> "Oh? I don't know much about her, so anything to fill in the gaps would be great."
> Saigyouji points to a large map on the wall to your right. It is beautifully drawn and intricately detailed, showing the entirety of Creation, from the island nations far in the West all the way to the deep jungles of the East. Something is strange about this map - it shows far more territory, nearly a third more in every compass direction than the maps Youki showed you.
> "I only know this second-hand, from some of the soldiers who fought under your mother's command. You see, there was a time when Creation was shrinking! A strange attack eroded its borders with every day, every hour. It was then that your mother, along with a group of the mightiest of the Celestial Chosen arrayed a force unlike any other against this attack. She herself led but a tiny fraction in one small territory, but her contribution was the greatest."
> "For a brief moment, she disappeared from Creation entirely, wielding unique weapons suited to combat the strange erosion. I hear that, in the place she went to, she encountered a strange being that lived on stories, played in them like a child would in a sand pit, and wielded these very stories as weapons. Your mother fought back. She learned to fight with story too, using her own past to defeat this strange enemy."
> "I do not know what happened afterwards, but the erosion was halted and, in some places, even driven back."
> Saigyouji makes a gesture to someone behind you, and a servant walks into the room, holding a lacquered box.
> "I wish to present to you the first of the artifacts that are yours by right, bequeathed by the Celestial Chosen Scent-of-Patchouli-and-Lavender, a scientist who worked closely with your mother."
> The servant kneels down and opens the box. Inside are four ... cards? As if dozens of thin metallic strands - pure oristeel, you can tell - have been elaborately woven into flat rectangles. The strands slowly move and weave by themselves, occasionally making near-images on the card faces, but they never remain still for long enough for the images to form something recognizable.
> "The weapons your mother wielded were called Spell-Spheres, and since, I am told, they have been refined and perfected. Their workings are beyond me, I am afraid."
> A small note is affixed inside the lid of the box. It reads:
>
Use these Spell-Cards when you find yourself in a story you wish to be no part of.
