Cordelia's proclaimed expectations prompt a nod from you.
"I was thinking of something like a magic item," you reply.
All around the room, ears perk up, and heads turn your way.
"Is that nice enough for you?" you go on.
"...depends on what it does," Cordelia replies after a moment.
Larry raises one hand. "Uh, I would just like to take this chance to say that I certainly wouldn't object to getting something like a magic item for my birthday."
"Larry," his grandmother chides.
"Well, I wouldn't," he defends himself. "Would you, Grandma?"
"That's hardly the point."
That's not a no.
In any case, if you're going to go so far as to make a magic item for Cordelia for her birthday, it would only be fair for you to maintain a similar standard of gift-giving, at least among the circle of your oldest and closest friends. Likewise for your family, although depending on what you decide to make and how much time and materials - and especially funds - it ends up requiring, you might end up making Christmas or wedding anniversary gifts out of them.
Over the coming year, you step up your training with Lu-sensei, putting particular emphasis on the fundamental Five Elements Style, your sword-skills, and your grasp of combat in general, as well as basic physical conditioning. For the most part, this involves holding back on your ki and sparring with as many of your fellow students as possible, particularly in the advanced class you've begun attending, where - aside from Cordelia - the other students aren't so completely outclassed by your physical prowess.
On the matter of the sword, you'd already realized that the standard armed aspect of the Five Elements Style wasn't suited to working with your Blessed Blade. You and your master do what you can to adapt the forms, leaning heavily on Lu-sensei's past experience in facing opponents who favored Western-style blades, but while progress is made, Lu-sensei admits that you're reaching the limits of what he can teach you with that kind of sword. If you really want to excel as a swordsman, you'll need to look into getting a specialized tutor.
Gained Agility C
Gained Combat Prowess B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Dexterity E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Endurance B (Plus)
Gained Evasion C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Grappling D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Hand-to-Hand (Five Elements Style) C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Martial Concealment E (Plus)
Gained Pain Threshold C (Plus)
Gained Physical Prowess B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Reflexes B
Gained Speed B
Gained Strength Control C (Plus)
Gained Sword Training B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Weapon Defense D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Early in your combat lessons, you think to ask Lu-sensei and Briar if it would be possible for your partner to join in, if you used magic to temporarily give her human size.
Lu Tze stares at you for a moment, and then gets this thoughtful gleam in his eyes.
Briar is tentatively interested, and so, you go ahead and work your magic. Your familiar bond with Briar shows its worth here - as if it had not already - by allowing you to cast spells on Briar that normally wouldn't be able to affect a fairy. In this case, you do some experimentation with the Spell to Enlarge A Person, trading all of its limited range for increased duration and greatly enhanced effect, but getting Briar up to human size in this manner for a practical length of time is the equivalent of a fifth-circle spell. That's too powerful a magic for you to hide the casting of.
You end up going with a modified Spell To Alter Shape instead, which works out to a third-circle effect. It does mean that Briar temporarily loses her wings, which has quite an impact on her balance, but it also means that she can join the class without anybody looking twice.
Okay, Cordelia, Larry, and Amy all do double-takes the first time "Cousin Briar" accompanies you to class, and the other kids in the beginner's class find it a little odd that a girl who appears to be in her early teens is joining a class of kids who are just nearing their tenth year.
You ALSO notice some older boys looking Briar's way outside of class, in a manner that kind of makes you want to punch them.
On a side note, Cordelia and Amy start insisting on dragging Briar out to go shopping and attend to other mysterious female affairs.
You know better than to investigate THAT too closely, but still, you can't escape the worrying feeling that you may have made a grievous strategic error here...
In tandem with your mundane martial training, your time at Lu-sensei's helps you to hone your abilities with ki. Aside from brushing up on the basics of basics in this field, you spend much of the year focused on developing your foundation in the art of Ki Projection. Your diligence here is rewarded with the ability to create tangible - though still somewhat permeable - masses of ki, which you can layer over your body and objects in your possession, or fashion into the simplest of tools. This has obvious implications, especially when it comes to the matter of throwing ki at your opponents.
You also spend time investigating Ki Generation, seeking to increase your understanding of how your body produces this esoteric energy, and how you might improve upon the process. As one might expect, there's a great deal of meditation involved. While you do make progress, Lu-sensei's analysis is that you're still a long way from knowing yourself well enough to fiddle around with your ki system even under controlled conditions, much less in the field.
Gained Battle Awareness C (Plus)
Gained Doppelganger D
Gained Ki Armor D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Control A
Gained Ki Concealment B (Plus)
Gained Ki Enhancement B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Infusion D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Prowess B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Generation D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Perception B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Projection C
Gained Ki Sense B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Sight B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Step C (Plus)
Gained Ki Strike F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Strike Flicker D
Gained Substitution F (Plus) (Plus)
Outside of the training hall, you look into acquiring books on ki theory from Gen's. Your business partner doesn't have anything of the sort in stock when you first inquire, but he would be willing to order a few likely tomes for you - that is, if you're willing to spend some of your credit income?
In keeping with your agreement with Gen, you visit his store regularly over the coming year. These visits taper off somewhat once you've finished going through his existing stock, but there's always something new for you to examine when you do show up: a few books, here; an assortment of pendants, there; and always, the odds and ends of magical reagents, provided by agents OTHER than yourself.
Your copy of Shang Tsung's book also comes in fairly early in the year.
Gained Business F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Flawless Victory
Gained Haggling D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Logistics) E
Gained $12,000 in store credit at Gen's
Is there anything you'd like to buy or order from Gen?
When your magic isn't tied up going over Gen's wares or calling up strange and wondrous creatures to make shelf-stocking deals with, you spend a good portion of the year training.
Given your discovery last year of your ability to channel the residual essence of the Triforce, you spend as much time as you can squeeze into your busy schedule experimenting with your Power techniques. The sheer potency of the golden power and its impact on other supernatural energies forces you to conduct this training well outside of Sunnydale, for it would be all-too likely to collapse the Mirror Hideaway where you normally train your mystical powers, or burn through the wards Ambrose placed around your house. You also make a point of raising a Private Sanctum before you train, to avoid drawing attention.
The first time you do this, you are very careful to test the interaction between your Power and the concealing spell, and it is a good thing that you do so, because you discover that the unleashed golden energy burns through the grey fog of the Divination-defeating ward much as it would any other spell. The good news is, if you limit the exposure of any one part of the Sanctum to the seething Power, it can repair itself.
Your first couple of training outings are a bit less productive than you might have hoped, as you keep having to pause to avoid burning away your cover - and once or twice, to re-cast the spell. By the end of your third trip, however, you've found a good rhythm, and start making real progress.
It is, however, slow progress. Although Lu-sensei accompanies you on the first of your excursions and does his best to aid your investigation into what Power is and how it does what it does, he confesses himself to be at a loss. For all that it incorporates ki, Power is considerably more than that, and your martial arts master simply does not have the necessary grounding in the magical or spiritual arts to contribute any additional insights into the golden power, beyond what he's already teaching you about ki.
Gained Knowledge of Power E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Maximum Power C (Plus)
Gained Power Prowess E (Plus)
When it comes to the matter of your conventional magical training - if there is such a thing - your efforts this year are spent primarily upon fundamentals, as you choose to hone not only your basic magical prowess, but also your mastery of the many-faceted School of Elementalism.
Speaking of basics, you take the time to try and convince your mother to start studying magic herself. It takes a couple of months to bring her around to the idea, and you suspect that without clear and present examples of the benefits trained magical ability can bring, she wouldn't have gone for it at all. Even then, her progress in the art is quite a bit slower than yours, or even Amy's.
It doesn't exactly help that your mother has two kids to mind and her shift work at the hospital taking up more time. If it weren't for you using your magic to make the household chores a fairly trivial matter - thank you, O Unseen Servant - Jessica might not have made any progress at all.
Your own training continues at its usual pace, positively breakneck compared to your mother's advancement, yet you can't escape the feeling that you are simply going through the motions, killing time as you wait for your resemblance to a son of the Gerudo Tribe to fade, like Navi promised it would months earlier.
Gained Elementalism B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Magical Prowess B (Plus)
One day, half a year on from your purification at the hands of the Great Fairy, you and Briar both agree that your Gerudo features have faded far enough to proceed with the summoning rituals you have been planning. Entering your Mirror Hideaway, you lay out the summoning circle with all due ceremony, interweaving the chanting of magical formulas with prayers to the Golden Goddesses - for this is not to be a Spell of Planar Binding, but a call for an Ally, one of the servants of the shining sisters.
Pouring as much mana as you can gather into the circle, you state your desired terms: you seek one whose skill in the magical arts exceeds your own; you seek one willing to take you on as a student; and - in light of the terms of the Curse of Demise, which you hope and quite literally pray not to trigger here - you seek one who has neither the blood of Hylia, nor the soul of the Hero.
Tricky... any suggestions, Nayru?
As you conclude your ritual, there is a flare of golden light.
Give me a minute to... hey, wait!
Which is suddenly overtaken by an eruption of dark smoke.
For the love of us... what has the kid called up now?
As the vapor clears, you find yourself looking up at a tall, powerfully-built male figure. His main garment is a long, almost cassock-like robe of deep purple, dark enough to pass for black, and wrapped around his waist by means of what appears to be a belt of plain rope is a second section, a much lighter skirt or apron, upon which is emblazoned a stylized red symbol similar to a winged humanoid - one with a wide tail or skirt, and two tiny horns. A cloak of lighter violet hangs from the being's neck, transitioning to a pale yellow that falls from his shoulders in a stylishly-tattered fashion as it extends to the floor.
You are KIDDING me.
A singular curl of a beard hangs from a broad chin, above which sits a wide, smiling mouth, framed at the sides by two tusk-like teeth that rise from the lower jaw in a pronounced underbite. Atop that sit a pencil-thin slash of a moustache, a flat, piggish nose, and eyes so naturally squinted they almost appear weighted shut by the thick eyebrows. Pointed ears jut out almost directly to the sides, rather than in the upright manner common to Hylians and Gerudo alike, and finally, from atop an otherwise bald cranium jut two protrusions of reddish-brown hair, curled like gouts of fire - or horns.
Hey, I didn't send him!
The being radiates the otherworldly, quasi-divine aura of celestial beings, as well as one of magic... but there is also a hint of Darkness.
"GREETINGS from beyond the grave!" he bellows enthusiastically. "I, BATREAUX, have heard your summoning and come forth!"
"...I have NO idea who this guy is," Briar says.
That makes two of you.
You make good use of your credit with Gen to order various reading materials, in the hope of advancing your understanding of certain esoteric arts - among them, books on the use of ki, spiritual power, psychic power, Feng Shui, and geomancy.
Some of your orders go through faster than others, and the resulting materials range in value from useful to... rather less so. In particular, you have trouble locating any reliable books on the subject of genuine psychic powers. Most of the "manuals for unfogging the Third Eye" and other such titles that come into your hands are either complete bunk, or else describing MAGICAL practices of clairvoyance, foretelling, and aura-reading, all of which you're already significantly more conversant in than the authors of these works appear to have been.
Contrasting this is the relative ease with which you secure books on the theory and history of ki use - but then, you had Lu-sensei to advise you on what titles to ask about, and which to avoid.
Spent $1,000 in store credit
Gained Supplementary Reading
Gained Feng Shui E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Geomancy E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Ki) E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Reiki) E (Plus)
Keeping in mind your teacher's concerns about the writings of Shang Tsung, it is with considerable caution that you read your copy of Flawless Victory. It proves slow going, as the man has a proclivity for courtly language that makes the book three times as long and five times as impenetrable as it needs to be. There are also numerous references to people, places, and events you've never heard of, going back half a millennium.
Lu-sensei DID say this guy was old.
Gained Japanese C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Knowledge (Ancient Earth History) F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Literacy C
Well, when in Hyrule...
"SALUTATIONS, Batreaux!" you reply with all due bombast. "I am Alexander, your summoner! Beside me is my partner, Briar, daughter of the Great Fairy Navi, who was Companion to the Hero Link."
"OOOOHHHH!" Batreaux replies with a ghostly wail of delight. "What a fortuitous coincidence! In life, I, too, knew an Incarnation of the Hero, who rendered unto me the GREATEST of services!"
You are completely unsurprised that this guy has met Link. Between being a nosy do-gooder, an inveterate wanderer, AND a serial reincarnator, the number of people who've encountered the Hero down through the ages has to be pretty high.
"For it was by the Hero's kindness that I, a DARK and TERRIBLE demon, was blessed with the most precious gift of all - HUMAN form and companionship!"
...wait, what?
"You were a demon?" Briar asks.
Looking the guy over, you can see it. Make those tufts of hair horns, fill that underbite with tusks and fangs, turn the cape to wings... yeah, it'd work. And it readily explains how a celestial being could have an aura of Darkness.
"Indeed I was," Batreaux replies. "And a most FEARSOME demon, at that! Why, the span of my wings could cast a grown man into DARKNESS! The HOWL of my laughter rendered even the bravest WEAK in the knees! And my mere PRESENCE shadowed the land for miles around, driving gentle animals to SAVAGE ferocity!" He sighs in fond reminiscence, and then casually adds, "But unlike most of my kin, I bore no ill will towards the children of the Goddesses. No, the FEAR was all in good fun!"
...ooookay.
"I'm starting to understand why you got this guy, Alex," Briar mutters into your ear.
Yeah, you can see it yourself.
A demon-turned-human, responding to the call of a former human-turned-Demon King?
That's magical sympathy in action.
"I am most pleased to hear of your fondness for mortals," you say, "for I seek your guidance and aid in all matters magical."
"Indeed," Batreaux replies gravely. He clasps his hands together before his chest, prayerlike, and in so doing brings your attention to his unusually long, curved, and thick fingernails. Almost claws. "Such were the terms of the summoning. But will you hear the price of my aid, young sorcerer? Will you PAY it?"
"Name your terms, O Risen Demon, and we shall see."
"OOOOHHHH! Then SO BE IT!" Batreaux draws himself up, looming even taller than his already considerable height allows. "My guidance in the sorcerous arts comes at a most HEAVY price, young Alexander, and it is thus: I charge YOU" - and here, he stabs one claw-like finger down at you - "to find a being of MONSTROUS nature and GENTLE heart, and through works of CHARITY and KINDNESS, to grant them the gift that I was given!" He reaches for the mirrored ceiling and throws back his head. "TRANSCENDANCE! From INFERNITY to HUMANITY!"
...
Um.
"WHAT SAY YOU?"
"I SAY... that I have a few questions about your task that I should probably clear up before agreeing to it."
Batreaux blinks - which is a neat trick for someone whose eyelids appear to be permanently shut - and then abandons his dramatic pose for a more relaxed, natural stance.
"By all means," he says casually. "What troubles you?"
"For starters, I'd like to be sure that we're using the same definition of 'monster'..."
You proceed to explain to the former demon how the modern culture of the Moonlit World uses that particular term to refer to supernatural non-human beings that are still native to and born of the Earth, and how they're an entirely different category of being from extra-dimensionally originating demons.
Batreaux was clearly unaware of this detail, and he is positively DELIGHTED to hear of it, especially when it comes to the matter of how certain monster species actually originated as demons, and "naturalized" over the course of countless generations.
"WONDERFUL! To think that entire RACES of demons could and WOULD shed their most unholy natures and embrace the joys of mortality, as I did! Oooohhhh, it brings a tear to my eye to know that your world has made such PROGRESS already!"
...yeah, hooray for progress.
In keeping with that, you explain that you have friends among the youkai, and that you do not consider them to be any less "people" for their non-human origins and biological or behavioral quirks.
Batreaux commends you for your open-mindedness, and readily admits that the youkai you describe are just as human as he was, prior to his passing - which is good for them, but a bit inconvenient for you, since it means you'll have to track down an ACTUAL demon that would like to be mortal.
Your prospective magical tutor emphasizes that the transformation CANNOT and MUST NOT be forced. The subject must genuinely DESIRE to make the transition.
And that brings you to the big question.
"I'm not aware of any mechanism by which works of charity and kindness can change someone's species," you admit. "Can you explain that part in more detail? I mean, is it something you're going to teach me, or... what?"
"CERTAINLY! It has to do with the nature of demon-kind. We..." Batreaux pauses, and then corrects himself. "THEY are born of concentrations of dark magic and malice - literal chaos and evil, given tangible form and conscious will. DREADFUL! To some extent, a true demon is an IDEA as much as it is a material existence. It is part of the reason why their destruction is so often so difficult to realize, for how does one truly kill an idea? Even destroying all knowledge and record of it is no guarantee that someone, somewhere, someWHEN, will not have that same idea again - and should enough souls do so, the demon born of that idea may well rise once more."
...
Okay, that is a notion that had never really occurred to you. And it is honestly an alarming one.
Gained Demonology C
"HOWEVER!" Batreaux exclaims. "Because of their CONCEPTUAL nature, demons are in turn vulnerable to OTHER concepts - other ideas, especially those that embody HARMONY and RIGHTEOUSNESS. Even without the divine will of a Goddess behind them, actions that convey those ideals can effect a demon in various ways, and the stronger and more widespread the idea, the greater the impact upon the demon. With enough concentrated LOVE AND PEACE, channeled in a single moment, one could ANNIHILATE even the greatest of demons... or, should those forces be conveyed in a GENTLER manner, truer to their intrinsic nature, one could instead offer a willing demon a chance to become something OTHER, something GREATER, something more COMPLETE than it has ever been."
"...and how would you do that?" you ask.
"WITH THIS!"
Batreaux reaches behind his back with one hand, and when he brings it forward again, he is holding a small orange crystal in the shape of a three-dimensional starburst between his thumb and forefinger.
"A Gratitude Crystal?!" Briar gasps.
Of COURSE your partner knows what it is. She's a fairy, remember?
"INDEED! In those distant days when I was yet a being of DARKNESS, it was known that mortals might be so COMPLETELY OVERWHELMED with feelings of thankfulness, that their very emotions could CRYSTALIZE in the magic-rich atmosphere. And if enough Gratitude Crystals were collected, a demon might use them to undergo that MOST BLESSED METAMORPHOSIS!"
...
The idea of people experiencing such intense emotions that they spontaneously generate solid masses of CRYSTALLIZED FEELINGS should be utterly absurd.
But it's Hyrule you're talking about here. This kind of ridiculousness is RIGHT up there with the purported origin of Heart Containers as expressions of pure and intense love.
Batreaux regards the tiny starburst caught between his claws with deep fondness, and then sighs.
"Sadly, the environment of Hyrule has changed much, down through the ages, and it is no longer possible for Gratitude Crystals to form naturally. In addition, I am uncertain if your 'Earth' has ever enjoyed the conditions that would permit them to form...?"
You shake your head. "Not that I ever heard of."
"Ah, a shame. Fortunately, I have THIS!"
And once again, Batreaux reaches back to whip out a starburst crystal - this one entirely colorless, and large enough that he has to use his whole hand to grasp it.
"A Gratitude Crystallizer?!" Briar once again gasps, perfectly on cue.
"INDEED! With this MYSTICAL device, one may COLLECT feelings of gratitude directed towards one's self, CONDENSE and COMBINE them into a singular whole, and gradually CREATE a Gratitude Crystal powerful enough to transform a demon!"
And with that, Batreaux extends his hand, and the approximately baseball-sized glass-like object in it, to you.
"DARE you accept this task?"
Your reply echoes in the small chamber.
"GLORIOUS!" Batreaux says, before handing over the Crystallizer.
Gained Gratitude Crystallizer
As you hold the clear starburst crystal before you, it glows briefly. You feel its aura linking to yours - a necessary aspect of its functioning, Batreaux explains. The Crystallizer must know your emotions and be able to shut them out, if it is to properly detect, absorb, and convert the gratitude of others. In addition, being linked to you gives the device a sympathetic connection to emotions directed AT you, making them easier to tap into. And finally, by being bound to you, the item can function THROUGH you; in short, you need not take it out of your pocket to absorb gratitude. As long as it is on your person, so to speak, it will function.
An unfortunate but unavoidable side-effect of the entire attunement process is that it renders the Crystallizer unable to receive the bearer's feelings of gratitude towards other people.
You suppose that would have been too easy.
"One last thing, though," you add, as you pocket the mystical device.
"And that would be...?"
"How would you recommend finding a demon that WANTS to be human? Most of the ways I can think of are potentially dangerous, not just for me, but for the people connected to me - and my family and most of my friends are a lot more vulnerable than I am."
"Divination Magic may help, and you could always try to summon a demon with a suitable nature," Batreaux counsels you, "though I would advise leaving the latter course of action as a last resort. And should you go through with it, you must exercise the GREATEST of caution in the wording of your terms, as well as your interactions with who- and whatever it is that responds to your call. You are far, FAR too likely to get a demon that merely PRETENDS it desires humanity, when in truth, it is merely seeking to take advantage of your perceived innocence and naivete." He sighs.
You nod. "Just so we're clear, it may take me a while to find a demon that honestly wants to be human."
Batreaux nods. "I am prepared to wait until that JOYOUS day when you find one. In the meantime, a steady collection of Gratitude Crystals on your part will be sufficient as my 'payment' for your tutelage. Well, that, and your ability to meet my EXACTING standards of performance in our lessons."
Batreaux's grin is rather toothy for a celestial.
Must be his demonic origins showing through.
Gained A Deal With A(n Ex-)Demon Priority
Gained Elementalism B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Magical Prowess B (Plus) (Plus)
Batreaux is not your only contact with the denizens of Hyrule this year. You continue your deals with Dekon the Deku Scrub, stepping up your sales of Earth-native fruits, vegetables, and seeds thereof. The leafy little merchant is delighted by the business, and his customers in turn are quite pleased, though as the year winds on, Dekon admits that he expects sales to drop, now that the seeds have taken root and people have access to home-grown apples and such.
The more exotic fruits that won't grow in Hyrule's mostly-temperate climate, but which you have relatively easy access to thanks to Earth's shipping industry, continue to sell steadily, and every so often, Dekon finds a buyer for a "new" or "fragile" Earth-native flower.
Gained Business E
Gained 75 Rupees (25 Green, 6 Blue, 1 Red)
On a related note, you've FINALLY gotten a straight answer from the Hyrulean Church regarding your proposed business arrangement. Said missive comes in company with a long-winded explanation that technically qualifies as an apology for the wait. Sort of. If you turn your head and squint.
It appears as though the "succession crisis" you'd heard about has finally been resolved, with the missing priest rescued and appointed to his new office in good order.
He also got married - Hyrule's priests are allowed to do that, it seems - and the happy couple are already expecting their firstborn.
Good for them.
In any event, as a consequence of all this, you're able to get that idea of selling spices and other "rare" or "exotic" materials off the ground. Amy and Cordelia are handling the purchasing, delivery, and (very) short-term storage of the goods in question, which show up at your front door twice a month to be cleansed of incidental corruption and then translocated to Hyrule.
In exchange for this, you're seeing a healthy flow of Rupees, silver, and even a bit of gold. The precious metals are going to Amy and Cordy, but the glittering crystals are yours, free and clear.
Not that the girls would OBJECT to being paid in pretty gems, it's just that silver and gold are a lot easier to convert to cash than crystals from another world.
Gained Local Knowledge (Hyrule) D (Plus)
Gained 100 Rupees (10 Blue, 1 Yellow, 2 Red)
Gained Extradimensional Exports
Are there any orders you'd like to place with Dekon or the Church this year?
Given your access to the markets of Hyrule, the first thing that comes to mind as a potential purchase is, naturally, one of the country's nigh-indestructible Glass Bottles. The things are just RIDICULOUSLY useful, far too much so for you to go without at least one in your inventory.
As it happens, you're able to secure one such Bottle through your trade with the Church - or rather, three, with the other two going to Cordelia and Amy.
It turns out that gifting such a Bottle to a child who is without one of their own is a long-standing tradition among Hylians, one that they've begun to extend to foreigners they are on good terms with, in the years since the recovery of the Triforce and the restoration of the realm under Queen Zelda. The origins of the custom have been largely forgotten by the general populace, but the Church credits the Hero of Hyrule.
That said, the tradition is one Bottle per kid. If you want any more than that, you'll have to pay for them like everyone else, and they aren't cheap - the usual asking price is no less than 100 Rupees per Bottle, and it's been known to go several times higher.
Incidentally, when the Bottles first arrive - via Postman - Briar takes one look at them and backs away, hissing.
Gained Hylian Glass Bottle
Your inquiries about purchasing a set of Pegasus Boots or a Hylian Shield are less productive. The former are simply not for sale at any price, while sales of the latter are restricted to those who have been granted the right to bear the Royal Crest on their person - in short, the Knights of the Realm.
Even among Hylians, knighthoods are not bestowed casually. You would have to do some significant service to the Realm, and then present yourself to the monarch in person to be knighted - and given what you've learned about the Curse of Demise, such a meeting would just be DARING it to go off in the worst possible way.
You do have some luck acquiring seeds for Hyrule-native plants from Dekon, which you get parental permission to plant - the most normal plants in the backyard, the more exotic ones in pots that stay inside - on the condition that YOU are responsible for them. Unfortunately, the plants don't grow very well over the course of the year. You're not sure if it's the environment disagreeing with them or something you're doing wrong, and when you ask Briar, she says the answer is C) both of the above.
On the mundane side of things, Hyrule is cooler and sees considerably more rainfall than the part of California where you live; there's also less salt, at least where these plants customarily grow. You don't have nearly enough skill as a gardener to overcome those issues.
Gained Herbalism F (Plus) (Plus)
On the magical side, Sunnydale's energy flows are VERY different from what these plants are used to: there's less power in general, compared to the land so favored by the Golden Goddesses; what there is available tends to be of lesser quality; and of course, the Hellmouth takes its toll on everything. Ambrose's wards are keeping the corruption out, but they aren't really designed to heal the after-effects of long-term exposure - and the soil in your backyard was exposed for a LONG time.
Casting the Lesser Spell of Plant Growth wasn't enough to make up the difference. The plants GREW, they just didn't come up as the exotic, magically-valuable specimens you were hoping for.
Maybe if you'd spent more time on them, or had a better grasp of Wood Elementalism...?
There is some good news. For one, Dekon didn't charge you much for the seeds, seeing them as a trade in kind for the fruits, vegetables, and seeds you've been getting for him. In addition, you didn't use up all or even most of them this year.
And one plant DID grow quite well, thanks entirely to Briar's careful attention.
Gained Hyrulean Seeds
Gained Mini Baba
You regard the Venus flytrap-like plant now sitting in a pot on your windowsill, as the two leaves that form its tiny mouth - smaller even than one of Zelda's little hands, much less your own mitts - snap shut around a piece of meat that Briar dropped in.
"...why, Briar?" you ask plaintively. "Just... why?"
"What?" she replies defensively. "It's cute!"
"It could EAT you," you point out.
"Oh, he'd never! Would you, Snappy?" she croons, fluttering down to stroke the plant's jaw-leaves, like it was some kind of arboreal puppy. "Who's a good boy?"
It shivers.
In the face of Briar's obvious affection for... "Snappy"... there is really only one thing you can do.
"...just be sure to keep it away from Zelda, Briar," you sigh. "And Moblin."
"Sure thing, Alex! Don't you worry, I'll raise him well!"
You stare at your partner's almost fawning affection towards the carnivorous shoot, and then very deliberately turn around and walk away.
You try not to imagine the streets of Sunnydale overrun with Deku Babas and Hellmouth-mutated variations thereof, taking bites out of the local vampire population, as well as whatever else gets too close.
Hmmm...
You try VERY hard not to imagine a full-on war between the leafy menace and the walking dead.
Farore, no.
...
Farore, yes.
...somehow, you just KNOW that this decision is going to come back and bite you.
Possibly even literally.
On the spiritual side of things, you spend the year trying to cultivate the raw strength of your soul. As you currently lack a teacher in the spiritual arts, this is arguably the most productive possible use of your time in that field, as it gives you more energy to work with and makes all your nascent soul-driven abilities that extra bit more potent.
Gained Spiritual Prowess B (Plus) (Plus)
At the same time, whenever you aren't safely under Ambrose's wards - which is to say, basically every time you leave the house to go to school or visit a friend - you try to build up your resistance to Sunnydale's demonic taint. As venturing into areas of increased corruption would most likely take you into a nest of demons, or somewhere else you don't currently want to be, you instead experiment with the defense you've been using to ward off the contamination.
To date, you've been envisioning the process as "hardening" the outermost layers of your soul, those normally free-drifting tendrils of excess potentiality, into a kind of ablative shell, which you simply cast off whenever it becomes tainted enough to potentially infect the lower layers. Now that you have a safe haven to retreat to, you can afford to spend a few hours each day with your defenses in different, potentially less-effective configurations: sometimes "softer"; sometimes "harder" than normal, which actively drains your spiritual power; and in a variety of shapes beyond the smooth, body-encasing ovoid you've been visualizing up until now.
And slowly, you make progress, eventually finding that a "sheath" of spiritual energy, kept close to the skin, makes for a more efficient method of resistance than the egg-shaped shell. Perhaps because, this way, you're not trying to shield a large volume of air as well as your person?
Gained Corruption Resistance C
Gained Knowledge (Reiki) E (Plus) (Plus)
When not risking exposure to ambient demonic energies, you spend some of the time under Ambrose's ward meditating upon, and with, your Goddess-given sword. You've had it for half a year, now, and it's been absorbing your energies at a low but constant rate for all that time. You've done battle with the weapon in hand, even fought the grim spectre of Dark Link himself with it by your side, and yet you still don't know much about what functions beyond its basic enchantment the blade might hold, much less the purpose for which the Goddesses sent it to you.
That... is a secret!
Given the relatively large amount of spiritual energy the Blessed Blade has absorbed since coming to your hand, you consider the possibility that it might possess a spirit of its own, either from the beginning or as a consequence of its ongoing... feeding. You try to commune with said spirit, using spells, your burgeoning mental powers, and simple probes of spiritual energy, but you get no response.
Either there is no soul in the blade to answer you, or it's still too unformed to respond.
Or you could be doing it wrong - you really need to get a spiritual tutor to tell you these things.
With that in mind, once you've successfully secured Batreaux's services as a magic tutor, you perform a second calling ritual, reaching out to the Goddesses for someone who can instruct you in the spiritual arts - specifically, those involved with their priesthood(s).
He does know that's not the role of a Chosen One, right?
The circle is formed, the spell is cast, and your call sent out.
He could still use an advisor, though.
As with Batreaux, your summoning results in a flash of golden light, but this time, there is no accompanying pulse of darkness. Instead, you feel...
But which one?
You are a little surprised to realize that you can sense not one, but three distinct presences within the summoning circle, elemental auras of red Fire, blue Water, and green Wind shining clearly through the golden power of the Goddesses.
When the light fades, three figures stand before you.
At the back of the small group stands a Goron. Unlike your one-time ally Bando, this individual is visibly aged - ancient, even - the great height and powerful musculature of his people diminished by long, long decades of life. He is hunched over a thick staff of fire-hardened wood, decorated with small jewels and bits of metalwork, his head is bald as the rocks upon which his people dine, and his dark eyes are whitened by rheum, yet he wears the red, white, and gold robes of a priest of Din, and while the aura of Fire and Earth that radiates from him is far from the most powerful that you've encountered, it is steady.
Ahead and to the right of the Goron elder is a Zora, his opposite in almost every respect. Where the Goron is male, hunched and withered by age, the Zora is a female somewhere in her twenties, tall, slender, and smooth of face and form. Where the Goron stands almost as motionless as a mountain stone, waiting with ancient patience that could easily be confused for dismissal of his situation and surroundings, his counterpart is looking around with obvious interest, eyes resting on a given target just long enough for her to catalogue it, before moving on to the next.
How someone can find THAT much to look at in your Mirror Hideaway is open to question.
The water-woman wears the blue, white, and gold robes of Nayru's clergy, and her aura projects Water and hints of Ice at almost exactly the same level of potency as the Goron's presence. That singular point of similiarity is shared by the final member of the trio, a child-like Kokiri male whose traditional plain green tunic has been joined by a white chasuble, marked with the golden emblems of a woodland priest of Farore.
"Hey, you have a fairy!" the druid in question exclaims, pointing at Briar.
"So do you," you reply.
And indeed, the Kokiri's partner - who glows green with hints of gold, you see - has just alighted from a pocket. Unlike the other three arrivals, all of whom give off the aura of elevated mortal souls, the fairy is clearly still alive.
"Huh," a small, high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice says. "The Goddesses didn't mention THIS. Hey there, cousin. My name's Vert."
"I'm Briar," your partner replies, with a mid-air curtsy. "Nice to meet you, Vert. This is my partner, Alex."
The Kokiri's eyes widen. "Your partner? For real?"
"Yup!"
"That is AWESOME!"
Through your bond, you have no trouble feeling your partner's happy pride, and you have to admit, you do share it.
Further discussion of how awesome the two of you are is put on hold, as the Goron chooses that moment to move and speak.
"Harrumph," he exclaims, half clearing his throat, half expressing grumpy old person disapproval of you noisy young folks. "Well, then. Since we're introducing ourselves, I am Terok - but you will call me Elder."
"Lanora," the Zora priestess says, with a smooth, easy, arm-and-fin-spreading bow. "Please address me as Madam, or Teacher."
"You can call me Koron," the Kokiri concludes with an easy grin, "because that's my name and all."
Elder Terok makes a gravel-grating noise of annoyance.
"And now that we know one another's names," Madam Lanora says smoothly, through a faint smile, "shall we move on to business?"
Elder Terok grunts. "Fine." He raises his staff off the ground, and jabs the blunted butt straight at you, showing that however whitened his black eyes are, he is not blind. "You called for a teacher. The Goddesses, in their infinite confoundedness, sent you three."
"Four!" Koron and Vert interject, the former cheerfully, the latter with a sour note.
"I know what I said, you twerps, and don't interrupt me!" the Goron snaps.
There's a brief silence, before the Elder says, "Where was I, again?"
"Infinite confoundedness," Madam Lanora offers calmly.
"Right. The way I see it, that means the Goddesses think you're BADLY in need of some proper instruction in the basics." Elder Terok snorts. "Which comes as no surprise to me. You look like you might have some Gerudo blood, you live on another world entirely, you've got a FAIRY partner-"
"Hey!" comes a joint objection from Briar, Vert, and Koron.
"Hey," you add your voice to the chorus, giving the Goron a sharp look for added measure. "With all due respect, Elder, no bad-mouthing my partner."
"Yeah!"
"What about me?" Vert grumbles.
"You're not his partner," Koron says helpfully.
"Thank you, Mister Obvious."
Elder Terok ignores those two, his whitened eyes meeting your not-quite-a-glare firmly.
"You, fairy-girl," he challenges. "Are you a priestess of the Goddesses?"
"My name is-"
"I heard you just fine the first time, now answer my question."
Briar huffs at the old Goron's rudeness, but says, "No, I'm not. Fairies don't DO the whole... priestly thing."
Terok nods. "I'm aware. Have you ever been partnered to a member of the clergy, like this one?" He pokes his walking stick at Vert.
"Oi, watch it with that thing!"
"No," Briar replies. "Alex is my first partner."
"Oh, hey, congratulations!" the Kokiri chimes in.
"Yeah, likewise."
"Thank you both!"
"So whatever you know about the Goddesses is from the fairy perspective, right?" Elder Terok goes on, sparing an irritated sidelong look at his smaller contemporary and said contemporary's even smaller associate. "Not the Hylian or the Sheikahn or the Gerudo, CERTAINLY not the Goron or the Zoran, and not even entirely the same as the Kokiri."
"...well, yes."
"So in your own way, you're just as ignorant of the Church, of the faith as understood and practiced by the other peoples of Hyrule, as the boy is. Correct?"
Briar sighs and concedes the argument.
"Glad we have that settled, then."
The aged priest thumps the butt of his staff on the mirrored floor, as if to punctuate that remark.
And once again, there is a pause, as an ever-so-slight air of befuddlement overcomes the Elder.
"He's badly in need of proper instruction in the basics," Madam Lanora repeats, without prompting, and minus the acerbic tone the Goron used.
"Right, right. As I was saying, you live in another world, and have no DIRECT sources of information on the Church-"
"I got a set of the holy books from them, Elder."
"-no direct LIVING sources of information on the Church, which is why the Goddesses have sent us-"
"Even though we're technically dead," Koron points out with a grin.
"It. Was. A. Figure. Of. Speech."
Terok's aura of Fire becomes a little more pronounced with each syllable he grits out, and the stony patches in his skin begin to give off a cherry-red glow. The display leads you to wonder, firstly, if he'll actually explode in some manner if pushed far enough, and secondly, if that's a thing unique to him or to Goron priests of Din, or if it's something any of her mortal servants could potentially do.
You're not going to lie, the idea of being able to spontaneously and literally BLOW UP at people when they tick you off does have some appeal. You could do it now, of course - magic offers a multitude of options - but Terok isn't casting a spell or actively channeling mana as far as you can sense. He's just kind of... lighting up.
"But while the Goddesses have sent us," Madam Lanora interjects, "and while it is of course our duty to serve them and to spread the word of the Church, there ARE formalities in this sort of arrangement that need to be observed. Especially in this particular situation." She regards you directly. "Lady Nayru did not offer full details, but I understand that this world has... considerable restrictions on mortal interactions with the divine?"
"That's a polite way of putting it," you admit. "But yes."
The Zora woman nods. "In which case, it would benefit all of us to follow the rules as closely as possible, so as to give any unfriendly elements fewer arms with which to attack us later."
"She means we need to ask you to pay us a fair price for our instruction," Koron explains.
You'd expected as much, and start the negotiations. After some discussion of your abilities, ongoing projects, and current long-term goals, a few suggestions emerge.
Koron is all in favor of you learning how to transplant Hyrulean plants to Earth, and is downright tickled when he learns that Briar managed to get a Mini Baba to grow here. Granted, the various species the druid would like to see you import include a lot of the less-fantastic varieties, not really useful as magical reagents, but if you're going to set up a private greenhouse or something like that ANYWAY, you can probably find the room.
Another option Koron is willing to entertain, given your access to and exploits in Faerie, is for you to help out the local Little Folk - and by "local," he means in the Sunnydale area as much as in the adjacent plane. There are SOME Fae creatures hereabouts, and even if they're mostly unpleasant by human standards, well, a Kokiri isn't human. Failing that, there's always Briar's occasional fairy visitors.
It doesn't escape your notice that going out of your way to help others would dovetail nicely with Batreaux's request.
Lanora's interest is piqued by your interactions with representatives of four different native religions, and at least as many native magic traditions. She'd very much like a chance to sit down and "talk shop" with the various priests, monks, and spellcasters of your acquaintance, and would not say no at all to being able to converse with one or more of the kami you've met. She is especially interested in the prospect of meeting Elder Tiriaq, but that's at least as much because he's a member of the Southern Water Tribe as is it for his status as a shaman.
As the Zora priestess explains, getting this "ground level" information about how faith and magic work on Earth would be a boon for Nayru, whose own information about the planet's mystical side is still woefully incomplete. Much of what the Goddess of Wisdom knows or reasonably suspects about this planet, is based on her own observations and careful inferences, with a few remarks from the more helpful native deities thrown in - all of which is from a godly, "top-down" perspective, and thus doesn't accurately reflect the mortal side of things.
Annoying, but true.
On a similar note, Lanora is hoping to conduct a series of field experiments in different locations all over the Earth, to establish a baseline - again, from the mortal perspective - for how the local energies ebb and flow. The project would require a fair amount of magical assistance from you, above and beyond simply serving as a one-man intercontinental taxi service.
What are your preferences for these "prices?"
You were already thinking about taking up gardening, if mainly for magical profit, so the prospect of expanding your intended operation to include mostly-mundane Hyrulean plants is no great hardship. Species that aren't so inherently magical - and thus reliant on the unique traits of Hyrule's magic-rich environment for full and proper development - would likely be easier to transplant anyway.
Gained Seeds of the Future Priority
As for Lanora's proposals, maybe it's your own history of finding trouble half the time when you go off into unexplored territory, but you greatly favor the idea of introducing her to the spiritual and magical professionals you've met. If nothing else, holding meetings at actively-maintained holy sites and in arcane laboratories will at least put a layer of protective wards between the two of you and whatever problems come knocking.
And yes, you DO plan to sit in on those conversations Lanora has, as much as possible.
You'd like to know the information she's after yourself.
Besides, it's not like you couldn't always do the global magical examination later. Really, such a far-ranging project would probably go over much better if you talked with the local experts in the field first, and got a heads-up about places to visit and/or avoid, creatures and phenomenon to be on the lookout for, and the preferred methods for dealing with all manner of occurrences, rather than going in blind and having to make things up on the fly.
It would be a nice change of pace.
Not that this approach hasn't worked for you in the past, but you don't think a priestess of Nayru would be particularly impressed by it.
You think right.
Gained Talking Shop Priority
With Koron and Madam Lanora's methods of payment established, you take a breath and ready yourself to... negotiate with Elder Terok about the price HE will be paid for his services.
The ancient Goron eyes you in silence for a long moment, and only the keen intensity of his white-eyed gaze stops you from wondering if his mind has drifted elsewhere.
"I'm not interested in being paid with material things," the priest of Din says. "What need do I have for them anymore? And it's too easy for someone with the magical power to summon all three of us at once to get... STUFF... whether it's made, earned, or simply taken. What sort of sacrifice to the Goddess is that? I'm not much interested in this other world's people and their problems, either. They should be just as capable of standing on their own feet as the rest of us, and if they're NOT, they're not worth my time, much less Lady Din's."
Wow, Sis. You know how to pick 'em.
Well, now. Isn't HE just a regular old bundle of joy?
Quality over quantity, Farore.
Koron and Lanora wince at their companion's statement.
I'll see your "quality," and raise you a Link.
"Kind of harsh, don't you think?" the Kokiri murmurs.
...shut up.
"Hmph," the Goron grunts. "No, what I'm interested in here, boy, is YOU. You see, I've heard a few things about you. Young Bando had plenty to say about the Dodongo-spawn he got called up to fight with the Goddess's blessing. The Great Fairies, gossip-mongers that they are-"
Briar and Vert both chuckle faintly.
"-haven't shut up about Navi finally getting off her duff and DOING something, other than hang out in a mouldy old ruin with a rusty sword, much less what that something WAS, or WHY she did it. And as for your antics in Faerie... well, Sages are just as bad as Great Fairies for gossip, and BOTH groups have been going on about that." Terok shakes his head. "The thing that stands out to me in all those stories, rumors, and wild speculations, is that everybody agrees you were using magic AND martial arts. Normally, I wouldn't pay that any mind - like I said before, powerful magic makes it too easy to GET things, to DO things - but when Great Fairies, Sages, AND a good Goron all agree? I start to wonder if maybe there's some truth in there. I do indeed."
...okay, where's he going with this?
I would like to know that myself.
"What I want from you, boy, is this. You're going to find a place where the locals won't make a nuisance of themselves, even when things get bright and noisy. You're going to call us, and together, we're all going to set up a Ring of Trials-"
Oh, hell yes!
"Wait, what?" Lanora exclaims in surprise.
That's a GREAT idea!
"We are?" Koron asks. "Neat!"
This is a TERRIBLE idea.
"The heck you say!" Briar objects.
Din, I totally take it back; your grumpy old Goron is AWESOME.
"-and then you're going to show me, and the Goddesses, just how well you can fight," Elder Terok concludes.
Hehehe.
You turn to your partner, and say simply, "'Ring of Trials'?"
Honestly, you two. What happened to not putting children in danger?
Briar exhales sharply. "Think of the World Tournament Finals."
It's okay, Worrywater. We know how strong the kid is; we can pick challenges to suit him.
"Okay."
You're still going to encourage his recklessness.
"Only you're fighting in every round."
What can I say? Hooray for recklessly brave!
"...okay."
Heh. More Power! Arh, arh, arh...
"You don't get to take a break."
...I should never have let you two find out about this realm's entertainment.
"...still okay. Ish."
"And all your opponents are Hyrulean monsters."
You pause at that, and raise your right hand, thumb and forefinger a couple of inches apart. "Are we talking little monsters, here or..." You spread your arms wide.
"Big ones," Briar replies. "Or small ones that are strong enough to throw down with the big ones. Or big ones that summon or create small ones, to make things more INTERESTING."
...huh.
A part of you is very much in favor of this proposal, and would like nothing more than to leap right into it.
That's my boy.
The rest of you would like more information.
THANK you.
"What sort of preparations am I allowed to make for the trial?" you ask. "I mean, can I bring equipment or magic items with me? Am I allowed to use magic and ki? That sort of thing."
"Anything you can carry in, and any ability you can use under your own power, is allowed," Elder Terok replies gruffly. "It wouldn't be a test worthy of Din, otherwise."
"And if forethought and planning weren't allowed, it wouldn't be worthy of Nayru," Madam Lanora adds.
The Goron grunts an acknowledgment.
Well, that's good to know.
"You will want to be careful not to OVER-prepare, though," Koron adds thoughtfully. "The trials are supposed to scale to the abilities of those taking them, so the more powerful you are going in, the harder things will be from the get-go."
You regard the Kokiri for a moment, and offer, "Let me guess: if it wasn't dangerous enough to be scary, it wouldn't be worthy of Farore?"
He grins. "Exactly!"
You nod. "Okay. Um... right, this next one may seem a little... odd, but... do I have to worry about killing my challengers?"
The priests regard you blankly.
"It... IS a trial by combat," Madam Lanora says slowly. "Defeating your opponents is... kind of the point."
"Yeah," Koron agrees in the same tone. Then he blinks. "Oh, wait, I think I get it. You're worried about killing PEOPLE, or animals - taking LIVES, right?"
"Yes, that."
He nods. "No, it's nothing like that. The creatures you face in the trials aren't people, animals, or even real monsters. That would just be cruel. They're more like..." He pauses, frowning. "Well, no, they're NOT like constructs, not in form, but they're similar in purpose. The Goddesses create them specifically for these trials, and ONLY for the trials. They can't do or be anything else."
Ah. You feel better, knowing that.
"One last question, then?"
"Yes?" the Elder grunts. "What is it?"
"Are spectators allowed?"
Once again, your words leave the priests briefly stunned.
"I mean, I have a martial arts teacher who I know would be interested in seeing this, if only so he could evaluate my performance," you explain quickly. And then, because you know Lu-sensei pretty well, you add, "And if I went and did this without getting his permission or even telling him about it, he'd smack me around the dojo and call me an idiot."
Wonder of wonders, Terok actually snickers at that.
"I really should tell my parents, too," you go on. "I'm not sure if they'd be interested in seeing something like this, but again, if I went ahead without telling them about it and they found out later - and my teacher would definitely mention it to them, especially if I got hurt - then I'd be in plenty of trouble."
Lanora nods.
"And then there's my friends," you finish. "I'm sure that some of them would really appreciate the chance to see something like this, and be a little put out with me for not inviting them, if there was any chance for them to attend."
Koron looks amazed, and a little alarmed. "You have WEIRD friends, Alex."
Briar starts laughing.
"Yes, well..." Terok clears his throat. "It would be... unorthodox, but making provisions so that a small audience could observe the trials would... probably be permitted."
Make that absolutely.
Koron nods. "Yeah. If people you care about are there to see you screw up, that's even scarier than monsters!"
...
He's not wrong. It's a different KIND of fear, but...
"Well, in that case..." You pause to collect yourself, and then grin. "I love this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it! Let's do it!"
I wonder if the fairy thinks her job is worth $11,500 a year?
Briar starts laughing harder.
I think you broke her, Sister.
So, who do you want to invite to witness your entry into the Ring of Trials?
After the "who," there are the questions of "where" and "when."
It took until late November this year for your Gerudo traits to diminish to a level where you were comfortable with summoning (former) Hyrulean natives, and you expect it'll take a few weeks to confirm a location where you and the three priests could set up the Ring of Trials without fear of being disturbed, as well as giving your guests time to sort out their schedules.
You're NOT about to try and invite people out to watch you fight on Christmas. That's family time, and you're not missing it. And while you don't know if monsters celebrate Christmas, you do know that New Year's is a big secular holiday in Japan, so all your friends who live there, human as well as monster, will have other obligations to attend to.
The earliest that you could host guests for the trials, then, would be in the new year, and if you're going to wait that long... well, the idea of making this part of your next birthday HAD occurred to you.
On the plus side, holding your birthday party somewhere outside of Sunnydale this year would greatly increase the likelihood of your various supernaturally-aware friends being allowed to attend. The spectacle of the Ring of Trials would also provide more entertainment for any monsters you invited, and probably for the super-human crowd as well. Combining the two events would also just be terribly efficient, saving everyone involved a great deal of time, and you'd have a chance to finish more of your planned training, making yourself that much more ready and able to face whatever challenges the Goddesses throw at you in the Ring.
On the down side, your parents and more normal friends may not be quite so thrilled about seeing you face down a gauntlet of Hyrulean monsters on your birthday. You'd also be waiting four months and change to attend to Terok's requested price, which might annoy him.
What's your preference?
You close your eyes for a moment, and try to picture it.
Warm sand under your feet, a clear, bright sky overhead, and the great ocean, spreading out endlessly before you.
The song of the waves and the wind in the trees, married with recorded music, the crackle of fire-pits, and mortal laughter.
And the roar of the crowd! The ring of steel on steel, or armored scale, or living stone! The thunder of blood in your ears and in your chest, as you meet the enemy in a test of arms!
Yes.
YES.
This sounds like a great idea!
You float the notion to the priests, and while Elder Terok is indeed a bit put out by the prospect of waiting over four months to see what you can do, he does grumpily concede that having you challenge the Ring of Trials on your next birthday WOULD be appropriate in the eyes of Din.
Damn straight.
"Less so for Nayru," Madam Lanora interjects, "but she would approve of using the extra time to get yourself ready."
Yes, if he's resolved to do this, best that he do it fully-prepared.
You turn to Koron, wondering if he'll have anything to say regarding Farore's view of your plan.
"...whatever happened to just having cake and playing games on your birthday?" the Kokiri wonders.
Oooh, good question.
"Oh, I was definitely planning on having cake, too," you admit without hesitation.
Really, Farore?
This appears to appease the druid, at least somewhat.
Hey, cake is serious business! Especially at birthday parties.
"But honestly," you add, "after my friends see me taking the trials, I wouldn't be surprised if some of them wanted to do the same thing."
And once again, your words leave the assembled Hyruleans speechless and gaping.
"REALLY weird friends," Vert finally says.
Having paid Koron and Lanora's prices, and at least convinced Terok that you WILL be paying his in due course, you continue your studies in spirituality with the benefit of three tutors.
Okay, it's more like two. Two and a half, if you count Vert - who's picked up his share of this stuff from a lifetime and more of hanging out with his partner - and the occasional grumble from the Goron, in response to something one or more of the others says.
Gained Corruption Resistance C (Plus)
Gained Cryptozoology C (Plus) (C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean monsters)
Gained Demonology C (Plus) (C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean demons)
Gained Elementalogy D (D (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean elementals)
Gained Faerie Lore D (Plus) (D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean Fae)
Gained Herbalism E (E (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean plants)
Gained Hyrulean Theology C (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Local Knowledge (Hyrule) D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Necrology D (Plus) (D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean undead)
Gained Parazoology C (Plus) (C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean spirits)
Gained Spiritual Prowess B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Sylvan D
Gained Zoology E (E (Plus) (Plus) Hyrulean animals)
You question your tutors about your Blessed Blade, and whether or not it might have a spirit of its own. Koron and Vert both look rather lost at the idea, and while Lanora admits that it's entirely possible, she also says that Nayru hadn't seen fit to inform her one way or the other - and any prayers for guidance on the subject are met with silence. Possibly because this isn't exactly a simple matter, your sword being Goddess-given and all.
Terok twitches slightly when you bring up the matter, and at a few points during your discussion with the Zoran priestess, but he refuses to say anything one way or the other until you've gone through the Ring of Trials.
Your attempts to cultivate resistance to your memories of Ganondorf - and through them, the Curse lurking in your soul - go a little better than your efforts to unravel the mystery of your blade. When you carefully question the priests about the matter, they admit that they were warned about your... very complicated circumstances, and all of them, even Terok, do their best to assist you in developing this particular skill.
The Goddesses WANT you to be able to fight off Ganondorf and Demise's influence, after all, as does basically everyone else who's ever lived in Hyrule.
...okay, it's more that everyone who's ever lived in Hyrule doesn't want to see the King of Evil darkening their collective doorstep once again, but it amounts to the same thing. Right?
Unfortunately, the priestly trio are little better informed than yourself about HOW to go about throwing off an unholy, possessing presence that's literally built in to your soul.
External influences, like body-snatching ghosts? Certainly. In a land where Poes and other mischievous spirits roam freely every night after dusk, there's much call for such abilities, even among the lowest levels of the priesthood.
Even when it comes to full-blown demonic possession - which is an order or two of magnitude worse than merely spectral cohabitation - your new teachers at least know the THEORY of dealing with the problem. None of them ever had to face such problems in their respective lifetimes, of course, but they knew how it was done, which was more than you could say.
An internal influence, though? One that's coming at you across planes, and incarnations, and EONS of time? One that's rooted in the very center of your metaphysical being?
That... is something else entirely.
But still, you try.
You ALL try.
Any defense is better than no defense at all.
Let's hope so.
...isn't it?
Gained Possession Resistance E
Gained Spirit Resistance E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Spiritual Armor F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Spiritual Control C (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Spiritual Enhancement D
Gained Spiritual Power C
While you're taking all these exotic extracurriculars, your mundane education continues. Now in Third Grade, you've reached the point where Sunnydale Elementary's standard curriculum is not really challenging you anymore, unless you do work from a grade or so above your level - which you are in a few classes, for extra credit.
There have been murmurs about moving you up a grade, but not all of your teachers are in support of the idea. A couple refuse to assign or accept extra-credit materials, for no obvious reason that doesn't boil down to personal dislike of the idea, and a larger group are making noises about proper socialization and pointing out that you have a very small circle of actual friends among your peers.
Frankly, you think you're socializing perfectly fine; it's just that the majority of your classmates aren't really your peers, in any sense of the term besides physical age - something your size skews even further - while the majority of your ACTUAL friends just so happen to live outside of Sunnydale.
Not that you put it quite like that, when the teachers who fancy themselves "experts" on child psychology talk to you about this stuff. But you do mention all your pen-pals, which does much to appease the ones who appear to actually know what they're saying.
The rest just start talking faster, using more and longer words that you suspect aren't really words at all, or at least don't mean what these people THINK they mean.
When you mention this to Briar, she obligingly exclaims, "Inconceivable!"
Truly, you have the BEST partner.
Gained Computer Literacy F (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Local Knowledge (Sunnydale) D (Plus)
Gained Mental Prowess C (Plus)
Gained Modern Education E (Plus)
Gained Pop Culture E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Powerful Build D (Plus)
Gained Science E (Plus) (Plus)
Speaking of partners, peers, and classmates, now that your mystical senses are... well, frankly absurdly good for your age, where they aren't ridiculous for ANY age (such as your Divination-based senses), you take the time to look over not only your own class, but - eventually - the entire population of the school, to see who, if any, of the other students have the potential for the various forms of exotic energy manipulation you know of.
You are not surprised to learn that the more athletically-inclined students have higher levels of still-untrained ki than those who prefer to spend recess curled up with a good book, drawing, or just sitting around chatting with their friends. Still, leaving out the kids you recognize from Lu-sensei's classes, the only people you can find who look to have any significant aptitude for harnessing their ki are a girl named Sheila Martini, a boy named Bob Marshall who's almost as big as you, and the more normal-sized Cameron Walker.
From what Cordelia and Amy tell you, Sheila hangs out with the playground bullies, and is one in her own right - and not just among the girls, either. She's been seen strong-arming some of the smaller, meeker boys into forking over their lunch money. Not really someone you want to see learning how to unlock enhanced human strength and the ability to throw energy bolts from her hands.
As for Bob, he hangs out with Jack O'Toole, who even at the tender age of nine, has a reputation as a troublemaker. He got suspended for bringing a knife to class earlier this year, and rather more importantly, he's one of the kids on your list of potential magic-users - and not for a GOOD reason. The kid's aura bears the dark colors of Necromancy, and while the bulk of that appears to be residue from hanging around a practitioner, Jack himself has a clear aptitude for the darker paths of that particular magical art.
Again, probably not someone you want gaining knowledge of ki use.
Cameron might be okay.
As far as other magical prospects go, Sunnydale Elementary seems to have a bit of a surplus going, with something like one in every dozen students having the potential to at least manage cantrips and first-circle spells under their own power. The number of those who might be good enough to compete with Amy, given time and training, is more like one in fifty, but that still leaves you looking at seven or eight possible witches, warlocks, and other professional spellcasters - among them, Michael Czajack, Tucker Wells, and the aforementioned Jack.
This abundance of magically-gifted children is almost certainly a consequence of living on the Hellmouth, and it only includes those whose reserves are already at useful levels for internally-based magic. You can't say for certain without resorting to more powerful, active, and risky Divination Magic, but you'd venture that there's at least three times as many students in the general population who could be trained up to worthwhile levels of ability - or who could take up external magic.
You don't find any apparent psychics in the school, but this may be because your mental sensory skills aren't quite so well-honed as your awareness of other forces. Nor do you spot any other kids who have either Fae heritage or contact with fairy creatures - Briar confirms that, and neither of you are surprised.
There are some demons in the school, though. Attending class, even.
You're not entirely sure how you feel about that, but there's not even twenty of them, all told, and most aren't acting any differently from the fully-human students.
And who knows? Once you've got enough Gratitude Crystals, maybe some of them would be open to the idea of becoming human? You'll have to take more to approach them about that subject, though.
Gained Alex's List (of Interesting People In Sunnydale Elementary)
After your success in finding tutors for magical and spiritual matters, you're very much in favor of acquiring an instructor who can help round out your academic progress, particularly in those areas that a normal school like Sunnydale Elementary doesn't cover.
But it occurs to you that you might already have one.
After all, Nayru IS the Golden Goddess most associated with the mind, in all its forms and facets. Surely, one of her priestesses would make for a good teacher in areas outside the duties and practices of the clergy?
It only makes sense to ask the lady you already have a reasonable working relationship with if she'd be willing - and just as importantly, able - to offer you additional lessons, before resorting to calling up a complete stranger that you'd have to broker a deal with from scratch.
As it happens, the Zora priestess is amenable to the idea, but she wants to see where you stand in terms of education, so that she can give you a fair answer about whether or not she SHOULD be teaching you, or if you'd be better-served by looking for a more advanced tutor.
So, for several days spread out over a couple of weeks, your meetings with the priestess of Nayru for religious instruction are followed by simple question-and-answer quizzes on a variety of topics, mostly related to supernatural lore. You were also particularly interested in getting actual instruction in the mental arts, so Madam Lanora tests you there, as well, using the abilities that come with being one of Nayru's servants.
In the end, the silvery-blue-skinned woman informs you that, while she could certainly help you shore up your education, your knowledge is already close to being competitive with her own understanding of various subjects, at least as they're taught in Hyrule. Your grasp of magical theory, in particular, is already as good as hers, thanks to the combination of your raw power, your exposure to Earth's more varied traditions, and of course, your inherited affinity for the subject.
As for the matter of psychic powers...
Although the Zoras are just as intelligent as any other race in Hyrule, and more inclined to rationality and logic than some, as a whole, they weren't and aren't really known for psychic powers - it was always the Hylians who were credited with such talents. Being a priestess of Nayru gives Lanora some greater-than-average affinity in that particular field, but even so, she grudgingly admits that you've already matched her in a few respects, and outright EXCEEDED her in the field of general psychic awareness.
Your ridiculous talent for sensory skills strikes again, it seems.
All things considered, it's clear that you'd be better-served by calling up a different tutor for the psychic arts, and if you're going to do that anyway, Lanora agrees that it would be a more productive use of your time and funds to go ahead and try to secure a great scholar in the bargain.
There's just one problem with that potential arrangement.
As you already noted, the overwhelming majority of Hyrule's great masters of the mental arts were Hylians, and thus potential and frankly LIKELY inheritors of "the blood of the Goddess." Those that weren't, were full-blown Sages, more than a few of whom had a history with Ganondorf. And while you can easily arrange your summoning ritual to exclude those individuals whose ancestry or personal history would risk disturbing your Curse, this would cut down on the quality of the tutors you receive.
You decide to keep Madam Lanora in reserve for the moment, and attempt a general summons for a more skilled tutor. After all, it costs you nothing but a little time and some mana to make the attempt, unless of course it works - in which case, paying for the superior teacher would be entirely worth the expense. And if it doesn't work, you still have your Nayrian priestess to fall back on.
Lanora agrees that this is quite sensible, and wishes you luck in your search before she departs for the day.
Once the priestess has left, you check the time, and decide that you've got enough of it to spare that you can fit in a summoning and negotiation period, without messing up your crowded schedule. So you go ahead and do that, adjusting the variables of the spell formula to request a psychically-skilled, academically-gifted individual that will not trigger the Curse of Demise.
As you begin the ritual, the results of past "blind" summonings flash before your mind's eye, leading you to wonder who or what it is that you'll get this time.
A Sage?
I'm looking, I'm looking!
Another Heroic Spirit?
There doesn't SEEM to be any reaction from that direction...
Or maybe something entirely new?
With you, who knows?
This time, there is no flare of golden energy, nor a pulse of dark power. Between one moment and the next, the interior of the summoning array goes from empty to... not.
Oh, you are KIDDING me!
What stands before you is a figure taller than any human, most youkai, and all but one Goron you've met in this life, though it is hunched forward slightly, as if by the first hints of age. It is clad in a long, heavy robe that conceals everything from the neck down, save for its taloned hands, which are held clasped together before its chest. From the neck up, the creature has the head of some great bird, with grey and white feathers framing a powerful beak and two large, almost luminous orange eyes, which shine with a clear, keen intellect as they look down at you.
How in Our Names did the Kid King manage to get one of THEM?
"Hmmm," the being muses, in a deep, decidedly male voice that yet rings with musical tones. "A young human, with an old soul." That almost luminous gaze shifts to your partner. "A young fairy."
Seriously, I call shenanigans.
And then the bird-man looks up, his demeanor such that you just KNOW he isn't looking at the ceiling, even before he speaks: "And the attention of three of the Radiant Ones, as well? This is a rare honor."
As it is to meet one of your people, Scion of the Ancient Travelers.
Orange eyes briefly close as the bird-man bows his head in a gesture of respect and acknowledgment, which you once again just KNOW is not directed towards anyone physically present in the chamber.
Then the bird-man's attention comes back to you. "I believe it is customary among your kind for one who calls upon another to introduce themselves...?"
Taking the cue, you bow politely. "Alexander Harris, sir."
Even if you weren't polite by nature, "sir" just seems to be the appropriate manner of address for this being. His presence is... formidable, and in a way that has nothing to do with any supernatural powers. Though he has THOSE, as well.
"Briar," your partner adds.
"In life, when walking among the humans, I was known as 'Grey Voice,'" your summoned guest says. "For what reason have you called upon my spirit, Alexander Harris?"
You explain your search for a teacher, both in the psychic arts and the more esoteric forms of academia, which your ordinary education doesn't cover.
"And so your summoning called to me," Grey Voice says. I swear, you help rescue and raise ONE hapless human orphan, and the universe marks you forever... confound you, Old Bird! This is all your fault.
"Yes, sir."
Grey Voice sighs. "While I can... understand why your ritual would have selected me, I must inform you that I am currently unable to take on students. There is an urgent matter which requires my attention."
"What sort of matter?" you ask. "If it's something I could help you with..."
"Meaning no disrespect your abilities or those that have taught you, Alexander Harris," Grey Voice says firmly, "but the issue is NOT something a child should be involved in." Not again.
For a moment, Grey Voice's presence - specifically, your sense of his mind - intensifies. It's very slight, more an upwelling of emotion and memory than any kind of clearly focused effort on his part, but it's still enough that you still feel like dropping the subject.
You frown, close your eyes for a moment, and focus on throwing off the faint psychic pressure. Fortunately, the phenomenon isn't an attack - it lacks the intensity or the sense of malicious intent you'd expect from a mental assault, which is probably half the reason why it was able to slip through your summoning circle's wards against such things.
The other half, of course, is that Grey Voice's mind is just that powerful.
Seriously, what you just experienced was basically the telepathic or telempathic equivalent of him speaking firmly to you. He didn't "shout" or even raise his "voice," he just added emphasis.
"Respectfully, sir, I have already been involved in quite a few things someone my age shouldn't have been, three of which had or have the potential to be world-ending apocalypses."
Dracula, the Grail War, and the Curse of the Demise, to be specific. The first one's been dealt with. The other two...
...works in progress.
Grey Voice regards you with an air of curiosity, his head shifting slightly to one side. "...be that as it may, it would be irresponsible of me to involve you in another potentially dangerous situation." We kept the Hatchling out of trouble at least until her adolescence... well, MOSTLY...
Again, you sense that increase of presence-
"Please don't do that."
-which abruptly halts, as Grey Voice blinks. Eh?
"You are aware of my psychic presence?" he asks slowly. Are humans supposed to have such conscious sensitivity? She did not...
"I am," you reply. "My sensory abilities are kind of... exceptional."
Some of that is our influence at work.
"...I see." The spirit hesitates for a moment, but then straightens up, radiating a faint - and this time, entirely non-oppressive - aura of resolve. "Still, that is only ANOTHER reason for you to remain... at a distance."
This time, your frown is born of concern. "So whatever you're concerned about is psychic, in nature?"
"...partly." Again, Grey Voice appears to wrestle with himself, before musing aloud, "Given your demonstrated ability, I suppose a measure of knowledge WOULD serve you better as a shield than ignorance..."
It generally does.
Grey Voice's hands have remained clasped before him this entire time. Now, he separates them and turns his palms towards the ceiling, taloned digits extended. It makes him look like he's supposed to be holding something - or perhaps offering it to you?
"Many of your years ago, a small kin-group of my people - those you might call my 'tribe' or 'flock' - settled upon a world known as Zebes. Its environment, while... tolerable, for our kind, was not the most welcoming. The surface was little more than barren rock, regularly deluged by acid rain. Most life existed underground, in the vast network of caves that riddled the crust, and much of that life was strong and fierce. To be less, most often, was to die."
"Nice place," Briar notes.
"It was not without its charm," Grey Voice says. "Still, to make things... somewhat easier on ourselves, my people created an intelligent system to provide oversight for our settlement and the nearby regions, and to assist us in our greater endeavors. We chose to name her, 'Mother.'" Defective product.
You sense another psychic buildup, and this time, it's distinct enough for you to pick out emotions.
Betrayal.
Anger.
Rejection.
"Something went wrong," you state.
Grey Voice nods once, sharply. "It took many years, but yes, in the end, Mother turned on us. She allied with a species of marauders known simply as 'Space Pirates,' and guided them in an attack on Zebes. Our homes were destroyed, and many of my kin slain - myself among them."
"I'm sorry."
"Do not trouble yourself on my account, Alexander Harris. I died fighting, denying the traitor and her allies their greatest prizes, and ensuring those of my people who lived could escape. There are far worse endings to be had - and my death was avenged in any case." A wry note enters Grey Voice's words as he adds, "Of course, it was that very vengeance which gave rise to the problem that now concerns me." How like that child, to make yet another mess that I must endeavor to clean up. Will she never grow up?
"How so?" you ask.
"Mother was no mere machine," Grey Voice tells you. "Her construction was as much organic and psychic as it was mechanical. Such was the power of her mind that it twice survived the destruction of her body, enduring for a time on the psychic plane and withstanding the threat of dissolution until new forms could be constructed for it to inhabit."
...you're getting a bad feeling about this all of a sudden.
That makes four of us.
"For a time following her latest defeat, those of us residing in the realms beyond had thought Mother finally slain," Grey Voice says. "We were... disquieted... to discover that this was, once again, not the case."
Briar sighs. "Let me guess. Somehow, she ended up here on Earth?"
The bird-headed being simply nods.
Do you have any questions to ask of or offers to make to Grey Voice here?
"Did you ever find out why 'Mother' turned on your people?" you ask Grey Voice.
"Oh, she was QUITE forthcoming with her reasons, such as they were." The alien sighs. "The purpose of Mother's creation, and thus the core of her programming, was to assist us in bringing order to the chaotic existence of Planet Zebes. At some point, she decided that 'chaotic existence' was a term that also applied to the greater galaxy, and that it was her responsibility to bring order on a much larger scale than a relatively small portion of a single remote planet. She became frustrated with what she perceived as my people's 'failure' to uphold our end of that 'agreement,' and so she sought out existences that she could utilize more effectively - thus making contact with the Pirates, and guiding them to our refuge."
Grey Voice's his beak isn't as flexible or as capable of expressing emotional cues as a human mouth, but you nonetheless get the distinct impression of a scowl.
"Even then, it was not Mother's original intention for us to perish. She was our partner, after all, and she knew and respected our talents. No, she would have had us become her generals and scientists, guiding the more numerous and aggressive Pirates as they crushed all dissent and disorder. Then, once the known universe was quieted, we would help her rebuild it to HER liking."
Okay, SOMEBODY was ambitious.
"It was only when we rejected her 'vision' - in my case, with a direct attack on her life-support systems - that Mother authorized the Pirates to use lethal force against us," Grey Voice concludes. And so enraging the Hatchling. A grave miscalculation, Mother.
You consider your next question for a moment, before asking, "Do you think she's capable of choosing a better path this time? It's a new life, after all. She doesn't have to be who or what she was before."
Grey Voice regards you curiously at that. I sense there is more to his statement than mere observation.
Oh, boy. Is there EVER.
"For a time, I did indeed entertain such a hope," the bird-man admits. "Unfortunately, for all that she is now human, Mother's current incarnation has proven to be cast from a similar mold as her previous ones." He pauses. "No, that is unfair of me. She WAS different enough at the outset for there to be some possibility of change, but her choices have led her down a similar path, to the point where she now prizes intellect, order, and the obedience of those she perceives as being beneath her." Disappointing.
Ah. "Do you know if it was it something in her environment that caused that? Or did it just... happen?"
"I watched over her as she grew," Grey Voice replies sombrely. "From a distance, that she might have her privacy and self-determination, but ready to intervene as best I could, should any malign force try to twist her. None has, at least not directly, but she became aware of the Twisted Ones that haunt this unhappy world at a relatively young age, while exploring the affinity for psychic powers her previous existence had given her. Since then, she has delved deep into her powers, at first for the protection and reassurance they could provide, but later, because she became aware of how to tap into Mother's lingering memories."
That bad feeling you had a minute ago? It's back, and it brought friends.
"I foresaw what was happening, and I attempted to intervene," Grey Voice says. And now it's not just his psychic presence that carries anger, but his knuckle-clenching posture and spoken words as well. "And the Shadowed Ones who claim authority over this world DENIED me." Fools!
Oh, yeah. Bad feeling INTENSIFYING.
"'Free will,' they said. 'Non-interference,' they claimed. Bah! As if I could not see the intent, the GREED in their minds for Mother's knowledge - for my PEOPLE'S knowledge...!" Liars! Thieves! Usurp-!
Three things happen then.
Whoa, there, Big Bird.
First, your psychic sense of Grey Voice's mind goes blank.
Take a deep breath, and dial it back.
At the same moment, the glow of the summoning diagram laid out on the mirrored floor of your extra-dimensional Hideaway intensifies, with the central circle projecting a "column" of light that reaches to the ceiling, surrounding Grey Voice like a translucent wall.
Believe me, we GET that you're ticked with some of the local Powers.
And finally, the alien being slumps within the circle, briefly closing his eyes.
But exploding at the kid isn't going to help.
"My apologies," Grey Voice sighs. "That was... uncalled for."
"I accept your apology," you say formally. "As to whether you getting angry was uncalled for... I'm not convinced it wasn't."
One orange eye opens to regard you.
"You're not the only one here that has an issue with how the local Powers run things," you tell him. "You also aren't the only other person that I-" you pause, and glance ceiling-ward "-that WE'VE run into-"
Thank you.
"-who have an issue with it. What's that saying? 'Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.'"
And that doesn't just go for the complaining about Earth's rules of mortal and divine interaction, either. This 'Mother' would be at LEAST the fourth reincarnate OTHER than yourself that you've run into in the last year, at least that you know of. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that she's the third independent instance of reincarnation you're aware of.
There's you and Khamsin.
There's Altria and Ambrose, who you know are - or were - King Arthur and Merlin, and the rest of the Drake family, who you're pretty sure account for some of the other worthies of Camelot and its era.
And now there's Mother.
Dracula doesn't count, he was resurrected by magic.
The Servants called up for the last Grail War weren't reincarnated OR resurrected, they're just summons.
You wonder if you should inform Grey Voice of your... circumstances, and how they parallel Mother's. A silent prayer is directed at the Goddesses, asking for guidance on that matter.
It's your call, kiddo.
You don't get a direct answer.
While it's somewhat - and by "somewhat," you really mean "entirely" - against your established practice to mention your status as a reincarnation, much less the reincarnation of Ganondorf, the circumstances of this particular situation makes you think it wouldn't be a terrible idea.
Among its other qualifiers, the Summoning spell you used to call Grey Voice had a clause attached to it that could basically be summed up as, "no evil beings allowed." You've gone this long without (deliberately) calling up any of the malignant, malicious, and malevolent entities that litter the cosmos, and you'd like to keep that streak going for as long as possible. At least where your search for tutors is concerned.
Just because Grey Voice isn't fundamentally or conceptually evil doesn't mean he couldn't take things you tell him in confidence and reveal them to someone else, but the respect he's shown towards the Goddesses and his reluctance to involve what he believes to be a child in a dangerous affair makes you think that he can be trusted to keep your secrets.
Plus, given the... interesting parallels between Mother's situation and your own, you think it might do the alien spirit some good to hear of your origins, and how you've been working to resist walking the same path as the King of Evil.
After all, it might convince him to help you, as he's been denied the opportunity to help Mother's reincarnation.
So you go ahead and reveal your secret.
Gained Guarded C
Grey Voice listens intently, the protective barrier of the summoning array gradually fading around him as you speak about Ganondorf. You also mention that you're aware of other reincarnations, though you add that you'd prefer not to go into detail.
"Their secrets aren't mine to tell," you say, "and their previous incarnations were a lot less objectionable than mine, or Mother's."
"That is fair," Grey Voice replies. "Although, without prying into the identities of these others, are you aware if any of them are conscious of who they used to be?" Two such instances in a generation are already enough to be suspicious. More would be...
"One might be," you tell him, thinking of Ambrose and how, unlike all the other figures you saw in that vision you experienced when you first fought Altria at full power, the wizard stone alone, with no shadow of the past behind him. "I don't think that the others are, but it's not like it's something we ever talked about, and I don't know them OR their possible past lives well enough to notice anything odd about their behavior."
You know OF the legend of King Arthur, of course. It's a major part of Western culture, and the story's been re-told often enough, across enough different media formats, that most people in the English-speaking world - and no few of the remainder, besides - probably recognize the major names involved. You certainly did, well before you found out who Altria used to be, or that "Arthur" was really a girl all along.
Those insights aside, however, your knowledge is cursory at best. You couldn't name all of the Knights of the Round Table, or even most of them, nor are you particularly aware of what King Arthur actually DID, besides pulling the Sword from the Stone and riding around being all kingly and chivalrous, way back when.
The notion of reading up on the subject hadn't really crossed your mind, and given the age of the legend and how much has been written about it over the centuries, it promises to be significant enough of a subject that you'd have difficulty fitting it into your already busy schedule.
None of which is particularly important right now.
Your decision to open up about your origin has clearly had an impact on Grey Voice, and as a bonus, it even appears to be the sort of effect that you WANTED to see. The bird-man says that this new information further explains why, out of all the spirits in creation, you were able to summon him; his people had an ancient history of violence and aggression, one that they'd gone to considerable lengths to distance themselves from and prevent a recurrence of, be it as a species or as individuals. Aiding another in a similar quest appeals to Grey Voice, especially in light of his inability to intervene with Mother's reincarnation.
That brings up a different problem, however. Given his last run-in with the Powers and their frustrating rules, Grey Voice questions whether or not he'd be allowed to teach you anything. You quickly explain the particulars of your summoning ritual, and how you've been able to secure the services of servants of your Goddesses without issue, so long as you repay them for their aid.
Grey Voice blinks at that. "What use would I have for money?" I hardly bothered with it in life!
You might be surprised.
"It doesn't have to be money, or even material goods," you say. "It can be a service. Like, for instance, helping you to make contact with Mother's reincarnation."
"I would still rather not see you involved with her," Grey Voice replies firmly. "While she does not and cannot wield the kind of psychic power her previous form did, she has developed more than enough strength and skill to be dangerous."
You pause to consider that. While your own purely psychic abilities are fairly limited, your capacity for mind magic is quite a bit greater, both in the School of Enchantment that specializes in such things, and the School of Abjuration, which has a strong sideline in defending against them. On the other hand, you've never entered into a contest of psychic powers versus magic, so you can't really say how your defenses would measure up, if someone Grey Voice considers dangerous were to take a poke at them.
You might be better-served here by acting as a middleman, tracking down an Earth-native adult with the skill and the power to stand up to any hostility on the part of Mother's incarnation, and letting them act as Grey Voice's emissary. Of course, you'd have to find such a person first - Ambrose does come to mind here, but he might be busy - and you would absolutely have to pay them. That could get pricey, unless you can work out an exchange of services, or favors...
One other option is to pay Grey Voice in material goods that would be valuable in the spirit world, and let him hire an intermediary himself, but that's probably the last-ditch reserve. Not just because Grey Voice himself doesn't seem to know what to do with such things, but also because it'd be seriously expensive.
You don't know a great deal about what can really be done with pure psychic powers, but comic books and cartoons have suggested all kinds of worrying possibilities that could apply, no matter how you go about trying to establish contact with Mother's reincarnation. A face-to-face meeting would unquestionably be the most hazardous approach, but even getting in touch via letters might not be entirely safe, if abilities like object-reading, postcognition, and long-range telepathy exist.
Grey Voice's strong reluctance for you to get involved with Mother suggests that HE thinks you'd be at some risk, and since he is a powerful psychic, you should probably take your cue from him, and plan accordingly.
As such, you go into detail about the magical preparations you can set up to make any form of contact with Mother's reincarnation easier and safer for you. You would, of course, want to extensively test such precautionary measures before making use of them, and if turned out that they weren't up to Grey Voice's standards, you could still try finding an intermediary.
On that subject, you also inform Grey Voice of your reasonably good relationship with Ambrose, as he would be your go-to option for assistance with this matter, whatever form said assistance might take.
Bringing up the wizard prompts Grey Voice to declare, "If you have contact with an adult who you believe could be of assistance in contacting Mother, I would greatly prefer that you make use of his skills as an intermediary to begin with."
You're certainly not AGAINST this idea, but you would have preferred to at least test your own skills in that matter first...?
"By your own admission, your grasp of the mind arts is limited," Grey Voice chides you. "Mother's human incarnation may not have the sheer power of her previous form, and she is still somewhat inexperienced in mental combat due to a lack of capable opponents, but in terms of pure skill, I would still count her as an aspiring master. That is not the kind of opponent you should be risking an unfriendly encounter with - and from what I have seen of her, you WOULD be risking such. She is not a... trusting individual."
With Grey Voice's firm opposition to and very reasonable supporting arguments against trying to make contact with Mother's reincarnation on your own, you agree to make use of an intermediary.
You'll start by talking to Ambrose. A quick letter via the Postman to alert him to your need of his advice, followed by taking twenty minutes out of the next time you stop by the Drake residence for a more in-depth explanation and in-person introduction to Grey Voice, is all you really need there. It won't be any hardship on your part, and if it turns out that the old man can't or won't help you himself, he might still be able to point you towards someone suited to the task.
Grey Voice approves of this plan.
You spend so much of this year focused on your studies and training that it's a wonder you find any time at all to visit your friends, much less the ones who live in different parts of the world. Yet find the time you do, thanks in no small part to your diligent use of concealable mental enhancement spells and effects, and the time you're able to take out of classes you're already passing by a large margin to do homework assignments.
Lunch and recess periods are reserved for socializing. These, and your classes at Lu-sensei's, account for the majority of the time you spend with your Sunnydale friends this year, and even then, the time is a bit curtailed, thanks to your ongoing investigations of the student body's supernatural potential. Said examination sees you getting a bit more actively involved in the school's social scene than before, and now that you're a third grader - on top of being pretty much the biggest kid in the school, as well as a world-class martial artist - a lot more people are paying attention to you and trying to get a piece of your time for themselves.
And then there's your on-again, off-again talks with the teachers about the possibility of moving up a year, and why it is (or isn't) a good idea.
The end result of all this is that, while you certainly don't IGNORE Cordelia, Amy, or Larry, you're definitely not spending as much time with them as you used to. Fortunately, you've gotten good enough at reading people's emotions and finding the right words to soothe injured feelings that nothing serious comes of it.
Gained Commanding King F (Plus)
Gained Elder King D (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Social Prowess B (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Wise King E
Your weekends this year are mostly spent visiting Wales in the mornings (which works out to the evening over there) and Japan in the afternoons (or mornings, by local time). You would be lying if you said that crossing time zones like this wasn't confusing at first, but you gradually get the hang of it.
When you're visiting the Drakes, you make a point of reaching out to Altria's sister Anna, and trying to include her in your fun - or at least to not EXclude her. The difference in age between the sisters, and thus between you and Anna, is such that if you'd been the going-on-nine year old that you truly are, this might not have worked, but the fact that you look like a boy of twelve or so and often talk like an adult proves more than sufficient to bridge the gap.
It really helps that you know as much about magic as you do, and also summon Khamsin as often as you can. Anna much prefers talking about the arcane arts and the supernatural in general to sitting around watching as you Altria have yet ANOTHER sparring match, and Altria in turn can only tolerate hearing about so much arcane lore in a sitting before she starts fidgeting. They both like horses, though, and your dark colt manages to charm them equally.
On that note, while Khamsin is still a bit too young to start being ridden, you could take this opportunity to borrow one of the Drakes' horses to get in some riding lessons when you visit, so that you aren't a complete novice when you start breaking your shadow-steed to the saddle next year. Alternately, you could leave off on that, so that the two of you can "enjoy" learning how to become horse and rider together.
You decide that it would make more sense for you to have at least SOME idea of what to do and what not to do on horseback, before trying to ride Khamsin for the first time.
As it happens, those of the Drake family and their staff who are on-hand when you broach the idea are fully in support of your idea. They also strongly recommend that you not try to train Khamsin all by yourself, but rather have it done by a professional.
"Magical bonds or no, you don't want to skimp on your horse's training any more than you would your own," Arthur Drake advises one evening. "And that goes double if you're going to ride him under combat conditions. Being thrown or kicked by a horse is no joke, even when you've got enhancement magic on your side, and if the beast himself is ALSO supernaturally-enhanced..." He trails off, grimacing.
"Speaking from experience, dear?" Lucia asks innocently.
Considering that your own knowledge of breaking a horse to the saddle is firmly rooted in Ganondorf's memories, you'd probably have ended up outsourcing Khamsin's training anyway. Not that what little you've glimpsed of the King of Evil's handling of his steed was in any way insufficient or cruel - whatever his other failings, you have the impression that Ganondorf took better care of his mount than some people do their own children - you'd just prefer not to delve into those memories.
The Drakes' advice just gives you another reason to avoid doing so.
On that note, while you're learning how to ride with help from Altria, Anna, their family's horses, and the stablehands, you also get some pointers on how to approach the first steps of Khamsin's training. This involves such things as getting him used to wearing a bridle, laying blankets that have your scent on them across his back, and just spending time with him, getting him used to the sound of your voice.
Khamsin certainly doesn't object to the latter, and his initial reaction to the blankets - pulled from your bed and sacrificed to this worthy cause when your mother bought new bedsheets - is an excited, "Look at me! I'm white and blue, now!"
He's less delighted by the bridle, but you both learn how to deal with it.
Being able to use magic to talk to your horse and get the perspective of the horses in the Drake stable, as well as the "human side" of things, proves quite helpful.
Gained Animal Handling C (C (Plus) horses)
Gained King of Beasts C (C (Plus) horses)
Gained Riding F (Plus)
You don't just call Khamsin up at the Drake Estate this year, either. It takes a little work to arrange things with the adults, but on the third Saturday in September, you keep your promise to introduce Cordelia and Larry to Khamsin, with Amy tagging along.
Cordelia suggested holding the "meeting" at the equestrian club she and her parents are part of. The club in question is based to the north of Sunnydale proper, farther out from the town than that spot in the woods you picked out to use as a teleportation hub. You visit one day in late August to get the measure of the place, and find that the combination of modest distance and the forest that lies between the facility and the Hellmouth, the atmosphere is considerably friendlier than Sunnydale itself. There's still a hint of demonic unpleasantness in the air, but what you see of the animals suggests they're all healthy and well cared for, and the members and staff of the club all appear to be human.
A small number of these prove to have magical talent, and there's a faint aura of Abjuration, Divination, and low-powered but complex Elementalism woven over the grounds - one part security system, one part environmental purification, it looks like. Nothing huge, and if you're reading it right, it's not set up to report spellcasting per se, just "intruders" and "hostility."
Cordelia is an official member of the equestrian club, if a junior one, so if she invites you to attend, the anti-intrusion ward will be handled. Calling up Khamsin doesn't take so much power that you can't conceal it, so you'd be safe from casual notice by the magical adepts. The only real concern is that someone might see the distinctive red-maned black colt, realize he wasn't from the stable, and start asking questions, but you could avoid that with a simple color-shifting Illusion and a spell to conceal magic auras.
Do you want to take the necessary precautions, and hold this meeting at the Sunnydale Equestrian Society?
There's no point in letting a perfectly good and wholly appropriate venue for your private horse and pony show go to waste, when casting a simple Spell of Illusion over Khamsin will suffice to avoid drawing unwanted attention to him or you. Visual illusions are simple enough that they require next to no effort on your part to cast, making them very easy to conceal - all the more so, when all you're going to do with this one is give Khamsin the magical equivalent of a temporary dye job.
Aside from your three friends, you decide to see if your immediate family would like to accompany you to meet Khamsin.
Zelda's answer is an enthusiastic, "YES!"
In hindsight, it's a good thing that you thought to ask about this, because if you HADN'T, and it came out that you took your friends to visit your horse without so much as as a, "Hey, Zelda," you would have had an upset little sister to deal with.
The speaking glances traded between your parents in the wake of your inquiry and Zelda's delighted reply leave you with no doubt that they are thinking along similar lines as you are. As such, the complete absence of parental objections to this outing comes as no surprise whatsoever.
On a completely unrelated note, now that Zelda's baby teeth have finished growing in, you find yourself missing the lisp she used to have. Ah, well. She's still adorable, and you'll thump anyone who says otherwise.
Back on topic, it turns out that both of your parents are available to join you on the Saturday in question. Making the visit to the Sunnydale Equestrian Society into a family outing adds a certain something, especially as you're taking half an hour or so after breakfast to get dressed up a little fancier than you normally do.
Not that there's a dress code, precisely, but it's a club full of people who are well-off enough to afford to own horses, and pay others to look after them. As a result of that, there are... certain expectations of dress and behavior, and you grasp them well enough to want your appearance to reflect well on Cordelia.
While passing your parents' room, you hear your Dad saying something about people with their noses in the air, while pulling on one of his better pairs of pants.
Your Mom asks him not to start a fight.
He agrees - with the caveat that, if anybody starts getting mouthy towards Zelda, they're going to go home with a black eye.
As it happens, while there is a noticeable tension between your folks and some of the adult club members, no fights are started, and nobody goes home with a black eye.
Cordelia's presence, in full riding attire no less, definitely contributes to that particular outcome, but your own manners - tested against such worthies as world-class martial artists, ninja clan heads, monsters that count as high-class twice over, and even minor gods - make a definite impression as well.
As far as the actual business of introducing Khamsin to your family and local friends goes, everyone is duly impressed to see you call up a horse from nowhere. It takes some talking from you, both your parents, Cordelia, AND Briar to convince Zelda that Khamsin is still too young and inexperienced to be ridden, even by a little girl - and then it takes MORE talking for you to explain that, no, you can't just summon Khamsin around the house whenever you like.
Okay, technically, you CAN do exactly that, but it wouldn't be a good idea.
Getting this across to Zelda takes time, and you find yourself very glad indeed that you brought both your parents along - though, really, it's Cordelia and her offer to let Zelda ride HER horse that saves the day.
While the girls are off attending to Zelda's first-ever riding lesson, your father studies the currently unremarkably-brown horse - "Hey, I'm all brown! Neat!" - enjoying a good brushing at your hands. Larry is helpfully distracting the nearby stablehand with questions about his job, keeping the older man a little too busy to notice that he's been plus one colt since your arrival.
"Where exactly does this guy live when he isn't visiting you, Alex?"
"In another dimension with his herd," you answer. "WHICH dimension changes from time to time, though. They move around."
"I see." Your father's bland tone tells you that no, he really DOESN'T see, but he'd prefer not to push things. "And you're planning on learning how to ride him, I take it?"
"I am."
"Is that going to be... safe?"
"As safe as learning to ride any other horse would be," you tell him. In fact, given both your bond with Khamsin and your ability to employ magic in various ways during his training, as well as for general communication, it's all but guaranteed to be considerably safer - but you're not going to say that out loud, especially when you're this close to the Hellmouth.
Murphy is always listening.
Today, however, he seems to be hard of hearing. Your visit concludes without incident, your minor uses of magic passing unnoticed via a combination of your own skills and some helpful contrivance by your friends.
On the topic of training Khamsin, you could perhaps try to make use of the Sunnydale Equestrian Society. It's local, it has all the facilities necessary for training a young horse, and becoming a member would let you spend more time with Cordelia.
There are some downsides to that idea, though. Joining the riding club would turn a fair amount of local attention your way - mundane attention, to be sure, but attention all the same - and bringing your own horse around for training would only compound that, as people would wonder where the heck you're getting the money to pay for a horse.
Cordelia informs you that her parents pay around $8,000 a year to keep her horse housed, fed, and well-cared for, and that's before her riding lessons are taken into account. Those cost close to $2,000 all by themselves. And THEN there's the cost of actually saddle-breaking a young horse, which costs $500 a month - it only takes three months or so at the outside, but still.
Even though your magical business deals have given you the means to cover that cost, $11,500 would still represent a large expense for your family, enough that you might well have trouble explaining where the money was coming from.
An alternative would be for you to make contact with the magically-talented members of the Equestrian Society, reveal your ability to summon Khamsin, and then publicly sign up for riding lessons while also quietly paying them to train him. $3,500 is still not exactly pocket change, but it would be a much easier sum to explain away, especially if you got another "big birthday present" this year.
Of course, you could always forego training Khamsin at the Sunnydale Equestrian Society altogether, and investigate other options.
Although the Sunnydale Equestrian Society has much to recommend it in the matter of training a horse, the fact remains that you're not looking to learn how to ride for personal enjoyment or as a means of showing off wealth and social status. Your goal in this is threefold: to strengthen the bond of friendship you share with Khamsin; to strengthen HIM as befits one of your allies; and to prepare the two of you to face the rigors of combat and other hardships together, in anticipation of some future day when you have need of a strong mount.
From what you've seen of them, the Equestrian Society could only help you achieve the first of those goals, and get you started on the second. Actually bringing out the full potential of a supernatural being from another plane of existence that just HAPPENS to look and act like a horse is something that you think would have been beyond them, as none of the horse in their stables showed signs of being more than mundane beasts. Some were fairly exceptional, and all bore signs of minor magics meant to protect, nurture, and make them that little bit better, but underneath all of, they were as ordinary as any creatures living so close to the Hellmouth could hope to be.
"Ordinary" will not suffice, not for Khamsin, and not for you.
Better to seek out a more qualified trainer, who can work with the two of you from the beginning, helping Khamsin to realize his full potential, and you to become a rider capable of handling such a mount.
On that subject, as the year progresses and you learn more about the basics of equestrianism during your visits to Altria's home, you give serious thought to asking her and her family for more "official" assistance in this matter. They definitely have both the required facilities and the necessary familiarity with supernatural horses, if not automatically with Khamsin's particular... breed? Species, maybe?
Well, whatever. The point is, the Drakes know how to handle magical horses, and they're on sufficiently good terms with you that you think they'd be willing to entertain your request for assistance. That just leaves the matter of proper compensation.
Unlike the Equestrian Society, learning to ride at the Drake Estate would be far enough out of the non-supernaturally-aware public's eye that you'd have no worries about using the funds you've gained through magical trade to pay for your lessons and Khamsin's training. Cash is a bit impersonal, however, and might not set the proper tone for the deal.
Altria IS a friend, after all. You don't want to come across like some kind of mercenary in this.
An alternative would be to offer some service of equivalent value to your lessons, such as item crafting or spell-weaving. While Ambrose is certainly better at such things than you are - at least for now - he's also only one person; offering to take on a minor project or two on commission for the Drakes would free the old man up to handle more urgent or important things - his research into the Holy Grail War comes to mind. You could also assist the wizard in his work more directly, by providing a supplementary source of magic, materials, and/or money, thereby saving both him and his employers time and resources.
You suppose you technically COULD just ask for the Drakes' help in training Khamsin as a favor, to be repaid at a later date, but that strikes you as leaning a bit heavily on a relationship that's not even a full year old yet.
Failing any of that, your other option is to forego training with the Drakes, and instead asking them for advice on where to find a trainer suitable to your needs.
One of your goals this year was to visit Dave Stutler, in the hopes of get to know another American sorcerer better, and also to see what kind of progress he's made on learning the necessary physical half of the energies that go into Maximum Power.
Because of scheduling limitations and conflicts, your first visit to New York City ends up taking place in mid-October. Dave sent you the coordinates for a safe, mystically-shielded, and physically out-of-the-way teleportation site - provided by his master, Balthazar - as well as firm advice to "dress warmly," and no sooner have you, Briar, and your accompanying minder Lu Tze popped into existence, than you experience sudden and honest gratitude to your fellow spellcasters.
Mid-autumn in New York is considerably colder than it is in southern California, and it doesn't help that the teleportation circle you've appeared inside of is tucked away on the roof of a rather tall skyscraper.
Not that you've appeared dangling over the proverbial abyss or anything, but the only other time you've been this far above ground level, you had a flight spell going.
Balthazar hasn't visibly or mystically changed since your meeting at the Shuzens', except that the overcoat he's wearing now doesn't have all the little silvery runes that the last one did - or at least, it isn't showing them.
Dave is another story. Instead of the Sith-like sorcerer's robe he wore to Kahlua's party, at first glance he appears to be dressed much like any other boy your age, barring the presence of the much-complained-about old man shoes. When you look a little closer, however, you realize that everything he's wearing is made out of all-natural materials, with not a hint of plastic or polyester anywhere to be seen: his brown coat is leather and has a metal zipper and buttons; the light blue sweater he's got on underneath that was knitted from wool; his black pants appear to be finely-woven cotton, and are cut to provide maximum mobility; and of course, there's the shoes.
On the mystical side of things, Dave's appearance has changed almost as much. When you met him at Kahlua's birthday party, he had the aura of a novice practitioner - one with the potential to grasp any of the major schools of magic as you know them, but also little to no practical knowledge of or command over those forces.
That was three and a half months ago.
Now, Dave has the aura of an actual sorcerer's apprentice, one who's achieved basic competence in most fields of the art. Not all of them, mind you - to your Mage Sight, he's still decidedly weak in the field of Necromancy, and almost as bad with pure Elementalism - but that's kind of understandable.
Necromancy is hands-down the creepiest of the major schools, not the least because much of the training is harder or simply not possible without access to dead bodies. You got to skip over much of the basic corpse-whispering thanks to your inherited knowledge, but Dave doesn't have that particular advantage, and Balthazar doesn't seem the type to hit up a morgue or rob a few graves for the sake of lessons.
Then again, he COULD just be waiting for an appropriate time. After all, Halloween IS coming up...
Studying Elementalism has a similar problem as learning the basics of Necromancy, in that it's easiest to train when you're out in the wilderness, surrounded by the primal elements in their most natural states. New York City is very much NOT natural. It's a concrete jungle where the air and water are both tainted by the leavings of human industry and technology. The only physical element you could really get in touch with here would be Fire, and most teachers who aren't affiliated with Din or another fire deity prefer to start their lessons with a less volatile element.
Dave notices you noticing the change in his presence, grins, and introduces himself as a Sorcerer of the Seventeenth Degree, meaning he's not only learned but mastered ten spells in the fourteen weeks since you last met face-to-face.
Not bad. Granted, most of those "spells" are likely to be mere cantrips, with one or maybe two first-circle spells, but still. Ten spells in three months is not too shabby.
Dave's attempts to learn martial arts haven't gone quite so well. As he tells you, while you're making your way down the stairwell to the nearest elevator, his mother wasn't entirely convinced that he really needed self-defense lessons. It was only about a month ago that he finally talked her into it, purely on a "trial" basis, and with a lot of conditions like not letting his grades slip and not being out late.
The good news is that Balthazar really came through in finding a martial arts teacher for him, having reached out to a man by the name of Charles Baxter. You don't recognize the name, but Lu-sensei does, and visibly approves of the selection, though he does wonder how Balthazar convinced the man in question to take on Dave.
"Charles wasn't much interested in trainining students, last I knew," your master says. "Granted, that was almost fifteen years ago, but he was old enough then to be fairly set in his ways. Did something change?"
"I helped him out of some trouble involving a warlock and an unhappy alligator eight years ago," Balthazar replies. "He agreed to owe me a favor."
"Agreeing to owe a sorcerer an unstated favor?" Lu Tze tches. "That was foolish of him."
"In his defense, it was a VERY unhappy alligator."
As it is your first-ever visit to the Big Apple, you spend a good portion of that trip playing tourist.
This one is a no-brainer.
If you're already on good terms with people who have the means to provide training to you and Khamsin, as well as very good reasons to help you out, why would you NOT ask them for their assistance?
Likewise, if you're a sorcerer, and a situation comes up where you can pay an outstanding monetary debt by spending a few days casting spells and crafting magic items, why NOT do that? Particularly when you know that the people who will be receiving and making use of your works are honorable, well-meaning, and not given to abusing power for petty or malicious ends?
...discounting Ambrose, anyway.
Leaving the questionable intentions of the wizard aside, you speak with Altria and her parents about the possibility of formal training, in exchange for magical support.
It's a trade they are perfectly happy to make.
Gained How To Train Your Magical Horse Priority
Enough TV shows and movies are set in New York for you to know about a number of potentially-interesting locations, from the Statue of Liberty to Central Park to the Empire State Building. You could actually see a few of said landmarks from your rooftop landing point.
That said, your experiences in Tokyo have wised you up to the fact that navigating in big cities is far more complicated and time-consuming than moving around the sort of quiet little town that Sunnydale portrays itself to be. And while traveling from the West Coast to the East results is much more forgiving than crossing either ocean, resulting in a mere three-hour time difference, you are still expected home in time for supper by your parents.
Better to let your two local guides set the pace and choose the destinations for this particular visit.
As it happens, Dave wants to take you back to his place, so that you can meet his mom, "And maybe help me get her more comfortable with the idea of her little boy learning martial arts and how to warp reality with his brain."
"Later, Dave," Balthazar interjects. "I want to stop by the Cabana, first."
The what, now?
"It's his magic shop," Dave explains. "And his house. And my place of strange and unusual torment."
"There would be less torment if you paid more attention to your lessons, Dave," Balthazar says.
"Notice how he doesn't deny the 'strange and unusual' part," Dave retorts.
The senior sorcerer smiles and promptly ignores the remark, instead pointing up the street. "My car is this way."
Balthazar directs you to the second level of a multi-story car park, and when you get close enough to see his car as anything more than a silvery shape, you have to stop and stare.
You recognize it.
Not the specific model, but that hood ornament is... distinctive.
"That's a Rolls Royce," you say, pointing at the car and looking up at your master, and then to Balthazar. "You have a Rolls Royce."
"I have a Rolls Royce," Balthazar agrees, with a decidedly pleased expression. "A 1935 Phantom II, to be exact."
"It is a beauty," Lu Tze admits, even as he squints at the vehicle, "but is it big enough to hold all four of us?"
Balthazar pauses, looks at his car, then at your group, and then back at his car.
"...give me just a minute."
Mr. Blake walks over next to the car, rests one ring-bearing hand atop the chassis, and then bows his head slightly and closes his eyes.
An aura of powerful Transformation Magic wells up within and around the man in the black duster, and the vehicle under his hand promptly changes, rippling and flowing and STRETCHING at the rear. When the magic ends, mere seconds later, the Phantom now includes rear doors and a back seat - with a leather-upholstered and wood-paneled interior, you note, as Balthazar swings the doors open.
He quirks an eyebrow. "Shall we?"
You stare at him for a moment.
The sorcerer smirks.
With an effort, you clamp down on your urge to demand details about the spell Balthazar used to transform his car.
Yes, it was clearly a specialized piece of magic, and yes, knowing how it works would be a boon to your previously-considered plan of helping your father and uncle out at the garage - and YES, you really do WANT to know how he did that-!
You let out a breath and dial back on your... enthusiasm... by firmly reminding yourself that making demands of sorcerers almost never ends well. Manners go over much better.
"That was a very nice spell, sir," you begin, as your group begins climbing into the stretched Phantom. "What's it called?"
"It's formally known as 'A Spell for the Efficaceous Transformation of Automobiles and Other Motorized Vehicles,'" Balthazar replies, sliding into the driver's seat. He turns the key, and the Phantom's engine comes to life with a low growl. "Most people just call it the Car Spell."
As Balthazar drives you out of the car park and then to his shop-cum-residence, he calmly answers your questions about the Car Spell. It was created in 1930, by a sorcerer who greatly appreciated the convenience provided by motor vehicles, but did not care for the expense of the things, especially the luxury models he considered "worthy" of his "greatness."
"The less-than-sterling character of its creator aside, the Car Spell spread pretty fast," Balthazar admits. "It really is very convenient for keeping a car in good working order, which in turn makes it much easier for a sorcerer to get around without drawing attention or constantly expending magic. And the effectiveness of the spell is as reliant on the caster's knowledge of automotive mechanics, metallurgy, chemistry, and related fields as it is on raw power. If you want to drive around in something like this" - he takes one hand off the steering wheel to indicate the Phantom around you - "you have to put in the time and study to understand it."
Makes sense. Good thing you've been visiting the garage and reading up on those topics...
You also inquire about more general "automotive magic," ranging from basic cleaning and maintenance to in-depth diagnostics and repairs. Balthazar proves to know quite a bit on the topic - "Prerequisites for learning the Car Spell, really." - although he also adds that he doesn't use most of them very much, prefering to conduct regular maintenance with his hands.
Dave gives his master a look that says he doesn't get WHY, but after your visits to Uncle Rory's garage and hanging out with your Dad at the house after school and on weekends, you can kind of get where Mr. Blake is coming from. Personal satisfaction aside, doing that sort of work manually on a regular basis would help the sorcerer to visualize what he's doing when a situation comes up where the speed of magic is required.
Plus, there's the whole "Power calls to Power, so don't use magic when you don't need to" lesson coming through again. A magically-maintained car would be that much more likely to encounter magical problems, which in turn would increase the chances of requiring magical solutions - especially repairs - thus further raising the rate of supernatural incidents, and just rapidly spiralling into a massive inconvenience.
The drive to Balthazar's is only about ten minutes, and he doesn't go into too much detail about any given spell that he mentions, but you still glean some useful tidbits from the conversation before the Phantom comes to a stop.
As you exit the car, you give your surroundings the usual once-over. The neighborhood around you is dominated by tall, narrow buildings, averaging five stories in height. Most have small shops on the ground level and what appear to be residential apartments higher up, although you can see a few signs indicating offices instead. Everything's clean and well-maintained, but the way so many of the buildings are placed wall-to-wall, forcing fire escapes to be built right over the sidewalks, lends a certain claustrophobic feel to the place.
Balthazar has parked in front of a building that doesn't quite fit with its surroundings. For one, it's only about four stories tall, with an uppermost level that looks more like an attic with windows than a proper floor, thus making the whole structure seem smaller than its nearest neighbors. In addition, where those buildings are modern, or nearly so, favoring pale - if not exactly bright - colors for their facades, Balthazar's residence follows an older style and darker hues, giving it a dingy, almost decrepit appearance.
After locking the car, Balthazar walks up the front door, which opens with a light touch and a small pulse of mana. In that moment, you can sense a warding system set up around the building, but the aura comes and goes so quickly that you can't pick out any specifics. All you know is that it's there, and it's strong.
Standing within the threshold, Balthazar turns to face you, and performs a formal, almost courtly bow. "Master Lu Tze. Mister Alexander Harris. Briar. Welcome, to the Arcana Cabana."
As you accept the invitation and enter the building, you quickly find that the interior matches the outside. The walls are covered in shelves, and what looks like three-quarters of the already limited floorspace has likewise been claimed by cabinets, tables, and the counter display - and every INCH of those surfaces is covered by a collection of positively random clutter, some of which has spilled over to take up even MORE room.
Befitting the name of the store and the nature of its master, there's a certain eldritch theme among the junk, as you can see: skulls both human and animal; sealed bottles of uncertain powders, liquids, and small items, each labeled with spidery writing; MANY books; several crystal balls; large jars, closed boxes, and chests, all decorated with fantastical shapes; and the odd statuette or full-on idol, including a griffon of carved wood nearly as tall as you are, standing on a plinth just inside the door.
Much of this stuff is mundane clutter, but there are also auras of magic clinging to quite a few of the shop's wares.
Light is provided by a mix of iron-bound electric lamps hanging from the ceiling and walls, and by a large glass roof that runs the length of the first floor.
All in all, the Arcana Cabana puts you in mind of Gen's shop, only with a distinctly Western feel.
Would you like to inquire about any of the wares?
After the look you got at Ambrose's workshop, the fact that Balthazar doesn't have a stuffed crocodile hanging from the rafters in here strikes you as somehow wrong.
Then again, this IS just the storefront. He could always have a properly-outfitted workshop on one of the upper floors, in the basement, or in a dimensional pocket adjacent to the building.
In any case, you decide not to comment about that.
As for the sorcerous items that ARE present in the Arcana Cabana, and which give off auras of actual magical power - as opposed to the mere magical potential of the contents of the various jars, and some of the other clutter - you find your attention most strongly drawn to the books.
Heading straight for the largest of the shelves, you note that all the books have the appearance of proper tomes and librams - huge hardcover affairs bound in leather and wood, bearing ornate lettering in silver and gold, and each kept firmly shut by at least one large clasp. Most have two such locks. In addition, the volumes are chained to highly-polished rails that run the length and breadth of the shelves.
Even from the entrance, you could sense the minute pulses of mana running through those obvious, if seemingly archaic security precautions - the arcane equivalent of a Faraday cage grounding out a live current. As you draw nearer, you feel your skin start to prickle, and can almost hear-
come closer
-actually, check that.
unlock us
There's no "almost" about it.
open us
You CAN hear a faint chorus of whispers, coming from the books with the strongest auras.
read us
Especially the ones that feel of Enchantment, Necromancy, and Summoning.
Some of the sealed tomes are murmuring to you in Latin, while others "speak" in archaic English. You can pick out a few other languages besides those two, but nothing you recognize through the hushed, repetitive chanting.
Gained English C (Plus)
Gained Latin C
Gained Listening B
"Okay," Briar says. "That's not creepy at all."
"Right there with you, Briar," you agree.
Balthazar regards you with interest. "You can hear them?"
"Hear who?" Dave asks.
"I can, sir," you say.
"...wait, the books?"
"That's... interesting," the sorcerer says. "That's very interesting."
"The books are talking, now?"
"Yes, Dave," Balthazar answers. "The books are talking now. The books are ALWAYS talking. That's why I have them secured like this." He gestures at the bar-lined shelves. "They WANT to be read, and given that a lot of the rituals in these particular volumes call upon external sources of magic, they don't need to be read by a sorcerer. Though they do prefer one, when they can catch him."
Dave looks from his teacher, to the shelf, and gulps. "...so you're telling me you've basically got the Necronomicon and a bunch of its cousins on display."
"Oh, none of those is a copy of the Necronomicon," Balthazar assures the boy. "Or anything nearly so nasty."
"...faintly reassuring," the apprentice admits.
Balthazar smirks. "I keep those books in the cellar vault."
"...soooo much less reassuring," Dave groans.
The elder sorcerer turns back to you, and nods towards the bookshelf. "Would you like to borrow one?"
What, just like that?
You consider the books for a moment. Even through the power-sink bindings, their auras are comparable to unshielded, constantly-active third-circle spells, and you'd guess that whatever power runs through the tomes is a level or two higher than that. Most of their auras are clearly dominated by the colors of one particular school of magic, and all the schools as you know them are represented. There's also another book that has a non-specific feel about, which you think must be dedicated to generalist magic.
What's his game, here?
"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Blake," you say earnestly, "but I think I will pass."
"May I ask why?"
"The whispering is creepy," you admit. "I don't really fancy the idea of carrying something like that around in my pocket all the time, and I don't have any place that I'd feel safe leaving it unattended. Beyond that? The idea of taking a book of rituals that call on external powers that WANTS to be read to the Hellmouth strikes me as a bad idea."
Balthazar nods. "All good reasons."
Then he reaches up to one of the higher shelves and takes down a book that looks newer and smaller than the others, and which wasn't chained down. Even after Balthazar has removed it from the suppressive field of the bars, the book's aura is quite faint, no more than a first-circle spell. It feels of Abjuration, Augmentation, and Transformation.
"The locked-down books are part of my security system," Balthazar explains. "I have them enchanted to be... especially appealing to people who come in here with malicious intentions. If such a person were to steal one of those books, it would guide them to perform a ritual that would at first APPEAR to give them what they desired, but would instead cause them considerable consternation, via small-scale hauntings, low-level persistent bad luck, a sudden localized rain of toads - that kind of thing. The problems would go on until the thief learned their lesson and either confessed to or undid their evil, at which point the book would return here."
"And if someone bought one of the books, or accepted it as a gift?" you ask dryly.
"If their intentions were still malicious, the same thing," Balthazar replies. "But as long as they used the information within wisely, and for the benefit of others at least as much as themselves, the spells would work without issue." Glancing at the texts, he adds, "Though the books might throw the occasional mischief spell into the mix to keep themselves entertained."
The books on the shelves shiver, and through the rustle of pages and the light rattle of chains, you hear a faint chorus of whispery laughter.
"This one isn't enchanted for anything except resistance to wear and tear and minor environmental hazards," the sorcerer tells you, holding up the book in his hand. "Consider it a thank-you gift, for giving Dave a peer he can measure himself against, as well as complain to about how evil my lessons are."
Dave starts to object, pauses in thought - clearly recalling the contents of various letters he's sent to you over the last few months - and then closes his mouth with a sigh.
Balthazar holds out the book so you can read the title:
The Infernal Combustion Engine: An Introduction to Automotive Magic.
"Despite the name, it has nothing to do with demons or devils," Balthazar assures you.
Well, that's good to know.
This little judgment test and gift-giving session isn't the only reason Balthazar wanted to swing by his shop. Saying that he needs to make a short call, the sorcerer heads for the stairs half-hidden at the back of the room, leaving you, Briar, and Lu-sensei in the front room for the moment with an invitation to browse his wares, and Dave with a suggestion to call his mother and let her know she's about to have guests, as well as a reminder not to unleash any evil sorcerers.
"It was one time!" the boy protests, even as he moves for the shop-counter, where an old-fashioned phone sits. "And it was months ago!"
There's a story there, you know, and you're pretty sure you heard the opening lines of it back at Kahlua's birthday party, when Dave mentioned a "Grimhold" and "that jerk Hovarth" to you and Altria, a passing reference regarding his brief, one-and-only meeting with Ambrose.
You have a few minutes before Balthazar returns.
You graciously accept Balthazar's gift.
Gained The Infernal Combustion Engine
"This will be a big help, thank you," you say, as you tuck the book away inside your dimensional pocket for later consideration. "My uncle owns the garage where he and my father work, and I've been trying to adapt some of my more 'traditional' spells to help them out."
Balthazar nods. "I heard a little about that from Ambrose. Well," he clarifies, when you react with momentary surprise, "it's more that I heard the old man ranting about your idea to improve your family's finances by magically repairing and restoring cars, asking himself 'why did I never think of that?' and complaining about how he couldn't USE the idea himself, because studying up on cars to adapt his old spells and learn the new ones would take too long, and because Lord Drake would immediately want him to help keep up the family cars and such."
You blink at Balthazar.
On the one hand, you're a little concerned that Ambrose is talking to other people about you without letting you know first, even when the other person is someone you know of and have a certain level of trust towards.
On the other hand, the idea of Ambrose's frustrated envy of your idea pleases you.
And on the MAGICAL hand, there's a hint of something in Balthzar's words.
"You didn't show Ambrose the book," you state slowly, as you absently pat your right pocket.
Balthazar shrugs innocently. "He didn't ask."
Briar starts giggling.
Fighting down a smile, you wonder if you should take your cue from Balthazar, and keep this particular secret from Ambrose, or if you should take mercy on the old wizard and let him in on your newfound knowledge.
You know, AFTER you've had a chance to study the book yourself.
That star-spangled hat under the glass bell-jar has caught your attention, but even as you're walking towards it for a closer - and strictly hands-off - inspection, your curiosity about another matter demands to be satisfied.
"So what's this about 'the one time'?" you ask Dave, glancing over at the counter, where he's struggling to work the truly archaic dial. It's not just a matter of unfamiliarity with the design; from the way the mechanism resists being turned, it must be slightly rusty, or otherwise gummed up by dust and grime.
"Oh, that," Dave groans. "I think I mentioned Horvath to you before, right?"
"In passing," you agree. "Back at Kahlua's birthday."
"Yeah, the scary vampire princess... I still can't believe you gave her METAL GLOVES for a present, much less let her HIT you with them. Was that just a monster thing, or is a martial arts thing?"
You consider that, and shrug. "A bit of both, really."
"Why did I want lessons, again...?" Dave asks of no-one in particular, before answering his own question, "Oh, right, the awesome glowy stuff." He shakes his head. "Anyway, it was the first day I met Balthazar. There was a school field trip, I got split up from the class and ended up in here. Balthazar was being all cryptic and dramatic and 'magic is real, Dave,' and 'if this ring likes you, you can keep it'-"
The green jewel of the ornate little ring Dave wears on his right index finger flashes as he waves his hand.
"-and then, right after the ring made it clear that yes, it DID like me, he took off into the back stacks for a minute, and, uh, well... I MAY have kind of, sort of, ignored his warning not to touch anything, and taken an ancient magical prison full of evil sorcerers down, letting one of them out by accident." Dave coughs, and quickly adds, "As a swarm of cockroaches that sort of... melted together into a man. Can I just say, ick?"
You consider what that must have looked like, and have to agree.
"So, there I am, face-to-face with a really well-dressed guy who used to be a few thousand cockroaches that came out of a nesting doll that could not POSSIBLY have held them all, and he asks me 'when am I?' like he wants to know what the weather's like, and when I tell him he's in New York, he gets all menacing - and Horvath does menacing REALLY well, let me tell you - and then Balthazar came in and they started trying to kill each other. Oh, hey, Mom!" Dave says abruptly. "Yeah, I'm over at the shop... yes, my friend's here... no, we're not trying to make him buy anything..."
Heh.
Leaving Dave to discuss things with his mother, you focus your attention on the hat.
At first glance, it appears to be a simple conical, brimless piece of felt, with several simple stars and a single crescent moon for decoration - the sort of thing you'd find in a kiddie costume shop. Now that you're closer, though, you can see much more subtle runes hidden within the obvious shapes, and tiny pinpricks of silver, looking almost like a real-life starfield when contrasted against the dark blue material. As with Balthazar's locked-down books, the hat gives off a faint aura of magic - equivalent to a first-circle spell - that feels as though it should be considerably stronger. Looking at its container, you see that the base of the jar is latched to the stand in four separate places, each one another example of fairly elaborate metalwork, crawling with grounded-out magical energy. There are no labels or arcane marks on the wooden stand or the glass, and the aura of the entire thing feels decidedly generic, at least to a passive inspection.
"Okay, see you then," Dave says, catching your attention once more. "Yes. Yeah, love you, too. Bye, Mom. Yes. Bye. Goodbye." Hanging up the phone, Dave leans on the counter with a sigh, and then raises his head to meet your gaze. "Does your Mom insist on telling you she loves you in that really embarrassing tone, like you're still four years old, or is it just mine?"
"Anyway," Dave asks, "where was I again?"
"Horvath and Balthazar trying to kill each other," Briar helpfully supplies.
"Right! So, there they are, throwing plasma bolts and fire around, using telekinesis to blow each other through half the shop, and use the rest as ammo. Horvath did this thing where he animated a sword to fight for him" - Dave waves one arm around to illustrate - "and, yeah, evil sorcerer or no, that was kind of cool. But here I was in the middle of all this, trying not to get blasted, fried, pincushioned, or just stepped on." Dave throws up his hands. "And then Balthazar grabbed Horvath and sucked them both into some OTHER kind of magical prison device, leaving me alone in a building that was catching fire. So, I ran for it."
"And Ambrose showed up a week later?" you say, recalling Dave's prior statements.
The other boy shudders. "Yeah, he came to my school after classes were over, dropped Balthazar's name, and made me give him the whole story. Then he pretty much abducted me, brought me back here - the place was a LOT less burned down than I was expecting - and let Balthazar and Horvath out of the urn they were stuck in." Dave pauses, and snickers. "I have to admit, the whole being kidnapped by a scary old man experience was almost worth it, just for the LOOKS on their faces when they saw him."
"Oh?"
Dave adopts an expression of wide-eyed, slack-jawed, shaking-finger-pointing shock. "'You're dead!'"
And then he turns around, shifting to a look of smug amusement that is pure Ambrose. "'I got better.'"
You snort at that, because you can totally see Ambrose responding to such a significant charge in such a glib manner, as well as taking the opportunity to rip off Monty Python in the process - and Dave hits the British pseudo-peasant accent perfectly.
Dave resumes his own character. "And then Horvath tore out of here like HE was on fire, or was expecting to be, very shortly. Ambrose let him go, and Balthazar wasn't really in any shape to chase him."
Now you have to frown. "So this guy was a sorcerer bad enough that somebody decided he needed to be locked up for years, decades, or even centuries-"
"Decades," Dave explains. "I asked Balthazar about it later, and he said he locked Horvath in the Grimhold during the 1920s."
You nod, accepting that. "-and Ambrose just let him go?"
"Balthazar had a few things to say about that, too, once he was over the shock," Dave agrees. "Quiet, strained, angry things."
You can imagine.
"Then Ambrose thumped him over the head with his walking stick, threw a silencing spell up around the two of them, and said some things that really knocked Balthazar for a loop. I still don't know what, though; Ambrose walked out of here right after that, telling me to 'study hard' and 'try not to wake up any more sealed evils,' and Balthazar put me to work helping him clean up the shop."
"He won't hear about it from me, then," you tell Balthazar.
He nods. "Good to know we're on the same page, Alexander."
The pair of you exchange the sort of smile that can only exist between those who have shared a unique form of suffering, and who are very much looking forward to paying it back.
"I feel like I should be protesting that remark," Briar says idly, in response to your words, "and yet, I can't help but agree with you..."
Dave gives you a wary look. "I'm not sure I want to know, but I'll ask anyway: what does Briar's mother do?"
You proceed to explain, in summary, about your first meeting with Navi, and how she flung you into a minor parallel dimension to face a series of character-testing trials that involved a great deal of potential personal injury.
In fairness to Navi, you do include her concerns about the Hellmouth-forged, pseudo-familiar bond you had with Briar, but not a mention of Ganondorf passes your lips.
It's not like Navi KNEW that you were the King of Evil's reincarnation, until your evil reflection tried to climb out of her magic mirror. If she'd even SUSPECTED who and what you were before pitching you into the Silent Realm, you think that the trials you faced there would have been a LOT more severe.
As you speak, your one-boy audience's eyes go wide.
"And just like that, I have a newfound appreciation for embarrassing moms," Dave says.
Dave's mention of a "nesting doll" draws your attention to the magically-active example of that very art-form currently sitting on one of the shelves. It's not even on a HIGH shelf, or under warding bars or glass like the books and the hat, it's just out there in the open, within easy reach of any curious visitor.
The fact that it's colored ORANGE just makes it that much more of an attention-grabber.
Your eyes are good enough to make out the image painted - or maybe not? - on the brightly-colored outermost doll: a man with Oriental features, his hair shaved close to the scalp but for a topknot, and with a yellow robe or other garment hanging from his shoulders. The other distinctive feature of the effigy are the man's hands, which are held before him, left hand over right with palms facing towards the chest.
Black lines extend from the tips of each finger. You're not sure if they're meant to represent folds in the sorcerer's outer garment as he grasps it, or if the man is supposed to have claws.
As Dave concludes his tale, you point at the Matryoshka doll and ask, "Please tell me THAT isn't the magical prison full of ancient evil sorcerers."
"It's not," Dave replies with full seriousness. "It LOOKS like the Grimhold, and it probably FEELS like the real thing-"
"'Probably'?" you interrupt.
"I didn't know how to read magic auras that whole first week," Dave explains. He waggles his right hand back and forth, adding, "I'm still only so-so at it."
You nod. It's one of the fundamental skills of a practitioner of any style, but like any other ability, reading auras does take some work to truly master.
"-but that's just a decoy," the other boy continues. "Balthazar hid the ACTUAL Grimhold... somewhere." Dave gestures around at the Arcana Cabana - not just the shop, but the entire building. "He didn't say where, and after what happened the FIRST time I got near the thing, I haven't asked."
Ah. Well, that's a relief.
Granted, you're stil a little concerned that Balthazar left the pint-sized prison for ancient evil sorcerers just sitting where any curious kid could get ahold of it in the first place, but if the elder sorcerer has had custody of the Grimhold for most of the last century - or even longer than that - you can see how he might have gotten a little... lax... in his handling of the thing. Especially if there hadn't been any incidents relating to that particular item, or the shop as a whole, for much of that time.
With that little concern cleared up, you decide to tell Dave about some of the events you've gotten caught up in since your last meeting, in more detail than what your letters could convey.
Dave proves VERY interested to hear more about your Familiar Binding Ritual. He explains that he's not ready to summon a familiar of his own yet-
"I've never even had a PET before, much less tried to live with a small creature smart enough to have its own opinions and talk to me. Plus, you know, New York. Not exactly a WELCOMING environment for a lot of animals or tiny magical creatures, and the ones that DO live here... well, I'd rather not bond with a rat or a pigeon, thank you very much."
-but Balthazar has had him studying the basic ritual, and if there were ways to improve on that, and thus on the quality and capabilities of the familiar, Dave would really like to know about them.
You think back to all the preparations you made for your own Familiar Binding Ritual: the places you visited; the reagents you gathered; the people and things you met, and occasionally fought against...
It occurs to you that you've still got a few unused reagents in your dimensional pocket, and that the Laws of Magic would allow for you to make a gift of one of them to Dave without compromising their value as ritual components.
You decide not to give Dave one of the reagents you still carry on your person, at least not yet. By his own admission, the other boy-sorcerer is still some time away from being ready to summon a familiar, and to the best of your knowledge and sensory skills, he doesn't currently have a dimensional pocket or other secure and mystically-clean space to store his own magical materials.
Handing over a reagent might be a gesture of friendship in theory, but in Dave's current circumstances, there's a good chance that the potency of the reagent in question would have degraded or been cross-contaminated by the time he got around to using it.
Better to hold on to your components for the time being.
That said, you have no compunctions against sharing your own knowledge of and experience with preparing for and performing the Familiar Binding Ritual. Though you do make a point of explaining that gathering items of rarity and significance from all over the world isn't actually NECESSARY, at least not for the customary, beginner-level familiar bond that Dave has apparently been studying. You went to those lengths because you were trying to make a bond with Briar, who is a more powerful and intelligent being than the animals which account for the majority of familiars, because you yourself were considerably more powerful than most sorcerers are when they summon their first familiar, and because you needed to break your pre-existing Hellmouth-forged pseudo-bond and clear out the corruptive gunk it left behind.
And there may have been an element of showing off involved, besides.
Dave asks a few pertinent questions, but for the most part, he is silent, listening intently and committing your words to memory.
If you happen to take this opportunity to recommend he look into a fairy partner, well, they ARE the best.
And you're not just saying that because Briar is right there.
At least, not entirely.
You have quite a lot to say on the subject of familiars, so you aren't really surprised that Balthazar comes back downstairs before you're finished. The senior sorcerer does a once-over of his shop, nods to himself at its unchanged state, and briefly joins Dave in listening to you hold forth. When you pause to more openly include the master magic-user in your conversation-turned-lecture, Balthazar merely says that he's done here, and you can head to the Stutler home whenever you're ready.
Do you have any final questions about the Arcana Cabana or its wares, before you go?
"Three questions, before we go," you say.
"Go on," Balthazar replies.
"First, what's with the hat?" As you speak, you half-turn and point towards the star-spangled headpiece.
"It belonged to a sorcerer named Yen," Balthazar replies. "Good man. Bit of a conservative when it came to personal style, though."
"Oh?" Lu-sensei speaks up.
"Take that hat, put it on the head of a man about so tall" - Balthazar indicates a point just about level with the top of his own head - "wearing robes of the same design, and with a huge beard." He gestures again, drawing one hand down from his chin and more than halfway to his waist.
"So, basically like Ambrose in his full wizard get-up," Briar concludes.
"Sort of," the sorcerer admits wryly. "Yen wasn't as powerful as Ambrose, but he was a lot more... restrained. On the other hand, he DID end up turning his hat into a primary focus, so..."
"I thought our rings were our focus," Dave says.
"They are, but that's because the combination of mystically-conductive metals, elementally-charged gems, and some very fine runework makes them every bit as powerful as a lot of larger focuses. The fact that we wear them on our hands, which are a human being's primary means of manipulating the physical world around him, just adds to their effectiveness."
Dave nods slowly, regarding his own ring with a thoughtful expression.
"In addition," Balthazar goes on, "rings are small and common in the general population, so they don't immediately mark you out as a magic-user the way wands, staves, rods, or magic hats would. Slap on a minor illusion to make it look like all you're wearing is a bit of unenchanted brass, and even the thieves will leave you alone."
At that, Dave looks up sharply. "There's a spell for hiding the rings."
It's not a question.
"There is."
For a moment, Dave seems like he's going to yell, or laugh, or have SOME kind of emotional outburst, but he manages to limit himself to glaring at his master.
"I want to learn that spell, Balthazar."
The elder sorcerer smiles. "Say 'please,' Dave."
"...please."
Balthazar nods. "Later. Alexander, you had two more questions?"
"Uh, yeah. The second one was regarding something I noticed - or more like DIDN'T notice - earlier, and I was wondering: no stuffed crocodile?"
Dave blinks and looks at you like he thinks you've suddenly gone nuts.
"I keep the Son of Sobek upstairs," Balthazar answers. "I tried putting him on display down here, back when I first opened the shop, but the ASPCA made such a nuisance of themselves over it that I had to move him."
And now Dave is giving his master a bewildered look.
"Balthazar," he says slowly, "WHY would you have a stuffed crocodile? Where would you even GET one?"
"That particular one came from the Nile, about six hundred years ago," Balthazar informs his student. "A sorcerer pacted with some of the Egyptian gods bred the beast as a combination of exotic pet, personal enforcer, and tool of extortion. 'Pay me my tribute, or the Son of Sobek will sink your boats and gnaw your bones.'" He shakes his head.
"The old protection racket, done with an Ancient Egyptian flair." Lu-sensei sighs. "Sometimes I despair of people's lack of originality. Then I consider how troubling it would be if ALL the villains came up with truly unique plots, and I find myself quite comforted that they tend to be such hacks."
"There is something to be said for monotony," Balthazar agrees. "As for why I kept him, it's traditional. No magical lab or shop is complete without a stuffed crocodile hanging from the ceiling."
Dave stares back and forth between the two of you. "Alex," he says, "please don't tell me YOU have a stuffed crocodile hanging up in your house."
"I actually don't have a crocodile anywhere in my house," you admit frankly. "Stuffed or otherwise."
Dave looks relieved to hear this.
"That said," you go on, "I'd need to have a permanent workshop, first, before I could hanging anything up in it."
Balthazar frowns. "You mean you don't have a lab yet?"
"Not as such," you reply. "Not unless borrowing the kitchen to brew an Ointment of True Seeing or a Potion of Blindness count...?"
"You can make magic potions?" Dave asks with interest. "Wait, you make magic potions in your kitchen?"
"You CAN brew most potions in a kitchen," Balthazar admits. "At least, you can if you have all the reagents to hand. That said, most practitioners prefer not to work with potentially toxic and/or volatile substances in the same place where they store and prepare their food."
You wince at that. While the two sorcerous mixtures you've cooked up thus far were both safe, whether as ingredients, during the mixing process, or as finished products - as long as nobody actually drank the Potion of Blindness, that is - you are aware of a number of potion formulas that require substances you would not want to see contaminating your family's meals.
This just gives you another reason to purchase the materials for a proper workshop.
Speaking of purchases, though...
You inquire of Balthazar what exactly he sells, and - in relation to your previous topic of discussion - whether or not any of it would be helpful for you in setting up your own workshop.
As it happens, the Arcana Cabana has a little catalogue of goods that are both generally-available and suitable for shipping. Balthazar hands you a copy of the booklet, free of charge, as you're all leaving the store, and goes on to describe some of the "special orders" that he handles for clients who've established themselves as trustworthy.
Gained Arcana Cabana Mail Order Catalogue
As you listen and leaf through the booklet, that earlier similarity between the Arcana Cabana and Gen's comes back to you in spades, only now it's more about the shop OWNERS than the stores themselves. Like your Japanese partner, Balthazar has a network of contacts who keep him supplied with spell components and minor magical paraphernalia, while his own personal efforts bring in more significant items; the difference is that, as a sorcerer of considerable power, Balthazar has access to parts of the market that Gen only knows of through rumors.
Certainly, in the months you've worked with Gen thus far, you've never once seen his store playing host to a magic item so powerful that it needed to be kept under lock and key, much less magic-suppressing seals. And yet Balthazar had a score of such things, deliberately set up to attract thieves and ne'er-do-wells.
You think you're going to want to come back to this shop, once you have some actual spending cash on hand.
The drive to Dave's house from the Arcana Cabana takes about half an hour. All told, it's nearly eleven o'clock, local time, when you arrive outside the two-story brick-walled townhouse, one of dozens of such buildings that line both sides of the street. It'd be very easy to overlook the Stutler residence, but for three things.
First, while the rest of the neighborhood appears content to make do with a few decidedly weedy-looking trees growing at regular intervals along the sidewalk and the odd potted plant on the windowsill, there's a full-fledged garden growing atop Dave's house.
Second, where every other house on the block is perfectly mundane as far as you can tell, the Stutler residence is warded. The defenses are subtle, and you don't think they're as strong as the ward Ambrose set up over your house, but they're definitely there. Balthazar's work, you suspect.
Lastly is the music. It's faint, but you can just make out the sounds of a full-blown symphony orchestra playing inside Dave's house - or rather, a recording of such.
Lu-sensei pauses as he's getting out of Balthazar's parked car, and cocks his head at angle. "Is that the Ode to Joy I hear?"
"Yeah, Mom likes the REALLY old music," Dave sighs.
"It's called 'classical music,' Dave," Balthazar corrects mildly. "And you could stand to develop an appreciation for it."
"Oh, now don't YOU start... wait, what am I saying? You were probably there when most of this stuff was written."
"I did attend some of the premieres," Balthazar admits.
You blink at that.
How old is he, again?
"Well," Dave says, before you can inquire about that, "come on inside, and I'll introduce you to my Mom. Oh, and Alex? Fair warning, she may try to hug you. She's very... friendly."
Your enthusiastic response leaves Dave blinking.
"...okay, then, never mind."
Shaking his head, your fellow sorcerer walks up the front step of his house, produces a key, and fiddles with the lock for a moment. As the door swings open, he calls inside, "I'm home, Mom!"
"Davey!"
*WHUMPH!*
"Welcome home!" a surprisingly young-looking woman says, as she half-smothers Dave. "I missed you."
Dave's muffled reply sounds like, "Missed you, too, Mom," although it could also be, "It was just a couple of hours," or "We talked half an hour ago."
Then again, he might also be saying, "Somebody save me from this madwoman," "Mom, I still need to breathe," or "And there goes a rib."
Mrs. Stutler isn't especially tall, and she certainly isn't bulky - she has the same sort of slender build as Dave, once you account for the differences in age and gender - but there's a sense of solidity about her. The woman's stance doesn't suggest that she's trained in any martial arts, which would tally with her apparent reluctance to let Dave take lessons in such, but you can see that she's otherwise very physically fit.
The way she picks Dave up off the ground and turns him about, arms curled about the boy like a pair of affectionate constrictors, just emphasizes that fact.
"Balthazar!" Mrs. Stutler exclaims as she sets her visibly-winded son down. "So good to see you again!"
"Mrs. Stutler," Balthazar greets her, unflinching as she closes in. "Always a pleasure."
You kind of have to admire how the elder sorcerer can continue to speak in that level tone without giving away any hint of discomfort, or even a sign that air is being forced out of his lungs faster than usual by Mrs. Stutler's aggressively welcoming embrace.
"Still with this 'Mrs. Stutler' business," the woman chides, smiling up at the taller man as she waggles an admonishing finger at him. "I've told you before, you can call me Nancy. And you!"
She WHIRLS in place, dark brown hair, loose blue sweater, and beaded necklaces and hair ties billowing out dramatically as she turns to face you.
"YOU must be Alex! I've heard SO much about you!"
*WHUMPH!*
Yup, she really is very strong for a perfectly norm- er, you mean avera- um, make that non-supernaturally-enhanced human. And she has no compunctions about using that strength, at least when it comes to industrial-grade hugs.
You find yourself experiencing a moment of concerted gratitude to your father, Lu-sensei, and your various past opponents, for all that practice in grappling.
"It's wonderful to meet you," Nancy Stutler says.
"Likewise, Mrs. Stutler," you answer, managing to keep your voice.
"Any friend of Dave's is always welcome in our home," the woman goes on as she releases you. "And you, sir!"
"Lu Tze, Mrs. Stutler," your master answers, smoothly executing a drawn-out bow. "Alexander's instructor in the martial arts."
"Pleased to meet you, sir." And while she doesn't bow back, Mrs. Stutler does perform a curtsey.
Not the kind of thing you'd really expect to see in New York.
"Well, don't just stand here on the step! All of you, come in, come in! I have a nice herbal tea going, if anyone is interested-"
Dave catches your eye, silently shaking his head and crossing his arms, while mouthing the word, "No."
"-there's fresh-squeezed orange juice and lemonade-"
Dave's expression brightens.
"-and if you'd like, I could get started on an early lunch, as long as no one minds sandwiches."
Dave places a hand on his stomach, frowning in consideration.
For yourself, you just ate a bit over an hour ago. It'll be a while yet before you get hungry, per se, but you ARE a growing boy, and there's always room for a little more...
You take Dave's unspoken warning about his mother's tea to heart, and decide to stick with the fruit juice. You also pass on the offer of a sandwich, letting Mrs. Stutler know that you ate not too long ago.
She accepts your explanation readily enough, and in short order, you're inside the house, shoes and jacket exchanged for a glass of lemonade - once again, following Dave's lead.
The beverage in question turns out to be pink, and when you take a sip, you detect strawberry in the mix, as well as whatever sweetener Nancy added. It's pretty good stuff.
You're not sure the same can be said of Mrs. Stutler's tea, which is an herbal blend you aren't familiar with, ground by hand and giving off a... distinctive aroma, even before she adds the hot water.
That Lu-sensei and Balthazar are able to drink the stuff without so much as a twitch of their eyebrows could be a sign of courage and fortitude, a lack of taste buds and good judgment, or just that the flavor of Nancy's tea isn't so strong as its scent.
Regardless, you're glad you stuck with the juice.
While the adults talk over tea in the kitchen-slash-dining room, Dave shows you around the house. The decor is pretty normal urban Americana, with a consistent level of quality that suggests the Stutler family are in the upper end of the middle-class.
"Mom's a teacher," Dave readily admits, when you politely inquire after what she does for a living. "At my school, even."
"That must be... interesting," you note.
He shrugs. "It could be worse. She's never actually been MY teacher - she and the principal both think it'd be a 'conflict of interest' - and she's popular with the other kids, so I don't get hassled TOO much. On the other hand, she ALWAYS knows when I have homework to do or tests to study for, and there is NO mercy for low grades."
Dave doesn't mention anything about his father, and the more you see of the Stutler house, the more you discern a lack of an adult male influence in... well, anything. There were no men's shoes or coats in the foyer until Balthazar and Lu-sensei kicked off their own footwear and the sorcerer hung up his jacket, and while that could have been explained by Dave's father being out of the house, there are other signs you associate with having a Dad around that are just not there.
There's no comfortably broken-in recliner in the living room, for one, and while the collection of music albums over by the sound system does include some of the "modern classics" in addition to classical pieces like the Ninth Symphony - which is still playing, incidentally, leading you to wonder how long it actually is - Dave attributes ownership of those to his mother as well.
He's not really INTO music, is the thing. At least not so much that there are songs he just HAS to own copies of.
It's much the same with the books. You see a few best-sellers and classic novels that your father either owns copies of or has mentioned reading or wanting to read, but they're once again "Mom's." The modest video library sharing shelf-space with the literary one is all over the place in terms of content, but while blockbuster action flicks are present in some number, there's a lack of other traditional "guy" movies - Westerns, sports movies, gritty cop thrillers, that sort of thing.
And once the tour moves upstairs, Dave points out "Mom's office, don't go in there unless you want to get buried under mountains of paperwork," "Mom's room, don't go in there if you value your sanity," and "my room, come on in," without a hint of hesitation or reluctance.
Even leaving aside all the material hints, it's the FEEL of the Stutler house that really convinces you that the family consists of just Dave and Nancy. There's no lingering auras here besides theirs, not even Balthazar's. Granted, the master sorcerer hasn't even known Dave for an entire year yet, but he seems to be keeping his visits here as limited as is politely possible.
As for Dave's room, it, too, is normal - for a value of "normal" that includes math and science textbooks filling half of the shelves, a collection of ribbon-winning science fair projects occupying the other half, and a HUGE grimoire resting on a stand in one corner of the room, quite literally GLOWING with magical power.
There are no chains or bars on this book, nor even a genuine lock, just the one simple latch to hold the cover shut. Instead, it appears to be SELF-sealing, limiting its own presence to that of a first-circle spell, easily obscured by the subtle wards around the house. But you don't doubt for a moment that this thing is at LEAST as powerful as the tomes Balthazar had locked up back at the Arcana Cabana.
"Behold the Encantus," Dave says dramatically, in response to your very obvious distraction. "Or at least, my copy of it. Balthazar called it a 'pocket edition' and did this... thing, where he sort of folded it in on itself." Dave gestures with his hands, and then sighs. "Unfortunately, after I got it UN-folded, I couldn't get it to go back."
You look from the Encantus to Dave, and then nod in the direction of the magic book.
"Do you want me to see if I can work out how to fold it back up again?"
"Please?" Dave asks, without even a moment's hestiation. "Every time I go over to the Arcana Cabana for lessons and Balthazar has to get out his OWN Encantus for me to read... well, he doesn't SAY anything or give me any kind of disappointed LOOK, but there's just this feeling of... unfulfilled expectation, you know?"
You don't know, exactly, but you can guess.
"Just, um, be careful when you're handling the Encantus," Dave goes on. "It took a swing at my Mom once."
In the middle of taking a step towards the book, you stop and turn your head back to Dave.
"Define 'took a swing at.'"
"She bumped into it while we were changing out the winter blankets," Dave explains, indicating his slightly rumpled but otherwise made bed with a sidelong gesture. "The stand was just shifted to one side, and that should have been the end of it, but I had a clear view, and I swear, the book opened up and swatted Mom with its front cover."
You eye the Encantus carefully, and make a mental note to be... gentle... in your handling of it.
Under your more focused but still passive Mage Sight, the Encantus's aura of undifferentiated magic begins to resolve into distinct portions. While the book as a whole carries the auras of all the major schools of magic, some of the characters on the cover are specifically attuned to Abjuration, with Augmentation, Elementalism, Illusion, and a form of inverted Summoning woven in.
Those would be the first line of protective wards, then. Augmentation to make the book resistant to damage, Elementalism for added protection from the forces of nature, accidents of sorcery, and deliberate ill intent alike, and Illusion to help obscure the tome's magical signature. As for the odd Summoning Magic - or perhaps more accurately, Banishing Magic - you're going to take a guess and say it's a bug-repelling ward.
Nothing to indicate how the book might be shrunk down, or for that matter, how it could be animate.
In addition to the wards, the "simple" latch holding the book shut proves to be imbued with Divination, Enchantment, and Necromancy. Some sort of system for recognizing "authorized users," you believe.
Going over the Encantus doesn't require the entirety of your focus, and as you're studying the symbols on the cover, you fill in the silence by asking Dave for some clarification about his style of magic - specifically, what it means when he speaks of a spell as being "mastered."
Dave begins his explanation by advising you to think of a pyramid with seven levels. The bottom level consists of sorcerers who've just cast the spell in question for the first time, within the confines of the Merlin Circle. They have the basic knowledge necessary to shape the magic and get the desired effect, but they haven't proven their ability to cast the spell in real-world conditions, and may not even be able to do it outside of the Circle.
Being able to cast a spell without the support of a Merlin Circle is the second level of the pyramid, and the third is being able to cast while doing something else, whether that "something" is as innocent as carrying on a conversation or reading a book, or as urgent as dodging a plasma bolt or running from a monster. Being able to cast one spell while maintaining and directing another is the next level up from that, as the increased demand on your mana reserve makes things trickier and more taxing than most physical feats.
"Unless you're in bad shape, or you - for example - FAIL to dodge one of the plasma bolts your crazy, sadistic teacher is throwing at you with the excuse of 'situational awareness.'" He shifts one arm in obvious recollection, and sourly adds, "Those things STING."
The fifth level of the pyramid is where you rank a sorcerer who's maxed out the amount of power the spell can handle without overloading and breaking up, while the sixth is reserved for those who've learned all the little tricks of awareness, control, imagination, and simple willpower that can make a spell more effective in certain situations than simply pouring raw power into it and letting the magic follow the path of least resistance.
"Take plasma bolts," Dave says. "The ones that Balthazar throws at me in practice are annoying - really, REALLY annoying - but they don't actually HURT. It's like... getting hit with an electrified ping-pong ball. Zap, ouch, he's a jerk, and then I get over it. But Balthazar can also use a plasma bolt to blast a hole through a brick wall, knock a man down without hurting him, start a fire, flash-boil water, deliver an electric shock, shoot around CORNERS by ricocheting the blast - that one's really cool - and that's just the stuff I've SEEN him do. And it's ALL the same spell. THAT's what I mean by mastering a spell."
You frown. "That's only six levels, though. You said there were seven."
"The top of the pyramid is more symbolic than anything," Dave explains. "Balthazar said that it represents our capacity for further improvement - somebody who finds an entirely new use for an existing spell, develops a new spell based on the previous one, or internalizes the spell so completely that they no longer need a focus to cast it."
On cue, you glance down at Dave's ring, the little dragon coiled around the green gem.
"What do those rings do, exactly?" You raise your hands for emphasis. "You may have noticed that I don't use one for my form of sorcery."
"Balthazar said that our magic comes from life," Dave tells you. "Our lives as individuals, the lives of all the other people and animals in the world, the life of the planet itself, even the life of the whole universe."
"So in other words, the Force is strong with you?"
"'And a powerful ally it is.'" Dave grins. "But Balthazar also compared Merlinean sorcery to electricity. Most of the time, that power flows in an unbroken circuit, out from us, into the environment, back into us, and then on again. It's already doing what it's supposed to, powering your body, helping you to grow, heal, feel, think, and just live, so if you want to go beyond that and start performing actual magic, you have to change how the energy flows around you." Dave holds up his ring. "That's where rings, staves, wands, funky hats, and all the other magic items come into play. They conduct energy differently than our bodies do, and if you can attune yourself to them, you create a miniature circuit, where power is flowing from you, into the focus, and THEN into the universe. And depending on the nature of your focus, the form the power takes when it's released can change a lot. It's like plugging in different appliances."
You consider that. "So where do other forms of sorcery fit into this electrical analogy?"
"From what Balthazar said, they're all doing this to some extent, it's just that Merlin was the first guy to really UNDERSTAND what he was doing, and to try and go beyond all the fumbling about with magic words and spell components and tap the universal energy field DIRECTLY, using his own will and knowledge." Dave winces. "And then he taught Morgana how to do the same thing, and she went bad and started trying to use the unlimited power of the life of the universe to rule the world, eventually killing her teacher, and WOW, that comparison to the Force just keeps getting STRONGER, doesn't it?"
You snicker.
Seeing as how Dave has explained the basic approach to Merlinean sorcery, you decide to return the favor regarding your own magical style.
At its root, Hyrulean sorcery does indeed share that element of tapping into the universal energy field that Dave described. It's just that, instead of trying to access the ENTIRE field, sorcerers like yourself focus on a very small and specific subset of it - namely, your own energies. These, you cultivate for as much strength and diversity as can be reasonably attained, and then use the sympathetic properties of the various physical and esoteric elements that make up your being to tap into and manipulate those same forces, as they exist outside of you. Focuses and reagents let you increase your level of sympathy, as well as the precision with which you can alter and direct it - although with enough inherent power, these become unnecessary - and the different ways in which you can apply that sympathy in turn give rise to the schools of magic.
Such a self-contained approach to magic has the distinct benefit of not really changing who or what the practitioner is. From a certain perspective, you become MORE like yourself as you practice Hyrulean sorcery, refining, focusing, and intensifying those basic aspects of your being, while keeping everything in a functional balance. Compare this to the external forms of sorcery that are traditional on Earth, and the kind of impact that accessing the power of gods, demons, and other non-human entities can have on a mortal practitioner, to say nothing of the prices such beings typically demand in exchange for use of their power...
Of course, the downside of Hyrulean sorcery is that the sorcerer's potential is defined and limited by their own nature. Those who are like you... okay, those who are CLOSER to being like you, born with abundant power and basic affinity for all the elements, can more or less do as they like, as long as they put the necessary work in. Those who are born weaker, or lacking a natural aptitude for one or more of the primordial essences, must deal with stricter limitations: certain styles of magic will respond poorly to their efforts, if at all; and certain levels of power will be too effort-intensive to attain in any practical timeframe.
And then there are the many souls whose inherent magical potential is so low that they can't properly harness it on their own, not even to perform the basic strength-building exercises.
You wonder if Merlinean sorcery would be useful for such people, but Dave admits he's much too new to the craft himself to answer that question. And it's not one that has come up in his studies with Balthazar before now.
While you and Dave are trading notes, you continue your study of the Encantus. You've looked over the entire cover by this point, and confirmed that there are no external indications of how to go about shrinking the book. You strongly suspect that it's just a variation on the Spell to Shrink An Item, imbued into the tome at the time of its creation, but the mechanism to trigger the magic eludes you.
You ask Dave to open up the book so you can inspect the interior cover for more runes that might give you a clue, but he's no sooner undone the clasp and opened the book than the Encantus slams itself shut.
Dave blinks. "...the heck?"
He reaches out to re-open the book, only to get his hand swatted by a quick open-and-shut motion of the front cover.
"Okay, STOP that."
The Encantus does not stop. Once again, it bats Dave's hand away, and this time, the clasp slides itself shut, re-sealing the book.
"I'm getting the feeling the book doesn't want you to read it, Alex," Briar says.
Before you can say anything to that, the Encantus kind of... bends halfway down its length, like it was a huge, extra-thick newspaper. It does this twice in quick succession, and you can't escape the impression of a nod of agreement before the sorcerous text goes still once more.
Well, then.
If the Encantus is conscious enough to react to words like another sapient being, you suppose it's entitled to a degree of privacy - and even if the book isn't truly self-aware, the fact that its wards are complex enough to give an impression of intelligence is a sign that you should probably back off.
After all, this is almost certainly Balthazar's spellwork you're seeing in action, and HE certainly has the right to protect the secrets of his school.
"Fair enough," you say aloud, while backing away from the book. "But could you see your way to shrinking yourself when Dave has lessons? Or at least giving him directions on how he can take you to Balthazar's place to study?"
The top half of the Encantus bends up again, away from its stand, and holds there. You have the impression it's regarding you curiously, and so, you continue.
"I mean, he is YOUR sorcerer, after all, just as much as you're HIS book. He should be learning from YOU, rather than Balthazar's copy, shouldn't he?"
Even through the bindings, you can hear the pages of the Encantus rustle at that. The book lies back down on its stand, unlatches itself, and then flips open, pages flying past in a blur. About a quarter of the way through, it stops and goes still.
You turn to Dave and gesture towards the book. "It's for you."
Dave stares at you. "What did you just do?"
"I asked the Encantus if it was willing to help you out." You pause. "Did you not try that?"
"Yes! I mean, I did ask! It wouldn't show me anything, and it even locked me out after a while! Seriously, what-"
You raise a hand, cutting Dave off short.
"I'll rephrase that," you say. "Did you ask nicely?"
He blinks. "...um."
Sighing, you glance over your shoulder at the Encantus. "He didn't, did he?"
The book closes, bends, and twists its top half from side to side in an approximation of a head-shake.
"...seriously?" Dave asks. "That's all it takes, is asking nicely?"
The Encantus nods.
"Manners, Dave," you proclaim, trying not to sound too much like Balthazar. "They open up all kinds of doors."
The Encantus nods again, and then leans towards Dave, giving off an expectant air.
"Uh... please show me how to shrink you?"
With one final nod, the spellbook opens itself back up to that page a quarter of the way through.
Dave spares you one last bewildered look before he steps up to begin reading.
Gained Thing King F
You wait patiently for a couple of minutes, while Dave pores over the book, making the occasional sound of "oh," "huh," and "so THAT's how you..." before he finally closes the book.
"Alright," the other boy says, as he takes hold of the top and bottom of the Encantus. "Let's see if I got this..."
For a moment, as he pulls gingerly on the heavy book, it seems like Dave did not, in fact, get it.
Then, with a surge of magic from himself and an answering thrum of energy within the Encantus, the tome folds it half, lengthwise.
"Ha-ha!"
Dave continues to fold the book from there, making it smaller and smaller until at last, all that's left is a blocky object that doesn't even fill one of his hands.
Dave proceeds to unfold the Encantus and fold it up again, just to make sure that he has the process down, before finally returning the full-sized volume to its stand.
"Thanks for that, Alex," he says. "Oh, and thank you, uh, Encantus?"
The book nods.
Shortly after that, the two of you and Briar head downstairs. Balthazar and Lu-sensei are still in the dining room, teacups set aside, while Mrs. Stutler - or should that be Ms. Stutler? - holds her own cup between both hands, evidently enjoying the warmth.
When you first arrived in New York, Dave asked you for some help with getting his mother more comfortable with the idea that he was learning martial arts and sorcery - "how to warp reality with his brain," to borrow a phrase.
It's true that Dave's request was a little indirect and that you didn't ACTUALLY promise him anything, but even so, you think that you'd be a lesser friend to him if you let a plea for assistance go unanswered.
Besides, you have both Lu-sensei and Balthazar on-hand to provide adult opinions of their respective fields of mastery. More than that, you know from personal experience that Master Lu has practice at helping his students break the facts of life in the Moonlit World to their (mostly) mundane parents - and while Dave may not be one of his students, the same principles apply. Moreso, since he evidently knows - or knew - the man Dave is now taking martial arts classes from.
And so you spend the next half hour or so engaged in a conversation about the benefits of being a kung fu sorcerer, not only from your own perspective, but also regarding how you believe Dave will benefit.
The increased health and fitness are givens, and the improved self-confidence only slightly less so - although, as Briar notes, you weren't exactly suffering a LACK in any of those areas before you started learning how to Punch Good.
Those positives feed directly into what you think is, from passing remarks in your prior conversations and some of your correspondences, likely to be a major consideration for Dave: the matter of schoolyard bullying.
Not that you are advocating learning martial arts in order to pick fights with other kids, or even to use the unspoken potential of such as a means of intimidating bullies. Rather, because of the greater surety in one's abilities that comes with gradual mastery of those abilities, Dave will come off as less of an easy target to those inclined to make trouble for short-
"Hey."
-skinny-
"...true."
-kids who are smarter than the average bear.
Again, Briar helpfully points out that you never had that kind of problem, so your "informed opinion" regarding is a bit questionable. However, Lu-sensei comes to your aid, having seen precisely this sort of thing play out many times during his years in Sunnydale.
Granted, he's also seen that when a former bully-magnet starts taking self-defense lessons, some bullies take it as their cue to step up their campaigns, while others merely shift gears, moving away from physical aggression in favor of the verbal approach - not infrequently, with an emphasis on getting the "karate kid" to throw the first punch.
There are really only three ways to deal with such things: endure; fight back; or give in.
Dave is visibly surprised when Lu-sensei doesn't immediately and unilaterally opt for the "turn the other cheek and never throw the first punch" philosophy common to martial artists as seen on TV.
"It's a good approach in theory," your master agrees, "but in the real world, it doesn't always work. There are always going to be people who can't or won't wrap their heads around the idea that a person could be strong without exercising that strength against others. And I'm not just referring to schoolyard bullies, either. I've had any number of self-righteous busybodies tell me to my face that I was a horrible person for encouraging violence among and towards children."
"And what do you do when facing someone like that?" Nancy Stutler asks.
"I keep a dictionary and a book of legal codes in my office for just such occasions," Lu Tze tells her. "I like to introduce people like that to the fact that violence is legally-defined as the use power of ANY kind with the intent to cause harm; that my lessons, while physically strenuous, are conducted with the intent to PREVENT harm; and that their sort of emotional and verbal abuse counts as violence."
"How often does that work?" Balthazar inquires curiously.
"I've gotten it to the point where I can cause your average ignorant crusader to start sputtering denials inside of two minutes," your master replies easily. "As for those cases where it doesn't work... well, my books may not be as large and heavy as your own collection, but they're perfectly good for bouncing off of thick heads all the same."
The elder sorcerer chuckles at that, and raises his cup of tea to Lu Tze in wordless salute.
Lu-sensei's opinion on the subject of violence appear to have given Nancy Stutler some things to think about, but not so much that she's prevented from keeping the conversation going.
"What happens when you have a student who's using what they've learned to bully others?" she asks.
"Mom," Dave gasps. "I would never-"
She pats his hand. "I know you wouldn't, sweetie. I just want to hear Mr. Tze's thoughts on the matter."
"I have had a few students who've let me down in that regard," Lu Tze admits with a nod. "When I find out that a student has been fighting outside of the dojo, the first thing I do is have them sit out classes until I've been able to speak with them, their guardians, the children they were targeting, THEIR guardians, and any teachers that can make a productive contribution about what happened and WHY it happened." He pauses, stroking his beard. "I will admit that my reaction to such incidents depends as much on what I FEEL about the situation as it does on what I see and hear. If a student has recently lost family and is lashing out because of it, for example, it's obviously not acceptable, but it IS understandable - and to some degree, preferable, at least when compared to a child who's beating up his peers simply because he CAN."
Nancy nods.
"In situations like those, I typically forbid the student from attending class until such time as they've completed whatever punishment the school or their families handed down, AND apologized to the other children. In addition, unless there were extenuating circumstances behind the fight, or I know that I can take the child at their word to behave, I make them spend the next couple of weeks studying the history and philosophy of the Five Elements School, rather than taking part in physical training. Just to make sure that they aren't backsliding, and have a better idea of what behaviors are and aren't permissible, and WHY."
"And if you have a student whose reasons were totally unacceptable?" Nancy asks. "Or one who refuses to change their behavior?"
"If a student knowingly, willfully, and repeatedly violates the teachings of the Five Elements School, then they are no longer a member of the school," Lu Tze replies firmly. "I remove their name from the dojo and ask them to leave and not return. And while that may not seem like such a great thing in the modern world, Ms. Stutler-"
Ah, confirmation.
"-I should point out that within the subculture of martial arts, being known as a student who was kicked out of a reputable training hall is a significant drawback. A master in good standing has declared, 'This person cannot be trusted.' Other masters will refuse to take such an individual on as a student, tournaments will deny them entry, and former peers will see them as disgraced and suspect." Lu Tze shakes his head. "Once you have earned such a reputation, you have a problem. Your skills stagnate, you cannot hope to make a respectable living by them, and you must deal with the stigma of being considered a violent offender - and this by a group of people that are THEMSELVES thought to be prone to violence by normal society. As a teacher yourself, I imagine that you can see how easily and severely such a status would damage someone's everyday life, if and when it got out."
Nancy winces. "I can," she admits. Almost reluctantly, she asks, "Have you ever had a student turn out that poorly?"
"I have," Lu Tze admits.
He offers no further details, and neither Nancy nor Balthazar press for them.
You, Dave, and Briar take your cue from the adults, and say nothing.
The discussion deliberately moves away from the topic of martial arts after that, and not too long afterwards, you say goodbye to Ms. Stutler, retrieve your coat and shoes from the front hall, and head back down to Balthazar's car to begin your sorcerer-guided tour of New York.
You're expected home for dinner, which means you need to leave New York around two o'clock. Three hours isn't nearly long enough to see all the sights of a big city, much less THIS city, or even to visit a small majority of them, but Balthazar and Dave give their stint as tour guides a good effort all the same.
And by "good effort," you mean that the two of them argue freely about the best routes to take to avoid the worst of the mid-day traffic, while almost seeming to compete to be the first to point out local sites - some internationally-famous, others less widely-known.
It proves to be a surprisingly even match. You would have expected Balthazar, as the adult AND a supernaturally long-lived individual besides, to have the greater familiarity with New York and its landmarks - and to be fair, he certainly knows the city as a whole better than Dave, whose experiences with it are limited mainly to his neighborhood and the surrounding boroughs.
But within that smaller area, Dave knows his way around very well.
Case in point, when your stomach starts to call for lunch, Dave directs you to a particular food cart vendor that he claims makes the best hot dogs in town. And while you'd need a wider sample spread before you could honestly back Dave's claim, you'll freely admit that the dogs are the best that you've ever had.
Sometimes you're in the Phantom, and sometimes you're on foot. You mostly stay outdoors, on Balthazar's recommendation that museums, libraries, and the like are best visited when you can afford to spend at least a full day just geting lost inside them and the history they contain, but at one point you do end up on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, looking down at the city below.
While you do your best to keep up with your guides, the whirlwind tour of the Big Apple still leaves you dizzy. For all that your visits to Los Angeles and Tokyo have given you a better appreciation for what big cities are like than you'd have if you spent your whole life in Sunnydale, it's becoming clear to you that every major city has a shape and a life of its own.
And you mean that literally. Geography, architecture, infrastructure, and the lives and actions of the residents come together to create something that you can dimly sense as an entity in its own right - one that you happen to be inside.
It's a little humbling, and just a touch creepy.
Gained Feng Shui E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Local Knowledge (New York) F (Plus)
Eventually, you end up in Central Park, where Briar - who's been holding to her usual spot on your shoulder for the bulk of the tour thus far - perks up at the sight of the trees. You do as well, and inquire of your guides if they'd object to you and your partner taking a breather from the press of New York traffic.
Dave and Balthazar have no objections, and your group begins moving away from the crowd at the park's entrance, seeking a quieter, less-populated area.
A couple of minutes along, you start to wonder if that might have been a mistake, because you've realized that you're being stalked.
Four humans are currently drifting along in your wake. One of them started trailing you back at the park entrance, with the other three joining up with him once you'd gotten clear of the main crowds. None of the quartet have the aura of a trained magic-user, ki adept, or other supernaturally-capable individual, but they're all carrying enchanted objects - weak ones, no more powerful than first-circle spells, but with a dark, aggressive edge to their energies that you find a touch concerning.
Rather more of an issue than whatever weapons or other gear your pursuers have in stock is the active Spell of Divination that started following you not long after you picked up the tag-alongs. None of them are the source of the spell, but it has the same menacing aspect as the magic bound up in their equipment, implying a common source.
As if that weren't enough, you can sense another presence somewhere ahead and off to your left, amongst the trees. This one doesn't feel human at all, but Fae - and not an altogether pleasant one, at that.
Gained Fairy Sense E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
"Well," Briar murmurs. "Aren't we popular, all of a sudden?"
Magically-armed malingerers to the back of you, Fae to the front of you, and a remote viewer looking down upon.
There's plenty to be concerned about in this situation, but you're inclined to give the greater share of your attention to the spellcaster, who-, what-, and wherever they might actually be. The similarities between the signature of that spell and the auras of the items being carried by the men coming up behind you just increase your natural tendency to focus on the magic-user.
Mentally, you call up the formula for the Spell to Detect Scrying. You don't require the day-long ward that is the standard version of that spell, nor would you be guaranteed to be able to conceal it. A stripped-down version with shorter duration will do for locating and identifying your unwanted audience.
Second-circle sounds about right to you. At that level, the spell will last for a couple of hours; plenty of time for you to get through this incident, get back to Sunnydale, and make sure you weren't being scried on the whole way.
Mana moves through you, words and gestures shape the formula-
Behind you, Balthazar's aura shifts in a manner you recognize as surprise.
-and your spell takes shape.
Immediately, your consciousness becomes divided. Part of you is still back in the park with the rest of your group, turning towards Balthazar as he speaks your name, while Dave's eyes shift back and forth between the two of you in puzzlement, and Lu-sensei looks on with the sort of detached casualness that tells you he's well aware of your unexpected company.
The other part of your awareness is focused on your spell, which grabs hold of the invisible sensor you'd already picked up on, analyzes it near-instantaneously, and then gives you a sharp mental tug in THAT direction - not back towards the park entrance or towards the Fae entity up ahead, as you might have expected, but somewhere off to one side.
A heartbeat later, an image takes shape before you, and you behold the spellcaster.
From comments Dave has made regarding the sorcerer Horvath, you were half-expecting to see an older, exceptionally well-dressed, vaguely menacing sort of gentleman with a goatee, a fine cane, and a nice hat.
That's not who you're looking at.
Seemingly in his thirties, the sorcerer is of slightly above-average height, with a large, muscular build. His strong arms in particular are displayed to good effect by his tank top, showing off not only their physical power but also the elaborate tattoos that cover them from wrists to shoulders. You don't see any obviously magical patterns amongst the designs inked into the man's flesh, but you wouldn't bet against him having a few wards or the like hidden in the mix. Aside from the loose shirt, he wears a pair of comfortably broken-in, slightly threadbare blue jeans.
Instead of a classically evil beard, or even a few days' worth of stubble as would befit his thug-like build and fashion sense, the sorcerer is clean-shaven. His dark brown hair is neat and short, and his eyes are a disconcertingly clear blue.
The aforementioned eyes are fixed firmly on you, and the face around them is visibly surprised.
"You don't look like the Merlinean kid," the sorcerer rumbles, with the sort of accent TV has told you comes from the Bronx.
Then the image fades, and the whole of your awareness is once again in the park.
Balthazar studies your expression for a moment, frowning. "You poked at the scrying spell."
It's not a question, and you don't bother to deny it.
"For the record, not always the safest idea," Balthazar says quickly. "But as you don't appear to have gone crazy or been enchanted-"
"Wait, that can happen?" Dave blurts out.
"-did you see anything?"
Even as Balthazar speaks, you're keenly aware of the four humans and the solitary Fae moving closer.
Even with five almost-assuredly unfriendly individuals incoming and a sixth still watching from a distance - of about three miles, according to your Spell to Detect Scrying - you see no reason not to bring Balthazar up to speed on the results of your counter-scrying.
Casting a minor Spell of Illusion, you produce a scaled-down image of the other sorcerer, hovering over your upraised palm. As Balthazar studies it, you explain that the man saw you, spoke with what you believe to be a Bronx accent, and mentioned a "Merlinean kid" that you didn't look like.
Dave blanches at that.
"Why would a sorcerer from the Bronx know what I look like?" he asks.
"I plan to ask him about that," Balthazar assures his student. "At the moment, though, we have these other gentlemen to deal with."
The "gentlemen" in question have gotten close enough for you to observe them in detail, and once again, you find your expectations being dashed. Instead of a quartet of obvious thugs or flashy punks, four remarkably normal-looking young men are coming towards your group. Tan slacks instead of blue jeans, windbreakers and a hand-knitted sweater rather than metal-studded leather jackets or slogan-emblazoned hoodies, and not a hint of tattoos, piercings, or hair dye to be seen.
The only outward oddity of the four young men's appearance is that they're all wearing knitted hats in the same dark blue, as well as modestly-stylish dark-tinted glasses and light gloves. To mundane eyes, this would just be a curious fashion statement, but your Mage Sight tells a different story.
The glasses are enchanted with a single piece of Divination Magic, which is currently active and scanning away in your direction. You have absolutely no trouble recognizing a Spell to Detect Magic at work.
The hats are imbued with Abjuration Magic, the precise purpose of which honestly eludes you, while the gloves bear a currently-inactive aura of mingled Earth Elementalism and Transformation Magic that you find similarly unfamiliar. A much more recognizable piece of Augmentation Magic is worked in as well; while you've never cast the druidic cousin of the ubiquitous Spell of Magic Weaponry yourself, you can easily recognize the similarities, and identify the Spell of Magic Fang.
That does make you wonder if the Bronx sorcerer had help making those gloves, or if his particular approach to sorcery has an easier time producing that particular effect than your own Hyrulean tradition.
These are not the only magic items the four men are carrying; they're merely the ones that are as visible to the naked eye as they are to magical sensors.
Each man is wrapped from head to toe in an aura of Conjuration Magic that is anchored to his wrists. While you can't directly see the bracelets, bands, or bangles that carry this power, half-tucked inside the sleeves of the men's jackets - and sweater - you hardly need to. The full-body force-field produced by a Spell of Mage Armor is another effect you instantly recognize, thanks to your own extensive history of using it.
Layered over and through the Spell of Mage Armor is another aura of Conjuration Magic, this one centered on a point over each man's chest, right about where a pendant or medallion would hang. This magic, too, is one you know well, being a clear variant on the Spell of Protection. You can't say for certain who or what the protection is leveled against, but it's a safe bet that it's intended to ward off Balthazar's magic somehow.
Speaking of whom, the sorcerer himself has finished giving the incoming magically-outfitted band his own once-over.
"Just when you thought it was safe to go back into Central Park," he mutters, before raising his voice. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Is there something we can help you with?"
The four men come to a stop about ten feet away.
"As a matter of fact, there is, Mr. Blake," the second one from the left replies.
"Hey, they know who you are, too," Dave observes.
"My friends and I are here on behalf of a new community initiative," the spokesman says. "An association of concerned citizens that want to clean up the city, get some of the... meaner crowd off the streets, make it safe for the kids again."
"Worthwhile goals," Balthazar admits.
"Glad to hear you think so," the spokeman grins. "Anyway, our senior members let it be known that they'd very much like to arrange a meeting with you and your young friend, and when we" - he gestures at his posse - "noticed you were in the area, we thought we should extend an invitation."
"I see. And where and when would this meeting take place?"
"No time like the present, right?"
"Ah. Well, I appreciate the offer, but as you may have noticed, we have other plans at the moment." Balthazar nods towards you and Lu-sensei.
"Oh, by all means, bring your friends. I'm sure the higher-ups would like to speak with them, as well."
While this has been going on, you've been mentally tracking the movements of that Fae creature. It's been coming steadily closer, with a complete lack of betraying sound - not unusual for Faerie beings surrounded by nature, or, apparently, by human-maintained parkland. Your Fairy Sense isn't as well-developed as some of your other supernatural detection skills, and the distance between you and this creature, plus all the trees that filled up the space, seriously limited what you were able to discern of it. Now that it's closer, however, you're able to get a better read on it.
The creature is significantly stronger than most humans, and from the way its aura-backed silhouette looms large in your mind's eye, you get the feeling that it's quite a bit bigger as well. Say, eight or nine feet tall, and wide across the shoulders. The idea of something that large being able to move about as quietly as this one has been doing does NOT do good things for your sense of ease, especially now that you can get a clearer sense of its nature.
That nature involves TEETH.
"Don't turn around, Alex," Briar murmurs.
"I am afraid we must decline, young man," Lu Tze says then, in response to the beanie-wearing spokesman's latest 'offer.' "My ward and I are visiting from out of town, and are due to be back on the road shortly."
"What's back there?" you ask softly.
"Please," the leader says, with a smile that almost manages to be sincere. "I insist."
To the man's left, one of his buddies suddenly looks in your direction, except past you, and rather higher up. His jaw drops, and as he tries to choke out something, he reaches for his friend's shoulder.
From behind you, there comes a deep, predatory snarl, the kind of sound that wakes up the furry little prey animal sleeping in the hindbrain of every human being, and makes it tremble.
Dave squeaks.
"Troll," Briar replies.
NOW there is noise, as with a creaking of trunks, a snapping of branches, and a roar of, "BEANIE MEANIES!" the monster emerges from the trees. As you get the heck out of its way - grabbing Dave and dragging him along with you in a brief burst of Ki Enhanced speed, earning a brief look of gratitude from Balthazar in the process - you glance over your shoulder at the beast.
Your previous estimate of the troll's size was a little off. While it is indeed around nine feet tall, it walks - or in this case, charges - with a decided hunch that sacrifices a good two feet of additional height. In exchange for this, the green-skinned, lanky-haired, long-nosed giant is able to bring its long arms to bear, tearing up the turf as it lurches, apelike, towards the four men in caps and glasses.
You have to spare a moment to marvel at the troll's extra-extra-EXTRA-large black shirt, with the "I New York" slogan on it.
Though clearly alarmed by the sight of their attacker, the four men hold their ground in the face of his charge, barking nonsense words that cause the sleeping magic of their gloves to awaken and transmute their forearms into what appears to be solid stone.
Balthazar threw himself out of the troll's path with rather less raw speed than yourself, but he avoided getting trampled and managed to keep his footing in the bargain. Now, the elder sorcerer stands a few feet away from you and Dave, taking in the opening moves of the fight - a massive hammer-blow from the troll, which all four young men manage to dodge, at the cost of two of them ending up on their butts. The standing pair cover for them, charging in to strike at the troll with their petrified fists.
"Do you know what is going on here, Mr. Blake?" Lu Tze inquires of Balthazar, as he blurs into view next to you.
"Not as such, Master Lu," Balthazar admits. "Last I'd heard, there were no trolls in Central Park. Then again, that fellow does seem to be new in town."
You're not sure if he's referring to the troll's Fae aura, its t-shirt, or both.
"BEANIE MEANIES GET OUT OF GRACK'S PLACE!"
"And yet he is already acquainted with our four friends," Lu-sensei observes.
"Shouldn't we, uh, be running right now?" Dave asks in a slightly higher-pitched tone of voice than usual. "Or making with the magic, or helping... someone?"
You express your preference to stand back and let the situation at hand develop without your interference. It's not your fight, and you honestly don't have a real stake in it - after all, you don't live in New York, and likely won't have to deal with the aftermath of this incident, one way or the other. Dave and Balthazar, on the other hand...
"So, you want us to just... stand here, and watch these guys get beaten up by a raging troll?" Dave asks in amazement.
"I'm suggesting you'll want to be in a good position to intervene, if it looks like the troll is going to break or eat any of them," you reply. "They... probably don't deserve anything like that, and it'd put them and their group in debt to you and your teacher."
Balthazar nods. "True enough."
"Besides," you continue, "if you have your foot in the door with this organization, you'll be better-placed to help the troll deal with them."
Dave looks from you to the fight. "He... doesn't seem like he needs help."
Well, no. Not with THESE guys.
Looking at them through your Ki Sight, each member of the quartet has the aura of a young, fit, and tougher-than-average human male. They're nothing special in the grand scheme of things, and would be easy opponents for most of the young martial artists and/or monsters of your acquaintance, but all those magic items working together make each man rather more dangerous than he otherwise would be.
The Spell of Mage Armor is as good or better than most forms of medium armor, with the added advantages of weightlessness and truly complete coverage. Those gloves are not only turning the men's fists to solid stone, they're adding a magical enhancement for greater accuracy, as well as the always-useful ability to actually HARM entities that would normally ignore (or at least resist) mundane weaponry. The protective medallions, meanwhile, likely make each fighter at least twice as hard to take out with various forms of supernatural trickery - at least from certain opponents.
You still can't say what the enchanted beanies are contributing, but the simple Glasses of Magic Detection are arguably the most dangerous things these guys have. They might not be able to see through Illusion Magic and personal transformations with those, but they'll be able to tell that such things are present - or when they AREN'T, and the seemingly normal human in question is actually a magic-user or some kind of monster with a nearly-human appearance, such as, for example, a vampire.
Add all of that up, and throw in the fact that the quartet didn't flee when the troll - Grack, was it? - charged them, and have not only managed to avoid breaking and running or GETTING broken by the troll's immense strength, but actually pull together and fight back, and it seems quite clear that the blue beanie boys have prior experience fighting inhuman opponents.
Considering their spokesman's line about "cleaning up the community" and getting rid of the "meaner elements," it seems very likely that the troll may have a legitimate grievance.
"RRRRAAAARRRRGH!"
"OH GOD WHYYYY?!"
But if so, it's because the "Beanie Meanies" brought friends the last time they faced him. Because four slightly above-average humans really aren't a match for a ticked-off troll, as Grack demonstrates by picking up the guy in the sweater by the legs, and swinging him around as an improvised club.
Back at the World Tournament, you faced William Marsh, a half-troll - and a half-naturalized troll, at that, whose non-human ancestors had been on Earth long enough to shed any ties to Faerie they might have had. Marsh didn't have much besides mean, ugly, and a lot of strength to fight with.
Grack is rather more formidably armed. It's not just the fangs and the claws, or even his adult size and girth, that skew this fight so hard in his favor; it's the fact that he's a full-blooded troll, fresh from Faerie and still surging with the supernatural vitality of that realm. Monsters like this have such powerful regeneration that they can shrug off blows from most weapons, casually reattach severed limbs, or even recover from being literally hacked to pieces. Being punched by enchanted stone fists driven by mundane human strength is NOT going to put this one down - that requires fire, or acid, or an even scarier monster.
Or perhaps one well-prepared magic-user - such as the Bronx sorcerer, who's still scrying on your general location.
Tallying up the known effects of the beanie boys' enchanted gear, you'd estimate each set of glasses, medallions, wristbands, and gloves to be worth around $5,000 and five days' worth of work. That's a fair investment of time and especially funds, and it implies that either these four are some sort of "elite" unit in their organization, or else the Bronx sorcerer has the means to outfit EVERYONE he has working for him to this standard, if not better.
In the former situation, keeping the beanie boys alive becomes that much more valuable a bargaining chip for Balthazar and Dave.
In the latter situation, the Bronx sorcerer becomes significantly more dangerous, in which case keeping on his better side by saving some of his people is, once again, a good idea.
You quietly explain all of this for Dave, who starts to get a look of realization and uncomfortable acceptance about halfway through.
"I think that's gone on just about long enough to make the point," Balthazar decides, right after you've finished speaking. And indeed, Grack has flattened all but one of his foes, while his "club" is looking decidedly the worse for wear. "Wouldn't you agree, Master Lu?"
"Indeed, Master Blake. Would you care for some assistance in sorting out the combatants?"
"I would, thank you."
This one's a no-brainer.
Grack is a troll. Like most monsters, trolls respect power, but where other monsters can recognize and appreciate the value of intelligence, magic, and other forms of power, trolls are much more simple and direct in their natures. For them, physical strength and ability are everything, while too much intelligence or any real magic at all is suspect - probably because of how easy it is for a smart person or a magical practitioner to deal with a monster that is so focused on raw strength.
Balthazar does not have that kind of raw strength. By human standards, he's fit and healthy, and he moves like a guy who's had a lot of experience on the battlefield - but human standards aren't monster standards, let alone TROLL standards, and Balthazar ALSO moves like the sort of fighter who prefers to keep engagements at range: dagger-throwers; javelineers; archers; sorcerers.
If it comes to mutual displays of strength - and with a troll, it probably will - the Sorcerer of the Seven-Hundred-and-Seventy-Seventh Degree would naturally default to his magic. And that wouldn't go over too well with Grack.
You, on the other hand, are a world-class martial artist. Between your natural size, the trained strength of your body, and the cultivated power of your ki, you can match a lot of monsters your age and size for sheer strength. That won't be enough to match Grack by itself, even if you Overloaded your Ki Enhancement, but it would get his attention and a measure of respect - and you have other advantages, besides.
After all, a lot of your closest friends are monsters, and you've spent enough time with them over the last half a year to get a solid handle on their collective culture and mentality.
In addition to that, Grack is a recent immigrant from Faerie. You have a fairy partner, and some experience in dealing with other Fae beings without getting tricked or eaten.
Besides, if worse comes to worst, you can always fall back on Maximum Power - though you're hoping to avoid that and similar shows of your magical ability, what with the Bronx sorcerer's scrying spell still working. You've had the impression that his attention's been split between watching your group and monitoring his flunkies, but if you start making with brilliant displays of Power, that will surely change.
For all the good it would do him.
"Briar and I will handle the troll," you tell the rest of your party.
"You will?" Dave exclaims
"We will?" Briar asks in the same tone.
You shoot your partner a look.
"I mean, we will!"
Balthazar and Lu-sensei trade glances, and then turn to regard the battlefield, where Grack is peering at his improvised, groaning club. The troll snorts and throws the battered sweater-wearing man at the last of the beanie boys still on his feet, knocking him with contemptuous ease.
Balthazar turns back to you and asks, "You're sure about that, Alexander?"
"I am. Briar, if you could get his attention for me?"
"Sure," she drawls. "Noooo problem."
Briar launches from your shoulder and flies towards Grack, halting somewhat beyond the reach of his long arms. As the troll looms over his defeated opponents, gathering himself for what could be a roar of victory, a finishing blow, or something else entirely, your keen ears - aided by your familiar bond - catch Briar taking a deep breath.
"HEY!"
Grack's long ears twitch noticeably at the tiny but remarkably attention-grabbing yell, and he half-turns to regard Briar's luminous presence with a yellow-eyed squint and a few wet snuffles of the air.
"Little fairy," he rumbles, more to himself than her or anyone else. In a clearer tone, Grack says, "Why little fairy bother Grack? Grack busy winning fight."
"My name is Briar, Grack, and I'm bothering you because my partner wants to talk to you."
On cue, you activate your Ki Enhancement, bringing your physical parameters up to their full normal level. For once, you don't bother trying to conceal your use of energy; you WANT Grack to notice.
And notice, the troll does. His gaze immediately cuts from Briar to you, and again, he scents the air.
"Fairy's human boy," he mutters. "What boy want with Grack?"
"My name is Alex, Grack," you tell the troll, following Briar's lead and establishing your identity first thing. "And what I want..."
Gained Warrior Born C (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
You declare your intent as openly and blatantly as possible, standing up straight, meeting Grack's yellow-eyed gaze straight on, and pitching your voice just so - in all ways, making it apparent that you're calling him out.
Hahahaha! Yes!
You ignore the sounds of tiny or aged hands meeting their respective matching faces that come from ahead of you and behind you.
"...is he crazy?" Dave wonders aloud. "Is that what this is?"
I am really starting to wonder that myself.
Grack blinks, and sniffs the air in your general direction again. An expression of puzzlement crosses his large, savage features.
"Grack like to fight as much as next troll," he begins, "but why fairy's human boy want to fight Grack? Human boy not kin or pack to Beanie Meanies Grack beat. Little fairy and little fairy's human boy not smell like Grack's place or big human city, so Grack not intrude on their places."
"I want to fight you because you're strong, and I want talk to you about what happened here," you say simply, leaving unspoken all the (monstrous) reasoning behind it. Testing each other's strength, proving your character - all those reasons are true, but Grack doesn't need that kind of exposition.
He's a monster, after all. He gets it at least as well as you do.
And indeed, your simple statement has caused Grack's expression to brighten. "Ah! Manners! Grack never thought he meet polite human."
"...you are KIDDING me."
That's Dave, but it sounds like one of the more conscious thugs was making a similar remark.
It's kind of driven home by the way Grack turns to glare at the man in question, growling, "Beanie Meanie stop being rude. Grack and little fairy's human boy are TALKING. Grack already on last nerve with Beanie Meanies, and Beanie Meanie is GETTING ON IT."
Wow. That was downright eloquent for a troll.
There is a faint sound akin to, "Mommy."
"Leave mothers out of this. Beanie Meanies' mothers already be disappointed in their brats, no need to upset mothers more."
Ha! I think I like him.
When the downed punk makes no further intelligible sounds, Grack grunts and turns back to you.
"Grack sorry about that. Rude people." There is a shrug like a small avalanche. "What do?"
You nod. "So. We fight?"
Grack grins. "We fight!"
And then he roars and charges at you, Fae essence flaring aggressively, and WOW, that is a lot more alarming when it's aimed straight at you!
REMARKABLY ELOQUENT FAERIE TROLL: GRACK
There's nothing subtle about Grack's opening attack. It's a high-speed, full-power charge, momentum building up to be delivered unto you via a shoulder-tackle or through a double-fisted swing from those long, powerful arms. You have no trouble reading the troll's movements or intentions, and your Ki Enhanced speed is sufficient to get you out of the way of the attack, but you still feel the shockwave as Grack's clawed hands come down, clenched, in another of those brutal, ground-cratering hammer-blows.
So, now you're fighting a Faerie-born troll. His strength outclasses yours, more because of his adult development and the sheer size of his kind than because he's all that powerful a monster. You could use magic to close that gap, but should you?
You're not about to tussle with a full-grown troll using only your Ki Enhancement, not even for the sake of good manners. That said, you're not going to forego trollish politeness entirely and pour on all the magic you can, even if it would make this fight a lot easier on you.
At least, not YET.
As such, you restrict yourself to using Transformation Magic for the time being.
Your first choice is the Spell to Enlarge A Person. You have prior experience fighting under this magic, and it doesn't alter the way your body works beyond making it larger, so you don't have to worry about any unfamiliarity with your "new" form. In addition, while the increase to your strength and striking power are certainly nice, the real benefit is how longer limbs will open up your range, canceling out most - if not quite all - of Grack's reach advantage.
And if it turns out that you need more strength to really go head-to-head and hand-to-claw with the troll, you can always cast another spell to bulk up.
Choice made, you shape the spell while you circle wide of Grack's position, Ki Enhanced speed and honed combat instincts helping you to stay a step ahead of the troll's attacks.
Then, as your magic takes effect and your body begins to swell in size, you let out a yell of challenge.
"...he's an anime character," you distinctly hear one of the punks groan. "We're being saved from a monster, by a KID who is also an anime chracter." There is a sigh. "I, just... how is this my life?"
"Look on the bright side," Balthazar says to the younger man with a certain cheer. "At least you aren't getting eaten by the troll."
Speaking of Grack, his initial response to your sudden change of form was to enter a claws-raised defensive posture, yellow eyes narrowing first in suspicion and then in surprise as he found himself no longer having to crane his neck to look down at you.
"Magic," Grack says with a frown, as you reach your full, magically-enabled height.
"You ARE very big," you answer, rolling your neck and shoulders. "This way, things are a little more even."
"...Grack WOULD like normal fight again," the troll admits thoughtfully. "Not had one since leaving home. City much fun, but everyone here so puny." There is an explosive sigh as the great green head shakes, its long mane of unkempt black hair briefly fanning out. "It no good to always fight small humans; troll get careless, make mistakes. Also, can bring bad reputation."
"'Can't win fights against big people, has to fight little ones?'" you guess.
"Exactly!" Grack throws his arms up. "Why little fairy's human boy get it, and not other trolls? IT NOT GRACK'S FAULT ALL GRACK'S FIGHTS ARE WITH PUNIES!"
Grack's remarks give you an idea. Your objective here isn't necessarily to win the fight, but rather, to use it to prove your strength and character - but from what Grack just said about wanting a "normal" fight against a "not puny" opponent, you think you could contribute to both ends by getting him to agree to let you cast one more Spell of Transformation, so as to cancel out even more of the size difference.
You can see three options.
The first is simply to cast the most powerful Transformation-based version of the Spell of Bull's Strength that you can manage, making yourself as big and muscley as your magic will allow. Grack would certainly appreciate this, as it would allow you to hit as hard as possible.
The second choice would be to cast a more balanced physical buff, sacrificing some raw power in order to bring your agility, endurance, and other parameters up alongside your pure strength. Grack would be very likely to appreciate this approach as well, because while you might not hit as hard, you'd also be able to take more hits in turn.
The last option would be to cast the Spell of the Threefold Aspect, and take on either the young adult or mature adult form, eliminating Grack's advantage of maturity, at least in this contest of pure physical capacity. You wouldn't get nearly as much of a boost to your abilities this way, but Grack might like to not have to fight a kid, no matter how big you actually are.
Alternately, you could just fight Grack as you are right now, with no more buffs. You doubt he'd really object to that.
How hard you can hit things is not the sole measure of physical power. Speed, reflexes, stamina, actually being able to take a hit - these things, you know, are every bit as important, especially when you're fighting monsters capable of casually breaking bones. So simply casting the Spell of Bull's Strength is out.
And after some thought, you decide that it would be better if you didn't cast the Spell of the Threefold Aspect right now. For one thing, while you have used the spell before, it was only for your meetings with the monks at Abbot Jason's temple, where you were mainly socializing and performing magic. You aren't sure if you're comfortable enough with adult or near-adult bodily proportions to rely on them in a fight.
Also, there's the matter of your clothes. Unlike the Spell to Enlarge A Person, the Spell of the Threefold Aspect doesn't take major changes of size into account. Part of you wants to decry that as unfair, even as another part grudgingly admits that the spell WAS developed for use by adults, and its creators probably never imagined that there'd be a kid capable of performing the relatively powerful spell.
Furthermore, you've used your adult form as a proxy of sorts for your dealings with the monks. That particular secret is now out with the spiritual crowd back in Japan - having given the abbot and his brothers the impression that you were you some kind of shapeshifter in the process, which admittedly isn't entirely wrong - but you'd prefer not to spoil your disguise in front of the beanie boys or their sorcerous business partner, before you ever even got the chance to use it in New York.
Because you never know. You might one day find a use for a temporary adult guise in the Big Apple.
And so it is that you ask Grack how he'd feel about you casting one more spell, to bring your physical abilities up to a state closer to troll-like standards.
Grack considers it for a moment, and then nods and gives you a clawed thumb up. "Grack okay with this." Then he tucks in his thumb and extends his index claw in its place as he adds, "But then we fight, and no more magic!"
You begin shaping the Spell of Transformation, which incorporates the Spell of Bull's Strength and its other physically-focused peers and boosts all of their effects. Exactly how MUCH the benefits are increased is up to question.
Your skills with Transformation Magic are such that you could push the spell up to the seventh circle, but that's a degree of magic you don't have any chance of hiding, and the Bronx sorcerer is still observing. When it comes to magic you CAN hide, fourth-circle is the upper limit, and even that is only possible with a bit of luck. But should your Mana Concealment slip, it wouldn't be a great loss - after all, to find the Bronx sorcerer, you had to cast the Spell to Detect Scrying, which is a fourth-circle magic itself. Seeing you cast fourth-circle Transformation would just tell him that you're unusually competent in two of the major schools.
Of course, the less powerful you make the spell, the less benefit there will be.
So the question is, how much of your power are you comfortable with revealing to your audience?
Once again, you let out a yell as magic surges around and through you, temporarily altering the state of your body. While the effects aren't quite as dramatic as when the Spell to Enlarge A Person doubled your basic physical dimensions and octupled your mass, the sudden swelling of every muscle group, hardening of flesh and bone, and surging of energy through your blood and nerves is still a sight to see.
"Oh, that can NOT be comfortable," Dave groans, flinching as you spontaneously fill out.
"Aaaand he's gone full shounen martial artist," the downed guy sighs. Having pulled himself up from where Grack left him sprawled out on the grass, the young man runs a hand over his face, before reaching up and pulling off his beanie. "That's it, I'm out. Call me when reality starts making sense again."
"You'll be a long time waiting for that particular call, young man," Lu-sensei advises him.
Grack ignores all of that in favor of looking you over as the spell finishes up.
"All done?" he asks.
You do a few stretches and throw in a quick kata to test how your upgraded body moves, and then...
Your agreement not to use any more spells in this bout may put you at a tactical disadvantage with regards to winning the fight, but winning was never the point. You challenged Grack because you wanted to give a good enough accounting of yourself to earn his respect and get him willing to talk; by agreeing to forego further spellcasting, you're a big step closer to that end than you were just a few seconds ago.
Although there is some appeal to the idea of casting the most powerful Transformation-based buff that you can and coming at Grack with as much power as this situation will allow you to muster, you decide against it.
The Bronx sorcerer's scrying spell is still going, after all.
You spare a moment's thought to wonder why Balthazar hasn't countered that spell yet. What little you've learned about Merlinean sorcery suggests that, much like your own style, a practitioner can cast any of the spells he knows at any time, and you can't see a sorcerer reaching Balthazar's power and implied age without studying Divination Magic and the counters for it. This implies that he's deliberately leaving the Bronx sorcerer's spell alone, and that he WANTS the other sorcerer to see something that's happening on this end.
Is it your ongoing but largely successful diplomatic efforts with Grack? The fact that Balthazar is looking the beanie boys over for injury and not laying any curses or mind-control spells on them? Something else?
You aren't sure, but you do take some comfort from the fact that the scrying sensor is following Balthazar more closely than it's following you, suggesting that the spell was aimed at him in the first place. Not that this necessarily prevents the Bronx sorcerer from observing you as well, but your own Spell of Scrying starts getting fuzzy more than ten feet or so from its intended target, and is functionally blind past twenty feet. And you're a self-acknowledged freak of sensory prowess. Balthazar's far enough away right now that you should be on the edge of the Bronx sorcerer's sphere of visibility.
Regardless of WHY Balthazar is letting the scrying spell go uninterrupted, you know that revealing the full extent of your Transformation Magic to gain an advantage in this fight just isn't worth the long-term disadvantage you'd be at in any future encounters with the Bronx sorcerer and his compatriots. If fourth-circle spells are the limit of the magic you show here, that's what your audience will expect to see in the future, and plan for accordingly.
Granted, a smart opponent would allow for the possibility that you're more powerful than you let on, but weighing against that is your physical age. Being able to cast fourth-circle spells before your tenth year is already a serious achievement, all the more so when your proficiency in martial arts and the time it would have taken to train are factored in. To say nothing of your other abilities, which you've avoided showing off here so far.
There are LIMITS, is what you're saying, and you've upended enough adult worldviews by now to know that people are inclined to peg yours as lower than they actually are - at least until the evidence to the contrary is staring them in the face.
Besides, fourth-circle spells are on the upper edge of what you can potentially cast while still keeping your magical signature hidden. You could always use more practice with that particular skill.
So you go ahead and cast the Spell of Transformation.
...you assume your opening stance.
"I am," you tell Grack. "Come at me, troll! Show me your strength!"
There is a pause, and then-
"BWAHAHAHAHA!"
-Grack throws back his head and lets out a deep, booming belly laugh. His many, MANY knife-like teeth seem to shine in the light of this overcast New York afternoon.
Gained King of Monsters C (Plus)
"OKAY! Little fairy's human boy better be ready, but ready or not, HERE GRACK COME!"
And with that, the fight is back on. For real, this time.
Grack is a troll, and trolls are blessed with regeneration so potent that it makes dismemberment and even beheading perfectly survivable experiences. This opens up ALL KINDS of options that are normally off-limits to you in a friendly fight, because your sparring partners couldn't take the hits.
And it would be impolite for you to hold back.
For the next fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds, you spend ki like it's going out of style, fueling a chain of Body Flickers that lead into Strike Flicker-backed power blows aimed at ostensibly vulnerable areas. You counter Grack's blows with blindingly high-speed strikes, keeping your feet on the ground as much as possible and using the leverage for all it's worth. You attack locked joints, deliberately dislocate Grack's left arm, and - after stepping back to avoid another of those crater-making hammer-blows he likes so much, then hitting the top of his fists to drive them down faster and yank the rest of Grack off-balance - you spring forward and kick him in the head.
Gained Ki Strike F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Mighty Blow E (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Strike Flicker D (Plus)
Grack takes every hit, and never stops grinning.
He heals so quickly that you see bruises form and fade like you're watching them via time-lapse photography. Blows that, at least on a smaller scale, would have left a human writhing in pain mostly earn grunts, with one or two flinches at most. A healing factor wouldn't prevent pain, as far as you know, so either the rubbery consistency of Grack's flesh is taking the edge off your blows, or his internal anatomy is different enough to render your modest knowledge of pressure points and nerve endings largely useless.
Or he could just be that tough.
Trolls, man.
Wrenching Grack's left arm out of its socket slows him down for all of about three seconds, which is the time it takes for him to force you back with a swift right-handed claw-sweep, leap backwards himself, and then grab his dangling arm with his good hand to shove it back into place.
Then he comes right back at you, still wearing that toothy smile that would make a shark envious.
Gained Cryptozoology C (Plus) (Plus)
As for the boot to the head, you honestly think that hurt your foot more than it did Grack's head.
Thank Lu-sensei for the lessons that led you to Ki Armor.
Gained Ki Armor D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Despite the fact that Grack is healing from everything you've thrown at him, your efforts haven't been completely wasted. Trollish vitality, while vast, is not unlimited, and Grack is showing that in his slower movements and harder breathing. If you keep this up, you might actually be able to exhaust him - very, very briefly - or perhaps even knock him out - even MORE briefly, you suspect.
Your diplomatic efforts have come at a cost, though. Part of that is in your ki reserves, which you've been burning through at a prodigious rate with all the high-speed maneuvers you've been using, but there's also the physical toll. The simple, straightforward nature of Grack's fighting style makes it easy to read, and beetween your natural traits, your Ki Enhancement, and your Spell of Transformation, you've been able to keep ahead of him and avoid taking any major blows. That said, Grack is not just a dumb brute - he is an EXPERIENCED brute, and more than a little sneaky. He knows just how much punishment he can take, and is perfectly willing and able to absorb hits he didn't strictly need to, in order to get in a few shots of his own.
And even when they don't have his full terrain-wrecking strength behind them, those blows hurt.
Particularly that clever twist of his wrist that let his claws slash the front of your coat and shirt, and kiss the skin beneath. It's almost like being clawed by a cat - light, thin cuts that sting like the dickens.
It could have been worse, though. You saw the claws coming in time to do something about them. And again, Ki Armor.
Still, it's clear that it's not just the pure physical advantage that Grack holds over you, diminished though it might be by your Spell of Transformation. There is simply a difference between a kid who's been fighting for only a few years, no matter how talented, and an adult being that's been fighting for most if not all of his life - his potentially very, VERY long life - no matter how simple his technique might appear.
Even though he's healing from all your attacks, it's clear that absorbing all those blows - enhanced by ki for greater strength, speed, and esoteric power as they are - in such a short span of time is still taking a toll on Grack's trollish constitution. Nothing as powerful as that regeneration comes for free, and if you can just keep the pressure on him, you could make the prospect of continuing the fight too "expensive" for him to carry on.
As such, you decide to continue the match as you began it, trusting in your abilities and and chosen tactics to see things through.
This decision lasts you all of ten more seconds, ending abruptly when you come out of a Body Flicker with a punch chambered, only to find a big green fist coming right at you-!
Caught with your ki still in its "cooldown" cycle after your latest technique, you're unable to simply Body Flicker away from the danger, or to use a Strike Flicker to counter it. You do your best to evade, and with both feet on the ground and your doubled-up enhancements going, your best is pretty good - but there's a difference between "pretty good" and "good enough," and you realize as soon as you've begun to move that you're not going to make it.
Your arms shift to block-
*POW!*
-and instead of being folded in half and losing those hot dogs you had for lunch as Grack's fist takes you in the belly, you instead get spun around and thrown backwards by the blow, which also leaves your arms aching terribly.
"Took time," the troll grins, "but Grack got your measure now!"
Then he presses his attack, and you're suddenly almost completely on the defensive. Grack has dispensed with the brutal power attacks and wide claw-sweeps - which weren't working against you anyway - and is now coming at you with both fists clenched, almost like the world's heaviest-weight boxer. The shorter distances and straighter lines his arms are moving through take much less time and effort, and for the next little while, it's like Grack has gotten a second wind.
Or maybe you're just flagging. Seeing how fast they're coming - almost twice as quickly as before, it feels like - it's proving considerably harder for you to dodge and deflect Grack's punches. That blow you took is not helping; even partially-sidestepped and absorbed via a block, you think it did you almost as much actual injury as that light clawing the troll managed earlier. And much of the damage was focused on your arms, which are sore enough now that it's interfering with your defense.
This... might be it.
A fight you lose.
The notion of conceding the fight pases through your mind, and is dismissed almost as quickly as it appeared.
Give up?
NEVER.
No fight is over until it's over.
And besides, you have a fairy partner.
Digging deep, you try to give it one last burst of everything you have, save magic. Mental and spiritual energies surge through you, enhancing your body in their own ways, while you bring your sensory skills up to full power, hoping to get a better read on Grack.
The first two efforts prove to be little more than a waste of energy. Grack isn't attacking you with psychic or spiritual power, and his solidly-grounded, strongly physical existence doesn't appear to be particularly sensitive to these forces - at least not in the manner you're channeling them to back up your flesh and bone. Maybe if you were a stronger psychic... and then again, maybe not. You may not be a trained spiritualist, but you've got as much raw power in that field as you do some schools of magic, and Grack doesn't react to the spiritually-augmented blows you get in any more than he did your previous strikes.
Switching your Mental Sight over to active mode is only slightly more productive than using Mental Enhancement. Grack does have a mind under all that muscle and bone, but he's not using it in any exotic fashion, and you're nowhere near being good enough at the psychic arts to predict an intelligent being's actions by reading their mind. Assuming that's even possible with Mental Sight alone, which it may well not be. As far as reading his thoughts go, it's a wash, as you pick up little more than a general impression of ferocious glee.
If you had to put it into words, it'd be, "FightfightfightfightFIGHT!"
Spiritual Sight is ineffective in a different way. It works like it's supposed to, but because Grack is a living being whose soul - or equivalent spiritual essence - is firmly anchored in his flesh, it looks almost exactly the same as that flesh. A lot of the subtle details that might conceivably differ between the two, as the soul reflects inner qualities not immediately apparent in the body, are thus obscured and not helpful.
Switching your Fairy Sight to active and focusing your Ki Sight on Grack are arguably the most productive of the additional uses of your enhanced senses, and they don't really tell you anything you didn't already know or at least suspect. Grack's Fae-tinged, not-quite-youki life-essence is surging through him as much as your ki is through you, and is lower now than it was at the start of your brawl, but it's still going strong.
Gained Fairy Sight E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Honestly, trying to use this many different sensory modes accomplishes little except to give you a mild headache. Concentration only goes so far when you're trying to make sense of half a dozen different spectra be it in tandem or in quick succession, much less when you're doing it in the middle of a fight.
While your mind is guiding more aggressive scans of Grack's aura, the rest of you tries to shift your stance and footwork, in the hope of throwing Grack off to produce one last opening. This... doesn't go so well.
The Five Elements Style is the foundation of your unarmed fighting skills, with only your experience in amateur wrestling even coming close to rivaling it. Equally critically, Lu-sensei's school is the basis of your grasp on the ki techniques that are currently half of what's enabling you to keep up with Grack, and the way the techniques of life-force manipulation and physical combat are designed to work so seamlessly together effectively sabotages your efforts to fight differently.
You don't quite stumble, but there's a moment when you're trying to change forms that your footing and everything built atop it just aren't what they need to be.
*POW!*
The next thing you know, you're laying on your back, looking up at the sky with a sore face, while Grack stands tall above you, both fists raised to the sky in a declaration of triumph.
"Grack wins!" the troll roars to the sky.
Maybe it's the pounding in your head, but for a moment, you think you hear distant thunder.
Trollish victory.
Gained Raiden's Favor E (Plus)
Wait, that's a thing, now?
Then Grack lowers his fists, looks down at you, and grins. So. Many. Teeth. "Good fight, Alex."
"Good fight, Grack," you reply, doing your best to ignore all the sharp and pointy parts of his smile, and meet it in the spirit in which it was given.
Then you wince, as your face begins to complain about being clobbered by a troll-sized fist.
"Paging Dr. Briar," you groan.
In a blur of sparkling light, your partner appears, hovering a few feet above you.
"This is a stupid question, seeing as how you just got worked over by a troll and all," Briar says, "but I'll ask it anyway: how do you feel?"
"I think I may have a Gracked skull," you answer.
There is a pause.
That. Was. Horrible.
Then Grack once again throws back his head and roars with laughter.
Bwahahahaha!
"Grack LIKE that one!" the troll chortles. "Grack will remember it. 'Gracked skull.' HAHAHA!"
Briar waits until your opponent's howling hilarity has died down a bit before she speaks again.
"Just for that," she advises you, "I am tempted to let you heal on your own."
Gained Trolling C (Plus) (Plus)
"I'll be good," you promise.
Briar mutters something that sounds like, "Yeah, right," but she does start looking you over.
At one point in the examination, Briar takes out the tiny wand that you sometimes see her use, wills the tip to light up, and makes you follow it with your eyes.
You consider pointing out how hard it would be to do that when you aren't potentially concussed, but you DID promise to stop annoying your partner, so you hold your tongue.
Lu-sensei and Dave appear next to you while Briar works, and you're struck by how small the two of them suddenly seem to be. You were taller than Dave even before you cast the Spell to Enlarge A Person, and that takes some of the shock out of that particular revelation, but when it hits you that you're nearly twice as your master... well.
"How is he, Briar?" Lu Tze asks.
"His sense of humor is a total loss," the fairy says dryly, "but that's nothing new. Aside from that? No broken bones, no concussion, no internal bleeding or organ damage. With the exception of those claw-marks on his chest, it's just bruising. Lots and lots of bruising." You can hear her smile. "Like I said, I am tempted to leave him to heal on his own, so that he properly appreciates the consequences of his actions."
You wince. Evidently Briar was even less pleased by your decision to fight Grack than you'd thought she might be.
Maybe you should have warned her before you went and challenged the big guy?
"That does sound tempting," Lu-sensei agrees. "Still, there are methods of encouraging such appreciation, and greater forethought, that don't involve letting the boy go home with a face that looks like a slab of tenderized beef."
...okay, you're starting to worry a little about how well Grack worked you over.
Also, Lu-sensei is using the Enlightenment Voice again. You DEFINITELY should have let him know you were going to fight Grack, before you made your challenge.
You turn to look to Dave. "'Slab of beef?'"
"You do look pretty pulverized," he admits. "Also... huge, which honestly makes it worse, 'cause there's just so much MORE face to be all beat up, you know?"
You're starting to, anyway.
Incidentally, facing Dave has let you see Balthazar, who has the four beat-up "Beanie Meanies" back on their feet. All four of them are staring at you with varying degrees of shock, while the sorcerer... actually looks pretty chill about the entire thing.
You get the feeling Balthazar has seen worse.
The sight of the Sorcerer of the Seven-Hundred and Seventy-Seventh Degree immediately brings your attention back to the OTHER experienced sorcerer you've met today, whose scrying sensor is still hovering near Balthazar. It occurs to you that, while you and Briar are far enough away that the Bronx sorcerer wouldn't be able to "see" her heal you, his cronies would see and report that you had SOME kind of high-speed healing magic available to you.
Perhaps you should ask Briar not to heal you, until those guys are gone?
Security concerns aside, giving Briar the chance to express her displeasure and "learning your lesson" by going without healing for a bit might smooth things over.