Overwhelming Presence

As the days pass though, the urge gets weaker and weaker. And on the three week anniversary of getting the quest, I am able to take me first tentative steps in my new body.

Just because I can take a few steps doesn't mean I have mastered it though. I need to be able to do more than a few before falling over, and rely more on my own muscles than momentum. I start setting myself little goal points that I have to walk to. From the stairs to the family room. From the comfortable couch to the little go board set up near the front awning. From the kitchen to wherever Mom happens to be.

And then finally, I go an entire day on my feet without falling down once. The bugles sound in my ears.

[ YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE QUEST THESE FEET ARE MADE FOR WALKING! WALKING SKILL MASTERED! YOU MAY NOW UPGRADE YOUR PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES BY CONSULTING YOUR JOURNAL! ]

The suddenness of the prompt almost knocks me over. Only a nearby Tokei putting a steadying hand on my shoulder keeps me upright. I glance up at him, confused. The man's barely interacted with me at all since I met him. The closest he's come to it before right now is not-laughing at my failures. Catching me is a touch out of character for him.

Wait. Didn't the quest reward for 'These Feet Are Made For Walking' promise a relationship boost with Tokei?

I hurriedly pull up my journal and consult my relationship web. Sure enough, the line leading from Tokei to me has changed from 'watchful disdain' to 'amused disdain/bare tolerance'.

… huh. That's not a huge change. But I'll take it.

The other interesting part is the quest reward: a boost to my physical attributes and the ability to upgrade them further- once I figure out how to do that, of course. A glance at my journal shows that indeed, my physical attributes have climbed to the enormous level of… two. My others remain at one.

Daisuke wonder if that's good. What's the ceiling on these attributes? Do they go up to ten? Twenty? Higher? And-

I want to puzzle over my attributes more. I want to figure out more about my character sheet in general. I want to learn why my skills are empty, what feats are, glance over the seemingly gargantuan achievement list, and do the dozens of other things that I'm sure are going to get tutorialized soon.

But I can't.

Because at that instant, a presence presses down on him.

It is drives the air from his lungs simply by existing, sending him crumbling to the floor. It makes tears stream from his eyes, snot run from his nose, and his heart beat loudly in his ears.

My fingers claw at the hardwood below me as I scratch for something, anything to make it stop. It is overwhelming. It is horrifying. It is terror incarnate and it makes me want to swallow my own tongue.

I barely able to turn my head towards the house's front. In the beautiful floor to ceiling windows, I see people panicking on the streets, running for their homes. Men and women dash every which way, trying to get away. A few, scarred and clad in green, run the other direction, towards what I can only assume is the source of the terror.

Off in the distance, I hear a bestial roar, and the sound of explosions. And in a part of my mind that is too terrified to be scared, I realize what is happening:

Kyuubi.

I don't know how long I lay on the floor, trembling, but it feels like an eternity. After who knows how long, Tokei finds me and scoops me up in arms that feel like they're made of iron. He carries me up the stairs in three large steps, depositing me on Mom's lap. Mom clutches me close, hugging me in a tight grip that's as much for her as it is for me.

Tokei doesn't move for a long moment. Finally, he nods deeply. "I must go assist," he gravels out. "As per Lord Imagawa's contract with Konoha."

Mom stiffens beneath me. "No," she commands. "You cannot. I know your orders, and you are directed to protect us first and foremost-"

"-and to aid the village against anythreat that may also endanger the two of you. This certainly counts. I will lock the door behind me."

And that is the end of the discussion. Tokei turns and leaves, strapping a sword to his belt and slamming the door behind him in one fluid motion.

Mom doesn't let me go the entire night- and I am grateful for it. my stomach, my sleep, my plans, they're all forgotten as Kyuubi's overwhelming aura pounds into the village like a cloud of noxious rage.

But hours and a year later, the aura cuts off, as if it was darkness that's been banished with the flick of a light switch. Mom finally lets me go, her arms turning boneless with the release of stress. It's over. Finally, blessedly over.

Tokei returns with the light of dawn. His armor is scarred, his face is soot-stained, and his eyebrows singed, but he is whole. And for some reason, though he's a hardass who doesn't like me or my mother for reasons I can only guess at, my relieved.

With the Kyuubi attack over I had thought that everything would just proceed as normal; like a video game interrupted by a cut scene. Sure, after the scene is over I'm pressed to deal with it immediately, but everyone knows I should look around the room first, eat some food, and break every pot in the area just in case. That's kind of what I expected. But no. The weirdness has only just begun.

The weirdness takes the form of a carriage that pulls up in front of our house days later. It is no simple traveler's vehicle like the wagon me and Mom rode in on; it's a thing of art. Every aspect of it, from the carpentry on the beams to the fabric of the canopy, is immaculate. Even the horses that pull it look practically royal, like creatures out of a fable.

Tokei takes one look at the carriage and drops to a knee. He doesn't rise until the door opens itself, revealing four armored samurai with faces of stone. They survey the entrance room as if it's going to attack them at any moment. When the blank walls and shoe racks do nothing outwardly hostile, one gives a nod and glances over his shoulder.

Two more people walk back into our home. One is a smaller woman, rounded around the stomach, with tiny glasses perched on her nose. Behind her fat and gray hair, her face is covered in smile lines, and she looks like she would be the greatest grandmother in the world. The other is a man, tall, handsome, with long hair held back via ornate combs. His face is angular, his features sharp, and his aura that of a man used to being obeyed.

It's not an impression that's broken by Tokei. My… guardian?… doesn't move, but somehow manages to convey his kneeling directly at the man. The newcomer nods, and continues his surveillance. His eyes land on me and widen slightly.

"Is this," he asks, voice a rumbling baritone, "the child?"

Tokei nods instantly. "Yes, my lord. This is Manami's issue."

The newcomer's eyes fix on me. I get the sense that I am being studied and dissected, weighed and measured. "Does he speak yet?"

"No, my lord. He walks, but there is not speech yet."

A nod from the newcomer is the response. "Very well. Where is Manami?"

"She is taking her afternoon respite in one of the bedrooms on the upper story. I would be happy to guide you if you so-"

"Unnecessary," the man says. "Take the child from the house. We should not be more than a couple hours. Afterwards, you will return, and give me a full briefing."

"Yes sir," Tokei replies without a shred of hesitation. He reaches down and scoops me up again. "We will be on our way."

The old woman looks at the two of us. "Oh, I should come too!" she coos. "Babies are so cute!"

The man considers this for a second. "Very well. Take Umo with you. Give her a tour of what you can. I will send a runner to you when we are ready for you."

As the words leave his mouth, a scrawl begins to sound in my ears.

[ "In 'Elemental', there are some paths that are exclusive. It is impossible to see everything at once- taking some actions render others impossible to attain. These can lead to entire quest lines, relationships, or abilities being locked off. Please keep that in mind when making branching choices." ]

… the game wouldn't have said that right now, unless this was one of those choices.