There was silence for a moment after the Dean’s demand was heard. Joram imagined that one could hear a pin drop in that moment. But, alas, the moment didn’t last as it was blasted apart by Grammy.
“What in the nine-hells are you thinking?! Not even those in the 8th Tier are able to replicate such a feat! How can you expect a child who’s cultivation hasn’t even reached the 7th Tier to even sense a Peak Law like the Law of Creation? How many other, more reasonable, things she’s known for could you have asked for!”
The Dean waited until Grammy took a breath before interrupting her tirade.
“You and I both know that if someone has an innate affinity for a Law, their use of that Law isn’t limited to their cultivation,” he said, sounding very much like an old professor used to lecturing students.
Grammy ground her teeth as she glared at Jerry.
“Grammy?”
“… yes, Joram…?” She reluctantly replied.
“Here,” he said, handing her a crystal.
Grammy stared at him, obviously wondering if he’d gone daft, but then looked down at what he’d given her with a frown on her face. What she saw was an iridescent crystal which seemed to have a glow about it. She looked back to Joram, stunned.
Jerry leaned forward to see what she had, so Grammy passed it to him without turning away from Joram.
“What’s this now?” Jerry asked as he held the crystal up to inspect it, then nearly choked as he both tried to talk and swallow hard at the same time.
“It’s called a Dust Crystal, in case you were wondering,” Joram said with a sardonic grin on his face that he couldn’t quite stop from forming.
Joram waited as Jerry composed himself before speaking, taking the time to peruse the stacks he saw through his sphere or perception.
“Well,” Jerry said, clearing his throat. “This certainly does match the description of the legendary Dust Crystal,” he said as he placed it on the desk in front of him. “But can you prove that it is what you say it is?”
Grammy just about choked at how thick his face was.
“That’s your problem,” Joram said, finally having enough of the guy.
Jerry, the Dean, looked like he was about to make it his problem when Joram interrupted him, causing his face to turn red in outrage.
“You want to know what else Altaea could do that you guys can’t?” He asked leaning forward to stare Jerry in the eyes. “How about this?” He said as he manifested [Quintessence] and tossed the glob of psionically condensed Time at him, which he reflexively caught, then frowned at.
“What about this?” Joram asked as Kinkade manifested [Dimension Hop] for him, making Joram appear at the top of the rolling ladder used to retrieve books from the upper shelves, causing the Dean’s eyes to nearly bug out.
“Or what about that?” He asked as M3 finished manifesting [Astral Construct], shaping it into a perfect replica of the Heavenly Lightning Jade Dragon he’d seen in the skies over a thousand years ago now… though smaller than life size due to the space available in the office.
Even then, the Eastern-style dragon stood over three metres tall and was almost three times that in length. Its body crackled with electricity as it glared down at the Dean, who’d almost attacked it when it appeared. Joram was tempted to have it spit out an [Energy Bolt], but thought better of it.
Kinkade brought him back to his seat with another [Dimension Hop] while Joram kept glaring at the Dean.
‘What in Creation was all that?’ Grammy sent, doing a remarkable job at keeping her face still.
‘Me getting tired of this farce,’ he sent back. ‘Sorry. The Dean gives off hardcore politician vibes, and I’m reacting to that.’
‘You wouldn’t believe how satisfying it was to slap him,’ she sent back smugly.
The Dean seemed… frozen as Joram continued to glare at him. His gaze seemed to be stuck on the [Astral Construct], so Joram dismissed it.
The Dean’s eyes widened in alarm as he watched the [Astral Construct] disintegrate before his eyes, vanishing completely in seconds.
Jerry’s head slowly turned towards Joram, his eyes showing a level of alarmed outrage that was more than a little bit concerning to see. Especially when it was a 7th Tier Mage staring at you like that. So, instead of poking the already angry bear with a pointy stick, Joram waited.
In fact, he waited so long that he was about to get up and leave when Jerry finally spoke up.
“I see that I was wrong to doubt you,” he said, astonishing both Joram and Grammy with his words.
Not only that, but Jerry then proceeded to stand up and perform at ninety-degree bow from the waist.
“Master,” he said, shocking them further. “Please take me as your disciple.”
Joram turned to Grammy at the same time she turned to him.
‘Seriously?’ He asked Grammy, the whole situation feeling surreal to him.
‘What the fu-‘
- - - - -
That had been an… uncomfortable situation.
He still wasn’t sure if allowing the Dean to become his “disciple” would prove to be a boon or a major pain in the ass given the man’s disposition.
For as… politically savvy as the was, Jerry was also surprisingly earnest and sincere in things that didn’t involve politicking. Like showing respect for his “master” by holding the door open for him when they were leaving his office. Or following behind Joram as they walked….
“Dean, please treat me like any other student while in public,” Joram whispered to the over-eager man as they entered the lift attached to his secretary’s office. The very same secretary that was now giving the three of them very odd looks.
Following Joram’s subtle nod, the Dean looked over to where his secretary was sitting at her desk, staring. Once she spotted him looking over at her, her expression shifted into a professional smile as she gave a wave to them, then quickly turned back to her desk and started playing with some papers until the doors of the lift hid her from sight.
“Good point, master,” Jerry said, nodding.
“And don’t call me that anywhere that there might be even the vaguest chance that someone could overhear you,” Joram said, keeping his annoyance out of his voice while Grammy still seemed whiplashed at the Dean’s sudden change in attitude.
The Dean nodded to that, albeit reluctantly.
When the lift’s doors opened, Joram and Grammy followed him out, passing the various offices, then cubicles in the faculty building before making their way across the street to the Heavenly Trove. He briefly wondered whoever had named the bank had wanted to start a theme by referencing the Heavenly Archive, but discarded the thought because it really didn’t matter.
Joram was pleased to see a greeter at the door who welcomed them and then quickly waved them along when the Dean mentioned that he wanted to speak with the president.
He was a bit surprised to find out that the president of the bank wasn’t busy or anything and was able to immediately see them.
The next bit was relatively boring stuff. The Dean greeted the President, who returned the greetings, followed by Grammy and the President doing the same. Once those formalities were taken care of, they all sat down and started chatting like old friends. Which, really, was something that he should have expected when Grammy had mentioned the Clan’s connection to the Academy. Which owned the Heavenly Trove.
After much sympathy was given by way of words of regret and remorse, they finally got down to what Grammy had wanted to do here.
Given that everything in the Clan Home had either been looted or burnt to the ground, Grammy had the President re-issue her a veritable mountain of documents. She also made sure that Joram was properly registered as her direct descendent, giving him access to the Clan’s funds. Which were… substantial.
When she was about to appoint him her heir, he stopped her.
“Ah, Grammy, it’s not nice to joke around like that!” He’d said, causing the President’s head to whip around to him so fast that his neck popped.
‘I am not going to be the first Patriarch of the Clan. You can either make mum the Matriarch, or wait for Zaleria to grow up and hand the position over to her,’ he’d sent quickly, and very firmly.
He’d received grudging acceptance from her over the Network before she laughed, saying that she’d nearly been able to pull one over on the President. Who in turn still looked confused, but also relieved that it had been a “joke”.
At the end of their visit, the President handed Joram a bank card that could be used at any bank affiliated with the Heavenly Trove… which meant it would work at any mid-sized and larger bank on the continent. Then was also told that it also worked at any major bank in Zhizun Zhanshi as well due to the fact that the students from there also needed a ways to pay tuition without needing to carry a small fortune on their person when they arrived at the Academy.
Joram quickly inspected the card, noting the rich purple sapphire border on the crystal card that now had an interior etching of his likeness in it along with his name and a drop of the blood he’d provided the bank so that they’d be able to confirm his identity in the future should he misplace his card.
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It occurred to him then that having the name of the main line of the clan that had been wiped out by an extermination squad from the sects on his bank card, when he planned to go over there to get his family back… wasn’t the best thing to have. Especially since bank cards were acceptable forms of identification when a person travelled.
“Can I have a second card made?” He asked the President before they left his office, then went on to explain his reasoning.
“Of course, of course. I should have thought of that. My apologies,” he said with a slight bow before heading back to his desk and retrieving an adamantium bordered card.
He stepped over to the card… engraver? Infuser? The card finishing device, and quickly punched in Joram’s details before the device took over and finished the process.
New card in hand, Joram smiled at the name on it. He’d been tempted to take on Altaea’s family names, but he’d suspected that they’d be known to those in higher circles. Circles he might have to have contact with… or might piss off.
So, he’d gone for a name that wouldn’t be noticed as being important, but one that held more than a bit of sentimental value to him.
He’d once played a Psion Shaper in a campaign many years before he’d left Earth. Many things had happened to the character, but at one point he’d pulled a “Count of Monté Christo”, taking on another name and identity so that he could… get things done after an “accident” he’d had.
Now, the name the character had taken on felt a bit dark for Joram. Damien Sullivan. He’d spent a few hours looking online for names that meant, or had a partial meaning of, Dark. Effectively taking on the appellation of Dark Dark. It was as silly thing, one that amused him greatly at the time, but one that he now found slightly cringy.
So, he’d gone with the character’s original name.
“Dana Willows,” Gramma musingly drawled. “Not as distinguished as Aneath, but it does flow off the tongue nicely.”
When Jerry hurried to agree with Grammy, he wasn’t surprised. But when the President also nodded along Joram gave him a questioning look.
“It’s true,” is all he said as he shrugged marginally.
“Cal,” Grammy said, bringing everyone’s attention to her. “Can you arrange for the manor to be cleaned, stocked, and staffed for me?”
“Ah, I made sure to have the manor kept up,” the Dean piped in. “The staff on site is only a maintenance staff, so I’ll arrange for more to fill out their ranks.”
Grammy blinked at him before nodding in thanks.
“Since it is almost lunch time,” Cal, the President, said as they left his office. “How about we head out for a bite to eat. I’ve been hearing about a delightful new café that’s said to serve the most delightfully delectable delicacies,” he said as he led them out of the bank.
* * * * *
Alicia had been relieved with the outcome of her meeting with the four young women. They’d of course been cautious of her “radical” ideas, but had stayed for her whole spiel anyway. By the end, she’d been pleased to note that each of them had warmed to her to one degree or anther.
Now, a couple of hours after their visit, Starfall was once again incredibly busy. Probably because word was spreading that the “Goddesses” now frequented the place. Well, business was business and she’d take any advertising that fell into her lap and go with it.
‘Hey, got a table open?’
She blinked at the request more than the sudden message.
‘We don’t really do reservations, you know ;P,’ she sassily sent back.
‘Well, we’ll wait in line then,’ he sent with a mental shrug, not giving any indication of noticing her failed emoticon.
‘We might not have any tables open in the café, but since the new space is just about done, I’ll get you a table there.’
There was a pause before Joram agreed with another mental shrug.
Is he mentally tapped out again? She wondered as she made her way to the front of the café to meet up with him.
When she spotted him in line, with a conspicuous bubble of space around him, she was a bit taken aback by his company.
Tatia was easy enough to recognize, even with her disconnected undercut style that still left the hair on top of her head long enough to pull back into an impressive ponytail. But instead, her hair was combed back, with thin braids on either side that met in the back to pin down the rest of her hair as it fell loosely down her back.
Alicia applauded the look, appreciating how flattering it was on the woman, but couldn’t understand why she’d chosen the very modern style.
At any rate, as surprising as it was to see Tatia there with Joram, his other two companions surprised her more. She didn’t know why the Dean was accompanying them, but he was getting no few looks from the students in line, and even from the non-students.
She didn’t recognize the other man, though. He looked to be middle-aged, with a smart haircut and what looked like a 19th century, charcoal grey business suit. Overall, he cut quite the image as he casually chatted with Tatia and the Dean while Joram stood there like a kid stuck with the adults.
As she approached, Alicia overheard a few conversations which illuminated her on the identity of the second man. It seemed that he was the president of the Heavenly Trove, which further increased interest in those present.
“Hello,” she greeted them with a bright smile, getting her an odd look from Tatia. “My name is Alicia, the owner of Starfall Café. Unfortunately, as you can see, we’re a bit busy at the moment,” she said apologetically.
“We don’t mind waiting,” the President said graciously, earning him many points with the people ahead of him in line.
“That being said,” she said, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. “Our sister space is almost ready for opening, and I was wondering if you’d like a sneak peak of it?”
That got more than a few reactions from the people listening-in on the conversation. From excited chatting to hurried whispers, the news quickly spread through the customers and those in line. Both Joram and Tatia just nodded, not really caring. But both the Dean and the President looked elated with the offer.
“Oh, but we wouldn’t want to impose,” the Dean said, going through the polite motions one did in these sorts of situations.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be an imposition at all,” she replied, waving the thought away. “Please, follow me.”
She then led the way to the front doors of the space she’d recently acquired and unlocked the doors before turning and placing two folding screens behind Joram’s group, blocking the view for all the rubbernecks. Both the Dean and the President’s lips twitched into a brief smile as they nodded slightly, understanding why she’d done what she’d done.
With that taken care of, she opened the doors and bowed them in before sliding in and closing the doors behind her as her guests stopped to take in the space.
She’d been going for a cross between Hard Rock Café and a quiet pub that had a stage at the back for a band to play at. It was easily twice as wide at Starfall, giving plenty of room for a long wooden bar with tall stools at it that ran most of the length of the room. Behind the long bar were equally long shelves that were slowly being filled with local varieties of alcohol and even some more exotic ones. Like a small selection of her own creations.
Under those shelves were closed cabinets that either held more stock or would hold the various finger food that would be served. Under the bar top was more space, mostly taken up by various kegs and cups of varying size and shape, from shot glasses to fancy wine goblets.
The two walls and the back wall were made of “old”, tan coloured bricks, something she’d always enjoyed seeing in comfortable-looking bars in TV shows or movies. She didn’t have any guitars to put in the glass display cases on the walls for now, but she was sure that Joram would help her with that at some point.
The warm golden lighting was dimmer than at Starfall, though. She’d done that on purpose as she’d wanted to give the place a cozy feel, one where people would go to relax and take a load off instead of a place where people went to get drunk and start fights.
Opposite the bar, booths lined the wall, only interrupted by the locked double doors that led to Starfall. Between the two were more small square tables, but without chairs. The tables were “standing” tables, designed for people who just wanted a quick drink or snack, or both. Those tables ended about halfway to the back, leaving an open space.
Specifically, a space where Alicia hoped people would gather to either listen to the music or dance.
Lastly, there was the door to the back room that stood on the same side as the bar so that anyone going back and forth from the bar to the back room wouldn’t have to dodge through a crowd.
“Is that…?” Tatia asked, but stopped before she said something she shouldn’t.
Alicia looked over to where Tatia’s eyes were glued and smiled. She was staring at Avi’s creations on display.
“Would you like to take a booth,” she asked, bringing their attention to said booths.
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Joram said as he walked over, pulling Tatia by her hand as she continued to stare.
The Dean and the President followed, sitting across from Tatia and Joram, who took the outside seat because the was a “lefty”.
“I don’t have any of the dishes on the menu ready to go yet, but I can get anything from Starfall, as well as any drinks you’d like here,” Alicia explained, the two men nodding along.
“Do you have anything suitable for a main dish before we delve into dessert?” The President politely asked after quickly looking around for a menu.
“We do have some sandwiches that might interest you,” she replied, then proceeded to share what she had for the day before taking their orders, along with what drinks they’d like.
Predictably, Joram got some juice, while the two other men surprised her by asking for some beer. Tatia, of course, asked to try some of the “new” wine. Alicia smiled and set about gathering their orders, giving Tatia a… less potent vintage she thought wouldn’t be too hard on her system.
Overall, it turned out to be a pretty good day, she thought as she made her way to the bar to have a seat while she waited for Joram to finish up.
* * * * *
Ah, what a frightful day, Bai Lian thought as she lay on the living room couch still recovering from her encounter with Matriarch Aneath.
The woman’s cultivation may have been abolished and crippled, but she still had a terrifyingly powerful presence.
She reached her hand up and touched her head again, remembering how nice it had felt when the young master had placed his hand on it.
She’d been startled by the touch at first, especially when his hand engulfed her head. But she’d quickly relaxed, then took comfort in the touch; her appreciation for him growing. That he’d stood his ground for her, spoken up for her, had resulted in gratitude welling up in her heart.
As well as the shame for what she’d participated in. That feeling had been compounded exponentially under Matriarch Aneath’s gaze, causing her to wilt and try to hide behind Joram.
Bai Lian still wasn’t sure if she could ever repay the grace the young master had shown her, but through his actions that morning, her resolve had now become adamantine in its firmness. The words of her Oath ran through her head over and over again as she lay there.
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.
Then the words that Mo Yu had spoken when she gave her Oath floated to the fore of her mind.
I, Li Mo Yu, swear by the Heavens that I will be loyal, true, and faithful to you, Joram Aneath, forevermore.
That she would go so far had shocked Bai Lian at the time, making her wonder if there was more to their interactions than she’d thought. But the more the words repeated themselves in her mind, the more appropriate they felt to her.
She sat up and looked over at the “piano” the young master had made for her. Even though she’d struggled to learn music, he’d still tried to help her by bringing her another instrument to try out. She still felt that her decision to focus on arrays had been the correct one, but she still felt a bit bad for having turned down the young master’s offer.
How can he be so kind? She asked herself for perhaps the thousandth time, her hand unconsciously going to her head again as she stared at the piano.
-----
She was still staring at the piano when Mo Yu returned from working at Starfall and spotted her sitting there.
Curious, Mo Yu made her way over to her junior sister and sat beside her, causing her to give a great start of surprise as she spun to face Mo Yu.
“Are you all right?” She asked, placing her hand lightly on Bai Lian’s lap.
“I’m just… thinking,” Bai Lian replied, her eyes drifting back towards the piano.
“Did something happen?” She asked, concerned.
“Ah, the young master came by with the Matriarch this morning,” Bai Lian replied absently, her hand going up to her head.
Mo Yu’s eyes widened at the unconscious gesture, suddenly alarmed and more than a bit angry.
“Did she hurt you?” She demanded as her Qi began to circulate in response to her emotions.
Bai Lian’s eyes widened in surprise, then quickly recounted her encounter with the young master and the Matriarch. As she told the story, Mo Yu watched her junior sister carefully, taking note of her body language, tone, and especially the words she chose to use.
Mo Yu was once again impressed with the young master’s capacity to forgive. But not just that, but also his willingness to try.
Then, after listening Bai Lian’s reflections after the encounter, of how she’d been seriously thinking of not just her Oath, but Mo Yu’s, she started to put things together.
“Xiao Bai?”
Bai Lian’s eyes opened wide at being addressed so intimately by Mo Yu, her attention instantly fixed on her.
“Xaio Bai,” she continued, now taking one of Bai Lian’s hands in hers. “If you feel that you want to change your Oath, just ask the young master. I am sure that he’ll understand your feelings,” she said warmly.
Bai Lian blushed hearing her words, then her blush covered her from chin to hairline as her words sank in.
“I-i-i-t’s not like that,” she stammered out, now looking down at her lap.
“Isn’t it?” She asked softly.
She watched as Bai Lian’s face continued to heat up until she fainted. Mo Yu gave a slight tug to her hand, pulling Bai Lian into an embrace so that she wouldn’t fall to the floor.
“It might just be that we’re affected by injured-soldier syndrome,” she said softly, almost whispering. “But I’m willing to so see where it goes for us.”