It was a short walk to the parlour that Grammy had set aside for his birthday gathering. The parlour itself was almost a gazebo, it was so open. Though, at this time of the year they’d installed the expensive glass windows again to help keep in the warmth. He was impressed with the craftsmanship of the glass, not seeing a single bubble in any of them. Sure, they weren’t perfectly flat, but they were very close.
Joram smiled and nodded, cupping his hands in the traditional form of greeting. First to Grammy, then to Aunt Selussa and Uncle Vulen, then to Aunt Aloralla and Uncle Ailmar. It was always important to greet people in the proper order. They were touchy about status and all that.
“It’s good to see you Joram,” Grammy said as she stood to greet him, which still caused people to blink in surprise. “How has your day been?”
“Really good,” he said, giving her a big smile and a thumbs-up.
Yes, she was the reason that he’d been nearly bored out of his mind this last year, but she hadn’t been unkind either. Even with classes that lasted ten hours per day, he was still able to have a break every two hours to stretch his legs and have a snack if he needed. Yes, it was grueling having to learn for such extended periods of time, but he had learned to switch out which mind was paying attention and do other things at the same time, so it didn’t wind up being so bad.
Sure, the drain on his psionic reserves was intense, but with the Becoming One conversion technique, he was just able to get through the day before he was sucked dry. That being said, he was definitely noticing that his mana reserves were getting deeper as his proficiency with Becoming Once increased. Together with his ever-improving Knowledge Star, he was sure that once he hit Tier 2, he’d have loads of energy left at the end of a day where he’d been constantly running [Schism].
Grammy smiled at him, though he noticed that it was just slightly strained, likely because of the unusual gesture on his part.
“Come, let us sit and talk,” she said as she motioned Joram to sit at the large table with the rest of the family.
It was a round table, large enough to accommodate all nine of them, with the children sitting to their mother’s right, sandwiched between their parents. It made any conversation between the children more difficult, but that was probably the point. The adults didn’t like interruptions when they spoke.
“So, what are your plans for this year,” Grammy asked as a servant placed a tray of finger food in front of him. Then another two servants placed similar trays in front of his other relatives. Ah, rank.
“Umm,” he hedged, not quite sure what she was expecting to hear with the extended family in the room. “To get good grades!” He finally decided on, much to the amusement of Grammy and the pleasure of his aunts. Xixi smiled, though Zanth made a face.
Grammy caught herself and put that strained smile on her face again, but nodded. “Good to hear. One must always strive to learn as much as they can.”
Joram nodded along as he began pilfering the snacks. They actually had a version of lumpia, one of his favourite Filipino foods. This version, though, had monster meat instead of chicken or shrimp, though he was more partial to chicken over shrimp anyways. Heck, the monster meat was even from a flying type monster, so it even tasted a bit like chicken.
Other than that, there were many other things present. Since he could once again eat eggs, he’d managed to convince one of the clan chefs to experiment with making a few different things. Like mayonnaise and yellow mustard.
Very simple things, but they had proved to be wildly popular, especially when he’d helped mix up a batch of devilled eggs. Man, he’d missed those.
That said, he’d gotten into a bit of hot water with Grammy over the attention he’d gained from such exploits. After that, she’d made sure that he came to her first with any new recipes so that she could pass them along without attracting unwanted attention.
Heck, from there he’d practically inundated Grammy with recipes that he missed. They’d spent hours upon hours going over various herbs and spices trying to match them up to what Joram knew from his world. Or at least find something that tasted reasonably similar to them.
So it was that his plate filled up with lumpia, devilled eggs, a blooming onion, and sweet potato fries. It was quite the mix, but it was his birthday, so he didn’t mind the looks he was getting from his aunts, nevermind his uncles. Grammy was already used to it though.
The next hour passed with inconsequential chit-chat, covering the mundane goings-on of the clan and news of the outside world. They were quite secluded on their mountain, so news from the larger world was always a hot topic, even with reports coming in daily.
Joram didn’t mind them though, as he was able to eat while chatting with Xixi and Zanth over the Network, hearing their complaints about how their parents had forced them to dress up and to stay in their seats.
He really couldn’t blame them, as he also wanted to get up and play after having cleaned his little plate three times, much to the astonishment of even Grammy. Maybe he really was starting a growth spurt.
After the dishes and trays had been cleared, Grammy motioned to another pair of servants who then came forward to place several presents on the table in front of her. He could feel Xixi’s and Zanth’s excitement leaking into the Network as they eyed the presents. Again, he couldn’t say anything because he knew how enticing a present was to a child. Heck, even he wasn’t immune, his own heartrate increasing as his excitement grew.
“We shall start with the one from your parents,” Grammy said as she handed him a small box tied with an aubergine ribbon.
He was careful to take the box in both hands and give a quick nod in thanks before he placed it in front of him. With slightly trembling hands, he reached out and undid the silk ribbon and opened the wooden box.
Inside was a plush velvet cushion that matched the ribbon. Tucked into a crease in the middle of it was a black metal ring standing up, half engulfed by the cushion.
He blinked, then looked over to his great-grandmother, who smiled at him.
“They wanted you to have a storage ring,” she said by way of explanation. “It is only a minor one, able to store about one cubic metre of materials, but should be more than enough for you right now.”
Joram blinked at that. That was still a lot of space, more than what a Haversack could hold. He then smiled, reached out and took the ring. It was heavier than it looked, and cool to the touch.
After a few moments of turning it over again and again in his hands, he slipped it onto the middle finder of his right hand and smiled as it resized to fit his tiny finder.
He didn’t miss the silent look between Selussa and Vulen though.
What’s that about?
But they soon passed from his mind as Grammy placed another present in front of him, this one also in a small box tied with a ribbon, this one closer to violet, but a shade darker.
“This is from your Aunty Selussa and Uncle Vulen,” she said as he took the box from her in his both hands and a nod. He then turned to them, box still in hand, and also gave them a nod of thanks.
Pleasantries done, he quickly slipped the ribbon off and opened the box. Sure enough, there was another velvet cushion that matched the ribbon along with another ring. This one, however, looked to be made from a deep green jade.
“This one is an artifact that allows you to use [Cleanse] three times per day,” Grammy explained with a wry grin. “So that you’ll always be presentable.”
With a supreme effort of will, he managed to keep his eyebrow from twitching as he retrieved the ring and slid it onto the middle finder of his left hand where it also resized to fit his tiny digit.
“Many thanks Aunty and Uncle,” Joram said as he cupped his hands together and gave them another bob of the head.
That received approving nods from them as they gave a few platitudes.
“This one is from your Aunty Aloralla and Uncle Ailmar,” she said as she handed him the second-to-last present.
This box was somewhat larger than a ring box, being a foot long and half that wide. It was, of course, colour themed to Aloralla’s hair, as was the custom with present giving in the clan. It took him all of two seconds to get the ribbon off and open the lid.
Inside was a hand-knit scarf of the finest wool. Well, it was an animal similar to a sheep, but about the size of a cow. Nevertheless, it provided exceptionally soft wool… and was also quite tasty….
The main colour was the same shade of purple as his hair, while the zig-zag pattern was done in the same shade as Xixi’s green lock of hair in her bangs. And on one end someone had embroidered his initials. Judging by the less-than optimally shaped letters, he guessed that it had been Xixi herself that had added that final touch.
From the corner of his eye he spied Uncle Vulen’s less than impressed expression, but he covered it up quick enough when Selussa kicked him under the table.
Suppressing a grin, he hopped down from his chair and hurried over to Xixi and gave her a big hug.
“Thank you Xixi,” he said, choking up slightly as he did.
That surprised him more than his hug had surprised Xixi. He hadn’t expected to be so touched by the gesture.
He was glad that he was.
“You’re welcome,” Xixi replied, also squeezing for all she was worth.
After a few moments of huggles, he excused himself and returned to his seat between Grammy and Tillia.
“Lastly, this one is from me,” Grammy said as she handed him a small box slightly larger than the ring boxes, but definitely smaller than the scarf box.
Joram regarded the box for a moment, then raised it to his ear and gave it a gentle shake, which elicited raised eyebrows from everyone at the table.
It gave a faint thudding sound, indicating something solid. It wasn’t too heavy, less than a kilo. He regarded it for a few moments longer, causing those around the table to arch their eyebrows further.
At length, he undid the silk ribbon and slid it off. He looked up at Grammy again, saw that Look, then hurried to open the box.
Inside, on yet another satin cushion, sat a small purple jade plaque. If he were to guess, it was probably Sky Nether Jade. He had no idea why it was called that, but it possessed a quality that helped refresh the mind when carried on your person.
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Now, that wasn’t the most remarkable thing about the plaque. No, the most remarkable thing was that it was carved to show the Clan’s crest, a scroll hanging in the night sky filled with stars. Now, the thing about the stars was that the more there were on the plaque, the higher your clearance; from one to nine.
His had three.
Now, one might be tempted to think that that wasn’t very good, but when taken into perspective, those three stars allowed a clan member to visit up to the 3rd Floor of the Library. It also allowed for a certain number of resources to be withdrawn from the clan storehouse each month. Three stars was the same clearance level that Healer Reursa enjoyed.
His uncles and aunts shared looks, as their levels of clearance were only Tier 4.
Remembering his manners, he quickly cupped his hands and said, “Many thanks Great-Grandmother.”
Grammy finally smiled a genuine smile and patted his head. “You have become a very responsible youth, so please continue to walk the straight and narrow path,” she said, causing his left eye to twitch, his face pale.
No, it wasn’t the admonition that caused the reaction, but the words that she had used. It threw him back to his days on Earth, where it had been a common saying at church, particular to his faith.
He felt a pang then and realized that he’d not given thought to his faith since before Altaea had left him. It left a hollow kind of feeling in his chest, making it hard to breath for a few moments. As his head dropped so that he could try to breath through it, he noticed the concerned look on everyone’s face through [Touchsight]. He really had no way to explain to anyone besides Grammy what had happened, and really hoped that they wouldn’t question him too much about it.
He didn’t know when she had started, but he finally noticed that Tillia was rubbing his back, whispering in a soothing tone for him to just breath in and out, in and out.
‘Are you OK, Jo?’ Xixi sent, concern evident on her face.
‘I’ll be OK, it is just a lot,’ he sent back, not wanting to worry her dear heart.
He got a nod back, but she still looked unconvinced.
“I see that Joram has taken this responsibility to heart; I am glad,” Grammy said, likely to help cover for him.
Quiet chatter ensued as he regained his composure, giving everyone an embarrassed smile and apologies for the unbecoming display. To which everyone waved it off. That was more than OK with him.
When he’d regained his colour, Grammy suggested they play for a while, to get some fresh air.
He was more than good with that, so he grabbed his new scarf and chased after Xixi and Zanth as they rushed outside to play in a thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before.
“Wow, you got a storage ring,” Zanth practically drooled as they stopped by a tree to catch their breath.
“Imagine what you can put in there…” Xixi said, also staring at the ring.
Joram grinned. “Yeah, I can store a lot of snowballs!” He said, putting his words to action as he scooped up snow and formed a snowball right there.
Both their eyes grew very wide, then they both took off screaming in glee.
* * * * *
Tatia watched the children play from the corner of her eye as she continued to chat. Joram storing away snowballs for later use wasn’t exactly original, but it was effective. She gave him a few marks for that.
What she was concerned about, however, was his reaction to her words. Why would he react like that to asking him to keep on the Righteous Path? Had he already done something that warranted concern? Had he done something to hurt the clan? Or was he planning on it?
She didn’t think so, as she prided herself on being a sharp judge of character. So, what was it?
The question continued to vex her even after everyone excused themselves from the small gathering, and even after she’d retired to her chambers.
His reactions to his presents were, what she’d consider, normal. Well, the reaction to the scarf was more than she thought it would have been, but still within the realm of “normal”.
Even his reaction to the Authority Token was within expectations, just not his reaction to her words.
Did it have something to do with his previous life? It was a common enough saying in this world, going back thousands of years to the times of troubles after the Great Cataclysm when people had reverted to such an extent that they resembled beasts in their actions.
She wasn’t sure who the leader of the Righteous Faction was at that time, as the records had been lost, but that leader had made that saying popular to the point that it was still in use twenty thousand years later.
Did he have a connection to someone who’d said those words to him before?
She shook her head, remembering that the first person that he’d met on Dovaynia had just killed him instead of engaging in conversation (she didn’t consider a shake-down to be a conversation).
Tatia took out her own Authority Token, the Matriarch’s Seal, and rubber her thumb over it absently, enjoying the feeling of her mind being refreshed, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. Or a breeze that helped break up the fog on a sunny morning.
Joram had done well this past year, much better than she thought he would. His grades were exceptional, and his tutor had very little cause to complain about him. Which, quite frankly, surprised Tatia given that Joram was a Reincarnator. They were famously stubborn, often refusing to “learn” what tutors and teachers had to share, or showing them up with their knowledge from their previous life.
Well, if she were reborn and retained her memories, she didn’t know if she’d have the patience to sit through those classes again, especially since she was academically more accomplished than most anyone else on Waeryn.
At the same time, he came from another world entirely, so he likely found everything interesting. Or at least she hoped he did…
Nevertheless, Joram had been a model student and an exceptionally well behaved youth this past year to the point that many people had commented on how mature he was, how brave, how obedient, etc.. It had been particularly difficult hearing the praises being heaped on, as she knew that those people would take Joram’s bearing as the new bar with which they measured other children that would come along, and even those already there.
Very unfair to those children.
As much as it pained her, she really wished that he’d go and do normal toddler stuff that would get him into trouble, as that would actually lessen the strain on her in the long run…
And that was why she’d shared those words at his party, for he truly seemed to be on the “straight and narrow path”. She could tell that he had a strong personal sense of justice and that he would stick to his ideals.
She also saw how loyal he was.
That was probably the deciding factor in allowing him to have an Authority Token in the first place, nevermind ending his year-long punishment. His loyalty to those he was close to would likely extend to the clan as a whole as he grew, especially if the clan treated him well. Hence why she was trying to cultivate a good relationship with Joram.
Well, to be honest, it was more that she was trying to return to what she felt for him from before she found out that he was a Reincarnator. That had been a heavy blow, and she had felt a much heavier blow at the perceived betrayal than she would have thought possible.
She realized that her reaction hadn’t been very logical, that everyone was entitled to their secrets and personal lives. But she had well and truly formed a strong attachment to Joram in those two years, once again enjoying having a child around to cuddle with, one who seemed at complete ease with her as well.
Ah, the matters of the heart.
It still hurt when she noticed that they weren’t as close as they used to be, and she couldn’t determine if it was because of him, or because of her pulling away. Or both. She just knew that she missed that connection that they’d had and wished that they could have it once again.
Tatia shook her head as she placed her teacup down, not having realized that she’d picked it up, never mind that someone had served it to her.
After more deliberation, she rang a bell to summon a servant.
“Please fetch Joram for me,” she said, then picked up her teacup again and took a sip as the servant bowed then hurried off.
Then frowned because it had gone cold. With a sigh, she set the teacup down again, not bothering to reheat it as this particular blend didn’t reheat well, and waited.
… and waited…
… and waited some more.
At this point she was getting increasingly impatient. How hard was it to find a toddler at dinner-time?
* * * * *
Joram walked down the street, hands laced behind his head as he looked from shop to shop as they were preparing to close up for the day.
It hadn’t been hard to leave the clan home as he now had the Authority Token that gave him free access to and from the clan home. The guards had rightly been skeptical at first, but when he pointed out that it was his birthday, and that Tillia was accompanying him, they eventually let them out.
It had taken a bit of flattery and honeyed words, not to mention a decadent bribe, to convince Tillia to take a trip to town, but in the end she caved in.
Ah, the power of chocolate! He mused as he stepped closer to a street vendor specialized in knick-knacks. He’d had a decent supply of the stuff before the Incident and it had all been stored away in stasis this whole time, which had led to the idea of bribery.
It hadn’t been difficult to replicate the molecular structures of the chocolates- he had anything from white chocolate to the darkest, most bitter chocolate due to his attempts to make the perfect Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge- and then mass produce the stuff. Sure, it was easier when you had all the actual ingredients on hand, but he’d not gotten around to remaking a cacao plant yet, so he had made do.
All-in-all, even he was impressed with the quality of the end product. Then releasing it to an innocent who’d never experienced the joys of chocolate, well, enough said.
What had actually surprised him most was that Tillia enjoyed the darker chocolates more than the milkier kinds, nevermind white chocolate. A gal after his own heart!
Anyway, he’d been glad that she was OK with peanut butter, as that was also a foreign thing in this world. If he were to ask Tillia, his Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge was a divine creation sent by the gods. Really, she’d said as much as she rested her wobbly knees after having a square.
The end result was a trip to town!
He’d long prepared for this day by asking various people if he could see their money and “play” with it for a bit. Being who he was, everyone had readily agreed to his requests, and were even more impressed that he’d even given the money back afterwards. It seemed as though some of the clan silk pants hadn’t done that in the past.
But that had allowed him to [Delve] each coin he’d been allowed to play with, then from there it had just been a matter of making sure that he had all of the appropriate elements on hand before he [Fabricate]d his own stock of bronze, silver, and gold coins. He hadn’t had any luck convincing anyone to lend him anything more than a bronze bar, which was equivalent to one thousand bronze coins, but that didn’t bother him too much as it was only a matter of time before he’d get a chance to [Delve] a silver or a gold bar.
Avi had been busy this last year, acquiring mounds of resources, many of which were actually quite rare. What he really enjoyed was the stacks upon stacks of raw elements that he’d been able to [Extract] from the many, many mounds that were brought back. He felt a little bit like a Replicator from his favourite space exploration show.
But now he was looking to see if he could meet that renowned smith that had been hired by the clan. Sure, they stayed and worked in town, but he was pretty sure that the town itself wouldn’t likely be able to afford someone of their skill level. Especially with how remote their mountain was. The prospects of attracting customers here were slim to none.
He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts as he approached his destination, a three-story building that resembled an inn, patioed terraces and all.
He looked up to Tillia and saw that she also looked a bit confused. He couldn’t blame her, because they’d asked for directions to the smith’s workshop, and here they were at what looked like an inn.
Sure, the place looked like it had been recently built or renovated, the paint not having had time to fade in the sun. But just what kind of smith wanted their place of craft to look like an inn?
With another shake of his head, he led the way up to the double doors where an attendant waited, clipboard in hand.
“Name,” he said more than asked in a bored tone of voice.
“Joram Aneath,” Tillia replied with a smile as Joram himself worked hard not to scowl.
After a moment of scanning over the page on the clipboard, the attendant lazily said, “You’re not on the list. Would you like to be added to the waiting list?”
Joram couldn’t help the scowl that spread across his face this time. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his impatient body and developing hormones or what, but this guy just grated his nerves. Especially when he leered out of the corner of his eye at Tillia.
He was just about to wrap him in an [Ectoplasmic Cocoon] and kick him down the mountain when Tillia piped in.
“You can add Joram Aneath to the waiting list and send a messenger to the Clan Home with the details of the appointment, thank you.”
The attendant glanced briefly at Joram, then nodded, writing a note. “I would be happy to do so, and I hope that you’ll be able to visit again soon,” he said, then cleared his throat as he not-so-subtly held out a hand.
It seemed as though Tillia noticed Joram’s twitching eyebrow, because she then turned him around and started walking away as she thanked the corrupt attendant over her shoulder.
Joram caught a scowl from the wretch before he was ushered around a corner, then over to a food stall.
“Now Joram,” Tillia said, her voice sweet and reasonable. “I know that he wasn’t pleasant to deal with, but could you please refrain from doing anything… rash?”
As she was speaking, she pointed to a couple steamed buns and handed over a few bronze pieces, accepting the buns on a small wooden plate as Joram thought about it.
Joram took a few more breaths, clearing his mind before responding.
“I will give you some face and allow you to handle him then,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster. It was hard because of the lingering adrenaline in his system, and the memory of that wretch’s leer.
“Good,” she said, guiding them to a bench beside the stand. “Because things will go much smoother if people are able to talk things out rather than resorting to less civilized methods.”
That got through to him like a lightning bolt to the head, as the vivid memory of that Old Fart attacking him played across his vision.
He took a shuddering breath, exhaled, and repeated that until his nerves were settled. Then he turned to look up at Tillia and smiled.
“Thanks, Big Sis Tillia,” he said, then grabbed a bun and took a big bite.
Tillia reached over and patted him on the head and smiled. They sat there, happily eating their little snack until someone approached them from behind and cleared their throat to get their attention.