Shinji Matou and the Philosopher's Stone (HP/FSN CYOA)

[Soldat der Trauer]

I am not Bloble w/ his Rank EX luck. So I have to find another way. :V

[Mooncake]

3

[Lycodrake]

4. Mostly because I would like to see Alf's presentation and take on it.

[Rafflesiac]

The number of people not interested in Solid Shinji is extraordinarily depressing.

[EnigmaticFellow]

Maybe they're interested in Liquid Worm?

[Xamusel]

I'll bite... option 4 it is for me.

[ILurkNoMoar]

4. Of Ofuda and Origami: Principles of Onmyoudou for Witches - The basics of how such a versatile and commonplace substance as paper can be used for spells. Includes information on the creation of Shikigami, ofuda wards / amulets and preparing ofuda-based spells in particular.

[RR121]

The number of people not interested in Solid Shinji is extraordinarily depressing.

I'll throw you a vote.

#3, Solid Shinji FTW

Also, Soldat, if you could do me a favor? Contacting people is fine, but if you don't mind, invite them to read the story and come to a decision themselves. Mentioning your own preference is fine, but it looks like you're trying to hijack a group, collaborative CYOA event into your personal story when you do it in the manner you did, which isn't cool.

Thank you.

[mAc Chaos]

Why would Shinji want to be all sneaky though. He only does during the Grail War when he's being a coward. So all that "going unseen" stuff would be replaced by being his flashy old self in a school situation.

also that avatar buster has reminds me of someone else... someone had that for a while...

[alfheimwanderer]

Why would Shinji want to be all sneaky though.

I will say this, since there seem to be some misapprehensions. All of these choices fit, at some level, with the ambitions of Matou Shinji. Occulmency, for instance, would pique his interest as he would not want his hard won knowledge to be stolen away (not that it works quite like that). The Elemental primer would grant him a more in-depth introduction to elemental spells and how they can be used, along with hints on how runes can be used in the wizarding world. The Shadow tome certainly seems on the surface to just cover being unseen - but you are forgetting that to cover stealth, it needs to teach how stealth can be defeated, and he'd certainly be interested in what wizarding capabilities were as to concealment. As for the Onmyoudo, it usually pays off to have something a bit different from what other people expect, especially if one only needs perhaps blood and paper as the media for spells.

That said, if voting, please take the time to read the story. I have taken pains to keep it amusing and to keep Shinji relatively human, so looking through the storyline is appreciated.

[Thedoctor]

1. Occlumency: the art of memory and mind

Shinji has been brought up in a magus household where keeping secrets is the most important thing. Therefore getting a book that teaches him to defend against mental interference would suit that need perfectly.


And it's called Occlumency not Occulmency just saying.

[YeOfLittleFaith]

Also, Soldat, if you could do me a favor? Contacting people is fine, but if you don't mind, invite them to read the story and come to a decision themselves. Mentioning your own preference is fine, but it looks like you're trying to hijack a group, collaborative CYOA event into your personal story when you do it in the manner you did, which isn't cool.

To be fair the last time he did this I changed my vote because I didn't have a personal preference and another person asked me to pick something else and made a good case for it other than "uguu these guys are gonna muck up the awesomest choice pls yolfu"
(No hard feelings for that one, Soldat. :P)

The options this time just happened to include something I do have a legitimate interest and like for, so even if I'm not following the story I feel absolutely no remorse whatsoever voting for it.

[UnlimitedBladeWorks]

I'll be the oddball and go with #2.

[Megas]

Shinji already has maxed out the sneaky stat, do he doesn't need to upgrade it anymore

[alfheimwanderer]

Very well, the Onmyoudou book it is!

---

Chapter 4. The City Time Forgot

The quiet fall of footsteps marked the passage of two travelers along a winding staircase carved into the cliff face, its worn, smooth steps hinting at its age. This was the traditional path that taken by those who came to Mahoutokoro for the first time, a journey in itself which allowed one to reflect upon the vista below and how different this place was from the world above.

The sounds of Kyoto, of the modern world, had faded away, leaving behind only the sound of the wind and those who breathed it in. Around him, Shinji could feel trickles of prana, streams of it, almost…dancing as it played over him, touched him, reached into his very soul – and welcomed him.

“It feels odd, doesn’t it, Matou?” his companion noted, though she seemed to be used to this. She probably was too, given that she had been familiar with everything else along the route. “After all, that Tree isn’t shy about getting a sense of all those who come to this place.”

Shinji blinked.

“A tree is…?”

“Yeah,” the magus affirmed, her lips curling into a smile Shinji could not interpret. “People labor under the misconception that trees and other plants cannot understand the world around them, that they harbor no curiosity, but in this case and a few others, they would be wrong.”

“…others?”

“The Seventh of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors, the Forest of Einnashe,” Aozaki Touko replied, her expression unchanging as she casually dropped the name of one of the vampiric creatures that stood as the elites among their kind. “A vampiric forest that has created its own reality marble, appearing every fifty years with a single will and purpose – to seek out the living and drain them dry. A forest said to bear a fruit that grants immortality.”


‘Immortality? Then why hasn’t anyone tried to hunt it? Maybe the Queen of the Clock Tower…’

“Ahaha, don’t set your sights on something like that fruit,” the redheaded woman noted, her smile once again almost cruel. “Every being who has gone after it has died, be they of the Church, the Association or some other organization entirely. You’d probably need something like those Mystic Eyes that are only legends.”

“What Mystic Eyes…?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, Matou.”

Shinji fell silent then, their passage marked only by the hypnotic rhythm of their steps as they made their way downwards. It would take some time, but he had no current magical abilities that would allow him to get to the city any faster - and he couldn’t access the area’s portal system without being offering some of his blood to what he thought of as the World Tree.

So walking it would be. At least it gave him more time to look – and marvel – at the city below, the clouds – clouds? Was this place tall enough for have its own weather? –and to listen to his chaperone’s ramblings, which, implied insults aside, actually contained more useful – and practical - information than anyone had bothered to teach him.

A few details about Magical Foundations, Black Magic – under which Witchcraft was categorized, a brief comparison of the efficiency of various methods of broom transport (which he had thought of as ridiculous prior to today, but apparently merited its own branch of study – which Touko herself was one of the leading experts in), and even Dead Apostles and Phantasmal Creatures.

Somehow though, between her anecdotes of her travels, observations on the world, and philosophy, he got the impression that she was…well, a fairly lonely person, without many friends – not unlike him. He knew better than to say this to her face – or to ask about the circumstances that had made her his chaperone instead of doing research at the Association, but the realization startled him all the same.

---

The better part of an hour later, the two had finally finished descending the long series of stairs to the cavern floor and were now sharing a well-worn path with the most recent creatures to come through one of the boundary portals: a giant, white-furred spider with a single parcel strapped to its back, plodding leisurely along the bone-white road towards the city in the distance and a—

Whump!

“…is that a dragon?!” Shinji burst out, his body tensing to run as his eyes flicked to the massive winged reptilian form that had just set down beside him, its leathery wings, hungry yellow eyes, and cruelly spiked tail striking terror into his heart.

Touko, for her part, just glanced at it and pulled something out of her coat. Casually, she reached out her hand towards the creature’s nose, using the snort of flame it produced to light her cigarette.

“Wyvern, actually, though some of those in the Western schools of Witchcraft have been known to call them Dragons,” she replied after a long, drawn out drag – and a puff of smoke that received a grunt of approval from the now-identified wyvern, before it took off for a portal in the distance with a fierce beat of its wings. Apparently, mahoutokoro was merely a waypoint to its final destination. “I suppose it’s hard to blame them, as it would still take 20 or so wand-witches to bring one down, but the last true Dragons linger in the east. These share their form, but lack their power.”

She seemed to shrug.

“In the West, where the Association rules, those who study witchcraft tend to be isolated from the rest of the moonlit world, so there is much they have forgotten and much they do not know. Here in the East, where they find willing partners in practitioners of Onmyoudou, they are tied into the larger magical community.”

Left unspoken was an implication that Shinji picked up on – that the creation of something like Mahoutokoro would have been impossible without the blending of the different mystic arts. It made him wonder what each was capable of – he was familiar enough with what the Matou magecraft could do in theory, but had never had a chance to study the dominant magical tradition of Japan.

Now that he looked upon the tradition’s central spot, he had to admit what it could accomplish was…impressive.

“The Association likes to call Japan a backwater because its influence isn’t as strong here,” the red-haired magus continued, losing her smile as she shook her head. She paused for a few moments, as if not certain whether to continue, but… “But then, even the Tower is barbaric in its own way.”

Shinji had nothing to say to that, though if the Association were filled with monsters like his grandfather and…this woman, he supposed she had a point.

---

After the encounter with the wyvern, they continued on in silence, with Shinji noting how they passed – and were passed by – creatures and cargos of all sorts, with the heady scents of perfumes, potions, and foreign foods all mixing together. Some seemed more mundane, like the sloths or black panthers which ambled along disdainfully as if the road belonged to them; some he had half expected – like camels with heavy bales and pots and jars, who seemed decidedly nervous in the presence of so much wildlife; and some were frankly unnerving, like the few flightless drakes hauling wagon loads of what seemed like rubble, strange black horses with draconic faces and leathery wings passing from one portal to the next, and the giant spider, which seemed almost amused as it matched the travelers’ speed.

Apparently, it wasn’t in much of a hurry.

…and hopefully it was friendly, given that its claws and fangs seemed very, very sharp, and measured about a meter long. Each.

Shinji knew that after the encounter with the Wyvern, the presence of a mere spider shouldn’t shake him, but…the Wyvern had just taken off. The spider seemed almost curious…

But he said nothing, just continuing to observe as they passed through the belt of green surrounding the city, the forest where so many magical creatures took refuge. One by one, he began to see buildings rise from the loam – some of alabaster bone white brick, some of twisted growths of wood that seemed to have sprouted, some designed in the traditional Japanese style (which grew more common the closer one came to the city), and—

The spider suddenly jerked and turned, skittering with unexpected speed off the road, its powerful frame propelling it forwards towards what looked like a vast pile of rubble – what Shinji could only think must be the remnants of some shop or other. With practiced ease, it clambered onto the pile, shaking itself free of the dust of the road as it reached the very top – and disappeared.

“…what just…”

“Oh, that was just Tharsis making a delivery,” his magus companion said, her footsteps halting as she took another long, long drag of her cigarette. “Though Toroi-kun certainly has strange tastes in landscape decoration.”

She was silent for a heartbeat, as if weighing something in her head.

“Would you like to visit, Matou?”

“Visit?” Shinji echoed, even as he looked at what he had dismissed as a pile of rubble – debris that wouldn’t look out of place in a warzone. Pieces of brick, dust, stone, wood and more were strewn about – it was like a giant had sat on a house and so thoroughly crushed it that rebuilding was impossible. At first glance, it looked as if the ruin had been picked clean, leaving behind only the rusting wreckage of what had once been something more.

Though now that he looked closer…

‘The Dust Pile.’

There was a small, brass sign that hung askew over a half-hidden tunnel, through which he could see only yawning darkness.

‘Is that…the door?’

He supposed that someone adept at bounded fields might well disguise a door in such a way. Somehow, though, he didn’t get the impression that the owner of the place welcomed company…

“The old worm sent a bit more money for your expenses than your required equipment will cost, even if you get everything new,” the redhead said, eying the place with a critical eye. “And while Toroi-kun may have odd tastes in landscape decoration, his…establishment does have a decent selection of goods.”

Shinji blinked, wondering what a shop called The Dust Pile could possibly have to offer, but didn’t refuse. Tharsis, the magus had said, naming the spider that had somehow entered the place, though there was no obvious portal for it at ground level.

‘Bounded field concealing a door? Would be the most obvious approach?’

But a blinding white flash cut off his train of thought, followed closely by a lingering, echoing booming.

And then, in what was about the last thing he’d expect of an underground city, drops of water began to fall from the sky.

In short, it began to rain, and that, more than anything else, helped to make up his mind.

“Ok, let’s go.”

---

…unsurprisingly, given everything else he’d come to see, the name of the establishment was quite deceptive. As was the place’s outer appearance, really.

On entering the shop – stooping down so that he wouldn’t hit his head on the overhanging rubble, he was relieved to find it was dry and warm. He stepped more fully into the shop, his eyes casually sweeping his surroundings – and then jerking back as he froze and stared.

…this was no bombed out pile of rubble.

This was a bookstore, perhaps the grandest he’d ever seen in his life, and here he stood in the entrance hall – a vaulted place full of books but with soaring high windows that were dark and flecked with rain.

As one who had aspired to learn the Matou craft through study alone, spending more hours of his life than he would admit in the family library, he would have known this place for what it was even with his eyes shut. After all, a place that just anyone could walk into with so many texts couldn’t be a library.

Well, not a mage’s library.

The hush of it was enough; the smell, the heavy spicy aroma of slowly, imperceptibly decomposing leather and paper, of hundreds of tons of dry ink.

Not a centimeter went unused – the walls themselves were bookshelves, and every meter of every shelf was full. Creamy spines, leather spines, knobby and ribbed spines, jacketed and bare, gilded and plain, blank spines and spines crammed with text and ornament. Some were as thin as magazines, some were wider than they were tall.

In three or four places, perhaps, a book had been taken down and the one next to it was left slightly aslant, leaning its head against its fellow, as if in silent mourning for its neighbor.

But even the beams and buttresses further into the store – which seemed almost alive - had been fitted with shelves – rows and arches and fans of books.

He didn’t recognize the titles of most of the tomes here, could not even read most of the languages, but somehow it didn’t matter. Here, in the last place he’d expected, he felt at home.

Hesitantly, reverently, Matou Shinji took a step forward, thinking that he could almost feel the age of this place, the sheer weight of knowledge gathered in one room. At the edge of his consciousness, he could almost hear whispers from all around him. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but maybe if he listened closer, concentrated more closely he—

“I wouldn’t listen too closely if I were you,” a voice broke in. Dressed in a double-breasted navy blue dress jacket and slacks reminiscent of the centuries-old uniform of some European power, the speaker was a small fellow who seemed much too young to be in a place like this. To Shinji’s eyes, he barely seemed out of his teens, with the youth’s green-blue eyes shaped like those of a cat, mop of unruly blond hair, and face set in a mask of annoyance not doing anything to counter that effect. “Words have power, you know. And sometimes, if you hear their siren song and seek them before you are ready – they’ll consume you.”

“Toroi-kun, don’t go scaring the boy,” Aozaki Touko interrupted, making her presence known as she stepped fully into the store, now clad in her orange trenchcoat. “Why, he was surprised enough seeing Tharsis on the road.”

“Oh, it’s you,” the shopkeeper said tonelessly, his expression going perfectly slack. “What do you want, Aozaki?”

“Any luck on finding that first edition of Burroughs’ Princess of Mars?” the magus countered, a cruel little smile stealing over her lips. “As I recall, it was the only book that ever eluded you.”

The shopkeeper’s face soured.

“No. And certainly not one that was signed,” he all but spat. “What use is it, gathering so much power, so much knowledge, if I can’t get the one book I…” He broke off, looking at Touko appraisingly, as if hoping – but too afraid to hope. “Have you…have you found one?”

His words came out in a hush as he swallowed nervously.

“No.”

“I see,” the shopkeeper replied flatly. “You must have been too busy looking for other junk to buy.”

“Ara, Surein Toroi-kun, I don’t judge your hobbies, and you don’t judge mine.”

“…fine,” the youth grumbled, shaking off the disappointment as if he’d done so many times over. “So how can I help you, Aozaki? Or do you want something for the boy? Granted, having a young plaything is something I expect more from—“

“Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence,” Touko warned, as the temperature in the room seemed to drop like a rock. Indeed, Shinji could see frost beginning to form—

“Enough. Please, the books!” the shopkeeper pleaded, his expression panicked as he threw up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, forgot that was a touchy subject. I don’t spend much time around people.”

“Obviously,” the sister to the True Magician acknowledged coldly, holding him in place for a moment more with her stare, before letting him go. “Don’t forget again.”

“…ah, of course,” the shopkeeper said, carefully schooling his features back to neutrality as he turned to Shinji. “So what can I do for you, young master?”

“I believe Matou would be interested in a book.”

“…I doubted it would be otherwise, but can you be more specific?”

The youth who apparently was the “Toroi-kun” Touko had mentioned gestured at the books all around them. Somehow, Shinji didn’t think he was the type who liked to be teased – and that just made it more fun for his chaperone.

Scary woman, that.

“Why don’t you look him over and see what you think might be best?” the Aokzai replied, with Shinji not quite liking the sound of that.

…an intuition that did not prove to be wrong as the youth moved closer, his eyes taking on an unearthly shade of blue.

“What the— ”

“Don’t be alarmed, Matou,” his chaperone commented, her voice frank and reassuring in its calmness. “Toroi-kun is simply gauging your potential so he can make recommendations. This is, after all, his shop.”

“Gauging my potential?” Shinji echoed, still fairly uncomfortable as the youth studied him as if he were a specimen in a laboratory.

“Don’t fidget. That makes it harder,” the shopkeeper murmured, his voice taking on a somewhat sibilant hiss as his examination continued.

“His Eyes allow him to see the unseen – in this case, the potential one has to actualize mysteries of the world, and the channels they have available.”

“Magus lineage – but no circuits? Curious,” the blond muttered, frowning as he brought a finger to the corner of his eyes. “But…ah. A magic core. Largely undeveloped. And traces of—hmm. Witchcraft, then.” He met Shinji’s eyes for a second, expression curious. “Mahoutokoro?”

“No,” Shinji replied nervously, licking his suddenly dry lips. “Hogwarts.”

“…I see,” was all the youth said. “First year, then?”

Shinji could only nod.

That seemed to conclude the examination, as Toroi Surein straightened, his eyes dulling back to their more mundane blue-green. With a crook of his finger, he beckoned the boy to follow, and Shinji complied.

This was the other’s domain, after all, and to refuse a magus in his workshop was akin to a declaration of war – that much he had learned. He didn’t know what the relationship was between the shopkeeper and his chaperone was, but even if the rules didn’t quite apply to them, they would to him, since he was a stranger here.

One thing was sure – now that he had come here, seen the wonders that magic could accomplish, he would do anything to keep it.

Now in his element, the proprietor of the shop moved between the shelves with ease, selecting a tome from one shelf, another from one of the buttresses, and summoning two to his hands in a casual display of power that left Shinji envious as he moved to the counter.

“After what I’ve seen of you, these four seem most appropriate,” the blond said quietly, placing the titles on the table and spreading them out so Shinji could see each one.

The first was a thick, squat volume bound in rough black leather, with Occlumency: The Art of Memory and Mind inscribed on the spine in thin silver lettering.

“Your heritage is that of a magus’, so you know the value of secrets,” the blond noted, tapping the book’s cover. “But the defenses of your mind are as of yet undeveloped, and a skilled…what do they call them…legilimens could see into your thoughts. Still, they’re rare enough that I cannot say this is your only option. Simply a wise one.”

The second, A Practical Primer to Elemental Spells, was a slim plum-colored volume bound in velvet, with the title embossed in gold.

“Of course, given that you will be studying Witchcraft and Black Magic, perhaps you may be more interested in learning spells. In any foundation, knowing the power of the elements can be quite useful, and this does contain a basic introduction to runecraft, so you may not always need your wand.”

The third looked…blank. A featureless black cover. Cream coloured pages that seemed untouched. Shinji looked between the book and the shopkeeper, wondering if there had been some mistake, until the shopkeeper muttered Aparecium tessera Aseira and the title appeared.

‘Becoming a Shadow: The Arte of Concealment and Misdirection’

“Now this is a volume I think you would enjoy,” Surein related almost conspiratorially. “How to conceal not only writing, but yourself – and how to defeat the invisibility of others. How to be unheard, unseen, and to know what lies around you. Alas, it is a more…advanced tome, than the others, but even so…”

And then he set down the last book, a cream-colored volume plainer than all the rest – a paperback, even. Yet it was this book, with its simple black ink that Shinji was most drawn to, as there was power in the tome.

Of Ofuda and Origami: Principles of Onmyoudou for Witches.

Even Shinji, inexperienced as he was, could feel a subtle power in the paper and ink, like knowledge itself begging to be read, to be released.

“Now this…this so far is the only one of its kind - a proof copy of a book soon to be published,” Surein noted, his fingers caressing the cover almost…lovingly. “One of mine, in fact. How something so common as paper and ink can be used for western spells, how shikigami can be made, wards, and more, simplified, of course. Few have the aptitude for it, and there is much you would need to unlearn before you can master it, but…perhaps you will manage. Now then, young master, choose.”

The four books were spread before Shinji – each of them tempting him beyond measure. To protect his mind, to gain power, to become a shadow – all these were potent, potent things, but…he recalled what Touko had said about practitioners in the west having forgotten much, implying that only with outside knowledge could something as magnificent as this place be built.

And if there was anything Matou Shinji desired, it was to become great. To be the very best, surpassing even the legends.

“This one,” he heard himself saying, as his hand moved towards the last volume – the one on Onmyoudou. “Please.”

Toroi Surein smiled faintly at that, seeming genuinely happy for the first time since Shinji and Touko had walked into his shop.

“I thought you might choose that,” the youth noted, dismissing the other volumes to their designated spots on the shelves with a wave of his hand, as he took thick brown wrapping paper and lovingly wrapped up the Onmyoudou book. Then, he turned to Shinji’s chaperone, who had been watching all this with amusement. “There is of course, the matter of payment…”

He let his words hang, given that Aozaki Touko was so often short on money, but his eyes bulged as she withdrew a small orb glowing with inner power from her coat and tossed it over to him.

In his shock, he barely managed to catch it with his free hand.

“I assume you have change?” she asked drily, knowing full well that he did.

He studied it for a second, making sure it was genuine – feeling the power inside it with a smile.

“I assume you want that in the usual currency used by Mahoutokoro?”

A simple nod was all the answer he got, and so he went to the old, needlessly complicated register on the counter, slotting in the orb and placing the book on the scale, as a handful of small glowing beads was released into the change bowl.

The beads he placed in a small, moleskin bag, which he handed to the Aozaki magus, while the book he handed to Matou Shinji, who took it in his free hand.

“Thank you for patronizing The Dust Pile,” he said brusquely, bowing just enough to not be considered rude. “Please. Don’t come again.”

With that, he shuffled off, one of the bookshelves swinging open for him, offering a glimpse of luxuriously appointed quarters behind them before it closed with a muffled boom.
“Well, Matou, that’s our cue to go. Next stop, your wand.”

---

By the time they got outside, the rain had stopped, leaving behind the pleasant scent of petrichor – the scent of rain on dry earth. Fortunately, the road seemed to be enchanted to not become muddy or slick, which Shinji appreciated, as he now had something in each hand, neither of which he wanted to drop.

He’d had to hand his chaperone his reply to the Hogwarts letter, though thankfully she hadn’t asked too many questions. As soon as he could though, he wanted to send that off – and get his wand, the proof that he was worth something after all.

…the minor thought that he wanted to be rid of the parcel from his grandfather was nowhere close to the front of his mind, though he did wonder what was in it.

It seemed they were soon to find out though, as they entered the city proper, with its streets lined with what seemed like giant cherry trees – though these were all dwarfed by the gargantuan specimen in the center.

They took one small detour at an Owlery, where the Hogwarts reply was sent off at last – much to Shinji’s relief, and then proceeded without delay towards the central tree – the hub of the city.

As they progressed through Mahoutokoro, Shinji wondered if he had been thrown back in time – or into some fantasy world – so many of the buildings were built around or into trees, half-grown half-made. Traditional Japanese architecture blended with a Tolkeinesque sensibility, in a sense.

And yet so much of the familiar remained.

A busy market square, where vendors and suppliers without a shop of their own came to do business, purporting to have the freshest, most valuable ingredients from all around the world.

Streets and alleyways down which shops seemed to specialize in one art or discipline.

Restaurants offering exquisite and exotic cuisines – some of which even claimed to permanently increase one’s strength or intelligence – for a price.

Even a gift shop for first time visitors and magical tourists.

It was all Shinji could do not to laugh at that last one, though he supposed it made sense, given the many foreigners he’d seen around, with blonde, red, even pink or violet hair. He hadn’t known there were so many practitioners of the mystic arts in the world, and yet so many were gathered in this one place.

It was...humbling.

And he wanted nothing more to be one of them – to one day be the greatest of them.

Through seas of people, throngs of creatures, piles of merchandise they navigated, closer and close to the giant cherry tree, until at last they reached the beginnings of its roots and stopped.

Shinji was confused.

“Weren’t we going to get a wand?” he asked, looking around at what seemed like emptiness, and recalling that they had passed a number of wand sellers in the city. Here, there was just the tree and its roots in the center of the city…

“Touch the root, Matou,” was all his chaperone said, and so he did. Handing the Onmyoudou book over to the Aozaki, he knelt down and gingerly placed his palm on the root.

Pain.

The world went white.

In that instant, fire burned, molten power surging through his veins and into his soul, filling him, every part of him, judging him – his past, his present, his future, looking into the very heart of his being, with nothing kept secret. His dreams, his fears, his worries, his hopes, every last thing was examined; every last thing was weighed.

He could feel it.

Years. Hundreds. Thousands of years. Whispers. Souls. Power. Memories.

Those who had once been.

Those who had tied themselves to this place.

Those who had found a place where they belonged.

And they…welcomed him among their number.

Asked him to join them, to give of himself that this place might linger for generations to come.

To this, Shinji could only nod.

‘Welcome, child,’ he thought he heard, before the pain withdrew, the fire ceased, the world returned – but not as it was.

Where there had been only empty space, he could now see old, old shops, grown from the tree itself, and familiars making their way into this holiest of holies. And in front of where he was kneeling, just off to the side, was a door, over which was inscribed the words “Root of the Sky.”

“This is it,” the Aozaki voiced. “The shop where your wand will be crafted.”

Somewhat unsteadily, Shinji rose to his feet, noting that his chaperone had said nothing about this being a wand shop.

‘Does this shop sell more than wands then?’

And indeed they did, or so it seemed as he entered the door – stooping again – and was surrounded by Mystic Codes, ofuda, and more. There were no books, certainly, but almost any other kind of thaumaturgical paraphernalia – Eastern or Western - could be found here.

Shinji was getting the sense that this might not be where he wanted to pick up his other equipment, as this place seemed…out of his price range.

“Welcome to the Root of the Sky,” a cheery voice greeted from behind the counter. Following it, Shinji blinked as he saw a girl dressed in the traditional attire of a shrine maiden: a long, red, slightly pleated skirt tied with a bow, a white haori and white ribbons in her hair.

The girl herself was about Touko’s height, with long, loose brown-black hair and eyes the color of dried blood.

“Hijiri. Matsuo Hijiri,” she said, by way of introduction. “I am the proprietor of this shop and the maiden who guards the Tree, the keeper of the boundary and ways.”

“…any relation to Matsuo Bassho?” Shinji queried. He had to ask. After all, the work of the haiku master was well known around the world, and even he had read some of the man’s travelogues.

“Descended from him, yes,” the young woman acknowledged, an enigmatic smile adorning her face as her eyes noted the parcel he held. “Is there an item you desire?”

“Matou is here to have a custom-crafted wand,” Aozaki Touko replied as she made her way through the door. “And hello, Hijiri.”

“Back so soon, Touko?” the miko greeted half-chidingly. “I’m surprised to see you here after how the last item you bought. Did you come into a new bit of income?”

Touko for her part just gestured to the boy she was chaperoning.

“Ah, an escort mission,” the shrine maiden noted with a quirky smile. “At least it isn’t one where you have to defend a NPC. You do horribly at those.”

“…point,” Touko noted, walking up and placing the sack of glowing beads on the store counter. “Matou, your parcel.”

Shinji did as directed, setting down the box with a heavy thud.

“Oho? Let us see what is inside then,” the shrine maiden noted with a hint of amusement, delicate white fingers deftly unwrapping the box to expose – “Oh my.”

—a blackened, immobile Crest Worm.

“This is certainly different than the usual ingredients I am given to craft with,” she noted drily, eying the contents of the box as if it were a somewhat dangerous substance – which it well might be. “Kappa hair, wyvern heart-string, tengu feather I see much of. Even oni horn or whisker. But this…”

“You can do it though,” Touko replied in much the same tone. “You’ve worked with more…interesting things.”

“Well, yes. Let us find a wood that will work to pair this with then,” the shrine maiden said quietly, motioning for the Matou boy to come closer and touch the box.


He didn’t know what he expected – but it wasn’t for her to cover his hand with hers. Smooth, warm, powerful, as reality fell away.

“He seeks a wand, a path, a purpose
Rotten root but strong wood
A twin? No? Death? No. Ashes ashes, shall not be
Understanding, no innocent
Power. Thirst. Discovery.
Birth and death, legacy
Appearance and truth, sacrifice?
Salvation or destruction?
Ephemeral, the choice.”

…he didn’t know how long he had been out, what he had been doing, or how long, only that he had lost himself somehow. What was it he wanted above all else? What was it he wanted to become?

“Beginnings. Wood of the world?
Mahoutokoro? Ah…”

And then everything came back in a rush, with Shinji flinching as reality came crashing down around him in its solidity, nearly stumbling back. He would have, too, if his chaperone had not steadied him.

What had just happened? The last thing he remembered was that the shopkeeper had touched him, and then…

He looked over at her to see her holding a small branch in her hands as she looked down at the inert worm in its glass container.

“Do you know, Matou Shinji, this was a piece of Mahoutokoro’s great cherry tree – the one you touched earlier today?” Matsuo Hijiri murmured, her eyes shifting to study him intently, though her awareness seemed far away. “Between this and the core, you are destined for odd things. Things that will test you, shape you, and more. This core – the power of curses, of domination; this wood, ageless, with the recollections of thousands within it. Darkness to fight darkness. A potter. And a thief. Curious. But at least…you will not be ordinary.”

Shinji could only swallow at those words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest at those words, words said in a terrible, terrible voice that spoke of finality, inevitability, and who knew what else.

What was she seeing?

What was his fate?

What was…

And then there was silence.

Shinji just stood there for some time, waiting for the shopkeeper to continue, but she did not. She took a few moments to gather herself, then nodded grimly.

“Come back in three hours, Matou Shinji, and not before,” she said, taking the box and the branch both. “Your wand will be ready then.”

---

OOC then:

So, while Shinji is out shopping for his required materials/equipment, he'll have some choices to make. First of all, will he want new goods or used goods? Secondly, if he wishes for used goods, what else might he want to buy?

1. New Goods; or
2. Used Goods and

a. A spare wand
b. A [elemental] catalyst (will allow Shinji to cast spells aligned with a certain element - assuming he has learned the spell)
c. Robe upgrades
d. A pet/familiar
e. A unique tome

[gesalt]

2e: Used goods + tome

[EnigmaticFellow]

[X] New Goods

We need to make a good impression, and doing that with used materials will be quite a bit hard. Especially since Shinji wants to ride on his noble heritage.

[Nanao-kun]

Honestly not sure what to choose.

Hmm.

[X] New Goods

[Xamusel]

New goods will do Shinji good... I think.

[Sinon]

Are the used goods very noticeable? Like at first glance you can say they're second hand.