All Purpose Negima Fanfiction Thread

“By Chauntea, I’ve never seen anyone eat so much food in so little time,” The hostess confessed as Nodoka downed the last of the ale to get it all down. “Do you not get any food where you normally live?”

“Oh, I do,” Nodoka admitted when she put the cup down. “Just… it’s not homemade food, you know? A good meal you put proper care into.”

The hostess looked a bit stumped on hearing that, then frowned. “Well, that’s hardly proper. A good home cooked meal and a cup of ale is all you need after a hard day’s work to make it a good day.”

“I personally prefer a cup of tea, but I don’t mind ale these days, either,” Nodoka chuckled briefly.

“Nah, it has to be ale. Truly satisfies you after work,” her hostess insisted. Nodoka chose not to pursue the issue.

“Well… now that I can, I have to ask… where exactly are we?”

“Ah. Knew it.” Her hostess rose up and opened the door. “This is the village of Bannockburn, over two months away from Waterdeep, if you’re from there. The village elder would like to see you too, once harvest is done for the day. I’ll fetch you a crutch.”

“Good, then I can collect my stuff in peace.” She laughed and left, leaving Nodoka alone in the house. Now she could collect the rest of her things.

Just behind the Pactio card, her 2nd most important item was a little photograph constructed from memory machines that they had back on Earth. It showed her kissing Negi-sensei at the Mahora Festival by the fireworks show. She allowed herself a little smile. One day, I’m gonna see him again.

Other items weren’t as high priced, but she had them with her for a reason. Her spellbooks and study books, for her lessons and magic, her new travel clothes which comprised of her piwafwi, a tough tunic, a mithril mail shirt, trousers, boiled leather boots and a backpack with camping utilities. Shame her leg was broken, otherwise she could have taken off later during the day after paying fair dues.

Next, and with hesitation, her weapons. The githyanki had insisted she’d carry a bladed weapon, like a shortsword, with her at all times, but she managed to defend herself stating a shortsword was a poor choice to use when camping out in the wild on the surface. So they argued her down to a machete and her knife, at minimum. She did prefer not to kill if possible, and she had been trained with staves, so she also had a quarterstaff with her.

Finally, there was the issue of her firearms. Nodoka had recently passed her exams to use them with safety and was one, and General Osyrimon wasn’t going to budge on the subject, no matter who she was, who her dad was and why she didn’t want guns.

So she just had to bring her Gishakhut Combat Rifle with her. And the weapon mods for it, as well.

And fortunately, no one in Bannockburn had had the stupidity of trying it out themselves, or someone could have gotten seriously hurt. She had put on a strap and slung over her shoulder when the hostess came back with the crutch she mentioned

“Here you go, and in time I see.” She helped Nodoka stand up and put the crutch underneath her arm. “Take it slow, we don’t want any falling down,” she said as they made for the door with a calm speed.

Nodoka had to admit she never had had a crutch before, and wheelchairs were always a more comfortable from a certain perspective. To rely on a third leg while resting your second was new to her. Set the peg forward first, then set your foot next to it and pull the rest of your body forward to equal level. Peg, foot, pull, peg, foot, pull.

She had also expected that there would a bunch of people outside the door once she stepped out. She was wrong.

There was almost nobody there. But now she had a proper look at the village. Little cottages were scattered here and there, not neatly lined up, though they looked somewhat similar to each other. There was a small palisade built around the houses with a watchtower at the gate. Someone up there spotted the two women and hailed someone outside.

“Come on, chop chop.” Nodoka noticed her hostess had walked further along than she had, so she tried her best to keep up, despite the crutch.

Through the gate, came a large man, thick as a log and arms the size of oak tree branches, holding a scythe. And then came a group of children, pulling a water barrel on a cart. They must have all been out to harvest their crops while she was resting up nice and cozy in their house and eating their food, drinking their ale.

Nodoka felt quite guilty now over what’s she’s done so far for this village. Of course, couldn’t do much anyway with a broken leg. “Ah, so you’re awake and moving now,” the grown man said.

“Somewhat,” she replied. “Though I wouldn’t have a broken leg if left alone.” The hostess confirmed the existence of her ring of regeneration. Nodoka did hide what it was designed as at the moment.

“Ah, I see. Well, what’s done is done,” he said and then they shook left handed. “My name is Little. Welcome to Bannockburn.”

Out of all the things to say, Nodoka could only focus on the one. “I honestly have trouble believing your name is actually Little.”

There was a moment of silence and then everyone except her started laughing as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. And she felt all embarrassed now with herself for saying a quite inappropriate thing.

If only she could use her piwafwi and hide in plain sight.

Nodoka didn’t even know which god allowed druids to stay in villages, but she chose not to question it too much. Her hostess was not part of the council, but she was allowed to stay anyway. And for the moment, the only woman on the council was the trader.

“We start with prayers,” the druid, an elderly man called first and they all save Nodoka clasped hands. “To Chauntea, we give praise. Our harvest maintains its bountifulness, our children are healthy and we thank our Earthmother for these gifts. May we see another harvest.”

“May we see another harvest,” the others echoed. Nodoka simply closed her eyes and nodded.

“Now,” Little began, “the council has been gathered to help settle the matter with this young lady who fell from the sky. Please state your name and occupation in front of the council.”

Here we go, Nodoka thought and took a breath first. “My name is Madivh Baenre,” she began. “I’m a wizard’s apprentice.” With good luck, her ‘surname’ wouldn’t be recognized.

“And what were you doing all the way out here?” The trader lady asked her.

“I used a scroll for teleportation,” she explained. “And I didn’t intend to come here of all places. It was an accident.”

The five had a small discussion among themselves. Then the blacksmith spoke. “Did you leave your master’s service?”

“Yes, albeit temporarily.”

“And what was the purpose of this leave?” Little asked her.

“I left because I was in desperate need of something I knew my master could not provide where we lived,” She told them. Most of them leaned in closer to her. She took that as a clue to continue. “I am in need of a patron I can agree with.”

There was a moment of silence and nearly all of them had a look that said either; “You poor thing,” or “You don’t have a patron god at all?”

“You couldn’t find one where you live?” The druid asked her.

Technically, they didn’t ask where she did live, so she could be honest. “There is a church there, but… it’s not to my tastes.”

So long as they didn’t ask her where she lived, things seemed fine.

“Where do you live, to be honest?” The militia captain asked her.

Argh! “Uh… where exactly did you say Waterdeep was? In direction, not length.”

“Due west,” Little replied almost immediately.

“Then I can say that my home lies to the north, a tenday away from Mithral Hall,” she stated. Technically true, but evasive.

“That sounds like you come from Silverymoon,” the trader stated. “Good town, full of wizards there, I hear.”

“Well, it’s close enough to Silverymoon,” Nodoka confirmed for them. “About half-a day away or so.”

The captain nodded and slouched in his seat, no doubt showing he wasn’t going to ask further questions.

Little noted that and turned to Nodoka. “You said you basically do not have a patron god. Why is that?”

“I was honestly too caught up with my studies. My master didn’t show much appreciation for church either, but at least he paid fair dues and attended vital ceremonies. I attended once. I wasn’t swept up with it.”

“Well, since we are on the subject,” the druid spoke softly, “I take it you are not very familiar with the gods in general, are you?”

“No,” Nodoka sighed. “And if you wonder why I’m curious about a patron now…” she told them about that dream she had. Their expressions were… less than enthusiastic.

“By Chauntea,” Little gasped. “You sound like you need a god, badly.”

Well, that was a sentence she never thought she’d hear. “Yes, and I don’t even know who Chauntea is.”

“She didn’t mean it,” The druid hastily spoke to the roof. “Uh, to us… Chauntea is all. No, wait, let me… let me find a way to phrase it properly…”

“I can wait,” Nodoka told him.

Little didn’t seem to have that patience. “Chauntea is the goddess of life. She teaches and shows us the way of agriculture and we look to Her in the hopes of having a bountiful harvest.”

“That is not to say that She is just a goddess of farming,” the druid managed to chime in. “She tends to us all during summer as well, and She ensures we are all healthy and strong in our years.”

Nodoka was quiet. Chauntea sounded much like a goddess she could be with. She was Good, which was a plus in her book. But…

“That sounds… pleasant. Chauntea must be one splendid deity for you,” she said quietly. “But… I can’t be expected to spend my days tending to fields and living with others. I may have to find another, I think.”

The others mumbled in a somewhat agreeing tone to that. This young girl was going places and Chauntea was rooted to the ground.

“Oh, I know,” the trader spoke up. “There is this new temple up north. Built recently and housing new deities, I hear. Could be a new pantheon or something, from what I hear from traveling merchants.”

“Ah, yes,” Little said. “We had one of their paladins come through here, didn’t we? About a month ago?” The others nodded in agreement. “Yes, they came asking for, what? Supply lines?”

That sounded like a war god. But war gods didn’t have paladins, did they?

“Yes, we were going to send them a cart full of grain there. Should be there within two days’ time. Maybe you could find someone there to help you better than us.”

Nodoka couldn’t help but smirk. “And in return, you get a wizard to protect your cart from bandits and various creatures of the forest, at least to the destination.”

“Not gonna say no to that,” the captain replied and they all laughed.

“Well, I’m packed already,” Nodoka told them. “When does the cart leave?”

Medea supposed maybe it'd be a good idea to summon a secondary Servant to assist her.

She harbored no illusions about her chances for the War; like those of pretty much any Caster, they were in the slim side. While technically a Caster could win a Grail War through enough expert planning and cunning scheming, of which she had no shortage of, it'd still be an uphill battle, especially against the Knight Classes. And they'd already been pushed against the ropes by Assassin of all Classes.

So she definitely could use some added muscle for her campaign. However, mana was a problem; Wataru-sama wouldn't hear anything about consuming souls, suctioning even more from the local Leylines was a risky gamble, and getting Wataru-sama to provide more prana to another Servant... well, not only it'd be too taxing on him, but Medea wasn't sure she liked that idea at all.

She frowned, considering her options. Barring sharing Wataru-sama himself, maybe his daughter could be properly convinced into becoming a mana supplier for the secondary Servant. Said Servant was intended to be a temporary existence and Wataru's daughter came from two magical lineages, she should be able to perform the task for at least one week, week and a half, two at most.

But of course, it wasn't like she could convince her. Hades, Wataru-sama was still reluctant to let Yuuna know Caster existed at all to begin with. She was sure the girl would never go along with any of her projects, and while normally that wouldn't be a problem for someone like her, she just couldn't resort to the simple solution of mind controlling the problem into doing her bidding this time.

Wataru-sama would never allow for that either.

"Oh, what will I do?" she lamented, hiding her face between her hands. "How am I supposed to win like this? Why won't you understand sacrifices need to be done so we don't have to sacrifice our happiness?"

The front door's bell rang. "Daaa-aaaad?" sing-sang a by now familiar voice. "It's me! I hope you won't mind I dropped by without caaa-lling!"

Just ignore her again, Caster told herself. Keep yourself silent and still, and she'll go away. That's the way Wataru-sama wants it.

But, if they were going to have a future, they couldn't stall this forever, could they? And if they couldn't... then what difference would this make?

If she was to lose him, wasn't she entitled to at least be recognized as his wife? Did she have to be cheated out of her rights once more?

Bitterly, in pain, she stood up from the table, pushing enough of her hair back as to cover most of her ears. Inwardly, she begged for his forgiveness, for his continued love, and she spoke clearly, yet somewhat stilted, "Your father's away right now. He'll be back shortly, however."

Caster could hear the soft gasp coming from the doorstep, and she felt ice gathering down in her stomach. Yet she forced herself to advance towards the door, dreading the encounter but also anticipating with something borderlining suicidal enthusiasm.

She tried to convince herself she did this for love, rather than pride.

And she only hoped she was right in that.

"But you can get in and wait for him here, if you wish so," she steeled herself, taking hold of the door's handle and twisting it around, forcing herself into a social smile for the four shocked young women now right before her. "You just have to be Yuuna-chan! Wataru's always talking about you!"

That was the first time Akira, Makie and Ako ever saw Yuuna fainting. Normally she wasn't that kind of girl.

"Something I've always wondered but always was afraid of asking," Haruna mused at some moment of their silence.

"Hmmm?" her mother prompted, in that vague and non commital way of hers.

"Once it was clear their own children wouldn't be coming, why didn't they take that as their cue for leaving? They always wanted to have children of their own, didn't they? And other than Auntie Akane picking Otaru-kun up, it's not like any of them ever thought of adopting, so..."

"Well, you know how stubborn they are," Nabiki shrugged, "and I suppose by then they thought they'd gone too far as to start backing away and starting from scratch elsewhere. I don't know, I don't like asking them on the subject. I kinda like being alive."

"Oh."

Her mother smiled, tossing some of her hair back with a casual flip of a wrist. "While I was pregnant, we were really afraid back then. Your dad went fully paranoid, he was so sure they'd try to murder me at the slightest chance they got. I always knew they were more bark than bite, though," she confidently said, puffing her chest up. "They weren't that far gone, as to try and murder a pregnant woman right before her husband, and then to pretend they could end up with him afterwards. Close, sure thing, but not that much..."

"You just said you were afraid yourself, though."

"Oh, I was afraid they'd try to kill your father," Nabiki said. "And while your Uncle Ryo had already moved on, Mousse and Kuno-chan were still in full 'Saotome Ranma, blah blah blah, you hurt Shampoo-slash-my sister and Tendo Akane-prepare to die!' mode too. Nine freaking stressing months! That's when I swore I'd never have another child. Besides," she chuckled, pinching one of Haruna's cheeks, "how could I improve upon perfection? Next to a daughter who can marry us into the royal house ruling most of the galaxy, who else could ever compare...?"

"Mommy!" Haruna cooed, hugging her.

"My true and only love!" Nabiki cooed back, warmly hugging her back.

And hugging her monetary worth in the proccess, of course.