*1346.04.24*
Alicia was a bit… frustrated.
After her meeting with Jae-Eun and Aya, she’d sent invitations to the other women listed on the Goddess Ranking. The invitation wasn’t for them to join her party, though. No, that would have been a level of diplomatic ineptitude bordering on criminal.
She’d invited them to meet with her at Starfall, luring them with promises of sweet decadence. All but four of them had shown up for the meeting time she’d made for each of them. She’d wanted to speak with them individually so that they wouldn’t be swayed by others’ opinions.
It hadn’t gotten her very far though. Most of them seemed to think that she was just wanting to brush elbows with the popular crowd, to get a foot in, as it were. There were even a few that thought she was condescending them because Alicia was at the top of the Ranking, lording it over them.
Those last ones were struck off her list of potential recruits pretty fast. Their superficial attitudes, viewpoints, and goals weren’t what she was looking for.
The former group was borderline as well. Because Alicia came from an unknown background they thought that she was trying to climb the social ladder by using her position on the Goddess Ranking. Not an entirely unfair thought for them to have, as she was sure that it had happened not infrequently in the past.
The few that seemed amenable to getting to know her without questioning her motives, were of humbler backgrounds. Daughters of merchants and laypeople. There were a few minor nobles, but they were surprisingly easy to get along with.
She hadn’t pitched her idea to them yet, as she was working to build a base of mutual respect first; possibly even friendship. No, she’d chatted with each of them about Academy life, the latest trends, and such for a time before they headed off with a small box of goodies in hand. Even the ones she wrote off. No need to burn any bridges.
The four that hadn’t shown up for their allotted time had actually come together to see her close to closing time. It felt a bit like an ambush, but she still greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table inside because the patio was currently being closed up.
First to take a seat was Alyraele Erhice, the firstborn of a minor house in Avilia, the only forth-year student among them. Then Sophia Rearden sat next to her, the second child of a successful merchant family a few countries west of the Avilium Kingdom. Gabrielle Hayes, the daughter of a blacksmith, and Daleira Dexamene a sponsor from her village a bit inland, joined the first two at their table within seconds.
Surprisingly, it was Daleira that spoke up first.
“So, what’s on your mind, Miss Seraphina?” She asked as Alicia took the last chair at the table between Daleira and Alyraele.
She wasn’t expecting such a straight shot, so she delayed by waving over Bai Lian and placing a quick order for some sweets. From the cues she saw in Alyraele’s body language, Alicia guessed that she knew that she was stalling.
“Are any of you as… annoyed with the Goddess Ranking as I am?” She asked, deciding to just say it straight, which caught them all by surprise. Or maybe it was the subject?
After a few looks were exchanged between them, it was Sophia who spoke up this time.
“In what sense?” She asked, obviously taking well to her studies if she was able to ask for clarification before answering based on what she thought she understood.
“That it even exists,” she replied bluntly as her brows drew down slightly, marring her friendly expression.
“Go on,” Sophia said, as Gabrielle and Daleira leaned forward slightly.
* * * * *
“How are you feeling?” Joram asked as they opened their eyes.
“There’s… a lot to unpack,” Grammy replied with a small grin.
He couldn’t help but smile at the pun. He was glad that she could joke, though. Then, thinking back, he had trouble remembering if Grammy had actually ever joked with him before.
His thoughts must have made their way to his face, because Grammy couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Even though I had to be the Matriarch for half a century, I am still who I was before taking on the persona. I do have a sense of humour, you know,” she said, shaking her head at him.
“Grammy?”
“Yes, Joram?”
“You’re kinda scary,” he said then dodged the half-hearted swing Grammy sent his way.
“That hurts,” she said, unable to hide her smile now.
Joram burst out laughing, remembering their conversation from what seemed like so long ago, yet only a few years had passed.
“We’ve got some work to do,” Grammy finally said when she stopped laughing.
“Aye, that we do,” he said, nodding. “What’s first on your list?”
“How easy is it to bring me to the Academy?” She asked, now back to her usual business mode.
“We can go there now, if you’d like.”
“Hmm, no. I should get ready first,” she said, looking down at herself and frowning. “Do you have anything more… formal?” She asked, looking back up at him.
“I can throw something together. Would something similar to what you used to wear be good?”
“Yes, that should do,” she said after a moment, then reached up and touched the very short hair on the right side of her head. “Do you have a way to fix this?”
“An avant-garde haircut?” He asked with a shrug.
“A, what?” Grammy deadpanned.
“A new style, modern, innovative. That sort of thing,” he explained as he waved his hand.
“I would be very curious to see what you have in mind,” she said, her interest piqued.
“Ah, well, you’d look a little something like this,” Joram said, manifesting [Astral Construct] and shaped it to be a perfect replica of Tatia down to the finest detail, including colour and texture.
Joram smiled at his work, proud of how far he’d come in his ability to shape ectoplasm.
Grammy stared at her copy with wide eyes as she reached out a hand to touch its face.
“It feels so… real,” she said, then turned to him. “This isn’t an illusion, is it?”
“No, just shaped ectoplasm,” he said, trying to be modest.
Grammy shook her head, then got back on topic.
“So, show me the style you had in mind.”
A few moments later, they both stared at the astral construct’s new do.
“I kind of like it,” Grammy said with a nod. “It reminds me of the ancient warriors of the Kvar’lorn Plains. They were a fierce lot, feared by many,” she said, nodding. “Yes, this will do nicely.”
“All right,” Joram said, then produced a pair of scissors and got to work.
- - - - -
“Yes, I still like it,” Grammy said once he was done, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror.
“All right, then let’s clean up,” he said, then activated his [Cleanse] ring to get rid of all the hair.
He turned back to her and admired his work.
Both sides of her head had been shaved up to her temples, leaving her brushed-back hair to flow down her back. The bare skin extended to the back of her head, where it dipped slightly, leaving the occipital bun covered in hair, but her neck bare.
With her deep purple hair, she might be able to get a role in a post-apocalyptic movie, Joram thought in amusement that quickly soured. She kinda did survive our own personal apocalypse, though…
“Stop being gloomy,” Grammy said, smacking him in the arm, then wincing. “Ow. I really need to get cultivating again,” she said, waving her hand to dull the sting.
That caught his attention.
“Have you decided what path you’d like to take?” He asked, now back to serious.
“We can discuss it more after we visit the Dean of the Academy,” she said, waving it off. “My outfit?” She asked, changing the subject.
Joram frowned, but complied. He shifted a few bolts of cloth and dyes over and got to work with [Modify Matter].
Within seconds the bolts of cloth had spun, unravelling in the air as the dyes flowed to, and merged with, the cloth even as it changed shape, seeming to morph into a beautiful set of black robes with a purple trim that matched her hair.
“That’s completely ridiculous, I hope you know,” she said, trying hard to keep the awe out of her voice.
“I’ve been told,” he said with a small grin.
“Now, for undergarments,” she said, looking at him expectantly.
“Let’s go shopping,” he said with a cough.
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*A very uncomfortable hour later….*
‘I don’t know why you’re so… prudish about shopping with me,’ Grammy sent as they left the women’s clothing store that Bai Lian and Mo Yu had gone to. ‘Didn’t you say that you’d been married with two children?’
‘That’s different,’ he sent, massaging his temples as he tried to get rid of his slight headache. A purely psychosomatic one.
‘How so?’ She asked, seemingly genuinely curious to know why.
He looked over at her, but couldn’t tell if she was yanking his chain or not. So he went with blunt.
‘You’re my great grandmother. On Earth, you’d be a frail old woman with more wrinkles than hair,’ he sent, getting an outraged look in return. ‘Here? You look like you could be my older sister. My hot older sister. This makes it many levels of wrong to drag me along while you shop for lingerie,’ he finished.
Joram didn’t know how she’d react to that, but he’d have been wrong anyway.
Grammy turned to him, a huge smile on her face.
‘Why thank you, Joram! That’s probably the most sincere compliment I’ve received regarding my looks since your great grandfather passed away.’
Damn it! I was played!
‘You’re welcome,’ he sent back, working hard to keep his embarrassment off his face. ‘Now, since you’ve already changed, shall we go?’
Grammy smiled as she took his arm in hers as they walked, getting more than a few looks from those around them. He was surprised to finally notice that he was now taller than her by more than a few centimetres.
‘Hmm, yes. Let’s go visit the old man then,’ she said with a distinct level of “pouting” in there.
Joram just nodded before shifting them to his manor on campus.
They arrived in the living room where the grand piano was still proudly displayed by the front window… and where Bai Lian was idly playing with the keys.
Joram was surprised to see her there, having thought that she’d be working at Starfall. But when Bai Lian saw him, and Grammy, his surprise paled in comparison to hers.
Bai Lian practically flung herself off the bench and prostrated herself on the ground before them.
“I greet great grandmother, the Matriarch!” She practically yelled into the floor.
Joram exchanged confused looks with Grammy. Though Grammy seemed more fascinated than confused.
“Oh, do I have another great granddaughter now?” She asked seriously, but the schadenfreude radiating off her connection in the Network gave her away.
Joram was impressed that Bai Lian’s face could lose even more colour than it already had.
“I wouldn’t presume, Matriarch!” She replied vehemently as she started to shake a bit.
“Oh, stop that Grammy,” Joram said as he leaned over and pickup Bai Lian up as though she were a feather, depositing her on her feet.
“Bah, you’re no fun,” Grammy pouted, pouted!, at him. “No harm in making sure people know what’s what.”
If anything, Bai Lian looked even more terrified than before.
“You recognize Grammy?” He asked her, ignoring Grammy who seemed to be going through an identity crisis at the moment.
Bai Lian turned to him, edging a bit further away from Grammy before answering.
“We… were given likenesses…” she mumbled, training off as Grammy now took a better look at her.
“This is what you did with them?” Grammy asked softly as she continued to stare at Bai Lian.
Instead of answering her directly, he turned to Bai Lian.
“Could you please repeat the Heart Oath you swore to me?”
“I, Qin Bai Lian, swear by the Heavens that I will be loyal and true to you, Joram Aneath, until the day I find my eternal rest,” she said instantly, looking him in the eyes as she spoke.
Joram nodded to her and placed his hand on her head for a moment before turning to regard his slightly stunned Grammy.
She seemed to go over Bai Lian’s words in her head, then again and again before she looked back at Joram.
“But why?” She asked, a bit of pain audible in her voice.
“Because I chose to let go of hate,” he said simply.
Tatia Aneath could only shake her head at that while Bai Lian could only stare at her feet, hands clasped in front of her.
“How?” Grammy asked, her pain and confusion clear.
“’It’s a lot to unpack’, remember?” He said quietly as he took her hands in his. “I’ve had a year to process everything; you’ve had days. Let it come.”
Grammy looked up to him, searching his face for a time before nodding, then smiling.
“You’re still grounded,” she said with faux seriousness, then turned fully serious. “You can trust her, though?”
Joram smiled a sad smile as he remembered how he’d forced Bai Lian to go through the rows and rows of her dead peers.
“Yeah, that’s something that comes with time,” he said. “Time and effort from both parties willing to making things work.”
He perceived Bai Lian as she once again began to shake, tears silently falling to her feet. Without looking away from Grammy, he reached his arm out behind himself and once again placed his hand on Bai Lian’s lowered head and gave it the slightest of squeezes.
“I’m still going to get everyone back, though,” he said to Grammy as she observed his, arguably, intimate gesture.
It took her a minute to respond.
“Then let’s go see the old man,” she said, putting on a smile for him.
- - - - -
The office of the Dean was as impressive as he would have imagined it to be. The walls were lined with bookshelves- stacks, really- that went all the way up to the ceiling that was over seven metres high.
The stacks didn’t only contain books of varying size and shape, but also mementos, souvenirs, we well as random alchemical and magical equipment. There were also tiny figurines depicting anything from a common chicken to various dragons, phoenixes, and other exotic beasts.
Joram idly wondered if he could make some money by selling him some of his work before bringing his mind back to the… odd discussion.
“Ah, my girl! What have you done with your hair?” The old man who’d presided over Joram’s “honour” duel asked from behind his impressive desk.
“Who’s girl?” Grammy demanded with a scowl on her face. “Being my senior doesn’t mean I’m your ‘girl’.”
Joram looked at the Dean with new respect. Not that that was hard, as he’d had very little respect for the man to begin with. But someone able to put Grammy on the back foot like that had to have some skills.
“It’s just an expression of endearment,” he said, brushing it off. “I’m much too old to be flirting these days,” he said dismissively as he turned to regard Joram.
“After I heard about the fate of the Clan,” he said, now entirely serious. “I had wondered if I would ever meet anyone from home ever again.”
Joram nodded at that, and even Grammy grew serious again.
“Then you showed up,” the Dean continued, a slight frown on his face. “I wondered if someone had taken your identity and was trying to infiltrate the Academy. I had seriously questioned the intelligence of the people attempting such a thing, especially with the identity of someone who was supposed to have just turned eight-years-old,” he said, giving Joram a flat look.
“I decided to humour that old fool, when he laid those charges on you, just to see what I’d be dealing with,” he said, giving Joram a Look, but receiving a death glare from Grammy. “Even though the assessors had reported you as being a peak-level Tier 3 Mentalist, I wondered if that were really true,” she said, now turning to Grammy.
“Not only did young Mr Aneath here win his honour duel, but he did it in such a way that completely humiliate the Arabanise family,” he said, then gave a brief description of the “fight” before continuing.
“So, I then knew without a doubt that Mr Aneath wasn’t what he claimed to be,” he said, turning his gaze back to Joram. “A member of the Clan doesn’t just show up with three ‘servants’ from the Sects either.”
Having all of this pointed out to him so concisely was really taking a toll on his self-confidence.
“So,” the Dean said, letting out an aura so heavy that Joram couldn’t move. “Who. Are. You?”
Grammy didn’t seem to be affected by the Dean’s aura like Joram was because she stood up and smacked the Dean right across the face, astonishing the man so much that Joram felt the aura vanish like a bursting bubble. He turned slowly and took in Grammy’s furious face.
“And you,” he said quietly. “Have you been taken by those who destroyed our Clan and turned into their agent?”
Grammy was taken aback by his words and cold tone, but soon rallied.
“If you question my honour again, I don’t care if I have to drag this crippled body across the floor to gnaw on your bony old ankles until my teeth fall out, but I will do everything in my power to shut you up,” she said in her Matriarch voice.
“Joram here,” she said, motioning towards him with her right hand. “Is the only reason why there are any Clan members left. He has done more for the Clan in its time of crisis than anyone else combined. So, tell me. Where. Were. You. When the wolves burst through the door and began their slaughter?
“What have you been doing to help the clan? Playing stupid games with my great grandson’s life? Huh?!”
Joram was seriously impressed by Grammy’s vim and vigour. Even standing there as a crippled cultivator, she was able to lambaste someone who was likely in the 7th Tier without any apparent fear, her glare nearly sufficient to peel paint.
The Dean leaned back, his lips forming the word “boney” and he stared at Grammy for a minute.
“Given that the Sects sent out an extermination squad, I think that my caution has been more than reasonable,” he said, reasonably. “That said, I would still need to get proof that this young man is indeed Joram Aneath who, I will mention again, is supposed to be eight years old.”
“What? You want a blood test or something?” Joram asked, trying very hard to keep his sarcastic tendencies to a minimum.
“For a start,” the Dean replied with a disapproving look at Joram. “I’ll also need you to answer some questions for me. For instance, how is it that you appear to be twice the age you’re supposed to be?”
It was Joram’s turn to give the man a Look while Grammy continued to stare daggers at the old man.
“It’s a side effect of my cultivation technique and my body refining technique,” he said at last.
“I don’t know of any combination of those two methods that could produce such side effects at such a low Tier,” he said, then looked at Joram again, squinting. “Are you wearing an aura shroud?”
‘Grammy? Do we really need this guy?’ Joram sent, allowing his extreme annoyance with the Dean to accompany this words.
‘*Sigh* Yes, Joram, we do. As much pleasure as it would give me to see the old bag of bone humbled, it would set us back considerably.’
“No, I’m not.”
“They why can’t I feel any cultivation from you?”
“Another side effect of my cultivation technique,” he said dryly.
“And what, pray tell, it that,” the Dean asked through clenched teeth.
Instead of answering right away, Joram turned to Grammy.
“Does he have the clearance to know that?”
Grammy looked gratified that he’d asked her that, a smile coming to her face. Which made what she said next sound all the funnier.
“Unfortunately, yes. He’s cleared to access up to the seventh section.”
The Dean didn’t seem to be impressed the their exchange, but remained patient anyway.
“My cultivation technique is called ‘Encompass the Universe’.”
The Dean frowned at him.
“I’ve never heard of it,” he said, his skepticism of Joram obvious. “What about your body refining technique?”
“That’s called the ‘Adamantium Body Technique’.
“Putting aside that I’ve never heard of either cultivation method,” the Dean said as turned back to Grammy. “Under what grounds was a child given access to the Archives, let alone permission to cultivate the techniques there?”
From the serious look that came upon Grammy’s face when the Dean asked her that, Joram was sure that the Dean was now trying to find fault with her.
‘How much are you comfortable with me sharing?’ Grammy suddenly asked.
It only took Joram a second to decide.
‘If we need him as much as you say, I don’t mind you sharing about Altaea. But if he proves a liability, then I’ll take care of him,’ Joram sent back, causing Grammy’s eyelids to flicker slightly.
“To put it simply,” she said, taking a breath. “Joram is the reincarnation of the Founder’s first disciple who was tragically murdered shortly after parting with her,” she said, then took another breath. “Upon investigation of the Library, he found the entrance to the Heavenly Archive. A short time later, he was able to access it and delve its secrets because it was made to be his inheritance when he eventually reincarnated into the Clan.”
Joram didn’t know how much Grammy was guessing at and how much she actually knew, but he was nevertheless impressed by how… concise her explanation was.
On the other hand, the Dean looked like he’d just been made privy to the largest load of bullshit he’d ever heard in his many, many, decades in a learning institution.
“Pray,” he said, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Tell me. In what scenario would you think that what you’ve just said is anything but complete and utter bullshit?”
Grammy blinked at that, possibly because he’d cussed. For his part, Joram was just impressed that the man hadn’t thrown them out the window.
“Jerry,” Grammy said as she sat down, seemingly exhausted. “We both know that you can just take Joram’s hand and check the actual age of his body to verify his actual age.”
Damn, that’s actually a thing, he thought, impressed.
“That said, think of any legend of the Founder that doesn’t require a ridiculously high cultivation, and ask Joram if he can do it,” she said, giving him a flat stare.
Wait, what about the blood test and questions?
The Dean cleared his throat as he looked over to one of the stacks and raised his hand. A book then came flying off its shelf, flew past Joram’s head, and into “Jerry’s” outstretched hand.
He flipped through it quickly before stopping at a page, his finger quickly going back and forth as he read. After a few pages were turned, he finally stopped and looked up at Joram, a grim look in his eyes. Or was it sadistic? Challenging?
Damn, this guy’s tough to read.
“It’s said that the Founder, also known by other names by those not of the Clan, had a myriad of never-before-seen talents, but was best known as an unparalleled crafter; said to have a talent greater than the gods,” he said, obviously building up the suspense.
Wait, gods were a thing here?
“She had such profound understanding of the Elemental Laws that she could perform miracles by just thinking about them, her titanic mana reserves not even needed to accomplish those feats. One of the most famous tales tells of how she was even able to take a Law and Crystalize it into physical form so that she could more easily use it in her Crafting.”
Wait, is this going where I think it’s going?
“So, to prove that you’re indeed the disciple of the Founder,” he said, Grammy now understanding what he was going for, a look of such incredulity on her face that he half expected Jerry to pop out of existence right there. “Do what she did. Create for me, what she called, a ‘Dust Crystal’.”