Into the pool

[kestrel404]

I was just about to suggest a section on dealing with spirits - as that seems to be a big part of this story. The negotiation handles that very nicely. But I might suggest adding a few elements later where you show how other people in the realm generally interact with spirits. Perhaps Vincent's high reality factor or personality make him get along better with spirits? Or attracts the really odd ones?
As for the stuff you've already posted, "First Covenant" is mentioned three times without any explanation. You can drop a refference once or twice and leave it as a hook for later, but by the time you mention it that third time, you'd better either get it out of the way (if it's simple, and not important to the plot), or (if it's important later and you don't want to spoil the surprise) give a small hint that gives us an idea but doesn't really explain anything. For instance, instead of "There's First Covenant, of course." you could say "There's First Covenant, which is a pain, but breaking the terms of a Boon is not something I want to do today". Or, if it's something conventional to every compact with a spirit, it could be, "There's First Covenant, they always want First Covenant." Just a little bit more, and we know you'll give us a full explanation when it becomes important.
Also - after he gets up on the first morning and the waif is in the kitchen singing, I'd have put in a comment about WHY she should be expected to be there at all. Something along the lines of "I don't know how they always fine me..." or "I really don't mind that X always sends the strays my way...", something along those lines. Even if she's there for some other reason, he should let on about his preconceptions of why it's a standing order with his house spirit that stray girls should be given couch space.
Everything else is good. The contrasts between formalism and informal 'this happens all the time' chit-chat with the various spirits is great - it gives a definite sense of him working hard to get a simple 'supernatural' power right and not actually having a completely flawless grasp of it. It's great to see a protaganist who isn't all-powerful, and is a little bumbling even in his area of supposed expertise.
When (not if, I'm sure of it) he ends up using his 'dark gift' in his new 'day job' of fighting off invading demons, I'd suggest a few of the following repercussions for comedic value (just as ideas, you don't need to use all of them): Acquiring followers (look, it's a dark lord! Don't kill us! We're your new minions!), getting reprimanded for using "non-standard-issue powers", getting sufficiently surprised by the power's manifestations that he just stands there and gets stabbed again (oh look, every time he goes in that room he gets stabbed...can we say running gag?), it knocks his reality level down for a while and he gets to find out how a normal guy lives (it's a non-native power, after all, and this could leave him with a VERY boring day to look forward to - which he might love, or hate. or both.)
That's all I've got, ATM. Great story.
"Not this again!" Minerva said. "Albus, it was You-Know-Who, not you, who marked Harry as his equal. There is no possible way that the prophecy could be talking about you!" - Harry Potter and the Method of Rationality, Chapter 84

[Sirrocco]

Kestrel - On the Covenant bit... I'm confused as to why you're confused.
---------------
What is left of her coalesces painfully around my wound, and the blood that drips from me is slowly drained away. I feel a tingle as for a second time, the two of us are connected by the Primal Covenant. And if it happens for the third and final? Well, she's competent, polite, and loyal. It wouldn't be so bad.
---------------
"Woah. Right... this is deep. Umm... yeah, okay. Granted. I shall aid you in this to the utmost of my ability, until his body lies unmoving, his heart beats no more, and you and yours are returned here safe. In return... what the hell do I ask for? In return, you are bound to forge with me a new contract, before the sun rises thrice, including first Covenant."
I close my eyes for a moment. Right. So be it. At a time like this, what's a bit more blood between friends?
---------------
As soon as we're done eating, Kiura pauses, looks thoughtful for a bit, and then makes a proposal which is far more reasonable than any she's made all day. It's a little unusual. There's First Covenant, of course....
---------------
maybe I could have given it a bit more weight that last time, but it seems pretty clear to me.
- the Primal Covenant involves (or at least can be invoked by) a spirit drinking the blood of the spiritcaller directly. It definately involves the spiritcaller pouring out some blood.
- It can happen up to three times. Each is significant, and the third very much so - to the point that willingness to enter into it on the spiritcaller's part is strongly influenced by the personality of the spirit. It is significant enough that part of the concern with respect to entering nto the Second Covenant is that you might wind up entering into the Third. The First is significant enough that Kiura is willing to accept it as her payment for a Full Boon - later revealed to be a goddess-level ritual.
- There's enough raw power flowing to the spirit (presumably from the caller) at the time of the Covenant itself to allow a spirit who had been keeping a shred of existence through desperation and raw will to stabilize up to a state from which they can maintain and recover.

I'll see about rewording that last time, so that it doesn't seem quite so throwaway - probably tie "First Covenant" to "primal Covenant" a little more explicitly, but really, how much more info would you want?

Oh, and he didn't have any reason to expect her to show up. He just has standing orers with his house spirit that if anyone shows up who looks like they need sanctuary and won't steal the silver, to let them in, let them eat, and let them crash on the couch. He figures its the decent thing to do. It doesn't happen *all* that often.
The Random Dark Minions idea is an entertaining one. I may be able to do somehtign with that - we'll have to see. Other than that, I already have my plans.
Blackaeronaut, I'm *glad* you like Kiura. She is awfully fun to write.
Acyl - thanks for the support. I've actually been considering putting a warning somewhere on this thing about how I'm a fan of Brian Randall's more surreal stuff.

[kestrel404]

Aha! I hadn't made the connection between the mention of 'Primal Covenant' and 'First Covenant'. It's obvious in retrospect, of course, but I missed it completely on my initial reading. Possibly because 'covenant' is such a loaded term when it comes to spirit binding (it generally means making a deal, not giving blood, after all), possibly because the capitalization of 'First' made it seem like that was some kind of special type of 'Covenant', not related to the Primal one.
My best suggestion is replacing 'I feel a tingle as for a second time, the two of us are connected by the Primal Covenant.' with 'The tingle of the Second Covenant is stronger than the First, as the two of us are again connected by the Primal Covenant.'
No matter how I put that, two mentions of Covenant in the same sentence just don't seem to play well together. Maybe you can do better. But if you can just get a capitalized 'First' somewhere in that sentence, you're golden. Even if you decide not to bother, there probably aren't many here who'd miss the connection.
"Not this again!" Minerva said. "Albus, it was You-Know-Who, not you, who marked Harry as his equal. There is no possible way that the prophecy could be talking about you!" - Harry Potter and the Method of Rationality, Chapter 84

[Sirrocco]

Actually, I'm going the other way. I'm just not going to capitalize "first" at all (my initial intention, before I walked away fromt eh story and came back months later) and I'm using the word "Primal" during the contract negotiations, with specific reference to the Boon. Should work pretty well. Anyway, thanks for the catch. I think it works a bit better this way.

[Florin]

Did... Did he just kill a sandwich so his car could eat it's ghost?--
Jimmy Hendrix is calling me! He's telling me to defeat Klingons! CAPTAIN PICARD!
--
If you become a monster to put down a monster you've still got a monster running around at the end of the day and have as such not really solved the whole monster problem at all. 

[Valles]

Yep. ^_^

===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"

[deadpan29]

On the subject of the prophecy, I have this sneaking supsicion that it involves his new houseguest and perhaps the words "bride of darkness" in reference to her.
----------
No, I don't believe the world has gone mad.  In order for it to go mad it would need to have been sane at some point.

[Sirrocco]

Not "bride", so much - no. Still, you've got it close enough, among the group of y'all. Here's your no-prize - one of the discarded bits from the original version. This would be during one of the iterations where I had Vincent swearing like a Marine. I've d---ed out the applicable words.
----------------
He curles his face into a scowl, cries out some words in one of the Tongues That Ought Not Be and makes an arcane gesture that launches a vivid bolt of dark lightning toward me. This is a man who has not done his homework.
You see, you don't get into CustSec without being special. We fight interdimensional threats on a daily basis. To get in you have to be fit, you have to be smart, and you have to have at least one thing that you can do amazingly well. Some of us are combat experts - gun, blade or unarmed. Some are mystics - spiritmasters, magii, or whatever. Hard to tell the difference between those guys some times. Some folks have specific psychic abilities, like the agent in B squad who can tell you your enemy's strengths and weaknesses in nothing flat. I love that guy. My power is that I'm very, very Real. I Exist harder than almost anyone else around here, and this dimension is more Real than most. I'm hard to hurt and bloody hard to kill. I earth out stresses in Probability. I shed hostile magic like a duck sheds water. So when this guy tosses a bolt of Darkest Sorcery at me, I don't bother to dodge. I feel no need to cringe. I just brace myself and get ready to act like it meant something.
The unholy bolt strikes me dead on and crackles across my skin, giving off a weird and eldritch light. It tingles a little.
And that's when he starts ranting at me about how weak and insignificant I am in the face of his earth-shattering powers.
You know? I've been dealing with s--- all day. All f---ing day, and this guy, this *poser* has been the cause of most of it. I've taken it, and I've gritted my teeth and smiled, because I had no choice. This time is different, though. I do have a choice. I *don't* have to stand here and take it from *him*. He didn't go through *customs*. Legally, he doesn't *exist*. The beast within snarls an ugly little snarl, and I slide in slow and smooth. I have plenty of time. He thinks I'm still reeling from whatever the f--- he tried to do to me, and he'll be absorbed in his gloating for a good five minutes if I don't snap him out of it first. Supervillains are such massive f---ing egotists
I get up nice and close, wind up, take a moment to choose exactly where I want to plant my fist, and let him have it, putting my entire body behind the blow. Oh, that felt good. He reels, stumbling back a few paces, and staring at me in horror and confusion. "You hit me. I was in the middle of a villainous speech...and you *hit* me. How...?"
Clearly they have some deeply f---ed up rules in the world he lives on.
"Oh, yeah." I say, grinning. "That's right. You're the ---hole who was too good to go through Customs."
I walk up to him again, taking my time. After all, according to his rules, I'm in a rant. He probably thinks that he has to just stand there like a dumbf--- and listen.
"You didn't give anyone the chance to tell you."
I ball up my left fist and let him have it low in the gut. He bends over a bit, coughing, as the wind gets knocked out of him.
"You see, the rules are different here."
Proper application of my right fist straightens him back up again and pushes him back a few more steps. Maybe he loses a few teeth. Won't matter soon.
"Maybe where you came from you were some all-powerful black magus."
I reach out and latch my left hand, gentle but firm around the right side of his neck.
"but here...?"
I wrap my right hand around the other side, and lift him off the ground by his head. I pause a moment, drawing it out, savoring the look of rage, terror, and utter bewilderment in his eyes, as he struggles feebly against me.
"Here, you're just a punk."
I snarl, I flex, and there is a sickening, liquid crunch.

"...and punks *die*."
I loosen my grip, and his body drops, landing in a crumpled heap. I spit on it for good measure. _--hole.
That's when things stop going according to plan.
Black smoke wisps out of his robe, quickly joined by tendrils from his mouth and eyes. It pours together and accumulates into a writhing ball about a foot and a half above his chest, and his face decays as the rest of his body seems to collapse. Now, I know the drill. This is obviously a Dark Inheritance of some sort - some Power entirely independant of the life of the wielder. It's spelled "badmojo" in a hundred different languages, and at this point, I really ought to be getting the hell away from it, in the hopes of not getting any on me. Instead, I stand there rubbernecking like a moron. A rookie mistake. I come out of my stupor and start to move within less than half a minute, but by then it is reaching for me, and it is far too late.
--------------
I told you it was no prize.
One no-prize remaining for whoever can figure out what *Vincent*'s hiding.
Also, my apologies for the wait. I've hit a point where the next bit depends on what the *girl* wants to do, and I'm realizing that I've not developed her nearly enough as a character.

[Hollow49]

---

Oh, and he didn't have any reason to expect her to show up. He just has standing orers with his house spirit that if anyone shows up who looks like they need sanctuary and won't steal the silver, to let them in, let them eat, and let them crash on the couch. He figures its the decent thing to do. It doesn't happen *all* that often.

---

And here I'd got the impression that it was going to turn out to be some kind of karmic balance for his talent - yes, he can shrug off almost anything out of the ordinary, but it makes him a soft touch and a sucker for a sob story.
Also, since we've seen everything so far from his perspective, it seems right that the girl is something of an enigma at present - after all he doesn't know what makes her tick yet.
I'm enjoying this. I have the impression that you know just where you're going with it too, which is always promising in a story. (All too many fics seem to peter out or get abandoned when the author loses his momentum.)

[Sirrocco]

I know the endpoint - the ending image, really. In particular, I know in broad strokes how the world will be shaped when I get done with it, and I have some idea of what it will require to reach that state - but there's a whole lot of the middle that I *don't* yet have.
On the bright side, I've finally managed to get the next bit done. It's a little short, but hopefully there will be more to follow soon.
------------------
I wake up a little while later, feeling worlds better. I check the clock to my right. Huh. That's funny. It's only been about three hours, and I feel like I've slept at least eight or nine. Also, there's something funny on my left side. I look left. The girl is lying on top of the covers, curled up against me, nestled into the crook of my arm, passed out. It feels really nice, and she looks really cute, and I have no idea how to deal with this. She mumbles something unintelligible and burrows in a little closer. I turn my head to stare at the ceiling.
"Hethia?"
"Yes, Domitor?"
"Help?"
"What would you have of me, Domitor?"
"What do I do?"
"You could just relax and enjoy it. Given that you were alone when you fell asleep, it is likely that she doesn't mind being there."
"Hethia?"
"Yes, Domitor?"
"That's not helping."
Hethia, of course, says nothing.
I spend a few more moments strugging with myself, and then begin, slowly and carefully, to move. It takes all of the skills I have at my disposal - pillow replacement technique, blanket repositioning, and one panicked moment of fervent, carefully generic prayer, but I manage to get free without waking her up, and even make sure that she has enough covers around her to stay warm. Then I head down stairs. Perhaps I'll put in some time in the workshop after all.
My workshop is in the basement, lined with Primal Stone (and wow, but that wasn't cheap) and covered in wards of containment and protection, carved into the stones themselves. If you're going to do something long-term, it pays to do it right. I settle down for the long, tedious process of reopening my spiritstones, and then refilling them. Meanwhile, though, I have a curiosity.
"Hethia, what was she *doing* up there?"
"I believe that she was sleeping, Domitor."
There is a pause. I'm glad Hethia's feeling better. I am. I take another pause, and remind myself of that.
"As you say. Why, then. Why was she sleeping up there, in my bed, with me? How did this come to pass?"
"It appeared to be magical exhaustion, Domitor. After you went to bed, she asked me a very similar question, and I explained some of how tiring the past few days must have been. She became concerned and went to your room. When she saw you there, unconscious on the bed, she slipped the covers over you, knelt on the bed beside you, and began to work a healing magic. It was obviously both gentle and beneficial, so I did not interfere. She continued for a number of minutes, showing signs of increasing strain, before finally relaxing, passing out, and falling across you. I took the initiative to move her to a position that would be more comfortable fr both of you, and let you be."
Oh.
Well, then.
I spend the next few hours in silence, working stones.
----------------
As always, feedback of all kinds much appreciated, and concrit will be listened to and actively considered. I'm unlikely to repost sections here unless somethign calls for a major rewrite, but it does go into the file that I'm building, and will be in the final version when I post it (wherever it is that I end up posting it).

[CattyNebulart]

It's good to see Hethia has a sense of humor, but you might want to make the narrator comment on that twinkle in her eye or that small smile or whatever she always gets when she is teasing. Or if you wanted this as an example that she's not human put a comment like that in the narrators thoughts, because it can be read either way.
And why did he switch from Heart Spirit to Hethia? It was just before the second Covenant, wasn't it? Are we supposed to know why?
Anyway good work.
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

[Sirrocco]

The switch back and forth between "Hearth Spirit" and "Hethia" depends on how formal/personal he's being. The Second Covenant, by its nature, *does* tend to reduce the level of formality, but it's not absolute.
For the other, Hethia's sense of humor is very dry, and very formal. You can tell because she answers his questions to the letter, rather than the spirit, and in a way that makes him look a little silly. If it couldn't be read either way, or if she allowed her eyes to twinkle, it wouldn't be the same kind of humor.
It looks like you figured out the humor from context well enough. In particular, the "I'm glad she's feeling better" line was, I think, reasonably clear. What's the issue, then?

[CattyNebulart]

meh, no real problem it's just a little ambigius, which is not nessecarily bad.
comfortable fr both
fr -> for
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

[Sirrocco]

Another bit. Been a while in coming, but at least it's got some length to it. Hope you all enjoy.
------------------
I finish repowering the stones of Cleansing and Karma. I keep my life-flows pretty clean anyway, so Cleansing isn't too bad, but the backlash that Karma slaps me with gives that same horrible trapped feeling it always does. It'll fade in a little while, but for the moment, it's time to get out of the basement. I close down the workspace as hastily as I can without hurting anything, and book it up the stairs.
Okay. Okay. It's not so bad. I'm in the house proper now. There are windows. There are doorways - multiple doorways. There isn't any more of the entrapping Stone or grasping runework. I'm okay. I'm going to be okay.
I think I'll just step outside for a moment.
After fifteen minutes or so of breathing in the fresh air, I've shaken off enough of the effect that I can go back inside the house. I'm still not going to want to head back into the basement any time soon. That's okay, though. It's about time to start dinner anyway. I have a guest, which calls for something special, but there's not time to do chili properly. I'll throw some spaghetti together.
About half an hour of cooking later, the waif comes murfling down the stairs, making appreciative food-smelling noises. I let her help chop, while providing a lecture on the proper preparation of spaghetti. She lets me, which is nice of her, I suppose. It's also rather nice having an assistant. Everything becomes so much less... frantic.
Finally, then, the sausage is cooked, the vegetables are sauteed, the sauce constructed, the pasta boiled, and the cheese and grater are in their proper places. We, we admire, and then we eat, and the air is filled with chewing noises for a good solid fifteen minutes. Life is good. Life is very good. Still, I have some questions, and now's at least as good a time as any.
"Hethia told me that did some gentle healing on me while I was asleep. Thank you. I feel much better for it."
She beams at me, then swallows quickly. "You're welcome. It wasn't all that much. I just poured a bit of life into you."
The blood drains from my face. "You tapped yourself? For me?"
"Well, I guess you could put it that way. It wasn't really that big a deal. I did it all the time for my teammates back home."
I shake it off, hopefully before she notices. The ideas of karmic balance must be really warped where they come from. Still, that's okay. No reason to upset her, and every reason not to.
"Oh. Well, I thank you regardless. It did bring up a question, though, that I realized I hadn't asked yet. What do you do? What sort of powers do you have?"
She looks at me suspiciously for a moment, inhales, then sits with her mouth open for a moment before shaking her head and letting the breath back out again. "I hate to say this. I really hate to say this, but how do I know that you're not an elaborate shadow construct designed by one of the Lords of Darkness to try to get information out of me? They did this sort of thing all the time back home"
I stare at her for a solid minute. "Kid, there is something terribly wrong with the world you come from."
She shrugs apologetically. Fine, then.
"Listen, you're a Magical Girl, right? You look like you're a pretty experienced one, too. I'd be willing to be that you've got some sort of tremendously powerful purely magical attack."
She nods, cautiously.
"We'll finish the spaghetti real quick, step outside, and you can hit me with it. I'd bet there isn't a shadow construct on your world that can withstand even close to your best. I'd also bet that I can survive it pretty well. Fair trial?"
She gets a horrified look on her face. "No. Wait. I didn't mean..."
I cut her off. "Kid. Stop. I refuse to have you live in my house and doubt my reality. You asked how to be sure I wasn't a shadow construct. This is a way to be sure."
She doesn't look real happy. That's okay. I ain't real happy either.
Fifteen minutes later, we've cleaned up the meal. I'm standing outside, barefoot, wearing paint-spattered work shorts and nothing else. Let it never be said that I can't learn. I'm also standing on the grass, because the flagstones are a pain to get replaced, and I've spoken a few brief words of gentle greetings and explanation to the nearby Wood and Earth spirits. The girl is standing a short distance away, clad in her combat uniform, looking vaguely unhappy. Then she takes a deep breath and centers herself. I get ready to take the blow that I know is coming.
She gestures, and a shimmering ball appears in her right hand. She tosses it into the air, it homes in on me, and it shatters. I feel nothing.
"Kid, I know how magical girls work. That wasn't your limit. That one didn't even take an audible. Don't insult me. Be serious."
"Fine. You want an audible? You get an audible. Life's defender! Verdant strike!"
A bolt of green brightness launches from her outstretched hands and plows into my chest. That one I can feel, but it wouldn't slow me down in a fight. She's still holding back.
"Better, but still not your best. Try again."
She gets a serious look in her eyes. Right. *Here* it comes.
"Power of Light! Power of Truth! Lend me your strength! Searing Flames of Purity! Cleanse the Taint of the World!"
Okay. That sounds pretty strong, but hopefullly won't be *too* bad. I can deal with being violently cleansed. I think. The backlash from forging that runestone should mean that my flows are especially clean right now, and this might even help with the unwelcome passenger.
She draws into a classic "Channeling mighty forces" position - legs braced, hands together, body hunched over, eyes closed. I brace myself to take it.
Nothing happens.
Nothing.
After a moment, she pops one eye open. "Where is the Pillar? Why can't I touch the Pillar?"
...And that's when the previously mentioned wood and earth spirits tap gently on my metaphorical shoulder and ask me how I'm intending to *pay* for the nonconsensual channeling she just did.
Okay. Two entirely different crises about to happen here. Put one off, deal with the other one. First, to the spirits.
"I'll get back to you on that. For now, know that Vincent Keddington swears to make amends and be thou satasfied."
They are. I've always been scrupulously fair in my dealings with the spirit world. Being able to say things like that and have them mean something when I have to is more than worth the cost. I still can't believe how *stupid* some of the guys at school were. Anyway, next crisis.
I've been moving since the spirits gave me the nod, and I'm ready to catch her in case she pulls a repeat of that "collapse weeping" thing. My arms are even out to either side, for better reaction time. I'm ready.
She's just standing there. She looks up at me, with a somewhat rueful expression on her face.
"Well, I guess that's it, then. Without the pillars to call on, Verdant Strike really *is* my best."
Okay. No collapsing. That's good, I suppose.
"...and the forces of darkness already know a fair amount about my other powers, since I got them before Shadow Kamen left, so I guess I might as well tell you too."
"That wasn't the point, and you know it."
"Fine, then." She pouts a little. "You're not a shadow construct. They're all pretty weak, and would have been destroyed by the Verdant Strike. You're not an evil dream. Evil dreams always involve either more suffering or more direct temptation anyway. You're off the hook. Happy?"
"Thank you." I would have given her a bit of grief about it at this point except, well, there were more important things to talk about. "I do have to ask you a favor, though. Don't use Verdant Strike either. The tree spirits don't like it when you steal life from them."
"Steal? I didn't steal anything! The Forestlord gave me the right to call on that power!"
"...and the Forestlord you know is about as far away from here as your Pillars are, I suspect."
She is speechless for a moment. I let her recover.
"Right. Yeah, I guess he is. Okay. Tell me what I need to do to make it up to them."
I think I'm going to like this girl.
Well, it's late, anyway, and forest spirits always prefer to do business during the day, so we trundle on inside to sit down. It turns out that her powers are pretty much in channeling. She connects to a well of mystical energy and channels it for effect. She can do little stuff off of her own life, but anything impressive takes a donor, and she's fresh out of donors here. That, then, segues neatly into my next question.
"So now what?"
"Now what?"
"Yeah. Where do you go from here?"
She looks down and sighs.
"I go back home. Lord Trayal is dead, and they still need me. I wait for you do figure out what you're going to do about the Inheritance, and I go home."
She looks so tired as she says that. Then she lifts her head again - looks me straight in the eye.
"Any chance you might come with me?"
Oh, ow. I'm not going to enjoy saying this.
"Sorry, kid. I can't. I swore an oath to protect this place with everything I have. I don't break my oaths. Erath comes first."
"Could you... could you promise me that you will if somehow it turns out that you can?"
My mind churns. How am I supposed to answer that? How am I supposed to answer that with no warning, no prep time, asked point blank, answer right now? I've got a life here. I've got one Covenanted spirit and I'm about to bind to another. I've got the Force - they depend on me. Well, really I guess "depend" is a bit too strong. I'd be awfully hard to replace perfectly if I were gone, and it's real handy to have a guy like me around from time to time (Omega 5 being a perfect case in point.) but it's not like they couldn't deal with those sorts of issues in other ways if they had to. I've got a sister. She needs me. Might need me. Well... honestly, it's more like "needed"... and the last time she *really* needed me was a bit over ten years ago... and she's taken up the study of Krav Maga since then. I think she even married one of her instructors. It's been a while since the last time we talked. I've got.... I've got.... No, really, that's it I guess. It looks like mostly I've just got my spirits. Who could come with me, easily enough, since there's nothing tying *them* here but me. I guess....
"Okay. I promise. If somehow it turns out that my oaths let me go with you when the time comes, I'll go."
She goes from pleading to beaming in a heartbeat. An instant later the fabric of reality itself ripples. I just did something huge - something that was enough to reshape That Which Is strongly enough that I could *feel* it, and I have no idea what. I tense up - it's way too late, whatever it is, but I tense up anyway - and so I am *completely* unprepared when she tacklehugs me back into the chair. After another moment of paralysis, I gently hug back. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? And really, this is.... No. Stop that.
*Sigh*.
It's a few minutes later. She's nestled in with me in the chair. Our arms are still wrapped around each other. This... this really just won't do. I clear my throat. She looks up at me, all happy looking.
"Hmmm?"
She's *really*.... No. Stop that. I regather my near-shattered resolve. She waits patiently, still beaming at me.
"Okay. Right. Can we go back to the talking bit now?"
"Sure!"
She makes no move to... well... move. I take another moment to re-center myself.
"I mean, the bit where we were sitting in different chairs."
"But I like it here. It's nice. Feels good." She gives me an extra squeeze. "Doesn't it feel good to you?" She snuggles in a little closer, and keeps looking up at me, now with puppy-dog eyes.
"Well... I mean... that is...." Right. I obviously just can't deal with the two-front war right now. I close my eyes, and try to re-center myself *again*.
"Listen, just.... Please? For me? And please, please don't ask me to explain."
She's still using the puppy-dog eyes. I know she is. I can feel them through my eyelids. Then, suddenly, the warm, soft contact all along my left side is broken. I.... No. It's better this way.
"Well, okay. If you put it that way." I feel her lips brush my forehead. When I finally do manage to open my eyes again, she's back to sitting in her original chair, looking like nothing has happened. I stare at her for a bit, utterly failing to come up with anything meaningful to say, before I notice with a rush of relief that it's gotten late enough that I really *should* be getting ready for the ritual.
"But you said you wanted to go back to talking."
I cobble together some miserable excuse for an excuse and make good my escape.
Behind me, I could swear I hear giggles.
-------------
As always, feedback of all kinds much appreciated.

[DHBirr]

"Murfling"?
Don't get me wrong -- I'm not objecting, the meaning seems fairly obvious, and I rather like the sound of it -- but I'm just idly curious as to whether you got that word from somewhere else or is it supposed to be the protagonist's private (or family, or colleagues') neologism.

---

I really hate to say this, but how do I know that you're not an elaborate shadow construct designed by one of the Lords of Darkness to try to get information out of me?

---

"Pouring a bit of life" into him for healing wouldn't let her tell, one way or the other? One minute, she's giving up some of her own life force to give him healing he didn't consider crucially essential (or he would've contacted a known professional for it, wouldn't he?), and the next she doesn't trust him with a verbal description of her capabilities? Can you do that sort of transfer as a purely one-way, no-feedback thing? I don't know; it seems skewed, somehow. Of course, he does say there's something terribly wrong with her world, but it might be good if he comments -- either in his thoughts, or, better, directly to her -- on this particular dichotomy. "Wait a minute -- opening up to merge your life-force into mine didn't let you know if I'm real or not?"
-----
Big Brother is watching you.  And damn, you are so bloody BORING.

[Sirrocco]

"Murfling" happens to be a neologism that floats around my life. I'd actually figured it was reasonably common. It'd be family for him, if anything.
Feedback: when you pour water from a pitcher into a pot, does the pitcher know what heppened to the water?
His not responding: She obviously doesn't think that the life thing is a big deal (or, at least, is acting like she doesn't.) He is taking that at face value. He *does* think it's a big deal (Karma is strong in his world. Furthermore, in his world, pouring out some of your life to heal someone is one of the more Karmically powerful things you can do - right up there with sacrificing some of your life to take vengeance on them - and as a spiritcaller it's *especially* meaningful to him because it's basically the foundation that spiritcallers use to bind spirits - and that has its own second-order Karmic effects.) He *really* doesn't want her to realize what a big deal it is to him.
Her strange reactions: From time to time during her career, the forces of darkness would put together illusions, waking or sleeping, either to tempt or to get information. She managed to convince them that tempting her was a lost cause, but they still tried to trick her into telling them things. One of the information bits they were *always* interested in was the combat capabilities of the girl and her team - and the illusions often started out with an appearance that everything was finally well with the world. She has *big* hangups that kick in as soon as anyone asks her what her powers (or the powers of her teammates) are - anyone, anywhere, under any circumstances.
Of course, that's just what's in my head - and that explanation won't be going into the final version. Is there anyone else who suffered a similar bit of whiplash? Should I try to tweak things to make it a bit smoother?

[Rieverre]

---

Of course, that's just what's in my head - and that explanation won't be going into the final version. Is there anyone else who suffered a similar bit of whiplash? Should I try to tweak things to make it a bit smoother?

---

Meh. She's a magical girl. That very thing leaves things like common sense by the wayside. Other than the bit with the healing being, maybe, a way to remind her that yes, he is real, no, he isn't a construct, and is she always this forgetful, it's all good.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm

[Sirrocco]

Well, that was.... No. Nevermind. At least it's over with. I head down the stairs to my lab. The last little bit of Karmic feedback is still making me a bit jittery, but it's nothing I can't handle, and this is the best place I've got for preparations by far. I strip down, get everything I'm going to need from the various cabinets and closets, enter and activate my largest permanent circle, and get ready to cleanse myself. First, of course, is Fire. It's best that way, even if it is most painful. There's a fair amount of that in ritual spiritmastery, actually. I center myself, grasp the torch, and try to think of other things.
The Primal Covenant itself isn't complex at all. All you really need is an intelligent spirit, an intelligent creature that uses blood in the usual way, and the latter willingly giving their blood to the former to drink. It *is* important, though - it's the original basis of all spiritmagic, really - and it's accumulated certain customs and courtesies, for use when time permits. It's good to follow the customs when you can. They reinforce the Laws, and that helps keep the more civilised spirits satasfied, and helps keep the wilder ones restrained. Some days I'm not quite sure which kind Kiura *is*, but I figure it's a good thing either way.
Well, fire's done, as unpleasant as it was, but that's okay. The worst is yet to come. Much as I might like to do this in some other order - *any* other order, really - the next step for best effect is the cleansing with sand. Oh, my poor seared skin.
Of course, the Covenant's not the only thing we're going to do tonight or I'd have done it already. The Contract *is* a complicated ritual, and one of its influences is time. Kiura's of the Metal Court. Midnight, and just after, are focal times for her. It's best to bind metal spirits ad midnight on general principles, if you can manage it, and since she'll be working with me rather than against me, it's no more dangerous.
Okay. Sand's done. That's a blessing. Next come water. Icemelt, to be precise. I grit my teeth and raise the first of three buckets over my head.
Ahhhh....
That was cold. Yeah. Definately Cold.
I shiver violently, and reach for the second.
The Covenant, in turn, is waiting on the Contract. Doing the Contract first, and then the Covenant helps to keep things clear for the Courts and Kings (if it ever comes to that). Beyond that, though, it's worthwhile to perform the Covenant as soon as you possibly can after the Contract. It is by its nature the most significant portion of the caller's role in any Contract that contains it, and getting it done immediately helps show good faith, and build goodwill.
And... and water's done. I've only got wind left now. Spirit isn't strictly necessary, and I got a good dose of it earlier today anyway. Having it out of order won't hurt anything. Just wind left. I just have to go through this and it'll be done. I could... I could call for a lesser wind, or a warmer one. I could... but that would not be Right. Sometimes I worry that my sense of the Right doesn't like me very much. I close my eyes and open up my minor spiritgate of the Winter Court. They do so enjoy these little breezes out of season.
Goodwill is important when dealing with spirits. It makes them less likely to turn on you when you slip up. I think of it this way. There are three kinds of spiritcallers. There are the ones who do everything precisely in accordance with the literal laws every time. They're safe because the spirits never get a chance to harm them. There are the ones who go the extra mile to keep the spirits from getting too unhappy, so that when they do mess up, they don't get hurt as badly. Then there are the dead ones. I'm not good enough to get it right every single time, and I'm smart enough to know it. I go the extra mile.
I close the gate. Closed. Finally. I tap it a couple of times Just To Be Sure. My teeth are chattering, and my poor scorched skin is rimed with little patches of ice, but nothing seems damaged, and I'm about as clean as the Rituals of the Earth can make me. I break the circle, and put on my Robe - cleansed, purified, blessed, and standing by for the occasion. Also warm. That's a very nice thing, sometimes. I arrange my Instruments about my person and place the Substances in the pockets set by for them. I have the complete set - even of the Substances I never use. Even the Primal Obsidian, that *nobody* ever uses. It was horribly expensive, and I had to wait while they ran a background investigation on me, but it's worth having, just for the completeness. I sit in meditation for the burning of one candle. Then I rise, and I go to the garage.

[Acyl]

Well, getting things a little clearer, a little smoother, that's always good. But planting questions in the reader's mind isn't a bad thing either... and, really, our narrator is off-balance. So not having everything spelt out contributes to a sense of...confusion, which goes with what our hero's feeling.
-- Acyl

[Sirrocco]

Acyl - Just to try to get a bit of clarity in the feedback - are you suggesting that I not explain quite so much, here? Or are you talking about the questions I'm currently leaving unanswered? I'll admit that I was a bit worried that I might be going a bit heavy on the exposition in this segment.

[kestrel404]

I think this segment was well done. There was exposition, yes, but done in a personal manner, so it doesn't feel like exposition really. It goes well with the rest of it, I think.
"Not this again!" Minerva said. "Albus, it was You-Know-Who, not you, who marked Harry as his equal. There is no possible way that the prophecy could be talking about you!" - Harry Potter and the Method of Rationality, Chapter 84

[Acyl]

My comment was in relation to the previous section you posted, not the most recent update...which wasn't there when I started composing my reply.
Look at the timestamps, they're sufficiently close together.
I was talking about the questions you're leaving unanswered. That sorta thing is fine. In fact, it's a good thing. You don't wanna lay cards on the table too soon, after all.
Which doesn't mean the last bit was bad. Exposition-heavy, yes, but...it works. What Kestrel said. The explanations work, since they're in-relation to a long process the narrator's going through...and something he'd naturally reflect on. It's natural, so it's cool.
-- Acyl

[Sirrocco]

Hokay. Good to know.
It's also the case that our narrator is reflecting on these things in a desperate attempt to think about something - *anything*, really - other than what he's doing to himself at that moment.
I'm glad it's working, though.

[Sirrocco]

'nother bit.
-------------------
I get to the garage. Kiura's there, obviously. She's even manifested. That's not too strange, I suppose, given the circumstances, but... she's manifested, curled up on the hood of the car and sleeping? That doesn't make sense. She looks really peaceful like that, almost angelic, but it just doesn't make any sense. On the whole, she should be burning more energy from being manifested than sleeping would give her. Why would you go to sleep if it wasn't restful?
"Kiura."
She mumbles a little, and shifts slightly.
"Kiura?"
Nothing.
I walk over to her, and lay one hand on her manifested shoulder. She's even put enough effort into the manifestation to make it feel soft and warm to the touch. No sense at all. I shake her gently. She opens up her eyes slowly and looks up at me, smiling.
"Hmmm?"
"Kiura, it's near midnight. Time to go."
"Oh, okay."
She sits up on the hood, and stretches luxuriously. (But spirits don't - no, nevermind. It's not worth thinking about any more. It will only give me a headache.)
The nearest major intersection is about fifteen minutes walk away. I go on foot, travelling to the appointed place only with what is most truly Mine. She walks beside me. I'd have thought she'd bring the car, but she doesn't choose to, and it is her choice. We talk of random things. It turns out she *can* manifest a sense of smell. She'd been working on it for a while, and really figured out how to do it right just recently. I'd never known. The roads are empty this time of night, which is good - it means that we can do this in the true center of the crossroads and not bother anyone. I start to do ritual.
First, I inscribe a circle with chalk around us both. It won't do much to block anything in either direction, but this version lets off a noticeable glow, and will make us that much more obvious in case any late-night motorists *do* pass by. Then I begin with the Gifts. The Spiritual is, of course, Primal Iron. It's the last of my stock, and getting more is going to be annoying, but life is what it is. She accepts it gracefully. It dissolves away in her hands, and she breathes in sharply, eyes closed, a smile on her face as the power of it pours into her. The Practical is a bottle of car wax, and the promise to use it. It's only *just* practical enough to count, but I figured it would make her happy, and it does. We can get the repair work done without the intervention of ritual. Finally, the Frivolous is a smallish set of fuzzy white dice, with silver pips. It's silly. It's *awfully* silly, but I know she's wanted a set for a while now - and for the second time today I am hugged unexpectedly. She really *has* put a lot of effort into this manifestation. After a short while, she regains her composure and steps back again... and she's *blushing*? No. Never mind. Headache, remember? On to the ritual proper.
"Kiura, Spirit of Metal, I, Vincent Keddington stand before you, to offer a contract for your services, as we have discussed, as we have agreed, as we have sworn. At this time and in this place, I stand ready to bind myself by it, to you. Do you do the same?"
"I do, Domitor."
I nearly lose the thread of the ritual with that one. That's not normal. Kiura *never* calls me 'Domitor'. *Ever*. Thankfully, my bone-deep indoctrination in the Forms carry me past my shock. Messing up on this one would be *bad*.
I reach out my hand. "At this time, and in this place, I *do* bind myself to you. By my Will and by my Power, and by the Contract we have sworn I do bind myself, if you will but complete it."
She reaches out her hand, and clasps it around my outstretched wrist. I grasp her wrist in turn, closing the circle, and listen. She's been acting awfully strangely, and this is a critical bit. What she says here will be important.
"By my Will and by my Substance and by the Contract we have sworn, I do complete our binding."
That's all? No. That's a fairly normal response (well, normal for fully consensual contracts, anyway - not like they're all that common) but... there's something she's not saying. I can feel the space in the magics, shaped by intent but not words. I.... I don't have time to think about it. The last line's coming up. We speak it in unison.
"By our Will, so it is done."
I feel a crackle in the Fabrics, and a rush, as by our Power the world is reshaped, and then she collapses against me, nearly intangible, nearly colorless. Wait. That's right. She spent of her *Substance* on this thing - and by the looks of it, she spent awfully heavily. She looks up, a weakened smile on her face, and speaks softly.
"Hey... any chance we could do that Covenant bit now? I'm feeling kinda woozy."
I nod, and reach for my ritual knife with my right hand, while holding her to me with the left. She looks just barely this side of losing cohesion, and my body heat given willingly will help her maintain long enough for the Covenant to do its work. A bit of juggling, the still mostly clean knife goes back in its sheath, and there's a fresh cut in my right palm, welling up nicely. I offer it to her.
She reaches her head down tentatively, and places her mouth to the wound, then slowly begins to drink. Bit by bit, the color flows back into her, bringing her back from near-transparence. She slips out from underneath my arm, and cups my hand in both of hers. I feel her lips gain warmth and solidity, and see her manifested body fully regain its form. She looks up into my eyes with an expression I don't understand, and makes some small noises that I can't quite catch. I feel the tingle, as for the first time we are connected by the Primal Covenant. I let her drink until she is done.
Finally, she lifts her lips from my palm, licks the wound one last time, and releases my hand. I bandage the injury, and then look up to see her standing, hands clasped behind her, looking downward. This is... not like her. At all. Not that I'm complaining. Not exactly, anyway. Worried? Yes. Confused? Definately. Not so much with the complaining, though - or at least not for the moment. She speaks.
"What would you have of me, Domitor?"
No. I can't take it. It's just way too strange. I reach out and lift up her chin, so that she's looking me in the eye again.
"Okay. Better. Let's go home."
She smiles at me, and then leaps into the air, releasing her manifestation. By the time I'm done cleaning up the Circle, the car is there. It really is nice to have efficient help. I get in, and we roll.
----------
It's a little on the shortish side, but it was pretty quick. As always, all feedback is appreciated, considered, and often responded to. Compliments are good, complaints are good, wild speculations are good, and concrit is particularly good. It's all good. Also, I know these are coming out a bit on the quick and short side for a moment. If you have a particular comment to make about a previous section, plese specify which one.

[Hollow49]

Will there be more of this fic forthcoming? It looked promising, but there's been silence for a month now.