[Which means-- oh, lord, where did he put the book? Never mind knowing what to do when the time is right: that had seemed alarmingly like working it out as he went along and... very well, he was not unfamiliar with that but this was different, it was important, it was God Business. If Kija knows anything about God Business (and, brought up surrounded by it, steeped in it, he understands it with a total intimacy that surpassed any worldly knowledge he might possess) it is this: you have to do it right.
[So, when he'd heard that the process of... well, of whatever one called it when they took a shinki (words like binding and summoning and - and a lot of other uncomfortably masterful words, for one born to serve) required some kind of incantation, he had of course written it down, and then written it down again. Something like this warranted being kept in a proper book, not a mere slip of paper tucked behind a vase.]
Excuse me a minute...
[The one problem is he cannot remember where he left the wretched--there.
[He snatches at it. Flips it open. Skim-reads the incantation again; once again, it really doesn't seem like very much, or at all like something he should be doing. The catch? Something about names. He frowns. Looks up from the book. Yes, he really is standing in front of a total stranger with hair that goes up, with a look of total concentration on his face and an open book in one hand. And why not hesitate? Renaming someone he has known for a few minutes, about whom he knows nothing save that he is in need of a mirror, without so much as consulting him first seems somehow impolite.]
I believe we must settle on a name. Is there anything you particularly wish to be called?
no subject
[And that would appear to be that.
[Which means-- oh, lord, where did he put the book? Never mind knowing what to do when the time is right: that had seemed alarmingly like working it out as he went along and... very well, he was not unfamiliar with that but this was different, it was important, it was God Business. If Kija knows anything about God Business (and, brought up surrounded by it, steeped in it, he understands it with a total intimacy that surpassed any worldly knowledge he might possess) it is this: you have to do it right.
[So, when he'd heard that the process of... well, of whatever one called it when they took a shinki (words like binding and summoning and - and a lot of other uncomfortably masterful words, for one born to serve) required some kind of incantation, he had of course written it down, and then written it down again. Something like this warranted being kept in a proper book, not a mere slip of paper tucked behind a vase.]
Excuse me a minute...
[The one problem is he cannot remember where he left the wretched--there.
[He snatches at it. Flips it open. Skim-reads the incantation again; once again, it really doesn't seem like very much, or at all like something he should be doing. The catch? Something about names. He frowns. Looks up from the book. Yes, he really is standing in front of a total stranger with hair that goes up, with a look of total concentration on his face and an open book in one hand. And why not hesitate? Renaming someone he has known for a few minutes, about whom he knows nothing save that he is in need of a mirror, without so much as consulting him first seems somehow impolite.]
I believe we must settle on a name. Is there anything you particularly wish to be called?