Jem’s stint in the void came to an end but he didn’t immediately open his eyes. He could hear two voices and both were familiar.

“I’m telling you he’s fine, he should be up any moment now,” said Haywood.

There was a loud sigh. “And what if he isn’t? This should never have even happened. You’re so irresponsible.” It was the priest. Her voice was all gravel and had no warmth. He’d gone looking for her that morning, but it seemed she’d found him first.

Jem opened his eyes a fraction. She was looking straight at him and concern marred her face but when she saw him looking her expression changed.

“Stop pretending to be asleep and get up. You two have a lot of explaining to do.”

Jem sat up and considered the best way to stand up. His new legs didn’t make it easy.

“Up,” said the priest, lifting him to his hooves.

Okay, break her flow. Right now she’s in control of the conversation. “Sorry, this is awful, but I never asked. What should I call you?”

“Ahh that actually brings me to my next topic,” she said.

How?

“You can call me Auntie Aoife.”

Jem blinked and said. “Ahh okay?”

“After what happened with the ritual we feel somewhat responsible that’s why you’ve been adopted. ”

“But–wait–what?”

“I’ve already filed the paperwork, you are my ward.”

“But I'm an adult!” shouted Jem.

She poked him in the ribs. “And how long have you been in this world? As far as I'm concerned you’re not even 3 days old,” she said. “And if you’re going to throw a tantrum what choice do I have but to treat you like a toddler?”

“But Nessa hates me?” said Jem, meekly.

The priest snorted. “Oh please. I have known that girl her entire life, she just felt guilty.”

Jem remained unconvinced. Anyway, there was no reason he had to stay, he could just make a run for it after he–

After he– what? Found money, spent enough time copying someone else's skills, that he could afford to live on his own and then figured out how to deal with the mark all on his own and nope. Maybe he could just stay for a little while.

“Heeey auntie,” said Jem, about as nonchalantly as a 7-year-old with a firecracker, “what do we do about this?” Jem brandished his dimensional mark.

“Did you pick the black spot class?”

“No?”

“What did you pick?” She looked so disappointed Jem flinched.

“[The Lost Child],” said Jem.

“I,” Aoife sighed,” don’t even know what that is.”

“You complain about being treated like a child,” Haywood chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “but you picked a class called [The Lost Child].”

Aoife turned on Haywood. “You. Are. The. Reason. We. Are. In. This. Situation,” she said, punctuating each word with a jab to the ribs. Haywood tried to block her but she was relentless, every time he blocked one finger the other jabbed into him. “What. Were. You. Thinking. You. Shameless. Old. Man.”

Jem thought he had been steamrolled, but watching Aoife badger Haywood he suddenly felt like he’d got off lightly.

“Tell her how much experience you got Jem.”

“Don’t do that,” she snapped. “He just used you for achievements. It’s not every day you get the chance to mentor someone with a guaranteed A rank class. Isn’t. That. Right. Haywood.”

That’s going to bruise.

“Not that you picked it though.” She gave Jem a concerned smile. “Serves him right. So tell me about the class.”

Jem started telling her about the class and she looked irritated but he could see her resolve weaken as each thing he said slammed into her. “S* rank … 20 stats per level … Uncappped … Emulate, enhanced … Expert Skill descriptions.”

By the time he was done Haywood’s jaw looked like it was going to hit the floor.

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Aoife had a similarly avaricious gleam in her eye but her words hit like a gut punch. “Why would you go for expert skill descriptions? It’s useless.”

Aoife turned back on Haywood, her finger primed. “This. Is. Why. That. Was. Stupid. He. Doesn’t. Know. Better. But. You. Didn’t. Even. Properly. Tell. Him. How. To. Pick. Class. Modifiers.”

It’s still going. Then she turned on him. Her finger held threateningly.

“And you. You slipped away from the guard on your door, and for what, to get yourself killed?”

“I didn’t see a guard by my door? I walked out and went looking for a bathroom. I’d planned to find you afterwards but I ended up speaking to Haywood and one thing led to another. Anyway Haywood said I was perfectly safe, if anyone’s to blame it’s him!”

Haywood gave him a dirty look, which miraculously faded away when Aoife turned back to him.

“Did you plan this?”

“I was on the other side of the castle when Jem’s guard rushed to the toilet.”

She covered her mouth and there was a muffled groan.

“You shameless old git. You deliberately took a level 0 into a dungeon to get an achievement. I swear to the gods if you get a class evolution like “defender of the meek” I will shove it so far up your–”

“Sweetie, language. There’s a child here,” Haywood snorted.

You’re enjoying this too much old man.

“Dad shut the fuck up.”

“Noted.”

Jem had just about had enough. “Is literally everyone in this bloody castle related?”

“Well Aoife has been known to get around.”

“Can it old man or I’ll have Nessa open a nursing home just for you.”

Haywood staggered back in mock anguish. “Like you would dare. I’m her favourite granddad.”

“You’re her only granddad, the other one is dead.”

“My point still stands.”

Jem flopped back into the chair he’d cleared earlier. It nudged into the adjacent one and set the pile of books wobbling precariously. Haywood ran forward and caught them before they could tip over.

Jem yawned. “God I’m not sure if a Christmas dinner with you lot would be better or worse than one with my family back home.”

“Worse,” said Haywood.”

“Better,” said Aoife.

“What’s Christmas?” asked Nessa as she walked in through the door. “Have you two stoppeed squabbling yet?”

Nessa pulled out the chair next to Jem, unceremoniously dumping Haywood’s books onto the floor.

“Hey you can’t do that to my books.”

Nessa had a supremely smug expression on her face when she said, “I think you’ll find grandad, they’re my books.”

She turned to Jem. “And from what this set of papers is telling me, you’re my brother.”

She then turned to the other two in the room. “Can someone please explain what is going on here?”

“I’m glad someone asked,” said Jem.

Everyone in the room turned to him and he blushed.

Nessa coughed lightly.

“He didn’t pick the black spot. Because of someone’s meddling.” Aoife’s eyes flicked to, and stayed latched onto Haywood. Giving everyone in the room a clear indication of exactly who had done the meddling.

“He got an S* class instead,” said Haywood. “You should all be thanking me.”

Nessa groaned. “Grandad why do you always make so much work for me. Jem. Well done and absolutely do not tell anyone about this.”

“Wait why?” asked Jem.

“People with S rank classes tend to become strategic assets. It’s just a starter class so its not as bad. But if people find out they’ll want to either coerce you, kidnap you or kill you. It’s normally in that order,” said Nessa. “Now us four are going to come up with a plan to keep you safe and not a word of it is going to leave this room. Now lets talk about the dragon under the blankets.”

“Hey Nessie, guess what?”

“What–grandad?”

“Jem has the uncapped modifier.” Haywood cackled.

“What on earth did you do with him? No. Don’t answer that. You’re going to make me lose my hair. We’re going to go to a random room, ward it and then have this conversation.” Nessa stood up, walked to the door and then turned to the three of them. “Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything and for the sake of my health please stay here until I come back.”

Nessa closed the door and left.

“You really are trying to get me killed,” said Jem.

Both Aoife and Haywood shushed him.

Jem sighed. He’d swapped one dysfunctional family for another. When people had mentioned the idea of found families to him, he was utterly certain that this wasn’t what they had had in mind.