HP: Spirit Talker

POV Miyazaki Clan Elder

— Report. — An old, full-bodied woman in an expensive kimono tossed her head with feigned indifference.

— Shark! — The middle-aged man, the head of the Mori clan, bowed once more. — The boy has an amazing talent, not even a talent — an artist's gift! — The man spoke fervently. — He fell into a trance and managed to create a masterpiece — "A Window to Another World", and then, while he was still recovering, he painted the entire house with amazingly beautiful paintings, no worse than the best masters of the brush. Even without special training, he is able to go into a trance and create great things. I believe he should be trained by a master of the brush, his gift can be cemented into a legacy! We can't miss this opportunity! — The man almost shouted, pushing himself forward with burning eyes.

The old woman grimaced like she had a toothache and turned away even more, even though she was sitting half-turned. She was not happy about what she had heard, and the man and woman sitting in front of her were irritating, which the old woman did not try to hide. But now was not the time to spit venom, it would take some time, just a few minutes.

— Mayuri-san, do you have anything to say? Is there anything you'd like to add?

— Arata-kun is doing very well in his studies. — The woman spoke in a calm voice, showing no emotion, and it was impossible to read anything on her face — a porcelain mask. — Everything agreed upon is being taught in full, and the boy shows no problems with mastery in practice. It should be noted that the sword master assigned to the boy does not fulfill his duties and does not respond to the words. I think he should repay the unjustified trust and wasted time.

The old woman listened attentively, and when she heard the last words, something evil flashed in her eyes, reflecting her attitude towards what she had heard.

— We'll take care of this bum, don't worry. — The old woman waved her hand nonchalantly, but the younger woman bowed low from her seated position. — What can one say about his long absences? — The squint again, the coldness creeping in.

— Observers report that the boy has made a few small invocations to the spirits, but spends most of his time in deep meditation.

— Results?

— No change at all on the islands. The magical background and energy levels are within natural norms. The spirit invocations had no effect on the world. I believe it was a training exercise, a test of one's powers.

— That's probably true, — the old woman said, looking out to sea. — But the observation continues. Is that all?

— Yes, Madam Elder. — Mori Mayuri bowed again.

— And what about the boy's training? — The man couldn't stand it.

Mori Goro met the displeased look of the elder, but waited for an answer. Grinning, the old woman replied.

— The new branch of the Miyazaki clan does not need the gift of an artist, its destiny is to be a blade, a weapon in the hands of the clan. Is that clear to you, Goro-kun? — The old woman gave the man a hard, expectant look, and he had no choice but to bow low in agreement with the clan's decision. — Well, you can be free until nightfall, when the time of the ritual comes, you will be called. — and the elder turned away, signaling that the audience was over.

Bowing once more, the couple left the large room.

***

POV Sora Hoshino

The dungeons were fascinating, a completely different experience than being in the sky (the Brothers had shown me how to fly in the sky) or on the ground. I had not yet had time to be underwater, but that thought could be put off for the future, but that is not what this is about. It is about the sullen silence, pressurizing, shocking in its power.

Each new meter, snatched from the claws of darkness by the blue light, revealed something new: amazing patterns of rock, multicolored interlacing of lines and threads, executed in the geometric correctness of straight lines and curves, the variety of shades of stone and the shine of facets polished by water and wind.

All this was beautiful, and the general atmosphere of darkness and silence only accentuated it, greedily hiding the beautiful details from the stranger's eye. There were very few of the expected stalactites and stalagmites, and only in the largest caves, which were very rare.

Mostly, the spiders made their way through narrow crevices, like cracks in the rock, going in different directions for many dozens of meters. Magic puppets prowled in the darkness, exploring hidden corners. Those who had time to acquire new additions moved more slowly, more thoroughly, exploring every crevice, trying to look everywhere. In this way, a small crack was found that revealed a view of the underground stream.

 The new devices quickly proved their worth: three spiders gathered at the crack, and within twenty minutes, with the help of acid and claws, had widened the passage sufficiently for themselves.

The pipe of the stream was an elongated oval, with marks at different heights, showing how the water had sharpened the stone. By the way, it was quite an interesting view, and one should probably think about taking cameras and video cameras with lights into these caves to record what they see.

However, the movie is not able to convey all the sensations of the deep underground. The spiders continued to explore, and after an hour, they came upon another passage that was even deeper: at one point, the water had washed a small hole into an almost perfectly round pipe of molten stone that ran from the bottom to the top.

Such an interesting sight could not be missed, and the magic puppets widened the passage again and began to descend down the stone pipe, going deeper and deeper at a slight angle. Along the way, they encountered stone bubbles, not very strong, not always spherical in shape, hollow inside. The spiders broke them easily and quickly and continued their descent until they reached a small room, ten meters in diameter.

All the surfaces showed signs of volcanic activity, such as molten rock, and in some places, entire frozen "drops" the size of a football were immediately noticeable. A few spiders went up the stone pipe to explore a direct exit to the surface, but it turned out that after about sixty meters, or a little more, the pipe is covered by a solid layer of frozen basalt, and you can pluck it for quite a long time.

There were only "drops" in the chamber, so only one spider remained in it, the rest went deeper. The remaining one was under control, and I suddenly had a strange desire to try to crack those frozen drops, which I did. To my surprise, the stone shell revealed a brilliant scattering of small stones that flashed in the blue light.

The sight strongly resembled a grenade fruit — a shell and a bunch of dense, juicy seeds inside. The spider carefully picked up the larger stone with its pincers and lifted it higher to get a better look. The dark stone shimmered with irregular facets, creating an irrational urge to pick it up.

The spider lowered its gaze back to the rest of the pebbles in the frozen blob, and the cameraman thought for a moment, then the claw lowered one of the largest stones back down, and the spider moved on to the next blob stream. A few minutes later, another spider, which had not had time to upgrade, crawled into the chamber.

Picking it up with its chelicerae and locking it in place, it moved briskly to the surface, carrying the stone it had found. The Operator waited impatiently, his hands itching to examine his find more closely, but he did not rush his creature — the doll was already moving at the acceptable limit for such conditions. All he had to do was wait.