Chapter 007

Now, he had experienced watching his daughters being born. He had watched the nurses wash them off a bit and use nice warm towels to dry them off, then wrap them up in warm blankets before heading off to do those things like measuring height and weight and such.

Here?

[Slip the Bonds], ftw!!

Once the midwife-lady got over her shock, he’d been wrapped up in a blanket and handed to his mother.

He was glad that [Adapt Body] was still going, as that saved him from the temperature-shock he would normally have experienced upon exiting the birth canal.

Joram found himself placed on his mother’s now bare chest, encouraged to suckle on the presented boob.

He took a moment to sort through the many hormones and thoughts rushing through him.

One: it was weird seeing a breast bigger than his head. Much bigger.

Two: it was also weird not having teeth. But fortunate for his mother he supposed, as his muscle coordination was still in the development phase.

Three: the hormones flowing through his system all pushed him to think that everything in the world was good and OK now because he was snuggled up to his mother.

Four: his old-man consciousness was weirded out.

He might have to do some selective editing of his consciousness to deal with being reborn. How the heck did all those people in stories cope with it?

Probably a Deus-ex thing.

He would admit, he was a boob man. He liked them. Like their shape, how soft they were, or how firm. Liked how they moved.

So, he did the only thing that made sense at that point.

He gathered all of that up, put it into a little packet, and had Avi put it into a Crystal Mind and leave it on a shelf somewhere.

Much better.

* * *

Sulia was in shock.

Not physical shock, but a mental one.

She had expected to go through a not-inconsiderable amount of pain as Joram came out.

Instead, she’d been witness to something she didn’t think anyone had ever seen before. She’d have to check the archives.

But! The sight of her baby flying through the air as the last bit of fluid came out of his mouth… that sight would never leave her.

And she had not felt one bit of the pain that had been described to her in horrid detail by her (well meaning?) family members.

If it was going to be that easy, why had it taken so long? What had changed? Had little Joram done something?

As she looked down at her bosom where he lay, latched on and drinking, she also tried to sort out the many emotions that had come through from that bundle in her head.

Once he’d come out, she could have sworn that she’d felt a sense of… satisfaction(?) come from him. Then a sense of exasperation as he cried out for a few moments before he’d been wrapped up.

The weirdest of all had been the excitement she’d felt from him when he’d been placed on her chest. Did babies inherently know that breasts meant food?

Either way, she was glad that he seemed content to suckle as she held him.

She didn’t, however, miss the look that Midwife Ulanan and her grandmother shared before they stepped out the door.

She wondered how much they suspected. She’d nearly had a heart attack when Joram had shot out like that. Not only because of the surreal sight, but also because she worried that Midwife Ulanan might sense the mental strength in Joram as she held him.

Sulia was glad, then, that Shael had been too shocked to do anything but the barest minimum before handing Joram off to her.

She paused again.

It was stronger now, her sense that he should be called Joram.

She looked down at the little head full of lilac-white hair and wondered what it all meant. Was her son the reincarnation of a legendary Master? Would he bring their clan to never-before seen heights of glory and prestige?

Sulia shook her head, knowing that if that were the case, then their clan would likely be endangered. Would they need to move to the Kellam Clan to start a new life there so that Joram could grow with talents without fear of their clan being discovered?

They hadn’t really ever told Ivaryn’s family and clan anything about hers. Sure, they had shared that she was from a small mountain village on the border of the Wilds and the Chrysanthemum Country, but nothing else.

Maybe they could move in with his clan if Joram wound up being too… conspicuous here.

She shuffled aside as the attendants helped change the bedding around her, taking away the large soaker-pad along with the rest of the sheets and the placenta.

She looked down at her baby boy again and extended her senses ever-so-slightly so that she could examine him. And found that he was perfectly normal.

In the best way!

She didn’t find any traces of mental strength coming from him, but found his body to be healthy and strong, with a good foundation…

What?

Sulia firmed her heart, determined to let Joram grow to his full potential while living as boring a life as she could make for him.

* * *

“What was that?!” Tatia demanded of Shael as soon as the privacy barrier was up.

“How would I know?” She almost snapped back, but managed to moderate her tone in time. “That was the first time that has ever happened. Ever.” She emphasised.

Tatia paused, taking control of her wildly fluttering thoughts and emotions.

She wasn’t sure which thoughts were more prominent in her head. Was it the part of her that demanded answers to this strange phenomenon? Or was it that part of her that was jealous of her granddaughter for having such a ludicrously easy birth?

Tatia really didn’t want to entertain that second though, as she knew that she, herself, was still able to bear children and didn’t want to think about the uncomfortable conclusion to any possible, future, pregnancies.

“So,” she began then stopped. “It’s a boy.”

“… Yes,” Shael replied in a neutral tone.

“Do you suppose he’ll turn out to be another one of those useless playboys?”

Shael just face-palmed.

* * *

The next several days found Joram being passed back and forth between the family, everyone wanting to see the adorable baby.

The worst part of it was that there seemed to be a Universal Truth with people and babies: they liked to dress them up.

Now, he’d heard that even as recent as the beginning of the 20th Century back on Earth, people would still dress up their boys in dresses for family photos.

Now, he was also giving the Clear Knowledge Clan a bit of leeway due to their being a matriarchal clan and all…

But enough was enough!!

Who even wore pink in that shade?! Why must they insist on trussing up his hair with a spearmint-green bow? Who was deciding on these horrendous colour schemes?!

The last straw was when he was about to get a good meal and yet another random relative scooped him up and stuffed him into yet another outfit.

He could hardly see details with his eyes but could still see colour, and with the help of [Touchsight] (he’d had Avi make a pair of Sight Lenses for him that first day, then assimilated them) he was able to make out the rest of the details.

The outfit looked like a mini-emperor get-up in saffron yellow, with jade green trimming. Sure, it was made of the finest silk…

But no.

He tried to give his best [Death Glare], but its effectiveness seemed to be crippled when used in a new-born’s body.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!”

“What did you do to him?” Someone asked the offending party.

“Nothing! I was just going to change him into this wonderful outfit!” The offended defended.

“I don’t know,” a third person piped in. “I’d have the same reaction if someone wanted to put me in an outfit like that.”

*Cold stare*

Joram, however, was successfully rescued by Super-Mom. She swept in, made such skillful platitudes and assurances that none of it was their fault that when she whisked him away no one said a thing. Off to a quieter corner the went, Super-Mom setting Super-Dad to fend off the evildoers.

Soon enough, Joram was happily eating and cuddling his favourite human.

He nearly coughed at that.

What am I, the pet cat?!

Joram paused his wandering brain for a moment, bringing himself back to reality.

‘Avi?’

‘Yes?’

‘This baby brain is going to be a problem…’

* * *

Marowz Reursa had a headache.

He’d been trying for the last week to examine the newest addition to the Clan.

Every time he got close enough to examine the boy, he’d been stymied in his efforts.

Not that anyone would chase away someone of his auguste standing.

No.

It was the baby.

During the birth, he had been sure that he’d felt a shimmer of mental strength coming from the baby, but hadn’t been able to feel anything since.

It was beyond bizarre.

He’d been spending most of his free time perusing the Clan’s considerable library, seeing if he could find anything that could help explain what he’d felt.

Nothing.

Nothing in the library, nothing when he examined the baby.

Not only nothing, but he got the evil-eye whenever he held the baby.

From. The. Baby.

How in all of Creation had a baby come to poses such a look? Was he tainted by an evil spirit? Did he just have bad gas?

All-told, he had an almost constant headache due to the Matriarch pressing him for answers.

What could he say when there was nothing to “see”?

He had been so sure that he’d felt that whisp of mental strength, but now… now he wasn’t so sure.

Maybe it had been the young Mistress. Some sort of faint, inherent, bond with her offspring.

He rubbed a balm into his temples, hoping that his medicinal mix would do the trick.

He still had to report to the Matriarch today.

* * *

- Week 4 -

Joram lay in his bassinette, staring up at the contraption they’d hung above it to give him something to look at.

Was that also universal?

Maybe. But this thing was a bit different.

For one, he could detect magic coming off it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was for exactly, but he had noticed that the ambient mana had risen slightly.

The painted wooden caricatures dangling from the thing were probably just that: decoration. But the tiny crystals in the base of the unit, from which the caricatures hung, was the base of this enchanted item.

So, while he worked on his muscle coordination (reaching over and trying to pick up a stuffed toy one-handed), he studied the (what he called) [Wondrous Item].

It was enchanted. It had an effect. Therefore, he classified it as such.

The past few weeks had been lest eventful than his first week. The hype of a new baby had died down slightly, though he still had many people visiting.

Though one thing that had bothered him was that they’d gotten him a wetnurse.

Yes, a substitute food-source for the time when his mother had to be away during the day.

Sure, the lady was nice. She was even more well-endowed than his mother, which was saying something. But he supposed that having such large reservoirs of milk was useful when you now had to feed two babies.

Yes, there had been another baby born about ten days after he’d come along, and she was much more popular than he was.

Though, going by what people were saying, it didn’t really matter as much as the Heir of the Clan not having birthed a baby girl.

Why?

Well, this baby girl was a few times removed from the main family line. Something like a third cousin. Sure, they still had the same last name, but at that point, were you still considered related?

From what he’d gathered, she was the great-grand niece of the Matriarch (her brother’s-son’s-son’s-daughter). For a matriarchal clan like this one, that had put her pretty low on the totem pole of the clan’s hierarchy.

Thus, her mother – who’d married into the clan – was roped into being his wetnurse and babysitter.

He looked through the bars of his bassinette and saw his dinner companion happily giggling as she tried to reach for the dangling toys above her. No [Wondrous Item] for her though.

He wondered if he could somehow alter the effect to get her into the increased mana field…?

Anyway, he was impressed with her developing coordination.

He had goals of his own.

He’d already been able to roll over when he needed and was now working on sitting up.

Sure, that was already tremendous progress for an infant, but he wasn’t just any infant.

When he reached his goal of being able to sit up, hopefully by the time he was six weeks old, his next goal was to be standing (with the aid of furniture and such) by twelve weeks.

The trickiest part was doing it while not being watched, which meant that most of his practice was done at night while the adults were sleeping.

Why avoid the attention?

If they caught him, they’d likely faun all over him and then most of his free time would be gone.

The majority of his day was spent working in his realm with Avi trying to get the design for the pseudo-psicrystals (he needed to find a better name for them). If he could get those fully developed and made, then he’d be able to explore his home even while confined to the nursery.

Not to mention being able to do work even while Avi was out and about gathering supplied for them…

He looked over at his food-buddy again and wondered if he could help her train too.

* * *

“Sulia,” Ivaryn said as he nudged her. “It has been weeks, and we still haven’t found anything.”

Sulia looked up from her book and gave her fabulously patient husband a look. “Yes, but the archives are vast and we knew that it wouldn’t be an easy search.”

Ivaryn sighed. She knew that he longed to be playing with their son instead of reading in the Library.

Yes, capital “L”.

Their clan library was just a diversion, a front. Sure, it was considered to be the largest library outside of a provincial capital, but it wasn’t the true Library of the Clear Knowledge Clan.

The actual Library was set deep within the mountain that the clan resided next to. There were vast halls filled with shelves that went from floor to the twenty-foot ceiling, wheeled ladders everywhere. It was comprised of seven levels, all filled with encyclopedic knowledge that covered anything from cooking to alchemy, smithing to artifact refining, and so on.

They had a small army of archivists, librarians, and formation experts that tended to the Library day and night. New information was constantly being added to it and so various sections were constantly being added to.

It gave the feeling of a library that only had shelves that were half-full. Yes, the shelves were indeed half-full, but that was only to accommodate sections that were known to grow and thus needed the room.

What even Ivaryn didn’t know was that even this vast bastion of knowledge wasn’t the true treasure of the clan. No, that was what their clan kept hidden at all costs: The Heavenly Archive.

That place held all of the “sensitive” knowledge that her clan had been collecting for thousands of years.

It contained every secret spell they could find from Tier 1 to Tier 9, from low-grade to mid-grade to high-grade spells and techniques.

Probably the most controversial part of the Heavenly Archive was the sections devoted to the various cultivation techniques. From what they called “Body Tempering”, which was the preparatory stage, or Tier 0, as everyone called it, all the way to the mythical, well, “Mythical” stage, or Tier 9 for cultivators.

Sure, there were no living Tier 9s on their planet, but they had still managed to scrape together some things over their millennia-long search.

She was almost certain that the information that they sought wasn’t in the Heavenly Archive, that separate realm, but here in the “Bloodlines” section of the Library.

If anyone had come across the same thing they had with their son, then she was sure that someone had recorded it at some point.

The problem was that they didn’t feel that they could ask anyone for help, as they feared that their secret would get out. But they did indeed need help, as the “Bloodlines” section of the Library was an entire floor that rivalled most cities in size.

Sulia looked back to the dispirited Ivaryn, her love, her heart, and took pity on him.

“I can manage her for today. Why don’t you go and see how our son is doing?”

That livened him up.

* * *

- Week 11 –

Success!

Joram let out a manic giggle as he stood in his bassinet/crib thing, then promptly fell over again.

Well, it was progress, and one week ahead of schedule!

*More baby giggles*

He stopped, not wanting to risk waking his aunt in the middle of the night, let alone his baby cousin.

One had to look out for their juniors after all!

So, Joram rolled over again, got onto his hands and knees, then pulled himself up until he was standing. Good progress.

He stayed like that until his legs began to wobble and then finally gave out.

It is much harder practicing crawling while in bed, he mused as he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the mobile “formation”.

Sure, he had “belly” time during the day, but he had to keep his progress paralleled to that of his cousin. If they saw him crawling already, they’d flip.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

So he was forced to exercise his legs at night.

Almost two weeks ago he and Avi had managed to “crack” the mystery of how the mobile’s “formation” was able to gather mana.

Yes, “formation”. He’d overheard the adults speaking about it, and how it wasn’t quite fair that he was able to have one over his crib, but his cousin couldn’t.

Ah, the murmurs of “golden spoons”, he mused.

From what he’d been able to overhear from the adults’ conversations, the clan seemed to have a bit of a problem with “silk pants” and “playboys”. What a popular trope.

But in this case, it was his reality.

The men of the clan were basically ignored, and thus allowed to do pretty much what they wanted as they didn’t have as much value as the women of the clan.

*Cough*

Back to it, brain!

His tiny brain was making it hard to focus for long.

So, from what he gathered, “formations” were what people called enchantments here. It was more or less synonymous with “array” when describing them. Though, “arrays” seemed to be able to have a more active component to them, like someone being able to control aspects of them. While “formations” seemed to be more-or-less a set thing, though you could still turn it off and on again.

That said, it was hard to alter an existing formation without getting in there and fiddling with the physical side of it.

So, for now, he’d have to leave the quandary of helping his cousin to gain a mana-gathering formation.

Maybe I can figure out how to forcibly add someone to the network, then figure out how to get mana to flow over to her…

He sighed.

So much work to do…

* * *

“How is his progress?” Tatia asked as she was sitting for tea in once of the pagodas in her yard. It had a majestic view of the mountains that seemed to go well with tea.

“He’s a baby,” Shael replied as she added a dab of honey to her tea. “He’s doing well. His coordination is good, as are his reflexes. He can track things with his eyes, and even seems to be interested in looking at various paintings and illustrations.”

Tatia nodded and took a sip of the steaming tea as she watched a creature flying in the distance, so small that anyone below tier 5 would have probably missed it.

“And the girl?”

“Doing well enough,” Shael said, now sipping her tea then taking a nibble of a pastry. “Her progress isn’t as pronounced as his, but well within what one would expect of an infant her age.”

Tatia nodded, taking a pastry for herself, a plum jam filling hers. “Be sure that they both receive what they need.”

Shael gave her a level look. “Sure, then I’ll commission another gathering formation for her as well.”

Tatia blinked. “She doesn’t have one yet?”

Shael shook her head. “No, the quartermistress didn’t think someone so far removed from the main line would need one. I heard that she even dallied getting one for the boy, given that he wasn’t born a female.”

“Well, we shall have to fix that, shan’t we?” She said, a small smile forming on her youthful face. “You never know where a talent might pop up.”

Shael nodded, then took another bite from her lemon pastry, then a sip of tea. She was glad that Tatia was taking a more active role with the younger generation. She’d ignored them for far too long.

* * *

Sulia watched Ivaryn as he dozed, as book half propped up on his head as he lay face-first, slumped over on the table.

He was doing his best, but he truly was a warrior first, a scholar… fifteenth.

She wondered if Joram would take after his father or inherit her clan’s strong love of books and learning. She suspected that he would lean towards the more scholarly path, as she always felt a keen interest coming from their bond whenever she spoke about books around him.

She’d even started brining home some children’s books to read to him in the evenings. She’d been pleasantly surprised to see him wiggle over to look at the simple book as she read it to him during nursing time.

She wasn’t quite sure, but she thought that he might be working on copying their words. Granted, most of what came out of his mouth was either laughter or cooing, but those coos were sounding more and more like he was trying to say something.

Sulia shook her head, dismissing those fancies.

What infant could speak at such an age? Was she affected by the tendency of a new parent to see things that weren’t actually there? Or, in this case, to hear what wasn’t said?

She rubbed at her eyes a bit, trying to bring herself back to the moment, and to wake herself up a bit. It was tiring work, going through the Bloodlines archives. She, herself, wanted nothing more than to go back and cuddle her baby, and she feared that they wouldn’t be able to bond properly with her being gone for so long each day.

Maybe she could bring little Joram with her soon. Yes. Yes, since he was still immobile, this would be the best time to bring him. She was sure that he’d be OK in a crib while she read, or she could even cuddle him while reading!

Nursing and reading. What could be better?

* * *

“No,” Matriarch Tatia Aneath told her.

Sulia blinked as her grandmother as she sat in a small tearoom in her grandmother’s home.

“But why not?” Was all she could think to ask.

Her grandmother gave her a look that said that the answer should have been obvious.

“You cannot bring the mana-gathering formation inside the Library.”

Sulia paused in answering, realizing that that was indeed true. But.

“I won’t need the formation there,” she said. “Neither does he need to be in it at all times. Aloralla tells me that he plays outside of his crib most of the day when he’s not eating or napping. How would this be any different?”

“These are his formative months; he needs to be in an enriching environment for the best development.”

“Well, what better enriching than his mother’s milk? If he is with me, then he can have access to much better food than Aloralla can provide.”

That gave her grandmother pause. They both knew that Aloralla was only at the end of Tier 2 while Sulia was at Rank eight of Tier 3.

“Agreed,” she said, causing Sulia to blink at how fast she’d agreed. “Provided that you wear him while he sleeps, and he can nurse whenever he needs.”

Sulia bristled a bit at that. Of course she’d feed him whenever he needed! “Deal!”

And that is how Aloralla’s daughter got her own mana-gathering formation.

* * *

Joram couldn’t believe his eyes.

Well, they were still developing, so he was astonished at what [Touchsight] was giving him.

He was in an absolutely cavernous library filled with bookshelves as far as the eye could see. And further, because his eyes kinda sucked at the moment.

Everywhere within a hundred twenty feet or so just showed up as massive bookshelves.

He just couldn’t believe it. Not even the largest libraries back home could compare.

And he was stuck in a baby-carrier. One of those kanga-pouch style ones that allowed him to be carried hands-free, but also allowed him to get a snack whenever needed.

He’d play it cool. Yes, that was the ticket. He only needed a small part of his body outside of the kanga-pouch to be able to “see”, you see.

Har-har.

Ah, the puns. He still had it.

*Sigh*

What was this body doing to his psyche? He really hoped that he’d get better as he grew up.

Back to the library! Also, listening to his mother’s explanation!

“… and this is the section for the Bloodline records. It houses all the records of the major houses, clans, and sects’ births. We record anything that comes up, like if someone shows an affinity to one of the elements, or if they inherited a trait from an ancestor.

“Inherited traits are very rare, as the one passing them down usually have to be tier 7 or higher when their conceive their progeny…”

Huh.

“… and because there are so few tier 7s around, it is thus easier to actually get records on any traits that have been passed along,” she explained as several people looked at her oddly as she passed.

“Oh, you’re probably wondering what makes tier 7 so special,” she said. “Well, tier 7 is colloquially known as the Immortal Realm, or on the Zhizun Zhanshi Continent. They love their naming conventions there. A new name for everything,” she said, shaking her head.

“We like more standardized naming conventions. For example. What people normally call “Tier 1” is actually the second step in preparing yourself to become a Mage or a Cultivator.

“The first step, or tier 0, is where you prepare your body to be able to house the mana you’ll need as a Mage or a Cultivator,” she said, then looked around, found no one, and went on.

“You see, they’re really the same thing,” she whispered to him. “They have their weird cultivation techniques that primarily focus on making the body stronger, making fighters that can smash mountains with a single palm. We, however, focus on using the mana to cast spells. Neither is wrong, it just really depends on your own aptitude for either path.”

Maybe I’m not actually in a wuxia world after all? He mused as he absorbed the data-dump his mother was providing.

“You see,” she said quietly, still looking around for anyone who might overhear. “We may have six levels worth of books, manuscripts, scrolls, and such, with a seventh being worked on as we speak, but…” She stopped there with a grin as she looked down at him.

“But the good stuff isn’t here; it’s hidden,” she finished as she approached a table where someone was already sitting, or rather, slumped at. Upon further inspection, he found that it was his father.

Ah, the forced study session. How brave my father is!

“I’m back, Dear,” Mother said to Father as she pulled out a chair to sit in.

It took a bit of shifting, but they managed to fit at the table.

Joram went back to nursing, enjoying the better-tasting milk that his mother provided, but still listening in, and “watching”.

“Oh?! You convinced that ice cube, did you?” Father asked as he sat up properly in his chair.

Mother just gave Father a sassy look. “Yes, our son can be with us as we search.”

‘Avi!’ Joram sent, terribly excited.

‘Joram!’

He paused. Was she also being affected by his infant brain?

‘You’d never guess where I am!’

‘… you’re eating.’

‘But where am I eating?!’ He sent as he unlatched for a moment to peek his head out of the kanga-pouch so Avi could see better.

‘You’re kidding,’ she sent, astonishment coming through their connection.

‘Mom just told me that this place has six levels to it, and they’re working on the seventh!’

‘That is rather impressive,’ Avi sent.

He could feel her interest oozing through their connection now.

‘What do you say to heading out to explore… copying some books…? Finding the “hidden” section?’

‘Let me know when it’s safe!’ She replied with a huge mental grin attached.

“… just saying that maybe our son would enjoy taking a walk with me, is all,” Father was saying, seemingly attempting to convince his wife to let him slack off with their son.

“Well, he does seem to be full…” his mother replied in a grudging tone.

Soon enough, his mother was covered up and the kanga-pouch was rewrapped around his father, then he was being re-tucked into it.

Joram sighed. His father might be in excellent physical shape, akin to a Greek god, but it made for a less-than-comfortable ride. Muscles that were hard as rocks just weren’t comfy to lay against.

He did, however, stifle his protests as it allowed him to see more of the Library… and to drop Avi off so that she could explore.

* * *

Avi watched through Joram’s eyes as he bounced along in his pouch. She was very much looking forward to being out and about so that she could “see” better. She just hoped that his vision got better soon.

Soon enough, Joram gave her the “go-ahead” and she slipped out of his foot that he’d stuck out of his wrap.

She quickly manifested her legs and wings and landed gently on the ground, quickly scuttling behind a bookshelf.

“Did you hear something?” Ivaryn asked Joram as he paused to look around.

“Pffffft!” Joram gave a raspberry in response, making Ivaryn laugh.

“Nevermind, let’s go,” he said. “As I was saying, this library is a bit boring. We should spend more time outside…” his voice trailed off as he went around a corner.

‘Safe!’ Joram sent with a mental thumbs-up.

‘Indeed.’

When she could hear no one else nearby, she carefully climbed the bookshelf and began reading titles.

“Clan Tordave, generations XII to IX”

“Clan Tordec, generations XII to IX”

This might get a little boring, Avi mused as she spent the next several hours going from section to section, reading the section name written on the side of each case, realizing that this whole floor was likely focussed on “Bloodlines” like Joram had told her.

Then, finally, she found the way down to the next level.

It was a grand staircase that was nonetheless simple in design. The stairs were a good twenty feet wide and had the standard stairwell design, though carved murals made the walk down more interesting than most.

What gave her pause, however, were the formations that she saw glowing all around the staircase.

What could those be?

Though she wasn’t very well versed in magical theory, she nevertheless had Altaea’s knowledge to draw upon. So, draw upon it she did.

After another few minutes of comparing her notes to what was in front of her, she realized that even though both realms used magic, they were completely different in their individual approaches.

While Altaea’s world’s magic system could be describes as “writing code”, this one was more based on diagrams and, well, geometry. It focused on using those shapes, and some “words”, to create a magical “circuit”, that once completed, would then fire off the desired effect.

What she basically got from this, and she hoped that she was right, was that it was divination focussed. Probably to detect if someone went past without the proper permissions.

After pondering the issue for a few minutes, Avi made up her mind.

[Barred Mind]

With that going she slowly snuck along the ceiling (because really, who looked up?) and approached the wards. Well, “formations”.

Bah. A ward was a ward was a ward.

She just hoped that its detections were based around divination. Worst-case, she had now physically been to the Library, so she could just [Planeshift] back here if something went terribly wrong.

The thought didn’t make her any less nervous. She knew, intellectually, that her body would just reform if it should be destroyed, and that her consciousness was tied to Joram… But she would much rather prefer not to have to go through that experience herself.

What if she wound up like Joram, unable to come back right away? Would that leave Joram alone in this place? Would he have to wait a thousand years for her return?

Deep breath, Avi told herself. Yes, no lungs. But she could take a moment to clear her thoughts, and so she did.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She stepped across the metaphysical line and paused, waiting to see if anything happened. And waited.

After a good minute of nothing happening, she hurried along, not wanting to waste any more time than she needed.

* * *

- Week 14 –

Fun fact, each week was still seven days here, Joram found out. Then each month had twenty-eight days, and there were thirteen months to the year.

So, pretty much the same as earth. Which was weird, but OK.

The weirdest part was that each of the seven moons followed the same lunar cycle… exactly twenty-eight days.

It felt… artificial. Like, what were the odds of a planet having such a regular orbit, nevermind the moons?

Well, it was pretty easy to remember his birthday and the lunar phase of when he was born. The fourteenth day of the thirteenth month, a New Moon. Which meant that he’d be officially named on the second day of the fourth month…

Ah, well, at least things were fairly easy to keep track of. Though, they still used the Imperial System for some reason… Well, no one was perfect.

With all that said, it meant that he only had a couple of days before he was to appear before the entire Clan to be named.

Downsides:

* He had to be at the gathering.

* They would dress him up all fancy-like…

* He’d be passed around like a blunt at a party.

* He couldn’t just zone out because everyone would be paying attention to him and would be expecting a reaction to their antics.

* Mealtime would likely be deferred…

* Yes, he still had the ring of sustenance assimilated, but the added nutrients and mana was super-helpful for his growth and developing immune system.

Upsides:

* He could possibly play up being cute to further ingratiate himself with his relatives.

* Cuddles were, admittedly, kinda nice…

*Ahem*

Currently, he was being patient as could be while a seamstress took his measurements for the outfit that he’d be subjected to for the naming ceremony after having decided on the material and the colour.

He was very glad that it was his great-grandmother who was in charge of the colour scheme of his outfit, as his one aunt had horrible taste (in his not-so-humble opinion).

He was still amazed that a person who was nearly two hundred years old looked so good. She didn’t look a day over thirty, if you were being unkind. She actually looked like she was in her late twenties… and a supermodel. No, it wasn’t the application of copious amounts of makeup, nor was it an illusion. It was the side benefit of being a high-tier Mage.

Another fun fact he’d learned: people more or less stopped aging for a time every time they tiered-up.

Oh, his old world would have been so envious they’d likely have vomited blood…

Maybe it was a side-effect of cultivation? Because almost every woman here looked like they could be a cover-girl, without the airbrushing.

He wondered if he’d wind up being an attractive person in this life. He’d been somewhat average back home, so, yeah…

He would have already started trying to become a mage already, except it was “common knowledge” that one could only start learning magic as one entered adolescence.

Was it some sort of hormonal trigger that allowed the body to start “cultivating”? He wasn’t sure, but so far Avi had been able to copy down all the basics of how one started to cultivate, and it was… varied.

Some could start a bit younger, others: later. There was also the factor of which cultivation method you used.

As per the universal wuxia rules, cultivation methods came in varying efficacies. Thus, finding a “good” one would allow for a person to go further along the path of Magic/Cultivation than someone who got an average method.

“Ah, that jade circlet will go perfectly with his eyes,” his great-grandmother practically cooed.

He looked over at the thin circlet and sighed. His head was, finally, more-or-less solid now and so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable to wear.

“Ooooooh, it looks like he likes it too!” The seamstress practically squealed.

OK, she’d now renamed the “Baby-Maniac”, he thought to himself as he grabbed the circlet so he could get a better look at it as his eyes still weren’t that great.

Alas, the adults didn’t think that he was trusted enough to hold the valuable item and took it away almost instantly.

“Where do you suppose he learned to glare like that?” Another aunt/cousin/something asked with feigned affront. It was ruined by the laughter threatening to bubble out.

“I don’t know, but he’ll surely be able to stop a charging bull with it when he’s older,” his mother piped in, pleased as a bear in a beehive. She was of the opinion that he should be a great manly-man of a scholar. How she managed to get those two images to jive, he didn’t know.

”Oh, please,” another aunt started. “He’ll be far too handsome to scare a fly!”

That elicited a round of laughter and giggles from the gathered women and young women. Not that there were that many of them, but it was enough. His introverted side was starting to tingle.

Ah, baby-struck women, he sighed. Not that I’m any better…

He looked over at his younger cousin and smiled. She’d already fallen into a food coma, softly snoring. He also heard that another one of his aunts (the baby would be a second cousin) was due any day now. It must have been a busy time of the year… lol.

Yes, he was in trouble. Because as soon as he was strong enough to start carrying things while walking, he’d likely be sneaking over for baby cuddles of his own.

Man, he missed those…

Well!

He looked around again, noting that things seemed to be wrapping up. He watched as the baby-maniac packed up and took her leave, bowing to his great-grandmother (hmm, maybe “Grammy”?) as she left.

Soon enough, he was packed up and brought to the clan nursery and deposited along with Xiao’Er (yeah, he totally just took that from the many wuxia he’d read), left to do their own thing as aunty Aloralla sat in a rocking chair and pulled out knitting materials from her storage ring.

That was one thing that he really wanted to get his hands on and investigate. The mythical “storage ring” in countless stories from his world. Did they need a special material here, like some stories claimed? Or did they just need the appropriate “understanding” of the Dao of Space?

So much to learn!!

Anyways, he had been surprised at first that a “noble” of a clan such as theirs would have the hobby, but then remembered that she was barely considered part of the main family due to her husband being the third first-born son in his line, going back to Grammy’s brother. So, Grammy’s brother’s son’s, son’s, daughter. Auntie-in-law meant a lower status, but was still respected due to being a woman.

He shrugged. Maybe her family had been “commoners” or something. Either way, he hoped that he could get a great-big scarf one day. He loved those.

At any rate, he was pretty sure that he’d had the right insights to forcibly adding someone to his network, and thus wanted to try it out on Xiao’Er, and so he rolled on over to her play-pad and handed her a toy to distract her.

Why roll? Well, he still wasn’t ready to show his hand. He knew that they’d be expecting him to crawl soon… but rolling around on the floor was kinda fun. People looked at you weird if you did that as an adult after all.

Xiao’Er was successfully distracted, so he got started.

It was rather… anticlimactic. He’d only needed to concentrate for a moment, and she was “in”. He felt the burst of emotions rush through the network, telling him that he had indeed succeeded.

Welp, on to “nap time”, as he wanted to get on with his pseudo-psicrystal research.

He hoped that his mom would take him to the library again tomorrow…

* * *

Sulia sighed. She really was beginning to this that Joram’s situation was unique.

Almost thirteen weeks of searching had turned up almost nothing. Sure, there were cases of where a child of six or seven years old had shown an aptitude for mental strength, but that was it.

Another sigh.

Well, she may as well go through the Heavenly Archive to start looking for an appropriate mental strength cultivation technique.

So, she packed up what she’d been going through, and headed to the inner stairwell, but stopped at the first landing down and looked around.

Seeing no one, she touched a section of the wall and watched as a small doorway appeared. With another quick look around, she opened the door and slipped inside, the door vanishing behind her as she closed it.

She didn’t notice her stowaway.

* * *

Aloralla smiled as she watched the two infants, her hands on autopilot.

She’d been hearing the murmuring of clan-hens and was still surprised. She’d thought that marrying into a larger clan would be different than living in her old one.

No, it actually seemed worse.

The bickering and infighting for resources was even worse, as the Clear Knowledge Clan had many more of the younger generation to nurture, and everyone was fighting all the harder after the clan’s young mistress had delivered a boy instead of girl.

Oh, the murmuring.

Not to say that she, herself, was disappointed that Sulia’s union had produced a male heir. No, she was a bit happy even. For she had been blessed with a daughter, the first in her husband’s line since his great-grandmother, her daughter’s great-great-grandmother.

People were saying that their line might be on the rise, if her daughter proved capable enough that is.

She shrugged.

She’d only ever wanted a comfortable life for her family, and she was indeed comfortable here.

She smiled again as she watched Sulia’s boy fall asleep next to her daughter. In her little village, third cousins weren’t considered related, especially after having a daughter after so many generations of males. She entertained a few fantasies of how good the two would get along, hoping that they’d – at the very least – look after each other as they grew up.

Especially with the proverbial sharks circling the waters.

Even being Sulia’s boy, he’d have a hard time competing with his female cousins for the best resources in the clan, as their parents were already maneuvering behind the scenes.

If he’d been just about anywhere else, she was sure that the boy would have a decent chance at it. But at the same time, Sulia was the fourth child, and the only female at that. So, her son would still have had a hard time competing with the other members of the younger generation.

Well, if the two children proved capable enough, then they might stand a chance.

Coming out of her thoughts, she noticed that her little girl had also fallen asleep. Cuddling him.

*Cuteness overload*.

* * *

- Naming Ceremony –

Sulia was dressed in her best; a long silk robe, the same shade of purple as her hair that was tied back with heart-jade pins. Ivaryn, to her right, was dressed similarly, though his robe was black, with purple trim, also the same shade as her hair.

It was a… unique family tradition that the woman wears a robe the same shade as her hair and her husband or consort wear one of his hair-colour; but trimmed with his wife’s hair colour. She didn’t know who’d come up with the tradition, but it made these gathering annoying to prepare for.

Why? Well, their clan was unusual in that their hair colour changed over the years. Either going a lighter shade as they aged, or actually deepening. They weren’t sure what decided if someone went lighter or deeper, as every factor they’d considered led to random results.

With a mental shake of the head, she focussed on the ceremony.

The Clan Matriarch stood at the head of the hall on a low dais, with a slender jade stand topped by a white velvet cushion, the small jade circlet that Joram would wear sitting on it.

She carried Joram in her arms as she slowly walked down the centre aisle with Ivaryn, along a ridiculously long carpet. Also purple. Well, aubergine. One had to know the various shade of purple in her clan, after all.

Sulia didn’t look to either side as she walked but instead kept her eyes on the Matriarch. She had always thought that she was the prettiest woman that she’d ever seen. Regal, but kind… when she wasn’t being the Matriarch, but instead being her grandmother.

Her own parents spent more time out of the clan home than they did at home, so her grandmother wound up being more of a mother to her over the years. So, it had hurt that she hadn’t approved of her marrying Ivaryn and had stopped speaking with her for a few years.

Now, years later, she was bringing her own child to be named.

She nearly teared-up.

Her parents were still out on assignment, not able to be there for the naming ceremony. She hoped that someone would be recording the ceremony for her parents to watch once they returned. She kicked herself for not having arranged for it. Being forgetful was getting very tiring. She hoped that it would soon pass.

She needed to pay attention. She was distracting herself too much.

They were almost there.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

No crying.

* * *

The only way Sulia could have made her happier is if she’d had a daughter… and gotten her approval…

Tatia smiled, ever-so-slightly, as she watched her favourite granddaughter approaching, ignoring her husband. He was just so… disrespectful. And not her first choice, nor her thirtieth.

But here they were, and she just had to accept it. If she had to admit it – only to herself! – he wasn’t that bad a choice. He was third tier Sword Saint already at the 10th rank, at the doorway to the 4th tier. It was only a matter of time before he broke through to the fourth tier. His talent was amazing, being only twenty-two and almost being at tier 4.

She wondered if great-grandson would follow after Sulia or Ivaryn. Sulia, an exemplary Mage and Scholar. Ivaryn, a Sword Saint, mixing the sword with sorcery. A front-line fighter that, admittedly, was a good pairing with her daughter, as he would be her meat-shield in any fight…

She nearly frowned.

They’d nearly lost Sulia before her baby had arrived, and if not for having some invisible benefactor, Tatia wouldn’t be watching her beloved granddaughter approaching for her first naming ceremony.

Slow, deep, breath in. Slow breath out.

She was nearly two hundred years old; she would not cry.

* * *

“… present you, Joram Aneath, first of his name,” Matriarch Aneath proclaimed as she placed the jade circlet on his head.

For his part, Joram kept still and proper, not complaining about how cold the thing was. He even tried to give his most regal smile, even waving like his queen of old, much to the delight of the gathered clan.

He didn’t know what the significance of the jade circlet was as he was not going to be declared heir of the clan or anything. He shrugged.

Then it was done and was being showed off to the rest of the clan that hadn’t seen him yet. Every one of the newcomers exclaimed at how lush his light purple hair was, almost a lilac. He silently wondered if his hair would deepen in colour like his mother’s. It would certainly look better.

Then came the passing around, going from one aunt to another, then one cousin to another, round and round. He certainly made the best of it, snuggling into the bosom of each until they had the thought that maybe he was hungry.

A nice lunch later, and the passing about started again.

Well, at least he was full.

That would have been a good thing, until one uncle/cousin got him and decided that it was the most brilliant idea to toss him up into the air… repeatedly.

Sure, it was fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been thrown around like that… that wasn’t training and ended with a *thump!*.

Unfortunately, his tiny body wasn’t on the same page as his brain and decided that churning the milk in his belly to butter wasn’t what it wanted, so up it went.

Shaken, not stirred. He was sure spinning would have worked out better…

Joram gave the young man his best glare for having ruined lunch, then did his best to motion for his mother to come over to rectify the situation.

He got Aunt Aloralla instead.

Well, that was also acceptable, as she had ample… food stores.

That also earned him some coos from the younger women, and respect from the mothers, as his eating etiquette was impeccable. No extra wiggling, no pinching hands, and especially no gnawing.

Little did he know that there were silent waves of envy flowing his mother’s way, earning her some little ire. Especially hearing how “easy” the birth had been.

Who was this almost perfect child?

Why “almost”?

He wasn’t a “she”.

* * *

Avi watched through Joram’s eyes as she worked on her puzzle. She really didn’t envy Joram being passed around like a rare treasure being inspected by merchants.

Back to the task at hand.

She’d spent the last two weeks going over the magical theory of this world. Their use of geometry in their magic was puzzling, but not overly complex.

Thus, she was pretty sure that she’d figured out the trick to the antechamber that led to the interesting part of the Library.

She’d thought that she could just hitch a ride on Sulia and that would be it.

Nope.

She’d been somehow bounced away by the portal itself. Hence the studying.

What she’d found wasn’t very encouraging.

If what she could understand of the formations that made up both the portal and its wards was accurate, then she couldn’t bypass the wards without disrupting the portal, and thus breaking it. The wards also seemed to be tied to the Aneath bloodline, if Sulia entering without issue was any clue.

Would she need Joram? Or would she need a female member of the clan? It was, after all, a matriarchy and thus the wards were more likely to be tuned to the women instead of the men, like patriarchal families did.

Maybe if she could watch the portal open a few more times, then she might be able to get enough of a feel for the dimensional fluctuation to maybe just [Planeshift] in.

Camping time.

* * *

Joram reflexively kicked the damn healer in the face after having been pricked in the heal to draw blood for his entry into his Bloodlines records of the clan.

Now, that wouldn’t have been an issue with a normal baby, but Joram was far from normal. The inner strength that he’d worked so hard on with Altaea had been slowly returning to him as his muscle coordination improved.

Thus, it resulted in breaking the healer’s nose and causing a minor fountain of blood to spray forth, spattering on the same white cushion that his circlet had rested upon, the same one that he’d been laid upon to get this part of the naming ceremony done.

Everyone stared.

Ivaryn laughed so hard that he nearly fell over.

Oh, crap. The damn cat escaped.