Most of the time I simply fell asleep as soon as I stopped moving. Other times Master talked with me about various ways to clean up my mana usage, giving pointers an how to be more efficient.
Master was quite happy with my rapid development. I released my staff, letting it fade away and summoned a glass, using my power to fill it with water and drinking deeply as I listened. This is the magic that brings the stories to life. Unfortunately, there is little we can do to affect it.
It is fickle and yet unmovable. It cannot be changed, though it can be diverted or even subverted with the right situation. The power of Story Magic is that it seeks out things and people that have certain situations happen that allows for events to unfold a certain way, and then it begins to pressure such things to begin the stories it knows to happen. Particularly when those stories feature characters whose names are mere nicknames instead of real ones.
They are not actual names but generalizations that the Story Magic can then apply to anyone who fits the description and circumstances. In good news, this means that as long as one knows how to find the story one can be prepared to seal it away. But in bad news, it means that the story must progress to a certain point so that the story Magic is fully invested in these actors of its tale that it cannot pull away and find a different set of similar circumstances to start over with telling the story. Master shook his head.
Each story must be sealed separately, and there is a chance that people in this world are also from the real one as well. I lowered my head again in apology, I suppose I really should have thought a little more about that when I had started this huge mess. Grimm and Aesop have fairly simple tales to work with and should be easy to gather them up quickly.
I made a slight face. Western Fairy tales were not my forte by any means. I could name a couple that might be simple, but his point was made and I had to acquiesce to it, albeit grudgingly.
There were too many that dealt with beings of high power or spirits that might be too hard to seal on the first try. Though there was something we first needed to do. I stood there dumbfounded as an opening suddenly appeared, looking between master and the open gateway, doing a double take and then a triple.
We can freely travel between time and locations to a small extent to ensure we can be where we need to be. Well, I guess it would be too much of a cheat if that was possible. It might have been useful, but on the other hand probably way too confusing to use and remember being in too many places at once. I was kind of getting a headache thinking about it so I quickly stopped.
The Gingerbread Man is getting ready to come to life here. We can also work on teaching ye how to sense and get a feel for the power of Story Magic. At the end of it all, the girl would return to the home she had parted from. Her father had awaited her there, and could not tell if it was really her, as she had changed too much. The sad girl begged him to remember, reminding him of a promise they had exchanged in the past — to try crossing the lake close to their house by walking on the decayed leaves that fell on the water.
The girl from the story is vivacious and endearingly innocent. Oscar had Violet put on clothes that imitated his main character and requested her to play around a little at the lakeshore.
He had already made her do cleaning, laundry and other house chores, and on top of it, asked for such a favor. It was as if she was a factotum. If you put on a one-piece, surely An Auto-Memories Doll. I am not your wife or concubine. Nor can I become a replacement. Her face seemed to show that her conscience was conflicted. During these few days, Oscar had become able to understand one thin g about her. If you want a reward, I can give you anything. I can pay double your original price. This story is really precious to me. She could be the type that became weak when pressured.
Oscar then left behind his life of confinement, went out on his own and bought fancy clothes and an umbrella for Violet. The outfit was a white lace blouse with a ribbon belt over a blue one-piece. The umbrella was cyan and white-stripped, abundant in frills. Do they not match your tastes? Thinking like that, she faintly resembled a little girl, regardless of her adult-like appearance.
While Violet still had not changed her mind, once Oscar was done shopping, he wasted no time in asking her to get changed. It was late afternoon, a bit cloudy outside. It did not seem like it would rain, but the atmosphere implied so. Oscar was the one to go out first. He sat on a wooden chair in the vicinity of the lake, smoking a pipe.
Because he had somewhat taken care of himself and not smoked since she had arrived, the feeling of the smoke steeping through his belly was diffused. A few minutes of blown smoke floating in the air ensued.
T hen, the front door with increasingly worse rattling was opened with a creaking sound. He swallowed back a gasp, as dumbfounded as the first time he had seen Violet. She was too gorgeous with her hair down — a beauty that stole the moment of appreciation of everything else. The hair that had once been braided was leniently spread and slightly curled at the ends. It was fairly longer than he had imagined. And, most important of all Had she come to show him her dressed-up form?
As he wondered about that, warmth welled in his chest. Eh, but Master, is that really the kind of setting you wanted to write? Rather than merely walking around like this, even if just for a few seconds, it would be better if I actually did run across the lake. Master, leave it to me. The one standing in front of him was the total opposite of his daughter. Despite possessing the same golden hair, her pupils lacked that sweet glow.
Violet leaned the closed umbrella against her shoulder while gripping it tightly. She stood at a broad distance from the lake, staring at it as though examining the water surface.
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Dyed in the withering colors of autumn, fallen leaves were afloat on it. The wind was unstable, blowing and stopping, blowing and stopping. As she steadily stepped backwards into the ground, she glanced at Oscar with a tiny smile. Such speed was like the wind itself. Before stepping onto the lake, the ever-so-fast Auto-Memories Doll firmly kicked the earth.
The impact was strong enough to shake the soil. Her tough legs made real the possibility of jumping a frightening height. It looked as though she was about to climb the stairway to heaven. From then on, everything seemed to have happened in slow motion. Reaching the critical point, Violet raised the umbrella she had taken with her and opened it flashily.
It was like a blooming flower. Her skirt and umbrella bulged softly in the air, her petticoat sticking out. Her long knit-up boots gently stepped onto the decayed leaves floating about the water surface. That one moment. That one second. That one picture. A girl with a swinging umbrella and a fluttering skirt, stepping onto the surface of a lake, just like a sorceress.
The words of his daughter from the day her heartbeats had stopped came back to him. I wanted to continue being called by you, a hundred more times even. You, with that voice, would innocently entertain me.
The maximum range of the leap depended on the user's overall battle power while leaving a mirror image from my repetitive actions. With the help of her friends, Sawako finds courage to ask her parents to attend. I a baptized him first, and afterwards he baptized me—after which I laid my hands upon his head and ordained him to the Aaronic Priesthood, and afterwards he laid his hands on me and ordained me to the same Priesthood—for so we were commanded. Anime News Network. Theme Select Dark Light.
You had said that, had you not?