before you can speak up, you catch a very faint hum coming from Altria's left-side pocket. She quickly takes out her cellphone, checks the number, and says that it's her mother calling.

"Hello, Mother. Yes, we saw the bats. Yes, they were rather... concerning. Yes, Alex is done. It was. It wasn't. Yes, Mother, I'm quite sure. Very well, one moment." Lowering the phone to her chest, Altria faces you and Navi. "Mother would appreciate it if we were to return to the house as soon as possible."

"Completely understandable, dear," Navi says.

So much for a picnic lunch.

A minute later, Navi has returned your party to the front gate of the Drake Estate. Your arrival finds the staff of the gate-house on alert, which in this instance, means armed guards flanking the door. And by "armed," you mean wearing modern body armor, carrying rifles, and with swords, knives, and grenades strapped to their belts.

They twitch visibly at your group's appearance from thin air, but are professional enough to not start shooting.

Altria and Anna go through the process of identifying themselves to the guards, after which you, Lu-sensei, and Briar are swept over with handheld scanning devices. Two are purely technological, but the third - which has a long shard of rune-carved stone wedged into the metal frame - is obviously magical.

The guard holding that one passes it over you, blinks at whatever reaction it displays, brings it back over you, and then repeats the process AGAIN.

"Problem, Collins?" one of the guards asks.

"I think this thing is on the fritz, sir," Collins replies, holding up the runestone scanner. "It's saying that the kid registers as a Class Ten caster."

"Which category?"

"All of them, sir."

Every guard in earshot does a double-take at Collins, then looks at the scanner he's holding, and then turns to you.

---

You meet the collective stares for a moment, and then say, "I have no idea what that means."

Some of the looks aimed at you turn disbelieving.

"Okay, I have a GUESS," you admit. "I mean, it's pretty clear that it's a measure of magical capability, but how is the scale determined? What does 'Class Ten' mean?"

"Ambrose based it on what he calls a 'universal spell to detect and analyze magical emanations,'" Altria quotes. "He said that the vast majority of magic-users and supernatural beings can be classified within twenty levels of raw power and trained skill, and roughly a dozen different categories distinguished by what they can actually DO."

Well, if the "universal spell" Altria mentioned is what you know as the Spell to Detect Magic - and it probably is, seeing as how every magical style you and Briar are aware of has its own take on that particular piece of magic - then the "dozen" different categories would have to be the ten major schools of magic, with an eleventh "school" to cover undifferentiated magical energy. As for the "twenty levels" bit, you are familiar with an approach to categorizing magical ability which uses that format. The Spell to Detect Magic isn't precise enough to analyze magical effects in THAT much detail, but that's because it's first and foremost a combat spell. It's meant to be quick and easy to cast, which requires a degree of simplicity in its design and effects, and it has to be robust, so that it isn't overloaded by the energies present on a magical battlefield. That combination of factors limits how sensitive such magic can be, before it becomes worthless.

Ambrose could have easily worked up a more accurate means of measuring magical power, as well as the secondary effects necessary to make it practical outside of laboratory conditions, and then worked the resulting spell into this runestone device.

In any case, if you consider your own magical abilities according to the paradigm Altria described, in their default or "resting" state, with no magical suppression or invocation of additional power via rituals, while keeping in mind that your skills are somewhat diminished when compared to an adult practitioner's...

You nod. "Alright, then. That does sound about right."

If you wanted to be completely accurate, you're not truly "Class Ten" in every category: your Illusion Magic, for example, falls behind the curve; and your grasp of Summoning Magic is rather ahead of it. Overall, however, it's pretty close to the average of all your magical abilities.

...and the Drakes' security people are staring at you again.

"Miss Drake?" the one who seems to be in charge says, half-turning to Altria.

"He can match or better me in a spar when we're both going all-out, Mr. Daniels," your friend says. "And dealing with him has literally driven Ambrose to drink at least once."

The guard hesitates, and then nods.

The only further delay in getting your group inside is Navi. When Collins points the runestone at her, it starts spitting sparks and making funny whimpering noises.

Every one of the guards stares at the device for a moment, before their visor-covered eyes are drawn inexorably to the Great Fairy.

Navi smiles. "If it makes you gentlemen feel any better, I'm not staying."

This doesn't seem to reassure them overmuch, but Navi goes on her way without incident, while the remainder of your party is quickly escorted to the main house, the usual car - driven by Tom Powell, who you need a minute to recognize under all the combat gear - escorted by a couple of two-man buggies.

En route, Tom explains to Altria and Anna that Lucia and the rest of the guests took another car to view the eclipse. Even if they left as soon as things got weird, it would take them another hour or so to make their way back to the estate, and that's assuming there were no issues with traffic.

"Then again, Missus Drake took one of the wizard's emergency exits with 'er," Tom adds. "So if there IS trouble, or she just gets impatient, they could be back any time now."

This visibly relieves the Drake sisters.

As you enter the house, the guards ask you not to wander the house until the current state of emergency has passed.

---

Although the timing (and accompanying special visual effects) of Dracula's resurrection put paid to the idea of a picnic lunch and kind of spoiled your appetite, the point remains that the kitchen staff went to the trouble of making a perfectly good meal for you. It would be both wasteful and ingracious of you not to eat at least some of it.

And besides, whether or not you FEEL hungry, it's coming up on half-past eleven, you haven't eaten anything since breakfast - which you kept light - and major magical workings can burn just as many calories as strenuous physical activity. You really SHOULD eat something.

At the same time, you're very curious as to what is going on beyond the Drake Estate. While the odds of getting actual information regarding the major supernatural event in progress from the mid-morning news broadcasters is pretty slim, there must be at least SOME interesting tidbits getting through.

You can't exactly fill the sky with bats in the middle of the day and expect people to NOT notice. Particularly not during an eclipse that was scheduled to be watched by millions of people all over Europe, with televised coverage to boot.

When you voice your thoughts, Altria appears to be of a mind with you regarding the food. She also agrees with you, and the rest of the group, about wanting to hear what news is being shared.

This leads to an impromptu indoor picnic in the Drakes' living room, with a couch, a small table, and a chair shoved aside, and the carpet beneath rolled back so that it can be replaced by the blue-and-white striped blanket that was stuffed under the handle of your lunch basket. While you, Altria, and Anna quickly set out the food, Lu-sensei claims one of the seats and fiddles with the remote for the television in front of you.

"-no explanation is yet forthcoming for this unprecedented mass daytime migration-"

"-reports of civil disturbances-"

"-END IS HERE! THE END-"

"-predicted by Nostradamus-"

"-complete nonsense-"

"-unusual atmospheric activity-"

"-fear of riots-"

*KSSSSHHHH*

Huh.

Alright, so people definitely noticed the bats. They're appearing all over Europe, and in the kind of numbers that make you think most, if not all of them, must be some form of magical construct - because there CAN'T be that many bats in the entire WORLD, much less in this, one of the smallest of the continents.

Perhaps because of the sheer number of bats involved and the relatively short amount of time that's passed since their appearance, nobody seems to have figured out where they're all going. Either that, or nobody who's figured it out is willing and able to go on national and international television to share their information.

You can understand why, since you're QUITE certain that all those growing clouds of squeaking doom are on a direct course for southern Romania. Even people who only know Dracula as a figure out of the fantasy horror genre would start to have suspicions after hearing that, although most of them would never deign to voice such thoughts aloud.

"Most" is not "all," however, and while you have yet to hear the Dark Lord's name, at least a few people have reached the conclusion that the growing, eclipse-spawned darkness is a sign that the end of the world is nigh.

Naturally, the media is downplaying that. Not that they have to try very hard; when a man appears in the public eye wearing stained, tatty clothes, looking at least a week overdue for a shave, haircut, and bath, and with wild, staring, dark-ringed eyes that probably haven't enjoyed a good night's sleep in at LEAST that long, all the while raving about the Apocalypse, there's a natural human impulse to distance oneself from the obvious crazy person and whatever madness he's spewing.

The good news is that the talking heads have yet to say anything about "masked protestors," property damage, and/or loss of human life. At this point, the main reaction appears to be completely normal human shock and alarm among the thousands that turned out to see the eclipe in person, and have instead directly witnessed the manifest weirdness.

That said, the eclipse is not over.

Taking a bite from your second sandwich - ham-and-cheese on rye, as it happens - you silently resolve to keep an eye and ear on the television going forward.

"It looked like it hurt, there at the end," Anna Drake says in answer to your question. "Is it supposed to?"

The elder Drake daughter looks slightly bothered as she makes this inquiry, and Altria and Lu-sensei both don similar expressions as they wait for your reply.

"No," you admit. "Forming a familiar bond doesn't normally hurt either party involved. Our case" - you gesture between yourself and Briar - "was very unusual, though."

You quickly recount how you and Briar already had something akin to a familiar bond, due to your close association and the unwanted influence of the Hellmouth. Part of the ritual involved severing and cleansing that corrupted link, which is where the majority of the pain came from. It's possible to end a normal familiar bond without pain for either party, but that requires mutual consent and effort; if the breaking of the link is unilaterally FORCED, whether by magical means or by their own death, there's an unavoidable backlash.

You and Briar both wanted the link gone, but the Hellmouth's influence ensured that it hurt you regardless.

Forming the new bond immediately after purging the old one likely didn't do you any favors in that regard, but better to have it over and done with all at once. A broken familiar bond isn't usually damaging, but why give the Hellmouth a chance to work its ugly magic and make things worse?

Your explanation visibly relieves your audience, Anna in particular.

"This just in!" a newscaster says, drawing your attention back to the television. "A major disturbance is in progress at Westminster Palace! We go now, live, to our on-scene correspondent!"

The picture cuts out, and-

!

-oh, crap.

"What in the name of God...?" the reporter whispers into a microphone that he's on the verge of dropping, as he stares at a scene out of nightmare.

You didn't recognize the name Westminster Palace, but you know that tower: Big Ben is one of those iconic structures, a sight that's hard to forget and near-impossible to confuse with any other.

But now something is dreadfully wrong with the landmark. Swirling tendrils of screaming bats have descended from the black cloud overhead to flock about the tower's upper reaches, their countless wings casting a shadow so deep that it seems to stain the century-old stone black.

And that shadow is spreading, seeping over and across and down the facade of the clock tower with a slow, liquid motion.

Almost like blood.

Within that sanguine darkness, there is movement. Silhouettes that writhe and struggle within the flowing pitch, as if trapped and struggling to escape, shapes that could almost be human, if they were not so thin, so... skeletal.

You can almost hear them screaming, and you pray that it's just your imagination.

...

You don't think it is.

The camera pans up towards the top of the tower, taking in the facade of the clock - and it's not Big Ben anymore. The bleeding darkness has surrounded the clock with strange grotesques and gargoyles, while the great mechanism itself has been warped. Roman numerals have been replaced by arcane symbols, while the black steel hands are now an unsettling off-white hue, ending in gleaming crescents rather than the familiar arrow-heads.

Before your eyes, the minute hand shifts one step closer to the approaching hour that SHOULD be noon.

You do not hear the "tick" of the terrible clock.

You FEEL it.

Perched atop the joint of the two hands of the corrupted mechanism is an inhumanly tall figure clad in a hooded robe, the material of which contrives to somehow be an even deeper black than the sky overhead or the unnatural shadow that has overtaken Big Ben. Two tiny points of light burn like dying stars in the void of its hood, and in one hand - long-fingered and fleshless - it grasps a twisted shaft of wood.

Above the figure's head spreads a wicked scythe-blade.

THE HOUR IS COME AT LAST, proclaims a voice that bypasses your ears to lodge the meaning of its words straight into your brain. THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS WILL WALK THE WORLD ONCE MORE.

YOU CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT! REJOICE! FOR YOUR LORD AND MASTER RETURNS!

YOU CHILDREN OF MEN! REJOICE! FOR THE BRINGER OF YOUR END DRAWS NEAR!

AND YOU, BRAVE SOULS WHO WOULD STAND FOR THIS WORLD!

And why, oh WHY, does it feel like those chilling, supernova eyes are looking at you, through the camera?

REJOICE! FOR TODAY, YOUR STRUGGLES-

The malevolent monologue is interrupted by the appearance of a shining figure in classic full plate, blazing like a larger version of Altria as he rockets towards the face of the clock, cape billowing behind him and wings of white-tinted golden power driving him onwards.

The scythe swings down, as if to intercept the incoming sword-strike.

There is a brilliant flash, and the signal cuts out with a wave of static, before being replaced by a card identifying the station and proclaiming technical difficulties.

"Well," Lu-sensei says after a moment. "I'm glad to see that someone is on top of things."

"Altria," Anna says slowly, "did that armor look like Father's to you?"

"It did," Altria admits. Then she sighs. "Mother is going to kill him."

You blink at your blonde friend's remark.

Her father just went after what looked like the GRIM REAPER on NATIONAL TELEVISION, and she thinks he should be worried about his WIFE?

---

"Okay," you say after a moment. "I'll admit it; your Dad is pretty cool."

Anna starts, as if surprised to hear you speak.

Altria smiles. "We like him."

You were going to say more on that subject - the idea of calling Mr. Drake "Second Best Dad" or "Best European Dad" came to mind - but Altria's reaction to your opening line has you reconsidering.

Your friend may be smiling, but there is a faint tremor in her expression and in her words which tells you clearly that she is not taking the televised spectacle of her father going up against the Avatar of Death quite so calmly as she first tried to make it seem.

It also occurs to you that there is a half-eaten sandwich sitting on the paper plate next to Altria. It's only her fourth helping, but she put it down when the latest news broke, and hasn't touched it since.

So, yeah. If current events have managed to put Altria off her food, joking about her father would probably not be a good idea.

...

Damn it. Now you're worried about your own family.

"I think I should borrow a phone and check in with my parents," you say, to no one in particular.

"Hold off on that for a minute, Alex," Lu-sensei says, as he raises the remote control.

"But Sensei-"

"There's something I think we should confirm, before you go waking your parents up at four in the morning."

After a quick check with the Drake sisters, your teacher changes the channel from local stations to CNN.

"-rioting in London," the well-dressed, neatly-coiffed commentator is saying. "We'll be keeping an eye on the situation there, and updating as more information becomes available. In related news, we have confirmed reports of outbreaks of violence in cities across Europe, including Bucharest, Berlin, Madrid, Paris, and Rome. Police forces deployed in anticipation of civil unrest during the eclipse are responding, but the scope and scale of the disturbances have already exceeded the worst-case predictions of many experts, and several nations have mobilized military elements to assist in suppressing the violence."

A map of Europe pops up during this presentation, with angry, pulsing red dots marking a dozen different cities across the continent.

The report lasts only another two minutes, and in the end, it tells you a few things:

First, the mass outbreak of supernatural activity appears to be confined to the path of the eclipse, at least for the moment. It's not strictly limited to Europe - even as you watch, the anchor adds the city of Cairo, Egypt, to the list of sites of major unrest - but it's certainly centered there, and does not appear to have spread to other parts of the world as yet.

Second, that news anchor was way too calm. Either he hasn't seen any footage of the Forces of Darkness blotting out the sky, taking over buildings, and proclaiming the return of Dracula, or he's good enough at controlling his reactions not to give anything away.

Third, and tying into the previous bit, there was zero hint of supernatural forces at work. No mention of the clouds of bats covering entire nations, not one word of masked or costumed rioters, and complete silence on the transformation of Big Ben. Everything that's going on is being attributed to purely human activity.

There is no doubt in your mind that someone - quite likely a LOT of someones - is working hard to suppress the truth of what's going on.

"Is that normal, sir?" you ask.

"Unfortunately, yes," Lu-sensei replies with a grimace. "The more organized and farsighted supernatural interest groups make it a point to get their fingers into the local media wherever they operate, so they can spin things to their advantage. Spread some money around here, drop a few threats there, sabotage this or that bit of electronica... and if all else fails, just throw magic at the problem until it goes away." He sighs. "The truly depressing thing is that this kind of behavior isn't limited to the villainous types or the control freaks. Practically the first reaction of any person newly-introduced to the supernatural is to hide it from everyone they know isn't in the know... well, no, that's the second reaction. The FIRST is to rationalize it away, even to yourself."

You think back to your last birthday, when you demonstrated magic for Cordelia and Larry for the first time, and kind of... broke Larry for a while.

You also think of the relatively long period of time you went without telling your parents the same.

"But I'm getting off-topic," your teacher says. "The current situation is far from good, but it also hasn't spread overseas yet. In light of that, Alex, I think we can spare your parents an early wake-up call. If we start hearing about problems in New York, by all means, THEN you can call them." The old man shrugs. "I suspect this will be settled before it gets that far, though."

Before he can say more, or anyone else can speak up, Altria's phone goes off again.

"Yes? Mother! Are you- yes, we're at home. We're fine. I see. That's good. That's... unfortunate. I see. Mother, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have to ask if Father-? Yes, we were watching here. Oh, Ambrose is with him? I was wondering how he got that high, I've never seen... I mean, yes. Yes, Anna is here. One moment."

Altria passes her phone to her sister, and then turns to you, Lu-sensei, and Briar while her sister begins talking quickly with their mother.

"Mother and the others ran into a bit of a problem on their way home," she explains. "They'll be returning using Ambrose's security measure in a moment."

"What happened?" you ask.

"Demons on the road," Altria says shortly. "Mother and Aunt Mary did their best to keep them away, but they were... persistent. And fast. Everyone is fine," she adds quickly, "but the car took enough damage in the process that they're safer traveling the rest of the way by magic."

...you see.

---

Lucia, Mary, Kenneth, and Lance return a few minutes after Altria answered her phone, the teleport-device Ambrose prepared for them having dropped them off just outside the front gate - a precaution, in case the item in question fell into unfriendly hands.

The Drake family immediately go into an extended round of hugging, checking each other over for injuries, and talking with various levels of urgency.

From where you're standing, everyone is basically intact, although it's clear at a glance that they've had an adventure since you last saw them. Lucia and Mary both have tears in their dresses, mostly about the sleeves, their hairstyles are decidedly mussed, and there are a few dark stains on Lucia's garments that could be blood - though if so, none of it is human.

Lucia is also armed with a heavy-looking sword that seems to be as long as she is tall, if not a bit more so. Honestly, it shouldn't be possible for someone of her stature to make any practical use of a weapon of such size, but she carries it seemingly without effort.

Compared to the ladies, Kenneth and Lance just look a bit ruffled and wild-eyed, although they, too, are armed, with plainer, more properly-sized swords that whisper to your senses of Summoning Magic at work.

The next few minutes are very busy.

Lucia splits her time between not letting her daughters out of her sight, issuing orders to various members of the household staff, checking in with you and Lu-sensei, and getting changed into an outfit that is more suited to the battlefield.

The woman doesn't even withdraw to her rooms for that last part. She just has the servants fetch her clothes and bring them to her.

You had just gotten through inquiring of Lucia if she wanted you to attempt to summon some form of celestial aid for her husband. It wouldn't be breaking your promise to Gyokuro - and through her, Akasha - to refrain from summoning monsters until the eclipse was over, as you'd clarified that, if the situation required such magic, you'd stick to calling up servants of the Goddesses.

Lucia thanks you for the offer, but advises against it.

"Arthur and the boys have trained and fought together almost since they could walk," she explains, "and they've worked with Ambrose and their other allies extensively in preparation for today. No one you could send would have that level of coordination, and they'd be far too likely to end up being as much hindrance as help." She frowns. "Then, too, I'm told Dracula has a rather alarming range of creatures under his command, including a few that you'd normally expect to see on the side of the angels. If the boys see an unfamiliar non-human coming towards them... well, it's liable to end poorly."

That's about the point where her new dress arrives, and you and Lu-sensei have to beat a hasty retreat, as Lucia starts undoing the buttons of her damaged outfit right then and there.

Kenneth was dragged off by his mother when SHE went to get changed, but Lance is out in the hall with you, and actually was out of the room before you realized there was even a reason to leave.

"I take it this isn't uncommon behavior for her?" you ask him.

The older boy's wordless, long-suffering look is all the answer you need.

Shortly after that, you're informed that it's safe to go back into the living room. You do so cautiously, and find that Lucia - now wearing a close-fitting pantsuit of red, white, and gold - has taken up the remote and is flipping between channels, spending just long enough on each to see what is being broadcast.

The violence touched off by the eclipse is clearly the story of the hour, and is now being covered even on stations that weren't previously running news programs. For all that the talking heads are saying about the situation, however, it's clear that the supernatural agencies are hard at work obscuring the details.

The British news, for example, is focused almost entirely on the events taking place around Big Ben, but it's all "defacement of a national monument" this, "moral outrage" that, and speculation about which extremist groups might be involved, none having yet come forward to claim responsibility for the attack. Not one word is being said about a seeping darkness, Grim Reapers, or knights in shining armor, and the only image shown is a stock photo of the clock tower under a clear sky.

The international news channels are no better. There's more mention of violence, and some newscasters are admitting that explosions have been reported in certain cities. A lot of "experts" are blaming things on criminal organizations, conspiracy theorists, political and religious extremists, and good old fashioned human superstition and panic - anything and everything BUT the supernatural.

"There is something painfully ironic in all of this," Lucia notes sourly. "The average magus couldn't program a VCR to save his life, and yet when it comes to controlling the media, even up to the international level..." She waves the hand that ISN'T still holding her sword at the TV screen, her tone half-impressed, half-disgusted, and one hundred percent angered by what she's seeing and hearing. Or more correctly, by what she ISN'T seeing and hearing.

It occurs to you that you could try to use your Divination Magic to remotely observe events in progress. It would be a bit of a strain, given your lingering weariness from the Familiar Binding Ritual, but you think you could cast the Greater Spell of Scrying once without issue, which would at least be enough to find out what's going on with Arthur Drake. Seeing as how Divination is one of your strongest magical talents and you have Arthur's wife and children with you, you could punch through a lot of anti-scrying effects, even if they were set up by experienced and powerful casters.

Really, your major concerns with the idea are that Dracula might somehow be jamming you - whether by dint of all the power floating around for his revival, or some active effect placed over his territory and minions - and that you might not WANT to see what sort of trouble Arthur is in at the moment.

He WAS fighting the Reaper, last you saw, and on top of a Clock Tower that looked like it was seconds away from spawning dozens of monsters in an almost Alien-like fashion. That had the potential to end... badly. Or just be really, really gross.

---

Swallowing your concerns about what you might see, you catch Lucia's attention and ask her if she'd like you to cast a Spell of Scrying to try and see what Arthur is doing.

Lady Drake's head turns to regard you for a moment, before she asks, "You can do that?"

"I can."

In a heartbeat, Lucia has dropped the TV remote and crossed half the living room to stand RIGHT next to you, grabbing your shoulder.

"Yipe!" Briar exclaims, as she dodges out of the way.

"Hallway," Lucia says, as she turns you about. "Mirror. NOW."

For a brief moment, you consider protesting Lucia's near-miss of Briar, or at least mentioning that you don't actually NEED a mirror to focus the spell in question. However, taking Lucia's slightly-unsteady grip and intense expression into account, you decide that there is no benefit to be had in arguing with a crazy lady with a really big sword.

Besides, you can always ask her for an apology later.

With Altria, Anna, and Lu-sensei hurrying along in your wake, you adjourn to the hallway - again - where you offer no resistance as Lucia steers you to the right and then down the corridor, until you come to a large mirror in a fancy wooden frame, tastefully adorned with hints of gold.

Releasing you, Lucia gestures at the hanging glass. "If you please, Alex."

You make with the magic.

Casting the spell consumes no more time or mana than normal, but with the fatigue from the Familiar Binding Ritual already dragging at you, it nonetheless leaves you feeling more wearied than even a spell of the seventh circle really ought to. As you shape the magic, you think that you could manage one more spell of this degree today - perhaps two, if you cast one or both of them ritually.

In passing, you wonder if THIS is anything like what regular spellcasters feel, when they're approaching the limits of their strength.

If so, it's ANNOYING.

At the final stage of the spell, you reach out to touch the mirror, anchoring the magic to the focus, which you see no real reason NOT to use, as long as it's there and Lucia is expecting it. The spell takes effect-

!

-and almost immediately, SOMETHING tries to wrench it away from its intended target. You wrench back, fixing the image and idea of Arthur Drake in your mind and WILLING the magic to work.

The resistance holds, and for an instant you can almost... not SEE it, exactly, but you're aware of what is trying to block you.

And WHAT is very much the correct word, not WHO. There isn't a conscious mind working against you - the defense is too static for that - only power and a vague will. It's steeped in Darkness, and worse than Darkness, and carries a feeling of great age, mingled with a surprising newness.

Gained Corruption Resistance D (Plus) (Plus)

There's also a sensation reminiscent of your experiences with teleportation and dimension-altering magic, as if space in and around whatever-it-is was somehow being warped.

Probably whatever happened to Big Ben, then.

As you get a measure of what you're up against, you conclude that, on your own, you wouldn't be able to break through it - not without resorting to an even more powerful Spell of Scrying, calling on the Goddesses, or just pouring your Power into the magic and hoping it worked. Maybe, if you had more time to work, and were willing to set up something relying on your own affinity for the Darkness, to try and slip past this passive defense...

Fortunately, that isn't necessary. You have Lucia, Anna, and Altria with you, and through them, you have a strong link to Arthur Drake, as the head of his family, as husband, and as father.

There is a shudder from your opposition, which subsequently crumbles away.

The mirror fills with shadows, which quickly take on color, and then resolve into actual images.

You see a room- no, make that a chamber with great stone walls, from which protrude platforms of cracked stone, age-eaten wood, and rusty steel. Rickety stairs are scattered about, some leading from shelf to shelf, others stopping abruptly in mid-air, and yet more going straight into the wall. Sometimes there is even a doorway, or at least a window. All are covered by the dust of ages, which has settled on any horizontal surface to a depth of an inch or more.

In direct contrast to that apparent state of neglect are the gears: huge, brightly-polished, large-toothed clockwork gears that hang all about the vast, unroofed chamber. Some turn freely on shafts that look too thin or too poorly-anchored to support their size. Others grind against one another, producing a constant cacaphonous clamor that grates against the ear and fills the air, drowning out other sounds that should be present.

The only light in the huge space - which you've recognized as the interior of a tower, one that goes up, and up, and UP with no sign of ending - comes from an abundance of small candelabras, scattered about with no obvious pattern or purpose. Their illumination is irregular, leaving large portions of the chamber dimly-lit at best, if not entirely dark.

And within those shadows, monsters are moving.

Figures clad in full, ornately-decorated plate armor march along the platforms. Most bear heavy shields on their left arms and carry double-bladed axes in their right hands, but a few are armed with long-hafted spears instead. Most avoid the stairs, either not trusting them to hold their weight, or being incapable of registering their use - for behind the visors of each helmet, you see not the faces of warriors, but only blazing wisps of soul-stuff, bound by dark magic.

Borne aloft by weird sorcery, disembodied heads fly about the chamber in strange patterns, weaving in and out of the gears and shafts, never quite hitting. They resemble women, and even with their red eyes and fangs, they might be mistaken for the remains of innocent victims of the powers of darkness, if not for the nest of hissing snakes each one has in place of hair.

Skeletons clatter about, as devoid of armor as they are of flesh. Perhaps by dint of that lack of mass, or simply from a complete lack of intelligence and any sense of self-preservation, they leap between the platforms, sending up clouds of dust and never - quite - falling through to the lower levels. Their only weapons aside from too-sharp teeth and claws are bits of their own bodies, grasped in a manner that betrays their purpose as clubs, or perhaps crude javelins.

Everywhere, hanging from any surface that does not move, you see bats, black-furred and with dark red webbing in their wings, like the magical manifestations stirred up by the Dark Lord's resurrection. Yet these, you feel, are more real than those magical constructs, not to mention more dangerous to the unprepared soul who gets too close. In the shadows below - or above? - their upside-down heads, candlelight glints off the tips of disproportionately large fangs that any Keese would gladly claim.

But all these things are not the focus of the image.

That honor goes to Arthur, who is even now smashing aside one of those spindly skeletons, without even calling upon mana to strengthen his limbs. He is not using the sword he faced the Reaper with, but the blade is sheathed at his side, evidently ready to be drawn again when needed; in its place, the knight wields a studded mace that glows faintly in the murk.

Gained Club Training F (Plus) (Plus)

Around you, the Drake ladies noticeably relax. Not completely, and not even all that much, but the relief is there.

No one speaks as Arthur gradually works his way up through the tower, pulverizing bones, splattering aside the smaller, fleshier foes, and - with a flare of distinctly divine-flavored power from the mace - hammering through the defenses of one of the axe-wielding spectral knights like they weren't even there. The rocket-like jumping you saw him use earlier is nowhere in evidence now, but considering how cluttered the room is with obstacles and aggressors, to say nothing of the treacherous footing, you can hardly blame the man.

You also see evidence that Arthur is not alone in his ascension. A huge knight that you'd be willing to bet was Mr. Pritchard is covering his back, spear at the ready, and you catch glimpses of a third armored figure - Eric Drake, maybe? - bringing up the rear.

There are also two other figures present. One is Ambrose, who's wearing his full wizard regalia - staff and hat included, this time - but is strolling along between the knights, like the tower is just an interesting piece of architecture he's decided to take a tour of.

The other individual is a stranger to you, a young woman - more of a teenager, you think - whose brown hair is pulled back in a single tail, and who wears a curious white coat, brown leggings, and tall boots. Her right hand is covered by a gauntlet that almost glows with magical energy to your senses, and in her left hand, she holds... a riding crop?

Ambrose is carrying on a one-sided conversation with the girl, who looks very much like she wants to kill something.

In spite of everything, Lucia whistles. "Living particularly dangerously today, are we, wizard?"

---

You're tempted to make a joke to try and lighten the mood, but you have trouble thinking of one that would be appropriate.

Instead, you ask a question. "Who's the woman with the riding crop?"

"Her name is Lorelei Barthomelloi," Lucia replies. "She's a member of the Mages' Association, and one of the more personally- and politically-powerful, at that. She also happens to have an intense personal dislike of vampires."

"That would explain why she is involved in an action against Dracula's forces," Lu-sensei says agreeably. "Though... not why Ambrose appears to be trying to chat her up in the middle of everything."

"Well, first of all, it's Ambrose."

You and your master nod at that.

So do Altria, Anna, and Briar.

"And second," Lucia continues, "he thinks that the young lady could stand to lighten up. Considerably. Having met the Princess myself, I can't say that I disagree with Ambrose's assessment, merely his choice of methods and lousy timing."

While Lucia has been talking, the party of knights and magic-users has continued their steady advance, moving up a flight of stairs and putting down another of those heavily-armored axe-wielding knights. The three knights have spread out along the short walkway in defensive positions - even as you watch, Arthur smacks another of those flying heads out of the air, Roderick thrusts his spear upward to drive an enemy knight with the same weapon back from striking distance, while Eric - if it is the younger Drake brother under that helm - casually raises his shield to deflect a flung bone.

Gained Club Training F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Shield Training F (Plus)
Gained Spear Training F (Plus)

As easily as the three knights handle them, it's clear to see that these "attacks" are not intended as serious threats, merely as distractions. The creatures of the tower are converging on all sides, far enough back that the knights cannot reach them, and where possible, using the clockworks and bizarre architecture to shield against possible attacks by the two magic-users.

Ambrose regards it all with a grin.

The Barthomelloi woman is less amused, and raises her armored hand.

The tower itself almost seems to shake as a powerful gust of wind surges up from the lower floors, whipping past the human-held platform to roar over, around, and through the spaces occupied by Dracula's minions.

Gained Wind Elementalism D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Some of the armored knights manage to hold fast in the face of the indoor storm, but every other monster you can see is picked up and flung across the chamber by the gale-force winds. Skeletons hit the walls and explode into heaps of broken bone, while similar impacts splatter shrieking bats and flying heads with equal ease.

As for what happens to those that get flung into the gears...

That falls under "things you'd rather not see, ever," and you quickly avert your eyes.

With the tower interior largely cleared of threats - and also all the candles - at least for the moment, the five mortal intruders hold a brief discussion under mage-light, and then move, not towards another staircase, but a particularly large cog that hangs near one end of the platform.

You bear witness as Arthur again leads the way, leaping from solid, steady stone onto the toothed surface of the great grinding gear with a loud clang of steel on steel, moving as if the presence of his armor troubles him not at all.

Gained Armor Proficiency F (Plus) (Plus)

The turning mechanism carries Arthur up and along a distance of perhaps four meters before he leaps off, landing on another platform with a similarly noisy clang. Behind him and past the gear, you see Roderick Pritchard plant his spear in a crack in the stones and make a gentlemanly gesture to Miss Barthomelloi, offering one steel-clad hand. She nods and places her own gauntlet-covered hand in the knight's own - and in the next moment, is half-lifted and half-flung across the gap between the end of the platform and the gear.

The woman lands easily, and rather than wait for the gear to carry her along, strides forward along the teeth, completely unhindered by the awkward footing or the momentum of the machine. Reaching the point where the rotation is about to start carrying her down, Lorelei gathers herself for a textbook-perfect leap and landing.

After assisting the lady mage in her passage, Roderick hands his spear off to Ambrose, who strikes the butt of his staff on the platform and simply levitates himself past the gear.

"I'll leave the acrobatics to you young people," the wizard says. "My old bones just aren't suited to them."

Lorelei glowers at him, and in a tight voice, asks, "And why, precisely, are we wasting time making this ascent on FOOT, if you feel secure in expending a Spell of Levitation for such a minor matter as personal comfort?"

"Tradition, my dear! We walk in the footsteps of such luminaries as the Belmonts, and even the Dark Lord's own son!"

Lorelei's expression is utterly unamused.

"Also, I don't fancy trying to take on the assorted flying and projectile-throwing denizens of this place while levitating half a ton of fully-armored knights about," the wizard adds. "Nor am I about to suggest that we split the party. Unless you'd care to take on the Reaper without them? Just the two of us?" Ambrose waggles his eyebrows.

From the way Lorelei's knuckles are creaking, you're going to say that's a, "No."

"Ah, pity." Ambrose pauses as he touches down on the stone, and then moves out of the way of the two remaining knights. Neither Roderick nor Eric moves quite as easily in their armor as Arthur does, but they have managed to navigate the gaps and the gear all the same.

Ambrose passes the spear he was holding back to its owner, and then says, "Besides, there's another reason for taking the slow route."

"And that is?"

"It makes things more interesting for the audience." And with that, he turns, looks right at you, and waves.

Everyone in the tower stops and stares at him.

"Has he finally cracked, then?" The voice which speaks is definitely Eric Drake's.

"We are being SCRYED on," Lorelei says slowly, with a glance in your direction. "You noticed this... when, exactly?"

"Oh, about a floor and a half ago."

The woman blinks. "And you did NOTHING about it?"

"I know who it is, and they're not a threat."

She doesn't look like she buys that. At ALL.

Perhaps you should send a Message through the Spell of Scrying to explain yourself, before the powerful and evidently short-tempered lady magus does something? Or would it be better to keep your mouth shut and see what happens - or even just turn off the magic here? Lucia did just say that this young woman is a prominent member of the Mages' Association, and Ambrose hasn't expressed a particularly high opinion of that group. You might be better off avoiding contact with them as much as possible.

---

Looking at the situation, you get the feeling that you should make yourself known, before the lady mage decides to do something like disrupt the Spell of Scrying (which you really don't want to try and cast a second time), raise an anti-scrying shield, or start scrying back.

However, based on what little you've heard of the Mages' Association, you're a little leery of making direct contact with one of its high-ranking members - especially under these circumstances.

You turn to Lucia. "If I cast a spell that would let someone speak with them, Miss Lucia, would you mind being the one to do the talking?"

"Not at all, Alex," she assures you.

Good.

It takes little effort to tweak the Message Spell so that another person can act as the "source" of the communication. Making sure that all five members of the tower-climbing party are tied into the magic is also well within your skills - you could include everyone on this side of the mirror as well, but seeing as how you're all close enough to hear Lucia speak, and can already hear what's being said by the group in the tower because of your Scrying Spell, it'd be a little redundant.

Granted, by doing things this way, Altria and Anna won't be able to talk to their father, but looking at Lorelei Barthomeloi, you doubt she'd have put up with such a thing anyway.

You complete your spell, which takes effect despite that unthinking resistance pushing against the newly-applied spell. You spare a moment to mentally test the matrix, and then - satisfied at its stability - signal Lucia that she can speak.

"There's no need for suspicion, Lady Barthomeloi," Lucia says. "This is not a hostile act."

In the mirror, the three knights visibly twitch.

"Lady Drake," the young magus replies, unruffled by the sudden voice from nowhere. "I was not aware you were capable of performing a mystery of this level."

"In fact, I am not. A guest of mine has graciously provided me with the means to check up on my reckless husband. Speaking of whom - Arthur, dear?"

"Yes, love of my life?" the knight replies hopefully.

"Attacking your opponent while he is still declaring himself?" the blonde woman says lightly. "Poor form, sir knight."

...seriously?

"Ambrose's fault, entirely," Arthur Drake says without hesitation.

"Oh, that's right," the old man mutters. "Blame the wizard."

"I will hear your excuses when you return home," Lucia says firmly. "Oh, and Eric? Incoming at two o'clock."

Altria's uncle curses, turns, and raises his shield in time to intercept a bat that had crawled OUT of the wall. All around the tower, other monsters are performing the same feat, emerging from any shadow large enough to accomodate them.

Gained Shield Training F (Plus) (Plus)

"Best keep this brief, Lucia," Roderick cuts in, as he stabs a Medusa head, and then swings his spear - with the writhing snake-haired thing still impaled on the end - to smash into a skeleton.

Gained Staff Training F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

"Agreed. What's your situation?"

Speaking quickly, Arthur explains that "as we expected," Castle Dracula's Clock Tower has overlaid Big Ben. It's the architectural equivalent of demonic possession, though at the same time, Ambrose has confirmed that the tower is still connected to the rest of the Demon Castle - which means that all the monsters that normally haunt that wretched place and the unfortunate lands formerly known as Wallachia can pass through.

You spare a moment to consider the implications of that statement, particularly in light of the disturbances you know are taking place all across Europe.

"The good news is that we were able to form a perimeter before too many of the damned things got out," Arthur says, as he knocks a flying axe out of the air, and closes on its master. "The others, along with Lady Barthomeloi's supporters, are holding the line as we speak. There's been... some damage to the surrounding area, but it's not nearly as bad as it could have been."

Gained Club Training E

"And the bad news?" Lucia asks.

"Dracula's Curse is spreading beyond the Tower," Arthur answers grimly. "The ground outside was... darkening, changing to a twisted, ruined reflection of itself, with monsters starting to rise from the soil. And as you can no doubt see, every time we kill one of these things" - he punctuates that by pulping another bat - "its replacement merely claws its way out of the darkness. The process was slower outside than it is in here, but it was happening all the same."

And just like that, the lack of serious mana use by the five humans makes a lot of sense.

Yes, if the knights started using their Mana Burst, and the wizard and magus their spells, they would make very rapid progress through this dark fortress - right up until they ran out of gas. The same applies to the defensive line outside - they could go all-out and wreak incredible damage on the Dark Lord's army, but only so long as their reserves lasted. And if Dracula's forces are constantly growing in number, and those numbers respawning...

Any defense will ultimately be unsustainable.

"Ambrose and Lady Barthomeloi don't believe we can break the 'possession' of the tower from our end," Arthur continues.

"They might manage it in Rome," Ambrose cuts in, as he swats a flying head with his staff. The way it caves in under the blow tells you there's a lot more force at work than the skinny old man's body could generate. "But the Vatican has an army of Exorcists and those maniacs from the Burial Agency to throw at whatever part of the Castle popped up around the Eternal City - my money's on the Colosseum, by the way. With all due respect to Her Majesty and the Archbishop, England falls a bit short of that level of holy firepower."

"So you're going to go through the Clock Tower, follow its connection back to the rest of Castle Dracula, and attack it from the inside?" Lucia sums up.

"That is the plan," Arthur confirms.

"It's a terrible plan," Lucia says.

"Lucia-"

"Arthur, attacking the Reaper once was reckless enough - and don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding saying what HAPPENED to him after the cameras cut out, husband mine! He's still hanging around, isn't it?"

Arthur's slow, reluctantly drawl of, "...yyyyes," reminds you abruptly of how Altria answered one of her sister's questions yesterday.

"And you're proposing to scale the structure the Belmont Chronicles REPEATEDLY mention as one of his preferred abodes. And assuming you survive a SECOND encounter with Death, you're proposing to go even DEEPER into Dracula's Castle. Need I remind you just WHOSE personal chambers were traditionally adjacent to the Clock Tower?"

"We're not going after Dracula, Lucia."

"I am," Lorelei Barthomeloi says.

"Hush, girl," Ambrose chides. "Never get between a married couple when they argue."

Arthur Drake raises his voice a little over the commentary. "Our esteemed magical colleagues believe there should be a device allowing the Castle to... split itself up like this. If we can find and destroy it, either the Clock Tower will disappear from London, or it'll be cut off from the rest of the Castle. For that matter, the same thing should happen for any other sections of the Castle that have been sent elsewhere."

"Leaving you all trapped INSIDE Dracula's Castle," Lucia notes sharply.

"Only for as long as it takes Ambrose to work a Spell of Teleportation through the interference this place gives off," Arthur returns confidently.

"Shouldn't be more than ten minutes," the wizard claims.

Lucia chews her lower lip. "A lot can happen in ten minutes."

"It can," Arthur admits. "But it's already been about that long since this madness started, and it's getting worse out there with every second that passes. We can't let this go on, Lucia."

For a long moment, Lucia says nothing.

Then she mutters, "Damn that sense of honor and obligation... I suppose this is what I get for marrying a knight. Mother must be laughing."

"She DID prefer that Italian fellow for you," Arthur agrees. "Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"As you said, Mother DID prefer him."

...what?

"Aaaand this just went somewhere it shouldn't have," Briar says firmly.

Lucia glances at her, then at you and her daughters.

"Ah, yes." She coughs. "Well, then, Arthur. I suppose I had best stop distracting you - on your right!"

"I see it."

SMASH!

And so he does, smashing a dripping red skeleton to pieces.

"Before we end this chat, do you have anything to say to your daughters?"

"Well, if they're watching this...?"

"They are."

"Then Anna had better not try to cast any scrying spells without adult supervision any time soon - and no, dear, Ambrose doesn't count."

Ambrose raises one hand as if to object, then shrugs and nods, accepting the point.

Anna looks a little disappointed.

"Likewise, Altria had best not try to go monster-hunting without adult supervision - same caveats."

Ambrose waves that off, and with the same motion, unleashes a telekinetic blast at the bloody bones that had been reassembling themselves, blowing them clear off the platform and out into the shaft of the tower.

Altria actually looks relieved.

Considering what happened the last time she went hunting monsters with Ambrose - at least that you know of - you can understand why.

"I love you both, and I will be home as soon as possible," Arthur finishes.

"If you are quite done, Lord Drake," Lorelei says, "I would prefer not to have an unknown magus spying on me any longer than absolutely necessary."

"You heard the lady, lad," Ambrose calls. "Best shut it down before she gets tetchy."

...man, if looks could kill.

Then again, she's a magic-user. She could probably manage it.

---

For once, you decide to let yourself be guided by Ambrose's wisdom. You let Lucia know of your decision, and she quickly passes on a final round of well-wishes from herself, the girls, and Lance - and also Mary Kenneth, who returned in the middle of the Scrying-enabled conversation.

You're about to end your spell when Ambrose speaks up.

"Oh, before you go? Lucia, be a dear and go turn on my dimensional beacon, will you? In, say, fifteen minutes or so?"

Lucia frowns. "You didn't leave it on when you left?"

"What, leave the thing unattended with all this space-time warping evil energy flying about, and my lab still being in the shadow of the eclipse? That would have just been INVITING trouble. No, I was planning to make do without it, but that was before you got in touch." Ambrose shrugs. "I don't really NEED the extra assistance to haul our chestnuts out of this particular fire - charming as the Demon Castle is, it's not a Hell dimension unto itself - but the support would make things easier and safer on our end."

"I'll do that then. Fifteen minutes, you said?"

"Yes, that should be time enough for us to finish up our business with this overgrown cuckoo clock." Ambrose fixes your spell's sensor a firm look. "But don't leave my lab unguarded while the beacon is turned on."

"I remember what happened the last time, Ambrose," Lucia says, grinning faintly. "I'll have my sword ready, in case you bring any uninvited guests with you this time."

"Good girl. See you in fifteen, then."

"Until then."

And with that, you end your spell.

Lucia looks around.

Everyone in the room looks back at her.

The lady of house affects a much put-upon sigh. "I suppose there is no chance in my convincing all of you to stay away from Ambrose's workshop, a quarter hour from now?"

Lance and the Drake children all firmly shake their heads.

"I have a husband in there as well, Lucia," Mary says.

You, Briar, and Lu-sensei trade glances.

"Personally," you say, "I kind of want to see this machine of Ambrose's that I've heard so much about."

"And the old master and I need to keep an eye on this one," Briar adds, gesturing your way.

"What the fairy said," Lu-sensei agrees.

Lucia nods. "Very well, then. However, there will be some ground rules..."

Fifteen minutes later, you're standing inside a room in Ambrose's extended workshop you haven't previously visited. The floor is a tiled circle fifty feet across, while the wooden walls rise perhaps ten feet to form the foundation of a great glass dome. Every surface is painted with starfields, and as you look around, you're able to spot the major constellations - more because all of them are clearly labelled than for any true merit on your part.

Despite its dimensions, the room feels a bit small, thanks to the enormous contraption that rises from its center. Ambrose's dimensional beacon takes the form of a great orrery that shows the Sun, all nine planets, more moons than you can conveniently count, and a few objects that aren't on any star charts you've ever come across. There are at least four bodies past Pluto, and several dark shapes much further in the system. The base of the machine is twenty feet across if it's an inch, while the arms radiating from it reach across the room, the outermost extending almost to the walls; they would pose a serious hazard to any foot-traffic if they weren't all about eight feet off the floor. As it is, the odd angles at which a few of them are positioned are inconvenient at worst, and then only if you're a tall person.

The device is silent at the moment, but it and the entire chamber fairly reek of powerful Abjuration, Divination, and Summoning Magic.

Gained Divination B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

"How accurate is this thing?" you wonder aloud.

"It's not to scale or anything," Anna Drake replies. "It would be larger than the entire house if we tried to make it so. But all the objects you can see on it really do exist. We just can't see some of them with ordinary telescopes."

"Hubble hasn't seen some of those yet," Lance notes dryly.

Gained Astronomy F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You, the other children, and Briar have been "asked" to stay near the entrance to the room. Mary and Lu-sensei are standing halfway between you and the orrerry, and Lucia - sword still in hand - is just walking up to the base of the machine. There are levers and switches and buttons scattered all over the thing, with not so much as a warning label anywhere in sight, much less a set of instructions. Despite that, Lucia simply takes hold of one of the larger levers, and pulls its arm down until it's flush with the base.

Something inside the orrery goes "clunk." It's followed by a quickly-building rumble, and then the room comes to life. Generated by both mechanical and mystical means, light shines forth from a thousand points on the machine and the walls around it, while unseen gears turn with constant, muted thunder, causing the machine's scores of arms to turn.

Gained Item Crafting C (Plus)

In the same moment, magical wards spring to life, reinforcing the floor, walls, and glass-domed ceiling a dozen times over. Part of this bewildering array of defensive measures springs up around your group, three tall forcefields that rise from the floor clear to the ceiling, cutting a flat wedge out of the greater circle of the room, and then tilt back towards the wall. They only reach angles of about seventy-five degrees before they're intercepted by a fourth energy-panel, which has extended out from the top of the door, cutting the tops of the three barriers short. The remaining space between the individual fields and the other surfaces is rapidly filled, leaving your five-child and one-fairy band in a secured chamber.

You look up at the force-fields, and then back at part of the wall just next to the door, where a small panel inset with a dozen clear crystal buttons is located.

According to your hosts, it's a secondary control for the orrery, and the other functions in the room. You weren't told exactly which buttons do what, with the sole exception of the two at the bottom.

The button on the right hand side is green, and if pressed, will selectively deactivate or re-activate the barriers around your little viewing chamber, allowing access to or from the larger room.

The button opposite to it is red. Press that, and the orrery will immediately shut down.

Needless to say, you've been told not to mess around with those without permission.

Between the inherent complexity of the individual spells now at work, the sheer number of them, and the fact that much of their underlying design is hidden from view beneath layers of wood, stone, metal, and crystal, you can only make so much sense of the forces at work in the chamber.

But even with all those obstacles, there is no way you could miss the aura of Summoning Magic that is beginning to build up within the room.

---

Following Lucia's laying-down of The Rules By Which You Will All Abide If We Are Going To Do This Thing, you had a few minutes to spare for conversation.

You made use of it.

Curious about the magically-powerful and rather unfriendly-looking young woman traveling with the knights and wizard, you ask for further details.

Lucia passes that question along to Mary, who - as a member in good standing of the Mages' Association - was best-placed to answer it.

And oh, does Mary Drake have Things To Say regarding Lorelei Barthomeloi.

The long and short of it is, you don't want to get on that young woman's radar, or that of her family. They're magical powerhouses who consider themselves to be the nobility of the European community of human magic-users, and they have an INTENSE dislike of all shapes and forms of vampires, which tends to spill over to anyone or anything connected with them.

The Drakes aren't exactly FOND of vampires themselves, but they were willing and able to put aside their distaste and allow Altria to attend Kahlua's birthday party - this despite the fact that Arthur and Issa had been on opposite sides of an incident in Singapore, just a couple of months prior.

A Barthomeloi would not have been able to do that. At best, they would have sent a scathing refusal of the invitation. At worst, there would have been violence.

Lorelei is evidently a paragon of her family - more skilled, more powerful, and more disgusted by vampires - and if SHE had been the one invited to an event at the Shuzens', Mary Drake suspects that there would have been EXPLOSIONS.

Gained Knowledge (Mages' Association) E

Aside from the lady magus, one of the things that particularly caught your attention during the scry was a title that Ambrose dropped.

When you seek clarification regarding this "Burial Agency," Mary Drake is once again the one to explain.

Among the Church, there are those called Executors, who harness the power of their faith - the faith of a billion and more Christians all over to world - as a weapon against entities their doctrine considers to be Enemies of the Faith, Offenders Against God, and just plain Evil. They're exceptionally pious, exceptionally physically-capable, exceptionally deadly, and without exception, completely human.

The Burial Agency is another matter. Although under the jurisdiction of the Church, its members are recruited solely on the basis of their ability to kill demons and other supernatural threats, regardless of their own faith or humanity - and as a result, many of its members and associates are monsters themselves.

And Mary Drake isn't using that term just to refer to non-humans. The Burial Agency does include human operatives, but in almost every case, there's something deeply disturbing about them - and it's not always something supernatural.

You aren't given any examples, however, and Kenneth's mother appears reluctant to say more on the matter.

Gained Christian Theology E

You spend some time digesting the answers you received regarding your prior questions, and so it's until your party is inside Ambrose's workshop that you think to ask Anna Drake why it is that she practices magic, when the rest of her immediate family all use mana-fueled combat techniques.

"Family tradition," she says easily. "Our elders give us all these tests when we're little, simple things dressed up in games like 'catch the ball of mana,' 'spot the illusion,' and 'match the magical cards.' That goes on for a few years, until they have a good idea of whether or not we'll be any good at magic, and if so, what sorts we're more inclined to using. People who show a real knack for self-enhancement magic, or who show no outstanding magical talent at all, are usually the ones that get picked for training as knights early on. The rest of us get to choose."

"And you chose magic," you conclude, as Lucia throws the switch on the magical orrery.

Anna nods. "Most girls do."

You glance at Altria, standing next to you, and then through the force-fields at Lucia.

Anna smiles wryly. "I did say 'most.'"

Eh, fair enough.

Further conversation is put on hold as the magical output of Ambrose's machine reaches a peak, and then holds steady.

No portal appears, and you sense no pre-teleportation surge of dimensional energies.

You wait.

And wait some more.

"Shouldn't something be happening?" Lance finally asks.

Several things happen very quickly.

Magic surges.

Altria and Anna turn to regard Lance with expressions of dismay.

There is a crackling sound as a hole is torn in the fabric of space-time, leaving a large, flame-rimmed dark hole hovering near the base of the orrery, just beneath the planes of its many whirling arms.

Lucia hefts her sword, Mary gathers her power, and Lu-sensei makes a final adjustment to his stance, as the emptiness within the portal is swiftly filled by a chamber of ancient stoneworks, dimly lit by candles, and radiating a spiritual darkness that exceeds anything in your experience. Sunnydale's perpetual aura of menace and corruption is a fleeting shadow compared to the sheer malice you're sensing on the other side of that gateway.

Kenneth reaches out and smacks Lance across the back of the head, saying, "Never say that around magic, dummy!"

And then, with inhuman howls of wrath and challenge, monstrous forms begin leaping through the portal.

Among the leaders is a familiar type of demon, manlike in shape and stature save for the head and hooves of a goat, and wielding a vicious axe-headed pike. It has just enough time to hit the floor on THIS side of the portal before Lucia is there, deflecting a thrust from its weapon with her sword before cleaving the intruder's horned head from its shoulders on the backswing.

Alongside the goat-demon strides a lanky, pallid form whose tattered clothes and decaying flesh suggest a zombie, but whose aura of dark magic is far too strong to belong to such a lowly example of the undead. And indeed, the corpse reacts to Lucia's disposal of its companion with a speed no pathetic shambling corpse could ever possess, lashing out with oversized claws large enough to disembowel a man at a stroke.

Lucia blocks, blade angled to catch both striking talons, but makes no move to follow through.

Mainly because she saw Lu-sensei come up beside the slavering ghoul, and deliver a single ki-enhanced palm thrust to the side of its deformed skull.

The undead monster's entire skull shatters under the blow, while also being torn free of its neck.

There is a moment, almost humorous, as the two decapitated monsters stand there, the goat motionless, the undead one grasping in confusion at the empty space where its head used to be.

Lucia and Lu-sensei have already moved on to "greeting" more new arrivals - a fully-armored skeleton wielding a two-handed blade of its own, and a massively built cyclops, respectively.

Mary, meanwhile, stands with her left hand held palm-first towards the portal, mana shining brightly around a bracelet or bangle that was - and still is, at least to plain sight - hidden by the long, wide sleeve of her dress. As magical energy enters the device, it projects a spell array before its owner's outstretched hand. The array in turn begins generating spheres of force, which fire off like small missiles.

That is, if missiles were ever capable of automatic fire.

One after another in an endless cycle, the force-blasts leap from the array, seeking and striking monsters without fail. One blows clean through the chest of the still-standing undead monster, before exploding against some other horror behind it; Mary directs a second shot against her initial target, blowing off its left arm at the shoulder, and then - when the body continues to move - sends three more blasts at the thing, dismembering it. After that, she turns her attention to managing the oversized bats that are starting to flit through the portal, using the small space above and around their ground-bound cohorts.

All of this has taken less than six seconds, and the fight's barely gotten started.

You're not sure where to look.

---

There is some temptation to turn your ever-acquisitive gaze towards Mary Drake's use of whatever enchanted item she has wrapped about her wrist, or towards Lucia's almost dance-like performance with her partner, the oversized sword.

Despite that, your attention is inexorably drawn to Lu-sensei.

You've seen your master fight seriously before: once against the Hawaiian Sorcerer; again during the outbreak of ninja-induced mayhem at the World Martial Arts Tournament; and most recently, during your monster-hunting outing at Kahlua's birthday party. However, on all three of those occasions, you were either on the edge of the violence or right in the middle of it, and consequently, had other things on your mind than just watching your master practice your mutual art.

That's not to say you didn't learn anything in the process. You just didn't learn as much as you might have.

Lu-sensei's matches against other masters during the last, relocated phase of the Tournament were another matter. At the time, your skills were still relatively undeveloped, and following the movements of master-class martial artists was a difficult challenge at the best of times - let alone when you got careless and knocked yourself out trying to pierce their overwhelming fighting spirit.

Your abilities have grown since then. Significantly so.

And unlike when he was fighting fellow human masters, here, Lu-sensei is pulling no punches.

Quite the contrary: every strike from his ki-charged limbs distorts flesh and cracks bone.

It's clear at a glance that your teacher is using Ki Enhancement, but that alone wouldn't explain the sheer destructive effect of his blows - it's not just raw striking power he's using there, or even physical force skillfully applied to vulnerable points. No, Lu-sensei's hands and feet are aglow with ki, tiny auras so intense that some of the energy escapes even your master's superb control in the form of pale, unearthly blue-white flame. The excess energy trails after his striking limbs, flashing this way and that as the old man moves, and lingers at the site of blows.

This is something Lu-sensei hadn't shown you yet.

Gained Ki Strike F

Nor is that the only thing you learn by watching him work.

You knew from the outset that Lu-sensei wasn't fighting at his absolute best here - the absence of Body Flickers told you that much. Having played that particular card yourself on many occasions, you can certainly understand why your master would choose to keep it in reserve. As powerful an asset as it is, the Body Flicker is a rather ki-intensive technique, and has only a short window of effectiveness besides; if Lu-sensei is capable of outpacing his enemies without calling on that skill, it makes perfect sense for him to do so.

After all, the portal's only been open for a few seconds, and none of you gathered in the orrery chamber can say for certain how long it will REMAIN open. The defenders are better served by using just enough energy to hold the line, and keep on holding it for the duration, than they are by going all-out and risking exhaustion before the gate is shut.

Because Lu-sensei is keeping to the minimum level of exertion necessary to handle the situation, you're better-able to follow his movements. You can SEE how your master is making allowances for the extremely varied and completely inhuman aspect of his enemies, the largely-unfamiliar combat styles of his two allies, and the fact that his OWN style is relatively unknown to the ladies.

Granted, you can't see it all in time to keep up with your teacher, let alone predict what he's going to do next, but in hindsight, things are remarkably clear.

Gained Battle Awareness C
Gained Hand-to-Hand (Five Elements Style) C
Gained Ki Armor D (Plus)
Gained Ki Concealment B
Gained Ki Enhancement B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Sight B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Tactics C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Weapon Defense D (Plus) (Plus)

Monsters, and pieces thereof, are scattered across the floor around the portal, where they aren't blown back through it and into the faces of their incoming peers. A cloud of eldritch smoke begins to form as those broken bodies dissolve in death.

Are these monsters summoned? Magical creations? Or are their existences just so unnatural that the world rejects them as soon as it's able?

Gained Corruption Sense C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You'll go with Completely Unnatural for 300, Alex.

Quite suddenly, there is an explosion on the far side of the portal. Too many monsters are - or rather, WERE - in the way for you to see who or what caused it, but as the blast clears, you're able to see three knightly figures and one staff-wielding old man in robes approaching the portal at a run.

Unlike the last time you saw them, the gentlemen are visibly radiating mana, and moving at quite a clip. Even Ambrose is dashing along at speeds that would leave professional sprinters jealous - courtesy of some variation on the Spell of Haste - competing with Eric Drake for the lead position in this emergency egress.

Under other circumstances, the way Ambrose is trying to keep his hiked-up robes and long beard from getting tangled in his frantically-pumping skinny old legs, while simultaneously juggling his staff and preventing his hat from being blown off his head by the wind of his passage, would be comedy gold.

With the monstrous shadows you can see looming up behind the four-man band, and the overwhelming sense of evil that is still streaming from the portal, it's not funny at all - it's an essential survival skill, demonstrated at a level of proficiency that matches anything Lu-sensei just showed you.

That's a wizard for you.

"GAAAANGWAAAAYYYY!" Ambrose yells, the word Doppler-shifting thanks to the temporal magic at work, but still perfectly intelligible.

In response to this, Lucia brings the pommel of her weapon down in a hammer-blow on the head of a blood-dripping skeleton, and steps to the left side of the portal.

Across from her, Lu-sensei grabs the last monster still on its feet - a very battered and sorry-looking ogre - sets his feet, and turns, flipping the beast up, over, and then down onto the floor with stunning force, clear of the portal.

Gained Grappling D

Mary pauses her barrage of magical missiles, the spell-array hanging before her hand glowing brightly at eight points, ready and waiting to resume fire.

By the head of a staff, Ambrose is the first to emerge, and he keeps on going, only starting to slow - albeit at very high speed, and that is an even stranger thing to SEE than it is to say - after he's in his workshop. Eric Drake, meanwhile, had begun braking while still in the Demon Castle, and once he's through the portal, he quickly turns to take up a guard position right in front of the thing.

"Come on, lads!" he yells. "Last one home buys the first round at Kelly's!"

The added encouragement is likely unnecessary, as Arthur Drake and Roderick Pritchard are both already making for the portal with everything they have, auras shining like twin suns.

Gained Mana Burst E (Plus) (Plus)

The monsters behind them are trying to keep up, but the distance is too great.

Along the short stretch of hall between the two knights and their escape, new monsters are pulling themselves from the stone and shadows of the Castle, but swords, gauntlets, and boots lash out, blazing with magical energy, destroying all those close enought to pose any kind of threat.

Gained Mana Blade F (Plus) (Plus)

Roderick - who seems to have lost his spear somewhere - even goes so far as to step on one half-emerged monster, crushing it underfoot. You're not sure if that was deliberate, or if he just didn't see the thing.

It looks like the knights are home free.

And then you see it.

Down the corridor, past the charging line of brutes whose howls ring with rage at the knowledge that their prey is about to escape, you see a woman with long brown hair, clad in a white-sleeved red robe, hovering in mid-air as she gathers magical energy to herself. Though she appears completely human, somehow you can tell that she is a threat, and that the spell she is casting will do nothing good for Altria and Lance's fathers.

You have enough time to take action against this... witch?... before she unleashes her magic.

But how?

---

Some of your companions jump as you suddenly raise your voice.

"Ambrose!" you call through the forcefield. "Mage in the back!"

Whatever barrier it might pose to magical effects, the protective energy-screen does nothing to impede sound, particularly at volume, and Ambrose ended up a lot closer to it - and you - once he'd shed his magically-augmented momentum. There's no question that he hears you.

Also, the old man's Spell of Haste is still up and running, so when he turns around to see what it is you're talking about, he does so VERY quickly.

Up comes his staff.

Mana gathers.

On the other side of the portal, the robed witch finishes her spell, throwing her hands forward with a triumphant cry and releasing a spread of glowing projectiles that race down the stone corridor, past her monstrous allies, and streak unerringly towards the backs of the two fleeing knights.

Ambrose makes a jabbing motion with his staff.

Mana is released, and a glowing shield appears between Arthur, Roderick, and the incoming attack.

The first two bolts of the witch's spellfire barrage expend their fury against the wizard's defense in a staccato series of explosions, to no real effect, but for whatever reason, Ambrose's shield doesn't fill the entire corridor, and the hostile caster still sees an opportunity. Her starlike projectiles begin to veer off-course, angling for the gaps between the shield and the stone walls.

Most of the remaining blasts are too close and moving too fast, smashing into the glowing obstacle even as they shift to evade it, and one overcompensates, bypassing the shield only to blow a hole in the wall instead.

But one bolt does get through, before twisting about, seeking to reacquire one of its original targets.

Unfortunately, Roderick Pritchard makes for a very BIG target.

And so, when the largest of the knights emerges from the portal a moment later - just behind and to the left of Arthur Drake - he's not properly on his feet, but riding a shockwave and a plume of mystical flame.

Eric Drake curses and hastily backpedals, trying not to throw himself into his brother as he avoids their toppling ally.

Roderick hits the floor with a loud crash-

"DAD!" Lance calls out, suddenly pressing up against the forcefield.

-and tumbles away from the gate, not only on the momentum of his run-turned-takeoff, but by dint of personal effort.

"He's alright, Lance!" Kenneth says. "Look!"

And indeed, Mr. Pritchard is picking himself up, though he does so with a growling groan of effort, and smoke trailing thickly from the armor along his upper back and shoulders.

"Ambrose!" Arthur calls, even as he turns to face the gate, sword coming up into a ready position.

"Onit!Lucia!" Ambrose calls back, gathering his power anew, even as he holds his barrier - and the monsters now hammering against it - with his staff-bearing right hand.

Altria's mother steps away from her spot flanking the left side of the portal and steps around behind it, heading for the orrery. A moment later, you hear that deep, mechanical CLUNK again, and feel the magical auras filling the chamber shift.

"Done!" Lucia calls.

And sure enough, the arms of the orrery are beginning to slow in their movements.

The portal, however, remains open. An unsettling black vapor that wasn't there when the hole in space first appeared now crawls along its edges, curling around in a manner almost like grasping fingers. You can almost TASTE the evil at work, and reflexively harden your aura against it.

Gained Corruption Resistance D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

"Noneofthat,now," Ambrose mutters at high speed.

His left hand comes up, and then, at the moment the wizard's power peaks, it comes down in a sharp, slashing motion.

"BEGONE!"

And with a crack, the portal snaps shut, leaving tattered shreds of vaporous darkness hanging in the air.

The wizard lowers his hand and his staff, looks around, and - with what sounds like a normal tone of voice, but must be slow deliberacy on his side of the still-active Spell of Haste - says, "Everyone still alive, sound off."

"Here," Arthur says promptly.

"Here," Eric follows.

"Here," Roderick says from where he's kneeling on the floor, apparently having given up on standing for the moment. "Also, damn, that stings."

"And wizard makes four," Ambrose concludes, dismissing his spell. "I also don't see or sense any unexpected stowaways... well, not excluding that," he adds, shooting a distasteful look at the black murk that's now settling onto the formerly pristine floor of the chamber. It's far from the only such contamination; the bodies of the monsters that Lucia, Mary Drake, and Lu-sensei killed have all been reduced into a similar state. "Damn it, I'm going to have to clean that up, aren't I? Bloody inconsiderate Dark Lords and their miasmas..."

Muttering to himself, Ambrose casts another spell, summoning rays of light from nowhere in particular, which begin sweeping over the darkened portions of the floor. You sense the purifying energy of Light Magic - not especially powerful, but very, very focused.

"Welcome home, my love," Lucia says lightly, as Ambrose goes to work.

"Good to be back, my lady," Arthur replies. His helmed head turns towards his daughters, and nods. "Anna, Altria. Lads."

"Father," the girls answer.

"Sir," Kenneth says.

Lance doesn't answer, his attention on his father.

Seeing that, Arthur turns to his ally. "Alright there, Roderick?"

"Armor took the brunt of it," the big man sighs. "I think I managed to deflect the remainder before it did any real harm."

"Speaking of magic," Anna says then, "what became of Lady Barthomeloi?"

"Oh, Lorelei?" Ambrose looks up from where he was scowling at having to scrub his floor. "We found the device we were looking for. She ought to be blowing it to pieces right about now. Then I expect the damn fool girl will go and hunt down Dracula, like she wanted to." The wizard shakes his head. "I did try to talk her out of it, pointed out that Dracula has never been defeated by a magic-user working alone, but she was... determined."

"I would have said stark staring mad, myself," Eric Drake says sourly.

"Eric," his brother chides.

"Am I wrong?"

"No," Ambrose admits, "you're not. Well, there's still hope that she'll just get herself lost in the Castle long enough for help to arrive."

"And what are the odds of that happening?" Roderick asks.

"Given the way the Castle interferes with Divination Magic, and that the Barthomelois in general and Lorelei herself aren't known for any special prowess in the field?" Ambrose considers it, and then shrugs. "Better than average." Then he looks back at the floor, which is - if not entirely clean - at least purged of the worst of the contamination. "Right, that's the floor taken care of. Now for us. Everyone, please lower your magic resistance and remain very still."

And the beams of light shift about in mid-air and begin moving towards the adults.

The three knights sigh, but make no move to avoid the beams. Lu-sensei eyes the nearest magical manifestation with mild suspicion, and then glances your way, a question written on his face.

---

You glance at the magic Ambrose is even now running over Arthur Drake and Roderick Pritchard, golden beams of light sweeping back and forth like the bristles of a brush, scrubbing out motes and tendrils of smokey darkness that are quickly seared away to nothing by the purifying energy.

Turning back to your master, you nod once, wordlessly, letting Lu-sensei know that Ambrose's purification is capable of dealing with the level of external exposure he's sustained, and also that there are no hidden surprises worked into the spell.

It would seem that even the wizard's sense of humor balks at the notion of playing practical jokes involving such concentrated evil.

Cleansing the orrery chamber and those within it of the taint of the Demon Castle takes only a few minutes. While Ambrose is attending to that - and arguing with the ladies - the Drake brothers assist Roderick Pritchard in getting out of his armor, so that they can check him for injuries.

Gained Armor Proficiency F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

It turns out to be good news, with nothing worse than bruises and the magical equivalent of a sunburn. Minor as it is, the "damage" is admittedly rather widespread, and would doubtlessly have been a lot worse if Roderick's armor and cultivated magic resistance hadn't taken the brunt of the attack - but they did, and so it's nothing to worry about, let alone anything that needs magical healing.

Which isn't to say that the returnees don't need some medical attention.

It wasn't readily apparent before, what with the distance between you and all the distractions that were present, but now that the three knights are closer, it's evident that their armor absorbed a fair amount of damage during their excursion within Dracula's domain. Scratches of varying length are abundant on the steel plates, with minor dents only slightly less so. The armor is also darkly stained in places, and while much of that black murk burns away under Ambrose's cleansing magic - residue from this or that fallen monster - some remains, revealing patterns left by previous impacts of unfriendly fire.

The armor did its job well; between them, the three knights have less than a dozen injuries that are actually bleeding, none of which are large enough, deep enough, or placed so as to actually be dangerous. That said, as the rush of combat leaves their systems, the warriors start to move in a manner that says louder than words they're in for some spectacular bruising, and no small amount of complaining from strained muscles.

Ambrose seems to have come through without a scratch.

Once the wizard has finished erasing the corruption of the Dark Lord's Castle and declared the room safe, Anna Drake turns around and hits the green crystal on the control panel, deactivating the barriers around the little door-side viewing area where you and the other young people were standing. You're quickly left behind as the other kids hurry towards their returned fathers for a round of welcome-home hugs and worried fussing.

You were tempted to offer your assistance healing the knights' injuries, but Mary Drake seems to have that well in hand, using a mixture of Augmentation and Transformation Magic that doesn't reverse, erase, or otherwise conceptually-alter the damage involved, instead cleaning out the wounds and then holding them shut, while temporarily accelerating the body's natural healing.

As soon as his sister-in-law has looked him over and he's (at least temporarily) satisfied his wife and daughters that he is, indeed, going to be fine, Arthur Drake extends a gauntleted hand towards Ambrose, and asks for a phone.

The wizard responds by reaching into one of the pouches hanging from his belt, pulling out one of those older, bulky handset models, which he passes over.

You have to take a moment to blink at the image of a stereotypically-attired wizard and a knight in full plate armor using a cell phone.

It's just... weird.

Arthur calls up someone by the name of David, spends a minute exchanging passwords and otherwise establishing that he is who he claims to be, and finally asks about the status of the Clock Tower.

He listens for a long moment, face expressionless.

You see a short, fierce grin of triumph.

Arthur spends a few minutes after that discussing "the situation" and "our next move" with his associate. From what you can make out, while the "possession" of Big Ben has been successfully reversed, the "curse" that was spreading from it has not been fully lifted, only prevented from expanding farther. As it stands, an area half the size of a city block is still under Dracula's power, with monsters continuing to rise from the defiled earth - though with the Clock Tower gone and the direct connection to the Demon Castle broken, the rate of the creatures' spawning has been greatly slowed. Arthur and his associate don't expect the curse to break until Dracula is put down and the eclipse ended, and as a result, the knights and their magic-using allies of the moment are still holding the perimeter they'd established about the area.

Lord Drake is still talking on the phone when you sense a surge of magic, not from anywhere inside the orrery chamber, but from the hall outside. Judging by the way Briar, Ambrose, Mary Drake, and Anna Drake all turn to look in that direction, they felt it too.

"Sister?" Altria asks.

"Outer wards just went up," Ambrose answers in the older girl's place. "Excuse me while I check that out."

And he bustles out of the room.

The adults trade speaking glances, but it's Roderick who puts their concerns to words.

"Do you suppose they followed us?"

"Hopefully not," Eric Drake replies, in a tone that says he doesn't really believe his own words. "But on the off-chance that they did... Ken, Lance, help me get his armor back on."

The other boys quickly move to assist.

Lucia, meanwhile, walks past you into the hall, opens a hidden panel right next to the door, and presses something.

You hear the buzz of an intercom, and then a man's voice asks, "Yes?"

"Report, Stephens," Lucia says without preamble.

"Uninvited guests at the outer wall, ma'am," the man replies. "Looks like a mix of skeletons, zombies, and bats, for the most part. One group focused on the front gate, another at the rear."

"Can you see where they're coming from?"

"Sorry, ma'am. Points of origin are far enough back and behind enough clutter that the cameras can't see them. The wizard's work on the walls and gate is holding them off nicely, though, giving the lads plenty of time to pick their shots. No immediate danger of a breach."

...really?

Ambrose and the knights just stormed the Demon Castle itself, surviving at least one encounter with the Reaper along the way, to say nothing of that band of brutes that failed to seize the portal or prevent the four men from escaping through it. And the force dispatched in pursuit of them is made up of the lowliest forms of undead, and some bats?

It just seems a bit underwhelming, is all you're saying.

---

After taking a moment to consider the situation report, you turn your head towards everyone still in the orrery chamber.

"Am I the only one who thinks that this 'attack' seems like a distraction of some sort?" you ask.

"No," half the people in the room answer.

"Nope," Kenneth says.

"Definitely not," Roderick Pritchard agrees.

You nod. "Just checking."

It's good to know that everyone is on the same page.

You know perfectly well that skeletons and zombies aren't harmless. Especially not skeletons. They're tireless, fearless, immune to pain, easy to produce in large numbers, and yet still fairly tough for their size. More than that, they can be - and often are - created from human remains, which makes them frightening in a way even the mightiest monsters and demons aren't.

Corpse-vampires get in on that as well.

That said, if YOU were a Dark Lord - no comments from the past-life gallery - a mindless mob of reanimated corpses wouldn't be the first minions you'd choose to pursue a small group of fast-moving, hard-hitting heroic types that had just blown through a portion of your domain and returned to a stronghold of their own.

At least, you wouldn't choose them as your main assault force.

But as a diversion? A distraction from your real strike, or a feint to cover it?

They wouldn't be a bad choice.

Although you're tempted to use your magic to start looking for Dracula's true attack on the Drake Estate, you hold back for the moment - mostly because you're having some trouble thinking of a spell that could identify the most powerful local threat, without causing issues for you.

The Spell to Detect Evil is the traditional standby for that sort of thing, but leaving aside how heavily you'd have to modify the magic to suit your needs and how expensive it would be as a result, the idea of opening up your mind to all the evil power that's flying around because of Dracula's resurrection strikes you as... unwise.

Most of your other Spells of Divination have prerequisites that, while normally minor inconveniences, take them out of consideration. You don't see the adults letting you go outside until the current emergency has passed, so all those spells that can be blocked just by putting enough solid objects between the caster and their target are out. Spells that rely on a degree of familiarity with your target can also be eliminated from consideration, because you don't really HAVE that connection with any of Dracula's minions. The creatures you saw through your scrying of the Clock Tower and then through the open portal are, on the whole, too insignificant or too dead for that kind of thing to work.

That witch or sorceress who took a shot at Mr. Drake and Mr. Pritchard is an exception. She left enough of an impression - not to mention her magical signature, all but burnt into Roderick's armor - that you might be able to target her with a Greater Spell of Scrying, but that assumes that she's even part of this attack.

The only other being under Dracula's command that you could attempt to scry at this point is Death, and THAT just has Bad Idea written all over it.

Either way, performing a Greater Scrying in your current state would leave you unable to cast any more spells for the rest of the day. You'd really rather not take that drastic of a step just yet, especially not when Ambrose is pretty much guaranteed to take a gander at the situation unfolding outside.

And so you do that most difficult of things.

You wait.

While you've been considering and then deciding against the use of Divination Magic, Arthur Drake has made a quick end to his phonecall, and joined his wife in speaking to the man on the other end of the intercom. From the subsequent conversation, you glean the following details about the Drakes' security arrangements.

There are eight men stationed at the front gate. Half of those are currently shooting through the bars and whatever magic is currently protecting them into the swarming undead and bats, while a couple more have set up on the roof of the gatehouse with a heavier weapon, though they've yet to make use of it - you catch something about "unworthy targets." The remaining members of the team are in the garage, getting two vehicles warmed up for something.

The rear gate sounds like a considerably smaller and less grand affair than its counterpart, as no mention is made of rooftop snipers, just three men with guns and a fourth who's readying a car.

Three dozen additional security personnel are currently present in and around the main house, keeping watch and awaiting further orders.

Not counting the members of the family or any of the servants who are more than they appear, it would seem that the Drakes have sixty well-armed men at their disposal.

...is this normal, or is it something they arranged for today?

In any event, once he's caught up on the details, Arthur tells Stephens that one section will be reinforcing the rear gate with Eric, another will be coming to the front gate with him, and the rest will be remaining on standby with Roderick.

"And tell Kiernan to get Maddoc saddled and girded," Arthur adds.

"What?" half a dozen voices exclaim at once.

"...sir?" Stephens asks carefully. "I don't think I heard that."

"You heard me just fine, Stephens. There is an army at my gates, and I intend to ride out and meet it head-on."

For a moment, everyone in the room - and at least one man elsewhere - is left staring at Arthur Drake in open astonishment.

"The hell you are!" Eric Drake bursts out.

"My house, brother. My rules."

"But I didn't bring my horse!"

...

...really?

Just... really?

---

A part of you honestly can't believe that you're not only considering encouraging the obvious madness of these men, but calling their attention upon yourself in the process. As for the rest...

Wordlessly, you raise your hand and say, "Excuse me, Sir Eric?"

Heads and helms turn to you.

Lowering your arm, you continue, "I could... probably summon your horse, sir. If I had its name."

The ensuing silence is broken only by the sound of Lu-sensei's face and hand renewing their acquaintance.

Then, speaking as one, Arthur and Eric declare, "To the stables!"

Your entire group hastily departs the orrery chamber.

"Am I truly the only person who sees the issue, here?" you hear your master murmur to no one in particular, as he trails in the wake of the excited and eager crowd.

"You mean deliberately leaving a defended location to venture into the teeth of an obvious trap?" Lucia asks. "On horseback, no less, when we have perfectly good motorized vehicles?"

"Yes, that."

"You are not alone in your concerns," your hostess admits. "As to the former, I can only say that, under his childish enthusiasm for getting to live out a boyhood dream, my husband IS working on a plan. At least, he had better be..."

Lu-sensei does not appear reassured by this.

Lucia shakes her head, and continues. "But as for the latter issue" - and here, she smiles - "well, you'll see."

This somewhat enigmatic remark also fails to reassure your master, though at the same time, it seems to intrigue him enough to forestall further arguments.

The outbuilding where the Drakes keep their horses is located behind the main house, just far enough away that the animals won't disturb the residents of the manor. Normally, you'd have serious misgivings about leaving the physical and magical protection of the central building, but as it turns out, your hosts planned ahead for just such an occasion. Rather than heading outside, you go underground, through a passage that is easily a hundred feet long, and wide enough down its entire length for two grown men in armor to walk side-by-side with room to spare - as the Drake brothers demonstrate.

As it happens, the concrete-lined, electrically-illuminated tunnel doesn't exist solely to provide secure access to the stables. It's actually part of a small underground complex that you are told began with a bomb shelter built by Arthur and Eric's father, and which has been refitted and expanded upon to serve a variety of different functions. It now houses the central security office, a barracks, the armory, a target range, various storage rooms, and even a small medical center.

Gained Knowledge (Architecture) D
Gained Logistics F (Plus) (Plus)

Passing all of these rooms and the people within them by, you reach the end of the tunnel and proceed up the staircase into a small concrete-walled room that stands adjacent to the stable proper, which is of a much more traditional stone-and-wood construction. As you enter and take it in, you see a dozen different stalls, only half of which are currently occupied.

Four of the horses are obvious adults. The fifth is a yearling, and the last is a foal, present more as a collection of sounds coming from the double stall it shares with its mother. One of the adults - a tall, powerful chestnut stallion - is in the middle of being fitted, not merely with a saddle, but a set of steel barding, not unlike what the steeds of the Knights of Hyrule wore at various points in the kingdom's history.

That armor whispers of enchantments, but quite aside from that, the stallion's aura - and the auras of the other animals, you note - speak of considerable internal mana reserves, as well as greater spiritual strength and mental capacity than you'd expect from an ordinary animal.

There is an interesting link between that horse and Arthur Drake. In some ways, it feels like the newly-forged bond you and Briar now share, but in others, it's... you hesitate to say lesser, but it's definitely different.

This isn't just Arthur's favorite horse, is it?

Lu-sensei regards the animal for a moment, and then turns to you. "Magic horse?"

"Magic horse," you agree, before looking at Eric Drake. "Is yours the same, sir?"

"Cavall," Eric says firmly, "and yes, the two of them are rather alike. They had the same sire, in fact."

Oh, that's good. You were fairly confident in your ability to summon this horse before, but the fact that it's inherently magical, bonded with its rider, AND shares blood with Arthur's steed will make things considerably easier.

Gathering your mana - and resisting the mild urge to wince at the ache in your system as the power flows through you - you begin working the spell. Because of the advantages you're able to call upon in this situation, the summoning ends up taking form as a third-tier spell - fourth or even fifth wouldn't have been unlikely.

"Come forth, Cavall," you say simply.

There is a flash of light, and another great brown stallion is standing... in the stall to the right of the one you were facing.

In the stall DIRECTLY front of you, there is a burst of shadow, which prompts several cries of surprise and alarm - and a groan from Briar - before it fades to reveal a rather smaller and younger horse, with a coat of midnight black, a mane and tail of fiery red, and eyes like bright rubies.

The latter regard you curiously, and with just a touch of suspicion.

"I didn't call you," you protest, as much to the people behind you as the extraplanar animal in front of you.

Ganondorf's reincarnated mount whickers, as if saying that was obvious, and then rolls its eye toward Cavall - who you note has appeared in full tack, armored up and ready to ride - before turning back to you and contriving to look betrayed.

"Hey, I didn't call him to ride him! I'm just doing someone a favor."

You are given a look of hope from great, watery colt eyes.

"Alex," Altria asks from behind you, "how do you know this horse?"

---

"He's sort of mine," you admit.

Or maybe you are sort of his, you add in the silence of your own mind. There's no active magical bond between you and the horse, like there is between you and Briar, or between the Drake brothers and their own mounts, but Ganondorf and his horse were connected across lifetimes.

That kind of association leaves a mark that has nothing to do with any magically-forged tie between spirits.

The horse's ears flick up and forward, visibly pleased by your answer.

"What's his name?" Altria asks.

"How did you two meet?" her sister adds.

"YOU have a horse?" Kenneth mutters in confusion.

"Children," Lucia calmly cuts in. "Could this wait for a better time?"

The cousins stop and trade sheepish glances.

"...sorry, Mother," Altria apologizes for the three of them.

While all this has been going on, Arthur Drake has been assisting the stablehand - a brunette in her late twenties - with getting Maddoc ready for the coming battle. They've just finished pulling caparisons over the big horse's body, and an intricate emblem of a red dragon wrapped about a cruciform sword, point-down, is now proudly displayed across Maddoc's flanks.

The Drake coat of arms, perhaps?

Quite aside from declaring the identity of the horse and his rider, the cloth coverings add another layer of protection. Ordinary fabric would at least serve to obscure any gaps in the armor beneath, and you have the distinct impression that whatever material was used to make this covering isn't "ordinary," as it carries its own measure of magic. Most of it looks like convenience-level stuff to your Mage Sight - reduction in weight, temperature control, stain resistance, that sort of thing - but there's definitely some added protective spells worked in.

When you mentally tally up the various defensive effects you've seen, and combine them with the simple physical resilience of steel plate, armor-weave, and the animal himself, you're looking at a pretty hard target.

Eric's horse is decked out to a similar standard... which is decidedly odd, because while the basic Spell to Summon a Mount includes basic riding gear, it doesn't provide the steed with armor. Certainly nothing so fancy as what Maddoc and Cavall are wearing.

None of your allies seem surprised that Cavall appeared wearing full armor. They COULD be attributing that to you, but then again, there ARE spells that let humanoid warriors summon and dismiss their armor and weapons at need. Converting one of those for a horse's use wouldn't be too difficult - it would mostly be a matter of building in a trigger the animal could be trained to use. And these are pretty extraordinary horses...

You're still puzzling over the question of where Cavall's tricked-out magic armor came from when a voice comes out of thin air.

"Oh, for goodness's sake," Ambrose grouses. "Summoned horses, now? Stop enabling their madness, boy; that's my job!"

From the looks of surprise, amusement, and annoyance all around, everyone heard that.

"What did you find, Ambrose?" Arthur Drake asks without missing a beat.

"Two portals, about a quarter-mile back from the wall," the wizard's magically-conveyed voice replies in a business-like tone. "They've been disgorging a fairly constant stream of corpses and bats to reinforce the ones already knocking at the gates, but some more concerning entities have been coming through as well, and are forming up."

"How concerning?" Arthur asks, as he and his brother saddle up with the ease of long experience.

"Thus far, around two dozen of those possessed armors and a quarter that many gargoyles, at each portal. Half the knights are carrying long spears, a few more have maces or hammers-"

You find yourself nodding.

"-and there's a couple in each group carting around what LOOK like huge black powder bombs."

What.

"I don't suppose you could take advantage of that by dropping a fireball or two on them?" Eric Drake suggests in a hopeful tone.

"I considered it, but then I spotted the stone golems moving on the other side of those portals."

"How big?" Roderick asks.

"Big enough that I'm getting ready to seal the rear portal before the ones there can get through," Ambrose answers. "It'll take me long enough that the ones out front will get through, but Arthur's mace can deal with one of those, and that machine gun the guards have set up should at least be able to scratch another. If that fails, or more show up while you're busy, I might suggest that you have one of your drivers get a car up to ramming speed."

Roderick turns to Arthur. "Didn't you mention that your security chief liked to have a grenade launcher tucked away for emergencies?"

"Lucia, dear," Arthur says.

"On it!" the lady of the house says, as she ducks back into the stairwell.

"Right, then. Roderick, Mary, Master Lu, if you would kindly see the children back to the main house..."

---

"Before we go, sir," you interrupt Mister Drake, "would you like me to enchant your weapons?"

The knights look at you, blinking beneath their helms.

"They're fairly well enchanted already, lad," Eric points out.

You nod, having noticed that. "But from what Ambrose said, most of them still won't work very well against something like a golem - I'm guessing because of its sheer size, material toughness, and lack of any soft parts?"

"More or less, yes," Arthur admits. "I've got this" - he slaps the mace currently hanging from his belt, on the opposite hip from his sword - "for opponents like that, but weapons of this nature are a bit hard to come by. Ambrose does what he can, but there are limits."

Again, you nod, quite familiar with the limits of which Altria's father is speaking. You've had all sorts of ideas for useful magic items that you are technically capable of producing, but which remain pipe-dreams due to a lack of time and material resources.

Ambrose has far more of the latter, but time would remain a limiting factor. More so, if he was trying to outfit a group.

No matter how powerful he is, one wizard can only do so much.

"I know a spell that would give your weapons a lot more bite against golems, and other things with that kind of damage resistance," you say.

"All our weapons?" Roderick Pritchard asks intently, and with a subtle emphasis on the first word.

"Around ten per casting," you admit. "Though I don't think I'd be able to cast it more than once in the time we have, and the duration is a bit limited - make it ten minutes or so."

The knights exchange speaking glances, and then Arthur turns to Lu-sensei.

"Master Lu," he says, "would you object if we borrowed the services of your student for a few minutes?"

"Not as long as I am permitted to accompany him," your teacher replies, "and we don't stray far from the house."

Altria's father nods.

After a quick check to see if it's okay for your horse to stay in the stables - it is, and HE certainly seems to like the idea - you hurry back through the tunnel to the main house, following Altria as she guides you on the quickest route through her home and out to the front yard.

When you arrive, you find that Arthur, Eric, and their horses beat you here. Standing at ease before them is a group of kitted-out guards, arranged in two rows of eight. Most are carrying rifles, but you see one man toting a rather larger weapon. Parked next to them are a pair of unmarked black vans with dark-tinted windows, which appear to run a little lower to the ground than similar vehicles you've seen elsewhere.

Without preamble, Arthur introduces you to his troops and explains that you're going to be casting a spell to give some of their gear a little more kick against the enemy's walking siege weapons.

Lord Drake already has his mace for this kind of work, but you cast the Spell of the Heart of the Metal on it anyway - maybe the benefits of your spell will stack with the weapon's pre-existing magic, and maybe it won't, but you lose nothing by making use of it. After that, you enhance Eric's sword, a box of four grenades, and finally, several rounds of ammunition for a high-powered rifle.

As a mix of Earth Elementalism and Transformation Magic, Heart of the Metal physically alters its targets. This means that, unlike the Greater Spell of Magical Weaponry, you can't cast it on a bow or a gun and expect the ammunition to benefit - you have to alter the projectiles on its own. And in your current condition, you can't afford to add the extra energy necessary to allow the magic to affect all those bullets, as you did to alter the arrows Hakuba Ichirou was carrying during your adventure in the Memorian Outpost. Nor do you have the time to take the ritual approach to your spellcasting.

As it is, enhancing these ten "weapons" noticeably enhances the fatigue you've been dealing with since the end of the Familiar Binding Ritual. You had considered offering to cast the Greater Spell of Magical Weaponry once or twice, but as you take stock of your condition now, you decide you'd better not push things.

While you were working, the guards whose weapons weren't going to get boosted were piling into the waiting vans. The grenadier and the one rifleman are the last, and as soon as each has leapt up into the rear of their respective vehicle, one of their buddies slams the door shut, and the driver hits the gas. The vans pull away after the two knights, who started riding for their respective gates as soon as you were done with their weapons - Arthur sparing a rather dramatic salute for his daughter before wheeling Maddoc about.

Lu-sensei ushers you and Altria back inside, and you make your way back through the house to the basement level, where you re-join the rest of Altria's family in one of the secure rooms. It's a rather drab place, the concrete surfaces not meaningfully softened by the presence of two wooden tables and half a dozen chairs.

Roderick is absent, having moved to the main security office so that he can keep up to date on events outside and know if and when reinforcements are needed.

Lucia and Anna are sitting together, talking quietly, with Lucia's sword standing up against the wall nearby; Altria goes over to join them.

Kenneth and Lance have turned on a small, older-model television sitting on a shelf at the back of the room and are flipping through the channels in search of news reports. Nearby, Mary Drake frowns at a blank spot on one wall, an aura of Divination Magic flowing easily about her.

For his part, Lu-sensei picks out an empty spot on the cold floor and settles into a meditative position.

---

Taking your cue from your master, you claim a place on the floor, fidget a little at the unrelieved chill of the rock-like surface, and close your eyes to meditate.

It proves rather difficult for you to get into the right mindset. Important Things are happening right now, and you're have a hard time keeping yourself from being distracted by them; the low murmur of conversation, the chatter of the television, and the silent but perceptible presence of active magic don't help in that regard.

For that matter, neither does the presence of your newly-formed familiar bond, or the dull ache of magical overuse. The former is just so tempting to examine and explore, while the latter is persistent and so very, very vexing...

Still, you persevere, setting aside each distraction in turn until all that remains is you.

When you next open your eyes, it's because you can hear the heavy tread of boots and the clank of steel coming down the concrete hallway.

Looking around, you find that everyone who was in the room when you began meditating is still with you, although not in the same places that they were. The TV's been switched off, and the older boys are now sitting in some of the previously-unclaimed chairs, Lance slumped over the table and Kenneth with his feet up on it, chair beneath him tilted back on its hind legs as he stares moodily at the ceiling. Anna has joined her aunt - who is no longer using magic - and the two of them are discussing something in dry, technical tones. Altria and Lucia are sitting side by side, daughter leaning into her mother's one-armed embrace and with her head tucked under her elder's chin.

Lu-sensei is just rousing himself from his own meditations, as you yourself are, and judging by the muted glow and barely-audible breathing coming from your shirt pocket, Briar seems to have decided to take a nap.

Your fairy companion aside, all eyes turn to the doorway in time to see the figure of a knight arrive.

Arthur Drake's armor is more scuffed and battered than it was the last time you saw him. Quite aside from the increased number of scratches, he's lost one of those parts of the armor that covers the joint of the shoulder. Pauldrons, you think is the word. Regardless, it's the one on the left, and it's gone, revealing the mesh armor underneath and leaving the knight rather lop-sided.

The visor of his helm has been swiveled up, revealing a grin.

A moment later, Anna has slammed into him in a hug.

"Welcome back, husband," Lucia says lightly. "What news of your battle?"

"The portals are sealed, our land has been swept of trespassers, and Roderick is overseeing the search of the surrounding area, while Eric and I take a breather," Arthur replies over his eldest child's head. "More than that, though, that cloud of living darkness has vanished from the sky, and I've had word from David that Dracula's Curse on London has been lifted."

"Dad's alright?" Lance asks.

"He is," Arthur says, before turning to his sister-in-law and nephew, and adding, "As is Eric, although he's going to need a new shield, and may have to replace some of his and Cavall's armor."

"What happened?" Kenneth groans.

"I don't have the full story myself," Arthur says, as he sits down next to his wife and youngest daughter. Anna immediately ensconces herself on his other side. "I do know that one of the golems managed to get through the rear portal before Ambrose sealed it - we ended up dealing with four of them out front, and Eric had to put down the one in the rear." Here, the knight pauses, and turns to you. "Your spell turned out to be extremely helpful, Alexander. Bullets were having even less effect on those golems than we'd expected - Ambrose said they'd been warded against projectile attacks, so even the few rounds you enchanted didn't help much. Eric could have been in real trouble if you hadn't enhanced his blade."

The expression on Kenneth's face at this point is... interesting.

"I would have been in trouble, myself, if I'd had to take on four of those things at once, or even in succession," Lord Drake readily admits. "Mace or no mace. Fortunately, their anti-bullet wards didn't fare as well against the grenades."

Well, then. Don't you just feel all warm and fuzzy for your contribution to the defense?

"That said, even with the extra enchantment, Eric's sword wasn't killing that golem as fast as my mace could have," Arthur continues. "He had to stay in close longer, and that gave the other enemies time to get in close. His men covered him, of course, but something got through regardless. Bad luck that the 'thing' in question was one of those bomb-chucking armors."

There are winces at this.

"How bad?" Mary asks.

"As I said, he'll have to replace his shield and some of his armor, but it did its job. The worst injuries he and Cavall have between them are bruising, smoke inhalation, and maybe some hearing damage."

For a guy who evidently just had a large bomb go off in his face, that's getting off lightly, supernatural body-reinforcing techniques or no.

In any event, the attack on the Drake Estate is over.

The eclipse has passed.

And from what little evidence you have, the Demon Castle War appears to have ended in a victory for the Forces of Good.

Is there anything else you absolutely MUST do today?

---

The rest of the day is spent dealing with the fallout of the eclipse.

Thanks to the preparations made by their employers, none of the Drakes' security personnel die as a result of the battle. There are some nasty injuries, though, as whatever dark mind was overseeing the attack had the bright idea of making those bomb-toting armor monsters pass some of their munitions off (unlit) to the gargoyles. Being almost as tough as golems and significantly faster, the gargoyles proved difficult to shoot down, getting in at least two "attack runs" before their supply of explosives was cut off.

As a consequence of being designed to allow the defenders to attack OUT, Ambrose's wards weren't as effective as they could have been at stopping enemy attacks from getting IN. And regardless of the power or technology levels involved, bombs have always been good at causing a lot of indiscriminate damage.

The wards still took the majority of it, but what leaked through was still enough to seriously - and dangerously - rattle those nearby.

And as the afternoon progresses, some of the men that went out with Roderick to scour the nearby countryside return with fresh wounds.

Standing off monsters from within a fortified position is one thing, even if they ARE dropping bombs on you part of the time. Going out to hunt them in the English countryside carries its own hazards.

Still, there are competent medics, magical healers, and even a few healing potions on-hand to tend the injured. Some of the men are going to have interesting scars and stories to tell after all is said and done, but they'll live.

The same can't be said for the rest of Europe.

Although the forces working behind the scenes continue to clamp down on news of the supernatural elements that were at work during the eclipse, the television still has plenty to say about the aftermath of the widespread "riots," "terrorist attacks," and "freak accidents." Much of it is depressing.

Ambrose's wager about the Colosseum in Rome being taken over by a portion of Castle Dracula appears to have been spot-on, as there's mention of damage to the ancient structure. Nor is it the only landmark to suffer harm: Notre Dame Cathedral and the Eiffel Tower, in Paris; the Acropolis, in Athens; the Blue Mosque, in Istanbul; La Sagrada Familia, in Barcelona; the Brandenburg Gate, in Berlin; these and other famous locations you recognize either by name or by sight were all hit by SOME form of disaster during the eclipse.

Stonehenge appears to have come off without a scratch, though. Or at least, any violence that occurred there didn't make the news.

The harm wrought to these national treasures has already prompted bitter accusations and repair estimates in the millions of dollars - or whatever currency you care to name - but it's nothing compared to the human cost of the day.

Despite the efforts put forth by Arthur Drake's compatriots, the British news was claiming hundreds of casualties in the "unrest" in London, with dozens more either missing or confirmed dead.

In other areas, it's worse - and that's if there's any news at isn't so much as a peep about the state of affairs in Romania, for example.

Considering where Dracula's Castle was supposed to rise, you can't help but think that's a bad sign.

This isn't to say that you spend the entire afternoon or evening back in front of the television. The adults make a point of trying to keep you and the other kids - and yes, even Kenneth - from seeing the worst of the day's events. Your offer to assist in the healing is politely but firmly turned down as a result, and you end up spending a lot of the afternoon in the stables, talking about horses and tending to your equestrian friend.

Gained Animal Handling D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Naturally, there are questions asked about the Horse, and the two of you.

How do you answer?

Incidentally, what's his name?

Your Horse welcomes the attention, though he keeps shooting wary looks at Cavall, who's been returned to the stall where he first appeared when you summoned him, had his armor removed, and been given a thorough rub-down and look over by Eric. Maddoc got the same treatment from Arthur, with the stablemistress on-hand and Altria and Kenneth drafted to assist their respective fathers.

There's some concern about Cavall, who was caught in the blast of a bomb alongside his rider, but he proves to be in good condition despite that. The protective magic worked into his armor did its job, and prevented any of the worse potential effects of being caught in a pressure wave from manifesting.

Dinner that evening is somewhat subdued, and while the idea of talking to Altria about the possibility of her getting magic-lessons occurs to you, you can't really find the energy for it. The day's simply been too long and too taxing in too many different ways.

What with one thing and another, you're quite happy to call it an early night, and you're out almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

---

When asked about the Horse, you explain that there is a connection between the two of you, albeit one that you have yet to explore in depth.

"Why is that?" Anna Drake asks.

"Honestly? This is actually only the third time I've summoned this guy-" you pat the Horse on the nose "-and the first time wasn't any more intentional than this one. I just sent out a general call for a creature of Shadow, and he's the one that turned up in my summoning circle."

You notice that Arthur and Eric start paying you just a bit more attention at this point.

"I wanted to trade for a Shadow reagent," you say, in answer to the unspoken question. "He got an apple and some grooming, I got a few hairs from his mane."

The Horse's ears prick up at that, and he shakes his head, bringing attention to his fiery mane while giving you a hopeful look.

"I can give you a comb, if you want, but I don't need any more Shadow reagents right now," you tell him.

Even if you did, you never actually USED the Horsehair that you took the first time you did this.

Rather than conjure a comb as you did months earlier in Gen's basement, you borrow one of the many grooming implements the Drakes have at hand, and then set to work.

As you work a snarl out of the Horse's hair, you ponder a detail that visiting these stables has brought to your attention.

Specifically, his name.

Every other horse in here has one, from the two war-horses Maddoc and Cavall, to Anna's more whimsically titled mare Cloud Dancer and Lucia's Cesarina Gloriana III, to the little foal Llamrei that Altria is spending so much time fussing over.

In such company, the absence of a name for your own once and future mount grates.

At the same time, however, you're reluctant to simply hang a name on him. For one thing, you're having a hard time picking one - too many possibilities spring to mind, and then fall by the wayside as quickly as they came. Giving him a name that references the dark hue of his coat, like Sable, Nox, or Penumbra, seems a little too pat, while borrowing the name of a famous horse would necessarily require you to KNOW the names of some famous horses. You're a bit short on those, at least when it comes to Earth's legendary equines.

And you're definitely not naming him Epona. Or anything else in Hylian.

Besides, there's a chance the Horse already has a name.

You should ask him.

With the danger of the eclipse having passed and taken your need for an emergency teleport with it, you feel no reluctance - and only a slight twinge from the minor amount of ritually-gathered mana - in casting the Spell To Speak With Animals.

"We haven't been formally introduced yet," you begin, speaking in a low, quiet voice that you hope won't carry to the others in the large room.

The Horse turns his head so that he can stare at you, eyes wide.

"My name's Alex," you go on. "What's yours?"

There is a pause, and then...

"Wow!" As the Horse half-hops in place, you hear the voice of a boy a couple years younger than you, innocent and excited. "You can speak Horse!"

"What?"

That... came from one of the mares. Anna's, you think.

"He can?"

And that was the other mare.

"You said what, now?"

And that was Cavall, who sounds a bit like his rider, at least in terms of accent.

"He talked!" the Horse whinnies, almost prancing in place from sheer delight. "He talked to me! In Horse!"

"Don't be foalish," Cavall snorts. "Humans can't speak Horse. Haven't got the ears for it."

"But-"

"We can learn to understand them," Maddoc interjects kindly, but firmly. "But they can't speak Horse any more than we can speak Human."

"But he did talk! He did!" Your Horse turns to you. "Do it again!"

...

Okay, this is NOT what you had in mind. Maybe you should have tweaked the spell to be a little more selective about WHICH animals it let you speak to...?

Aaaand you're getting the foal-eyes again. "Please?"

Can you say no to a face like that?

---

There is just something about the combination of wide, teary eyes and a quavering lip on the face of a seemingly innocent young creature that shoots straight to the heart, as sure and as devastating as any bolt, bullet, or spell.

And so it is that you find yourself repeating your question, without a moment's hesitation.

"Like I said, my name's Alex. What's yours?"

Instead of answering, the Horse turns to his current stable-mates and says, "See? I told you!" in clear triumph.

For a moment, none of them answer, as they are all too busy staring at you. Even the foal has stretched his or her neck to see over the top of the stall, and peer in amazement at the talking human.

"Do you see something interesting over there, Llamrei?" Altria wonders.

"I say!" Eric exclaims. "Careful, Cavall! Nearly knocked me over..."

"Sorry, Eric," Cavall mutters apologetically. "Almost forgot you were there for a moment."

"Well," Maddoc says slowly. "This is a new one on me. I do believe I owe you an apology, young colt. It seems that I was in error; humans actually CAN speak Horse, as long as they use magic."

Your Horse preens.

"Are you going to answer his question, then?" Anna's mare, Cloud Dancer, asks.

"Huh?" The Horse regards her blankly for a moment, and then blinks. "I mean, uh, yes! Of course!" He quickly turns to you. "Hi, Alex! My name's Khamsin!"

Hearing that name is a bit like an electrical shock.

Khamsin.

You recall the word being used in one of the Hyrulean holy books, but it's much more familiar to you than that.

A Gerudo word adopted into Hylian through the traders, travelers, and soldiers that braved the edges of the desert, "khamsin" is the proper name for one of the various hot, dry, and dust-ridden winds that blow through the ancient desert. Capable of reaching great speeds and blowing for hours at a time, the khamsin can occur at any time of the year, but is especially prevalent during the spring months, where it is sometimes a weekly phenomenon - when it isn't more frequent. Oppressive even for those that call the desert home, the khamsin can be devastating to unprepared foreigners, especially if they come in force and armed for war; more than one legend credits it as an "army-killer," choking foolish invaders and leaving them easy prey for the otherwise outnumbered Gerudo.

...some of that, you realize, didn't come from the religious texts, or the conversation you had with Briar regarding it.

"That's... a nice name," you say faintly.

Khamsin tosses his head. "Yeah! Mom says I got it because when I'm all grown up, I'll be able to run for fifty days without stopping!"

Cavall snorts.

"Best work up to that one, colt," Maddoc advises. "You know, pace yourself."

"Yeah," Khamsin sighs. "I can't even run for ONE day yet." Then he stamps his right front hoof on the stable floor. "But I'll get there!"

It seems that not only does your horse have a name, he has an ambition, too.

That's good to know. Isn't it?

"So, so," Khamsin says to you next. "What kind of name is 'Alex' for a human?"

You spend a little time going over the origins of your name: explaining first that it's short for "Alexander"; touching on how you were christened in honor of one of your great-grandfathers; and then going back to famous past owners, from the ancient conqueror to the inventor of the telephone.

The horses seem to like the idea of being named after family - Lucia's mare interrupts to explain that she, her dam, and her grand-dam were all given the same name - although the prospect of being named for famous figures also goes over well.

You have almost ten minutes left before your Spell to Speak With Animals lapses. Is there anything else you want to ask Khamsin or the other horses in that time? Or would you rather just make idle talk? As it is, some of your two-legged companions are starting to send suspicious looks your way, in response to the "odd" behavior of the horses.

---

When you ask the Drakes' horses if they'd like to speak to their riders, ears prick forward in interest from all directions.

"Do you mean, all the time?" Maddoc asks curiously. "Or just right now?"

"More the latter," you admit.

Your grasp of Divination Magic is sufficiently advanced that, if it was just a matter of giving creatures that already had the physical capacity to speak a language the requisite understanding, you could modify the usually-temporary Spell of Tongues to provide a permanent effect. The spell would be well beyond your current ability to cast, much less to cast multiple times, as would be necessary for all the horses, but a good night's rest would sort that out.

A horse's mouth is very different from a human's, however, and by itself, something like the Spell of Tongues wouldn't do the job. The Spell To Speak With Animals wouldn't work quite right, either, unless you were going to cast it on the Drakes, as - like most of your magic - it's meant to function on a humanoid subject. As varied as humanoids can be, horses are something else again. And these aren't just animals, they're intelligent beings in their own right, which makes some things easier and others more difficult.

The long and short of it is, you can't provide permanent translation for the horses just now.

"Hmmm," the stallion muses. "And would this be for all of us, or just a few?"

"More like just the one," you have to admit.

The Spell To Speak With Animals is normally self-targeting. Making it affect another person wouldn't increase the cost by an unreasonable amount, but you couldn't afford to also make it multi-targeting, let alone to re-cast it on everyone here.

The horses trade speaking glances.

"We'll pass," Cavall replies. "At least this time."

"But thank you for the offer," Cesarina Gloriana III adds. "It is appreciated."

Gained King of Beasts D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

You nod, and go back to talking quietly with Khamsin. You learn a little about him, mainly that he is part of a small herd that resides in "the shadow place," and occasionally ventures from there "to other places," following the his mother's sense of direction and opportunities presented by chance. The dark colt describes some of his favorite places, among them "the forest place, where the light's never too bright and there are apples, but you have to go pretty slow," "the grassy place, where the sky is always at twilight and you can run forever," "the other grassy place, where it can be too bright sometimes, but the grazing is amazing," and "the hot place, which is kind of scary - for foals - but is all kinds of awesome for big colts like me!"

Sorting through the childish tone and a decided lack of any technical terminology or distinct names, you speculate that Khamsin is describing an inter-planar migratory route that makes use of the Shadow Plane. As for these "places" he mentions, you have to admit that they could be almost anywhere.

As your talk and your spell wind down, you ask Khamsin if his mother will be worried about his absence. It's already been an hour or so since you inadvertantly summoned him, and it'll be most of a day before that particular spell fades on its own.

"Naaah, she won't be worried," he neighs. "We're staying in the grassy twilight place right now, and she lets me run by myself all day when we're there, because nothing scary lives there."

"That sounds nice," you say.

"It's great! Hey, do you want to come visit, Alex?"

He sounds hopeful, but alas, you'll have to dash that particular dream.

"I'd like to, but I can't," you tell him. "At least not today."

"Awww... why not?"

You explain to Khamsin that you cast a big spell earlier today, and you're in no state to go traveling to other places until you've rested and recovered from that. Even if you were better-off, you're already in the middle of visiting a friend, and it'd be rude for you to go gallivanting off by yourself - and you have your doubts that your friend's parents would let her go with you.

And then there's Lu-sensei to consider, as well as your lack of parental permission for an extra-planar jaunt.

Khamsin doesn't quite seem to grasp the idea of host-guest etiquette, but he has no trouble with the idea of having to get permission from your parents before you can go somewhere. He seems to consider his mother's permission to "run" to be excuse enough to be here, but when you press on that point a little, the young horse admits he'd get in trouble if he stayed late.

Your translation spell ends partway through that phase of your conversation, and you dragoon Briar into providing some additional interpretation, so you can tie up the loose ends.

You conclude Khamsin's visit with a final pat, willing your Summoning Magic to end.

There is a blur of shadow, and your equestrian friend vanishes.

"I say!"

...aaaand so does Cavall, along with all the gear he was originally wearing when he turned up.

Fortunately, Eric wasn't sitting on him or anything, so he's no worse than startled.

"He just... disappeared!" the mustachioed knight exclaims. Blinking once, and then frowning at a sudden thought, he turns to you. "Could that have happened at any time?"

"Not at ANY time," you temporize. "But if Dracula's bunch had included a spellcaster, he could have recognized that Cavall had been summoned and cast a spell to dismiss him."

Eric isn't alone in considering that. You can see his brother, and the kids, all imagining what it would have looked like if he'd been riding Cavall when a Spell of Banishment hit.

Kenneth isn't the only one to laugh at the ensuing mental image, he's just the only one who doesn't bother to restrain it.

Eric gives his son a sour look, mustache ruffling. "Yes, well. Good thing that didn't happen, then." He turns to his brother. "And next time there's an apocalypse, I am bringing my horse."

"Duly noted," Arthur says in a level voice.

With that, you all leave the stables.

That night, you have a dream of knights riding horses that aren't really there.

Coconuts are involved.

When you awaken the next day, your first coherent thought is to wonder what the heck you ate at dinner that could have caused you to dream something like THAT.

Your next thought is to recall what's on schedule for today. First order of business, of course, is checking your overall condition, including your newly-formed familiar bond, but after that...

---

...you have a full-Power exhibition-style match with Altria.

Oh, yes.

You're definitely looking forward to that. Fighting with your ki and a sword against Altria's Mana Burst and sword was fun, but a match where you can use Maximum Power promises to be even better.

Still, that's not going to be for a few hours yet, and you have a few things to do before then.

You start by checking your reserves, and confirming that they've recovered to full overnight. Not that you doubted they would; for all the eventfulness of the day, you only used up about a twelfth of your maximum mana, while your other reserves weren't even scratched.

This casual self-assessment is followed immediately by a deeper, slower examination of your body and its metaphysical systems. The power you invoked during the Familiar Binding Ritual stressed you in a way you aren't used to, more due to sheer length of time you were working magic than because of the amount of mana you channeled at any given time. In absolute terms, you've spent more power in some of your magically-intensive fights than you did in the Ritual, but those battles were like the magical equivalent of power-lifting, compared to the marathon run you did yesterday.

No, that's not an exact analogue.

Yes, it is deliberate.

Magic is annoying like that sometimes.

Still, while you may have magically winded yourself yesterday, the strain had eased considerably by dinnertime, even with the added stress of the handful of spells you'd cast. With a full eight hours of bed rest behind you, you feel almost as good as new. There's still a slight sense of something less than pain, something that's almost beneath notice, when you cycle mana through your system - a silent warning from your body that undertaking a second magical endurance trial so soon after the first would not be a great idea.

It's weirdly fortunate that fights with Maximum Power don't - and indeed, can't - last that long.

Satisfied as to the state of your magical abilities, you move on to the big ticket item: your new Familiar Bond.

While your magical stress eased steadily over the course of the previous afternoon and evening, the sensation of the newly-made link between you and Briar was going the other way, getting stronger and clearer. It also continued to twinge where its previous, Hellmouth-tainted form had been cut off and burnt out at the peak of the ceremony, so you'd avoided poking at it.

The pain is gone now, however, and so you do not hesitate to reach for the link in your mind, intent on exploring its form and its functions-

"Ow!"

-only for your mind to bang against something coming the other way, and psychically reel back, trailing a sense of curiosity/surprise/pain/annoyance/interest that both is and is not your own.

You have to pause to rub your forehead at the confusing mix of feelings and impulses.

"Well," Briar groans, "the good news is, the empathic connection is coming through loud and clear."

It takes you about half an hour, and several more mental "collisions," to get a handle on your new connection with your fairy companion. Briar reports feeling more energized and alert than is usual for her at this hour of the day, not to mention more MAGICALLY energized than she EVER feels.

When you study Briar and your link, you can see some of your own mana forming a protective layer around her, while more has formed a secondary pool of mana adjacent to her natural reserves. The traces of life-energy that pass through the link, meanwhile, are reinforcing Briar internally, strengthening her own vital essence without ever mixing with it.

You spend quite a bit of time just looking - and then not-looking - at that linked-yet-separate flow of energies with your various enhanced senses. It registers on nearly all of them, if you look - or not-look - in the correct way, the exception being your Corruption Sense, which doesn't so much as twitch when you aim it at the bond.

Gained Ki Sense B (Plus)
Gained Spiritual Sight C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

The magical link that allows you to treat Briar as an extra limb, for the purposes of channeling certain spells, is also present and working smoothly. You confirm that empirically, casting a simple cantrip and having Briar fly over to touch one of the bedposts, which immediately shifts from dark-stained brown to hues of red and gold.

After doing that, Briar hovers in mid-air for a moment before alighting on the bedside table.

She takes a stance, wings folded back, and then begins to perform one of your katas. She starts off slow but steady, and gradually picks up speed, her form technically precise - save where the drag of her wings is throwing her off - and more than a little eerie to see in action.

That's because you're pretty sure it's YOUR style that you're seeing here. Not just the School of Five Elements, but a scaled-down mimicry of how you, personally, would perform that series of movements.

The fairy stops, and utters a single, "Whoa."

"What?"

She looks up at you. "I know kung fu."

...

You snort in amusement. "You've been waiting to use that one for a while now, haven't you?"

"Ever since we saw it at the theater," she admits.

Gained Pop Culture E (Plus) (Plus)

Briar's little demonstration confirms that she can access your skills and knowledge through the link, although further testing turns up some significant limitations. As a case in point, while Briar knows HOW you move to use your martial arts skills, she doesn't have the physical conditioning to really apply that knowledge. In addition, not only does Briar have to think about what she's doing, she's effectively using the link to ask you what to do, waiting for the answer, and THEN acting on it. Her little display of fairy-sized kung fu took a lot of concentration and preparation to pull off, and as you saw, the end results were not really suited for Briar herself to use, much less outside of controlled conditions like this.

There's a few points about the link that you still haven't tested.

One is the possibility that, because she now has some of your magic flowing around and through her, Briar will be actively resistant to spells cast by others. The results of any tests the two of you might run regarding that particular ability would be suspect, as you couldn't be entirely certain if your link wasn't allowing your spells to bypass Briar's theoretical resistance. You'd need a third, spellcasting party to be sure.

Another thing to consider is how visible - or not-visible - your new link is to others. You and Briar can both find it pretty easily, but it's connected to you on multiple levels. Familiar bonds are supposed to be a lot less obvious to those who aren't part of them, but to be sure, you're going to need another spellcaster's opinion. Again.

The last part you're thinking of is that you haven't yet tried to see how the bond reacts to Power. You're holding off on that mostly because everyone's still on alert after yesterday's events, and a sudden surge of intense supernatural energy from inside the manor would probably spark... unfortunate reactions.

At the very least, you feel you should let your hosts know what you plan to do, BEFORE you do it.

With that in mind, you get on with your usual daily wake-up regimen, then hit the shower and make ready for breakfast.

Whose advice will you seek, regarding the state of your familiar bond?

---

The choice is obvious. Ambrose already knows a great deal about you and Briar, and he was involved in the Familiar Binding Ritual (if at a remove), having provided you with both a revised ritual diagram and the location of the site you used.

Besides, you need to drop off that recording crystal. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

You nod to your reflection in the mirror-

!

-and then pause, as you notice something... a little concerning.

Slowly, and without taking your eyes off of your reflection, you raise your right hand, index finger extended to touch the top of your ear.

...

Yup.

It's pointy.

You spend a minute just standing there, staring at your elf-like- no, FAIRY-like ears.

How did you NOT notice...? Okay, it's not like you pay incredible amounts of attention to your EARS, but surely, you would have noticed your hair rubbing on them differently, or something?

For that matter, why didn't BRIAR notice? Or if she did, why didn't she SAY something?

...and why does this feel OKAY to you? And not in a "Ganondorf was used to it, so it feels familiar" kind of way? Just... okay, like nothing's wrong and it's completely natural.
Maybe because it is?
You frown.
He worries over the oddest things, sometimes.
What was...?
Shhh!
You could have sworn you heard something just now.

...

You wait, but the noise doesn't repeat itself.

Shaking your head, you start looking yourself over for any other unexpected changes.

At first glance, you don't spot anything so obvious as what's happened to your ears. All those Gerudo traits you inherited from Ganondorf are still present, though they'd faded significantly since Navi purged you of the worst of your past life's influence. Your skin still holds a hint of brown, your hair yet retains highlights that gleam red when the light hits them right, and you've still got the makings of that distinctive nose, but these features have in no way grown more obvious overnight.

Your eyes, on the other hand...

Before you delved too deeply into Ganondorf's power, your eyes were an unremarkable brown; afterwards, they took on a slight golden hue. Like your other Gerudo features, that altered pigmentation had been fading in the wake of Navi's purification.

That much hasn't changed.

But now, if you look close, there are flecks of blue-green in there amidst the gold.

The same shade as Briar's eyes.

You consider this in silence.

As a rule, a familiar bond has the GREATEST effect on the familiar. The master is physically bigger, more magically powerful, and the very nature of the bond is to make the familiar more than he, she, or it was to begin with. Smarter, tougher, more capable.

But there are effects on the master, too. Most commonly, practitioners are supposed to benefit from enhanced senses, while certain types of animals have reputations for providing other benefits. The master of a cat familiar might gain a portion of its agility, while the master of a hawk familiar might develop truly exceptional distance vision.

You hadn't noticed any obvious improvements to your senses before, but then, your eyes and ears were pretty sharp to begin with. Now, however, if you pay attention and focus JUST so...

Gained Fairy Sense E (Plus) (Plus) (E (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Fairy Sight E (Plus) (Plus) (E (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Looking B (Plus) (Plus) (B (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Listening C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) (C (Plus) (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Mage Sense B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) (B (Plus) (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Mage Sight B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) (B (Plus) (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Scenting D (Plus) (Plus) (D (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Spiritual Sense B (Plus) (Plus) (B (Plus) without Familiar Bond)
Gained Spiritual Sight B (C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) without Familiar Bond)

...yeah.

One MORE thing to discuss with Ambrose, you suppose with a sigh.

What are you going to do about your new look?

---

After a long moment of consideration, you shrug and adjust your hair, so that your ears and their newly-modified appearance are plainly visible.

You were startled at first, but now that you're past the initial surprise, you see no reason to act like you're afraid of the change in your features - and none at all to act as though you were ashamed of it.

That isn't to suggest that you plan on walking around Sunnydale with your hair pulled back, so that everyone who so much as glances in your direction will HAVE to realize that you're different, but when you're out of the public eye, whether by yourself or with people who you know and trust, you're not going to shy away from the truth.

Besides, you conclude, as you give yourself a final look in the mirror, this isn't a bad look for you. The elf-like, faintly Hylian/Gerudo look adds a certain something, a hint of otherworldliness, that you can see being very useful in the right circumstances.

Gained King of Fairies D
Gained Style D
Gained Totem of the Raging Boar B (Plus)

Fully-prepared to face the day and everything that comes after, you leave the bathroom.

"Hey, Alex," Briar greets you, flying over as you re-enter the main suite. "I felt you poking at the bond again. Is something up?"

Wordlessly, you point to your ears.

Briar looks.

There is a pause.

"Huh," the fairy finally says. "So, making the bond did that?"

You nod.

"Were there any other effects I should know about?"

You point at your eyes. "I have spots of blue-green in them, now, and there's been a very slight increase to most of my sensory skills."

"...you don't say," Briar says slowly. For a moment, you wonder if she's going to leave it at that, but then she adds, "Alex, if by any chance you happen to start hearing things..."

"Actually," you interrupt, "I definitely heard SOMETHING a minute ago."

"Oh?" Briar asks with forced casualness. "Like... voices, maybe?"

"...maybe," you admit, as you think back. "Faint, and kind of distant, but it COULD have been voices."

You're prevented from saying anything further as Briar glows brightly and makes a sudden, wild spin, scattering motes of magical light in all directions while she squeals in delight.

"I'll take that as a sign that you think that was what - or rather, who - I think it was," you say. Then you shake your head. "You know, if half-imagined whispers are the extent of what the Hylians could hear from the Goddesses..."

"Oh, most of them these days can't even hear that much," Briar says as she gets control over herself. "At least, not outside the Royal Family, the high clergy, and some of the lines descended from the Sages - and even THEN, it takes training for them to understand what they're hearing. But Mom says the ability still turned up in the general population when she was young, before the Great Deviled Ham started making a mess of things."

You frown slightly at that. "So it's NOT just an old folk tale, or propaganda by the Church?"

"Nope." Briar shakes her head. "Way, way back, probably before the Great Fairies of MOM's childhood were born, all the Hylians really could hear the voices of the Goddesses. Some of that was due to divine favor, some was down to pure magical ability, and some of it" - and you can HEAR the grin in her voice at this point - "was their ties to Nature, and the Fae."

...huh.

Gained Hyrulean Theology C

"I see. And you didn't mention the possibility of this happening before, because...?"

"I didn't even know if it would work. You may be Ganondorf's reincarnation and have the attention of the Goddesses, but you're still human, and we're on a completely different world, one that's subject to rules laid down by different deities. To say nothing of that damn Hellmouth."

Okay, fair point. The Hellmouth alone tends to interfere with things in a bad way, as you well know by this point.

You're still discussing the matter with Briar as you head down to breakfast. You keep an eye out for Ambrose as you go, but the wizard doesn't turn up.

Then again, he hasn't attended any of the meals you've had since coming to the Drake Estate. You suppose that does make sense, as - wizard or no - Ambrose is still technically hired help, and the servants don't customarily eat with their employers.

Granted, it's AMBROSE. You wouldn't be at all surprised if he occasionally - or even regularly - ignored that rule, just because he could.

In any case, you enter the dining room to find it not only wizard-free, but with a decided dearth of adults in general. Lu-sensei is present, working his way through a couple of pancakes, and one of the servants is on hand, clearing away an empty platter, but three out of four adult Drakes, as well as Mr. Pritchard, are absent. Only Lucia is in her usual seat.

All the kids are here, though, Altria and the boys demolishing large stacks of pancakes that drip with syrup and melted butter, as well as whole rashers of bacon. Anna's portions are more modest, and she seems to favor a red jam for her pancakes.

"Good morning, Alex," Lucia greets you with a smile. "Did you rest well?"

"I did, ma'am," you answer, as you take your place at the table and begin gathering your first meal of the day.

"Good, good. I know that you and Altria are looking forward to your re-match-"

You trade glances with the blonde in question, and can almost see the competitive spark flash across the space between you.

Then Altria does a double-take.

You smile. She noticed!

"-and it would be a shame if you were still recovering from yesterday's exertions." Lucia pauses and studies you. "Hmmm. New additions, or simply a change of style?"

The rest of the table look at her, puzzled, and then at you.

Kenneth's eyes promptly bug out, and for a moment, you wonder if he's going to choke on his meal.

The other reactions are tamer, but no less startled - well, except for Lu-sensei.

He merely sighs, shakes his head, and reaches for a cup of coffee.

"The former," you answer.

"Ah. Magical consequences, then."

"Yes."

"Nothing bad, I would hope?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good, good. And it's not a bad look for you at all, I must say."

"Thank you."

Lucia smiles. "You're most welcome. Although, speaking of consequences and such, we might have to delay your bout for a few hours."

"Oh?"

Lucia nods, humming. "Arthur and the boys are having a lie-in this morning, as they usually do the day after a major battle. Something of a habit they've developed over the years, though not always a bad one..." She trails off for a moment, smiling oddly, and then shakes her head. "In any event, they'd raise a fuss if they missed the fight."

You delay answering long enough to savor your first bite of breakfast.

The pancakes are DELICIOUS.

"That's fine by me, Miss Lucia," you answer after swallowing. "I was planning to spend some time with Ambrose this morning anyway. If he's available?"

"He should be," your hostess replies. "You might have to wrangle him away from a project, but I understand you had something he wanted?"

You nod, thinking of the Recording Crystal.

---

After half an hour of light conversation - mostly about what happened to your ears - and fluffy, syrup-laden goodness - with a side of bacon - you wipe the sticky traces of your meal away from around your mouth, excuse yourself from the table, and go in search of a wizard.

Following helpful directions from the staff, you make your way back to the room with the summoning orrery, where you find Ambrose, wearing some kind of dull grey jumpsuit and with his head and shoulders stuck inside an open panel on the back of the thing, muttering to himself between flashes of magically-produced actinic light. There's also a large black plastic tool-chest laying on the floor by his feet.

Pausing a few feet away from the wizard, you reach to one side and rap lightly on the frame of the deactivated machine. "Ambrose?"

There is a final flare of light, before the old man straightens up and steps out from behind the open panel, revealing that his face is covered by a welder's mask. He's also carrying a blowtorch, though it isn't currently projecting a flame, and has an array of additional tools hanging in or from his heavy belt. At a glance, you spot a hammer, an adjustable wrench, and half a dozen screwdrivers, as well as more properly-arcane items like a hexagonal crystal rod that glows faintly blue, a runestone device similar to the one the guards were using to measure magical energies yesterday, and a wooden rattle with little bone fragments tied to it.

A blacked-out visor regards you for a moment, before Ambrose levers up his mask, revealing in the process that he's got most of his beard stuffed down the front of his coveralls.

"So, what's gone wrong this time that has you hunting me down first thing after breakfast?" the old man asks. "I must warn you, if you say that the world is about to end AGAIN, I will be very vexed."

He brandishes the torch in a manner that would be more intimidating if it was still turned on, but is still fairly effective, considering that you can tell the thing is enchanted.

"Nothing like that, Ambrose," you say. "I was just looking to drop off that crystal you left with me, and to ask you for your opinion on a few things."

He peers at you, suspiciously, and then his eyes briefly shift from left to right.

"Well, I WAS in the middle of something," he sighs, making a great show of reluctance even as he pulls his spectacles out from a pocket and puts them on. "But I suppose I could spare you a few minutes. First thing's first, though; the crystal?"

You produce the magical globe from your pocket, and hand it over. Ambrose in turn sets it down in the box sitting next to his mechanized model of the solar system.

"I should have a couple of hours free this afternoon to watch that," he notes. "Now, what where these things you wanted my opinion on?"

You ask the wizard if he can perceive your new bond with Briar, and if so, whether or not there's anything about it the two of you should be aware of that you might have missed, being "inside" the link as you are.

Ambrose looks you and Briar over, once with what you assume is his equivalent of your passive Mage Sight, and then again with an active application of that power that makes his glasses glow eerily.

"Looks like a classic augmented master/familiar bond to me," he says after a moment. "Still a little raw at the edges, where you broke the old one, but nothing that would weaken it or either of you."

The fact that he was able to get a reading off of Briar piques your interest, and you inquire if there was any difficulty or interference there.

Ambrose says there wasn't, which suggests that your partner didn't gain the benefits of magic resistance after all.

At least, not yet. The bond will get stronger over time, as you do.

That's the basic stuff out of the way, then.

What next?

---

Ask Ambrose if you could borrow his spellcasting chamber to run some experiments with your Power.

When you make your request, the wizard's eyes light up behind his glasses in a way that has nothing to do with Divination Magic.

"My boy, I would be DELIGHTED to loan you the room. Just give me a minute to finish up here..."

Ambrose sticks the inactive blowtorch through a loop in his belt and then ducks back behind the open panel on the orrery, doing something to its unseen internals. Maybe six seconds later, he leans back and swings the panel shut, tugs his beard out from beneath his coveralls, and then crouches to close and retrieve his toolbox.

Ambrose easily hefts the large case with one hand; that, plus a faint thrum of Augmentation Magic and Elementalism, tells you that the box is enchanted to reduce its weight.

"Right this way," the wizard says, as he ushers you out of the astronomy chamber.

As the two of you walk through the halls of the Drake Estate - with Briar sitting at ease on your shoulder - you ask Ambrose for his thoughts about the changes in your appearance. You're not exactly upset about them, nor do you think you made any mistakes in the ritual, but an outside opinion for these things is always useful.

"Familiar bonds that actively alter the appearance of the 'master' are unusual, but they're not unheard of," Ambrose replies. "You see it most often in followers of the druidic traditions, as their entire magical philosophy is built on the concept of getting closer to Nature, or in older practitioners who've maintained a single bond for a long period of time, and absorbed a lot of their partner's essence."

While you do know something of Nature Magic, you wouldn't describe yourself as a druid by any means.

"It can also happen when someone chooses to bond with a being that has a particularly powerful, unruly, or just plain WEIRD magical natures," Ambrose goes on. "Dragons, demons, celestials, and the sort of eldritch entities that give people headaches just by existing are the usual offenders there, but Fae certainly qualify as well. The only other time it's an issue is if someone REALLY screws up during the bonding ceremony, but seeing as how you haven't started growing wings or shrinking, I think we can safely say that you did it right."

His vote of confidence is overwhelming.

"You mentioned long-term effects," Briar notes. "How long, exactly?"

"Oh, decades, easily." Ambrose frowns thoughtfully. "Then again, most practitioners don't bind their familiars at such a young age as you have, lad; they certainly don't have as strong a bond as you've formed, or as strong a partner. Most people need a few more years before they can manage to bond with a simple animal. You may be in for a more interesting adolescence than most."

You're not sure how to respond to that.

In any event, the door Ambrose has just thrown open leads to that familiar stretch of hallway that connects his workshop with the stone-walled ritual-chamber you saw the last time you were here.

Ambrose opens up one of the doors that you didn't see the other side of, revealing a fairly ordinary storage room, albeit one whose shelves are filled with spell components, minor focuses, and a few relatively mundane tools. The wizard sets his toolkit on one shelf, unlatches his belt and hangs it up from a hook on a different wall, and then exits the room and shows you to his casting chamber.

The stone-walled room and its elaborate array of metal and crystal haven't changed since your previous visit, when Ambrose used the place to help him look into your soul. As before, you're asked to stand in the center circle while the wizard fires up the array.

Crossing the room, you ponder how to begin. The most practical approach would be to start by channeling your Power alone - not enough to actually DO anything with, just enough to see if it has any impact on Briar or your bond by existing. From there, you'd use one of your simpler Power techniques, possibly all of them in succession, before using a brief burst of Maximum Power. Ideally, you'd finish with a longer use of that particular skill, to see if it gets more dangerous over time.

Aside from the effects (or lack thereof) of your Power, your only real concern here is how much of your energy you should spend. You're at full strength right now, but you DO have that sparring match with Altria later. It wouldn't do to burn up so much of your energies that you can't give her a proper fight, but at the same time, the more energy you use up testing your Power, the more data points you, Briar, and Ambrose are going to have to work with.

---

Between the potions in your pocket and Briar's fairy dust healing, you think you can afford to spend a fairly large portion of your mana on experiments. A score of ideas for combining magic and ki flash past your mind's eye, but you set those aside for the moment, and focus on the task at hand.

You begin by gathering the smallest amount of mana and ki that you can, separating each mote of energy from your greater reserves and then bringing them together, as you do in the "first step" of each of your Power techniques. Rather than channeling the Power to some specific part of your body, as you do with your Power Fist and Power Sight techniques, or expelling it from your body as you do with Power Ball and Power Burst, you try to hold the energy where it is, letting it do whatever it does when left to itself.

For the next several seconds, the golden power burns within you, and around you.

Gained Power Aura F

And then, devoid of any particular purpose or additional energy, it burns out.

You look at your partner. "Briar?"

"I feel fine, Alex."

You turn to the wizard. "Ambrose?"

"You glowed a bit and gave off some interesting readings in the process, but did nothing that I could see as being harmful," comes the answer.

You nod, and proceed to the next phase, which is using each of your Power techniques in turn, from least energy intensive and violently-expressed to most.

Power Blade, used on a plain metal rod that Ambrose spots you from his stockpile of materials, proves to have no effect on your bond. Having discussed the matter with you and Ambrose beforehand, Briar takes a chance and tries to touch the infused weapon, but quickly withdraws, finding the crackling golden aura too hot to handle.

Gained Power Blade F (Plus) (Plus)

Power Sight, Power Sense, and Power Fist each yield similar results. Channeling your Power does not harm your link with Briar, but once the Power has manifested in the form you've chosen, Briar receives no special protection from its effects. She's as obvious to your two sensory skills as Ambrose is, and exchanging a high-five with your Power Fist gives her a bit of a shock - though thanks to your focus at the time, the technique doesn't discharge in the process.

Gained Power Sight E (Plus)

Given these results, Briar opts NOT to press her luck by trying to bounce a Power Ball back at you, or by attempting to withstand a Power Burst, so you wait for her to clear the warded circle before performing those two techniques.

The Power Ball forms without issue, and when you fling it down at the bare stone within the forty-foot-wide circle at the heart of the summoning-and-testing array, it discharges harmlessly, leaving the stone unmarked and the magic of the array undisturbed.

Testing out Power Burst goes the same way, as the omnidirectional blast-wave of the still-rudimentary technique only extends two or three feet from your skin.

Gained Power Burst F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

With your lesser Power techniques out of the way, you take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then focus.

Mana in one hand.

Ki in the other.

Bring them together.

And for a few seconds, you blaze like the sun at noon.

You don't try to hold Maximum Power any longer than that, and as it lapses, you turn to Briar and Ambrose.

"All good on my end," the fairy says.

"No harmful effects that I can detect," the wizard adds slowly. His attention is fixed on a free-floating screen of magical energy, and the characters scrolling along it. "Although..."

"What?"

Ambrose turns to you. "I have to ask, lad, has anyone ever tried to cast a spell on you when you're glowing like that?"

You think back, but nothing comes to mind. Only a few of the beings you've fought have been proper spellcasters, and you didn't use Maximum Power against any of them.

When you say as much, Ambrose responds by asking if you'd mind using your technique again, while he casts a few spells at you.

Naturally, you immediately ask what KIND of spells, but Ambrose says he doesn't want to contaminate the experiment by informing you beforehand.

---

Your initial meeting with Ambrose ended with him slapping a seal on you without consent or warning, and in the months since then, you've been exposed to other examples of his questionable priorities, sense of humor, and just plain bad habits.

Despite all of his objectionable qualities, the old man HAS demonstrated that when it comes to magic, he knows what he's doing, and as such, has earned a degree of trust in the lab.

On an entirely different note, you have to agree that his desire not to introduce a bias to this next round of tests is scientifically sound.

Gained Science E (Plus)

As such, you nod to Ambrose, who asks for a moment to make some preparations. With a gesture and a word that invoke Summoning Magic, the wizard reaches out and grasps at seemingly-empty air, causing his staff to appear in his hand. He murmurs a word of command, and the staff's aura first blurs in and then disappears from your magical senses.

Ambrose signals his readiness, and for you to start.

Once again, you gather your mana and your ki, and reactivate your Maximum Power.

Ambrose calls, "Try not to move," and begins firing spells at you almost at once, using command words that awaken the power of his staff. Lacking forewarning of their nature, and with what you assume is some variant on the Spell of Nondetection concealing the staff's aura from your passive senses - though not ENTIRELY from your Power-infused gaze - you're left to take the magic as it comes.

The first spell is an invisible web of mana that you easily recognize as the humble Spell to Detect Magic.

You wonder why Ambrose opened up with that one, when he'd previously used much more powerful Divination Magic through the summoning array. Perhaps to establish some sort of baseline?

In any case, the next spell the wizard throws your way is a spark of electricity, which bursts into existence and across the space between the two of you with a flash and a crack, fast enough that - under normal circumstances - you might have trouble reacting in time to dodge it.

With Maximum Power up and magnifying your senses, reflexes, and speed, the difficulty lies in NOT dodging the magic, which you have time enough to recognize as a mere cantrip before it hits you.

The strangest thing happens then.

Your golden aura doesn't STOP the spell, but it DOES slow it down, allowing you to get a good, long look at how the mana bound up in Ambrose's magic is clashing with your Power - and being frayed in the process.

The bolt still forces its way through, but what strikes you is a decidedly ragged spell, something you'd expect to see from a novice practitioner, not the master you know Ambrose to be. It barely even stings.

It would seem that, in addition to massively increasing all your physical and mental parameters, Maximum Power also grants you a measure of magic resistance.

You're still wondering at this when Ambrose's third spell - a cantrip-level ray of positive energy, which wouldn't have hurt you regardless - strikes your aura.

Over the next minute, Ambrose subjects you to a barrage of spells from every school of magic, starting at the cantrip level and then steadily working up. Although your aura doesn't withstand them all - a function of Ambrose's sheer skill at spellweaving, rather than the raw power of the low-tier magic he's using - it does successfully interfere with any spell you know to be subject to magic resistance.

Gained Knowledge of Power E (Plus)

Even so, when the wizard calls up a fist-sized mass of orange-red flame, you immediately call a halt to the testing.

Your scientific curiosity is not so great that you're willing to stand there and let someone chuck Fireballs at you.

"Spoilsport," Briar teases.

"What she said," Ambrose agrees, even as he snuffs the flame.

Only then do you power down.

"Still," the wizard goes on, "I'd say that was a fairly instructive digression, wouldn't you?"

You would tend to agree.

And not only did you learn that Maximum Power has a facet you hadn't really considered before, you also confirmed that you can safely use it for a solid minute with no effect on Briar.

There's one more aspect of your Power you'd like to have a look at, while you're here in the wizard's domain, and that's the creation of new applications for the golden energy.

When you mention this, Ambrose once again looks interested, and gestures for you to go ahead.

Of all the ideas that came to mind earlier regarding potential Power techniques, the one that you home in on now is the fusion of mana with your Ki Armor - or perhaps, ki with your Mage Armor?

That distinction proves to be significant, as, despite the similarity in names, the ki technique and the spell have decidely different effects.

Ki Armor works by focusing your vital energy through your flesh and bone, reinforcing the body against all manner of direct physical harm. Mage Armor, on the other hand, creates a force-field around the body, preventing those same attacks from hitting you in the first place.

Really, Ki Armor has far more in common with certain spells of the Augmentation School than it does with Mage Armor - and as such, it's those spells that you refer to when you activate the ki technique, while simultaneously trying to infuse it with mana.

The result is a sudden sensation of heat, as if the blood in your veins had suddenly warmed up. It's not intense enough to be painful, but the feeling is distinctly uncomfortable.

The way your skin starts glowing with strange lines and curves is kind of neat, though.

All other side-effects aside, you can feel that same sort of tension in your flesh that Ki Armor creates, and when you strike your own arm, there's a clear level of enhanced resistance.

You'll call it a tentative success.

Gained Power Armor F

You're not sure if you're going to be using this technique against Altria, though. At least not YET.

Ambrose's reaction to your scratch-development of this newest technique is a muttered, "Interesting," with a side order of beard-stroking thoughtfulness.

The joy of magical research aside, you've been at this for about twenty minutes now, and the wizard still has things to do today.

Speaking of which, you inquire if he'd mind you joining him to review the contents of the Recording Crystal later - or at least getting you a copy of said information, to be perused at your convenience.

Ambrose has no issue with the former, but says he would have to charge you something for the latter, if only to cover the cost of another of those crystals - which he notes isn't trivial, and suspects is a little outside your financial means at the moment.

Unless, of course, you'd be willing to owe him ANOTHER favor...?

Before you leave the summoning chamber, you check your reserves. The extended use of Maximum Power ate more of your mana and ki than did testing all of those other Power techniques, but not so much that you think you need to imbibe more than one of your Spring Dew potions. Throw in about four hours of recovery time between now and your match with Altria, and your mana will be back to full capacity.

Your ki won't be, but you'd still have more of it in the tank than you would mana.

---

You already owe Ambrose one outstanding favor, and you see no need to add another to your tab at this time.

Besides, the opportunity to bounce observations and ideas off of a practitioner OTHER than Briar while watching the footage will more than make up for not getting a recording that you can review again at your leisure.

You're fine with conserving your consumable resources.

Taking out one dose of Gen's Spring Dew, you uncork it with a *POP,* jauntily salute Ambrose with the bottle, and then tip it back.

*GLUG*
*GLUG*
*GLUG*

Consumed Spring Dew
Gained Empty Clay Bottle

You exhale, feeling the spreading tingle as the potion enters your system and begins to go to work. Then, pocketing the empty bottle, you thank Ambrose for his generous aid, bid him a good morning, and make your way out of his extended workshop.

Back in the manor proper, you go looking for your hosts, navigating on a mix of your own, still-limited familiarity with the great house, your sense of exotic energies - in particular, Altria's distinctive dragon-touched life-force - and some assistance from Briar.

You eventually find Altria and the boys back in the studio where you held the mini-tournament the other day, all three of them with practice blades in hand as they perform a practice routine, repeating the same strike time after time after time. Lucia is present and leading the exercise with a wooden sword of her own - and here you half expected her to find her training with that oversized battle-blade.

No one else who was at the breakfast table with you is present, and you pause in the doorway for a moment before knocking.

"Ah, Alex," Lucia says, looking over. "I trust that everything went well with Ambrose?"

"It did, thank you," you reply, while studying the other kids.

"So you're not going to turn into an elf or something?" Kenneth asks.

"Not any more of one than I already am," you reply dryly.

He snaps his fingers. "Drat."

"I'm not sure you would have looked well in green, anyway," Lucia says.

...no. No, you wouldn't.

"So," you say, while repressing the mental image of yourself wearing Link's traditional outfit, "am I interrupting anything?"

"No, I just thought that some extra practice might be a good idea, to make up for the fact that we've all been slacking somewhat over the last few days. Not without reason," Lucia admits, "but even so." She shrugs. "I would ask if you were interested in joining us, but I believe my decision may have inspired your own teacher; he was making noises about finding you for a run around the grounds when last we saw him."

Ah.

"I should probably go find him, then," you admit.

The others nod, clearly understanding what it is to have a master looking for you in that particular way, and you excuse yourself once again.

It takes a few minutes for you to track down Lu-sensei, or vice-versa, after which he ushers you outside for the aforementioned run, followed by a few rounds of katas for a cooldown, then a bit of sparring without the use of ki or mana, and then another cooldown.

Even if you don't spend this time pushing your supernatural abilities, it's good practice all the same. In particular, it gives you a chance to reacquaint yourself with what it's like to fight on grass, rather than the indoor floors where much of your training and combat experience has taken place.

That's going to be important, seeing as how you and Altria agreed to have your upcoming match outside. Neither of you were entirely confident in your ability to fight at your full strength indoors without breaking stuff - like the windows, the floor, and perhaps a few walls.

At least out here, the damage will be limited to dirt and grass.

In and around your physical exertions, Lu-sensei quizzes you on your "new look," how it relates to the Familiar Ritual, and what, if anything, you're planning to do to hide it back on the Hellmouth. Your explanation is fairly thorough, covering the cause of your pointy-eared appearance, the fact that further changes are unlikely in the extreme, and what it MEANS, in the Hyrulean scope of things. You also mention your decision not to hide your altered appearance.

Lu-sensei takes it all in, and quietly voices his approval of your decision not to act as though you were ashamed of your altered features, or what led to you acquiring them.

"That said, I have to ask what you plan on telling your parents.

---

The truth, of course.

You literally just got through telling your teacher that you weren't going to act like you were ashamed of your altered appearance, or the means by which you obtained it. Add that to your tendency to be honest with people in general, and really, there's no other option BUT telling your parents the truth.

Although the idea of opening up with a Vulcan joke DOES have some appeal...

"Can you perform the salute?" Lu-sensei deadpans, one eyebrow quirking in a Spock-like manner.

You can, and demonstrate it.

"Good."

With your impromptu morning training over, and your teacher's concerns about the side-effects of the Familiar Binding Ritual addressed and appeased, you take the time to perform a minor ritual that cleanses you and your clothes of the perspiration, grass-stains, and dirt accumulated during this outdoor exercise. Then you go ahead and offer to same service to Lu-sensei, who accepts, admitting that this is one of the really convenient elements of having a sorcerer for a student.

That done, you head back to the house. Your master has opted to stay outside, having found a nice little spot atop a small hill, with a young tree to provide shade and a nice view of the property, including the lake.

Sensing that Lu-sensei is in the mood for a little privacy, you leave him to it.

As you walk, Briar pipes up, asking you if you've seen gleam or glitter of any of the little fairies that mobbed you on your arrival a few days ago.

You have to admit that you haven't, and now that you stop and think about that fact, you're a little worried by it.

Like the small children they so resemble in manner and appearance, fairies who go unseen and unheard for anything like this long are either in trouble, getting into trouble, or plotting something.

"They would have gone to ground when the dark mojo started flying yesterday," Briar notes. "Especially given all the bats that were flying around. I suppose they COULD still be hiding, but the scary part's been over for a while, so unless some of them got hurt or had a longer attention span than I expected, they should have gotten over that by now."

Your companion is visibly - well, audibly, really - concerned by that, and you offer to go looking for the fairies with her.

Briar thanks you, but suggests holding off on that for the moment.

"If they really are still hiding, it'll take more time to find them than you can afford just now," she says. "Plus, there's a good chance that they'll turn up when you and Altria start going at it. If they haven't popped up to 'oooh' and 'ahhh' over the lightshow, THEN I'll start worrying."

That sounds reasonable.

When you re-enter the Drake house, you find that it's a little after eleven. You end up passing the remaining hour before lunch with another visit to the living room, where you switch on the television to see what's being said about the previous day's incidents.

This proves to be a whole lot of nothing.

Oh, the news stations are still covering the fallout of the "riots" and "terrorist attacks" that took place across Europe and those parts of Asia and Africa that were touched by the eclipse, but the urgency that was in the broadcasts yesterday, even after they'd been hastily edited for mundane consumption, is absent.

It's no longer breaking news, or the end of the world on television.

It is, as they say, yesterday's news.

Literally, in fact.

There's a great deal still to be said, and the newscasters are doing so. The major focus pieces are on the tragic loss of life - the confirmed death toll for Britain alone has passed one thousand - and the calls for justice - although the way some of those outcries are being made is more like "vengeance," where it isn't people just blindly lashing out at the nearest convenient scapegoat.

There's still nothing about the state of affairs in Romania.

The good news is, everything seems to be fine States-side. Or at least, nothing bad enough happened to make the international news.

Since you have the time, you perform a Ritual of Scrying to check in on your family, and find them all sound asleep in their beds, with no changes in their auras since you last saw them.

You're not about to send high-end Divination Magic sweeping through the streets of Sunnydale at night, but at the very least, this one probe tells you that the Hellmouth didn't open up and swallow the town or anything so severe.

Reassured by your findings, you dismiss the spell and go for lunch.

The second meal of the day features a full table. The Drake brothers and Mr. Pritchard are dressed more casually than you've seen them before now, and sport a few bandages here and there besides, most of which radiate the soothing aura of healing magic at work.

Naturally, conversation over the meal is almost entirely focused on your impending match with Altria, although your previous bouts - not just the one from two days ago, but your match back at the World Tournament, as well as the aborted spar at Kahlua's - get some discussion, as you, your hosts, and your fellow guests argue over who's going to win, and why.

For this conversation, at least, you have few friends at the table. Arthur Drake has every confidence in his youngest daughter's ability to beat you again, while his brother and nephew are similarly assured - or at least say they are. Lucia and Lance are both a bit more restrained in their support of Altria, having seen you make her work for her win yesterday, and Roderick seems to take his lead from his son. Anna Drake is as supportive as a sibling who's not REALLY into her little sister's hobbies can be, while her Aunt Mary seems much more interested in the prospect of getting to see your Power in action than anything else.

Altria herself gives you more credit than her family and friends, which is really only natural, as she's the only one at the table who's actually fought you while you were using Maximum Power, and thus has a better idea than anyone else - possibly even including Briar - of just what that technique involves and allows you to do.

She's still going to do her best to beat you, of course. She's just realistic enough to admit that she could lose.

Someone must have spoken to the kitchen staff, because lunch is somewhat lighter and shorter than meals at the Drakes' table have been. It takes less than half an hour to clear the table, and only another fifteen minutes or so before you're feeling ready for the match.

You trade glances with Altria, and see the same restrained enthusiasm burning in her eyes.

"Shall we?" you offer.

"We shall," she accepts.

Lucia and Lu-sensei remain behind while the rest of the soon-to-be audience excuse themselves. Your hostess leads you to a new room, not too far from the dining hall, where suits of practice gear are prepared and resting on stands, waiting for you.

As you start suiting up, Altria speaks: "Would you prefer to take things slow to start out with, or go all-out from the start?"

You consider that.

---

Part of you wants to take this match slow, with both participants starting from an unenhanced "zero" state and only raising the bar when you believe you need to, in order to match - or just slightly surpass - your opponent. It's kind of traditional for martial arts, and it's how you've approached a fair amount of your friendly spars.

That said, the whole reason you're having this fight in the first place is because you and Altria want to face each other at your mutual best. Holding back to start and gradually ramping up as the fight progresses may be traditional, but it isn't giving your best, and the longer you spend dancing around each other at low power, the less energy you'll have when you finally decide to go all-out.

You find you don't really care for that idea.

"Let's go all-out," you say.

Altria grins.

Evidently, that was the correct answer.

You finish donning your "armor," and then make your way outside, Lu-sensei to your right and Briar for once not riding on your shoulder, but flying to your left. Lucia leads the way, with Altria to her right.

Gained Armor Proficiency E

The area where the two of you will be squaring off has been set up behind the house, some distance away from anything that might be considered breakable. As it happens, the preparations are almost entirely for the convenience of the audience, including an assortment of comfortable chairs, tables, and various refreshments - possibly explaining why lunch was kept simple for everyone, not just you and Altria. Whichever members of the staff put it all together didn't even bother to mark an area of the lawn as a regulation-sized ring, they just made sure all the chairs were facing in the same direction.

The audience, incidentally, is larger than you were expecting. Ambrose's presence is no surprise, but with him are a dozen men whose decent-quality suits don't hide their generally muscular builds. You recognize a couple of faces from the security personnel you've seen. With them are an older, rather less obviously built gentleman and a stern-looking woman, neither of them familiar to you, and both with first aid kits placed right next to their seats.

And then there are the half-dozen servants standing by at the tables, as well as one man who's keeping an eye on the weapons. Each of the two free-standing racks holds a single sword, one in your preferred hand-and-a-half style, and of a slightly better fit for your height and reach than the blunted steel practice blade you used against Altria the other day.

When you move to draw and inspect the blade, you find that it has a good balance, no edge to speak of, and is imbued with a Spell of Augmentation meant to mitigate physical impacts.

You recognize Ambrose's spellcraft, and you have to wonder how well it will hold up against the magic-disrupting, spell-absorbing properties of your Maximum Power technique.

Glancing over at Altria, you see that she's been provided with a similar weapon - actually, when you look closer, it's even MORE similar than you were expecting. Where she last faced you using a classic arming sword, today, she appears to have opted for a two-handed blade, proportionate to her size and with the same blunted edge and non-lethal enchantment as your weapon.

Altria notices your attention on her blade, and coughs into her fist. "It was fairly clear the other day that you had the advantage in reach and striking power. I felt that I should do something about that."

You consider that, and shrug. "Points for strategic thinking, anyway." Then you grin, spinning your sword through a one-handed flourish. "I'm still going to win, though."

Altria matches your expression. "We'll see."

The two of you proceed to take your positions, about twenty feet apart and a similar distance from the crowd. Briar wishes you luck and then gets well out of the way, heading for a tiny cushioned chair that's been set up next to Ambrose. Lu-sensei, meanwhile, has once again been asked to referee.

"Once again, for the record," your master says, echoing his statement the other day, "the terms are: one-on-one; no time limit; victory to be determined by ten-second pin, forfeiture, or referee's decision. Correct?"

Before either you or Altria can speak, Kenneth calls out from the audience: "What about magic?"

You try not to sigh as you raise your voice and reply, "The technique I'm planning to use for this ties up my mana, and prevents me from casting spells while it's in effect."

"...what, really?"

"Yes, really." Then, considering the reaction the older boy had to seeing some of your ki techniques at work during the mini-tournament, you add, "I can still perform some related techniques that might LOOK like spells, but they're not."

"Oh, now I REALLY want to see this," Mary Drake murmurs.

Lu-sensei confirms the terms, and lifts his hand as you and Altria raise your weapons in salute.

You hear the words, "Glasses on," coming from Ambrose in a fairly insistent tone, followed by some grumbling, not all of it Kenneth's. When you notice Altria's nearest eye cutting towards the audience, you allow yourself to glance in that direction as well.

...

At the sight of all twenty-odd human members of the crowd donning Eighties-style plastic sunglasses, each in a different shade of neon and all bearing Ambrose's magical signature, you have to force yourself not to stare, and instead turn back to face Altria, who muttered her usual wizard-induced imprecation before putting his antics out of her mind and focusing on the imminent fight.

DRAGON-SOULED KNIGHT-IN-TRAINING: ALTRIA DRAKE

As your master's hand drops to begin the match, you mentally reach out.

Mana in one hand.
Here we go.
Ki in the other.
This is gonna be good!
Across from you, Altria's aura FLARES.
Using magic to punch people... I could cry.
Bring them together.
Quit griping, Nayru.
With a deep bellow of challenge from the Boar, your Power EXPLODES.
Give her Hell, kid!
Gained Maximum Power C

Opposite you, the Dragon roars like thunder as its tiny vessel charges.

---

Blades of grass, previously driven flat in a circle around you by the force of your expressed aura, are now blown away. Chunks of the earth beneath your feet are ripped up and sent flying your wake, and the Raging Boar bellows in glee as you launch yourself forward to meet Altria's charge with one of your own.

Under normal circumstances, it takes you a few strides to overcome the inertia of your larger-than-average body and hit your top speed. Using Maximum Power GREATLY reduces the space and time you require for that, but there's still a delay between "full stop" and "full speed ahead" - even if it is so brief that you doubt anyone here other than Lu-sensei, the three senior mage-knights, and Altria herself would be able to see it, the lag is there.

On the other hand, even if you're still accelerating, your technique puts a LOT of momentum behind you, on top of your existing advantage in pure mass. Maybe you won't hit Altria with the force of a runaway freight train, but a freight train that's obeying the speed limits still makes for a pretty devastating impact on whatever gets in its way.

The Boar's hooves tear into the turf, trampling all before it and forcing a path into existence.

Just by dint of being a smaller-than-average person in general, Altria is well aware of that sort of thing, and moreover, she's had to face off with your supernaturally-enhanced strength and speed on numerous occasions. That's why, magical rocket thrusters or no, she never intended for her charge to meet you head-on; instead, she was angling to your left - her right - half-slashing and half-dragging her sword along at about the level of your waist.

You adjust your own weapon to intercept-

The Boar dips its head and then snaps it back around, tusks leading to gore and snare the enemy.

-there is a sudden SHOCK of impact and a terrible scream of metal on metal-

The Dragon wheels in mid-air, briefly turning on one side so that an armored claw can lash out to deflect the blow.

-and then, with a grunt of effort, you wrench your arms and blade back the way they came, pushing to overcome the massive force on the other end-

The Dragon shrieks in surprise as the Boar's strength forces back its defensive strike, allowing a bristly shoulder to drive claw and limb alike into the scaled belly, shoving the great red monster off-course!

-and sending Altria FLYING away from you.

She's gone all of maybe five feet when her aura flares anew, rocket-plumes firing in a complex pattern-

The Dragon's wings beat frantically as it scrambles to recover!

-which spins her about to face you, even as it turns her tumbling arc into a controlled touchdown-

The Dragon hovers, regarding its foe more cautiously.

-only for that "landing" to be interrupted as you close the distance and deliver the first proper strike of the match. It's a rising swing that comes up BENEATH your opponent, where she has no guard-

The Boar charges anew, tusks thrusting to pierce the enemy's gut!

-but with another burst of mana, Altria spins and gets her sword in the way of the blow-

The Dragon catches the blow!

-before she goes flying even HIGHER into the air, riding the force of your strike and the blaze of her own power until she's reached a height of almost fifteen feet. For a single instant that seems to stretch out into many, Altria hangs there, emerald eyes backlit by the reddish-gold of her draconic mana as they meet your own gaze, burning gold with Power.

The Dragon gazes down upon its foe, regal and dominating.

The Boar stamps one hoof, brutal and defiant.

Then there is another surge of mana, as Altria - evidently not content with merely FALLING back to Earth - propels herself downwards-

Roaring, the Dragon dives!

-yelling a challenge as she raises her sword above her head with both hands, a strike that will channel all the force her magically-empowered body can muster, as well as the momentum of her fall, into a massive power blow.

It's a blatantly obvious move, and you could easily side-step it. And yet, part of you - a big, bristly, bellowing part - wants to stand your ground, raise your weapon, and meet the challenge head-on.

---

With an effort of will, you set aside the surging impulse to raise your blade and meet Altria's descending attack strength against strength, force against force, and power against Power.

There's no doubt in your mind it would be an awesome and very satisfying spectacle, but this isn't an exhibition match. Friendly though it is, this is a serious spar; if you're going to fight Altria at your best, that includes using the best tactics you can think of.

And so it is that you take two steps back and turn slightly, moving yourself out of Altria's direct line of attack-

With a groan of reluctance and disappointment, the Boar backs away from the descending Dragon.

-Power building within you as you move.

The Boar hunkers down, legs bent beneath it.

In response to your evasive move, Altria's eyes widen, and her aura flares anew-

The Dragon shrieks and tries to bank away!

-but even as her mana-jets fire, you finish forcing the accumulated Power within you down into an unstable knot-

The Boar bellows anew and flings itself forward at the evading Dragon!

-too much energy contained in too small a space, the gleaming golden motes unable to coexist.

The Power reacts, and erupts like a second sunrise.

Gained Power Burst E

Boar and Dragon alike disappear in the blast wave, which tears up the ground and raises a cloud of dust and smoke.

Caught off-guard by the unexpected - and in hindsight, kind of obvious - side-effect of using your explosive technique on ground that's already demonstrated a certain lack of stability in the face of unleashed Power, your left hand reflexively releases its grip on your sword and comes up to shield your face.

However, even as you press your lips together, hold your breath, and squint to avoid inhaling any of the kicked-up debris, or getting it in your eyes, the precautions prove unneeded.

After all, the Power Burst was directed outwards from you, and everything it cast into the air went the same way. On top of that, the swirling aura of your manifested Power is acting like your own pocket anti-cyclone, blowing back what of the blown-up matter the prevailing winds send your way.

The inadvertant smokescreen isn't so thick that you can't see through it, and you spot Altria rolling away along the grass, trailing smoke and clods of torn-up dirt. She's not out of control, but neither is she entirely IN control.

At a guess, gravity and her built-up momentum worked against her enough that you were able to catch her with the edge of that Burst, even as she managed to maneuver ahead of the worst of it. In doing so, however, she couldn't avoid the rough landing you're looking at.

Despite this, as Altria gets her feet under her and starts skidding to a stop, literally on her hands and knees, you see that she's grinning.

She still has her sword, too, though like yourself, she's only holding it with one hand at the moment.

Tearing at the ground with its claws, the grounded Dragon glares balefully across the battlefield at the Boar.

You can see a few options at this point.

Launching a charge of your own is one. With the time Altria would need to recover her stance and fix her grip on her weapon, the risk to you would be limited, and your odds of getting in a clear hit improved. Add in your clear advantages of size and strength, as well as your somewhat closer levels of speed and reach, and you think you'd have a very good chance of knocking Altria down, disarming her, or just giving her a good solid smack.

The Boar shakes itself, its spiky fur hissing as it expresses its interest in THAT idea.

Then again, you DID just choose not to use Boar-approved tactics - not to mention, got through seeing how a charge by your opponent ended up going less-than-ideally for her. A slower, more measured advance might be the ticket, though it would give Altria the time to find her footing, and turn this into a more proper contest of swordsmanship - where she would have an edge.

A third option that comes to mind is fighting at range, but you have your doubts as to how effective your Power Ball would be. It takes a few seconds to charge up, and even once released, it's not so fast or accurate that you think Altria would have trouble dodging it.

And of course, you could always just stay put and wait for Altria to make the next move. You're not at all keen on surrendering the initiative, though. Altria can do quite a bit of damage if she's given a chance to build up steam.

---

You take a step forward, and as you do so, you try to will Power to your feet to stabilize the bare, blast-loosened earth beneath you. The Drakes' well-maintained yard wasn't exactly disintegrating under your feet in the opening instants of the fight; it was more like you were wearing cleats, or just "stepping" with enough force to tear up divots of the terrain as you ran about.

You've seen that sort of thing happen in normal athletics, just not as FREQUENTLY as it was happening here.

But that was before you exploded and left yourself standing at the center of a patch of bare, loose earth. You could use the reassurance of some supernaturally-enhanced footing just now, and if you use your Ki Step and the Spell of Air Walking as a basis-

A plume of dirt rises as the Boar's leading hoof comes down with explosive force.

-okay, THAT'S not what you had in mind.

There really isn't time for you to go back over the attempt and find out what went wrong, so instead, you take another, slightly faster step, trusting your natural and now-enhanced agility and footwork to keep you upright and moving.

The battered soil grits and shifts beneath you, but you don't slip, and a third step has carried you out of the blasted circle entirely. Now that you're back on (more) solid ground, you immediately begin moving faster, accelerating into a proper run.

The Raging Boar roars and CHARGES!

Altria, meanwhile, has just pushed herself upright, using only the enhanced strength of her free hand instead of a blast of mana-

The Dragon rises to its feet, spreading its wings half for balance, and half in challenge.

-which makes sense, since as close as she was to the ground, one of those red-gold jets of energy going off would have kicked up its own plume of dirt and smoke, and right in her face, at that.

Even as Altria fixes her footing and her grip on her sword, you're raising your own weapon. The idea of using a downward stroke to smash Altria into the ground, rather than back into the air, is tempting, but a straight overhand power blow like the one she used in mid-air is out of the question. If YOU could read a move like that, there's no chance Altria would mistake it for anything else, and she's demonstrated time and again in your matches that she's more than fast enough to dodge something so obvious, at least when it covers such a comparatively-small area.

Instead, you raise your sword at an angle, holding it with the blade rising up past your left shoulder-

The Boar's tusks gleam in the sun!

-and then, just as you close to striking range, you whip the weapon over to your right side, before striking out, down, and across.

*CLANG!*

Altria intercepts the sweeping blow, the force of which drags her to your left and sends her whirling about-

The Dragon wheels!

-which a flare of mana turns into a complete spin, that she comes out of with her sword leading-

Its tail lashes out!

-and coming straight at you!

*CLANG!*

Your defense is up to the task of intercepting the strike, but Altria's maneuver has turned some of your own strength back against you, and fast enough that your guard was not as braced as it could be. Even as you bend your arms and legs to absorb and shed the force of the blow, the blow rattles you, and your sword is knocked back the way you'd hastily dragged it to block Altria's strike.

The Boar's squinting eyes bug out in shock as the tip of the Dragon's tail whips across its cheek, hard enough to sting, though not enough to draw blood.

Altria draws back her sword, readying a thrust-

The Dragon's claws lash out!

-but you turn at the waist, sucking in your stomach to avoid the blow, and buying yourself just enough time to restore your guard. Your sword swings back to your right-

The Boar shifts, the bristles along its flank deflecting the Dragon's talons before they can reach tender flesh.

-pushing Altria's weapon away from your side and buying back enough room to breathe normally.

Then, arms driven by another surge of mana, she brings her sword up hilt-first, in a diagonally-rising hammer-blow aimed at your head.

The Dragon's maw closes in!

---

Your arms shift, bringing your sword up to block the butt of Altria's sword before she can smash it into your jaw - which is, thanks to the difference in your respective heights, about the only part of your head she can reach without overextending herself. Out of a mix of spiritually-inherited habit and what basic elements of swordsmanship Lu-sensei has trained into you, you try to get the crossguard of your weapon in the path of the strike, while grasping the back of the blade with your left hand-

The Boar's tusks flash!

*CLANG!*

The Dragon's snaking maw is deflected!

-and the improved leverage, plus your superior strength, is more than sufficient to stop Altria's attack before she can raise her weapon past the level of your shoulder. For a moment, your weapons hang there, locked together-

Tusks and fangs snarl against one another!

-and then you slide your weapon forward slightly, hooking it over the pommel of Altria's sword before dragging it down. This yanks the blonde forward and off-balance, and in the instant where she struggles to steady herself-

The Dragon claws at the ground, wings and tail flaring out in a hasty gambit for equilibrium.

-you bring your left foot forward, stomping down on and briefly trapping Altria's left-

The Boar presses forward!

-while in the same movement, you pivot your weapon up, push-pulling the blade up towards Altria's jaw in a near-reversal of the attack she tried to use against you-

Tusks flash in the golden light!

*WHAM!*

The Dragon's head reels to one side!

-and you CONNECT, striking Altria across the jaw. The headgear you're both wearing is padded there for just such an occasion, and the body-hardening effects of her Mana Burst technique would have soaked more of the force, but you didn't hold back with that shot - at least, not any more than you absolutely had to, to keep Altria where she is.

Bouncing her around like a gleaming ping-pong ball is kind of awesome to watch, but it lets her bleed off a lot of the force of your hits, to say nothing of the space it gives her to move and counter.

Even as her head is rocked by your blow, the rest of Altria's body is reacting as training and instinct tell it, bringing her sword forward again-

The Dragon's tail whips forth once more!

*SMACK*

-and at what's basically point-blank range, you can't stop the pommel from hitting you into the side. By the same token, however, Altria didn't have the room to get the strike up to speed, nor did she have her feet properly under her to support the strike.

You also didn't sense an additional flare of mana, suggesting that Altria can't use that booster-rocket trick when she's stunned - or at least, not one hundred percent reliably.

Further detracting from the limited amount of force behind Altria's reflexive strike is your gear, which is nicely padded over the ribs. On top of that, you have the defensive elements of Maximum Power, which you have no qualms in giving the edge over Altria's Mana Burst when it comes to soaking blunt-force trauma - among other things.

The blow still stings a bit, but not enough to genuinely hurt, much less distract you from your next move.

---

You're tempted to grab Altria so that she can't simply back up - or blast away - into a more favorable range, but you haven't forgotten how well she handled herself in a grapple the other day. Even with the clear strength advantage you have in THIS bout, that particular lesson was learned well enough that you're a bit leery of testing your luck again.

Besides, it would be fractionally slower than the move you had in mind. And against an enemy as quick, as resilient, and as skilled as Altria, those fractions count.

You pull back with your left hand and push forward and up with your right, shifting the blade of your sword away from the right side of Altria's head-

The Boar's head slams sideways!

-and bringing the hilt up into her left!

*WHAM!*

The Dragon staggers!

Altria saw or sensed the attack coming, and tried to pull her head out of the line of fire, but her reaction was too slow - that first shot to the head taking its toll, no doubt. She managed to avoid taking the second blow clean across the side of the head, but the guard of your borrowed blade still hammers her chin and rocks her to the left.

NOW your left hand lets go of your sword-blade and grabs Altria, fingers snaking around her right arm.

And as you do so, you gather and compress your Power once again.

That first Power Burst worked well enough, so why not try for another, now that you have Altria at point-blank range and in a very bad position to attempt to evade?

Sensing the danger, Altria's left hand comes up to seize your fingers, scrabbling against the back of the fingerless gauntlets that were part of your protective gear, and squeezing hard in an attempt to break your grip. In the same instant, you can sense her mana gathering, taking on that by-now-familiar presence of flaring jets of raw energy.

Dazed, the Dragon struggles against the Boar's crushing advanced!

And yet, even as Altria tries to get away from what's coming, there's a sluggishness to her movements - mystical as well as physical - which tells you that two high-powered hits to the head in quick succession were more than she was entirely prepared to deal with.

It would seem that not even a Dragon has a head like a Boar.

And your Power just reached critical mass.

The Boar throws back its shaggy head and bellows in triumph, and the world vanishes in a flare of gold.

You're not surprised when you lose your grip on Altria, the point-blank Power Burst yanking her out from between your fingers.

When the light clears and the dust kicked up by your newest forced-renovation to the Drakes' backyard has cleared a bit, you can see Altria laying on her back a few feet away. She's still got a grip on her sword, but the aura of her Mana Burst has winked out, her padded gear has picked up a LOT of scuff marks and smears of dirt in the last couple of seconds, and while she's trying to roll forward - or maybe onto her side, the twitching makes it hard to say - there's a slowness to her movements that speaks of fatigue, pain, or both.

Yeah, she definitely felt that one.

To be fair to Altria, if an Alex-sized bomb had gone off in YOUR face, you wouldn't exactly look your Sunday best, either.

---

The idea of giving Altria a moment to recover her strength and then asking her if she feels she's able to continue the match occurs to you, and is promptly dismissed.

In your experience, the blonde girl has demonstrated a strong competitive streak, with a particular reluctance to admit defeat. You wouldn't say that she's ever been reckless about it - you've never seen Altria pursue victory to the point of ignoring her own well-being, or otherwise getting herself into serious trouble - but you're honest enough to admit that your own judgment in these matters is more than a little suspect.

After all, you don't like to lose, either.

And giving Altria time to catch a second wind would be courting the possibility of a loss, or at least needlessly delaying an imminent victory.

And so it is that you hurry towards Altria, in a blink of gold-

The Boar races towards its fallen opponent with a clatter of crushing hooves.

-come to a halt and all but fall atop her-

The Dragon twitches and attempts to roll out of the path of its foe, but is caught beneath the Boar's final charge!

-reaching out to seize her right arm with your left hand and pin it to the earth, along with the sword it still holds. Altria's aura flashes, and she twists under you, trying to get leverage, but you've got her legs pinned under yours, and your blunted blade held across her upper body in a modified armbar.

The Dragon thrashes and roars, but under the weight of the Boar, it seems useless.

Lu-sensei's presence, which withdrew to a comfortable distance in the opening seconds of the match, now draws closer. In the silence of your own mind, you count off the seconds, in counterpoint to your teacher's open utterances.

At a count of three, Altria goes still, and her aura, begins to intensify.

Refusing to surrender without a fight, the Dragon's chest and throat begin to glow!

You brace yourself, bear down, and channel additional Power to your front, readying yourself for what you're certain will be a massive jet-blast-

Gained Power Armor F (Plus) (Plus)

-and sure enough, a moment later, red-and-gold mana EXPLODES from Altria-

The Dragon ROARS, breathing flame!

-not only rattling you physically, but subjecting you to a distinct increase in temperature and a surge of magical energy. The flare of mana isn't on the level of a true dragon's breath, not even that of a wyrmling fresh from the egg, and you doubt that it would manage to ignite a sheet of paper or dry kindling, much less your own armor-clad and Power-protected body.

Gained Armor Proficiency E (Plus)

Whatever its shortcomings when compared to dragonfire, Altria's take on your own Power Burst deals more "damage" to you than anything else she's done in the entire fight - but it doesn't dislodge you, or break Lu-sensei's count, and that's the critical point.

"Six! Seven!"

Altria lays her head back against the turf, sighing. "I yield."

"Ei-waaaaiiiit a minute," Lu-sensei says. "What was that?"

"I yield," Altria repeats calmly.

Your teacher stands. "Winner, by forfeit! Alexander!"

"The HELL?"

"Kenneth!"

The Boar throws back its head and bellows in triumph!
That'll do, Boar. That'll do.
While Mary Drake is sorting out her offspring, you dismiss your Power, get off of Altria, straighten up, and offer a hand.
You did NOT just go there.
She accepts it, and you help her to her she rises, Altria looks at the blasted area beneath the two of you, and then across the lawn to the other small craters that resulted from your match.

---

You join Altria in studying the damaged yard for a moment, and then say, "It's a good thing we did this outside, huh?"

"Oh, yes," she fervently agrees. "Mother would have grounded us for life, otherwise."

For a moment, you consider pointing out that Lucia wouldn't be able to ground you.

Then you consider the woman in question, as well as Lu-sensei's presence.

...

Yeah, you're going to let that particular sleeping dragon lie.

"On the positive side," you continue, holding up your practice blade, "we didn't even bend the swords! That's got to count for something, right?"

Altria blinks at your weapon, and then looks down at her own. Seeing it intact, and with nothing worse than some dirt clinging to the hilt where it hit and scraped against the ground, seems to honestly surprise her.

She's about to speak-

!

-when suddenly, FAIRIES.

"That was AWESOME!"

"They killed the grass!"

"Can you do that again?"

"Grass-killers!"

"Are you a god?"

"Enemies of plants!"

"Why did you beat up Altria, you big, mean, pig person?"

"Defilers of dirt!"

"I wanna see the dragon again!"

"Hey, is it just me, or does he smell nicer?"

Well, the good news is, now that the eclipse is over, all the little ones seem to be fine. At the very least, the cloud of little glowing people that's surrounded you and Altria looks about as large and as dense as the one that ambushed you on your first day here.

The less good news is that you're surrounded by fairies who clearly find you INTERESTING.

After escaping the fairies, you go through the usual round of post-battle socializing with your extended audience. There are plenty of congratulations, although virtually all of them come in company with some degree of disbelief, envy, and wary respect. The latter mostly comes from the security guards, who are clearly reconsidering whatever preconceptions they had about your abilities, and how much of a threat to the estate and its residents you could potentially be.

Lucia and Ambrose are among the few whose lack of surprise at your victory is total. Altria doesn't seem surprised, either, more disappointed in herself and resolute to do better the next time.

Kenneth just kind of stares at the two of you, and the holes you left in the yard, and then shuts his mouth.

You're okay with this.

Following a few minutes of this, you return your blunted sword to the rack and make your exit, heading back inside to change out of the borrowed armor and then go have a shower. One drawback to wearing protective gear is that it's hot, especially when you're running around and fighting.

You wouldn't be sweating anywhere NEAR as much as you are if you'd fought Altria in just your streetclothes. Then again, without the armor, that jab to the chest she got in might have actually hurt - and that final blast of mana definitely would have.

Trade-offs.

Once you've washed and changed into a fresh set of clothes, you and Briar head back to Ambrose's lab, to see if the wizard is ready to watch the contents of the Recording Crystal.

At the door that opens into the central corridor joining Ambrose's main workshop, storage closet, summoning chamber, and other, as-yet unseen rooms, you're greeted by a nondescript man wearing a red uniform jacket with big brass buttons down the front and long tails in the back, black pants, and a red cap. He looks like a bellhop pulled from some fancy hotel, or maybe an usher from an old-fashioned movie theatre, and as you approach, a magical aura begins to tingle against your senses.

It feels like Illusion Magic, and as the bellhop-doorman greets you with a smile, you wonder if you should try to see through the magic, or just leave it be.

Either way, you're completely certain that Ambrose is amusing himself at your expense.

---

Exercising patience, you take the time to address the fairies, answer their questions, and soothe any ruffled wings as best you can.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show. No, we're not going to do it again during this visit."

"Awww..."

"No, I'm not a god."

As an aside, you wonder how many times you're going to have to answer that question before it sticks.

"I didn't beat up Altria, we agreed to have a fight, because we both enjoy that kind of thing, and we wanted to see which one of us would win. And if you want to see the Dragon again, you'll have to talk to her."

Several of the fairies turn to stare at Altria, their tiny expressions radiating curiosity, hope, eagerness, and a certain degree of mischief.

Altria does NOT gulp.

She's a brave one, all right.

Though the lack of expression could also be because Altria is experienced enough at dealing with fairies to know that showing fear or apprehension will only encourage their less-appealing tendencies.

You decide not to comment on your own smell, and as for the fairy who's being most vocal about the damage you did to the lawn, you decide that actions will speak louder than words, and cast that Spell of Plant Growth you learned from Briar a while back. The small craters that you and Altria created are large enough, in and of themselves, that you decide to expand the parameters of the basic spell to affect more than one "plant," just to be sure that you cover each pit in its entirety. They're spread out far enough that you can't ALSO affect all three of them with a single casting, at least not with your current grasp of the magic that deals with green and growing things, but even modified, the spell isn't especially taxing, and casting it three times is no hardship.

Gained Wood Elementalism D

The outspoken fairy falls silent as the grass begins to grow.

"...w-well, at least you know how to clean up after yourself," she finally says. Then, in a scolding tone, she adds, "But it would have been better if you hadn't made such a mess in the first place!"

"I'll keep that in mind," you say.

"See that you do! Hmph!"

"Are you done?" Briar asks the smaller fairy.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Would you like to...?"

"Love to."

You can HEAR the menacing grin Briar is directing towards her distant cousin.

"Wait, why are you looking at meEEEEK!"

The lesser fairy scrambles to avoid Briar.

"Come back here, you little brat! Talk down to MY partner, will you?!"

Aw, she's being protective. Isn't that...

"That's MY job, damn it!"

...nice.

Although you can tell that the bellhop/doorman/usher/whatever is an Illusion of some kind, you decide to play along and let Ambrose have his fun. You figure the old man's earned it for once.

"Welcome, welcome!" the human-seeming phantasm greets you. "Right this way, sir and madam."

Holding the door for you - a rather advanced application of Illusion Magic - the uniformed construct guides you down the hall, past Ambrose's summoning chamber, and to one of the rooms you haven't yet visited. Opening this door, he or it smiles and gestures for you to step inside.

You do so, slowly, more to give yourself time to take in what lies before you than for any other reason.

Ambrose, it seems, has taken the concept of a "home theatre system" and run with it. The room before you is just as large as his summoning chamber, a good fifty feet to a side, but instead of bare stone, the walls, floor, and ceiling are covered with polished wooden panels, green felt carpeting, and a single row of chairs that could have been plucked from a movie theatre - or more likely, given the fine wooden construction and plush upholstery, an opera house.

Covering most of the wall directly opposite the door is a wide projection screen, below which stands a row of speakers and accompanying electronica - VCR, CD player, dual cassette recorder, radio - as well as some devices of a more arcane nature, all shards of crystal and curling metal. Additional speakers are positioned at strategic points around the room, and the walls and much of the floor are covered by row upon row of cabinets, every shelf filled to capacity with video cassettes, audio tapes, and compact discs.

Off to the right of the door is a fully-appointed snack bar. A popcorn machine works steadily, filling the air with the sound of bursting kernels and the scent of freshly-popped puffy goodness, while next to it, hot dogs turn on a slow-moving wheel, cooking steadily under the light of a heat lamp. A dozen different brands of fizzy drinks bubble away behind the clear glass of their dispensers, while enough junk food to stock a candy store fills row upon row of transparent shelving.

Behind the counter stands Ambrose himself, humming as he fills a tall mug with something dark and bubbly. On the counter-top rests a tray, already carrying a large box of popcorn and a hot dog, the later slathered with ketchup, mustard, and relish.

Ambrose looks up. "Can I get either of you something?"

Your stomach takes this opportunity to remind you that you had a light lunch, and just got through with a round of physical activity.

---

You decide not to interfere with Briar's fun.

"Wait," one of the other fairies says. "Did she just call him her partner?"

Wait, what?

"She did!"

All the fairies, including the ones that were eyeing Altria, now turn to you. Those that are close enough or large enough for you to make out their expressions appear suddenly wary, and a little suspicious.

You do NOT flinch.

"Hey, look!" a tiny voice calls out from somewhere just above your right ear. "They've gotten pointy!"

...oh, dear.

"So THAT's why he smells nicer," the one that was wondering about your scent murmurs.

And just like that, those looks of caution change to an unsettling, delighted glee.

"You know what this means, right, girls?" the smallest of them asks, once again assuming her leadership role.

As one, the cloud of fairies nod their tiny heads, and then cry, "NEW BIG BROTHER!"

And then they swarm you, delivering dozens of tiny hugs that combine into a single sensation of affectionate warmth.

It'd be adorable, if you didn't know quite so much about fairies and their habits as you do. As it stands... well, it's still adorable, just very surprising. Fairies who accept familiar bonds tend to be a little jealous of their partners, as Briar's behavior demonstrates, and unbonded fairies usually shy away from individuals on either end of the link, as this group looked to be on the verge of doing before they noticed your ears.

Gained Faerie Lore D

You have to wonder: if these tiny fairies of grass-blade, dew-drop, and flower-petal regard your bond with Briar as a sign of kinship, what sort of reactions can you expect from the greater Fae?

It's definitely something to think about before your next excursion into Faerie.

You manage to talk the little folk out of hugging you, explaining that you have a meeting with the wizard to get to. Some of them, having expressed their feelings, are content to let you go, but the greater number want you to play with them.

The scent of fresh popcorn, warm butter, and cooking hotdogs enters your nose, bypasses your brain entirely, and goes straight to your unfulfilled stomach.

You don't even make a token refusal of Ambrose's offer, and quickly fill a tray with a bucket of popcorn, two hot dogs, a large cup of root beer, and - after some back-and-forth with the old man - a sampler of various sweets.

Briar also avails herself of Ambrose's hospitality, though she sticks to a single tiny glass of the only non-bubbling drink on offer, which Ambrose claims to be pure spring water, and a miniscule helping of something brown and almost powdery that the old man says were honey-glazed, dry-roasted peanuts, before he ground them down.

You get the feeling the wizard has had fairy guests in here before.

Although you do want to ask Ambrose if he'd be up for another round of experimentation with your Power, after this "movie review" session is over, it's hardly an urgent request. And you have all this tantalizing food, waiting to be eaten...

You can always ask about that AFTER you've watched the contents of the Recording Crystal.

Satisfied, you follow Ambrose to the row of chairs, which on close inspection, turn out to be even more fanciful than they appeared from behind. Where a modern cinema would pack the seats together and force those directly adjacent to one another to share armrests and cup-holders, these chairs are spaced far enough apart to be entirely comfortable, and lavishly convenient. Not only do they have their own armrests, each one has a fold-out table attached, providing enough room for a tray like the ones you and Ambrose each carry.

You grab a seat near the middle of the row and settle in, while Briar does the same with the scaled-down version of these luxury seats that's been placed on the unfolded right arm.

The lack of any lingering enchantment about that chair lends more evidence to the notion that Ambrose has entertained fairy guests here before.

Ambrose sets up in the seat to your right, and once you're both comfortable, takes up a remote control that had been sitting on one arm of that chair.

You ready your senses, and take a bite of one of your 'dogs.

As Ambrose enters commands, the electronics at the front of the room and the mystically-active device wired into them come to life, as does the screen overhead, and the device that is projecting onto it - you glance back over your shoulder, and see only a glossy black disc, charged with active magic, hanging on the wall above the door.

In a few seconds, you're looking at a frozen image of yourself, standing in the middle of the clearing where you performed the Familiar Binding Ritual. Thinking back and taking the angle of the image into account, you easily place this as just after you handed the Recording Crystal over to Altria, when it activated and began floating around on its own, taking images all the while.

You let Ambrose know that the first half-hour of footage will just be of you walking the grove, getting a feel for the lay of the land and the power therein, but nothing more than that. He responds by commending you on your thoroughness, and then fast-forwarding through that section.

For the next half-hour and more, you watch in real-time as your past-self goes through the process of setting up for the ritual: first, purifying the ground with Akkiko's scroll; then laying out the full-sized ritual diagram Ambrose designed for you; next, placing the reagents you spent so much time and effort on obtaining; and finally, placing your guests at their respective spots.

Ambrose doesn't have much to say about the second phase, clearly trusting in his own work, and his interest in the spell you traded for Akkiko with is mostly over how you acquired the spell, rather than what it did. He has plenty of questions about the other parts, though, inquiring after each of your reagents in turn: where and when you obtained them; what challenges you faced in the process; where you stored them in the days, weeks, and months leading up to the ritual; what theories and practices informed your placement of each element, as well as the members of your small audience; and so on.

---

How can you turn down all those hopeful little faces?

The answer is, you can't, and you don't.

"Alright," you tell the fairies. "We can play AFTER my meeting."

"Yaaaay!"

Gained King of Fairies D (Plus)

"IF," you interject, raising one hand, "you can get Briar's permission."

The cheering cloud of fairies suddenly falls silent, and turns from you to your partner, who has caught up with the fairy that was most vocally-upset about the damage you did to the lawn. Briar has made good use of her newly-acquired understanding of unarmed combat, wrestling the smaller fairy in mid-air. She's wrapped her right arm around the struggling sprite's shoulders from behind, pinning her back (and wings)-to-chest, and is now using her left hand to administer noogies.

"Nnnnoooo!" the captured fairy cries.

"Say 'Uncle!'" Briar demands.

"Never!"

"What's that? You want MORE?"

"Aaaahhhh!"

The fairies watch this in silence for a moment, before trading looks among themselves.

"Not it!" a score of voices call out at once.

"Also not it!"

"Me neither!"

"Not for all the sugar in the house!"

"COWARDS!" the tiniest fairy shouts. "There's only one of her, and a hun... no, a doz..." She stops, spends a few seconds trying to count the points of light in the cloud, and then throws up her hands in frustration. "There's lots more of us, okay? We can take her!"

"But what if Big Brother helps her, like the other day?" someone points out.

The leader makes a sound of dismay, and looks up at you. "You wouldn't, would you?" she asks in a hopeful tone.

"She IS my partner," you reply firmly. "Helping her when she's badly outnumbered is what a proper partner should do, right?"

"...that is so unfair," the leader grumbles.

"I say we make the Boss talk to her!" another fairy says.

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah!"

"That kind of thing is the Boss's job anyway!"

"WHAT?!"

"I agree!"

"Boss! Boss! Boss!"

"Boss" looks around at her ostensible subordinates, and sags in mid-air. "You guys suck."

Opting to leave fairy politics in the hands of the fairies, you head for the house.

You've got an appointment to get to.

You answer each of Ambrose's questions to the best of your ability, holding back none of the details of the common Hyrulean magical styles, or the personal style you half-inherited from Ganondorf and half-developed on your own, which blends elements of all of them.

This leads into a rather extended discussion, taking up the better part of an hour, in which Ambrose learns a great deal about your magic, and in turn, reveals details about Earthly traditions you hadn't encountered or considered.

There are limits to just how much information you can exchange in the time you have to work with, of course. A proper grounding in the basics of any magical tradition is the work of years, and the study of magic is a task that's never truly complete. The Familiar Ritual is the focus of your conversation with Ambrose, and the two of you - and Briar, who chimes in every now and then with a third-party or fairy's eye view of things - could spend DAYS discussing the ritual and its place in different traditions, without running out of things to talk about.

Still, you hit the highlights.

Gained Arcanology B

Ambrose eventually recalls that you have a recording to watch - your past-self has been stuck on Pause for twenty or thirty minutes - and you get back to reviewing the footage of the ceremony proper, pausing every so often to point out and debate specific points.

It was somewhere past one-thirty when you ventured into Ambrose's domain.

It's nearly four in the afternoon by the time the contents of the Recording Crystal have been played back in full. In that time, you asked Ambrose...

---

Your greatest concern about the Familiar Ritual is the secondary effects it's had on your person, and how the more significant races of Faerie are likely to react to you in the future because of them.

That said, if you really want to know the answer to that question, why bother asking a human wizard, when you could go straight to the source and speak with a certain Great Fairy you're on good terms with? You'd probably end up doing that anyway, regardless of what Ambrose told you, so why not save yourself the breath and just cut out the middleman, as it were?

Ambrose would likely say the same thing, only with pithy accompanying remarks.

You decide to spare yourself the annoyance.

After your review of the footage of the Familiar Ritual ends, you depart Ambrose's quarters and go looking for your hosts, teacher, and the approaching dinner.

The snacks you worked your way through over the last three hours were tasty, but you need something more filling to make up for the lightness of your lunch, the exertion of your fight with Altria, and the time that has passed since.

Dinner comes and goes without major incident. The central topic of conversation is, of course, your match with Altria - a fact that seems to silence Kenneth, although Lance proves to have a great deal to comment on and ask about.

Incidentally, Lucia thanks you for not blowing up parts of the house in your previous matches, and for "repairing" most of the damage you did to the lawn.

Once you have properly appeased the beast in your belly, you excuse yourself, letting it be known that you promised to spend some time with the little fairies.

Altria wishes you well and makes herself scarce.

Her SISTER, on the other hand, accompanies you into the early evening, asking you and Briar about fairies, humans, and how it is for the two to live together.

The falling twilight finds you using a combination of spells for shrinkage and flight, to play a game of tag with the delighted fairies. Anna Drake politely declines to join you, instead spending the time watching the fun and games, or talking with a few fairies who don't want to play, need to take a breather, or else find the girl with magic more interesting than their new Big Brother.

After some discussion over dinner, you and Lu-sensei decided to take your leave of the Drakes that evening. The time difference between this part of Wales and California means that if you leave around eight in the evening - a reasonable time for a guest to depart, if their trip home is to be a brief one - then you'll be back in Sunnydale somewhat past noon, local time. It'll make for a long day, but you can always take a nap, and make up the difference with another sleep spell later, should you happen to need it.

You're expected in Japan on Saturday, to send Lady Akemi back to her rest, and you'll want to be at the top of your game for that.

Plus, you still need to talk with your parents about the state of your ears.

Yeah. Taking an extra day is sounding better all the time.

As you make your farewells to the Drakes and the Pritchards, there's a brief discussion about what to do regarding the Memorian Map. You simply make another copy and hand it over; it ends up in Roderick Pritchard's hands, who promises to get back to you (via Altria) as soon as he's had a chance to confirm the likely location of the Outpost.

He doesn't think it'll take more than a week, two at the outside.

He also promises - after some prodding by the ladies - not to go gallivanting off in search of the ancient ruin without you.

After all, you did make a promise to the Memorian ghosts - and through them, to Mars - that you'd find the place. You really should be there to handle that.

With that handled, you and your companions are driven to the front gate, where you step off the grounds of the estate proper and make with the teleportation magic.

As you walk down the streets of Sunnydale a short time later, you find yourself looking everywhere for signs of a local response to the eclipse and the Dark Lord's resurrection. And there is some evidence of just that, though it's mostly in the atmosphere - the ambient energies of the Hellmouth are higher than you recall them being in summertime, and are closer to the intensity you felt around the end of the school year.

There's also some physical evidence that something went down in Sunnydale: the local newspaper is singing the praises of the town fire department. Lu-sensei sees the headline himself, and buys a paper to see what there is to learn.

Evidently, the firemen were roused from their beds by a "four-alarm" fire at four in the morning, just about the time Dracula's resurrection hit. It was in the downtown area, and while they got it under control eventually, three buildings were completely gutted by the flames, and more suffered damage. The article makes a point of assigning blame for the fire to a bar that was located in one of the destroyed structures, a place whose name - "Eddie's" - is entirely unfamiliar to you, but which Lu-sensei makes mention of as a popular watering hole among the local demons.

Not any longer, it would seem.

With one thing and another, you're half-expecting the assorted pedestrians to shoot you suspicious glances, do double-takes, or just walk away as quickly as they can, as soon as they notice your ears, but nothing of the sort happens.

In fact, of the twenty or thirty living souls you pass on your way back to your house, none seem to even notice your new features, despite the fact that you've done nothing to try and hide them.

This state of affairs persists right up to your own front door and beyond. It's only when Zelda tackle-hugs you to welcome you home that your mother, watching the enthusiastic greeting, notices that your ears are markedly more pointy than they were a few days ago.

She sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment before asking, "Why do you suddenly look like a Vulcan, Alex?"

"Huh?" Zelda looks up from her hug, and blinks. "Cool! Elf-earth!"

"Hyrulean," you reflexively correct both of them.

"Whatever," you mother says.

"Can I have earth like that?"

You spend the next hour talking about making sudden and unplanned changes to your appearance, and - for Zelda's benefit - why it isn't a good thing. The good news is that, after you've explained the risks you would have been courting by leaving your original, Hellmouth-tainted tie with Briar in place, your mother is willing to accept your ears - and the subtler change to your eyes - as the FAR lesser evil.

It helps that the color-shift in your eyes is only noticeable up-close, while your new ears are likely to be overlooked by the casual observer.

The bevy of improvements to your sensory skills, and how they'll help you to stay safer in your all-too-hazardous home town, are also a selling point.

There isn't really any "bad" news, just a heartfelt plea from your mother to NOT do any more things that might result in further changes to your appearance. Something about you being too young for tattoos...?

Incidentally, your father also inquires after the "Spock Look" when he gets back from the garage that evening, and goes so far as to suggest a matching haircut.

On a different note, you manage to go without an afternoon nap. It's not enjoyable, and you end up calling it a day before the clock has even hit seven, not to rise again until the sun comes up the next morning. Still, being able to go thirty hours and change without sleep or magical support? Could be a useful skill to cultivate in the future.

Gained Endurance B

You spend most of the following day just doing normal stuff around the house, like playing with Zelda and Moblin, handling a few chores for your mother, and calling up Larry to see if anything ELSE of importance happened while you were out of town. The answer to that last question is "yes," as it happens; Cordelia came home on the day of the eclipse, and called around to see if you'd somehow been involved in the fire.

Your mother mentioned that, and said that, when she spoke to Cordy and assured her that you were out of the country at the time, the girl didn't sound completely convinced.

You find yourself tempted to call up the Chase manor and ask Cordelia what you did to inspire such mistrust on matters of fire. Just because you COULD burn down a few buildings with a single spell, it doesn't mean you've actually DONE it.

At least not in this lifetime.