Xander Quest Chapter 299: The End (of the Eighth Year) Has Come! 7, a private fanfic

A move comes to mind that feels entirely appropriate for finishing this match. It will allow you repay your opponent's crushing bear-hug in kind, target his obvious weak-point, and conclude with another high-powered body slam like the ones you've been using to such good effect.

And it just so happens that with his legs taken out from under him, and you more or less standing upright, Jermafencer is at just about the right height for you to perform the technique you had in mind.

Your rocky arms, proportionately longer than they are in your natural form, tighten their hold upon your foe. Even with that increased reach, the difference in your sizes is such that you still can't quite get your arms all the way around Jermafencer's torso, but it's enough to ensure your hold.

"What the-"

"Prepare thyself, Sir Knight!" you boom in the voice of an avalanche.

And then, fitting deeds to words - and especially the sound of those words - you bring the boulder that is your head forwards to smash into the Hyrulean warrior's brow.

"WISDOM!"

Headbutt.

"OF THE!"

Headbutt.

"RAGING!"

Headbutt.

"BOOOOAAAARRRR!"

And, once again roaring with exultation more than exertion, you lift the dazed Jermafencer bodily off of the floor and bring him down in a suplex.

One last time, Power flares, sand explodes-

SLAM!

-the very room around you seems to shake under the impact-

CLANG!

CRASH!

CLATTER!

-and then, with a clatter of armored plates, Jermafencer's body falls over backwards, limp as a boned fish. At the same moment, his two free-floating helmets fall from the air, crashing loudly upon the rocky floor.

Gained Grappling C
Gained Headbutt E++
Gained Power Slam F++
Gained Wisdom of the Raging Boar F+

You wait a moment longer, to see if this indeed the end, and when the Knight of the Shadowed Mire fails to rise or speak - or even twitch - you allow your Maximum Power to disperse once again. The pocket sandstorm that had been whirling around you all this time fades along with the golden Power, leaving a small carpet of glittering dust on the floor; you also feel the Spell of the Flaming Aura gutter out, unable to endure a second use of that potent, magic-consuming technique.

"Been a while since you used that one," Briar says suddenly.

You turn your misshapen head with a grind of gravel, and narrow gleaming eyes at your partner. "And where were you during that fight?"

"You're a hard kid to keep up with when you're zipping around at super-speed, you know?" Briar replies easily. "Just because I know how to use your glowy kung fu, doesn't mean I'm as good at actually using it, especially since it wasn't really designed for fairies or flying people. Plus, when you ducked out of sight, I figured it would be a really dumb idea to lead Helmethead-"

Even unconscious, Jermafencer twitches at the sound of the despised nickname.

"-straight to you, so I flew that way instead." She points at the corner of the room that was behind you and to your right when you first materialized in this chamber, more or less opposite the part of the room where you hid from Jermafencer while you were turning yourself into an earth elemental. "I figured that, since he had to know about fairy partners, he'd assume that I had to be fairly smart for a little fairy, and that I'd be trying to psyche him out. So if I flew one way in a hurry, like I was trying to get back to my partner, he should take it as evidence you were actually in the OTHER direction. And then he followed me anyway, because it was obviously a trick, and a little fairy wouldn't think up to the second level of misdirection."

...fairy logic. Gah.

Still, it appears to have worked out in your favor.

"After that," Briar continues, "you turned into a rock-man and went underground - and then you started glowing and shooting sand all over the place, which was new and exciting and exactly the sort of thing I shouldn't get mixed up in, because I'm all tiny, delicate, and easily-crushed, even with the glowy kung fu."

Okay, that part is fair enough.

"Speaking of easily-crushed," your partner goes on, as she zips down to investigate your midsection, "that looked like a pretty rough wrestling match from where I was floating. Anything broken in there?"

"Feels more like bruises," you rumble in response. "Or whatever an earth elemental would call that."

"Probably something like 'compression,'" Briar notes.

Gained Terran E+

Now that she's brought your attention back to it, you take stock of all your resources. Physically, you feel okay; not perfect, but not so bad that you'd need anything more than the most minor healing spell to patch up the damage. Your ki is more diminished, down to about three-quarters of full, while your mana has been drained a fair bit further, whether in relative or absolute terms. Thirteen-twentieths, give or take.

As the result of fighting six consecutive battles without pause, one of them being against Dark Link, this feels like a pretty good result.

Still, you have three rounds left in the Trials.

Are there any quick preparations you'd like to make at this point?

What about your current form? Though weakened by exposure to your Maximum Power, the Spell of the Elemental Body still has a few minutes left in it, and based on all your previous challenges, odds are good that you'll end up in another chamber with stone floors, whether natural or worked. Being able to move underground worked out very nicely against Jermafencer, despite your fuzzy awareness of his flying helmets.

In short, do you want to keep this form a while longer?

And speaking of Jermafencer... well, after your decision not to finish off helpless, human-looking opponents for the sake of your family and less violence-prone friends' sensibilities, you're not about to perform a Finishing Blow on the fallen knight, who actually IS a person, and moreover, engaged in friendly conversation and banter with you during this match.

But you do prop him up against the nearest pillar, and then start collecting his sword, shield, and helmets to pile up against a different pillar, to make it clear you knocked him cold, disarmed him, and are claiming the win on those grounds. He's behaved in a sufficiently-honorable manner thus far that you trust no additional measures will be required.

After the showing it helped you to make in this Trial, you are strongly tempted to leave the Spell of the Elemental Body up and running, so that you can carry it into the next round with you, but after careful consideration, you decide to let it lapse.

The spell doesn't last terribly long under normal circumstances, and after getting run through Maximum Power, its remaining energy was pretty low. The way the last couple of fights have gone, odds are that you're going to need your super-technique in the next match, and the idea of your elemental transformation just failing in the middle of the fight is not a pleasant one.

Especially not if you were in the floor at the time.

Brrr.

As your rocky shape collapses, shifts, and softens back into your familiar flesh-and-blood form, you start feeling the aches from your battle with Jermafencer a little more keenly. A body made of Elemental Earth doesn't register pain and injury the same way a human body does, and the sudden transition probably makes all the little complaints FEEL worse than they truly are.

Then again, papercuts can sting like crazy.

To address the issue of your bruises and deal with future injuries in advance, you dig through your repertoire of divine magic and witchcraft, until you find the Spell of Persistent Vigor. This Spell of Augmentation effectively supercharges the body's natural defenses for a short time: wounds that would normally bleed instead clot and scab almost instantly; the immune system goes after disease vectors and ongoing infections with a vengeance; and several days' worth of healing take place in less than a minute.

Of course, the spell has such a short duration that it would probably run out on its own before you even GOT to the next Trial, much less before you had a chance to use Maximum Power. Fortunately, you can just add more mana and alter the spell's formula to make it last longer. You mentally review the elements of the spell-script that control the "healing factor," trying to see how you might increase its effectiveness, but the concepts involved are beyond your current understanding of how the human body works, and you're wary of poking at them as a result.

You spare a moment to allow that magic to settle in, and to enjoy how your various minor complaints stop complaining, before casting a more familiar Spell of Augmentation to boost all of your abilities. Since you also need to increase the duration of this spell to compensate for Maximum Power's detrimental side-effects, its effectiveness is slightly reduced from what would otherwise be possible, but it's a trade you're perfectly content to make.

Gained Augmentation B+

That is all the spellcasting you think you have time for. You are tempted to investigate the golden sand that still covers the floor where you and Jermafencer were wrestling, but quite aside from your resolution to conserve mana where possible during the Trials, you have to admit that this is really not the best time to indulge your scientific and magical curiosity.

As a compensation prize, you get out your Hylian Glass Bottle and quickly fill it about halfway with the glittering sand, for later investigation.

Gained Power (?) Sand

Tucking the Bottle away, you take out one of your Mana Gems, and study it closely under your Mana Sight, which is still going from when you activated it earlier.

Then you clench your fist around the Gem, shattering it.

Lost 1 Mana Gem (Low Grade)

You're sure it looks very dramatic from the outside, but when you know the trick, it's really not that impressive - after all, it's not actually your physical strength that broke the Gem, not even with the Spell of Augmentation running. It was you drawing upon the mana stored inside, mana that had ruptured the Gem's crystalline structure when it was infused into the stone in the first place, and thereafter acted like a kind of glue to hold the little jewel together.

Remove the glue, and the whole Gem just falls apart into powder, which - likely because it was conjured in the first place - quickly dissipates in a cloud of sparkling energy.

It's one of several flaws in the creation process that you're working on getting rid of. Capacity, efficiency, accessibility, re-usability, cost... the list of shortcomings in your current generation of Mana Gems is considerable.

But for all of that, they work, as the replenishment of the mana you just spent enhancing your body, and half again as much more besides, rapidly proves.

Reflexively brushing your hands to remove the dust that has already dissolved back into the aether, you turn to Jermafencer, reach out, and shake his shoulder lightly.

The knight's eyes open with a flash, and he jerks upright, booming, "WHO GO-oooohhhh, my head..."

Only to curl forward, wincing, with both hands pressed to his skull.

"Merciful Nayru," Jermafencer groans. "What hit me?"

"That would be Alex's harder-than-usual skull," Briar says helpfully. "Several times in rapid succession, actually. Although the floor seems to have been what really finished you off."

The Knight of the Shadowed Mire glances at her, and then at you, barely even having to tilt his head to do so. Being that tall has its advantages.

"...now I remember," he says, as he leans back against the pillar. "Well, then. I do believe suffering a knockout blow counts as my loss." He raises a hand in salute. "Congratulations, young Alexander. While you are not the first to best me, you are the youngest to do so in battle."

Something about the way he says that catches your interest.

"Six Trials down, three to go," Jermafencer notes. "I wish you luck, young Alexander. You're going to need it."

With that ominous proclamation, the Knight of the Shadowed Mire and his piled equipment vanish, as the Trial chamber shifts for the sixth time.

And once again, you're back in darkness, broken by the image of glowing magical arrays built into the floor and nearby pillars.

Drawing your Blessed Blade and re-activating your shield, you take a defensive stance as the torches that line the walls light up, revealing what is almost a perfect mirror-image of the room you just left, save for three details.

First, and most trivially, the stone is decidedly darker here, and contrives to make the chamber appear less well-lit, even though there are just as many torches as there were in the last room, and all of them burn as brightly as their predecessors.

Second, and somewhat concerningly, there is no enemy visible where Jermafencer was standing.

Finally, and most seriously of all, you can feel an aura of powerful magic filling the room. It is utterly unlike the power of the protective enchantments worked into the stone, a sinister shadow that eclipses even Batreaux's aura of DARKEST SORCERY.

Before your eyes, that magical darkness focuses and takes shape, revealing a being as tall as Jermafencer, but clad in the robes of a magic-user rather than the arms and armor of a warrior. Dark and heavy, the robe covers its wearer from head to toe in folds of midnight velvet, marked with symbols of bone white, blood red, and the coldest hue of gold you can ever remember seeing. Voluminous sleeves that trail almost to the floor are currently held folded across the chest, revealing nothing of the arms within, while the huge hood frames a void as dark as an overcast night sky, broken only by two pale points of yellow-white light that gleam within.

The sorcerer - for it can be nothing else - wears only a single visible ornament of power, a medallion that appears to have been fashioned from a single human - or Hylian - skull.

GUARDIAN OF SORCERY: CAROCK

And then, as quickly as it appeared, the Carock vanishes again, its energy blending seamlessly into the aura of dark magic that fills this chamber.

Your lingering active Mage Sight and Ki Sight reveal nothing.

"Not good!" Briar exclaims.

While you imagine Jermafencer has a few interesting tales to tell, you have to admit that this isn't the best choice for story time.

Maybe later.

Not wanting to just stand around waiting for your enemy to attack, you dash for the gap between the columns to your right, gathering ki as you move.

"Can you find him, Briar?" you ask your partner.

"I'm looking, I'm looking!" she replies, as she starts making short flights in different directions above you. "But you're the one with the super-senses!"

"I'm a little busy at the moment!"

You just saw the Staggered Flicker technique being used for the first time today, and you have yet to attempt it under combat conditions yourself. Still, you think you have the basic form of the technique locked in - you'll have to wait and see when the Carock re-appears from wherever he went.

It doesn't take long for that to happen.

"Behind you!" Briar shouts.

Turning on your heel, you see the giant sorcerer's shadowy form looming about fifteen feet away, arms raised over his head as the all-pervading aura of dark magic intensifies. A wave of translucent force some four feet high and twenty wide shoots forth from the Carock's position, sweeping across the floor at speeds that a normal human couldn't outrun.

Fortunately, you have ki.

Gained Staggered Flicker E

As this is your first use of Staggered Flicker, and you're not yet sure just how far it will allow you to travel, you limit yourself to side-stepping the Carock's attack, which slams into the pillar that was behind you a split-second earlier. The central part of the "wave" dissipates with a hiss and crackle, as the wards built into the pillar glow briefly brighter; the two "arms" of the attack continue on, however, until they reach their own end-points in pillars beyond.

Even as you crane your neck to watch the display, your feet are carrying you towards your opponent, while your arms ready your sword and shield.

Rather than meet your charge, the Carock begins to fade from sight again.

"Do you think he's using teleportation?" you ask Briar. "It seemed a little too slow to reappear for that..."

"He might be Shadow-Walking," your partner offers. "Or using a Spell of Invisibility that re-establishes itself after he attacks?"

Maybe, but why not just cast a Spell of Greater Invisibility, and stay unseen the whole time?

Aside from some form of inter-planar movement or invisibility, the other explanation you can think of for the Carock's disappearing trick is that he's using Transformation Magic to turn himself into something that's too small or too diffuse for you to see.

A shadow suddenly falls over you, and you immediately trigger your Staggered Flicker-

-evading the Carock's force-wave and ending up just within arm's reach of him, as a second force-wave goes shooting past, close enough that the wind of its passage pulls at your Warmage's Robe.

Without hesitation, your sword lashes out-

-and goes right through the cloak and the body beneath as though they weren't even there.

THAT has never happened before, and for all that you knew there were creatures immune to physical harm, as well as spells capable of bestowing the same trait, the shock of your first real encounter with the effect leaves you off-balance.

The Carock's hooded eye turns your way, eyes glinting wickedly as he lets out a high-pitched, eerie cackle.

Then he vanishes once more.

Also, your Staggered Flicker just wore off.

Two Flickers per use, huh? Not much, but considering that it cuts your ki expenditure by better than half, you go ahead and renew the technique.

The next time the Carock reappears, he's all the way down the pillared hall, far enough that you don't feel the need to expend part of your newest ki technique the avoid the attack. As you run out of the path of the oncoming force-wave, you gather your mana and ki, readying your first answer to the Carock's unpredictable movement.

When he disappears again, you activate your Power Sense, sending a ring of golden energy surging out across the room, to rebound off all the nearby surfaces and make its way back to you.

Gained Power Sense D

The Carock does not suddenly fall into visibility, or appear as a gold-limned shadow in your awareness, but you do briefly get a much better reading on the magic that fills the room. There is a powerful aura of Abjuration Magic laid over everything and filling the air besides, clearly designed to "blind" common Divination Magic, and to interfere with more powerful forms of information-gathering sorcery. You also pick up an undifferentiated aura of Elemental Magic from where the Carock's force-waves have swept across the floor.

Most importantly, however, are the strong traces of Summoning Magic left behind where the sorcerer himself has stood.

With this confirmation of how the Carock is moving around, you gather your mana, trigger one of your Staggered Flickers to avoid another attack from relatively close range, and cast a spell to neutralize your foe's movements.

A green haze falls over the room as the Spell of Dimensional Locking takes effect. Normally, such magic lasts for days at a time, but since you only need a few minutes at most, you cheerfully altered the spell's formula, trading away the bulk of that duration for a larger area of effect - one great enough to fill the entire hall, and then some.

Gained Abjuration B++

The Carock had been in the middle of disappearing again when you cast, and as your spell takes hold, the enemy sorcerer is visibly WRENCHED back into full view, staggering from the sudden resistance to its passage put up by the reinforced local space-time.

The hooded head turns your way once again, this time to glare.

Then the Carock raises its arms again, and it occurs to you that a powerful sorcerer would be every bit as capable of countering a spell meant to block cross-dimensional travel as you are of casting one.

Granted, he might be doing something else - the distance between you, and the rapidly-returning magical interference, makes it impossible to say - but you just took away the Carock's mobility advantage. You know that if you were in his position, you'd be ticked off and wanting to do something about that.

Nayru damn it, you just got that Dimensional Lock up and running! You're not going to sit by and let the Carock dispel it without a fight, especially when the alternative is going back to him blinking around the room at will like he was before!

With that thought in mind, you gather your mana.

There's a certain art to the act of battlefield counterspelling, and it's one you haven't had a lot of practice with. Part of that is due to your relative lack of encounters with unfriendly magic-users, another part is a lack of personal attention given over to this particular aspect of the mystic arts, and the rest is down to Batreaux being understandably reluctant to conduct live-fire exercises in the confines of your Mirror Hideaway. Or indeed, anywhere in your house.

Still, under these circumstances, you have the advantage of knowing exactly what spell the Carock is targeting, and what magic he is most likely using. There's no special counter for the Spell of Dimensional Locking, as far as you know, and that means the shadowy sorcerer must be using some variation on the second best friend of all magic-users - the Spell to Dispel Magic.

All you have to do, then, is cast that same spell - or for preference, its more powerful derivation - before the Carock finishes its chanting.

Your enemy's flamboyant method of casting helps you out here as well, buying an extra second or so, and you dive into your spell-chant with a will, but even so, you aren't quite done casting when the Carock brings his arms down, aiming both of them in your general direction.

For a moment, you feel your Dimensional Anchor strain under the pressure of the hostile magic. Not only that, your spells of self-enhancement come under attack as well, as the Carock lashes out at all magic not his own within a wide radius.

But then you finish your own chant, and thrust your left hand forward, fingers splayed.

Something in the air before you hums, and the Carock takes a step backwards, glowing eyeslits widening in surprise as your magic slams into his. Then they narrow, and the sorcerer's billowing sleeves press together, hands curling around each other and claw-like index fingers pointing at you like the barrel of a particularly twisted gun. The pressure that was bearing down on your other spells does not let up, but is instead redirected and focused against your attempted counterspell.

For a long moment, the two of you stand like that, while the space between you begins to glow, then crackle, and then groan under the force of the clashing magics.

And then, with a sudden absence of conflicting pressures that leaves you briefly staggering, the two spells cancel out.

Gained Counterspelling F+

You are not the only one stunned by the side-effects of the successful counterspelling; the Carock physically recoils, as if buffeted by a small explosion, and spares you another angry, slit-eyed, glowing glare from within the darkness of his hood.

Even as your opponent begins to gather mana for a new spell, you're gathering energy of a different type. The Carock has demonstrated some form of intangibility, and as it happens, you have a spiritual technique that enables your weapon to strike incorporeal entities as if they were at least semi-solid.

Gained Spiritual Imbuement E++

As your spiritual energy pours into your Blessed Blade, the Carock raises his arms in that "I am casting a spell!" pose he seems to like so much.

You take that as a sign to trigger your remaining Staggered Flicker-

-closing the distance, bringing your sword around-

-and this time, whether it's because of the technique you just used, or because the green haze covering everything in the room interferes with the Carock's defense against physical weaponry, your Blessed Blade bites into the robe and something beneath it.

But only for a moment, before the Spell of Flight the Carock just cast lifts it up and out of your striking range.

Left hand pressed to its side where your sword found purchase, the Carock's eyes fairly BURN in anger as it all but claws at the air before it with its right hand, unleashing another blast of force. This one is more circular in shape, over ten feet across and curving back at the edges, from which trail jagged, sparkling plumes of colorless magical energy. Visually, the overall effect is a bit like that of a short-tailed comet.

With your Staggered Flickers used up, you have to fall back on the standard Body Flicker to avoid the attack, and even that only gets you out of the path of the main impact; when the cone-shaped blast strikes the floor, it sends out a much smaller shockwave that races out from the point of impact in all directions. You take no harm from this "aftershock," but the way it makes the floor tremble, even at the distance you reached, almost costs you your footing. Had you been much closer to the source, you would likely have been knocked over.

You're not a complete novice to the art of mid-air combat, but you're a long way from being an expert at it, and the idea of taking on a high-level sorcerer who is even slightly proficient at magical flight does not strike you as a good idea.

You're similarly reluctant to take to the air via your Boots of Air Walking under these circumstances. While they would get you off the ground and out of reach of the floor-shaking shockwaves the Carock just demonstrated the ability to produce, they'd also cost you the ever-useful ability to dodge at high speed - that's pretty much a deal-breaker right there.

This leaves you with your feet on the ground, charging up another use of the Staggered Flicker technique as you visually track the Carock's flight path, seeking some clue as to what his next move will be.

The sorcerer rises until his hood is almost level with the buntings that line the ceiling, the hem of his cloak billowing about in the breeze a good thirty feet off the stone floor. He circles your position, weaving around the pillars and turning slowly to keep you in his line of sight as much as possible, and begins dropping force-waves at a slow, experimental pace.

It quickly becomes clear that the Carock's current altitude is working against him more than it does for him. Yes, he's safely beyond the reach of your Blessed Blade, even if you were to try jumping, but he's NOT beyond the reach of your Sword Beam, as you take the time to demonstrate - it's not a hit, but the way the sorcerer lurches to one side to avoid the blast that flies over his shoulder is rather satisfying to see all the same. Morover, the extra distance, combined with the slower speed of the Carock's Spell of Flight compared to that blinking effect he was spamming earlier, as well as his obvious "tell" whenever he's about to attack, gives you that much more time to anticipate and evade his assault. With your Spell of Augmentation still going strong, you don't even need to trigger your Staggered Flicker to get clear of the secondary shockwaves, not even when the sorcerer hovers directly overhead, minimizing the distance between you.

You are caught on the outermost fringes of that last blast, but it's only enough to stagger you, not knock your feet out from under you entirely.

The Carock halts his attacks after that, and continues to circle you, his posture radiating annoyance and contemplation.

Then - after you send another casual Sword Beam his way - the sorcerer visibly gathers himself up before swooping down at you in an all-out diving attack, arms spread wide and cloak billowing like the wings of some gigantic Keese.

Seeing your opportunity, you rush forward, triggering your Staggered Flicker to dodge UNDER the force-wave when it manifests, and then kicking off the floor afterwards, sword raised above your head in an almost vertical thrust-

-which connects with SOMETHING under the Carock's billowing robe, before your relative velocities carry you past each other.

Gained Jump Thrust F

Knocked into a spinning roll from the impact, the sorcerer struggles to regain control of his magical flight-

-only to careen backwards into one of the pillars, arms flying out to the sides and wrenching back in a way that is unpleasant just to look at. You fancy you can hear the Carock's bones creaking from the impact, and you CAN actually see his glowing eyes bulge with shock and pain.

And then the next Sword Beam you were charging up takes him in the chest, just below that skull medallion.

Hissing in pain and anger, the sorcerer drags himself away from the pillar and flies around behind it, getting himself out of your line of fire. You move to circle around to your right, but the Carock drifts just far enough to your left to see how you're moving, and positions himself to counter your advance. You try circling around the other way, and he flings a force-blast at the ground ahead of you, driving you back into the "shadow" of the pillar as the shockwave passes around it.

"Think that last combo hurt him?" Briar speculates.

"It definitely made him cautious," you reply, while pondering your next move.

You don't like the idea of giving the Carock time to work another spell. He's not in position to try dispelling your Dimensional Lock again, but you have no way of knowing what other tricks he might have at his disposal, and that makes it annoyingly hard to plan ahead.

Maybe you should Body Flicker around the pillar, and perform another of those vertical stabs? Or you could take this chance to cast a spell of your own, pass it to Briar for delivery, and then act as a decoy to give her the opening she needs to catch your target.

In your recent rematch with the Gohma, you dealt with their numbers and mobility - not to mention the sheer size of their parent - by the simple expedient of making the area they occupied exceptionally inhospitable to demonic arachnid life. Area denial, you think it's called.

You're going to practice a similar tactic here.

Part of you wants to anchor the spell you're about to cast to the Carock himself, so that no matter where the flying sorcerer tries to flee, the effects will stay with him, but you quickly dismiss this as a bad idea. For one thing, you'd need unbroken line of sight to the Carock to "hit" him with such a spell, and as a sorcerer, he'd be well-suited to sensing and resisting what you were trying to do. On top of that, you have no special protection against the magic you're about to unleash, beyond the open space you mean to leave in its area of effect; if you centered the spell on the Carock and he moved in your direction, you'd be just as badly affected as he is.

Potentially worse, actually, seeing as how your own magic affects you just fine, while being slightly less effective than usual against adults.

Instead, you devote extra mana to increasing the space the spell will fill, until it stretches from wall to wall and ceiling to... well, not ALL the way to the floor, but far enough down that the Carock would have to land to avoid what's about to come.

As you work your magic, the aura of dark magic within the chamber shifts again, telling you that the Carock is once more casting a spell of his own, just as you feared he would if left alone long enough.

There's no help for that now, though; you'll just have to see which one of you picked the better spell.

As your spell-chant progresses, the air above you goes from silent stillness to whispering movement. Motes of dust appear, as if blown out of the long-untended corners of the chamber, and as the sighing draft rises to a moaning breeze, they grow individually larger and far more numerous. By the time you complete the Spell of the Scouring Winds, a howling vortex of wind and sand is swirling over your head, its arms lashing over and around the pillars that line the room. Everything more than a few feet above your head has simply vanished from sight and hearing, swallowed by the indoor sandstorm you've conjured up.

For a moment, you stand there, staring at what you've wrought. This storm speaks to something deep within you, bringing forth a sense of nostalgia and wariness, vague memories of hot days and cold nights spent within strong walls, hiding from the wrath of the Goddess of the Sands...

You shake off that eerie impression and look around for the Carock, and the evidence of whatever spell he was weaving. The lower ten feet of the chamber are mostly clear of your conjured storm, apart from some errant gusts and drifting dust kicked up in response to the complicated shifts in air pressure going on higher up. They're also clear of the Carock, suggesting that he's still flying - and thus, caught in the storm.

Weapon, ki, and magic at the ready, but not quite combined for the technique you have in mind to use next, you begin moving down the hall at a brisk walk, senses on alert and head sweeping back and forth.

And then, with a hiss that is part anger and part sand scything across the magical force-field that now surrounds him, the Carock emerges from the bottom of the stormcloud a short distance away. He doesn't quite land, instead using his Spell of Flight to hover along the floor at a reasonable turn of speed, and while his back isn't turned to you, he also isn't facing you straight-on.

Looks like your spell turned him around enough to lose track of your position. That buys you just enough time to shape the technique you want to use.

Your Blessed Sword begins to vibrate as you wreathe it in Power, the movements starting as a low-pitched hum and rapidly rising to the unpleasantly high-pitched "shriek" you've heard when you used the Power Blade skill in the past. It's not the scream of tearing steel - not YET - and you don't intend to let it run wild long enough to risk that.

Gained Power Blade F+++

Instead, the instant you're certain the technique is stable, you Body Flicker straight for the Carock, who had already turned towards you and begun to float away from you in response to the light and sound of your skill, his arms rising to unleash yet another of those force-waves.

As you charge in at full throttle, the Carock's movements briefly become as slow as honey. With his arms raised and pulling the fabric of his robe tighter across whatever chest the sorcerer has, the skull medallion that hangs there shifts, almost bouncing.

It practically INVITES an attack.

And it would be rude of you to refuse an invitation, now wouldn't it?

The faint, shimmering force-field surrounding the Carock flares brighter as your crying sword lashes out, and you feel resistance, enough to slow your strike - but not enough to overcome all the strength and momentum behind the blow.

And it doesn't seem to do a thing to stop the flame-like golden energy that wreathes your weapon.

Slowed, but not stopped, your two-handed blow smashes into the skull from below and to your left. The sense of resistance instantly spikes, as the magic bound up in the pendant struggles against your shining steel and the blazing energy it brings with it.

Then, with a dazzling discharge of golden light and a wailing scream entirely unlike the Carock's, the medallion shatters, its fragments cast in a dozen different directions on a wave of Power.

Gained Sunder F

The sorcerer recoils, glowing eyes bulging with shock.

Without hesitation, you press your attack. Now moving at a more reasonable speed and trailing wisps of smoke where it touched the medallion instead of arcs of Power, your Blessed Blade has trouble penetrating the magical barrier the Carock raised around himself. After your first follow-up strike fails to penetrate, you fully expect to have to trigger the Staggered Flicker you still have in reserve, to avoid being blasted in the face by a wave of force.

But no such attack comes.

The Carock seems to have abandoned any thought of offense in favor of putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. Indeed, you can see him rising back towards the sandstorm, evidently willing to entrust his safety to that physical attack-deflecting barrier and accept being unable to see where you are, if it means you'll be similarly blind to his movements and unable to reach him with your sword.

You don't want to lose track of the Carock, so you dismiss the Spell of Scouring Winds before he can use it to break your line of sight. The indoor sandstorm doesn't disappear instantly, but it does begin to die down with unnatural swiftness, dust and grit falling from the air like the driest rain ever.

The sudden loss of his expected cover doesn't stop the sorcerer's retreat; instead, he merely flies behind the nearest of the pillars, and once again starts maneuvering to keep it between the two of you.

Annoying, but whatever.

In the scant seconds it takes your foe to re-position himself, you channel ki into your Blessed Blade, charging up a Sword Beam, and also begin gathering and shaping mana for a new spell - hopefully, a final one. As you reach the end of the casting, you trigger a low-end Body Flicker, using just enough energy to circle far enough around the pillar that it's no longer blocking your line of sight to the Carock.

To your complete lack of surprise, the sorcerer is casting another spell of his own, but you have enough of a lead on him to get yours off first.

The Spell of Telekinesis has limits to the amount of weight it can affect in a single casting, and the Carock is tall enough that, even if the body hidden beneath those heavy robes has the thin, frail build of a classical magic-user, he might be pushing those limits. Then there's the effects of the Spell of Flight to consider; your magic has to overcome the supernatural "lift" generated by that spell, especially if and when the Carock instinctively reacts to the sudden downwards pull on his person by willing himself to fly upwards faster.

In light of those factors, you poured more mana into the spell, and tried to ratchet up its weight limitation as far as it would go, but even then, there's a moment of resistance where you fear that your magic won't work.

Then the invisible hand of the spell drags the bug-eyed, shrieking, and still-struggling Carock down to the stone floor with a crash.

The instant he's down, you spring, intent on finishing this fight with a single blow!

But even though he's too dazed from that sudden, enforced crash-landing to try to slide out from under your strike, the Carock is not unprotected. That force-field flickers back into existence around him at the instant your Blessed Blade threatens to pierce his robe, and while it doesn't stop the ki-charged strike, which has all of your weight and the momentum of your jump behind it besides, it does throw your aim off enough to turn what could have been a Finishing Blow into merely a very damaging one.

Gained Leap Attack E+++

The Carock's scream of pain is practically in your face, and despite that, you STILL can't see a hint of his facial features beyond its glowing eyes. Idly, you note that the darkness inside that hood HAS to be magical in nature; there's no other explanation for why you'd be unable to penetrate it this close.

Rather than withdraw your Blessed Blade and spring back to a safe distance, you remain where you are, half-standing atop your fallen opponent, bearing down on your weapon to try and keep him pinned. Again, this undoubtedly wouldn't work if the Carock were a more physically-capable opponent, but as it stands, your superior wrestling technique and magically-enhanced physical parameters seem to be enough to overcome the sorcerer's advantages of age and size.

Though no doubt having a sword shoved through his side as a distraction helps, too.

Deactivating your Vambrace of Force Shielding, you raise your left hand above your head, and gather mana and ki on your upraised palm.

For a moment, and much to your surprise, the Carock stops struggling and stares at the golden Power taking shape in your hand. You can feel the weight of the sorcerer's regard, a curiosity - a wonder, even - that penetrates even the pain and alarm he must be feeling in this situation.

He keeps staring, right up until you slam the Power Ball into his face.

Gained Power Ball E+++

THAT finally does it. Golden energy surges over, into, and THROUGH the prone form of the Guardian of Sorcery with the force of a lightning strike, causing the Carock's body to give a single, violent spasm that throws you right off him. Shoulders and heels pressed against the floor, back arched to the point where it's a wonder you don't hear the spine creaking under the strain-

And then the sorcerer goes limp, and the lights under his hood go out.

A moment later, black smoke begins to billow from the hood, sleeves, and hem of the robe, which deflates almost like a huge, weirdly-shaped balloon as the Carock's body disintegrates within it.

When the robe finally settles on the stone floor, as close to flat as it can get, the Ring of Trials shifts around you again.

After the way the last two challenges went, you are half-expecting to find yourself in another of those ancient stone chambers with all the lights off.

You don't.

Instead, you're standing outdoors, in the middle of a field of dry, not-quite-sandy earth, a scattering of bare stones, and runty-looking tufts of brown grass. There's not a cloud in the sky, and the sun's unobstructed light has produced the kind of hammering heat you're used to experiencing in and around Sunnydale.

With your Force-Shield still switched off, you raise your left hand to shade your eyes as you turn a slow circle, peering into the distance. Try as you might, you don't see a boss monster, or anything that looks like it might be one.

Then a shadow passes overhead.

A very.

Big.

Shadow.

Reluctantly, you look up, and spot the source.

A green, scale-armored body, thirty feet long if it's an inch and half that at the shoulder, heavily armed with four clawed limbs and a thick, lazily-whipping tail that increases its length by another twenty feet.

Two oddly small-looking wings, whose frantic beats nonetheless manage to keep the entire massive beast aloft.

And at the front, looking down at you with the sort of interest cats and raptors alike reserve for mice and other small, helpless mammals they're considering playing with, two reptilian heads at the end of necks only a few feet shorter than the tail.

Then it roars, breathing plumes of fire from each head for added impact.

TWO-HEADED DRAGON: GLEEOK

The Gleeok begins a long, turning descent, giving you enough time to get off a spell or two before it closes the distance enough to start threatening you with its fire-breath.

You use the time to cast the Spell of Greater Invisibility, ratcheting up the duration a couple of steps to ensure that the spell will last as long as this fight does.

Dragons, after all, can take quite a lot of killing.

As you're casting this spell, you remain in your original position, not wanting to give the Gleeok any hints as to which way you're going to run once you're invisible. As the spell takes hold and you vanish from sight, you well and truly scarper, readying a Body Flicker to flash across the dusty-

-wait, no, bad idea. High-speed movement across the sort of dry, mostly-uncovered soil that makes up the greater part of the "floor" for this Trial will kick up a dust cloud, rendering your invisibility moot.

Instead of Body Flickering away, you channel some of the ki you'd built up into your feet, utilizing the Ki Step technique to spread your weight out across a much larger surface area. Then you walk away from your starting point, as quickly as you can go without disturbing the dirt, willing your mana to settle so you can get on with casting your next spell as soon as possible.

While you've been doing all of this, you've been keeping one eye on the Gleeok. The dragon is far from the most graceful flier you've ever seen, but it moves with unsettling speed, and when it notices you fading from mundane sight, it goes into a dive to close the distance between you even faster. As soon as the beast is within range, its two heads shoot forward as far as their long necks will support them, unleashing plumes of dragon-fire that swirl together into a raging, incandescent cloud. The attack spreads out as it travels, and by the time the cone of destruction hits the ground, some fifty feet down, it's almost half again as wide as it is long.

Everything within thirty-five feet of your starting position briefly vanishes under a curtain of roaring destruction.

Fortunately, this doesn't include you or Briar. Even limited to a fast walk, you were able to get clear of the blast radius, but it was still close enough that you feel a wave of uncomfortable heat and pressure along your entire back, just barely shy of reaching painful levels.

Gained Speed B++

The Gleeok flies low over the burned area, a deep, rumbling growl of what sounds like displeasure audible over the wind of its passage and the rain of dust, ash, and small, hot stones kicked up by that disturbance. That sound speaks to something deep in the most primitive parts of your brain, telling you that you are PREY, and prey should RUN from such an enormous, angry, fire-breathing predator as this.

Instead, you hunch forward and cover your mouth to avoid coughing, waiting for the worst of the dust to clear and the monster to move out of hearing range before you cast your next spell.

In light of what just happened, it is entirely understandable that you've chosen the spell in question to be the Spell of Protection From Fire. There will be a short window before the Gleeok can use its flame to the extent it just did once again, but exactly how short is a matter of chance and how well-fed the dragon is. Regardless of how much time you have before then - or more accurately, how little - you're not going to be caught unprepared when the moment comes.

For that matter, neither is Briar. Her natural invisibility is at least comparable to your own spell-given variety, so you didn't bother to include her in your first spell, but you're definitely going to share this magic with your partner, who is currently muttering imprecations from where she's taken refuge in the front of your Warmage's Robe.

"Freaking dragons... gah, this is so unfair! Link never had to face one of these things out in the open! ...I think."

"On that subject," you say, as you gather your mana, "refresh my memory about what we're up against?"

"Gleeok. Multi-headed Underworld dragon. You have to cut off all its heads to kill it, and they'll start flying around on their own and spitting fire when severed."

Oh, THAT doesn't sound at all familiar.

"Some varieties die immediately and completely when the last head is cut off," your partner goes on. "In others, the body dies, but the heads keep going independently until they're killed. Another type can reattach its heads, even if they've all been severed, so you've got to keep them away from the body until it dies." She pauses, and peers out from her current hiding place. "I'm not sure what type this one is..."

The Gleeok, meanwhile, has circled around, bleeding off the momentum of its "bombing run" with another of those wide turns. There's still enough distance between you that you'll be able to cast your Spell of Protection From Fire without fear of the dragon hearing you chant the spell or feeling you move your mana around. That said, however, you're unsure if you'll have time to also cast the Spell of Flight before the Gleeok gets close enough to notice.

The dragon appears to be heading for your last known position. Your scent trail was most likely obliterated by the fire-blast, and you're far enough away from "ground zero" that you aren't worried about the Gleeok catching your scent on the air, unless the wind changes in a very unfortunate and borderline unfair way. With your balance and stealth skills being supplemented by the Ki Step technique, there's a good chance you could just walk to a safe distance and start casting there. Alternately, you could stay put, maximize your stealth, and hope you aren't noticed as the Gleeok goes by.

Or you could just cast the Spell of Flight, taking evasive action as needed. It's not like the dragon's senses will matter that much once you're airborne and moving faster than it, right?

As the Gleeok approaches, you turn around, activate your Boots of Air Walking, and just walk away.

In hindsight, you could have covered more ground if you'd turned the Boots on as soon as you went invisible, probably even enough to be out of reach of the pressure disturbances kicked up by the Gleeok's flaming halitosis and the passage of its body. You're going to chalk your failure to do so up to surprise at fighting an actual dragon.

Now that you HAVE remembered to use your Boots, you make the most of them, giving off no sound and leaving no physical tracks as you stride along the air several inches - and then a foot or so - off the dusty ground.

You glance over your shoulder as you go, checking to see what the dragon is up to, and find that the Gleeok has come in for a landing, touching down almost directly on top of your original position at the center of that circle of smoldering ash and melted stones. While the right head remains raised and on guard, peering about in a slow arc, its partner descends to the charred earth and begins waving back and forth. You're too far away to hear the sniffing and snorting, and at a bad angle to see reptilian nostrils flare, but it's clear that the Gleeok is trying to pick up some hint of your scent.

As you guessed earlier, the incinerated nature of that area has made scent-tracking pretty much impossible.

The Gleeok seems to reach the same conclusion, as its head comes up with an audible growWHOASHIT-!

The dragon's necks extend to their maximum length in opposite directions as its mouths open to spew flame. Then the body turns in place, whipping the dragonfire around to form a short-lived whirlwind of flaming death that reaches a good ten or fifteen feet beyond the perimeter of the already-charred area.

Spell of Protection From Fire or no, you're very glad you decided to get out of there!

Between the distance you've reached and the amount of noise the Gleeok is making right now, you go ahead and cast the Spell of Flight, adding extra mana to extend the duration of the magic, and giving it even more power as you increase the speed. The Gleeok has the advantage of being an experienced flier; you want at least one advantage before you confront it in its own element.

With that done, you deactivate your Boots and let the Spell of Flight take over. Immediately, your speed increases, doubling, then tripling...

It's been a while since you last flew, and you take a few seconds to get used to it again, and just to enjoy the sensation. Once that's done, however, you find yourself far enough away from the Gleeok that you could almost blot it out behind your thumb. You promptly begin an approach, circling around to come up on the monster from behind.

This is made rather easier by the fact that the Gleeok is now sitting back on its haunches in the middle of the ashen ground, its posture radiating frustrated annoyance. Both heads are raised and turned towards each other, and they are growling back and forth in a way that looks like communication - or more correctly, an argument.

"Briar," you murmur, "just how smart is one of these things?"

"Well, they can talk," the fairy offers. There is the sound of a shrug in her voice, and she follows it up by adding, "Whether that makes them intelligent or not is another question."

Fair point. Still, you can't help but wonder what a two-headed dragon would be arguing with itself about...

This is not the first supernatural being you've encountered that has draconic aspects: many of the members of your audience doubtlessly thought that Searfang was dragon enough, even if any serious student of arcane lore could explain why that wasn't the case; and at the other end of the *ahem* scale, there is Altria, who looks nothing like a dragon, yet carries the essence of one all the same.

Conjured construct or no, summoned projection or something stranger, the Gleeok is the first creature you've met in this lifetime that fully qualifies as a dragon. And although your martial instincts are telling you to take advantage of the opening and attack this dangerous foe while you have the advantage of surprise, your curiosity proves the stronger.

Murmuring softly and suppressing the aura as much as possible, you cast the Spell to Comprehend Languages - trading some of the unneeded duration to extend the effect to Briar - and then listen in.

In an instant, the dragon's fierce growls change. A pattern emerges, meaning is revealed, and understanding follows swiftly - all of it, in the span of a second or two.

"-MY fault?" the dragon's right head says defensively.

"I wanted to break off when we saw him disappear," the left head grumbles. "YOU were the one who insisted that we had to keep going!"

"We were in the middle of breathing!" Right exclaims. "You know as well as I do we can't just STOP doing that!"

"We didn't have to blast the ground, though!" Left presses. "We could have sent in a low burst ABOVE this spot, then landed afterwards, picked out the two-legs' scent, and followed it. But no, YOU had to burn everything, INCLUDING the trail! And now look where we are, Mr. Pyromaniac!"

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!"

"What is THAT supposed to mean?"

"Don't play innocent, Brother. Remember that knight last week? Hm? The one that got away because A Certain Sinister Head just HAD to play with his food, and spit fireballs that could be dodged or deflected, instead of simply cooking dinner and being done with it?"

"It was target practice, and you can't prove otherwise."

"The hell I can't!"

...

As Briar starts giggling - by the sound of it, with her hands clasped over her mouth in an attempt to smother the noise - something deep in your soul cringes in what feels like shame.

Are all of Hyrule's major monsters so... petty?

Gained Draconic E

While the Gleeok continues to argue with itself, you reach into your pocket with your shield-hand, taking out your more powerful remaining conjured Mana Gems. Having been tucked away in an other-dimensional space when you cast the Spell of Invisibility, the two crystals aren't invisible themselves, but at this distance, with your fingers wrapped around them and both of the Gleeok's heads looking the other way, they might as well be.

You crush the first Gem and absorb its energy.

"-and oi! Pay attention to me when I'm yelling at you!" Left demands.

"Shush!" Right hisses as he looks about warily. "Did you feel something just now?"

"Like what?"

"Like... a small treasure being stolen from us forever, before we even got a chance to lay eyes on it in the first place?" There is a mournful tone in the dragon's words, and the way the frills on its head and the back of its neck droop adds a sense of pathos.

"...where in the Underworld do you come up with this stuff?" Left wonders.

You glance from the tiny stone clenched between your invisible fingers, to the two-headed dragon that apparently SOMEHOW noticed the destruction of the first Gem, and then back, wondering what tipped the monster off. Mage Sense, maybe?

You aren't sure if you want to accept the idea of ANY creature, even the infamously greedy dragons, having some kind of "Treasure Sense."

Just in case, you start flying away from your current location, circling the Gleeok to its (and your) left as you crush the second Mana Gem.

Lost 2 Mana Gems (Low Grade)

"Nnnnoooo!" Right wails, half-turning the shared body towards where you'd just been, and craning his neck the rest of the way around. "There it is again!"

"Ganon, give me strength..."

"You thieving sorcerer! Stop taking away my treasures before I can take them from yoooouuuu!"

...

...yeah, you think that's about enough of that. This dragon needs to go down before you start pitying your inner Demon King for having to work with this kind of insanity.

And before Briar chokes on her own laughter.

Flying above the Gleeok, and continuing to maneuver so that you're behind the dragon, you start casting the Spell to Conjure a Flurry of Snowballs. Your aim is to take advantage of the weakness to ice and cold that is common among fire-breathing dragons, and also to bypass the typical draconic resistance to magic by creating "real" projectiles. The standard form of the spell would require you to get uncomfortably close to the Gleeok, however, so you add extra mana and then modify the formula to extend its effective range.

This has the convenient side-effect of widening the area of the spell's effect to the point where the Gleeok's entire body will be inside it.

You had some thoughts about increasing the duration of the spell, to turn a single volley of freezing projectiles into an ongoing bombardment, but your limited familiarity with Ice Elementalism works against you here. The best you manage is to make the "snowballs" larger and more numerous.

Modifications made, you complete the spell, and let fly a storm of snowballs - the smallest of which are as big as softballs, while the larger ones are perhaps twice as massive.

"Did you heYIIII!" Right shrieks.

"ColdcoldOWcold!" Left roars in agreement.

Dirt flies and the ground seems to shake as the Gleeok throws itself into a forward roll, performing the largest somersault you have ever seen in a desperate attempt to get out from under the sudden and brutal snowstorm. It doesn't really work out; at best, the dragon manages to stop taking hits all along its back, at the cost of taking a bunch of them to the stomach.

But as the dragon rolls, it also twists and turns, bringing itself around to face the direction the attack came from.

You immediately fly backwards, feeling only hot air as another wave of fire fills the air between you and the monster.

"Did we get him!?" Right demands. "DID WE GET HIM!?"

"Stop roaring and start listening and smelling," Left shoots back. Then that head hisses in pain, as the Gleeok's wings make to flap and flinch instead. "Gah, that stings...!"

Despite the obvious pain, however, the dragon forces its wings to move, sending dust and slush flying as it starts to take off again.

With all the fire the Two-Headed Dragon has thrown around since this Trial began, you're experiencing a considerable temptation to re-cast the Spell of the Flaming Aura and give yourself full immunity to fire once again.

A few things stop you from doing so, however.

One is that the Gleeok is trying to get itself back into the air right now. If you take the time to cast a spell, the dragon is GOING to be properly airborne by the time you're done, and that not only runs directly contrary to your goal of keeping it grounded, it needlessly complicates the battle.

Second, the Gleeok JUST got through spitting a huge gout of fire in your face, and missing. You have another brief window of opportunity to act where the monster can't breathe fire on that level, which renders the need for a spell of energy immunity minimal.

Third, casting the Spell of the Flaming Aura would be the same as saying you don't believe your Spell of Protection From Fire is up to the task. There's a considerable difference between being accepting the tactical limitations of magic, and lacking confidence in it - and you don't lack confidence in ANY of your abilities.

Fourth, you had this brief image of teleporting onto the Gleeok's back and standing there, anchored to its scales with the Ki Step technique, while hacking away at its nearest wing with your Power-infused Blessed Blade. It's a nice image, very epic and all that, but it misses the little detail that dragons, being creatures of considerable supernatural potency, tend to be resistant to magic and other supernatural forces.

You're not sure if teleporting into point-blank range with a dragon would work or not, and this hardly strikes you as a good time to experiment.

You're VERY certain that your Ki Step technique wouldn't work nearly as well on the dragon's armored body as you might like.

And really, you think to yourself, as you shoot towards the beast, which is taking a running start to build up speed as its wings beat. There's no need to go to all that trouble when you have a perfectly good Spell of Flight up and running, and can just tell your magic: "Fly me closer! I want to hit it with my sword!"

Holding the advantage of maneuverability as well as speed, you swoop around the dragon's lumbering form as it claws its way into the air once more, wreathing your Blessed Blade in Power once again as you close in.

Almost instantly, you realize that something feels different about the technique. Whether because you've used it enough to have a breakthrough, or because your Blessed Blade has been exposed to the golden force often enough for something to give, you sense less resistance from your weapon as you channel energy through and around it. That unsettling vibration still happens, going from low-pitched hum to higher-pitched keen, but it doesn't quite hit that distressing, ear-piercing note of excessive strain and impending damage.

Gained Power Blade E

Although your Blessed Blade itself remains concealed by your Greater Spell of Invisibility, the golden glow of Power is in no way impeded by your humble Illusion Magic, filling the air with a seemingly sourceless blaze of light.

The sound is impeded even less.

The Gleeok's right head snaps around. "WHAT THE-!?"

And then, in an action that really has more akin to a ramming attack than a blade thrust, your shining sword strikes the lower length of the dragon's right wing. Charged with Power and driven by the force of your Spell of Flight, your weapon's keen edge cuts through the thick membrane with about as much resistance as cloth, but comes to an abrupt, jarring stop as it hits the bone, tendons, and muscle that provide the framework for the limb.

"YEEEEOW!"

Your cut is interrupted as the Gleeok's wing thrashes wildly, suddenly out of sync with its partner. The air displaced by that sudden movement, your own limited mid-air balance, and a strong desire not to get slapped over the head combine to push you back to a safe-ish distance and get your flight back under full control.

The Gleeok, meanwhile, keeps going in the other direction, too busy dealing with problems of its own to spare a moment for you.

"Keep it steady!" the left head cries, as the whole body wobbles. "Keep it steady!"

"My wing! My beautiful wing!"

"Idiot, we're gonna-!"

THUD.

The Gleeok hadn't quite gotten off the ground when you struck, so this probably doesn't count as a crash landing, but the monster was off to a running start, so it definitely counts as a crash.

Shame there wasn't a cliff or a wall or something right in front of it, but as things stand, the Gleeok is doing a fair impression of a tumbled ragdoll for something the size of a bus.

You float closer, no longer glowing blade at the ready as you look for an opening to go for one of the relatively-vulnerable throats, rather than the scaled backs of the necks; the way they're all crumpled up and twisted around from the impact, necks bent so that the heads are practically touching the trunk of the body, makes it a bit hard to get a clear shot.

"Why me, Demon King?" Left groans, as he spits out ashen earth. "What did I ever do to deserve being stuck with this halfwit who forgets how to FLY in the middle of take-off?"

"I'd like to see you do better with one of those damn Hylian swords slicing through your wing," Right retorts wearily.

Muttering to and between themselves, the heads straighten up and right the body - giving you your moment.

You have two targets to choose between, and your instinct is to go for the one that's been behaving more rationally and *ahem* level-headed than his counterpart. Leaving the head that can at least act intelligently in charge of the Gleeok's entire body would be the greater risk to you, and so, Left needs to go.

You set your Blessed Blade, call on your Spell of Flight for all the speed it can muster, and charge through the air. The Gleeok's necks are quite a bit thicker than the struts of its wings, so even if you were still using the Power Blade technique, you don't expect you'd be able to simply fly by and lop one of the monster's heads off - much less both of them at once, as appealing as that image is - or even that you'd do enough damage to decapitate the left neck with one stroke. And given that you're NOT using Power Blade, after the dragon detected it, your odds of taking Left out in one shot only go down.

Still, if you hit Left's throat hard enough to choke and disorient him, and have your Spell of Invisibility preventing Right from immediately seeing where you are, you may be able to buy time for a follow-up strike from the ground. At the very least, a strangling head will be too busy trying to breathe to spare a thought for you.

ZOOM.

"What was-" Right begins.

CRUNCH!

"Grk!" Left chokes, as your Blessed Blade spears him through the neck.

Gained Flight (Magical) D+++

"Brother!" Right cries as he whips around in alarm. "What happened? Are you hurt? SPEAK TO ME!"

You're nowhere near the line of sight for the glare Left shoots his counterpart at that inane comment, but you can still feel the irritated fury that fills it.

Blood pours forth as you pull your sword free of the dragon's neck, but it's not the great gushing gouts of arterial spray you might have expected. It's worse than any paper cut you've ever had or seen, but the majority of the bleeding seems to be a result of the length of the wound, rather than its depth. The dragon's thick, leathery hide withstood most of the force of the blow.

But you were expecting something like this, and have already willed your Spell of Flight to set you down on the ground, where you adopt a two-handed stance as you prepare the most powerful follow-up strike you can muster-

-only to have to scramble backwards to avoid the sudden stomping and clawing of the Gleeok's left foot.

"Why are you- oh!"

And just like that, the right side of the body joins in. By this point, you've allowed your Spell of Flight to take over for the instinctive response of your legs, and are drifting backwards out of the two-headed dragon's immediate threat range.

Both heads abruptly turn to glare straight down at you.

"Got you now, sorcerer!" Right growls, as he lunges down in a bite.

You pull back faster, avoiding the SNAP of dragon jaws with comparative ease.

"Flying won't save you!" the monster snarls as he rises from his strike. "You have my brother's blood on your blade! WE CAN SMELL YOU!"

You glance at your sword, and wince. It's not just the smell working against you; for all that the dragon's blood is clinging to a magically-invisible weapon, it hasn't become invisible itself, leaving a blackish bloodstain floating about in the air.

And THEN the Gleeok starts shooting fire at you again. This time, it's not one of those great, all-consuming fire-blasts, but a smaller, focused sphere of flame that travels quite a bit faster. Right's aim isn't bad, either, but your magic gives you more than enough maneuverability to dodge the attack - or maybe...

The ball of compressed dragonfire crackles as it tumbles through the air towards you.

Instead of dodging the attack entirely, you hover to one side, will your Spell of Flight to hold you right here, and then raise your Blessed Blade in a batting stance and carefully measure the projectile's approach.

If the Gleeok's attack was nearer the size of an actual baseball, you probably wouldn't try this, but the flaming sphere is quite a bit larger than that, past the domains of soccer and basket balls, and into the realms of beachballs.

Focusing your energies just so, you swing.

Your sword connects with the outer edge of the projectile, and for the briefest instant, you see the crimson flame bend where it meets the aura of your enchanted weapon.

Then the fireball rebounds off of your Hylian steel sword.

"What the-!?" the right head has time to exclaim, before he's struck in the snout by his own attack, returned directly to sender.

Gained Dead Man's Volley E+

The fireball erupts on contact, engulfing most of the Gleook's head.

You aren't sure if that will really hurt the monster or not; as a rule of supernatural thumb, most creatures that are able to breathe fire cannot be burned by it. That said, the fire DOES momentarily blot out that head's senses: eyes blinded by the flash; ears deafened by the low roar of the detonation; nose and tongue smothered in consuming flame.

In the instant of the detonation, Right is metaphorically and literally blind to the world, and will likely need a few seconds to recover his senses from the blast.

And seeing the way the still-wheezing Left recoiled and turned to stare in surprise at his brother's sudden misfortune, you know exactly how to make use of that time.

From your two previous attempts at using your sword on the Gleeok, you know that a Power-backed, Flight-driven strike lacked the sheer force necessary to cut all the way through one of the dragon's wings, much less hack one of the heads off. You need more striking power - something easily achieved by activating Ki Enhancement, which you do now - but more than that, you need the time to land several blows.

You think you know a way to get that time.

Golden light flares anew as you raise your left hand above your head, summoning a Power Ball into being.

Left snaps about to stare at the mass of golden Power growing above your upturned palm. The spiky fins protecting his ears seem to droop, and his mouth moves, but he lacks the air to project whatever words he meant to say.

Despite that, you register amazement in the monster's expression.

Amazement, and something that may be recognition.

Then you let fly.

Whatever his feelings upon seeing the Power Ball form, when it starts shooting at him, the Gleeok's left head immediately moves to avoid.

But that's fine, because you weren't aiming your attack at either of the relatively-mobile heads; instead, you fired it off at the body between them. It's a huge target, and it's being pulled in two different directions besides.

Your Power Ball slams home right over the Gleeok's armored breastbone, causing both heads to rear back and roar - or gasp - in pain as golden lightning crackles along their necks and upper torso.

Immediately, you realize that while the dragon was hurt by that attack, it hasn't been overcome by the momentary paralysis past victims of your Power Ball have displayed. Whether that's your attack failing to overcome this monster's much greater physical fortitude where it easily overpowered less-hearty targets, or some of the legendary vitality of dragons at work, refusing to be lie down in the face of an external threat, you don't know.

But if they aren't properly paralyzed, the Gleeok's heads are sufficiently overwhelmed by the shock and pain of your attack to be open to a follow-up.

The instant you realize that the dragon has been stunned rather than paralyzed by the impact of your Power Ball, you start gathering that golden energy once again.

Even as you do so, you realize you're racing the clock by calling on this technique again. It takes a couple of seconds just to form the Power Ball, much less attack with it, and there's no telling how much or how little time the Gleeok needs to recover from its current state.

Despite that, you press on, willing your Spell of Flight to carry you upwards, changing the angle of your impending attack so that your Power Ball will be coming at the Gleeok's head from above, rather than in the front. This way, if the left head recovers in time to dodge, you'll at least hit the body again, instead of having the Power Ball miss entirely and go flying off into the distance.

Plus, the way both heads are craned back, straining against the fading web of lightning-like energy still crackling along the dragon's body, this gives you a fair line of fire straight down either throat.

Your preferred target is still Left, though.

"Grrrr," Right growls, twitching eyelids narrowing as he catches sight of your ascent and impending attack.

Another sphere of blazing energy snaps into being above your empty left hand.

Gained Power Ball D

...is it your imagination, or does this Ball look larger and brighter than the one you threw a moment ago...?

"Nrrrrgh," Right snarls, fighting against pain, disorientation, and hostile magic to MOVE. His neck jerks forward, the body's right-side leg scrapes along the dusty ground-

Reminded that there is no time for idle musing on the battlefield, you take aim, and let fly-!

-and with a sudden SNAP, the aura of unfriendly Power clinging to the Gleeok is rent asunder, motes of golden light flying in all directions as the monster's body staggers forward and to the right!

Instead of flying down Left's throat as you'd hoped, the Power Ball slams into the middle of the dragon's spiny back.

This time, both heads roar.

Taking the hint that your Power Ball is just a bit too slow in forming to serve the purpose you had in mind for it, you focus your ki on your Blessed Blade, and fly backwards and downwards until your weapon is aimed straight down the Gleeok's left throat.

When the Sword Beam coalesces a moment later, you fire.

Gained Sword Beam D+++

Left recoils with a thunderous howl of pain.

And then you have to dodge, as Right, sufficiently galvanized by the injury to his other half to once again throw off the debilitating aftereffect of your Power Ball, says, "Screw the small stuff" - literally, in fact - and sets fire to everything in your general direction.

Quick as you react to the danger, this time, you're too close to evade the massive, spreading cone of dragonfire in its entirety.

Thank the Goddesses for that Spell of Protection From Fire. The magical barrier flares into incandescent view as it tanks the fire-blast, losing perhaps a fifth of its strength in the bargain before your Spell of Flight yanks you clear of the blast zone.

Seeing as how it means you take zero injury, it's an exchange you're more than happy to make.

"Hex!" Right roars in protest. "I call hex! Ganon damn it; this is why I HATE fighting sorcerers!"

Spewing steam from the blast of the Sword Beam, Left chokes out his general agreement with that statement.

You spend the next twenty seconds or so forming Sword Beams and firing them at the dragon, maintaining the pressure on Left, but the Gleeok has grown wise to the focus of your aggression, and is keeping that head moving, its mouth firmly closed.

"Ha!" Right sneers. "You call that a Sword Beam? Link would WEEP!"

Would that you could say the same for the OTHER mouth.

As you've yet to take any harm - and would have healed it by now anyway; thank you, O Spell of Persistent Vigor - you could keep raining Sword Beams on the dragon indefinitely, but the safe distance you maintain for this little barrage gives its heads time to see what's coming and dodge. You land a couple of hits on the body, but much as with Searfang earlier, the blasts have little effect on Gleeok's massive armored body - possibly even LESS effect than the rock-skinned lava-lizard, due to this monster's greater inherent resistance to unfriendly supernatural energies.

After your little display of Dead Man's Volley, the Gleeok has refrained from spitting any more fireballs your way. By this time, it's certainly got another full tank of flaming gas built up, ready and waiting for a good opening to be unleashed.

On the positive side, you seem to have done enough damage to Left to silence him, whether due to actual injury or just because he's keeping his mouth shut. It's not exactly the sort of tactical advantage it would be against an enemy that needed to speak to use magic, for example, but you WERE starting to worry about Left blabbing something about your connection to Ganondorf for your entire audience to hear.

...assuming they could understand him at all, that is. You know some of your guests were using translation spells, but you don't know if those granted fluency in Draconic. Probably best to assume that they do, though, and prepare accordingly.

...so, yay?

Shaking your invisible head - and wondering in passing if the spectators are being helped to see you - you focus your attention on the battle. You have a few options: one, hit the Gleeok with another Power Ball to stun him, and then follow up with another projectile; two, get closer and try to make him choke on more Sword Beams; three, close the distance entirely and make like a lumberjack; or four, change the rules and get sorcerous.

You gave Power Ball a go, and it didn't really work out.

You also don't care for the idea of flying into melee range and just hacking away at the Gleeok's neck until it gives.

That leaves your standard fallback of magic.

You keep up your Sword Beam bombardment to give the dragon's heads something to focus on, and to make them less inclined to suspect that you might be casting magic. With that distraction in place, you start layering spells on your Blessed Blade.

First, a straightforward Greater Spell of the Magic Weapon, to enhance the accuracy and striking power of your sword. Since you don't need this magic to last the rest of the day, you have no issue cutting down the duration a couple of steps.

Next, the Spell of Keen Edges, to further hone the cutting power of your blade. Once again, you trim the duration a bit, if not as extensively as your first spell.

Third is a bit of witchcraft, the Spell to Splinter Spell Resistance, to reduce the Gleeok's inherent defense against non-physical threats.

Lastly, another spell drawn from Ganondorf's repertoire, the Spell of the Unerring Weapon. Here, you add mana, increasing the otherwise limited duration of this particular magic to something more in line with the other spells you just cast.

As you cast those spells, you also ready a fresh set of Staggered Flickers, slipping the ki manipulation in between the steady launch of the Sword Beams. You could have fired off these attacks a bit faster, but the pace you've chosen left enough of a pause between the attacks for your ki to cycle twice and another technique to be used in the interim, without introducing an obvious pause to your long distance blasts.

Gained Staggered Flicker E+

With your Blessed Blade ready, you cast one more spell to directly increase your own abilities, calling upon the Goddesses for their blessing as you invoke the Spell of Divine Power. Again, you devote extra mana to the spell, so that it will last about as long as the rest of these enhancements.

From the front of your robe, you hear Briar mutter, "Why is it getting hot in here all of a sudden...?"

Preparations completed, you charge a final Sword Beam and dive towards the Gleeok's left head. As you race for your target, you gather your mana for one last spell; your ki cycles well before that is done, allowing you to ready a Strike Flicker for even MORE power.

When you go for the Gleeok's wounded throat, several things happen in quick succession.

First, warned either by the sudden cessation of ki bolts from above or by its keen senses, the dragon's left neck bends down low in an attempt to cover its injured portion.

Simultaneous with that, the right head turns towards its partner and inhales deeply, a red glow already present at the back of its throat.

The next thing that happens is your Blessed Blade striking home in spite of the dragon's attempt to shield itself. Where your prior strike sort of glanced off of and slid along the thick, leathery skin and powerful muscle beneath instead of really penetrating, this one cuts much deeper - deeper, in fact, than you were entirely prepared for. Flesh and blood part before your strike with about as much resistance as you'd expect from a thick roast, and an instant later, there is a painful jarring sensation as your sword hits bone, deflects slightly, and then keeps going, on course to tear out through the back of the Gleeok's neck.

Gained Mighty Blow D
Gained Strength B++

You haven't managed to lop the monster's left head off with a single blow, but you have carved a gaping rent almost halfway across and through its neck, which is already gushing dark blood like an unholy geyser.

For any remotely normal creature, this would be a mortal wound.

For one of Hyrule's major monsters, particularly THIS one, it's more of a mutual inconvenience. Even as you complete the motion of your swing, you can see veins of red and black energy beginning to appear around and spread out from the Gleeok's wound, corrupting and corroding the flesh like a hundred years of decay compressed into just a few seconds.

However, there is no time to take in the spectacle. You were going to accompany this attack with a use of your Spellstrike technique, but when you saw the right head breathing in, the chance to use a badly underdeveloped and overly expensive technique suddenly seemed unequal to the prospect of taking another hit from the Gleeok's flames.

That, and the sight of all that blood pouring out of the wound, onto your sword, your robes... your hands...

Gained Blooded E+
Gained Traumatic Memories D++

It's not JUST the imminent blast of dragonfire that has you considering taking evasive action in the middle of your strike.

Spell of Protection or no, the sight of the fiery glow building in Right's mouth awakens a deep, instinctual desire to be Anywhere But Here, before the great burny pain and doom falls upon your current location.

So you trigger one of your waiting Staggered Flickers.

Given the size of the Gleeok's prior fire-blasts and the range limits of this movement technique, you don't try to dodge sideways, to where the flame would be expanding outwards, and certainly not BACKWARDS, where it would go on for a good fifty feet. Instead, in what some might see as a counter-intuitive maneuver, you push forward, trying to get past the roughly cone-shaped arc of space that is about to be filled with dragonfire.

And since you're going to be that much closer to the right head anyway, you figure, why not go for broke?

You emerge from your Flicker-

-in an awkward tumble, as the heightened velocity interacts inconveniently with the lift provided by your Spell of Flight. Luckily for you, your current mastery of the Staggered Flicker technique limits you to some of the slowest movement possible by Body Flicker standards, so the loss of control isn't catastrophic.

Rather than ending up standing on top of the Gleeok's right head, as you'd intended, you're instead floating a couple of feet in the air above it, slowly wheeling head over heels almost like an astronaut in zero gravity.

The dragon's eyes bulge as they stare up at you. Though he obviously cannot speak while in the middle of breathing fire over where you'd just been, Right's unvoiced, "What the-!?" is so obviously written all over his scaly face that it rings in your ears just the same.

Adjusting your grip on your Blessed Blade, you aim the tip of the weapon straight down, willing your Spell of Flight to stabilize you. The mana you'd previously gathered for another spell is still there, waiting, and you shape it accordingly, pushing it into and through your sword as you strike down at the Gleeok's right head.

Gained Spellstrike F++

Minus the momentum of your aerial charge, directed against steel-strong scales rather than thick leathery hide, and with Right given just enough warning by your sudden reappearance in his line of sight to try and avoid the blow, this attack isn't so devastating as the one you just landed on Left.

You still cut a bloody gash across the top of the dragon's remaining attached head, carving scales by the dozen and scraping across the skull beneath.

The Spell of the Touch of Bloodletting you attempted to perform via your unpracticed Spellstrike technique seems to have been cast successfully. It is fortunate that you weren't attempting to cast a particularly powerful spell, and also that you've cultivated such outstanding efficiency when wielding magic; without at least one of those factors, the ruinous rate of inflation imposed by Spellstriking might have doomed the attempt entirely.

As it is, you feel the magic take form, move through your Hylian steel-

-and then you enter an evasive roll as the Gleeok's severed left head flies towards you, jaws gaping wide in anticipation of a savage bite.

You take a moment to consider the world spinning around you. The right head's breath weapon has once again laid waste to a swathe of the ground, and while it washed over a good part of the left side of the dragon's body in the process, the thick hide and green scales are unmarked. Of the neck that you just hacked partway through, nothing now remains except a bit of demonic dust crumbling away into nothing, and a shiny patch of dragonhide, which is sprouting new scales with unnatural speed. Freed of its earthly bonds, the left head maneuvers to pursue you with an easy grace more akin to your Spell of Flight than the ponderous flight of the rest of the dragon's body; despite that, however, you still have an edge in speed and mid-air agility, if somewhat less of the former and considerably less so of the latter than just a minute ago.

"Get him, Brother!" Right growls furiously, as he lunges towards you, adding his own fangs to the assault.

The sound as they snap shut behind you is chilling, even with the three or four feet of space your swift maneuvers keep between you. You redirect, bringing your Blessed Blade up for another swing at the right head, who you note is bleeding rather profusely from that wound-

-but are forced to duck as the left head spits one of those contained fireballs at your head, the range too close and the angle too awkward for you to repeat your earlier attempt at volleying the attack back to its source, or even to interpose your shield.

The bulk of the attack misses, hissing and crackling angrily as it flies past, but you feel your defensive spell weaken slightly as the outer edge of the burning hot orb brushes against it. You've still got a bit over three-quarters of the spell's original strength left, which should be plenty to finish this Trial, as long as you don't get careless.

Speaking of finishing the Trial, at this point, you could probably back off and let the Spell of the Touch of Bloodletting do its work. It will take about a minute for the spell to run its course, and while the excessive blood loss it induces might not be enough to kill the already-weakened Gleeok by itself, it will at least make the monster that much weaker and easier to finish off in the aftermath.

...unless this is the type of Gleeok that can reattach its heads, like Briar mentioned. The way the stump of its neck self-cauterized and healed over suggest that could be a possibility; if so, you're probably going to want to "dogfight" with the flying head to keep it away from its body, until the latter either succumbs to your blood-sucking magic or the Spell of Necromancy has run its course.

Alternately, you could continue to press your attack against the main body. One good, solid hit to its remaining neck with your heavily-buffed Blessed Blade may be enough to take the dragon's second head, at which point at least PART of the thing ought to properly die.

You spend the next few seconds keeping as much of a safe distance from Gleeok's body and floating head as you. The two heads do their best to prevent this, showing an impressive level of coordination despite their lack of any physical connection or use of words, but your speed advantage is enough to leave Right and the rest of the body gasping in the dust, while whatever magical method Left is using to stay airborne strains to keep up with you.

With your opponents' efforts bent on a fruitless pursuit, you have time and attention to spare to cast the Spell of Prestidigitation and wipe the dragon's blood from your weapon, your clothes, and your person. Although you're not certain if this application of the minor magic is thorough enough to stop you from being tracked by scent, it should at least lessen whatever trail you leave in that regard; more importantly, it gets rid of the visible bloodstains.

Once that's done, you fly off to your right a short distance and then stop, waiting to see how the Gleeok reacts.

Left reaches the general area where you were when you scrubbed the blood from your person and begins to drift back and forth, turning slowly and scenting the air.

From some distance behind, Right calls out, "Don't tell me you lost him!"

Left whirls about to glare at his brother, but says nothing. You wonder if the severed head even CAN speak like this, with no attachment to his lungs and whatever dragons have in the way of a voicebox, or if the damage caused by the Sword Beam you shot down his throat earlier is interfering.

Because really, if this monster's head can not only remain functional after being physically severed from the rest of its body, but also start flying around with no limbs, then retaining the power of speech in the bargain would really be a minor thing.

Regardless, while the Gleeok's two heads trade accusations and dirty looks, you start casting another spell.

No longer able to see or smell you, at too great a distance to hear your hushed chant or feel you moving your mana, and distracted by his counterpart on top of that, Left is taken entirely by surprise by the Resilient Sphere you cast around him. The dragon's innate spell resistance struggles to withstand the effect, but falters, leaving Left to drift face-first into the inner surface of the shimmering force-globe.

The Gleeok responds to having one of its heads trapped by said head spitting a fireball at the Sphere from the inside, while the free head unleashes a gout of fire. That is actually not a bad move on the dragon's part; its heads are somewhat bigger than your body, so containing Left required one of the larger Spheres you're capable of conjuring, and its greater surface area makes it somewhat more susceptible to wide-area attacks.

It's still a globe of pure force, of course, so for all the destructive fury Gleeok's cone of ravening fire dishes out, it doesn't come close to breaching the Sphere with that first round of attacks.

And you're not going to give him time to try again.

Charging another Sword Beam - the last having discharged somewhere in the middle of slicing through most of Gleeok's left neck - you call on your Spell of Flight once again, and charge at the monster's remaining neck, sword at the ready.

"HA!" Right barks in triumph, as he has the entire body suddenly roll sideways, claws and spines tearing up the turf as the huge, scaly mass turns a quarter-circle around the Resilient Sphere. "I knew you'd try-"

While it costs you some momentum, you are still able to correct your course, close the distance, and strike!

Warned by the results of your previous attack, you don't try to sever the dragon's neck entirely, instead just cutting a deep gash across its throat, from right to left. You also make a point of letting your blade trail somewhat behind the rest of you, so that you aren't directly in the path of the ensuing fountain of blood.

That last bit might have worked better if you hadn't cast a spell meant to ENHANCE blood-loss on your enemy just a short while ago.

"-thaaack," Right gurgles, as he staggers back from the blow.

You hover to a safe distance, willing the still-active Spell of Prestidigitation to clean you off for a second time as you do so, and watch as the Gleeok thrashes wildly, making horrible wet gasps of desperate fury as it struggles to remain standing, conscious, breathing.

In the end, the combination of the ragged mess you made of its throat and the Touch of Bloodletting proves too severe. With a final groan, the monster collapses to the blood-soaked earth, a cloud of dust exploding out from underneath it.

For a moment, all is still.

Then you notice patches of darkness forming on the Gleeok's body - not just on its neck, which you were prepared to see undergo the same explosive decay and dissolution as its partner, but across the entire huge form.

"Not that kind of Gleeok, then," Briar muses with clear relief.

On the ground, Right's eyes roll in your direction, squinting as if to peer through your invisibility.

So, you just fought a dragon.

You just BEAT a dragon.

And not a human that's considered a dragon-in-spirit or something like Altria, some diminutive hatchling or sub-breed, or even a giant reptilian beast like Searfang that a layman would consider a dragon, but one of the legitimate monsters among monsters.

This is an important moment for you.

Dragons are creatures of significant mystical power and potential.

Either of those factors would make this a good time to try and grab some reagents. Together?

The blood you just wiped off of your sword with your Spell of Prestidigitation is still hovering in mid-air next to you, waiting to be dropped or willed "away"; you hold it there, reaching into your pocket for your Hylian Glass Bottle...

...which has Gold Sand in it.

Right, you forgot about that. So what...

Okay, that will work.

Putting the jar of shiny dirt back, you take out one of the clay bottles filled with Gen's Spring Dew, crack the seal, and chug the contents.

*GLUG*
*GLUG*
*GLUG*

Consumed Spring Dew
Gained Empty Clay Bottle

Having drained the potion, you ask Briar to give the interior of the jar a quick swipe with her own Spell of Prestidigitation, to minimize the chances of contamination. Once that's done, you bottle the blood and tuck it back in your pocket.

Gained Gleeok Blood

Having been drawn from a creature that was conjured, summoned, or otherwise not precisely "real," the blood may end up dissipating the next time you take it out. If so, fair enough. But if it doesn't... well, you'll save that thought for later. And possibly for your workshop-corner in the basement.

In anticipation of your upcoming final Trial, you take out a second Spring Dew, and ask Briar to spend one of her two high-powered healing effects to fill up your ki.

*GLUG*
*GLUG*
*GLUG*

Consumed another Spring Dew
Gained Empty Clay Bottle

And then, your attention turns to the dying dragon. You want to say something to the Gleeok, as a token of respect for the fight - however, you're still invisible. Speaking of martial honor while walking around magically concealed from sight would send the wrong message, and you know it - and so it is that you will your Spell of Invisibility to end early, fading back into view before the Gleeok's right head.

And also off to one side, out of its line of fire in case it tries to breathe at you one last time.

You're being polite, not stupid.

"Good fight, guys," you say, looking from the fallen dragon to its severed-and-trapped floating head, nodding at each in turn. "If you ever want to do it again, just give me a shout."

Gained Draconic E+

By now covered in that spreading darkness, the Gleeok's heads stare at you.

"Hey," Right wheezes, "you look kinda familiar... have we met before?"

Left manages to scrounge up enough air to sigh at his brother one last time.

Then the Two-Headed Dragon of the Underworld explodes.

Once the Gleeok is gone, you pull out the largest of your remaining Mana Gems and shatter it. You close your eyes, gathering your strength and resolve as mana surges through you and the world spins around you for the last time, the Ninth and Final Trial of the day taking shape.

Lost 1 Mana Gem

You are as prepared to face this challenge as you can reasonably expect to be. But for a small amount of spiritual energy, your reserves are at full capacity, you have been heavily buffed by magical means, and your Ki Enhancement is up and running at full power. Your sword is in hand, your shield - with a quick word - is active, and your partner is at your side.

"Are you ready for this, Alex?" Briar asks.

You consider the question, and then nod. "I am."

With that, you open your eyes.

...

Um, what?

You're in another chamber of the same architectural style as the ones where you fought Jermafencer and the Carock. It's not as massive - the ceiling is not so far overhead, all four walls are markedly closer together, and the double-rows of pillars are absent - but the patterns carved into the stone are the same, and there's still a lot of bunting hanging from the ceiling for whatever reason.

You stand at one end of the chamber, and opposite from you is an elevated stage atop four tall pillars, higher than you could normally jump. Standing on top of that platform is the source of your confusion: a single little old man.

Diminished and stooped with age, he's barely taller than you are, and looks like you could pick him up and carry him around unenhanced. You might need to use both hands, but still. The skin of his face and hands is as thin as paper and seems to be about eighty percent wrinkles by mass, at least what you can see of it behind the huge, bushy white beard that hangs clear to the floor, every inch combed and curled and fairly gleaming. Visible around the edges of that mass of well-kept hair are the sleeves and hem of a red robe; clutched in two bony, clawlike hands is a heavy-headed staff taller than its owner; and rising from the beard like a ship from the spray of the sea are a bulbous nose, two dark creases that should be eyes, and an utterly hairless pate, framed by two tall, pointed, obviously Hylian ears.

The ancient Hylian is surrounded by the same sort of glow as your priestly tutors and other celestial Hyruleans you've summoned, and the magical and spiritual aspects of his aura are frankly massive.

Slowly, one of those folds on the front of the ancient's face widens, revealing a squinting eye of a surprisingly clear bright green, which looks you over slowly.

"Hmmm," the old man mumbles, in a firm, steady baritone that probably boomed like Thunderbird when he was young. "So you're the one that all the fuss is about."

Is there something you'd like to say to, or ask of, this diminutive elder, aside from politely introducing yourself?

Fighting down a sudden and not terribly appropriate impulse to indulge in a moment of laughter, you give the dying dragon's question an honest answer.

The right head sighs, and as the last of his scales darken from green to red-laced black, he coughs out, "I hate it when that happens. It's going to bug me all week..."

Up inside your Resilient Sphere, the similarly blackening left head shakes back and forth, eyes closed in dismay.

"Sorry about that," you apologize.

Gained Draconic E++

Then both heads and the rest of the massive body disappear in an explosion of dark smoke, leaving nothing behind.

You straighten up, shield and sword held at polite rest, and bow to the old man who is most likely a Sage of Hyrule.

"Alex Harris of Sunnydale, sir," you say formally. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

A somewhat worrisome pleasure, if you're being completely frank. Quite aside from the reflexive respect Lu-sensei has instilled in you for little wrinkly old men armed with sticks, if there's anybody from Hyrule other than Link or Zelda who ought to be able to trigger the Curse of Demise just by being in the same room as you, it's a Sage - and yet you aren't feeling so much as a twitch from the darker corners of your soul. You have to conclude that something about meeting the old man under these circumstances is preventing the ancient Demon King's dying curse from being triggered.

Either that, or this Sage is not descended from any Link or Zelda who have ever lived in the entire history of the kingdom.

"I am Elfaron," the old man replies. "And likewise."

He pronounces it 'El-far-on' rather than 'Elf-aron'; either way, it sounds enough like a Hylian name to make a non-Hylian lineage unlikely.

"Yeeeep," Briar squeaks.

You look down. "Do you recognize him, Briar?"

"Oh, boy, do I," your partner says nervously, as she pulls herself out of your robe and takes up a more formal position, hovering in the air above and to the side of your left shoulder. "This is the Sage of Shadow, the Seneschal of the Grand Palace, and the Guardian of the Triforce of Courage."

...

Um, what?

"He's the guy that tested the latest Hero to make sure he was worthy of holding the complete Triforce," Briar sums up.

...well, then. Not just a Sage, but a Sage that the ancient King of Hyrule trusted to watch over one-third of a divine wish-granting relic for who knows how many centuries, without succumbing to temptation to use it, even for the noblest of reasons. And there would have been some SERIOUS temptation.

You're hardly an expert on the history of Hyrule, but from what you've gleaned through conversation with Briar and your tutors, reading the Holy Books, and even your memories of being Ganondorf, the period of time between the fall of the Triforce-wielding monarchy up to the emergence of the latest and current Link was basically Hyrule's own Dark Age.

To make a long story short, take everything that actually happened during Europe's "Dark Age," include most of the stuff that the average person only THINKS really happened, and sprinkle monsters on top of it.

And this Sage evidently lived through it all, and held true to his duty.

That's...

Inspiring.

Some part of you is uneasy with the idea that a person possessing the sort of power a Sage is supposed to command, and that THIS Sage clearly does have, could just stand aside and do nothing while the society he was a part of went through so much suffering.

Consciously, however, you acknowledge that you don't know the full story of how Elfaron came to be the Guardian of the Triforce of Courage, or why he chose to spend all those long years not interfering. It can't be because he was ignorant or uncaring of what was going on; no one who becomes a Sage is ignorant, and while the Sages of Shadow are less demonstrative of their emotions than others, that doesn't mean they feel things any less strongly.

Plus, there's your own circumstances to consider. You have the ability to go out and wreak holy havoc on the demonic denizens of Sunnydale, but you don't, because as things stand, you'd be unlikely to survive the response, or keep your family and friends safe through it. Elfaron may have been in a similar situation.

...in point of fact, with Ganondorf's shade active under the selfsame King Link who assigned Elfaron to guard the Triforce of Courage, and already plotting his return to life and reclamation of Power, the Sage was actively making himself an obstacle for the King of Evil.

Historically, that tends not to end well for the obstacles.

As a result of this, most of what you take from the old man's example is inspiration. He accepted a great responsibility, one that came with great risks and costs both for himself and for the kingdom he served, and yet he saw his duty through to a successful end.

And he did it without using the third of the Triforce that he was sworn to protect.

You very much want to believe that you can achieve something similar.

"Yes, well, you didn't come all this way just to hear about what I've done," Elfaron says, clearing his throat. "Eight trials you have faced, testing body, mind, and spirit. Eight trials you have overcome, using the same. One test, for each of the Great Elements; one test, for each year of your life lived; and one test that yet remains. Alexander Harris. Briar. Are you prepared to face the Final Trial?"

"I am, sir," you reply, while bracing yourself for the Enlightenment you are half-certain is about to ensue.

"That's why we're here," Briar agrees.

"Then bring forth the Mirror."

...

"...I'm sorry, what?" you ask.

"The Mirror," Elfaron repeats. One bushy eyebrow - which constitutes fully half of all the hair on his head that isn't part of that massive beard - quirks up. "I was given to understand that you recovered the Mirror of Shadows, yes?"

"Well, yes-"

"And you used it to help a woman suffering from grief and madness come to terms with her loss?"

You hope Lady Takara wasn't too upset by that mention of her personal issues. "Again, yes, but-"

"And you have it with you now, correct?"

Seeing as how simple affirmations haven't worked to derail the old man's discourse, you try a different approach. "Are you saying you want to use the Mirror of Shadows on me, sir?"

"I am."

Immediately, you think of the reasons why you've avoided pursuing that very course of action yourself, ever since the artifact in question was investigated and confirmed Curse-free by Navi and the Goddesses. The Mirror of Shadows is meant to bring forth those parts of a person's psyche that they normally suppress and avoid, to encourage self-awareness and self-acceptance. The trouble is, the parts of your being that you suppress and avoid involve Ganondorf, and said suppression is less in the nature of ignorance than it is sheer self-defense.

He... is aware of that, right?

And whether he is or not, do you really want to bring up stuff like that in front of your entire audience?

You look the old man in the eye and ask, "Just to be clear, Sage Elfaron, you ARE aware of the possible consequences of that, right?"

"I am," the Sage replies with a slow nod. "Appropriate precautions have already been taken. Here and now," he intones, waving the head of his staff around at the Trial chamber, "we are in the hands of the Goddesses. There will never be a safer opportunity to attempt this."

...

Okay.

You take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then reach into your pocket and take out the Mirror of Shadows. You hold the relic in front of you for a moment, before handing it over to Elfaron.

Resting his staff against one shoulder, the Sage takes the Mirror with both hands and bows his head, facing the dark glass but not looking into it. You feel the Shadow Magic surrounding the old man and bound up in the Mirror move as the face of the item begins to shine faintly, and have to restrain yourself from leaning forward a bit to try and see what's playing across the surface of the relic.

The pale light fades a moment later, and Elfaron nods to himself. "Good, good. All is well with the Mirror. Let us proceed, then."

The Sage shifts his grip, turning the Mirror of Shadows to face you, and commands, "Shadow, reflect!"

The Mirror shines brightly as tendrils of dark power erupt from within it, reaching out for you.

Allowing the magic to grab hold of you, and not raising your own power to resist what follows, is one of the more difficult things you think you've ever done, but you do it.

When the grasping shadows withdraw into the now steadily shining Mirror, you see your color-shifted reflection within the glass, moving of its - or his - own accord for a moment, before Elfaron turns the Mirror around to inspect the image.

He nods, shifts the glass to face off to one side, and commands, "Shadow, show! Let the Final Trial commence"

And following another multi-headed plume of coiling shadow-stuff - during which the entire chamber seems cast into darkness, and the Sage of Shadow seems to disappear into the ether, taking the Mirror with him - there are once again two of you sharing a room.

Your reflection is color-shifted in a manner similar to Dark Link, with corpse-pale skin peeking out from the edges of a mostly-black Warmage's Robe, lined in characters of dull gold and blood red. Unlike your own garment, his robes come with a hood, which he's wearing up, casting much of his face into shadow. The concealment isn't nearly as total as it was for the Carock, allowing you glimpses of pallid flesh and puffy, deep-sunken eyes that glitter with the gold light of Power. He has a gold-hilted sword in his right hand, a vambrace on his left, and the air around him hums with active spells.

And yes, he has a fairy partner as well. This time around, instead of her typical rosy hue or the dull red of "Evil Briar," Briar's opposite number glows a dark green.

"At least this one isn't singing and dancing," Briar mutters.

FACING THE MIRROR: SHADOW ALEX AND SHADOW BRIAR

You and your latest doppelganger stare at each other in silence for a long moment. Then, at some unseen signal, you snap into a guard stance, shield flickering to life and sword coming up, ready to defend or strike out.

Shadow Alex's response perfectly matches yours - or, is it yours that matches his?

Although it's been months, you haven't forgotten what Navi told you about the origins of the Mirror of Shadows, and the purpose for which it and the magic within it were created. The idea wasn't to create relentless killing machines, only to give people the chance to face, acknowledge, and hopefully accept those parts of themselves that they didn't like, intentionally suppressed, and/or were not consciously aware of.

From a certain point of view, fighting your Shadow constitutes failure. For that reason - and because you don't want your family and friends to have to watch you beating yourself up in a most literal sense, any more than you did while fighting Evil Alex - you decide to try talking this one out.

"Mind if we chat over this spar?" you offer.

Shadow Alex replies with a familiar, confident smirk, and a surge of mana, ki, and POWER-!

Huh. Is THAT what it looks like from the outside?

Gained Knowledge of Power E+++

Fortunately for you, you were watching and waiting for signs of escalation from your dark doppelganger. At the first hint from him of two energies combining into a third, you begin the same process. The brief head-start Shadow Alex has still leaves you a bit on the back foot, unable to dodge his follow-up charge, much less act in time to prevent it - but when his Power-wreathed sword lashes out at you, your own Blessed Blade is there to meet it, backed by the golden flames of your own Power.

Gained Maximum Power C++

As your shining swords cross, the rest of the world momentarily vanishes in a flare of golden light and a ROAR of sound.

And in that moment, you.

See.

THINGS.

You see yourself rejecting school as a waste of time and effort, a distraction from your training, your magical experiments, your money-making ventures, and your efforts on behalf of the Goddesses - and against the Curse. A Twine Double attends classes in your place to prevent public attention, Pagebound Epiphany and Scholar's Touch let you absorb the useful lessons - and then go beyond them - in a fraction of the time, and Enchantment and Illusion Magic allow you to get on with the important work undisturbed.

You see yourself refusing to cower in fear of the vampires and other predators that stalk the nights. You walk the streets of Sunnydale, wisely - but not fearfully - shrouded in magic to avoid notice, hunting the hunters and plundering their lairs for ill-gotten gains you can put to better use. Vampire dust and demon-gore stain your blade and your robes, but magic makes their removal a trivial matter.

You see your family no longer living on the Hellmouth, but in a house layered with protective wards and other useful spells. Its location is... oddly fluid. One moment, it's in the sort of small town that Sunnydale appears to be on the surface, a kind of Anywhere, U.S.A.; the next, it's clearly a city suburb, perhaps in L.A.; then it's the equivalent of a Magnificent Mansion on a demiplane; and finally, it's a cabin on a tropical island.

You see your business arrangements changing. Gen is no longer your partner, but your employee, acquiring a variety of mundane goods that you ship to Hyrule as rare exotics, the Church and the Crown finally having quit their dithering and made the trade-deals you desire. Magical components, Rupees, and gold flow back in exchange, funding and fueling your projects, with never so much as a copper cent stolen from you by undeserving governments.

You see those who have threatened you and yours brought low, as they deserve. The Hawaiian Sorcerer, the evil ninja boss Raidou, and Mayor Wilkins all fall; the childish bullies and obstructive elders who've made Ayane's life difficult are put in their places; Hollows are cut down and ghostly samurai smacked over the heads for all the trouble they've caused (or failed to prevent) in Karakura; and others, mere shadowy figures of menace, are driven back from your friends and family.

You see yourself free to speak and act as you will, no longer restrained by notions of what is appropriate, healthy, or safe for a child. Parents and other authorities stop getting in your way, and friends stop holding you back; one and all, they learn to accept you for who and what you are, instead of who and what they want to see, or the mask you wear.

You see the Raging Boar, blinking in confusion as he confronts another Raging Boar, who looks just as surprised to see himself.

There is more than this, but the vision is intense, confusing, and above all, short. Much is jumbled and nonsensical, minor points drowned out by the major ones.

And then the Power-induced vision is over.

When the golden light clears, you find yourself locked in a very dramatic pose with Shadow Alex, your left arm raised to guard and your right held forth for the parry - but your hand is empty, your Force-Shield deactivated, and your array of spells, ki techniques, and Power itself unexpectedly snuffed out.

Shadow Alex is in the same condition, and the look on his face as he stares at his empty sword-hand says louder than words that he's every bit as startled by this development as you are.

Did... did the clash of Power against Power cause this? It must have, but was that because Power versus Power cancels out, or was it a consequence of one or more of the spells you had up and running, and how they interacted? Or, for that matter, was it because of these unique circumstances, you facing a version of yourself with all the exact same abilities?

"I don't know about you three," you say to the room at large, while keeping your attention on Shadow Alex in case he takes your decision to talk again as another opening. "But I think the sudden, mutual collapse of our Maximum Power may have been a sign that the Goddesses would like for us to talk out our differences, the way the rituals involving the Mirror are supposed to go, instead of punching each other out."

"Oh, please," Shadow Alex scoffs. "You just know you can't beat me in a fair fight."

"So you can talk?" you inquire.

"Of course I can talk," he retorts. "Why would you think- oh, wait."

"Dark Link," the two of you say in unison.

Shadow Alex shakes his head. "Yeah, pointer there? If the Shadow doesn't talk much, it's because the original doesn't talk much. At least, not at the time the Shadow was created; he might have changed since then."

"You mean you don't know?"

"Just because I do more business with Hyrule than you doesn't mean I'm being STUPID about it," Shadow Alex says flatly.

At that, you nod slowly. "I have to admit, most of what I saw, I kind of liked."

Shadow Alex smirks. "Naturally."

"That said," you press on, "was I misunderstanding things, or did I see you ignoring your friends?"

And now he's scowling again. "Did you miss the part where I moved out of Sunnydale?"

"We can teleport."

"We also have better things to do with our time than spend eight hours a day, five days a week sitting in a box, getting useless information shoved into our heads by a bunch of Hellmouth-addled drones!"

"It's not ALL useless," you point out.

"What we actually need out of school, we can learn on our own, in a fraction of the time and for zero percent of the cost," your shadow-self says bluntly.

That might be true for the academic side of things, although having compared your efforts at self-study in magic and spiritualism to your progress with actual tutors, you have your doubts. But school isn't just about academia, is it?

"And what about our friends?"

"It's not like I NEVER see them," he defends. "I still go to Lu-sensei's classes, I teach Amy, I invite them to my birthday, I show up for theirs when I'm invited-"

"How often do you get those invitations?" you ask, suspecting you already know the answer. "Do you visit after school, or on weekends? Not for training or lessons or anything, but just to hang out?"

"...I'm busy, alright?"

Yeah, that's what you figured.

From what you saw and what you've heard, Shadow Alex is a manifestation of that part of you that's driven to pursue and achieve your goals in the most efficient manner; the part that desires personal power, material resources, and security for yourself and your family; and the part that will do what is required, make whatever sacrifices are necessary (but not stupid) to get what it wants.

He's not evil. More... pragmatic. Goal- and use-oriented.

Friends have their uses, but thinking about them as resources to be cultivated, tools to be used... can you call that friendship?

Does he?

And if he treats his friends like that, what is his relationship with his family like? You already know that Shadow Alex is (or would be) deceiving his parents about his attendance at school. You saw him using Spells of Enchantment and Illusion to make it look like he was going to class, when in actuality, he was staying home, shut up in his workshop, or else roaming the world on business.

You aren't comfortable with that. Yes, you've kept secrets from your parents, and yes, you still ARE keeping the big secret of Ganondorf from them, but you've never used your magic to actively lie to them, not even by the indirect method of Illusion Magic.

There's been a distinct lack of commentary from either of the two fairies in the chamber during your conversation with Shadow Alex.

After your association with Briar - and more recently, meeting the swarm of her siblings currently on Bali Ha'i - you can't help but find this silence suspicious. When you notice that your counterpart has been put emotionally off-balance by your inquiries about the state of his social life, you figure this is a reasonable opportunity to check on Briar and her not-evil twin, without having to worry about getting sucker-punched by your shadow-self.

Not that you lower your guard or take any more of your attention off of him than you absolutely need to.

You're not any stupider than he is.

Your partner is nowhere that you can immediately see, even out of the corner of your eye, but a quick check of the familiar bond is all it takes to confirm that she is... easily a dozen feet off to your right, and almost as high off the ground? How the heck did she get all the way o-ohhhh.

It seems that the fairies either fled to a safe distance to avoid your Maximum Power Outage, or else were physically blown away when you and Shadow Alex crossed supercharged auras. And when you take a chance and glance up to confirm, you find that either Shadow Briar was sent flying in the same direction as your partner, or the two of them intentionally linked up after the fact.

You weren't sure what you expected to see more in that moment: a mid-air kung fu battle; a magical duel writ small; a mutual griping session about the casual thoughtlessness of overpowered partners; or an emotionally-charged, deeply introspective psychological debate.

"Am not!" Briar denies.

"Are too!" Shadow Briar accuses.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

...

You can't help but turn back to Shadow Alex, who had followed your gaze to the childishly-arguing pair of fairies, and now meets your expression of embarrassment with a matching look of his own.

"Alex!" the Briars yell in unison, as they break off their exchange and suddenly fly towards the two of you.

"Tell her that shade of green is way too dark and broody for us!" your partner insists.

"Tell her that shade of pink is way too childish for us!" Shadow Briar demands at the same time.

"Who are you calling broody/childish!?" the pair of them snap, turning on each other.

Shadow Alex bows his hooded head and rubs his shadowed eyes, muttering something to the effect of, "All of the possible familiars in all the planes, and I just had to go with a fairy..."

True, there are times when you wonder what you were thinking...

Confronted with two argumentative females who hold opposing points of view and are demanding you act as the tie-breaker in their dispute, which will undoubtedly leave the one you disagree with mad at you, you opt to follow the example of older men all over the world, and take a third option.

"They're both pretty colors," you say neutrally.

The twin fairies break off their glaring match to regard you with disgust for your blatant avoidance of a straight answer.

Even Shadow Alex spares you a sympathetic wince.

Despite the apparent failure of the wisdom of your male peers and predecessors, you don't abandon their guidance just yet, instead pressing ahead with a change of topic.

"But I think this is less about colors and more about what they mean," you state, turning to face the conjured fairy. "Shadow Briar, did you decide to grow up?"

There is a beat, as everyone else still in the room STARES at you.

"Where in Hyrule and the Underworld did you get THAT idea from?" Shadow Briar asks in amazement.

"...that's a 'no,' then?"

"Hell yes, it's a 'no!' Look at this!" The dark green fairy flies closer to Briar and hovers at a level with her for a moment, illustrating that they are, if not of an exact size, then close enough so as to make no practical difference. "Do I LOOK any bigger to you?"

You keep your mouth firmly shut, knowing better than to suggest any such thing to a girl.

After another brief pause, Shadow Briar turns to her counterpart. "So, he isn't completely hopeless."

"I'd take credit for that," Briar says, "but the girls outside would get me after this is over."

It would seem that whatever the reason behind the change of color in Shadow Briar's aura, a change in her opinion about growing up is not part of it.

Leaving the back-and-forth among the fairies alone for the time being, you inquire after the source of your confusion about Briar's internal debate.

"If you haven't decided to grow up," you say, "then why does it matter if Briar's color is 'childish?'"

Shadow Briar sighs.

"It matters because there's a difference between being young and being a baby," she says, emphasizing the last word with distaste. "We don't want to grow up yet, because that means power and responsibilities we KNOW we're not ready for. Not to mention that it's not healthy to grow up too fast, which is something we've seen firsthand."

"I keep telling you, I'm fine," Shadow Alex mutters.

"Case in point," his partner says dryly. "But not the only one we've run into, and not the first, or even the worst. We saw it with the kids in Hyrule all the time, outside of the years when the monarchy had access to the complete Triforce. Fire, flood, famine, disease, war... there were all kinds of ways for kids to stop believing in fairies, to stop being kids in their heads and their hearts, long before their bodies caught up. It was never a good thing." Shadow Briar pauses then, and when she continues, it's in a very deliberate tone of voice. "And then there was Blossom."

"Oh, Farore." There is a faint jangling sound as Briar shudders in mid-air. "Did you have to bring her up?"

"Since you've been repressing the hell out of the subject, yeah, I kind of do."

You glance at Shadow Alex, but he seems as puzzled by the mention of that name as you are. "Another fairy, I assume?"

"The oldest of the kids living at the Fairy Fountain nearest to Mom's corner of the Lost Woods," Shadow Briar says promptly. "She was kind of a rival to Big Sis Summer when they were both little, always competing over who took the best care of their siblings. They even started growing up at about the same time, which was partly because they honestly wanted to be able to look after their families better, and partly so they could show off. And then," she adds sourly, "some of Blossom's siblings got eaten by Skulltulas."

Ouch.

"She didn't take it well?" Shadow Alex guesses in a soft, sympathetic tone.

"No, she did not," Shadow Briar answers. "She got obsessed with protecting what was left of her family, with getting stronger and killing or driving off active threats to their safety, and her relationship with Big Sis, who had the supreme bad taste not to lose any of HER brothers and sisters, just kept getting worse all the time. Then Robin got dragged into it, and... ugh." The darker fairy shakes her head. "Try to imagine Ganondorf, Zelda, and Link as fairies, only instead of spreading doom and gloom, Old Pig-Face wants to wrap everybody up in baby clothes, tuck them into their cradles, and keep them safe and happy and totally dependent on him forever, whether they want to be or not. Zelda's trying to talk him out of it, and Link keeps having to go in and bail her out."

...

"That is a terrible example," you and Shadow Alex say in unison.

"Yeah, not my best work," Shadow Briar admits with a shrug. "My point is, it's tragic enough when human kids grow up before their time; when fairies do that, being as magical as we are, Bad Things Can Happen."

There is a pause as the fairies allow you - both of you - to digest this new information.

Gained Faerie Lore D++

Then Shadow Briar waves in actual-Briar's direction. "And Little Miss Pinky over there-"

"Oi!"

"-has been using that as an excuse to goof off and take it easy ever since, instead of pulling her own weight. She did it with the family, she does it with the knuckleheads she calls her friends, she even does it with her PARTNER - and while that might work for a Kokiri or even a normal human kid, she knows DAMN well that crap won't fly when our partner is a walking trouble magnet-"

It's funny, how you don't even feel the impulse to protest that title anymore.

"-hell-bent on becoming a Sage or a King or something equally nuts before he even hits double digits!"

You're sensing that Shadow Briar may not only be irritated at her other self.

Just an idea.

"You asked me earlier, Alex, if I wanted Briar to grow up," the dark fairy says. "I don't, not in the sense that you meant it. What I want is for her to start acting her Goddesses-damned AGE."

Briar sputters, but tellingly, doesn't seem to be able to come up with a counter-argument.

...

What's your reaction to this?

"So rephrasing your metaphor a bit," you venture, "it was a bad idea for the... as you put it, 'friendly Ganondorf' to become obsessed with protecting her loved ones, focusing entirely on gathering power and killing threats to the extent of neglecting other aspects of her life. It made her relationships with others much worse, she became overly controlling and stifling, and nobody was happy with the situation at all."

You're looking at Shadow Alex as you say this, and are gratified to see him twitch and narrow his eyes at you.

"Yeah, basically," Shadow Briar replies.

She, you note, is ALSO facing her partner.

Shadow Alex accordingly twitches again.

You continue: "Wanting to do those things was entirely natural, and taking steps to gather power and protect her family was also a very good move. However, she took it too far without consideration for others. Everyone (including her) would've been happier if friendly Ganondorf listened to others, moderated her actions a bit more (while still fulfilling her need to protect the ones she loved), and spent some more time with her 'Zelda' having fun?"

By this point, Shadow Alex has given up on flinching and bowed his hooded head over a clenched, shaking fist. From your read on his aura and body language - which, you abruptly realize, Shadow Alex is either not as good at concealing as you yourself are, or just doesn't care to make the same effort when not in a direct confrontation - he's not at the point where he's about to unleash violence, but he is drifting that way.

You decide this would be a good place to leave off on the verbal prodding, before you convince your alter ego that he needs to start punching you again.

"Am I understanding the gist of the lesson this is intended to teach, Shadow Briar?" you ask the fairy, setting up for your knockout delivery.

She nods.

You promptly add, "Because it sounds like Briar's learned the lesson pretty well, honestly. She's even managed to teach it."

It's Shadow Briar's turn to twitch.

Shadow Alex, meanwhile, looks up from under his hood in surprise.

"I mean, I freely admit there have been times when Briar could have stood to be more serious-"

Negotiations with certain outsiders come to mind.

Briar's sheepish laugh puts you in mind of a cartoon character rubbing the back of her head, after she's been caught making a fool of herself in some way. She's likely thinking of the incident in question, or other, similar occasions, or at least picking up on the gist of your thoughts through the familiar bond.

The former would be better, but it's good either way.

"-and as long as I'm being bluntly honest and self-reflective and everything, I'll admit there have been other times when she should have made more of an effort to talk me out of chasing certain ideas, instead of just going along with them or making playful threats she never meant to follow through on-"

At this, Briar shoots you a look that makes your eyebrows tingle.

"-but on the whole," you state emphatically, "I think she's handled being partnered with a walking trouble-magnet bent on becoming a Sage or a King or something equally nuts before he even hits double-digits pretty well."

...

"...this had better not be leading up to some kind of joke about becoming a God-King," Briar warns you.

"The thought never crossed my mind," you lie.

"No, it stopped halfway and planted a flag."

Heh. Your partner knows you well.

...or maybe she's just looking at Shadow Alex's oddly unguarded reaction. He perked right up at her mention of divine tyranny, and shadowy hood or no, you can read enough of his expression to hear the gears ticking inside his mind as he considers the problem.

So can Shadow Briar, obviously, because she floats into his face and says, "No," like she's scolding a misbehaving puppy.

"But I could-"

"Still no."

"But it would be-"

"HELL no."

Shadow Alex glares at her for a moment and then looks away with a grunt and a mumbled, "I suppose I have enough work to be getting on with as it is..."

"That makes two of us," the twin fairies say in unison, before doing a double-take at each other.

Something in the atmosphere of the room has changed in the wake of this latest bit of dialogue. You can feel the heavy aura of shadow unleashed by the Mirror lightening slightly.

Shadow Alex isn't beaten yet, but the end of the Final Trial is nonetheless near.

With the matter of Briar's internal issues tabled for the time being, if not out-and-out settled, you turn your full attention back to your own shadowy doppelganger, and the personal qualities and potentials that he represents.

The weight of your regard pulls Shadow Alex out of his contemplation of the god-king issue, and prompts a scowl.

"Let me guess," he says. "This is where you tell me I'm wrong."

"Actually, I was going to say that I admire your dedication to the Path of Power," you admit.

He blinks, and the scowl fades slightly, though it doesn't vanish. "But...?" he prompts.

"But when I asked you about your friends, you said that you'd been 'busy,' which suggests that the WAY you've chosen to follow that Path could be self-defeating," you tell him. "As near as I can tell, there's two good reasons for wanting and having Power: so that you can do nice things for the people you care about; and so that you can do bad things to the bad guys. And while you're doing well on the latter part-"

Having sensed the thrust of your argument, Shadow Alex doesn't quite smirk at this, but the impulse is definitely there.

"-I'm concerned that taking your approach would risk cutting off the connections with the people I care about." You pause, considering how to phrase this in a way that will register with his goal-oriented nature. "Even leaving aside the value of those relationships in and of themselves, social power is still a form of Power. Does it really make sense to leave it undeveloped and unused, just because it won't let us throw fireballs or punch across space? What happens if we lose - or even never develop - a friendship, and the other person could have taught us something we hadn't considered about Wisdom or Courage? How much MORE good could we do in the world, with the help of people we can trust at our back AND on their own? And what if we wrap our loved ones up so tightly, we end up smothering their own potential for Power in the process? Is THAT really protecting them, or honoring Din? Is it really the best we can do?" You pause, and more quietly, add, "Is it really the best I can do?"

Shadow Alex had been about to reply to your barrage of questions, but the very last one seems to rob him of his voice for a moment. Instead of speaking, he lets out a breath, clenching his fists.

Then, in the same hushed tone you just used, he asked, "Do you really think we can do better, with the way you've been doing things?"

"I think," you say carefully, "that for all the sacrifices you want us to make, and all the good we could do with the power we'd gain from them, you're focused too much on what we can DO in the short term, rather than who we'll BE in the long run." You muster a smile. "We're not a wizard, remember? We're a sorcerer. Knowledge isn't the source of our magic, just a way to better apply what comes from the heart and the soul - and what good does any knowledge do us, if we have to cut out bits of our heart to learn it?"

Gained Oratory D

Shadow Alex nods-

-and in the next instant, you're blocking a punch. There's no magic in it, no ki technique to magnify the speed or power, yet you feel the weight of your counterpart's aura behind the blow all the same.

*Pow!*

Gained Hand-to-Hand (Five Elements Style) B+

"Then show me!" he demands fiercely. "You talk a great game against an equal opponent, so now prove to me that you can fight one, too!"

*Pow!*

"Show me the strength of those bonds!"

*Pow!*

"PROVE YOU CAN KEEP THEM SAFE!*

"Fine, then!" you snap back in Shadow Alex's face. "If that's the way you want to do this, then let me show you THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!"

What ensues is not the most dazzling display of raw martial ability you've ever taken part in. While you and your opponent are quick to resort to using your ki techniques - Shadow Alex going first, seeking the advantage, while your response is to power up just enough to match him - there's no time or space for either of you to invoke Maximum Power, much less cast even one of the bevy of self-enhancement spells that you had up when the Final Trial began.

Gained Ki Strike E+

You know yourself too well to allow that kind of opening; you have too many options under the hood, too many ways to turn an otherwise even slugging match into a contest of Who Can Bend Reality The Farthest?

Shadow Alex clearly doesn't want to deal with that sort of thing any more than you do; he keeps the pressure on, forcing you to use both hands on attack, defense, or both to keep up.

"Your words are cheap!"

You return the favor with interest.

"Then listen to my fists!"

Your not-so-evil twin does manage to pull off your version of the Drakes' mana-based self-enhancement technique-

"Would we have thought to use mana that way without meeting the Drakes?"

"I would have; you, I'm not so sure about!"

-and though the resulting boosts are slight compared to your existing ki-based empowerment, they're enough to break your little deadlock for a scant second or two. In the time it takes you to focus and ignite your own mana, you've taken a straight shot to the side, almost directly over the spot where a goblin skeleton once slashed you with a rusty sword.

Gained Mana Burst E+++

There's no way that wasn't deliberate.

Nor is it the only cheap shot or underhanded trick he tries to pull out. Shadow Alex's fighting style is full of little moves like that. One or two might pass as him seeing an opening, and taking it for all it's worth, but this many, against someone like yourself who can read him so naturally, make it clear as day that this is how your darker self prefers to fight.

Strike first. Strike hard. Strike to win. Seize every advantage, and give none to your opponent.

"'When you face a man on the street-'" you begin a quote.

"-he is the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy,'" Shadow Alex finishes it.

Then both your hands flicker - but not Flicker - for each other's face. They cross and clash, making it impossible for either of you to perform the obligatory follow-up nose-tweak and "Honk!"

Not that Shadow Alex is the sort who would cheat in a formal competition; there's a saying that comes to mind, about cutting off your nose to spite your face, and given your spiritual ties to the Gerudo and the faint physical resemblance besides, as well as the desert tribe's tendency towards... distinctive noses, that would be a lot of spite. But while your counterpart would obey the letter of the rules in any tournament he entered, he'd push them to their limit, seeking every "legal" advantage he could, regardless of how well they upheld the spirit of the rules.

And when fighting on the streets, in the shadows of the night, against the vampires, the demons, and the Forces of Darkness? There are no rules, no safety, no honor, and, truly, no mercy. There are only the quick, and the dead.

As the living embodiment of that part of you that wants to aggressively engage the supernatural evil that infests Sunnydale, and that favors expediency, results, and personal survival over any other factors, Shadow Alex fights to overwhelm you with speed, aggression, and dirty tricks.

Half his opening attacks are Overloaded Strike Flickers aimed at sensitive locations, and when those are thwarted by your use of Staggered Flickers-

"Another point for the value of strong friendships!" you declare.

"We learn techniques just by watching them!" comes the dismissive retort.

-he pulls out his own accelerated movement, Flickering into a Ki Blast that you narrowly dodge, leaving it to explode against the far wall. This is followed up with another burst of high-speed movement and a barrage of Ki Shots, which you deal with by closing the distance between you and shoving Shadow Alex's firing hand straight upwards, sending the projectiles flying wildly off-target and into the shadow-swathed ceiling.

On a side note, seeing your techniques from the outside is illuminating - or will be, when you have a chance to sit down and pick through the memories of this fight.

Right then and there, you're busy lifting a leg to deflect Shadow Alex's attempt to knee you in the groin.

"Dude!"

Shadow Alex actually looks chagrined at that. "Sorry," he apologizes. "Force of habit."

"...can demons even feel-"

Then he brings that foot down, swift and hard, trying to stomp the only toes you have on the floor just then.

You shift your raised leg to one side, redirecting the attack just far enough so that it comes down on cold stone rather than on your shoe.

It's been about thirty seconds since you and Shadow Alex started fighting, and in that time, you have taken more appreciable damage than you did in any of the previous Trials - more, perhaps, than in all of them put together. You've gotten just as many hits in on Shadow Alex as he has on you, but where he's been fighting to win, you've only been trying to subdue him, so you doubt he's feeling those blows quite as much. On the flip side, he's used up considerably more ki than you have, to little if any effect.

If you keep the pressure on, and make sure Shadow Briar stays out of this little contest, you could feasibly exhaust Shadow Alex's ki. While he'll still have his suite of active enhancements, he wouldn't have anything left to counter a Body Flicker-based barrage, or other techniques you might pull out.

He's likely aware of that, though.

Though you've taken a beating, you aren't going to give up fighting to subdue your darker half with words and restrained fists just yet.

"Gotta say, Shadow Me," you grate out, as you block a non-Flickering blow, "after everything in those visions about you putting down demons, I'm a little underwhelmed."

"What are you saying?" he demands.

"Are you holding back?"

"The hell I am!" he explodes, before rushing you in a Body Flicker, with another Overloaded Strike Flicker primed and ready to go.

You dodge using your own Body Flicker, simultaneously illustrating the most likely reason WHY your other self didn't try that before, and summing up the fight as a whole.

Yes, Shadow Alex has a lead on you in the physical department; if you've lost a quarter of your overall physical energy to his attacks, you'd estimate that he's lost somewhere around an eighth to your more restrained responses. By itself, that might be enough of a difference to encourage a change in plans, but when you take the difference in ki expenditures into account as well, the equation swings back the other way.

You were just slightly shy of full power when this fight truly got started, and you've now used up perhaps one-seventh of your total ki reserve. Shadow Alex has been more profligate with his energy use, burning twice as much of his ki in the same span of time.

If the fight keeps going at these rates, you'll be too battered to move in another ninety seconds or so, but Shadow Alex will run out of ki before then. Not MUCH before then - you make it seventy-five seconds or so before he runs dry - but you can do a heck of a lot in fifteen seconds, and that's before you bring the Body Flicker technique to bear.

Still, while your overall strategy hasn't changed, you don't exactly relish the idea of getting beaten black-and-blue by your alter ego. Some slight adjustments to your tactics may be in order, then.

Putting one of those into effect, you mentally reach through the familiar bond, sending Briar an inquiry. It's not precisely words, but if it were, they'd be, *Hey, Briar. Want to get big and help me beat myself up?*

Because really, what is the Power of Friendship, if not having your friends at your back in a fight?

Briar's answer, incidentally, is along the lines of an enthusiastic, *Do I!?*

There's one slight issue with this plan, and it's the fact that for all her magic, Briar isn't powerful enough to make herself human-sized. She's been reliant on you for that from the start, and while the familiar bond lets you employ spells on her that normally would only affect you, you still have to cast those spells - something Shadow Alex has been doing his level best to prevent. You'll need to break his focus.

You think you know how.

Bringing all your skill at concealing your energies to bear, you shape the ki necessary to use your Strike Flicker technique, holding it ready, while also gathering the mana needed to cast the Spell to Alter Self.

Gained Ki Concealment B++

Shadow Alex either misses or misinterprets what you're doing, at least until you actually start casting the spell, employing not only your rudimentary knowledge of casting in melee, but also that of casting when your hands are occupied by a weapon - because what are your ki-charged, kung fu fists, if not deadly weapons?

At this point, the spike in the mana you're drawing upon is such that Shadow Alex can't fail to realize that you're trying to cast a spell. He immediately moves to interrupt, engaging another Body Flicker-

-which you not only dodge in kind, but answer with your readied Strike Flicker.

*POW!*

Gained Body Flicker A+
Gained Strike Flicker D++

It's easily the single strongest punch you've landed on your counterpart since the Trial turned violent, and Shadow Alex staggers backwards, stunned by the psychological surprise of the blow as much as the physical force behind it.

In the scant second or two that buys you, you finish your spell, and Briar zips in to touch your hand.

Gained Spell Combat F+++
Gained Spellstrike F+++

A moment later, her human-sized self stands next to you.

You look at Briar.

She grins back.

Shadow Alex has just enough time to shake his head, throwing off your punch and the surprise of what you just did-

"BEHOLD THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!" you and Briar roar in unison as you charge, fists raised.

-and then you're on him.

The next few seconds reveal something very interesting.

For all that she's gained your understanding of the martial arts through the familiar bond, and been attending classes at Lu-sensei's "disguised" as your cousin, Briar has yet to make real headway in using ki techniques. Part of that is the lack of physical training to go with her intellectual grasp of the techniques, but the greater part is that she is a fairy, not human, and runs on different energies, which neither she nor Lu-sensei have yet managed to figure out a proper adaptation for.

Not that the pair of them haven't been trying. Your master honestly seems to enjoy the challenge.

As a result of all that, Briar is at a serious physical disadvantage in this fight, and really shouldn't be a threat to Shadow Alex.

And yet.

The sight of his friend and partner, human-sized and coming at him with fists raised, visibly shakes your counterpart. More than that, while he's able to defend himself against Briar's attacks, brushing her slower and weaker blows aside with relative ease, he can't bring himself to retaliate.

He tries, once. His fist just... sort of stops, mid-strike.

All of this adds up to Briar being one hell of a distraction.

You make the most of it.

*POW!*

*WHAM!*

*BAM!*

Shadow Briar is just as surprised by this development as her partner, but when she sees him getting hammered by your two-pronged assault - or maybe just a prong-and-a-half? - she flies towards him, bent on intervening.

"Oh no, you don't!" Briar says, breaking off from attacking Shadow Alex to throw a cloud of glittering dust in her other-self's flight path.

"Gaaah, I'm blind!" Shadow Briar cries, flinching away from the... not even a spell, you realize. What is that, just regular, uncharged fairy dust?

You can't imagine Briar would have wasted the reagent she needs to use her most powerful healing spell, but then where did she get that stuff? Is it just the dust she's naturally produced over the course of the day, or what?

You suppress your curiosity for the time being, and focus on the fight.

Even with your restraint, Shadow Alex's guard was so compromised just now that you think you did every bit as much damage to him as he did to you in the opening phase of the fight - enough to bring him close to almost half-strength.

This could be your chance to end the fight.

You know how stub- DETERMINED you are, and you can't imagine for a second that a Shadow-aspected projection of those tendencies you normally partly restrain or repress entirely would be any less Boar-headed than the regular you.

On top of that, he challenged you to prove the validity of your beliefs with your fists.

He's not going to stop fighting for anything short of a knockout blow, is he?

...

...no. No, you don't think he is.

Right, then.

Fighting to finish, it is.

JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT!

"FOOOORRRR FRRRRIIIIEEEENDSHIIIIP!" you roar, as you press your attack.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" Shadow Alex bursts out.

"MAKE ME!"

He does try, but you have your darker side on the back foot now. While he's not bad at it per se, he's clearly uncomfortable fighting defensively, which allows you to force more blocks and land more hits than really should be possible.

*WHAM!*

*POW!*

On top of that, with Shadow Briar still flying around, coughing and wailing dramatically about being blinded and dying, your partner is free to turn back to supporting yo-

*WHAM!*

-ooohhhh, he didn't.

The human-sized fairy staggers back from the hit, one hand cupped to her nose as she mutters, "Ow ow ow..." in a refrain of pain.

He DID NOT just punch Briar in the face.

For a moment, everything stops. You, your counterpart, and Shadow Briar all stare at Briar in mute astonishment as she lowers her hand, air hissing through her teeth as she winces at the spot of blood glistening on her fingers. Then, ever so slowly, you and the dark red fairy turn to face Shadow Alex, who is gaping at his extended left hand - still clenched in a fist, with a small, almost insignificant dot of red on one knuckle - as if he's never seen it before.

"That... that is..." He struggles to find the words. "This is exactly why we don't want our friends fighting with us."

Your response?

"WAY WRONG ANSWER!"

*WHAM-POW!*

Gained Words of Power B

Is a Strike Flicker-accelerated uppercut that takes Shadow Alex square in the chin, lifts him right off his feet, and turns him over twice in mid-air before he crashes back to the ground.

"Ugh," your fallen doppelganger groans as he lies there. "Yeah, I... probably deserved that..."

Distantly, a part of you is surprised that he isn't spitting out broken teeth, and chalks that up to the combination of Ki Armor and Ki Enhancement you know he's got running.

The rest of you is trying to sit on your temper and protective impulses, chanting over and over in your head that you wanted to subdue your shadowed side, NOT try to kill him. Even if he did punch Briar in the face, that's a legitimate move even by tournament rules, much less in a real fight, and Shadow Alex wouldn't be the first to hit one of your friends in the head - not by a long shot. Honestly, refusing to hit Briar in these circumstances just because she's your friend would have been dumb and disrespectful; it's actually a mark of his regard, that he'd treat her like any other opponent!

Right?

...

...maybe so, but you still want to hit him again.

With an effort, you resist the urge to ask your partner if she's alright - it's a bloody nose, for Din's sake; Briar can fix that level of damage with a simple spell - and walk over to stand beside your Shadow self. His hood was dislodged during his impromptu flight, leaving his upper face clearly visible for the first time in this entire Trial. Without the shadow and mystical characters framing his features, a lot of the Sith-like menace has gone out of his appearance, leaving a golden-eyed boy who looks desperately in need of sleep and sun.

Looking down, you measure his remaining energies. In terms of magic and even ki, he's still got plenty of fight left in him, but physically, he's close to drained. That last punch really left a mark.

Catching Shadow Alex's gaze, you state, "I think we're done here."

Shadow Alex sighs, closes his eyes, and rests his head against the stone floor. "...yeah, I suppose we are."

Once again, you sense the aura of Shadow Magic filling the chamber diminish - and yet, again, it doesn't vanish entirely.

You eye your counterpart warily as he sits up.

Without further hesitation, you extend your right hand, offering Shadow Alex some help getting back on his feet.

He regards you for a moment, and then accepts the offer.

"Not worried I might try to sucker-punch you?" he asks rhetorically, as you pull him up.

"More like I think I already proved I can take you," you retort. "That was sort of the point of this, right?"

Shadow Alex nods and releases your hand, before looking towards Briar, and thus drawing your attention that way as well. She's standing with her head tilted back a bit, to give Shadow Briar a clearer look at her nose and the interior damage.

"You know," the darker fairy comments, "I never realized just how large big people's nostrils are before this."

"Is this really the time?"

"Seriously, I think I could my whole head in there..."

"Please just tell me if it's still bleeding or not."

As one, you and Shadow Alex sigh and turn to face each other again.

"I know we don't see quite eye-to-eye on this," you tell him, "but I do understand you wanting to keep the people we care about safe. It's just... how do you think they'd feel about being cut out and not given a say in how they get to live their own lives? They might not have our Power, but they've earned the skills they do have. And isn't it better for them to get some experience dealing with supernatural problems with us at their backs, so that they're more prepared to look out for themselves when we aren't and can't be there?"

"I get it, I get it," Shadow Alex sighs, raising his hands defensively. "No need to beat me over the head with it. Friendship, teamwork, yay. Just..." He glances at Briar again, hesitates, and adds, "...watch out for them, alright?"

You're a little annoyed that he feels he even has to ask, but you go ahead and nod anyway.

With that, Shadow Alex walks over to stand before Briar.

"I'm not sorry that I hit you during a fight, Briar," he says frankly. "But I am sorry that I hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

She studies him. "Is this the part where I get to hit you once in exchange?"

"Sock him one!" Shadow Briar shouts. "Pow! Right in the kisser!"

Her partner regards her flatly for a moment.

"What?" the fairy asks with a tiny shrug. "I'm all her suppressed impulses and socially-unacceptable thoughts, remember? Wanting to hit the jerk that broke our nose is perfectly natural, even if that jerk is you."

She's not wrong.

"Your partner already knocked me off my feet." Shadow Alex raises a hand to his chin and rubs a sore spot that looks like it would develop into quite the bruise, if he were going to be around long enough for that. "How about we just call it even?"

"...eh, fair enough."

"Awww."

"I think we can leave it at that," Sage Elfaron declares, as he emerges from out of the shadow, wisps of darkness coalescing and taking on solidity, shape, and color until the little old man stands before you once more. The Mirror is still held before him, dark glass aimed forward, but he does not raise it, instead taking a moment to peer - with barely-open eyes - at the two shadow-selves.

"Can I help you with something, Sage Elfaron?" Shadow Alex asks guardedly.

"Hmmm? Oh, don't mind me. I'm just taking a moment to enjoy the sight of a successful Trial." You can actually see the broad grin behind that vast, bushy beard. "Do you know how rare this is? Especially with two shadows produced at the same time; that happens, with magic-users and familiars, but it almost never turns out well."

"I didn't think poor relations between masters and familiars would be that common in Hyrule," Shadow Alex ventures with a puzzled frown.

"They're not," Elfaron confirms. "Oh, you get the odd maladjusted sort every now and then, but magic-users who mistreat their familiars tend to lose them in short order. No, the issue is that a lot of sorcerers and wizards in Hyrule prefer to bond animals as their familiars, and when an animal with magically-granted intelligence is put before the Mirror, the resulting Shadow is usually running on instinct and identity issues."

You stop and think about that. How WOULD a cat or a dog or some other ordinary animal react to suddenly being as smart as a human? And what WOULD they think of their pre-Binding self, or the memories of that time?

That aside, Elfaron's good mood at the outcome of the Final Trial has bought you a moment of time. Aside from a farewell, is there anything you'd like to say or do to Shadow Alex and Shadow Briar, before they are dismissed?

"Before you send these two back to where they came from, Sage Elfaron," you speak up, "there's a question I'd like to ask you that may involve them."

This statement gets the attention of the room in general.

"Oh?" the ancient Sage of Shadow inquires, lowering the Mirror slightly. "And what question is that?"

"Okay, first of all, when I fought Dark Link a while back, I acquired a Heart of Courage that gave me the ability to recreate the effects of the Mirror," you explain.

Bushy white eyebrow lift in mute surprise.

"Of course, after hearing how the Shadows produced by the Mirror could... turn out less than ideally... I've avoided using that spell. Still, after how well this Trial worked out, I was wondering: would it be possible for me to use the Spell of the Dark Self to summon these two?"

You gesture at Shadow Alex and Shadow Briar, who blink in surprise at what you're saying.

"Hmmm..." The Sage bows his head for a long moment and strokes his beard, clearly contemplating the question you've put to him. At last, he looks up and replies. "Normally, I would say 'no.' Mucking around with one's Shadow-self in this manner has a history of going badly. However..."

"Yes?"

"However," he repeats, "with as positive an outcome as you've had here, it might be viable. But I would strongly recommend that we test this, while you're here under the Goddesses' aegis, before sending you back," he adds, with the sort of stern emphasis that makes it not really a 'recommendation' at all. "Is this acceptable to you?"

Does he even have to ask?

You turn to Shadow Alex. "Just in case this doesn't work out, any last minute min-maxing tips?"

He shakes his head. "You already know everything I do. It's just a question of how you apply it."

"Fair enough. Here's hoping I see you in a few, then."

"Likewise," he returns.

Then the Sage raises the Mirror. "Shadow, within!"

The expected wave of shadow-stuff erupts from the dark glass, tendrils coiling about Shadow Alex and Shadow Briar as they wave their - hopefully - temporary farewells, then collapsing and withdrawing back into the artifact.

"Within, reflected shadow!" Elfaron then commands, causing the Mirror's power to sweep over you and Briar in a perfect reversal of the manner it did when he used it at the start of this Trial.

You take a moment to consider your ki and other energies in the wake of this, but you don't feel any different for the "return" of the essence that composed Shadow Alex, just as you didn't for its "absence."

Maybe it's a symbolic thing? Magic in general is big on symbolism, and Shadow Magic in particular has a strong affinity for it. Even if your Shadow was really just a copy of you rather than a literal portion of your mind and spirit separated from the rest and given its own will, the act of his creation and the nature of his existence still left a very strong sympathetic link between the two of you. By returning what was taken, Sage Elfaron has prevented that connection from being used against you.

Thinking on it a bit further, it's also likely that if you'd attempted to cast the Spell of the Dark Self on yourself while Shadow Alex was already in existence, or still inside the Mirror, the magic might not have worked correctly.

It IS called the Spell of the Dark SELF, after all. Singular, rather than plural. If it were possible to throw multiple Dark Selves at someone, you think Ganondorf would have attempted it on Link at some point, and you can't recall that ever happening.

...then again, you are repressing most of the Demon King's memories, so who knows? Maybe he did try it.

Odds are it didn't work. Link is annoying that way.

Gained Illusion C

"Right, then," Elfaron declares, lowering the Mirror of Shadow. "You may proceed when ready. Try to focus your thoughts on the specific Shadow you desire to bring forth, but don't attempt to force the magic. The Spell will do as it will."

You nod, and gather your mana, aiming the Spell of the Dark Self at-

Yourself.

Without a moment's hesitation, you decide to go all-in on this spell. You focus on your image of Shadow Alex - you, but darker and more driven in some respects, while still eschewing the TRUE Darkness that lurks at the core of your soul - complete the chant, and press your left hand to your heart.

Immediately, an aura of shadow erupts around your person, billowing outward like a cloud of deep grey, darkest blue, and black fire. It rises and spreads swiftly, reaching out to the empty space in front of you in a manner very similar to what you've seen from the Mirror of Shadows.

And then that space is filled by your discolored doppelganger.

As the "un-light show" fades away, you take stock of your condition, and his. Although the casting of the Spell of the Dark Self didn't feel exactly like being exposed to the Mirror of Shadows, the differences seem to have been focused entirely on the fact that you were using your own mana, channeled through the internalized Heart of Courage, instead of relying on a wholly-external magic item to produce the effect.

Meanwhile, the end results of the magic are looking good. Shadow Alex appears exactly as he did a moment earlier, both physically and mystically.

"So, Other Me," you ask your counterpart, as he looks down at his hands and slowly flexes his fingers. "How do you feel? Any sudden urges to take over the world or the like?"

"No, nothing like that." He pauses, and grins. "Although you know I could be lying to you about that."

"You could try," you answer, "but we're not the best liar, and I think I'd notice."

"Yeah, probably."

Moving as one, the two of you turn to Sage Elfaron, who has been peering intently at Shadow Alex since he manifested, the faint mystical pressure of high-level, well-controlled Mage Sight and other sensory skills prodding at your darker twin's aura.

"What's the verdict, sir?" you and your Shadow ask in unison.

"It's looking good so far," he says, before withdrawing his sensory probes. "I'm going to cast a couple of spells to make sure, though." To Shadow Alex, he adds, "Don't try to resist these, hmmm?"

With that, he casts a high-level Spell of Divination, one that actually exceeds your own abilities in the school, though not by so much that you can't make sense of it. It looks like the Greater Spell of Arcane Sight, only with some extra bits added on for an even more thorough level of analysis.

You see Shadow Alex squirm uncomfortably under the magic.

Elfaron nods, and then performs a clerical spell. Where your arcane knowledge and skill were sufficient to grasp the workings of his first piece of magic, this one exceeds your understanding. It's definitely another Spell of Divination, but you simply don't have enough familiarity with divine magic to work out everything it's doing, or how it does it.

The best you can do is determine that it's nearly as powerful as Elfaron's first spell, and SEEMS to be an invocation to Nayru and Farore.

With graceful slowness, a beam of light descends from the banner-covered ceiling-

You realize in passing that the clinging shadows that covered the room when Elfaron first summoned forth Shadow Alex and Shadow Briar have vanished. When did that happen?

-a pale thing shot through with golden pinpoints of light that wink in and out of view in no obvious pattern. The light's path is initially only the width of a penlight or laser, but the whole thing grows steadily wider as it covers more distance, until by the time it falls upon Shadow Alex, it forms a pillar over two meters across. You half fancy that you can hear air being displaced as the light touches down on the floor around your look-alike.

Once again, Shadow Alex twitches as Elfaron's magic makes contact with him. This time, you think, it's less out of any metaphysical discomfort, and more a case of nerves.

The Goddesses are looking.

For a long moment, there is no sound in the room, and the only movement is the irregular appearance, disappearance, and reappearance of the tiny golden starbursts in the pillar of light.

Then the supernatural glow fades away.

"Two for two, then," Elfaron says with a nod. "Very good, lad. There's just one more thing I'd like to try, then."

"Oh, yeah?" Shadow Alex asks. "What's that?"

Balancing the Mirror in his left hand, Elfaron raises his right, making a sort of swirling gesture as he channels Shadow Magic. A baseball-sized orb of that same energy forms in his palm, and the old Sage bounces it once.

"Think fast," he says, before throwing it straight at Shadow Alex.

Even taking the old Sage's obvious physical frailty into account, his pitching technique is nothing to write home about, but even so, the sphere takes off like a Major League fastball!

Shadow Alex reacts instantly, right hand flashing out to intercept Elfaron's shadow-ball.

At the same time, your own hand shoots forth, seeking the same goal.

Between the way the Sage threw the projectile and how fast it was moving, you'd reflexively braced your hand for the smack of cowhide against skin. Instead of a solid impact, however, you register a sense of coolness verging on - but not quite achieving - cold, and behind that, the raw stuff of Shadow Magic.

Then the orb passes right through your fingers and palm, as if it - or they - weren't even there, leaving only that tingling chill.

Its reaction to Shadow Alex is a bit different. Where the sphere of shadow hit your hand at an angle, it impacts Shadow Alex's palm almost head-on, and sinks into his skin with the same lack of resistance your own flesh posed.

But it doesn't emerge. Instead, you can see a bulge passing through Shadow Alex's hand as the ball of magic alters its trajectory and moves towards his wrist.

"Gah!" Shadow Alex recoils and starts whipping his arm about. "Get it out, get it out!"

"Calm down," Elfaron says evenly.

"CALM DOWN!?"

"It's not going to kill you."

"NOT AS REASSURING AS IT SOUNDS, OLD MAN!"

"What IS it doing, Sage Elfaron?" you ask, eyeing the lump that is now in your counterpart's forearm and moving towards the elbow. Its passage is no longer direct from point-to-point, instead meandering a little this way and that, at one point pausing and backtracking.

It's rather like looking at a living thing moving around underneath Shadow Alex's skin, which is a disturbing image on multiple levels.

"It's just a magical sensor," the ancient Hylian replies with a huff. "Are you familiar with Prying Eyes, by any chance?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"It's a bit like those, in that it's a construct that serves as an anchor for various Spells of Divination. The main difference is that where Prying Eyes are designed to cover a large area and scan from the outside in, this is meant to examine a single object or creature from within, getting more precise information and bypassing a variety of defenses. Painlessly and harmlessly," he adds, with a sour look at Shadow Alex.

"Harmless my foot," your doppelganger mutters, not quite clawing at his shoulder as the 'sensor' crawls along. Having finally reached a part of his body that is larger around than itself, the last of the dark grey orb's outer surface disappears.

You can't stop yourself from asking, "What's it feel like?"

Shadow Alex regards you with a haunted gaze as he answers, "Like something cold is crawling around inside me, melting as it goes." He shudders. "I may never eat ice cream again."

...okay, harsh.

Elfaron's spell eventually reaches its destination, which Shadow Alex reports feels like it's right near the middle of his chest. He then mentions feeling the chill spreading out, which Elfaron states is the delivery vessel unpacking its various sensory spells to begin its analyses. Those go on for the better part of a minute, prompting all manner of little twitches and unpleasant faces from Shadow Alex, before finally stopping.

Then, without any warning, the ball of shadow re-emerges, flying straight out of Shadow Alex's body-

"Oh, Goddesses, that's JUST what I needed; a magical chestburster!"

-and back to Elfaron's waiting hand. He catches the orb easily and closes his bony old fingers around it, absorbing the construct and the information it contains.

Finally, the Sage of Shadow's shiny head nods. "And that's three for three. Congratulations; you're clear."

Shadow Alex appears less than happy with this news.

You honestly can't say that you blame him.

Is there anything else you want to say to Elfaron, before you formally (and finally) conclude the Trials?

You're not normally one to be leery of magic, whatever form it takes: Necromancy is not an art for the weak of heart or stomach; certain works of Illusion Magic can bring one's darkest nightmares to life; and Summoning Magic can call up literal horrors from beyond time and space. Even so, after seeing that particular spell, you'd really like to get out of here before Elfaron casts any more disturbing magic.

Despite that, there are a couple more things you'd like to discuss with the Sage before you go.

Bracing yourself for the possibility of receiving unpleasant memories, you end the Spell of the Dark Self, causing Shadow Alex to dissipate. He looks vaguely relieved as you do so, and after a moment has passed with no sudden sense of creeping cold in your system, you let out a breath and relax.

The fact that this spell doesn't automatically let you share the memories of your shadow-self does present a limitation to its ultimate usefulness, but at the moment, you're glad of it.

With that done, you turn to the Sage and give the Mirror tucked in his arms a nod. "I don't suppose you'll be giving the Mirror back to me?"

Elfaron shakes his head. "You required the Mirror of Shadows in order to save a mind, and ensure several lives were not lost. That has been accomplished; what further need do you have of its power, especially when you have already learned the spell that it emulates?"

"Actually, I've been made aware of another individual who may be in serious need of the sort of help the Mirror can provide." You pause, and look upwards. "Are we still being watched by the audience? Because this isn't the sort of thing I want to discuss in public; the people involved have a right to privacy."

"It's fine," Elfaron says, waving off your concern. "Although the Trial was set up to allow an audience, the Goddesses have control over what they see and hear. They'll have edited out anything they feel is unfit for public consumption."

This statement gives you pause. "...would that happen to include information about the Curse of Demise?"

Sage Elfaron nods. "Most definitely."

...

Does that mean, you've spent this ENTIRE time worrying about your greatest and most dangerous secret getting out... for NO REASON AT ALL?

"...right," you sigh. "Well, in that case..."

You go into some detail about your contact with Grey Voice, his worries about the human reincarnation of the "living thinking machine" Mother, and the possibility of using the Mirror on her to treat what sounds like a bad case of an evil past life intruding upon a present one.

Elfaron frowns as your story progresses. "I see. Yes, the Mirror would be more useful than the Spell in that instance... assuming either of them can help at all."

Your own expression takes a downturn. "You think they won't? Or can't?"

"The possibility exists," Elfaron admits. "The shadows that the Mirror and the Spell are meant to help one confront are of the mind; whatever effect an unquiet past life might be having on this woman's mind, reincarnation is a matter of the soul. Using the Mirror might be able to cure her entirely, or it could merely treat the symptoms of her condition, leaving the underlying cause untouched." Those narrowed eyes peer in your direction. "Not unlike yourself."

You raise a hand, acknowledging the hit.

"It's also possible that the Mirror would have no effect at all," the Sage continues. "And all of those outcomes assume the woman is willing and able to face her Shadow and accept it. Your own performances aside" - his nod includes Briar - "historically, that has been... rare."

Elfaron's mustache wriggles back and forth for a moment as he considers the problem.

"I believe I will have to consult with some of my peers on this matter," he declares. "Particularly the Sages of Spirit. Should they agree, or the Goddesses command it, the Mirror of Shadows will be returned to you so that the attempt to aid this woman can be made. But afterwards, it will have to be returned. Its proper place is in Hyrule, and it will be needed there again one day."

You get the impression he's not going to budge on that, and so, you nod.

(Temporarily?) Lost the Mirror of Shadows

"Alright, then. One last thing before I go?"

"Yes?"

"Did you want to join the party? What's left of it, I mean?"

Sage Elfaron blinks, and then chuckles. "Thank you for the invitation, Alexander, but I must decline." He gestures at himself. "This form wasn't created with the ability to leave the Ring of Trials, and as a Sage and former Guardian of the Triforce, my presence is far too likely to trigger your Curse in the real world."

A shame, but you were kind of expecting that.

With no more to discuss, Sage Elfaron tucks the Mirror under his left arm, and raises his staff with his right. "Before the eyes of the Goddesses and the gathered witnesses, I now declare the Trials complete!"

As he raps the butt of his staff against the floor, there is a flare of light.

And the next thing you know, you're standing over the Triforce emblem at the center of sand-filled Ring of Trials, a golden glow fading around you as all your guests look on in silence.

For a moment, there is only that hushed quiet, and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"YESSSS!"

Then Sokka starts whooping and clapping in approval.

"LET'S HEAR IT FOR ALEX!"
I like that kid.
There aren't so many people gathered here that you'd call the resulting applause thunderous, but they give it a good effort nonetheless.
But you like this kid better.
You stand there, honestly just enjoying the adulations.
That goes without saying.
Gained Din's Favor B+
Gained Farore's Favor C+++
Gained Hecate's Favor F++
Gained Warrior Born B

Then a Brother-Seeking Zelda hits you, babbling at two dozen words per second. You catch something about "flying," "all the fire," "a dragon," and "so COOL!"

You look around at the crowd. Most of the younger members are following Zelda's example and either getting up from their seats to come congratulate you in person, or are already on their way. Your parents are sitting where they were when you entered the Trials, looking kind of shell-shocked. The priests are over by the entrance, waiting with varying degrees of patience for their next - and last - part in the formalities of this event.

If you were a different sort of person, this would have been a good opportunity to go on a stress-relieving rant and air your frustrations about dealing with the Curse.

As you are, you just shake your head, push aside your annoyance at the effort wasted on needless worry, and carry on.

At this point, responding to Zelda's flying tackle-hugs with a one-armed catch-and-hug of your own is as much a conditioned response as anything else. You give her mile-a-minute babble all the attention it is due, and give your best effort at spotting and answering the excited questions that slip out between her less-interrogative but equally-energetic remarks.

"Yes, it was."

"Yes, those guys were both very good with swords. Technically, they're both better than I am."

"No, you still may not have a pet dragon."

"No, not even one with only a single head."

While Zelda is... not quite sulking over the rejection of her latest request for an exotic pet, you turn to the other members of the audience around her age. Souta has set aside his usual wariness of you, and is carrying on with almost as much excitement as your sister, while Kokoa's natural respect for and enjoyment of the nine-tiered battle you just fought has similarly overcome her on-again, off-again affected dislike. Karin and Yuzu are more restrained in their congratulations, and the two littlest Hayashis have fallen behind the rest of their peers a bit, thanks to dragging Emiko along with them.

And then there's all the little fairies, flying around and cheering in a cloud of congratulations.

"Holy crap, that was awesome!"

"Power of Din for the win!"
Heh.
"Oh yeah? Well, Courage of Farore for... um... something even better?"
...well, she tried.
"Why are we cheering again?"

"I still don't know!"

You do your best to accept the (at least mentally) younger crowd's enthusiastic congratulations with good grace, so that they don't feel like they're being ignored in favor of the older kids or the adults.

Zelda makes this a bit more difficult than it might otherwise be, but all the little sisters appear to take her first claim on your attention in good grace.

It's not just the younger girls, either; you catch some of the older "little sisters" looking at you, and then turning to their respective elder siblings with expressions of mock hurt and accusation.

You feel a soul-deep sense of empathy and pity for Hayashi Shinta, who gets hit with that look from half a dozen different directions at once.

Even that pales in comparison to what Biggest Brother Robin has to deal with.

Gained Big Brother D+++

Even as you entertain the younger crowd's eager interest, you keep one eye on your parents. Their shaken expressions make it clearer than words that watching the Trials was a major shake-up of their understanding of your abilities, to say nothing of the sort of activities you can and have used those abilities for, and you know they'll want to make sure you're really alright.

By the same token, you want to make sure that THEY'RE alright, or at least as alright as they can be.

But there's one more thing you have to do first. Disentangling yourself from Zelda - which is easier said than done - you make your way through the crowd to stand before the three celestial priests.

"Elder Terok. Madam Lanora. Koron." You intone their names with ritual formality. "I have returned."

"So you have," the aged Goron concedes.

"And in victory," the Zora woman adds.

"Nice fights!" the Kokiri says, giving you a thumbs up. "I especially liked the part where you set fire to all the Gohma!"

You are gratified to see that you aren't the only one who ends up staring at Koron for that remark.

On the one hand, yes, it's surprising that any forest-dwelling fae, much less one who's basically a sentient, ambulatory plant in his own right, would approve of such gratuitous use of fire. Burning to death would have to be one of, if not the worst fates an arboreal life-form could imagine.

On the other hand, the curse that Ganondorf used to torment and kill the Great Deku Tree DID take the form of a Gohma, so it'd be understandable for the Kokiri to have inherited a certain... intense dislike... of the spider-like monsters. Viewed in that light, it makes sense that Koron would take a certain dark satisfaction in seeing some of the things he despises perish in flames.

And it was a HOLY fire specifically meant to kill demons, besides. Priests generally approve of that sort of thing.

"Oh, don't give me those looks," Koron scolds his two peers. To Terok, he says, "If Alex had faced King Dodongo, and force-fed it a bunch of magical explosions, you'd be saying the exact same thing!"

The Elder blinks, and then half-shrugs, half-nods. "True enough."

"What's a Dodongo?" Zelda asks.

"A big, nasty, fire-breathing lizard," Briar informs her.

"...like the one that Alex fought second?"

"Kind of like that, yes, although the usual ones are only about two or three meters long, and don't look like they're made out of rock and lava."

Briar breaks off as Elder Terok clears his throat. "Getting back on topic... Alexander Harris, you have faced the Ring of Trials, and overcome its challenges. For this demonstration of your Power, you have earned a reward."

"You also faced the largest number of challenges possible, and did not yield at any point," Koron continues. "For this demonstration of your Courage, you have earned a reward."

"Finally," Lanora says, "your victory proved that you did not overestimate your own capabilities with the decision to face so many monsters in a row. For this demonstration of your Wisdom, you have earned a reward."

"For the first of your boons..." Elder Terok says, raising his walking stick.

The noise of the crowd dies off as motes of golden energy gather overhead, coalescing into a Heart Container. Turning slowly about its vertical axis, the object drifts down to your waiting hands. As you take hold of it, you consider the energy within, and how best to apply it.

After you have absorbed the Heart, Koron speaks. "For your second boon, please bring forth your Blessed Sword."

Blinking, you do so, performing the Spell of Summoning that calls up your Goddess-given weapon. At Lanora's instruction, you hold it forth, point-first, and the three priests lay their hands over the blade, calling upon the Goddesses. Auras of red, blue, and green shine where they touch the sword, and as the divine powers reach through the physical shell of the weapon to the mix of energies it has been absorbing from you even since it was given to you in Navi's Silent Realm, a golden glow spreads from point to pommel, until the entire weapon shines.

You hold the Heart Container before you, staring into its jewel-like structure as you consider your options. Assimilating the relic as-is would give you more vitality - two-thirds again as much as your body naturally generates, in fact - and that is never a bad thing. However, based on your observations of how the previous Heart Container has affected your internal energy flows, you can confidently say that a second Heart will not give you the sort of secondary benefits the first one did. In addition, it's rather rare for you to get injured, and you have several options for healing close at hand at every waking hour.

All in all, the first choice seems sub-optimal.

The possibility of gaining the power to create your own Ring of Trials as needed is also not without some appeal. You suspect that it wouldn't allow you, personally, to gain further rewards from the Goddesses - that would be too easy - but there's a non-zero chance that you could use it to benefit your friends and family that way, at least once each. Even without that, you can see uses for a secure location where the Goddesses can act more directly than they're able to anywhere else on Earth, and where you'd be able to test out destructive magic or train against powerful monsters with a measure of safety.

Still, even that option pales in comparison to the remaining one: the Heart of Spirit.

Ever since you first became aware of the malignant influence Ganondorf and the Curse of Demise have over your soul, you've been searching for ways to resist, reduce, and ultimately remove their threat to your well-being. Enhancing the power of your soul, and so increasing its ability to directly withstand such twisted forces, would be another step in that direction.

Furthermore, your ongoing studies of clerical magic - to say nothing of the examples of the priests you know - have revealed that mortal spiritual energy plays an important role in the invocation of divine magic. Having a stronger soul can only make you that much better at channeling the power of the Goddesses.

Then there's all the people you know who are somehow mixed up with spiritual forces. The Kurosakis and Arisawas; the Hakubas and Higurashis; the deceased Hyruleans; the Memorians; Elder Tiriaq; Kahine, and now her islanders; even Jermafencer; each visit with any of the above exposes you to spiritual power in some way, and carries a risk, however small, of drawing attention from unfriendly residents of the Spirit Plane. A stronger soul is better-equipped to face any such creatures determined to make or be trouble.

With all of those factors in mind, your choice seems clear, and you raise the Heart Container above your head. Its inner red glow changes as you do so, turning a pearlescent grey, such as you've seen from various spirits and specters.

"Da-da-da-daaaah!" Briar's siblings chorus.

Gained Heart of Spirit

"...why are you doing that, Alex?" Zelda wonders, looking up at you.

...

Um.

You don't yet absorb the Heart of Spirit, instead tucking it away in your pocket until you have a chance to set up the necessary spellwork to help you analyze the process. This might have to wait until after the party, but if so, you have no real issue with the delay.

Unlike with the Heart Container, the empowerment of your Blessed Sword happens all in an instant. In the same instant that you notice the change, images pass through your mind of wielding a holy sword, a sword that turns into other kinds of sword (or even other sorts of weaponry in general), or just a more powerful blade in general, only to be dismissed in favor of something more.

The golden aura around the Blessed Sword slowly contracts, and then suddenly expands once more, with a sound akin to a single heartbeat. It resonates through the hilt, up your arm, and into your very soul, and for a moment, you can almost hear something.
...ahhhh...?
Then it passes, leaving you with the no-longer glowing blade in hand.
Shhh. Just sleep for now, little one. Your time will come.
It takes you a moment longer to realize that the Spell of Summoning that brought the Blessed Sword to you lapsed at some point during the light show - or more correctly, was dispelled - and yet the summoned weapon is still here.
Even Nayru agrees that you've proven you can be trusted not to stab anyone who doesn't really deserve it.
"Wield it well," Terok says gruffly.
And this way, you don't have to worry about your sword being dispelled or banished mid-fight again.
Upgraded Blessed Sword

Deciding not to make a big deal of the apparent "bonus" gift, you salute the priests, and then carefully return the Blessed Sword to its sheath, tucking them both into your dimensional pocket.

"As for your third boon," the old Goron goes on, "it's simply this: you pass."

"Pass what?" Zelda wonders, looking around.

Surprisingly, it's not Briar who answers her, but Koron. "Your brother wants to take lessons from us," the Kokiri says. "He's raising some plants to pay for what I'm teaching him, and taking Lanora to talk to some other boring old people-"

The Zoran woman regards him with dry amusement.

"-to pay for what she's teaching him, but Grumpystones here-"

Terok huffs at this moniker.

"-wouldn't teach him at all unless he proved he could fight without just using magic to make all the bad guys go 'poof.'"

Zelda considers this with a frown. "He burned all the spiders, though?" she points out with some confusion.

"And that was one of the best parts," Koron says firmly.

After a moment, your sister nods. "Giant spiders are icky."

"The ickiest," the Kokiri agrees.

"So," Zelda says then, looking at the three priests, "Alex passed a test, and he got a big shiny heart, a glowy sword... and him for a teacher?" She points at Terok.

As Lanora and Koron nod, your Sibling Sense tingles, warning you that Zelda is about to do something that might be amusing, problematic, and/or both.

Oh, this ought to be good.
Zelda blinks at your response. "Really?" she asks, with some suspicion.

Carrying on as you began, you nod. "A lot of magic items are hidden in treasure chests, right?"

"Yes...?"

"And some treasure chests are big enough that when somebody our size pulls something out of one, they end up standing up straight afterwards, holding the item up." When your sister frowns, now slightly confused in addition to mildly disbelieving, you add, "Watch, I'll show you."

You put the Heart of Spirit on the ground and cast the Spell of Minor Images, surrounding the item with the illusion of a large wooden chest. You could climb inside and pull the lid down over yourself, and there's enough gold tracery and bright crystals set into the highly-polished steel bindings that the thing qualifies as a "treasure" in its own right.

As Zelda looks on in amazement, you turn the image of a large golden key in the massive lock, lift the lid, and bend over to dig around in the chest, pulling out the Heart of Spirit and lifting it high as you stand back up.

"Da-da-da-daaaah!" Briar's siblings chorus, again.

Zelda's eyes are bright and sparkling with wonder. "Oooohhhh..."

Relaxing from your pose, you turn to your sister and say, "You see?"

Zelda nods with an affirmative, "Un!"

You do your best to ready yourself for whatever is about to come out of Zelda's mouth. It's not just the entertainment value and potential imminent trainwreck that has your attention; part of you is honestly curious to hear what your little sister thinks about the rewards you've received for clearing the Trials.

Zelda looks up at the priests, and asks, "What about Briar? What does she get?"
...this is a good question.
The Goron and the Zora are both at a loss for words.
She didn't actually fight most of the monsters, though...
The Kokiri, on the other hand, starts laughing.
She faced down her Shadow, she beat the snot out of her Evil self, and she helped the boy beat his Shadow.
"Yeah," Koron's partner Vert says suddenly. "What DOES the hard-working, long-suffering fairy get for running a gauntlet of deadly battles with her partner, anyway?"
Considering she IS a fairy, that ought to count for something.
Still at her adult size, Briar slowly raises a hand. "Uh... I would actually like to hear the answer to that myself..."
What would we give her, though?
"Now, Briar," Navi chides as she approaches from the seats. "The satisfaction of helping your partner succeed and getting to show off in front of your entire family should be plenty of reward."
Heart Containers are traditional, but as a fairy, the added vitality would accelerate her maturation, and it would interfere with her bond with the boy.
"I'm not saying those were BAD or anything, Mom, I just..." Briar makes a vague gesture, her expression nervous yet hopeful, and concludes with, "...you know?"
Right, so, bad idea twice over. Hmmm...
Navi does seem to get whatever her daughter was trying to express.
...I might have an idea.
The priests, meanwhile, have gone into a huddle, and are debating this little wrinkle. Koron seems to be all for rewarding Briar in some fashion, and you're rather surprised to hear a supportive tone in Elder Terok's grumbling.

Something about recognizing the gumption it takes to punch Evil in the face, especially when it's your own?
Oh, my. Yes, that could work very nicely.
Most of the resistance seems to be coming from Madam Lanora, and even then, you don't get the impression that she opposes the idea, so much as has no notion of how to properly handle it.
Way to use your Mental Power for once, Hot Stuff!
Koron gives her a disbelieving look, and says, "Are you a priestess or not? Seriously, if there's something you don't understand, just pray for guidance!"
I will smite you.
This leaves Lanora looking rather embarrassed, but also quickly leads to all three priests bowing their heads and invoking the Goddesses' input on the matter.
Hold your fire until we're done with this.
For the second time today, motes of golden energy come together over someone's head, though this time it's clear that Briar is to be the recipient of the Goddesses' blessing. Instead of a Heart Container, however, what descends to Briar's upraised hands is a tiny crystalline phial, containing perhaps a thimble's worth of blue-tinted water that glimmers with flecks of green, red, and gold.

For the third time, the little fairies sing out, "Da-da-da-daaaah!"

Some of the audience are giving them weirded-out looks.

You have no idea what the water is, but its aura is primarily Elemental Water, shot through with Spirit, Light, and the common essence of the Fae. From Briar's expression of awe and delight - which is shared to some extent by all of her siblings large enough for their faces to be clearly visible; Navi looks more surprised, though approving - it's obviously a good thing.

"What is it?" Zelda asks curiously, as she bounces on her heels trying to get a better look.

"It's called Sacred Water," Briar replies, lowering her hands more so that your sister can see clearly. Even then, you note, she's holding the phial carefully, with both hands cupped around it. "It's really good at cleansing and purifying things, or helping them to grow fast and strong."

"That's... nice?" Zelda ventures.

"It's very nice," Briar assures her.

Your three year old (going on four!) sister obviously doesn't get the impact or importance of the gift - and to be fair, you're drawing a blank on the stuff yourself - but she takes Briar at her word and accepts that it's a good present.

There will be plenty of time for you to ask Briar about the Sacred Water later. At the moment, it's much more important that you talk to your parents, get a sense of just how badly watching the Trials rattled them, and - if you can - help them start coming to terms with it all.

Zelda's distraction over Briar's gift lets you slip away from her easily enough. Getting through the crowd of your friends is more involved, but a series of thanks, brief conversations, meaningful glances parent-wards, and polite excuses see you through in short order.

Both your parents are still in their seats when you arrive. Your father is idly petting Moblin with his left hand, but most of his attention is aimed to his right, where your mother is carrying on a quiet discussion with Catherine Madison.

You frown, thinking back to when you entered the Ring of Trials, and realize that Amy's mom wasn't sitting next to your parents at that time, but WAS there when you finally emerged.

Both of your parents have their attention directed away from you as you approach, but when Moblin looks up in response to your presence, your father notices and turns your way.

"Alex," he says carefully.

Catherine and your mother break off their conversation immediately, looking up and around.

"Dad, Mom," you greet them both, putting on a smile. There is a temptation to give them both a hug, but instead, you simply ask, "So what did you think?"

"I think," your father begins slowly, "that when you explained that this would be a series of fights, I got the impression that it was going to be more like what we saw on the tournament tapes."

"I did mention that I'd be fighting monsters," you point out.

"You did," your mother agrees. "But having met the Shuzens, the Hayashis, and some of your other friends, we thought you meant THEIR kind of monster, not those... huge things."

There IS quite a difference between Earth's sapient monstrous community, the sort of monsters that get summoned to battle by magic-users, and the denizens of Hyrule's Underworld. Your Dad, at least, had a chance to see some of the more overtly inhuman members of the first group in their natural forms back on Halloween, but even with all the youki that was floating around that convention center, the Japanese monsters were behaving themselves. By Halloween standards, at least. More than that, those monsters are the sort who've chosen to live with alongside humans, learning and respecting the rules and customs of human society - if only to a point.

In contrast, monsters like Arrogante and Searfang have no understanding of or care for human culture. In truth, they are - or were - little more than magical animals, primarily concerned with the simple needs of survival, but also possessed of a dark, aggressive edge towards all things not themselves or their kin. If even then.

And even that savage nature lacks the malice found in Hyrule's greater monsters, who are not only huge, powerful, and aggressive, but also intelligent enough to hate, to recognize and savor fear in their victims, and to plot and scheme.

Yes, your parents definitely have reason to be perturbed about the nature of your various opponents.

"Did you know, Alex?" your mother asks. "That you'd be fighting... those?"

Now is not the time to be splitting hairs or trying to exploit technicalities. Your mother expects a straight answer, and for the sake of peace in the family - and not getting grounded again - you give her one.

"I didn't know that I'd be fighting those creatures in particular, Mom," you begin, "but that I'd be fighting things LIKE them? Yes; that much, I knew going in."

Your mother is visibly displeased by this, and draws a breath to begin expressing her feelings.

You push ahead before she can do more than that.

"I also knew that the worst thing that could happen to me in the Trials is that I'd lose a fight in front of just about everybody that's important to me, and have to live with that. The magic of the Ring is set up to prevent people taking the Trials from being hurt by them; the worst outcome is that they get a good scare, some unpleasant memories, and maybe denied a chance to try again." You pause, frowning, and waggle your hand uncertainly. "I'm a little vague on that last part, though."

There has to be some kind of limit on how often people can challenge a Ring of Trials, at least when it comes to the matter of earning the favor of the Goddesses. You know that, having beaten this Ring, you won't be granted any further boons if you decide to run it again, even if you end up fighting more powerful creatures than you did on your first time through. You're not so certain about what would have happened if you'd lost at any point - or indeed, if there's any provision made for different levels of success and failure, rather than a simple pass/fail mechanism.

The only things you can say for certain are that failure would not have gained you the sort of boons you received, and that if you'd somehow managed to lose in the first round, Din would have been rather put out with you.
Damn straight I would.
When you started speaking with your parents, Moblin stood up from where he'd been sitting next to your father and trotted over to give you his own canine inspection, sniffing for injuries, enemy-scent, and other matters of importance.

Now, your dog sits back on his haunches and barks up at you, his investigation complete and apparently having turned up nothing troubling.

You reach down and give Moblin a rub behind the ears, which he accepts with delight.

While that was going on, Catherine Madison has been giving you her own once-over, her eyes glowing faintly with the light of active Mage Sight.

"Not a trace of foreign magic, except for what the priests have been calling on since you got out," she says, eyes returning to normal as she lets her power settle. "And from the dog's reaction, you don't smell of any of the creatures you faced, or even of the smoke that SHOULD be clinging to you, after that bit with the spiders, or the fight with the dragon. It's almost like you weren't really there at all."

She sounds impressed.

"I know what you're doing, Catherine," your mother tells the other woman. "It's not going to work."

"Maybe not, but neither is what you want to do," Mrs. Madison replies frankly.

Your mother is visibly startled by that.

"Your son just underwent a Divine Trial, Jessica." You can hear the capitals. "I don't think you realize how big a deal that is."

"Then enlighten me. Please."

You flinch reflexively and look around, half-expecting Lu-sensei to pop up with the Stick.

"Alright." Catherine Madison takes a moment to think. "The women in my family have been followers of Hecate for three generations - four, if you count Amy, although she hasn't come of age to swear her loyalties yet... anyway. My grandmother learned from an old woman whose own family were faithful to the Goddess of the Crossroads for centuries, and she had records going back even further. I have those books, and they detail what Trials like this involve, what they're for, and how rare they are. In something like nine hundred years, there are only five recorded Trials handed down by Hecate, three of which ended in failure."

"And your point is...?"

"The two women who PASSED their Trials both went on to become major figures among the followers of Hecate," Catherine replies. "One of them was High Priestess, and a major advocate for the Goddess's faithful to emigrate from Europe to the New World - and that was a HUGE deal for everyone. We all know Sunnydale's a hellhole, but at least it's a UNIQUE hellhole. If the Daughters of Hecate hadn't come West when they did, in the numbers they did? It wouldn't be."

Gained American History E
Gained European History E

"What," you say flatly.

Catherine turns to you. "It's a long story, and I'm leaving out a lot of the details, but basically, the Daughters and their allies ended up taking control of a lot of places of natural magic that had previously been watched over by the Native Americans." She raises a hand in a gesture that's half-defensive, half-apologetic. "I'm not saying it was a GOOD thing, any more than the rest of the dispossession of the natives was, but at least those places mostly ended up in the hands of people who'd respect them and care for them. If they'd fallen into the hands of the demonic cults that were ALSO spreading out from Europe at the time, things would have been a lot worse for everyone."

"How bad?" your father asks.

"At least as bad as half a dozen towns like Sunnydale spread across the country," Catherine tells him. "Maybe more. Maybe a lot more."

...

"Well," your father says lightly. "I know what I'm going to be having nightmares about for the next week or so."

Catherine smiles wryly. "Sorry, Tony. My point is, if the High Priestess of Hecate hadn't spoken in favor of a mass emigration when she did, it likely wouldn't have happened - not soon enough or in numbers enough to make the kind of difference it did - and the particular woman who WAS High Priestess wouldn't have been a serious contender for the job in the first place, if not for the respect she commanded with the other Daughters for passing Hecate's Trial."

"What are you trying to say, Catherine?" your mother says harshly. "That because he fought a bunch of monsters, my son is going to have to become some kind of... cult leader when he grows up!?"

"Chosen One, not cult leader."

Mrs. Madison and your parents all turn to look at you.

"What was that, Alex?" your father asks.

"Mom's worried about me becoming a cult leader, or some other kind of religious leader, because of what happened today, right? Well, as far as I know, just passing the Trials doesn't really put me in the running for that sort of job. It's a mark in my favor if I decide I WANT to become a priest, but as of right now, what I actually qualify for is the position of 'Chosen One,' which is... different."

There is a moment of silence, in which even Catherine looks taken aback.

"Oh, I have got to hear this," your father mutters. "Alright, Alex. How is being a Chosen One different from being a religious leader?"

Mostly, it boils down to a matter of origin and authority. Whatever faith they belong to and whichever titles they claim, priests tend to be the products of long periods of training and education. They're encouraged to follow certain doctrines, and are expected to interpret these and the will of their patron for their followers. While their guidance is ostensibly focused on spiritual matters, there are always those who prefer to let others do their thinking for them, or who wish to be the ones in charge, or who just give such legitimately good advice that following it in other parts of your life only makes sense. As a result, a priest of any rank holds some influence over his flock that goes beyond his main area of expertise.

A Chosen One, on the other hand, is more like a saint than a priest. They aren't specifically taught or trained to become what they are - indeed, they cannot be, as half of the equation that makes a saint relies on the favor of a deity. Becoming a saint requires acting in a manner that naturally embodies the ideals valued by a deity and their faith, and while it is entirely possible for a priest to become such, many saints held no spiritual office, much less the implicit understanding of and authority over doctrinal matters that goes with one.

Rather than a religious leader, then, a Chosen One is a spiritual icon - an example to emulate, rather than an authority to heed.

You try to express this to your parents, and you think you make some headway. At the very least, your mother hears you out without interrupting.

"Alright, then," your father says. "But these Trials were set up by a group of priests, right? Doesn't that mean that passing them gives you some of the influence you just said you wouldn't have?"

You consider that.

"Maybe a little," you admit, "but a Divine Trial is more like a graduation exam, with the Goddeses as the examiners. It's important, you want to pass it, and a high mark is definitely better than a low one, but once you have passed? It doesn't FORCE you to do anything else." You pause briefly, and then add, "Also, I don't think that getting an A+ on my Math finals last year has made anybody more likely to listen to me for anything, except advice on their homework."

"...fair point," your father agrees.

"But these Goddesses still want you be their Chosen One?" your mother asks.
Hey, now. I'm perfectly happy with my walking death machine!
"Just the one Goddess, Mom," you quickly clarify. "And it's... not so much a case of her 'wanting' me for the job as-"

"-me being uniquely qualified for it."

Your mother takes a breath before speaking. "This has to do with all the magic, doesn't it?"

You nod, because that's definitely part of the truth.

However, it's not the whole truth, and you say as much. "It also has to do with how fast I've learned martial arts, how well I do in school, how I manage to get along well with people from all over the world and entirely different species, how I made the equivalent of thousands of dollars in trade this year - even if most of it was store credit with Gen and magic gemstones - and let's not forget, how I did all of that by the time I was nine."

You sigh. There's also the matter of you having Ganondorf's soul, but you're still not ready to bring that up with your parents, much less in public.

Instead, you simply say, "Din is the Goddess of Power, Mom. No matter how you look at it, I am kind of ridiculously powerful."
Only "kind of?"
"Only 'kind of?'" your father murmurs.
Not helping, Farore.
"Not helping, Tony," your mother says.
...okay, seriously, can they hear us or not?
"No, Dad's got a point," you interject. "Like I said, I'm nine. Even with everything I'm capable of doing right now, there's only so much that it's smart or safe for me to do. That will change as I get older, especially if I take the time to build up my skills and my resources - and that's what taking these Trials was about. There's a kind of magic I've been hoping to learn from the priests, and since I'm not another priest of their faith, I had to pay them for the lessons. Madam Lanora wanted to speak with other priests, magic-users, and scholars on Earth, and I helped her meet the ones I know; Koron wanted me to try and grow some plants, and I've been doing that; and Elder Terok wanted to see me fight, so he proposed having me take the Trials."

For a given value of "proposed," anyway. The old Goron was projecting a very "my way or the highway" attitude at the time, and you suspect if you'd refused to take the Trials, that would have been the end of your working relationship with him, such as it was, unless or until you changed your mind.

"And why do you want to learn this magic?" your mother presses. "What can it do that the magic you already have can't, and that's so important it couldn't wait until you were older - say, out of school?"

Er.

There are a number of reasons why learning to wield divine magic in the Dinnite style will be advantageous to you. Divine magic is more naturally suited to working spells of healing, purification, and the smiting of evil incarnate than arcane magic, and given the world you, your family, and your friends live in, such things are resources you refuse to do without. Divine magic is also unquestionably superior in the field of resurrection magic - something a wielder of pure arcane power would only ever be able to pull off by means of a well-worded Wish, or a mercenary deal with a Power of uncertain motives and questionable loyalties - and once again, you cannot and will not deny yourself possession of such a tool in your arsenal.

You pray to all three of the Golden Goddesses and any other friendly deities who are listening that you never NEED that last resort, but it will be far better to have the means and never require them, than to be caught in the reverse situation.

For all of that, though, the reason you originally began seeking a way to add divine spellcasting to your repertoire was because Cordelia is under a curse that requires divine intervention to safely break. Whether as an anointed priest or a Chosen One acting in his role as a divine Champion, you'll have the ability to call for that intervention and save your friend.

And more than that, you might learn something that will help you to save yourself from the Curse that hangs over you.

But you aren't ready to tell your parents that last part. Instead, what you actually say is that you want to learn divine magic in order to-

-help your friends and family.

Although Cordelia's situation is a factor in your desire to learn divine magic, it's not something you feel it would be proper to discuss without the girl's permission, much less in a public venue like this.

So, polite and considerate soul that you are, you don't bring it up.

It's not like you don't have plenty of ammo for this particular argument that doesn't require you to reveal a friend's secrets.

Meeting your mother's gaze, you say frankly, "We live on a Hellmouth, Mom. I know that you know that Sunnydale isn't safe, but I'm not sure you get just how bad it is."

She folds her arms. "And you do?"

"I know it's bad enough that I've been going out of my way to avoid notice from the locals ever since Briar explained the danger to me," you reply. "And the physical threats aren't the only thing that we need to worry about. I've met people from the supernatural side in Japan who've accused me of living on a battlefield or being a soulless killer, just because I couldn't scrub out the mystical stink of the place. The Shuzens, who are admittedly some of the scariest and most powerful people I know, won't accept phonecalls from Sunnydale, because they're concerned that a curse might travel over the lines - and with as much as I know about magic, I can't say they're wrong to worry. I definitely haven't forgotten what happened with Uncle Rory's taxidermy collection."

"Neither have I," your father agrees with a shudder. In an undertone, he adds, "Not for lack of trying..."

This reminder of semi-recent family history strikes a chord with your mother in a way that some of your other stated examples didn't, and likely couldn't. It's not that she thought you were exaggerating, or that she didn't have a frame of reference for what you were talking about; it's just that the matter of Rory's possessed hobbywork is something that had a direct, demonstrable impact on the family.

With your mother briefly distracted by your father's flash of discomfort, you glance at Catherine Madison, wondering if you should use the situation you helped her out of as a further example. Upon reflection, you decide not to bring it up: it's a personal issue for Mrs. Madison; and you don't want this discussion to get too confrontational. It's verging on an argument as is.

"I want to keep my friends safe, Mom. I want to keep you and Dad and Zelda safe. The power I have now helps me do that to a point, but the more I know and the more I can do, the better prepared I can make sure we all are." After a moment's thought, you add, "And I don't think we can afford to wait for me to graduate. I've already had to dodge one demon in school that I can't believe was up to any good, even if he DID work for the school district."

That definitely takes the wind out of your mother's sails.

Is there anything more you want to talk with your parents about right now?

Your mother's reaction is not entirely comfortable to look at, and you briefly avert your gaze, taking the opportunity to check on what your guests have been up to while you've been talking with your parents.

About half of your friends, and a few of the adults besides, have congregated around the priests. Gyokuro and Lucia seem to have taken on leading roles, and are discussing something with Elder Terok. You don't sense any unfriendliness in the air over the crowd, but there's a certain intensity between the trio.

Reminded of your obligations as a host, you offer to continue the current conversation later, in a less public venue.

Your father speaks for both your parents when he says that's probably a good idea.

You nod, half-turn to leave, then turn back around and go over and give your mother a hug, muttering an apology.

Because for the Goddesses's sake, you just told her that her not-yet ten-year-old son is not only keenly aware of just how dangerous the world is, but also actively planning and pursuing means to protect his family and friends.

Your mother doesn't speak, but she does return the hug.

You stay like that for a minute before excusing yourself.

Under the circumstances, you figure you'd better see what it is about the priests that caught everyone's attention.

Looking at the make-up of the crowd - which includes basically all the monsters and high-powered martial artists on the island - you have a pretty good idea what's going on, but you might as well make sure of it, and see if there's anything you can do to address the matter.

As it turns out, your guess was spot on; Gyokuro, Lucia, and Terok are discussing what would be involved in resetting the Ring of Trials for other people.

"-not a trivial magic," Terok says as you get into earshot. "It took weeks of work to set up the Ring for the boy, and not only does he have the Goddesses' favor, he lent a hand in the process."

"I refuse to believe that you need to recreate this entire facility from scratch for every single person that means to face its challenges," Gyokuro says flatly.

"Indeed," Lucia agrees, golden hair glinting under the mid-day sun as she waves towards the squat central tower of the Ring, and half-turns to face it. "Assembling a structure of this size for a single use alone would be a foolish waste of resources- ah," she cuts off, seeing you approach. "Alex, good. Perhaps you can help us get through this stubborn old boulder's thick skull?"

You lend an ear, and quickly discern that Elder Terok doesn't actually to have any objection to people who aren't affiliated with the Goddesses facing the Trials. Indeed, he sees it as a perfectly fine method of displaying the power of the trinity to non-believers - Din's Power in particular - and also for helping to identify strong souls that might be worthy of cultivation as converts, allies, or friendly rivals.

He's really just haggling with the two matriarchs about the price of admission. As he said, the magic that powers the Trials isn't exactly a trivial one, and what is given freely to members or favored affiliates of the faith requires fair recompense from outsiders.

If all it really takes is magic to fuel the Ring, you've got mana to burn, even with the added cost of bending your natural arcane power towards what is usually achieved by divine ends. It'd tie you up for the rest of the afternoon - or however long it takes everybody to run the Trials enough to satisfy their curiosity - but it would be an appropriate thing for you to do as the host.

Alternately, you could cover the charge for your guests to use the Ring out of your own funds. Again, it would be the right move, and at 1 Rupee per participant, it'd only come to a total of - you quickly count heads - 30 Rupees or so. And of course, you could always try to argue the Elder down.

If you want to save your money, you could always offer to do the priests - and by extension, the Goddesses - an equivalent service later.

And failing all of the above, you could just let your guests pay for this service. At roughly $13 a head, it's not like Terok is asking that much, even by the standards of your fellow middle-class families, and there is something to be said about dignity and paying your own way. Not to mention the point of charging people isn't mercenary in nature - or at least not ENTIRELY mercenary - but rather asking them to show a measure of respect by making a sacrifice for the divine service they are requesting.

You've got plenty of gas in the tank, and as the host, it is only fitting that you cover the costs for arranging your guests' entertainment.

You say as much to Terok, and then grin, adding, "Besides, this way you and Lady Kahine can spend more time together."

Terok's expression visibly twitches at that. "Er... yes." With deliberate casualness that couldn't look more fake if he tried, the Goron Elder glances over his shoulder and then around at the crowd, as if expecting your use of the volcano-spirit's name to have summoned her.

But no, Kahine is still up in the seating area of the Ring, talking with Lady Takara, Uncle, and Navi.

Elder Terok does NOT breathe a sigh of relief at the sight.

"Thank you for your... consideration," he adds. "Still, I have responsibilities of my own - and it would hardly be right to push the work involved in this off on you, when today IS your birthday and all."

"No, no," Koron interrupts with a broad grin. "It's fine, Old Stone. That's why there are three of us here; you can delegate! Lanora and I can show the kid how to power the Ring, and you can go ahead and enjoy the time with your lady-friend."

By rights, Terok's glare should have set the Kokiri on fire, or at least started him smoldering.

As it is, Koron just grins, grabs your arm, and starts pulling you towards the nearest set of stairs.

You put up no resistance, and a moment of light, sparkling laughter from behind you tells you that Madam Lanora is following in your wake.

You think you hear a gravelly cry of, "Treacherous fae!"

...eh, probably just your imagination.

As word and then cheers spread in the crowd behind you, you feel your dimensional pocket grow warm once again.

Gained 10 Gratitude Crystals

The two priests lead you to the top of the Ring's central structure, where you greeted this day's dawn in meditation. Along the way, they explain that the statements Gyokuro and Lucia were in the middle of making right before you got involved with the negotiations were correct; the Ring of Trials is indeed set up so that it can be used more than once. It is also purposely designed to require a second party to operate, someone who can serve as a direct link to the Goddesses (who are, after all, the ones really administering the Trials), provide enough energy to top off the Ring's reserves when needed, and offer any emotional support the participants might require.

After all, it doesn't really matter that your horrible death at the claws of a terrible monster was all just an illusion; you REMEMBER it just as well as if you'd genuinely died and been revived.

Some people have understandable issues with that sort of thing.

While it is possible for a single person to operate a Ring of Trials, the followers of the Goddesses prefer to exhibit their typical preference for triads and trinities, and split the responsibility three ways. They do so again now, with you taking on Terok's role and channeling raw mana into the glyph-carved stone beneath your feet, while Lanora performs the simple ritual that resets the Ring for a new challenger, and Koron acts as the divine intermediary.

That, of course, leaves the question of who is going to face the Trials first, and how far they should get to go.

Taking into account both your inefficiency at replicating divine magic and your control over your mana, it costs you 1% of your maximum mana to power a single Trial. You have about 30 people who'd like to try their luck in the Ring, so simply from the limits of your own capacity, even if you were to use up all the magical restoratives you have on hand, you couldn't afford to give everyone the full Nine-Trial Challenge experience.

If you're being completely honest, even with the Ring and the Goddesses picking the Trials to match the challengers' strength, you have your doubts that all of your friends are capable of fighting right to the end. And there ARE other things you need mana to do over the remainder of the day, as well as tomorrow, which you won't be able to eliminate the costs of via ritual work.

On top of that, there's the time factor to consider. All told, it took you about twenty minutes to run the Trials, though that's including the handful of delays: talking with Xander and Evil Alex; waiting for Jermafencer to regain consciousness; and of course, debating with Shadow Briar, Shadow Alex, and Sage Elfaron.

With that in mind, how many Trials do you think your guests should be allowed to face?

For the sake of keeping things fun for everyone - and conserving your significant but not unlimited resources - you're inclined to allow those of your guests who are interested in challenging the Trials to face three rounds each.

Then something occurs to you.

Did you or did you not just face down a copy of yourself, wielding every bit as much magical energy as you possess?

You did.

Could you not simply summon Shadow Alex again to support you in meeting the Ring's energy needs?

You think you can.

And after everything the two of you argued about in the Final Trial, would he not get behind the idea of helping so many of your friends to test and improve their strength?

You believe he would.

Reaching within yourself, you call upon the power of the Heart of Courage, and cast the Spell of the Dark Self once again.

As Shadow Alex reappears, wincing slightly under the light of the early afternoon sun even with his hood up, you take his measure, seeing if being summoned twice in one day has had any detrimental effects. You don't spot any; his mana feels like it's about the level yours currently is, and his other energies are at similar levels.

Still, it's something to keep in mind, until you have a lot more experience using this particular spell. Two uses do not make you a master.

Shadow Alex, meanwhile, has lowered his hand to shoot you a cocky grin. "Missed me already?"

"I discovered a sudden need for more power, and I immediately thought of you," you retort. Then you go on to explain your idea.

Currently, you and Shadow Alex have about 200% of your maximum mana between you, plus restorative items - although when you bring that up, Madam Lanora quickly cautions you NOT to put anything conjured from Shadow into your own body, even on a temporary basis. The magic associated with the Element of Shadow is categorized under the School of Illusion for a REASON, this being that even its most realistic-seeming creations are still fundamentally shadows, lacking the substance of the real thing.

Incidentally, this means that Shadow Alex's supply of mana potions and restorative gems are effectively useless, even to him. He's not best pleased by that revelation.

Still, 200% of your mana, plus whatever you can safely draw from Bali Ha'i's environment, plus your stock of restoratives, is enough to make the idea of a Nine-Trial Challenge for all comers affordable, if still not your most favored idea.

You decide to leave it up to your guests. Calling down from atop the Ring, you tell them that the Trials are meant to be faced in groups of three, six, or nine, and that each participant will need to consider carefully how many rounds they personally wish to endure. Choosing the number of Trials to face is, after all, part of the test; better to take a lower number and pass, than to take on more than you can handle and fail.

There is some discussion, some private contemplation, and a lot of sidelong glances among the crowd. In the end, you're not really surprised when Altria and all four Shuzen sisters declare their desire to face the full nine Trials - although following a warning glance from Gyokuro, Kokoa grumbles and "decides" to go with just six rounds instead.

Everybody else is still thinking it over - or in Sokka's case, pulling their hair and arguing with themselves - so you decide to charge up the Ring for the first batch of contestants.

There's some debate as to who gets to enter the Ring of Trials first, but since Altria has to head back to her quarters to get her sword, that leaves it among the Shuzen girls, and Moka and Kokoa are both quick to yield the position to their elder sisters. After a moment's hesitation, Kahlua follows their lead, and so it will be Akua who takes on the Ring first.

Issa's oldest daughter is visibly restraining her eagerness as she approaches the Triforce emblem in the center of the Ring...

You really want to see what Kahlua's older half-sister is capable of in a fight. In part, it's because you've sparred with or observed the fighting styles of the other three Shuzen sisters rather extensively by this point, and you're honestly curious about how well the four of them compare to each other.

More than that, Akua is the only member of the immediate family that you have yet to establish a defined relationship with. Your birthday party has, hopefully, helped to make a good first impression, both for the events and the venue itself, and because of how it's given Akua a chance to observe your interactions with the rest of her father's family.

On the off-chance that it hasn't, though, you'd sleep a little easier knowing something of how the oldest vampire girl fights.

Particularly since she's seen you fight a couple of times now.

With that in mind - as well as the fact that Kahlua and Altria are going to face their own Trials shortly after this, probably in that order, and you want to watch the two of them as well - you energize the Ring quickly, spending enough mana to power a ninth-tier spell, and then hand off the responsibility for fueling the next few challenges to Shadow Alex.

Recognizing that this IS why you called him up, and that he'll effectively learn anything you do when you end the Spell of the Dark Self and reabsorb him, Shadow Alex doesn't make TOO much of a fuss about being put to work so quickly.

As for Akua, when she sees the Triforce emblem in front of her and the markings on the walls of the arena start to glow, she steps forward with only the slightest sign of hesitation. The magic of the Ring of Trials doesn't take full effect until Akua is entirely within the small circle defined by the symbol, but as she passes over that glimmering threshold, her body becomes noticeably translucent.

Once Akua is fully inside, you witness what your guests saw when you entered the Ring. Instead of a huge scrying globe appearing in the air overhead, the humble sand-covered arena seems to expand outwards, its humble and honestly rather cramped twenty-foot diameter growing exponentially in all directions, becoming a dark woodland area that could be anywhere in Hyrule at night, or deep in one of the greater forests during the day. You can hear birds calling in the distance, and the scents of damp earth and green, growing things are as strong and clear as if you were there yourself.

Despite this, the fighting area manages to remain "contained" by the structure of the Ring, and you find you have no problem keeping your attention on Akua. The young vampire is visibly startled and reluctantly impressed by the sudden shift in scenery, even though she had to have been expecting it. For a moment, she stands where she is, taking in her new surroundings.

Then the birds suddenly hush, and Akua's head turns to her right, gaze narrowing as she senses something approach.

By the sharp report of branches snapping asunder as something pushes through the undergrowth, the incoming creature is quite large, and the snuffling, snorting, snarling sounds you hear speak of aggression and anger.

And then, with a final crackling of broken tree limbs, a massively muscled monster twice as tall as any mortal man steps clear of the treeline. Dark, piggy little eyes glare balefully down at Akua from a face like the ugliest bulldog ever born, and the beast levels a spear even longer than it is tall at the young vampire, roaring a challenge.

DEMONIC FOREST GOBLIN: GREAT MOBLIN

"Gah!" Koron squeaks, as he drops into a squat and brings both arms up to shield his head. "Moblin! Hide!"

At your heel, your dog - who has been trotting faithfully along behind you since you spoke with your parents - regards the quaking Kokiri with a confused whine.

"Alex!" comes a cry from below, where the audience returned to their seats. The one speaking up - and indeed, standing up - in protest is Moka, who is pointing at the image of the forest demon with one hand, while shooting an accusing glare up at you. "THAT'S what you named your dog after!?"

There is a pause as the entire audience look from the girl, to the giant monster, to you and your dog.

In the Ring, Akua has been taking the time to get the measure of her opponent, allowing the Moblin to stab at her with its outsized spear. The Hyrulean monster's opening assault is as aggressive as its bellowing suggested, but it's not reckless; the beast actually shows a fair hand at controlling the massive weapon, stabbing without overextending, using the broad-bladed head to make sidelong slashes that keep Akua moving, and giving a good effort at controlling the range.

Gained Spear Training E

Then, about ten seconds in, Akua sidesteps a thrust, grabs the haft of the spear, and uses her vampiric strength to force it down across her knee.

The sound when the haft snaps into splinters is like a gunshot, and the Moblin is left visibly stunned and dismayed by the damage to its weapon.

Then Akua closes the distance between them, and the giant goblin has much greater things to be upset about.

For all of, oh, another ten seconds.
Oh-ho!
As the bloodied and broken Moblin falls to the ground and explodes into darkness, you catch Akua smirking.
Cocky little minx, isn't she?
...she did just beat your record for "Fastest First Trial" and "Fastest Trial," didn't she?
Let's see how long that lasts.
Then the contents of the Ring change from twilight forest to wintry mountainside. Akua looks around, shivering - as much at the presence of all that frozen but potentially meltable water as for the actual chill, you think - and then suddenly leaps away from her starting point as a nearby snowbank erupts into a white-furred humanoid form with blood-red eyes, a snarling maw full of fangs, and razor claws.

The tips of its right paw, you realize, are stained faintly red, matching the thin line that cuts across Akua's left forearm for a moment, before her accelerated healing closes the wound.

Gained Sneak Attack D

HOUND OF WINTER: WHITE WOLFOS

This fight lasts longer than the first one, due to several factors. The Wolfos has much greater speed and faster reflexes than the Moblin did, as well as the ability to drop into the deep snow and just disappear. On top of that, its successful opening strike has made Akua more wary and focused on defense.

It's quickly made clear that, whatever her skills in hand-to-hand fighting - and those are considerable - Akua doesn't have anything like Gyokuro's level of sensory acuity. Now that she's focused on keeping her guard up, she's quick enough to avoid being caught when the Wolfos bursts from hiding, but she can't find it prior to that, or even sense it coming until it's very close indeed.

That said, while the Wolfos is fast enough to make the match interesting, it doesn't have the hardiness to keep up for long. Akua only hits it three times, but that's all she needs; when the last blow connects, the Wolfos explodes into a spray of white particles, which mingle with the blowing snow and are quickly lost to sight.

The next Trial takes place in a cavern, lit by iron braziers. Akua keeps her guard up this time, but when several seconds pass with no apparent enemy arriving, she starts to frown - only to abruptly look up at the ceiling, as the "stalactites" covering the roof of the cave reveal themselves to be something else entirely.

A swarm of Keese open their dark little eyes and gaze down at Akua, who stares back in clear astonishment, with just a hint of the same girlish delight you've seen her sisters direct towards bats.

Then the Keese unfurl their wings and let themselves fall from their perch, diving towards a spot on the floor a fair distance from Akua. Here, the monsters begin to circle a single point, their movements carrying them closer and closer together, until they must inevitably collide and crash. Yet instead, you see the Keese's wings passing through each other. Their orbits grow closer yet, and what was a swarm of monster bats now becomes a shapeless mass of fur, stretched skin, and high-pitched squeaking.

And then the mass unfolds, revealing a new form. Two great bat-like wings unfurl to their full extension, revealing an inverted figure with a reddish, roughly humanoid body. Between those features, the claws on all four limbs, and its spade-tipped tail, it could be a classic devil or demon out of Earth mythology - but the monster's face is like that of a huge bat, with large ears framing narrow eyes that glow with unholy magic, and a mouth whose canine teeth protrude past the lips in a vampiric grin.

DEMON OF THE NIGHT: VIRE

With a shriek, the monster spits flame at Akua, and uses her brief distraction to get itself airborne with a few powerful wing-beats.

Once again, the fight is not a short one. The Vire is smart, and exploits its advantages of flight and a built-in ranged attack for all they're worth. The fireballs turn out to be of limited use against a target as fast as a vampire, at least at the ranges the Vire is comfortable launching them from, but the monster's wings are a definite benefit, especially with the size of the cavern giving it plenty of room to use them.

Akua finally grows impatient and punches a nearby outcropping of stone, shattering it into half a dozen fist-sized chunks. She then begins flinging the improvised ammunition back at her opponent - and her aim, as well as the sheer speed she's able to put into her throws, proves better than the Vire's.

Gained Sunder F+
Gained Thrown Weapons Training F++

At least until it takes a direct hit and explodes into a cloud of Keese again, which aggressively swarm around Akua. The girl actually freezes, looking reluctant to strike at the bats-

"Oh, that is just EVIL!" Kahlua cries out in protest.

Her sisters make similar noises of unhappy agreement, and you catch Akasha trying very hard not to laugh, while Gyokuro just shakes her head.

Issa, incidentally, is patting Kokoa on the back.

-but when the little monsters start biting her, she returns the favor with interest.

The surviving members of the swarm break off, flutter back to a safe distance and altitude, and re-form the Vire - who promptly takes a rock to the brainpan, flung by a very annoyed-looking young lady.

"YEAH!" the other three Shuzen sisters exclaim.

"Beat that jerk!" Kokoa adds.

This time, when the Vire dissolves into a Keese swarm, Akua shows no mercy.

Shortly thereafter, she's removed from the cavern, and finds herself in the middle of a desert at night, with nothing as far as the eye can see but sand, stars, and the moon. Accustomed as you are to life in Sunnydale, you realize it must be fairly cool, though perhaps not so bad as the winter mountain was.

Perhaps Akua was thinking of her fight with the White Wolfos as well, or maybe it's just that the bulge which appears in the sand is so much larger; either way, when it moves towards her, she makes a point of getting out of the way as her newest opponent reveals itself.

What erupts from beneath the sand is a segmented worm-like body, easily thirty feet long. Its head is reminiscent of a centipede, with large, serrated mandibles that snap fiercely at the air, dripping acid from their prongs as two huge compound eyes glitter in the moonlight, staring down at Akua through a hundred frames. Thick plates cover the body, scratched and smoothed by unknown years of passage through the desert sands, and dozens of squat-looking legs - each as big as Akua's entire body - twitch eagerly along the length of the body.

DESERT CRAWLER: LANMOLA

Akua meets the giant worm's multi-faceted gaze with a look of determination, but you can see hints of uncertainty in her posture that were not present in any of her previous fights, not even when she hesitated against the Vire's swarm-form.

It occurs to you that Issa's firstborn may not be accustomed to fighting monsters with completely inhuman bodies.

Moka frowns at the response you shout back down to her. You can see the obvious question floating around behind her eyes, but she doesn't give it voice.

One Trial later, as a white, lupine humanoid leaps from a snowbank at Akua, you point at the image and call out, "See what I meant?"

"Are you sure that's not a werewolf?" Moka asks after a moment. Her response is delayed due to her attention being fixed on her sister's fight, and the wince prompted by the Wolfos's opening blow.

"No, it's a Wolfos. They either look like that or like red-eyed wolves, never anything that you could confuse for a human."

Or so the volume of the Holy Books dedicated to the identification of Hyrule's monsters would have you believe.

Your suspicion about Akua's lack of experience in fighting beings that don't follow the fairly common bipedal humanoid body plan is borne out by the lack of progress she makes in fighting the Lanmola.

The desert monster displays three main methods of attack. The first is to simply try ramming Akua, either while remaining submerged in the sand or by taking a "flying leap" above the surface. It's basically a larger, harder-hitting variation on the White Wolfos's attack plan, and much like that one, it's easily foiled by Akua's vampiric senses, reflexes, and strength. More so, even, as the Lanmola's size makes its passage obvious even to those members of the audience who lack significant night vision.

The Lanmola's second method of attack is to dive deeper under the sea of sand, and then erupt straight up from beneath its quarry. This is technically more successful, in that the beast's explosive reappearance manages to catch Akua a couple of times. However, because it has its maw closed for the first few seconds of its emergence, it really just ends up throwing Akua into the air - and while she can't fly, she proves acrobatic enough to turn these "attacks" into impromptu takeoffs, putting distance between her and her much larger enemy.

Her first landing is a little awkward, but she gets the hang of touching down on the sand quickly.

Finally, once exposed, the Lanmola will snap its head forward like an oversized, bug-eyed cobra, lashing out with astonishing speed for something of its size as it tries to seize Akua between its scything mandibles. Given the size difference between the two of them, the bigger monster could likely swallow her whole, and Akua is having no part of that; the first time the Lanmola tries, she ducks the blades of its jaw as they sweep together, and punches the beast in the chin.

Although the Lanmola's head recoils slightly from the blow, the cry of pain that follows is NOT the monster's.

"Oooh, ouch," Briar notes, having finally shed her human size and caught up with you. "Yeah, those suckers have HARD heads. Comes from using them to batter their way through tons of sand."

This appears to be the last straw for Akua, because the next thing you know, the Ring's spatially-warped interior is filling with the blood-red light and oppressive energy of an unsealed vampire. The Lanmola actually draws back in surprise from the dark power suddenly surging from its opponent, mandibles chittering as if asking a question.
...that's going to happen a lot with this crowd, isn't it?
And then the centipede-like monster doubles over with a choked-off roar of pain as, in a flicker of movement, Akua rushes forward and slams a powerful blow into the armored section of its body sticking out of the sand. The force of the impact is such that the Lanmola's head almost hits the ground.

An instant later, Akua reappears in front of the sand-crawler, and punches it in the head again.

MUCH harder than before.

"...I guess that's one way of doing it," Briar says slowly, as the Lanmola's head shoots up into the air, before the weight of the rest of its body takes effect, arrests its trajectory, and sends it slamming down into the sand on the far side of its burrow.

The cloud of sand kicked up by the impact hasn't even had time to clear when Akua shoots through it and slams another power-blow into the giant monster, sending its head arching back the way it came.

What ensues reminds you of someone playing with a tetherball, or maybe a paddleball, as Akua keeps knocking the Lanmola back and forth too quickly for it to recover from the stars it must be seeing. It goes on for almost a full minute, but you're distracted partway through by the familiar sound of a little girl's disproportionately loud footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Briar," you hear Zelda complaining over the racket. "Why'd you fly off like- eh?"

Having climbed enough of the steps for her head to clear the floor of this lookout, your little sister takes in the small crowd, and freezes at the sight of Shadow Alex. One hand slowly rises, finger extended towards your not-evil twin in... accusation, maybe?

"...a-another Alex!?" Zelda cries. "When? Why!?"

Akua's game of "monster ball" comes to an end when the Lanmola's head finally gives up and shatters under the final blow.

Seeing that, you reflect that it's a good thing that Hyrulean monsters discorporate back into the dark energy that spawned them upon death. You cannot see how getting covered in bug-brains would have done anything to help the vampire girl's mood.

Akua has a moment to enjoy her victory before the nighttime desert is replaced by a torch-lit, many-pillared hall of carven stone like those where you faced Jermafencer and the Carrock. And, as with your first appearance in such a room, Akua is confronted by an armored figure that stands head and shoulders above any normal man. This one's gear is heavier than Jermafencer's was, a suit of full plate in a shade of red that recalls the hue of rust or blood, and he carries a spiked mace of such size that even he needs both hands to wield it.

By far the most distinctive element of this new creature's appearance is his head, which resembles that of a fierce horse.

Akua takes one look and recoils, exclaiming something that sounds like, "Mamian!?"

"Is that Mezu!?" Moka calls out with a note of shocked protest.

"What the hell!?" Akkiko adds.

The equine-headed giant bellows.

GUARDIAN OF THE NORTHERN DESERT: MAZURA

And then the battle begins.

Whatever the reason for her shock, Akua gets over it quickly, and manages to avoid being splattered across the nearest pillars by Mazura's opening swing. Seeing and most likely FEELING the power behind that sidelong strike, and clearly recognizing that her opponent will need a second or so to recover from such a strong attack, the vampiress moves in-

"Akua, wait-!" Akasha cries in warning.

-only to get smacked in the face as Mazura's gauntlet-covered left hand lets go of his weapon and swings back in the opposite direction, catching her by surprise.

The difference in their sizes and the force behind the blow sends the girl flying five feet through the air, and her landing results in a short skid for another three or four feet of distance. Akua recovers quickly, but almost immediately has to leap back and to one side, as Mazura's mace comes down in an overhead strike that smashes into the floor, generating a visible shockwave that spreads out in all directions.

The protective wards carved into that part of the floor FLARE in response to what surely would have been a stone-shattering impact.

Gained Club Training E+

For the next half-minute or so, Mazura keeps the pressure on Akua, displaying a level of prowess with his weapon that belies its bulk and seemingly crude usage. There are only so many ways that such a "simple" weapon can be wielded, and Mazura demonstrates them all, alternating broad, sweeping strikes with short, chopping blows and straight thrusts to the front and the sides.

Once again, you get the impression that Akua is not used to fighting opponents of this sort. Big, powerful brawlers, yes, that's almost a given where certain species of monsters are concerned, but someone who's got actual SKILL to back up their sheer physical stature? That's unusual.

At one point, when Akua has read enough of the horse-headed Guardian's movements to discern a pattern and tries to close in again, Mazura even performs what looks like a Spin Attack, albeit with a broader "trail" of glowing energy than a sword would generate.

You'd give a lot to be able to read his energies right then, but you're at least able to take notes on his stance, and how it compares to the one you've used on the handful of occasions you've tried that move yourself.

Gained Cleave E+++
Gained Spin Attack F++

In the end, however, Mazura's martial prowess has its limits. Maybe if he were using a different weapon, it might have worked out otherwise, but as strong and skilled as he is, that mace is still a heavy and relatively slow weapon, not to mention one with limited range. What advantage of reach his greater size gives him is matched by Akua's by-now well-demonstrated experience in dealing with bigger enemies, and she finally manages to get inside his guard and deliver a blow to the Guardian's armored body.

There is a sound almost like the ringing of a gong as vampiric strength meets Hylian steel plate. Mazura staggers back from the hit with a thunderous neigh of shock, but Akua is once again left nursing a sore hand.

"What are you outsiders MADE out of!?" she hisses.

Mazura's only reply is a horsey snort, and a baring of teeth that may be a grin.

After that, Akua focuses on striking Mazura's bare head - which requires some interesting acrobatics, given the height difference. If not for her strength and speed, you think she might not have managed it, or at least not without taking a few hits in exchange, but in the end, Akua stands triumphant over Mazura as well.

Her surroundings blur again, and she blinks as she finds herself back in the same kind of room. This time, instead of a looming animal-headed warrior, there is a more traditional sort of knight. Tall and broad of shoulder, yes, and armored in heavy plates of blue-tinted steel in the bargain, to be sure, but still within the bounds of mortal stature.

On the other hand, THIS knight is wearing a helmet, something Akua takes note of with a frustrated, "Aiya..."

The new warrior is also mounted on a horse decked out with full barding of the same sapphire steel - a horse that has no legs, nor any other substance that you can see beneath those metallic plates and the white cloth covering the flanks and hindquarters. Is it a ghost? A magical construct? You're honestly not sure, but if the horse's nature is a mystery, you have no trouble recognizing the rider for who - or rather, what - it is.

The mounted Ironknuckle raises the keen lance it holds in a one-handed salute to its opponent, and then lowers it for a charge.

THE BLUE KNIGHT: LEVOKNUCKLE

Gained Riding F++

"Ambrose," you hear Arthur Drake saying, "I'm going to need my horse."

"As will I," Altria chimes in.

Ambrose's reply is inaudible, which is probably for the best.
It is. It really is.
What follows is not only a demonstration of why heavy cavalry tended to dominate most battlefields until the invention of the crossbow - and later, the gun - but also offers a glimpse into how the knightly orders of Europe might have done battle against the monstrous and demonic forces that historically (or mythically, depending on your point of view) plagued the continent. It likewise gives you an idea of how dangerous the Knights of Hyrule must have been at their peak.

And that is Very Dangerous Indeed.
Hehehe.
Levoknuckle demonstrates the ability to use a Sword Beam variant on his LANCE, which results in the weapon, its holder, and the forward half of his steed being surrounded by a shimmering corona of crackling force as they bear down on Akua's position. Vampire or no, her only defense against something like that is to get out of its way, and unlike with the previous monsters that tried to charge her, this proves much easier said than done.

Part of the difficulty comes from the floating horse-thing, which goes from zero to zoom in the space of what you think would be about two strides, if it had proper legs.

Another issue that the knight doesn't have to keep his lance aimed straight ahead, but can adjust his grip and "steer" the weapon slightly.

Then, of course, there's the size of the snarling cloud of energy wrapped around the weapon.

And lastly, you don't think Akua's had much experience fighting MOUNTED opponents, either.

In fairness, neither do you.

With all those factors taken together, Akua mistimes her attempt to evade the Blue Knight's charge. She manages not to get spitted on his lance, but is caught almost head-on by the power that envelops it. There is a blue-tinted flash as the "Lance Beam" discharges, which sends Akua flying into one of the pillars with a force that would have broken a human's back.

As it is, the young vampire hacks up droplets of spittle, bile, and blood.

The crowd lets out a collective hiss of sympathy, punctuated by a few distressed cries from the younger or more sensitive souls in the audience.

Vampiric constitution turns what would have been a crippling or killing blow into something vaguely manageable, but Akua is clearly not used to taking hits like that. She's still picking herself up off the floor when Levoknuckle comes at her again, a silver-blue spark of power already gathered at the tip of his lance, and sending out electrical streamers as the technique builds towards completion.

"Watch out!" several voices cry, Moka's among them.

Almost as if hearing that warning, Akua turns her head...

You answer your sister's hastily-voiced questions calmly, succinctly, and in order.

Zelda blinks at your response, and then just says, "Oh."

You wait a moment, Big Brother Instinct telling you that your Little Sister isn't quite finished yet.

And lo and behold, she asks, "Are we going to adopt him?"

You and Shadow-You trade glances.

"Not as such," you tell her, "but he's going to be helping me out with some of my projects from now on, so you'll be seeing him around the house."

"So don't freak out," Shadow Alex says, before adding a tentative, "Okay?"

Zelda considers that for a moment, and then nods. "'kay."

Whether she genuinely heard the warning from her second sister or is just reacting on instinct and battle experience, Akua sees Levoknuckle's charge coming in time to do something about it.

And what she chooses to do is push herself away from the pillar, drop to the floor on all fours, and scuttle, spider-like, towards her incoming assailant.

It's not a decision you would or even could have made; the idea of walking on all fours the way Akua is makes some of your joints, particularly those in your hands, ache with expected pain. It doesn't appear to bother her at all, and moreover, it proves to have been a good choice. Levoknuckle is holding his lance on the right side of his body, and Akua got enough distance from the pillar to put herself on his left - and she makes a point of staying there, or as close to it as she can manage, thus keeping the bulk of the unseen horse between her and that glowing lance.

It still might not have mattered, if the Lance Beam had a little more time to charge up, but as it stands, instead of that sweeping corona of force that stretched from floor to the tips of Levoknuckle's horned helmet, the energy is still coalescing.

Akua manages to slip under the attack, and then the horse - which apparently really IS levitating, because if it were just invisible, all that weight would have pulverized the girl beneath, vampire or no - and then she's past her enemy entirely, and heading for the next pillar. As soon as she reaches her target, Akua starts climbing, small fingers and toes finding enough of a grip in the symbols carved into the stone for her inhuman strength to support her weight.

She also makes a point of putting the bulk of the pillar between her and Levoknuckle, which is a good call, since as soon as he realized he'd missed her, the Blue Knight slowed his mount and started to turn back around again. He's now moving at the equivalent of a walk, a fully-realized Lance Beam crackling about his weapon while his visor slowly turns from side to side, unseen eyes scanning the pillars and the buntings hanging from the ceiling for signs of his quarry.

You're not sure how Akua does it, but one of the hanging banners moves, prompting Levoknuckle to thrust the point of his lance at it, discharging the built-up power with an almost electric shriek. No sooner has that happened than Akua herself leaps off a pillar BEHIND the knight and his hovering steed, moving with such speed and silence that the first warning Levoknuckle gets is when she slams into him.

A fierce, frantic wrestling match ensues, and by the murmurs from the crowd, you're not the only one surprised by how even it is. Akua is a vampire, but while she's older than her half-sisters, she hasn't yet hit her full growth - and she's built rather small besides. Levoknuckle, meanwhile, has the proportions of a mortal knight, but like his opponent, is something far stronger than mere size would suggest.

Then too, there's the horse to consider. It may be a magical construct, but it ACTS like a living warhorse would if an unknown party suddenly leapt on its back in the middle of the battlefield, first rearing up on its hindquarters in surprise, and then leaning forward and "kicking" its haunches into the air to try and dislodge the unwanted passenger.

The only thing missing is a sudden whinny of protest, but the horse has been entirely silent since its appearance, and that doesn't change now.

This third-party contribution to the fight visibly inconveniences both riders, but Akua definitely comes off the worse for it; Levoknuckle, at least, has stirrups and the training for just this sort of situation, whereas the vampire has to split her efforts between holding on and actually fighting the Blue Knight. Ultimately, what could have been a fight-ending move against a merely human opponent instead results in Akua managing to half-shove, half-drag her enemy from his steed.

The resulting crash of metal upon stone is amazingly loud, and you don't blame the horse when it runs off as if in fright, or else just giving its master room to continue the fight.

Which, rolling with the impact and springing to his feet, sword and shield all but leaping into his hands, Levoknuckle does. Energy swirls around his weapon as Akua recovers and leaps for him, shield moving to intercept-

"That's-!" Akasha cries in genuine shock.
What in the Underworld!?
-and then, hand buzzing with some kind of youki-manipulation technique you don't recognize, Akua strikes right through the shield and the armor beneath it, striking a direct hit at the animating force that lies within an Ironknuckle's metallic body.
Nayru, what the HELL was that just now?
Levoknuckle jerks violently at the attack, and no wonder. Not only does it pierce through defenses that would have turned even the Master Sword - at least for a few blows - it SHREDS the metal, producing a sound akin to that high-pitched hum you've heard your Blessed Sword make when it's over-stressed by your Power. This is worse, though, a shriek of torment next to a whimper of discomfort.
It looked like some sort of space-warping attack...
Akua grins.

Right up until Levoknuckle brings his sword down, hitting her point-blank with a Sword Beam. Caught by the full force of the technique, the girl is blown away, her uncannily deadly hand wrenched out of the vicious rent in her opponent's shield and shield-arm.

It doesn't end there. Levoknuckle swings at Akua while she's in mid-air, once, twice, three times - and each time, another projectile of flashing energy flies from his blade, almost like a flurry of flung knives.

And his blade is still glowing with the telltale halo of an active Sword Beam.

"We can do that!?" you and Shadow Alex exclaim in unison.

Despite taking one Sword Beam head-on and getting slashed by the first of the follow-up strikes while still sailing backwards, Akua manages to recover; the arc of her brief, impromptu flight brings her low enough after the first of those flying "blades" hits her that she's able to reach down and push off hard, launching herself straight up. This bleeds away most of her lateral momentum and helps her to dodge the two remaining projectiles, and afterwards - turning a wheel in mid-air - Akua lands on her feet.

Her face is a bruised and bleeding mess, but it's a healing mess, pulling itself together even as you watch.

And she's grinning, fangs bared in an expression of pure martial joy that would make it clear to anyone with eyes that she is unquestionably a vampire.

With a formal bow to Levoknuckle, Akua raises her right arm across her chest, fingers held flat like a sword-blade as her youki begins to visibly wind around them again. And then she pauses, waiting.

The Blue Knight takes the unspoken cue and discards his sundered shield, clearly useless against this particular foe, holds his damaged arm firmly against his side, and brandishes his shining sword in a salute.

Then the two of them charge, Akua's hand flashing forward and Levoknuckle's empowered sword coming down.

As the attacks collide in a dazzling flash, there is another scream of tortured steel - but this one is followed by a feminine cry of pain.

When everyone has finished blinking away the glare, they find both warriors on the floor. Levoknuckle was apparently knocked backwards by whatever just happened, and is pushing himself up to a seated position. He holds up his sword and stares at it, his dismay at the broken-off half-length of the blade before his gaze obvious even through the unmoving metal of his helm.

Akua, meanwhile, is on her knees, hunched over with her right hand cradled to her chest, a flow of words in a dialect you don't recognize hissing through her teeth, but which your translation spells make vividly clear to the entire audience.

Gained Chinese F

"Language, young lady!" Issa barks.

"Quiet, Issa," Gyokuro scolds her husband. "The girl has good cause."

"Even more than you'd think," Akasha agrees sympathetically. "That move- oh, that does not look good."

That may be an understatement. Akua has moved her hand away from her body to inspect the damage, and the results are...
Oh, ouch.
Well, you've got an arena full of monsters, ghosts, and professional fighters, and quite a few of them are wincing, making sounds of awe and disgust, or covering their eyes - or, as in Zelda's case, getting their eyes covered by the nearest older relative(s).
I don't care what species she is. That? Has got to hurt.
Akua's right hand is a MESS. Most of the skin has been ripped off clear up to her elbow, and chunks of exposed flesh are straight-up gone, particularly around the fingers. Seriously, you can see bone, and your stomach is NOT thanking you for this-

Gained Iron Stomach E+

-but it's okay, you're not going to lose it, that would be a terrible waste of a good lunch.

Just as worrying as the extent of the damage is the fact that it's not healing as fast as you know it should. It IS healing, but instead of a steady regeneration of tissues that looks like flowing water, this is... sluggish, more oozing than flowing. Chunks of gore inch forward and then stop, wounds partially close before pulling apart to almost the same extent as before, and then repeat.

What the hell WAS that technique she was using, that it has THIS kind of effect on a misfire?
The better question is, will she have the good sense to yield after this?
The sight of the damage visibly shocks Akua - chalk up ANOTHER experience she's clearly unfamiliar with - and for a moment, as she closes her eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath, you think she's going to yield.

Instead, Akua forces herself to her feet, lowers her left hand to her side, and reactivates that dangerous sword-like technique.
Well, then. We can't say she doesn't have guts.
"Oh, you stubborn girl," Akasha sighs.
Maybe not a lot of brains, but definitely guts.
Levoknuckle sees the attack coming, but he makes no effort to dodge or parry it. Maybe he's accepted defeat, or perhaps his knightly spirit simply refuses to offer violence to a wounded child; whatever the case, he raises his broken blade in a final salute.

Then Akua rips his head off.

What's left of the elite Ironknuckle's helmet falls to the floor with a clatter, as the empty shell of his body collapses.

Akua regards it blankly, her previous smile having vanished.

Then the Ring blurs again, and she is deposited in a rough-walled cavern lit by the dull red glow of lava. The molten rock forms a ring around the fairly broad central platform, and there are perhaps a dozen places where the stone has been melted through, forming holes wide enough for a grown man to fall into - for all of a foot or two, before he hit the lava bubbling away at the bottom.

"Uh-oh," Briar mutters. "I think she just convinced the Goddesses to crank up the challenge."

Before you can speak to that, something within the Ring with Akua ROARS, sending her staggering as the entire island of stone trembles.

And then it emerges from the center of the island, rising up from the lava beneath as if it were nothing more than hot water - a serpentine dragon, scarlet of scale and black of horn, with two limbs ending in hand-like claws, a dark bony growth on its head resembling a fierce horned mask, and a great mane trailing out from the back of its armored head, orange-yellow hairs glowing like fire itself.

Though not so massive as the Gleeok you faced earlier, this dragon's slender body is nearly as long, and still wide enough that it could snap down and swallow a human or vampire-sized target with little trouble. Though wingless, the beast nonetheless flies with a superior grace, its long form coiling over and around itself as it soars through the air, surrounded by shimmer like a heat mirage that betrays an incredible internal temperature.

At the peak of its ascension, the dragon breathes a great plume of fire towards the ceiling, sending embers and ash raining down on the platform below.

And then it lowers its head to face Akua directly, eyes burning with power.

SUBTERRANEAN LAVA DRAGON: VOLVAGIA

A hush falls over the arena, as everyone waits to see what the girl does.

And so it is that everyone quite clearly hears it when, after looking from the dragon above her to her still-healing arm, Akua sighs and bows her head.

"Haaaa... as much as I might like to fight a dragon under better circumstances, I think I'm done."
Good call.
The subsequent breath of relief comes from more than one party.
Oh, come on. It was just getting good!
A moment later, the dragon and its volcanic chamber have disappeared, and Akua is standing over the Triforce emblem at the center of the sand-filled ring. She immediately looks down at her arm, and heaves a visible sigh of relief upon finding it restored to the condition it was in before the Trials began.

"Akua!"

"Gah!"

That's all the time she has before Moka hits her like a missile.

Akasha, incidentally, is right behind her daughter, and the subsequent maternal fussing and scolding leaves the eldest of the Shuzen girls at least as stunned as being half-tackled by one of her siblings.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies," you call down, "but I need to confirm: who's going next? And how many Trials do they want to face?"

Kahlua and Altria trade glances and gesture towards the center of the Ring, each one offering for the other to precede her, though it seems to be more for form's sake than anything else.

"Quick question for you, Alex," Sokka shoots back, over the murmur of the crowd. "Is that dragon still in there?"

The gesturing between the two blondes pauses for an instant, and when it resumes, it's taken on a new intensity and completely changed intention. Instead of each girl trying to politely yield to the other, they're now fighting to be first into the Trials.

You consider how to answer Sokka.

You have the best sister, and you're tempted to give her a hug just because of that.

Then you have an even better idea.

"You know, Zelda," you say leadingly. "I think Shadow Alex looks a little sad about not being adopted."

Zelda gasps and turns her head back to your doppelganger.

He, in turn, gives you a flat look that silently asks what the heck you're doing - right before his eyes go wide as realization strikes.

Too late, Other Me!

"I think he could use a hug, don't you?" you offer.

"Un!" Zelda agrees, before surging forward to do exactly that.

Shadow Alex waves his hands. "W-wait, no, I-"

*HUG*

Having failed to halt or redirect the incoming hug, Shadow Alex looks down at the little sister doing her best to wrap her arms all the way around him and give him a great big hug.

He sighs, and hugs her back - while shooting a glare that promises vengeance over her head at you.

"Technically, Sokka," you call down in reply, "ALL the monsters that Akua and I faced are still in there."
So what do we give the girl?
The arena goes quiet for a moment, and more than one member of the audience looks up at you with wide eyes.
She didn't pass the full set of Trials, so a Heart Container is out.
Not wanting to scare off your less fight-happy guests from giving the Trials a go, you take the opportunity to remind everyone how the challenges scale in response to a fighter's preparations and demonstrated abilities.
But clearing six Trials and knowing when to bow out isn't too shabby, either, so she deserves something.
While you're speaking, the rest of the Shuzen family catches up with Akasha and Moka, and are alternately congratulating Akua on her performance, commiserating with her about getting knocked out after six Trials, or being parentally concerned. Akua appears uncomfortable with all the attention, though not ungrateful, and there's open relief in her expression when Elder Terok walks over to speak with her.
Giving her Rupees or Hyrulean reagents doesn't feel appropriate, though...
After a moment of murmured conversation which you can't make out from this distance, the Goron priest raises his empty hand.
I think I might have something.
Golden energy coalesces in the air, and an object descends gracefully to Akua's hands.
Oh, that's perfect.
It's not a Heart Container.

In point of fact, you're honestly not sure what the fuzzy purple-black oval-shaped thing is, until it unfolds its wings, revealing a bat-like face that looks up at Akua with enormous golden eyes, and squeaks once.

Akua stares at the Baby Keese like someone just handed her the most adorable puppy or kitten in the world.

"Awww," her sisters chorus.
Heh. Better get some more of those ready, Nayru.
Then, as one, the three of them turn to the glowing Triforce symbol with positively predatory eyes.
Way ahead of you there, sister.
Akua, meanwhile, carefully nestles her new pet against her chest with one hand, while raising the other to delicately stroke its head.

The little monster closes its eyes and relishes the attention. You can almost hear it purring, or crooning, or whatever sound it is that bats make when they're happy and content.

"It gives out baby animals!?" Zelda exclaims.

You meet Shadow Alex's glare with one of your own, which is followed by a brief downwards glance at the redheaded limpet wrapped halfway around his midsection, and then a resumption of the glare.

The manifestation of your not-entirely-dark side winces at the unspoken reprimand, and nods his acknowledgement.

But then - using the hand not currently patting Zelda on the back - he indicates himself with a thumb, points his index and middle fingers at his eyes, and makes a final, stabbing motion at you with the former.

You smirk, and curl the fingers of one hand at him, inviting him to try his best.

You make your stance clear: if Zelda wants a new pet, she needs to clear it with your parents first.

"Awww," Zelda pouts.

Even in the face of a saddened little sister, your determination does not waver.

At least, not until you catch a cunning gleam in Zelda's eyes.

Realizing that you left a loophole, you quickly add that if she wants to challenge the Ring of Trials, she has to get permission for THAT, too. Just being allowed to get a new pet won't cover it.

The pout ratchets up to a sulk. "You never let me have any fun," Zelda accuses.

While you've been dealing with Zelda, Altria and Kahlua have reached an agreement. You're not sure what mechanism they used to do it, but from the way the Shuzens are clearing out of the Ring proper en masse, and Altria gearing up with assistance from her mother and Ambrose, it's clear that your blonde English friend will be going first.

Your recent recounting of the manner in which the Ring and the Goddesses select Trials has not dissuaded Altria from bringing her sword along, nor from having Ambrose summon up her horse. The animal that appears is not the filly Llamrei - who, much like your own Khamsin, is still too young to be ridden safely, much less taken into battle - but an adult gelding you don't recognize.

Interestingly, Altria doesn't mount the horse.
What's this?
Instead, she takes the reins and leads it to the center of the Ring.
Not going to ride the horse until you need it, huh? Clever girl.
You honestly aren't sure if that's "legal" or not, but none of the priests raise a fuss about it, so it's probably okay.

As Altria approaches the glowing Triforce emblem, a mischievous impulse hits you.

She's a young blonde swordswoman with the favor of the fairies, about to run a gauntlet of Hyrule's worst. She even has a horse.

She really ought to be wearing green.

With her last-ditch effort to exploit your vulnerability to her cuteness having failed utterly, Zelda huffs, folds her arms, and turns her back to you.

Gained Commanding King E

Shadow Alex, you note, is visibly uncomfortable with this, and opens his mouth as if to speak.

You wave one hand back and forth quickly, trying to cut him off before he can say something and ruin your efforts.

He frowns at you and nods at Zelda, his expression torn and inquisitive.

You frown right back, unwavering in the face of your own weakness to little sisterly antics.

You're pretty sure that your parents would shoot down a request to let Zelda enter the Ring of Trials, no matter who made it, but if Zelda was really serious about wanting a new pet - and not simply asking because Akua just got one - she could and should still ask. It would probably still come to nothing, but it would at least show that she was serious about the idea, which would give you a reason to support her on it.

You were about Zelda's current age when you first got Moblin, after all, and even if your parents stuck to their guns about not letting her face the Trials - which honestly, you can't say you'd blame them for - Zelda's birthday is coming up in a few months.

That said, the fact that your sister gave up on asking so quickly suggests that this is more of a fleeting whim than a dedicated interest, in which case, why should you agree to back it? More to the point, why should you go against your sense of filial respect and duty and help Zelda do it on the sly?

The answer is, you shouldn't. It's important for Zelda to understand that she can't get things, especially not significant things like pets, just for the asking.

Shadow Alex appears to read this in your posture and expression, and sighs, nodding his agreement.

Then he signs something at you, pointing at Zelda, Akua's new pet, and then between the two of you before pointing down at your parents and making a circling motion that takes in the entire Ring and the crowd within, before indicating Zelda again.

Translated, he's wondering about actually talking to folks about getting Zelda a pet for her birthday.

The impulse to conduct a Heroic-themed prank on Altria and the monsters within the Ring of Trials is strong, but even as you start to gather mana, you vaguely recall a scene from Kahlua's birthday party, where Altria reacted... less than positively... to a friendly offer from you to transform her formal suit into a dress.

And how that reaction, like others you've seen from Altria, was because of something Ambrose did.

...

You close your half-opened hand, and let your magic settle.

Altria and her horse step into the center of the Ring, and fade as the magic takes effect.

The location they are transported to is a vast, grassy plain, under a clear midday sky. The sun is directly overhead, making it difficult to tell which direction is which, and the plain is wide enough that any "neighboring" geographical features are little more than smudges on the horizon. Still, you think that low, dark smudge off to Altria's right is a forest, and the land in the exact opposite direction seems to get higher and rockier. Beyond that, there are some low heaps of stone dotting the grassland, walls worn down by years of exposure to the point where their original purpose is no longer apparent.

Altria pats her horse on the nose, tells it to stay put, and begins walking towards the nearest of those rockpiles. Behind her, the animal whickers once and lowers its head to the grass, giving it an experimental sniff - only to suddenly raise its head and look ahead sharply, making a sound of warning.

Stopping in her tracks, Altria turns towards whatever spooked the horse, hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword.

From out of the grass emerges a grunting, oinking mass, a boar that handily outmasses even the biggest of the island breed that your guests brought back from their hunt. Size alone might not be enough to make it a monster - you are aware that wild boars can get very big - but the dull red glow of its eyes does suggest a supernatural influence.

"Whoa," Sokka breathes. "That's a LOT of bacon."

And then there's the pair of green-skinned, red-eyed goblinoids riding on its back. Both are clad in rough clothes and armor that look like they've been salvaged from half a dozen different previous owners, but still remain serviceable. Both have heavy clubs strapped to their hips and quivers on their backs, but the one riding in front is holding a pair of reins that run to the boar's tusked maw, while its partner holds a bow.

Catching sight of Altria, the two little monsters begin jabbering excitedly. The one riding in the rear reaches for an arrow, while its partner flicks the reins and utters a sound of command.

The big pig grunts, and takes a step forward.

DEMONIC GOBLIN RAIDERS: BULBLIN BULLBO RIDERS

Altria considers the challenge for a moment, but instead of moving towards her horse, she steps away, drawing her sword.

The Bullbo's attention seems to be drawn by the movement, or perhaps the bright gleam of bared steel; either way, its head tracks Altria's movements, while dismissing the blustering horse. Its initial step forward becomes two, then three, and then as momentum builds up, the walk accelerates to a slow run - and then faster.

There isn't enough room between it and its target for the Bullbo to really build up speed, but Altria lets it use up most of that, keeping her attention split between the boar and its armed passenger, and the beast has gotten just a head's length shy of goring range when things happen very quickly.

Altria dodges to the right, easily clearing the reach of the Bullbo's tusks, and as she moves, the Bulblin archer takes the shot he was holding for the whole short charge - only for Altria's blade to come up and cut the arrow from the air. This is followed by the blonde knight-in-training charging back in, straight at the Bullbo's flank, and though its driver anticipated this and is hauling on the reigns to try and turn his mount, even the modest speed the big pig had built up keeps it moving forward.

Gained Archery E+
Gained Weapon Defense C++

Altria doesn't strike at the thick, leathery flank of the huge animal, or at its driver; instead, she brings her blade up at the passenger, who recoils with a shriek of shock.

The strike doesn't injure the goblin, but it does catch its bow, and the shoddy woodworking doesn't stand up to good steel guided by a pair of strong arms.

Gained Sunder F++

The Bulblin archer screams in anger as the Bullbo carries him off, throws his ruined bow away, and reaches for the one tucked into his partner's quiver, which needs to be strung before it can be fired.

That, plus the distance the Bullbo needs to turn its bulk all the way around, gives Altria more than enough time to get into the saddle of her own mount, and when the Bullbo charges again, bellowing, knight and horse reply in kind, coming straight at the approaching wall of angry pork. The two Bulblins squeal in shock at the seemingly-imminent collision, and as the archer frantically fumbles to string his replacement bow, the driver hauls on the reins, trying to slow their mount - but the Bullbo refuses to back down from the challenge presented to it, and ducks its head in preparation to smash horse and rider aside.

At the last possible moment, in a display of training and teamwork that the goblins and their porcine mount utterly fail to anticipate or match, Altria's steed dances to the left, and the girl brings her blade around - one-handed, but with the momentum of her horse's charge behind it.

*WHAM*

The driver takes the full force of the hit, and while he isn't cut in half or anything, he IS blown backwards, screaming, into his counterpart - who shrieks in shock himself as he loses his seat.

Gained Riding F+++

You think you see the Bullbo blink in surprise as both of its riders are swept off its back.

The fight doesn't last much longer after that. Staggered by the blow that unseated it, the Bulblin driver lies sprawled on the grass, groaning and twitching, until Altria and her horse trample it into the turf. The archer lost his bowstring in the fall, and gives up on the bow in favor of drawing his club, but light infantry against cavalry is almost a foregone conclusion.

The Bullbo is honestly more of a challenge for Altria, and that's mostly because of its sheer bulk and the fact that she refrains from calling on her strength-enhancing mana technique.

As the beast's body bursts into shadow-

"NOOOO!" Sokka cries in despair. "THE BACON!"

-the scenery changes. Altria and her horse are still in the field, but the sun has been replaced by a near-full moon. The once-blue sky is black, save where stars glitter - more than you see in Sunnydale, you absently note - and the grass you know to be green has taken on an eerie, washed-out hue under the moon's pale light. The ruined stone walls, quite harmless by daylight, are now alternately bone-white and draped in shadow, giving them a vague resemblance to decayed corpses - or perhaps an undead horror, laying in wait...

No sooner have you entertained that thought than a dirt-choked bony hand claws its way free of the soil, clutching at the moon above. It's followed by another, which you see can't belong to the same corpse - and then another hand, and then two more, and then half a dozen, and now the skulls are rising from the earth, pinpoints of wan yellow light glittering in the depths of their dirt- and worm-stuffed sockets, as loose jaws chatter excitedly.

Then the rising tide of Stalchildren pause, as a well-aimed strike from Altria takes three of their heads off in one blow. The other seven skeletal figures look on with something that might he shock or embarrassment as their kin scramble to catch their decaptitated skulls, putting on a brief impromptu juggling exhibition of such exaggerated silliness that it has Altria and even her HORSE pausing to give them disbelieving looks.

Isshin starts cackling like a madman.

He doesn't stop when the two fighters stomp those three skeletons back into their unquiet graves, and wheel about to face the remainder of the swarm.

"This doesn't seem like much of a challenge," Tatsuki observes past the laughter, as Altria brings her blade down on one Stalchild's shoulder, cleaving through its moldering bones, straight through the ribcage and spine, and out the far lower side with less effort than it really should have taken.

Behind her, two of the little monsters fairly explode into shattered shards of bone as the horse kicks back with one hind hoof.

Tatsuki's right; the Stalchildren aren't a challenge.

But not for the reason she thinks.

As the last of the stumpy skeletons clatters into a motionless heap and begins to disintegrate, Altria looks around, her watchful demeanor and slightly disappointed expression indicating that she shares Tatsuki's opinion, but also suspects that there's more to come.

And she's right.

The ground shakes violently as a much larger pair of hands force their way to the surface, one with a shield and the rotting remnants of armor strapped to it, the other clutching a chipped and rusty sword that is nonetheless intact enough - and LARGE enough - to pose a considerable threat. Altria and her horse back off slightly as the rest of this new undead monster emerges, lifeless grey dirt and motionless insect corpses falling away to reveal a dark-eyed skull, a partial breastplate, and the thicker, sturdier, and just plain BIGGER bones that lie underneath.

Looming taller than either of its living opponents, the big skeleton stands still for a moment, lightless, empty eyes seeming to stare blankly at the moon. Then wisps of pale blue flame spark to unholy un-life within the sockets, and with a great creaking, clattering, and unnatural twitching of ancient joints, the monster looks down at Altria.

Its jaw drops, ungodly wide, as it howls a challenge.

TERROR OF THE MOONLIT FIELD: STALFOS

"I stand corrected," Tatsuki says.

Isshin is likewise no longer laughing.

If Zelda shows interest in this topic again in the very near future - say, before the Trials are over, or by the day's end at the latest - you might change your mind, but for the time being, you decide not to say anything more on the matter of pets.

Initially put off-balance by the shaking of the soil as the Stalfos clawed its way free of its grave, and then pushed further back by the momentary surge of the monster's unholy aura as it fully awoke, Altria and her horse now stand (or sit) at the ready, facing the challenge with firm-faced resolve, a readied sword, and the aggressive stamping of one hoof.

Then horse and rider wheel about and trot away from the Stalfos.

The big skeleton roars again and moves to pursue, but while it has a long stride and is disturbingly quick for a being with no flesh on its bones - although upon reflection, the lack of mass is probably a contributing factor - it quickly falls behind the pace set by a trained warhorse.

Altria checks over her shoulder a few times, and once she's satisfied by the distance between her and her enemy, she steers her horse back around, presses her heels into its flanks, and yells a command.

"Charge!"

The horse whinnies its reply and begins to accelerate towards the over-sized skeletal warrior.

The Stalfos, in turn, assumes a defensive posture, hunched forward with its dirty but surprisingly intact circular shield raised before it, minimizing the amount of exposed bone on all sides. Yellow eyes peer over the upper rim, while the notched blade is held at the ready to the right. The undead warrior shuffles to one side, putting itself on the opposite side of the horse from Altria's sword, and when the girl steers her mount to bring their target back in-line with her blade, the Stalfos crab-walks to its right again, prompting another course-correction.

And then, just before Altria gets into striking range, the walking heap of bones makes its move. It does not try to maneuver to the right again, nor does it suddenly spring to the left; instead, in defiance of gravity, the Stalfos leaps UP and forward, shield sweeping out to its left to catch and deflect Altria's blade, while its own sword comes up behind.

Gained Shield Training D

You see Altria's eyes widen in surprise at the unexpected agility, and then the Stalfos is too close, covering too much of the mystical "camera" for you to see exactly what happens-

*CLANG*

-but a moment later, the half-armored skeleton goes tumbling back to the ground, while Altria's horse thunders on, its rider-

-bent over the saddle, low against the animal's neck.

Is she-!?

Before you or anyone else has a chance to seriously panic, Altria sits up straight, revealing that she was uninjured by that exchange, if not entirely unshaken by it.

From the look of things, while the Stalfos succeeded in diverting Altria's sword with its shield, its own attack missed her in turn, due entirely to the girl making herself as small a target as possible.

It would seem that being short has its advantages.

The Stalfos, meanwhile, lands easily on the soft soil, spinning about on one fleshless heel to follow its quarry with its eyes. Altria glances over her shoulder once, lets out a breath, and then steers her horse around and rides back towards the enemy once again, building speed for another charge.

With the surprise advantage of its unnatural agility now spent, the Stalfos doesn't fare so well in this pass. Altria has its measure, now, and when the looming skeleton tries to leap at her, she kicks her horse in the flanks again and hisses an order you don't catch over the beat of the hooves.

But you have no trouble catching the response, as between one stride and the next, the horse LEAPS into the air, catching the Stalfos in the middle of its own jump.

The skeleton is tall and broad of shoulder, but in the end, it's just so much bone and half-rotted metal; a fully-grown living horse, outfitted for the battlefield and with a rider on its back - however tiny she might be - has far more mass. Mass, moreover, that was moving at considerable speed.

The Stalfos's shield smacks into the horse's armored flank and stops as surely as if it had hit an iron wall.

Even as its glowing yellow eyes stare in shock, Altria's sword comes around and smashes into the skull, pommel-first - and then, as the skeleton is dragged back down to earth by the sheer mass and momentum, Altria hammers it in the head a second time.

She doesn't quite have time to get off a third crushing blow before her horse's hooves and the Stalfos's bony heels hit the soil. The latter catch on something almost instantly, and with its balance shot and no proper support, the Stalfos is pulled under the bulk of the horse and trampled.

You hear bones splinter under those steel-shod hooves, and when the Stalfos drags itself upright a moment later, it's no longer intact. There's a large hole in the crown of the skull, ringed with cracks, several ribs have snapped at varying lengths, and its shield-arm isn't hanging properly from the shoulder.

Despite the damage, the undead warrior raises its sword, ready to continue the fight. It takes one step towards Altria-

*SNAP*

-and then staggers, as its left leg fractures at the... shin, you think... leaving its foot behind.
Bad luck, there, Bones.
The fight ends not too long after that. Unable to shield or dodge, and with its striking power compromised by the weakening of its stance, the Stalfos can do little more than lash out with awkward blows that threaten to topple it where it stands, or parry strikes that threaten to have the same result. It endures two more passes, the later of which ends with it being trampled underhoof by the horse again.

Gained Riding E

This time, the skeleton warrior does not rise, what's left of its body coming apart at the joints to lie in a heap on the grass. The last to give out is the half-broken jaw, which hangs limp as if in stunned shock, before the yellow light in the skull's sockets goes out, and the entire bone-pile goes up in motes of darkness.

The terrain shifts again, and Altria and her horse find themselves in a room of stone, similar to and yet distinctly different from the pillared chambers where you and Akua fought several bosses. For one thing, there's no pillars, just open space from wall to wall. Nor are there bright banners hanging from the ceiling, bearing the Royal Crest and other heraldry of the kingdom. The walls, floor, and ceiling are not grey, but a dark green that gives off an unsettling sense of immense weight that could come loose at any moment. Arcane wards are present, scrawled over all six surfaces, but they're different from the ones you saw in Jermafencer's chamber, or those of his fellow Guardians, somehow darker and more dangerous.

The presence of the inverted Triforce emblems has something to do with that.

You don't spend much time looking at those unsettlingly-familiar characters, because the monster lurking at the far end of the room takes up your attention.

A green, scale-armored body, ten feet long and nearly as tall at the shoulder, heavily armed with four clawed limbs and a thick, lazily-whipping tail that increases its length by another five or six feet.

Two oddly small-looking wings, flapping idly without so much as budging the massive beast.

And at the front, looking down at Altria and her horse with the sort of interest cats and raptors alike reserve for mice and other small, helpless mammals they're considering playing with, a reptilian head at the end of a neck only a foot or two shorter than the tail, crowned by a single, spiraling horn.

With a body laid out not unlike a horse, the monster is not only smaller than the Gleeok you faced, but less massive than a young Gleeok of similar height and length would be, as its body does not spread out so far to the sides - yet despite all of that, it is, unquestionably, another dragon.

UNDERWORLD DRAGON: AQUAMENTUS

Altria takes one look at the monster, grins, and pumps her sword-bearing fist into the air with a triumphant cry of, "Yes!"
...well, THAT'S a new reaction.
There is laughter from the audience. Some of it is a little nervous - that mostly comes from the human, civilian seats - but the rest is genuinely amused.

Then, to near-universal sounds of astonishment, Altria puts her sword away.
And so is THAT.
Reaching for the throat of her shirt, Altria fishes out a small pendant you hadn't realized she was wearing, and closes her hands over it for a moment. There is a flash of light, and suddenly, your friend is wearing armor. It's not a suit of full plate or even half-plate, more a breastplate, helmet, gauntlets, and greaves, with chain underneath, and a surcoat of rich blue.

The armored Altria then reaches back to open a saddlebag large enough for an adult to get a hand into, and from it, draws forth a spear-like weapon longer than she is tall, which she sets in her right arm and aims towards the dragon.
This, on the other hand, is familiar.
Aquamentus snorts flame, looking honestly amused by all of this, and lowers its head as it gets into a ready stance, claws scraping at the dark green stone floor. The action is mirrored by Altria and her horse, the rider leaning forward slightly in her saddle while the mount claps one hoof at the stone.

Then, with three cries of challenge - those coming from the smaller throats somehow NOT being drowned out by the largest and supposedly loudest - both sides charge.

Horn crosses lance, and-

*WHAM*

*CRACK*

-the latter goes skittering down the dragon's scaly hide, before hitting something more solid, penetrating slightly before suddenly snapping into two unequal lengths and a spray of splinters. Despite that surprise and the violent jarring of the actual strike, Altria retains the presence of mind to drop the broken weapon and reach for her sword.

Gained Spear Training E+

Aquamentus's horn, meanwhile, misses Altria and her horse altogether, illustrating the difficulties of using a weapon that's not only mounted on top of your head, but which can only hit something that's directly ahead of you, in what's functionally a blind spot.

*SMACK*

The dragon's TAIL, on the other hand, proves much more effective, swinging around to catch horse and rider alike in a sidelong slap that sends the horse staggering, and almost knocks Altria from her saddle.

"Almost" is not "actually," however, and the young knight recovers, finishes drawing her sword, and brings it up, over, and down at her enemy's flank with another martial cry.

The dragon responds by spitting a globe of fire, which Altria's horse dances to one side to avoid, saving both of them from the hit but ruining its master's strike.

As Altria works to regain control of her wide-eyed mount, Aquamentus reaches up awkwardly with one claw, trying to dislodge the half-length lance jammed into its left shoulder. Its claws are not well-suited to such a task, however, and can't get a proper grip, a fact which seems to aggravate the monster.

Glaring at Altria, it hisses, "First blood to you, whelp."

Altria shakes her head. "It only matters if it's also last blood."

At that, the dragon laughs. "Indeed!"

And then the beast lunges at her, fangs first.

They snap shut on empty air as Altria's horse steps lightly to the side, this time positioning her ideally for a strike at the head - which she delivers, slashing a thin but ragged furrow across the lighter scales of the dragon's snout.

That's followed almost immediately by a sound like nails on a blackboard, only worse, as the dragon's right foreleg comes up to claw at the horse's barding. That lasts all of a second or so before Altria strikes again-

-smashing the offending limb away with such force that it hits the stone floor and rebounds. Aquamentus roars in shock and staggers backwards, but so does the horse, clearly shaken by the attack. Perhaps because of that, Altria quickly dismounts and gives her steed a quick slap on the flank, which has it putting as much distance between itself and the dragon as the dimensions of the room will allow.

Aquamentus eyes the horse as it withdraws, then turns its full attention to the girl in silvery steel and blue as she approaches him, sword drawn.

"No confidence in your animal?" it taunts.

"No need to risk him," Altria rebuts with a taunting note.

The dragon snarls at that, and once again spits fire.

Altria ducks the projectile, dodges the claw that lashes out at her behind it, and delivers a two-handed blow to the limb in question.

Aquamentus howls, this time in real pain, as its blood is shed once more. Instead of withdrawing or striking at range again, the dragon surges forward, as if trying to crush its much smaller opponent with its sheer bulk.

What follows is uncanny. Aquamentus lashes out with tooth and claw and tail, spitting orbs of fire and gouts of flame at random intervals, and generally turns the entire area around it into a killing field - and yet despite the sheer number of deadly lengths to track and the fact that she's wearing a helmet that restricts her vision, Altria almost literally walks through the assault, without so much as a scratch.
Do either of you know how she's doing that?
It's as if she knows in advance what Aquamentus is going to do.
I... I don't THINK it's precognition, but...
You've fought Altria before, and watched her fight others. You've seen her read moves, anticipate tactics, and react with blinding speed, but this? This is something else again.
Nah, nothing like that.
"How. Are. You. DOING. THAT?" Aquamentus growls in frustration.
Her Once and Future Majesty is just using her instincts, that's all.
Altria's response is a thrust at the dragon's flank, which punctures the scales and thick hide beneath.
Even the ones she didn't really know she had.
That's the last straw for Aquamentus. Roaring in rage, the dragon rears up to its full height, chest swelling and glowing red as it breathes deeply. The fire-blast it unleashes after this is wider and longer than anything which has come before, almost akin to one of Gleeok's.
After all, there's nothing better for fighting a dragon than another dragon.
Altria vanishes before the fire touches her, and reappears standing before the dragon, under the arc of the fire-blast and surrounded by the glow of active mana.
Unless it's my boy Link, of course.
"HRRRR-AAAAHHHH!"
Although this girl DOES kind of cover both angles... hmmm...
With a roar that almost sounds like it belongs to another dragon, Altria charges forward, sword held in both hands and with its point leading. While her blade isn't truly optimized for thrusting, it still has a sharpened tip, and magically-enhanced strength behind it it; it hits the scales, punches through, and keeps going until it's buried almost up to the hilt.
Don't even think about it, Farore. The fairies have dibs.
The dragon howls and staggers backwards from the blow, and when Altria drags her sword free, blood is not the only substance to spray from the wound. To the shock of many in the audience, FIRE spews from the hole in the dragon's chest, like some kind of organic volcanic vent.
I could take 'em.
"That is gross and yet awesome," Dave observes, sounding more than a little queasy.

"What did she HIT?" Tatsuki demands.

You're not sure of that yourself, but it was definitely something important - a lung, maybe, or some comparable channel for the dragon's weaponized breath, as opposed to normal respiration - which raises the question of how Altria knew it was even there TO hit. You'd wager all the money you have, in every currency, that she'd never even HEARD of Aquamentus before this Trial, so how did she know it had a vulnerability there?

...actually, looking at Altria as she stares at the bleeding, burning wound with a shock that's clear even through her helmet, you consider another question: DID she even know? And if not, what the heck just happened?

You put your speculations on hold as Aquamentus, wounded but far from dead or dying, descends on Altria once again. Distracted as she was by the bizarre nature of the injury she dealt to the monster, Altria doesn't react with the speed or eerie clarity you saw in her a minute ago; instead of being out of the way of the dragon's claws before they reach her, she has to bring her sword up in a parry. This stops the sharp and pointy element of the attack, but does little about the force behind them, and Altria is sent flying backwards by the blow.

Aquamentus presses the attack, but Altria's distraction fades visibly as she avoids each attack, and in short order, she's once again all but walking through the dragon's onslaught - though not quite so smoothly as the first time, to your eye, with moments of hesitation that turn what would have been easy avoidance into near misses. Given the power behind them, to say nothing of the heat in Aquamentus's breath, those close calls shake, rattle, and singe Altria more than might otherwise have been the case.

But they don't stop her, and Aquamentus soon takes another deep, bloody injury. This one doesn't spew fire, but that might actually make it worse, because the blood gushes from it for quite a bit longer than the first stab-wound did. The monster's movements become ever so slightly slower and less accurate as blood loss takes its toll, accelerating the entire process, and the third serious hit - a blow to the side of the head, when it telegraphed a lunging bite too much and failed to withdraw in time - brings the dragon's entire body crashing down.

Even then, Aquamentus is not dead, only dazed. It still has two legs beneath it, well-placed to lever it back up onto all fours the instant it recovers - but if Altria closes in and whacks it in the head a few times, you think it won't recover at all.

Altria's realized that herself, because she's already in position to strike, sword coming forward to strike-

"Yield."

-or, you know, not.

"What's she doing?" Zelda asks, blinking.