Jordan sat at one of three writing desks in his room. He was distressingly tired that morning, and his foul mood wasn’t helped by the annoyingly cheerful ray of light stabbing him in the eyes.
He knew he could’ve easily moved to a shaded location, but the thought of multiple writing desks was so absurd to him he’d stubbornly decided that this one was his, and he wouldn’t give it up. He’d picked it the night before due to the beautiful view it'd given of a moonlight-illuminated garden outside. While that view was little more than a giant laser blasting his face now—he’d experienced worse on that front.
God, maybe I should just go back to bed, he thought. It was tempting, but a part of him was scared to do so.
While he'd foolishly tried to cram years worth of knowledge into his skull during the last evening, his fatigue wasn't merely due to the long studying session. After he’d arrived home from the Brightmeadow Archives, he’d hit the books with everything he’d had. His enthusiasm had surprised him at first—after all, he hadn’t hit the books in twenty years! But what had doomed him completely was the overly optimistic choice he'd made afterwards.
He’d had the bright idea to try out the Brat’s age-related talent before he went to bed. For not the first time, he brought up the Chasm Device on his arm and reviewed the accursed talent.
[Fading Memory of Dream's Reflection]
Affiliation: Oneiromancy Affinity: Oneiromancy Disaffinity: Leadership
Description: Such wonders are these that you walk upon in dreams. By your love of stories—you may spend your night lost within these tales. With this Talent, you can experience the contents of any written work you’ve recently read while you sleep.
He’d been curious how the talent would function and discovered his ability to individually review techniques while trying to dredge up information on it. He'd needed to look into it, because no one could explain how to activate the talent. It was only after meditating in bed that he’d managed to follow the flow of energies in his Pattern and triggered it. While nothing had happened at first, during the night he’d dreamed about the books he’d read.
And it had been a complete and utter disaster.
Why had he ever thought it’d be a good plan? Reading was already a difficult endeavor given the Brat’s weird talent about feeling an author’s emotions. His dreams had been scenes from the books slowly falling apart as the actors in them started complaining or acting on things that had never even occurred in the books!
While it was a complete mess, if it’d only happened once Jordan could have lived with it. Instead, every time he'd gone to bed it ended the same way; a dream dissolving into chaos while everyone ran around screaming as colors bled everywhere. A disco rave from hell. He’d woken up half a dozen times in the night and he was exhausted now. And that was after he’d been given a ‘stamina’ tonic (it was coffee).
So as he sat at the desk contemplating his misfortunes, he scowled at a massive book resting in front of him. Inexplicably every book he'd come across were read from right to left in his new world, which had seriously irritated him from such an unfamiliar setup. He'd noticed it first the other day with the Brat's books, but dismissed it as a fluke, but now he knew that was how it really was.
Theres a lot of things about how things are that I don't agree with, Jordan thought. Case in point, this book in particular. It was one of the ability tomes he’d purchased. He’d spent hours scouring the library for various options based on Kioko’s recommendations, but now he was terrified his expenses were going to bite him in the ass. The problem was—he had too many things to learn and he had to buy something.
Alongside Sorcery, the one thing he’d decided he’d do, he also needed to have basic proficiency with ‘common’ strategy abilities. By that—it meant he needed a baseline capability to defend himself in a fight. It really was as simple as could be in that regard, but the Brat had been completely lacking in that department.
From the ‘principle’ abilities (physical abilities as Jordan thought of them), he needed Athletics so he’d be able to evade attacks, Close Combat so he could parry and fight in melee, Marksmanship for reasons, and Resilience so he wouldn’t die on the first hit.
Marksmanship… bah! Jordan glowered in annoyance. Reaching over his desk he flipped open a long wooden box, and stared at the wand resting inside the plush interior. It was just over a foot long and made of a dark wood with a golden ring just past its hilt. The metal continued up the wand, transitioning into an array of tiny glyphs that spiraled around the wood as they reached the tip.
Crap bisctuis, Jordan thought as he glared at the stick. His father had delivered it the night prior, as it was apparently one of the things he’d ordered on Jordan’s behalf.
Jordan had been surprised to find that marksmanship didn’t only mean bows and arrows (he hadn’t been surprised to find there were nothing like guns); it covered magical wands and various spell casting, like Invocation, as well. However, his excitement over the gift turned into teeth-grinding frustration after reading one of his mundane books concerning their use in combat.
Like all things, qualities varied. Artifact or high level magical wands could fire near-infinitely, and their blasts could reach the levels of a low level Invoker.
So, naturally, that wasn’t the wand he had.
No—what he’d gotten was another ‘military standard fare’ item. With one Ki, it would be charged for 12 shots and hit with all the force and power of an unenchanted bow. The likes of it could be purchased in a store for 5 Crowns, tops. There were also magical staves, but they accomplished about the same thing, cost slightly more, and wouldn't go with his shield.
To be fair, it wasn’t bad, and if he wasn't so grouchy that morning he knew he wouldn't have minded as much. It was just... another reminder of all the weight slowly building on his shoulders. Something simple and subpar because anything more could spell disaster. He still didn’t know where his spending limits with the review board were in that regard.
With a dramatic sigh, he snapped the case shut, and turned to the other ability tomes he’d purchased.
He’d only bought the books for Discipline, Leadership, and Subterfuge because apparently his new mother had asked Kioko to have him pick them up. Without them, he’d be as vulnerable in social situations as he was in combat. As such, he wasn’t given an option.
Of all the… doesn’t she even know how expensive these damn things are!? Each ability book had cost him 100 Crowns. He didn’t even know how much that really was until he’d discovered that the average worker earned 2-4 Crowns a month. Nearly three years of labor for a person per book and he’d purchased 8 of them. That wasn't even including the various skill books he'd gotten too! Though they were thankfully cheaper, it was still adding up like crazy.
The funny part to Jordan was that these weren't even the most expensive versions—he’d worried which levels to buy and Kioko had suggested he get the Tier Two ability tomes. Tier One cost half as much, and Tier Three increased by nearly three times the amount and it only went up from there. They could be worth it, though, as each one reduced the cost of the relevant ability or skill by their Tier in experience. In the case of abilities and attributes, it could really add up given their multiple stages of development but they were also much more expensive in comparison.
But what was he supposed to tell the review board when he got there? Look I only spent a gold bar on my stuff when I could have spent ten times that amount... so be proud of me? This didn't even cover the fact that all this did for him was reduce the costs a small amount. He’d still need 24 experience per ability to rank them up, which meant 168 experience for everything he needed! It was a ludicrous amount. Impossible to get!
Jordan slammed his head onto his desk. He’d done that a couple of times that morning, and it hadn’t really helped yet. That didn’t stop him from trying again.
“Do you need anything, Young Miss?” The Harlot stationed nearby asked. "I could get you another stamina potion? Or tea perhaps?" Jordan just moaned and pushed a half-eaten plate of food away.
“Can you take this away? I’m not hungry anymore…”
To her credit, the maid quietly nodded and took his leftovers. It irked Jordan to leave so much behind, but he really wasn’t that hungry and couldn’t muster up enough willpower to finish. A sudden bang made Jordan momentarily jump in his seat.
“Hey Big Sis!” Catella’s voice rang out as she burst in. Running around the maid, she then leapt lightly over to where Jordan was face-planted in his pity party.
Flopping his head to the side, he met her eyes. “Good mornin’ Catella.”
His words were little more than a mumble, but the little brat beamed brightly at him before looking over his stack of books with concern. After grimacing at them, she turned back to Jordan. “Do you want to go for a walk? It’s supposed to be nice all morning!”
Jordan sighed loudly and twitched his head ineffectively. “Sorry Lil’ Sis, maybe later…”
Catella pouted, but before she could protest a stern voice spoke out. It came from a woman that had followed Catella into the room.
“Miss Catella, we shouldn’t be bothering your sister when she has so much work to do. In fact, how about you follow suit? We have plenty of lessons for you to catch up on as well.”
The woman smiling next to Catella was dressed in a modest, soft grey dress with a pair of sweeping black wings demurely tucked behind her, declaring her a Proudborn Demonkin. She was an older woman, and was Catella’s new, personal, Governess. I think they said her name was Petronella or something?
“Er…” Catella eyed her new guardian, before hemming and hawing. “You know, I think I should… ah…”
Her new Governess eyed her suspiciously. “Catella. You can’t keep running away from your studies. Now come along and…”
The woman’s voice trailed off as she stared at Catella. The young girl was slowly backing away as she lifted a hand to tap her amulet.
“Catella… don’t do this. It’s just a few hours of study, then you can—oh not again!”
With a sudden crashing noise, Jordan stared incredulously at Catella as she defenestrated herself to escape—the window shattering dramatically as the child disappeared into the gardens below. With a screech of frustration her new Governess followed, flying out the open portal.
Staring across the garden, Jordan watched in bemusement as the tiny figure of Catella bounced from path to path with the screaming woman diving after her. A few Koi-Devils jumped up to try and cover Catella's getaway.
The sound of clinking drew Jordan’s attention away as he saw several clones of the Harlot sweeping the glass up. Man they move fast, he thought. A sudden scream signaled Catella had been caught, also rather quickly, and Jordan went back to watching as the Governess struggled to fly with a squirming ball of sunshine.
To be fair, if I could escape needing to study by jumping out a window, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Resting his head in a hand, he pulled up one of his mundane books on magic and picked up where he’d left off the night before.
While each of the various magical abilities offered their own path, the only three he was considering were Invocation, Oneiromancy, and Sorcery. That wasn't to say that there weren't some tempting choices with the others. He brought up his list of abilities and mentally ran through them again.
Abilities
----------------------------------------
WORKING COLLECTIVE OCCULT PRINCIPLE
Academics
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Administration
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Abjuration
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Athletics
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Agriculture
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Discipline
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Animism
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Close Combat
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Alchemy
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Economics
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Conjuration
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Larceny
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Artifice
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Handling
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Invocation
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Martial Arts
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Artistry
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Leadership
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Mysticism
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Marksmanship
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Construction
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Performance
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Necromancy
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Piloting
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Crafting
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Socialize
⚪=⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Oneiromancy
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Resilience
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Enchanting
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Strategy
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Restoration
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Survival
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Lore
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Subterfuge
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Sorcery
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Stealth
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Ritualism
⚪=⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Vigilance
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Thaumaturgy
⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫ Tactics
⚪=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫=⚫
----------------------------------------
At the top it started with Abjuration. That magical art seemed to focus on gathering and storing Essence internally. Practitioners weren't very good at adapting on the fly, but they went into combat with an array of spells ready to go. It meant they could be dangerous in bursts but were more vulnerable when tapped out. They still excelled at shielding against incoming damage, counter-spelling by drawing on active energies, and self-buffing though.
Looking over the list, Jordan grouped Animism, Conjuration, and Thaumaturgy together as 'summon' type magic. They each had their own manner of doing so, with Animists beseeching nearby Spirits for aid, Conjurers making pacts directly with Spirits to make Familiars, and Thaumaturgists connecting with the divine. While the term 'divine' had originally thrown Jordan off, his research had found that any Spirit that was the equivalent of Level 10 or higher was considered a 'divine Spirit' that could be worshipped for power.
Further down, he considered Restoration and Necromancy to be two sides of the same coin. Restoration created Essence out of living Essences to heal, shape, and transmute things and people. Meanwhile, Necromancy drained and burned through those same kind of Essences for power. Jordan had been surprised to find it had little in the way of undead or anything or the sort, mostly acting as a kind of blood magic in his opinion.
That had left Mysticism for him to consider, but he dismissed it quickly. It was weird—even more so than Oneiromancy. Nothing it did was done directly, and everything was about the 'Like calls to Like' mentality. It was almost more about convincing the world to do magic for you rather than doing magic itself.
So, of his primary choices, he'd had to decide what to focus on first. Invocation and Oneiromancy were similar in the regard that they both relied on permanent Skills to use as Essence sources, but they differed in almost every other way.
In the case of Invocation, the Curator had shown him how its techniques came together. There were skills for each type of Essence, and skills for each type of shape, like bolts or lines. Finally, there were supplemented casting skills to enhance their spell's aim or effectiveness. So while the magical art had the drawback of usually requiring marksmanship to hit, an Invoker with a full array of skills could be quite versatile, and each new Skill could potentially expand their options dramatically.
But Oneiromancy was more limited. In fact, it seemed a worse choice as far as casting went, as each spell skill had to be learned individually, like his [Memory Obfuscation Stillness]. No versatility, no toolbox, no compounding power for your spells with each skill. Instead, it was its draw technique that compounded on itself. Past its basic skill, its ability to generate Essence only seemed to get more versatile with each additional Belief you hooked into it.
Still, where it seemed to truly shine was in offering an array of utility skills unrelated to casting. Some of them let an experienced Oneiromancer quite literally tinker with their own mind. Furthermore, it was the only naturally invisible form of magic—meaning many of its spells could be hidden when used. In addition, if what the Curator had told him held true, then it could also be a powerful supplement to either Invocation or Sorcery. He'd... just have to be creative to use it.
The last magic then was Sorcery. He was all but committed to it, despite some reservations. It required three skills to be able to use at its basic level: [Elemental Sorcerous Weaving], [Sorcerous Shaping Practice], and [Sorcerous Emanation Casting].
The first skill let the caster draw in ambient elemental Essence, and the second allowed the Sorcerer to hold onto it and begin working it. Once it was prepared, the third one would explode the Essence out around the caster in a destructive burst. Skills following the third one provided different shapes, similar to Invocation's toolbox approach in that manner. Skills after the second let the Sorcerer transform or infuse Essence into their spell, and skills after the first one would let him utilize different sources like the other Occult abilities, or alter the speed and efficiency of their drawing.
Given all that, he'd ended up buying the Tier One skill books for all three of those skills alongside the Sorcery ability tome. He'd debated getting the Invocation ability tome too, but... he felt he'd be unduly tempted to disregard Oneiromancy if he did. So for now, he held off his judgement and tried to focus on learning what he could all around.
As such, the true unsung hero throughout all his studying, however, had been the Brat’s quality of ‘Speed Reading.' Not only had he been able read incredibly quickly, but he’d also had no issue retaining the information. It was probably telling that the only thing like a cheat ability he had was the ability to power through books faster than normal. After all, at this rate—he’d be done with his pile of books in only three, no two years!
A gruff voice clearing its throat caught Jordan mid-eyeroll and drew his dour attention away once more.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Ehem, good morning Lady Freyhell. Er, may I ask why you decided the window was your enemy today?” The man speaking was an old elven gentleman, dressed in rough, darkly colored clothes suitable for a day of labor.
“Hey, this time it wasn’t me!" Jordan said. "Catella decided to take the express way out of the room…”
“Oh, I should have guessed… I think this is the third one in the last two days. I’ll have this cleared up in a few minutes and we’ll leave you be.” He smiled warmly, though it was a tad unsettling given just how angular his face was, despite his wrinkles.
Still, Jordan nodded, and the old man got to work replacing the window. He’d met the man the night before when he’d... accidentally broke a hole in a wall and had to have it repaired. Jordan had been taking a break from studying and had decided to personally see if he really could make a makeshift mace out of a bouquet of flowers.
Turned out—he could.
Also, it was really easy to put holes in walls with them.
Though the event did net him a nice scolding and the chance to meet Kharis; the elven maintenance staff before him now. So… a win all around, he supposed?
After the man left with a gaggle of Harlots not-so-subtly stalking him, Jordan closed his book and set it aside. He’d purchased more than ability tomes and skill books—he’d grabbed a number of mundane books covering topics outside of magic to complement what the Curator had given him. He considered reading another one of them, but he’d gotten upset after he read a particular history book that had drawn his attention.
‘A Recounting of Roceans.’ Jordan had been… curious. But in the end he wished he hadn’t read it. His new father really was a powerful sorcerer, and the book had been less than flattering in its depictions of the events decades ago. Jordan figured wiping out a city could leave that kind of effect on people’s attitudes, though he was surprised the High King allowed such critical writing to exist.
Am I really sure I want to follow in Constantine’s footsteps? He’d questioned himself several times now. Sorcery carried a lot of potential in a world of magic, but… he could easily find himself in the same kind of situation as his father.
For not the first time, he grabbed the tome on Sorcery, flipping it open to where he’d bookmarked a page as he stared at the illustration. He’d skipped ahead to read this chapter, as it was designed to show the upper limits of what Sorcery could accomplish.
In the picture was a man with swirling energy surronding his hands as held back a tide hundreds of feet high in the distance.
In Ænerith, Jordan had discovered that no cities were built on coastal locations. The four daily tides that came in washed inland quiet a ways, and during ‘Echo Tides’ tsunamis could travel a hundred kilometers in some areas. While he wasn't sure what that was in miles, he had no doubt it was 'a lot.' As a result the coasts were constantly reinforced with sorcerous enchantments to prevent the worst of it.
I wouldn’t necessarily have to fight people with this magic. I could try to be an enchanter. Ritualism goes well with that too, or I could try and limit myself to fighting monsters… Jordan sighed again. He knew it was a pleasant lie.
If I want to fight the high king, I’m going to need this kind of power. A part of him even considered spending the stupid amount of money he’d been given on magic books and not even caring about getting into the academy. Just making a quick grab for power.
But I’m sure Mercia would see through it… what would she do then? Not to mention that stupid contract I signed. Jordan tisked in annoyance, just in time with the sound of his door swinging open once more.
“Careful there, I might have to get my notebook out again.” A familiar voice called out as Kioko joined the ever growing ranks of ‘people who liked to barge in without knocking.’ To be fair, Jordan knew that as his Governess she did have a certain leeway in that regard.
“Oh, good mornin’ my dearest Governess. Please tell me you have come to rescue me from my studies!” Jordan dramatically exclaimed.
The cat-woman laughed before saddling up next to him, half sitting on the desk. A quick flash of motion drew Jordan’s attention to her familiar, Charlie, who dashed about the room excitedly before rushing up to Jordan. Without looking for permission, the Carbuncle jumped onto his lap and promptly curled up.
“Aww… I guess you really do like me, doncha…” Jordan laughed as he ran his hands through the familiar’s fur.
Kioko snorted in response. “He just likes how warm you are.”
“Wait, I’m not going to burn him am I?” Jordan still hadn’t gaged exactly how hot his skin was, but one of the books he’d purchased had been about the various Racial traits. He’d scoured it concerning how hot the Freyhells, or Flameborn, could get. Doing so had allowed him to confirm that while they weren’t hot enough to burn someone, it could cause pain over prolonged contact. And he had no idea how sensitive spirits or monsters would be.
In response, the tiny face of Charlie perked up. Jordan met its gaze, and the creature gave a pleasant little mewl as it seemed to chuckle, smiling with its eyes. It then dug its face into its fur, looking like it was about to draw out a—
Jordan placed a hand on the Carbuncle's head. “I swear to all things holy and unholy in this world, if you draw out another license—I’m throwing you out the window.”
Jordan’s eyes were cold and harsh as he stared into the tiny creatures' ruby orbs. The thing considered his words, before gently and slowly returning to a tiny, curled position where it promptly ‘fell’ asleep, radiating ‘innocence.’
Jordan liked Charlie. He really did. But he was in no mood for sass today and he’d start clobbering folk with his flower mace if it came to it.
“Wow,” Kioko whistled. Jordan raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. “Sorry, you look scarily like Mercia when you glare like that.”
“What? I do not.” Jordan glared at his Governess, in a way that he suddenly realized was… probably just like his new mother. “Er… s-sorry.” He said, shaking his head to clear the expression.
“Hey, don’t worry. I have permission to give you tough love, so if you ever cross a line I’ll just smack you around until you behave.”
“What? Seriously!?” They’d given her permission to abuse him!?
“Ho ho ho!” She laughed in her overly-dramatized way. “Nope, but for a moment you believed me!”
Jordan stared at her blankly. “Ha. Ha.” He grumbled less kind words under his breath as he shuffled a few more books around.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look good. You didn’t stay up all night studying did you?” Kioko asked.
Jordan sighed, shaking his head. Over the next few minutes, he explained his issues with the talent he'd tried to use and his theories as to why it happened. When he was done, Kioko frowned.
“Huh, and you think this is related to a Talent that lets you read emotions from written works?”
Jordan nodded.
“Hmm… well, don’t take this the wrong way, but it could be something else.” She said.
“What do you mean?” Jordan shot back.
“Well, I didn’t see any Talents that do what you describe and I... may have been reading over your shoulder yesterday. I’m not sure what could be influencing you, but I have some ideas…” She looked worried as she chewed on a lip, one canine snaggling out.
Oh, right. Jordan cursed inwardly. The talent was listed as hidden and here I’ve been just telling everyone about it… maybe I should just show it to her? Jordan mulled it over, and decided that showing her wouldn’t hurt. Everyone knew everything about him anyway.
Lifting up his Chasm, he mentally focused on the hidden talents and found the switch to reveal them. Once visible, he showed them to Kioko. She was shocked at him having hidden powers, but then surprisingly… couldn’t make heads or tails of them.
“What do you mean you can’t read them?” Jordan complained.
“Look, bring up that first one again?” Kioko asked, and Jordan complied.
[Worlds Beyond Words]
Source: UNKNOWN Affinity Gained: Oneiromancy
Description: words was finding a reveal felt made Author measure shall was at exists the all can Within a time only an truth world what the it hide so much the
Warning: Errors have been detected attempting to process this Talent.
“The whole thing is just scrambled,” she said, gesturing at the words. “I can’t tell what it’s supposed to say.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow in concern, and looked back at the perfectly ordinary words he read.
“It’s just saying that within words an author’s true feelings will be revealed and all that. I don’t see anything scrambled here. Er, maybe I messed it up unhiding it?”
“I… I’m not sure. Show me that second one again?”
He brought it up.
[Reason in Madness]
Source: UNKNOWN Affinity Gained: Unknown Essence type
Description: See. Hear. Feel. That which isn't. That which wasn't. Chosen of nothing, fall upon your blade! But... the people will die and the things shall be broken? Your world is a lie and you were born for the SLAUGHTER little lost... LAMB — AHAHAHAHA
Warning: Errors have been detected attempting to process this Talent.
“That one… it’s just an odd, open space on the screen.” Kioko said. “There’s nothing for me to read, other than the warning at the bottom that errors were detected.”
“You’re… serious?” Jordan asked. This one was spooky, sure, but it had an even longer description than the first. Not that it matters, it reads like some creepypasta prophecy.
“Yeah… um, look if you say you’re seeing more there I’ll believe you, okay? I just can’t see them myself.”
Jordan narrowed his eyes at her in response. “Um, thanks?”
Kioko huffed in annoyance. “Look, let’s just change the subject. How are you with picking out your Specializations and Skills?”
Jordan glowered at the segue, feeling like she was just putting him off like she had up at Rahm’s place in the Celestial City. He still hadn’t had his final Spirit vision explained and everything had gotten so… fuzzy when people talked about it. Biting his cheek, he considered hounding Kioko about it, but her body posture had gotten visibly defensive. She wasn’t going to budge, and he recognized it.
So sighing in frustration once more, he gestured to his pile of ability tomes.
“I’m kind of… scared to read them. I’ve been focusing on all the non-magic books first. I haven’t really decided anything yet.” He admitted.
“Scared? What’s wrong?” Kioko asked.
Jordan rounded on her, upsetting Charlie in the process before he smoothed down the little critter’s fur. “I was told anything I buy is going to bite me in the ass! How am I supposed to use these without getting screwed over?”
Kioko cocked her head quizzically. “Would you… like some advice?”
“I don’t know, will it get me shot down at the review?” Jordan ground his teeth. He stopped when Kioko lightly bopped him on the head.
“Stop that. Also, no, it's more that I’m trying to be respectful of your choices, but you’re so damn stubborn about things. I swear you’re almost as bad as Rahm…”
“Well…” Jordan wanted to protest, and Kioko even waited patiently for him to finish, but in the end he turned back towards his desk frowning. “Yeah, you’re right, okay. Please just tell me how I’m supposed to be able to read all these and not get screwed over?”
“Listen, the thing is there isn’t a problem with you buying materials, training tools, gear, and all that. You’ll have to, everyone does. The problem is that you’re in a position that if you wanted to you could cover yourself head to toe with Artifacts and fill this entire room with Tier Five Skill books. Hells, you might even be able to grab a few Tier Sixes.”
“Then how much—”
“No more interruptions.” She bopped him on the head again. “It's about striking a balance between solving your problems with money, or enabling yourself to succeed. Just like it's about striking a balance between your path towards Immortality and the duties and responsibilities of your mortal life.”
Jordan glared at her, and she waved a hand allowing him to speak. “I still don’t get what that’s supposed to mean. I know the Academy is about training Immortals, but I’m a Demonkin aren’t I? I can’t become an Immortal and everyone knows it.”
Kioko shook her head. “While that’s a common belief, the High King expressly forbade judgement based on races. Even if you can’t become Immortal, walking that path would let you serve his forces with distinction. Like your father did.”
Jordan grimaced at the reminder, and took comfort in lightly squeezing Charlie. The Carbuncle made a content sigh as Jordan held him.
“Furthermore,” Kioko said, “Something you need to understand is that they’ll judge you only for your path. Things that help on the way will get side consideration, and things that are a challenge, rather than a boon, will be weighed in your favor.”
Jordan looked at her in confusion, and the cat-woman rolled her eyes. Reaching over his desk she sorted his ability tomes.
“Sorcery? They’ll ask you specifically why you got this tome and how you justify the costs. It's not about whether it's right or wrong, it’s about whether you have a reason, and if it's good. Athletics, Close Combat, Marksmanship, and Resilience here? Peripherally useful because you’ll be fighting to complete their requirements to get in. They’ll question, but not push you on them. But these ones?”
Kioko scooted Jordan’s least favorite tomes forward. “Discipline, Leadership, and Subterfuge? Unless you decide to go for a socially-aspected Specialization those don’t help on your path to becoming an Immortal, because your path is defined as a Sorceress. Well, unless you changed your mind there, but the point is—the review won’t care one bit about you buying these books or using them. They’ll just ask about your challenges as a noble and if you feel comfortable using money to address them. And since that’s pretty much what all nobles do, that’s a freebie.”
“They… really won’t get mad about that?” Jordan asked.
“Kid, they’d have to challenge the right of all nobles to spend their wealth to solve problems if they did.”
“Oh…” Jordan sighed in relief. “So, if I wanted to just go buy Tier Five skill books for all these social skills and abilities I could?”
Kioko nodded. “You can, just keep in mind your Aptitude limits.”
“Huh?” Jordan quirked his head at her.
“…crap, I thought someone would have told you by now.”
“Wait, do you mean the limits on experience storage? I know about that.”
Kioko sighed out, running a hand through her hair as her tail flicked in annoyance. “No, that’s not the same thing. So with an Aptitude Rank of [C] I believe your Errant Skill limit will be 15. Once you have more than that, all new Skills will increase in cost. Everytime you pass that number in the future, it’ll go up and up. I think it’ll start as 2 Experience more, then 4, then 8 and so on.”
“… god fucking damnit.” Jordan planted his face back into the desk as Charlie squeaked in concern. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. There’s always something more. Always.”
Kioko rubbed his back reassuringly. “Look, it's one of the reasons Specializations are important. Not only do Skills in them not count towards your Errant limit, but there's no limit to the amount of those Skills you can have with them.”
“But why?” Jordan’s head shot up as he glared at Kioko with slightly misted eyes. “What inane, stupid reason is there to limit how many non-specialized skills I can have?”
Kioko paused thoughtfully as she mulled over his words. “Skills that don’t harmonize with your Pattern slowly build up dissonance. It becomes harder and harder to change your Pattern when that happens, whereas Specialized Skills build off of a framework that’s interwoven into your being.”
Yup, inane and fucking stupid, Jordan glowered.
“So I can learn as many social skills as I want but it'll make all my skills so expensive in the end that it's basically not worth it?” Kioko slowly nodded, and Jordan continued. “So does that apply to abilities or attributes too?”
Kioko shook her head. “Those are both fundamental frameworks to your Pattern, so no. Hey, don’t glare at me like that, this is like trying to describe the difference between building up fat or muscle. And look, if you ever want to be able to form your own internal CSSM you’ll need to know this kind of stuff. Recognizing how your own Pattern works is an essential skill, alright?”
Jordan reluctantly nodded. “Fine…”
The conversation had irritated him to no end, but finding out that he wasn’t going to be completely screwed over by having to learn social skills, and all that, was a bit of a relief. Kioko cleared her throat next to him, looking somewhat anxious.
Jordan sighed dramatically. “What is it now…”
“Well, your mother invited some family over and, ah, she wanted me to let you know that you have a get together this evening.”
Jordan’s eyebrow twitched. “Wonderful.” He hated Kioko’s sense of timing.
----------------------------------------
“This will be an informal gathering,” Mercia said, “so there’s no need to feel too anxious.”
Jordan and his new mother walked at a steady pace through the House of Brats. The morning had passed by rather quickly with Jordan’s head stuck in his books.
He found it surprising then, that by the time the afternoon had rolled around he was so bored by his studies he was actually looking forward to his little ‘tea party,’ as he thought of it. There were still a few hours before the guests arrived, however, and Mercia had asked Jordan to accompany her for some pre-event tasks.
“So, ah, who’s going to be here anyway?” Jordan asked.
“Kerularia Nereida and her daughter Anthemia. They’re your first cousin once removed and second cousin, from my mother’s side. They can be… delicate, but you shouldn’t find their company too demanding.”
“What do you mean delicate?” Was he going to have to walk on eggshells all evening?
“Sensitive, darling. Emotionally speaking. My mother is… Wrathborn, so this side of your family can be, well, shall we say temperamental? It shouldn’t be an issue but do try your best to be polite, alright?”
Jordan nodded warily, assuaging Mercia’s concerns as they entered into the bustling kitchen. Chef Duan looked up and gave a grand smile as he waddled over to greet them.
“Ah, Duchess! And the Young Miss, welcome. Welcome! Everything should be ready per your instructions.” The Tigerborn seemed overly eager as he bowed again and again. Almost more from concern, Jordan decided to draw on his one social skill. As he breathed in deeply, his Ki flowed through him as [Discerning Intentions] activated.
Jordan knew that Chef Duan was incredibly anxious since the assassin had managed to poison the food he’d made, and was doing everything he could for things to be perfect.
Looking around, Jordan could see several female Tigerborn, all built like Amazonian warriors, racing around frantically alongside two smaller kittenkin. One boy and girl mostly trying to assist without being trampled in the process. I guess he brought in his whole damn family in to help, Jordan thought. Poor guy.
“Excellent.” Mercia said. “Do you have the sampler ready?”
Chef Duan nodded, and looking behind him one of the women swept in to deliver a plate onto a nearby counter. On it were a number of small, bite sized morsels of various foodstuffs, and it was quickly joined by a number of tiny glasses filled with various steaming liquids.
“Perfect, now Aureliana I want you to try this if you would.”
“Try them? Ah, why?” Jordan narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the people around him.
Mercia tsked at his expression. “Darling, we need to see if you can process regular food. It could be seen as a slight against our guests to feed you separate food.”
“Why would they care?” Jordan asked.
“Culture, Aureliana. Culture. It differs for us all, and for Wrathborn not sharing in food can be seen as a sign of mistrust. Much like leaving food on your plate if you share a table with a Gluttonyborn.”
“Why can’t we just give them what I eat then? Haven’t you and dad been sharing my food?”
Mercia stared at him incredulously. “Aureliana, they are our guests. It is insulting enough to be serving regular quality meals to them. Surely you can understand that, yes?”
His new mother looked like she was trying to describe a fundamental truth of the universe, and Jordan tried not to stare too blankly back at her. A part of him could imagine what she meant. His old life's mother had insisted on bringing out the ‘good china’ whenever extended family came by, so maybe this was just how people in this world felt? Or I’m just really bad when it comes to food stuff, he thought.
So with a condemned sigh, he ambled over to the ‘sampler’ and picked up his first bite. It was a small finger sandwich. Steeling himself, he ate it quickly, chewing as rapidly as he could while trying to avoid using his tongue. His body trembled notably after the first few seconds, his eyes squinting from the blast of flavor assaulting him with all the strength of a sour patch kid amplified to inhumane levels.
With a forced swallow and a fluttering of his eyes, he managed to get it down. Fighting not to pant, he turned back and gave two shaky thumbs up.
Mercia frowned. “I suppose… that may do. You’ve had worse reactions.”
“Oh come on, I’m trying here alright!”
“Darling, I… I apologize, I wasn’t trying to offend you. I’m just frustrated with your situation, that’s all.” She moved to Jordan’s side and hugged him gently. “I’m glad you’re improving. I really am.”
Jordan sighed, but returned her hug. After a moment they parted, but before Jordan could wander off, Mercia cleared her throat and gestured towards the tea samples.
His eyebrow twitched, but he acquiesced and chugged the beverages down. He handled them better, being more prepared this time.
“Alright, then we’ll proceed as planned.” Mercia said as she filled the room with a [Perfect Smile]. She then spoke with the Chef to finalize some of the preparations.
Left to his own devices, Jordan looked around the kitchen curiously. It was an impressive setup, with several stove-like appliances set in rows with cabinets and metal trunks lining the walls. Each of them were also covered in runes and enchantments that hummed audibly. To Jordan, it felt like all the trappings of a modern kitchen fueled by magic.
But as he was looking around, Jordan felt another tug. That subtle pull that suggested something, connected him in some mysterious way to something in the room. Closing his eyes as he concentrated on the feeling, he followed the thread towards… the young cat-boy?
Opening his eyes, he looked at the kid in full. While all the other Tigerborn in the kitchen had orange fur with black stripes, the young boy had pure black fur with the barest hints of white stripes showing. His green eyes were vibrant, standing out even as he tried to hang back. Whatever connection there was between them was faint, like no more than a possibility, but Jordan felt it as sure as he had the day before with the Summoning Chambers.
But that had been right before shit went down. Is this the same thing? Also… what the fuck is this weirdness?
Lacking any way to answer his questions, Jordan decided to take a chance. While he’d initially been fine passing on an exhibition of familiars that went off the rails, he had regretted the idea that he may have missed out on experience. He wasn’t sure if he could get any here, but still... he needed every drop. And if the boy was dangerous… this was right in his own house.
Nodding in surety, Jordan followed the connection and walked up to speak to the kid. “Hey, I’m Aureliana. I’m not sure if we’ve met before, but it's nice to meet you! What's your name?”
If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have sounded like thunder. The entire kitchen froze, and Jordan realized that he’d foolishly just breached etiquette in some manner.
Looking around in complete terror, the young boy stammered in reply. “I-I’m R-renshen, b-but everyone c-calls me Rinrin. Um… y-your gracious ladyness.” The cat-boys face had instantly been coated in nervous sweat as he desperately attempted a bow.
Clearing her throat, Mercia politely walked over. “Nice to meet you young Rinrin, please excuse my daughter’s… forwardness on this occasion.”
Forwardness? All I did was introduce myself. It seemed foreign to Jordan that this could be an issue, but Mercia’s tightening grip on his shoulder made her displeasure clear on the matter. The boy's father was just gaping like a Koi-Devil.
So with a polite farewell, they left the kitchen in awkward hurry. Once they were safely away, Mercia began to scold Jordan. He tried to protest, but she wasn’t hearing it.
“While your father has a habit of being informal with the help, you need to learn what is and isn’t appropriate, young lady.”
“But all I did was introduce myself! How is that a problem?”
“That child is a male Tigerborn, Aureliana. Not only was introducing yourself on a first name basis incredibly forward in the face of a stranger, your aggressive mannerisms would be seen as a sign of you showing… interest in him.”
“...interest? Wait, you don’t mean…” Jordan’s eyes popped open. “What, no I just… I just felt a connection between us and I wanted to know if…”
Jordan trailed off as Mercia stared at him with borderline horror on her face. I seriously just said I felt a connection to him? Oh my god.
“I misspoke.” Jordan said lamely.
“I most certainly hope so.” Mercia replied, shaking her head. "That poor boy has enough weighing on him what with his father's outrageous expectations of him. He doesn't need... oh, never mind. Go rest for now. Our guests will be here soon enough and we'll be expected to greet them.”
Jordan nodded his head demurely as he began to walk away. His father's expectations? I wonder what that means...
“And Aureliana?” His mother called out.
“Um, yes?”
“Please refrain from romantic interests with the staff. Or for the love of the Princes, warn me next time?” She then turned away muttering to herself.
Jordan for his part, simply turned a brighter shade of red as he trudged back to his room.
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