Sulia’s jaw dropped. Tatia’s jaw didn’t quite drop, but her mouth certainly opened. Ivaryn laughed.

Joram just lay there, a look of such angelic innocence on his face that people started to chuckle and titter nervously as they looked at the incredulous healer who had finally managed to get a handkerchief to his nose to stope the flow of blood.

The Matriarch cleared her throat.

“I’ll get a drop later, as I dare say that this one had been… spoiled,” she said as diplomatically as she could. It was very hard to keep the amusement out of her voice.

“Yes, Matriarch,” Healer Reursa said. “I’ll be on my way then.” With that said, he turned on his heel and left the great hall with as much dignity as he could muster.

Tatia looked down at Joram Aneath and couldn’t help but allow the corner of her mouth to curl up slightly. She didn’t know if it had been an incredibly luck shot, or if there was something more to it, but she did know that she’d investigate it most thoroughly. Between this and Healer Reursa’s report of detecting a whisp of mental strength from Joram, well, it was a bit too much of a coincidence.

Sulia stepped over, picked Joram up, then smiled to everyone.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to share this joyous time with us,” she said as Joram hid his face in her bosom. “I think, however, that little Joram is getting tired and should retire. I would love to entertain anyone who wants to come over in the next few days while you’re still here,” she said, giving a slight bow, then a quick glance to Ivaryn.

“Yes, thank you all for coming. Please, enjoy the refreshments.”

-

“So, Joram, what do you have to say for yourself?” Sulia asked him once they’re returned to their rooms and sat down.

Joram looked up at her, a wide-eyed expression on his little face.

“I can feel the guilt coming off you in waves little one,” she said, giving him a stern look.

Is there really something to this, she thought as she kept an eye on him, looking for any possible clue.

Joram’s face turned from curious to concentrating. A moment later, her third-tier nose caught a whiff of something foul.

Joram giggled at her, his green eyes sparkling.

She hmm’d to herself for a moment before waving her hand, changing supplied floating over to them.

Well, we have time, don’t we? She thought as she got to work.

* * *

Joram sighed in relief as the appraising look left his mother and she got to work changing his messy bum. He’d nearly started sweating at the scrutiny. Did she believe him? What did everyone else think? The healer was no doubt planning his revenge… or rather, probably planning on a more thorough examination of him…

He was tempted to “turn on” the stat-enhancing items he’d assimilated before, but didn’t want to rely on those to get by, nor to deal with the healer. He was almost sure that he’d be able to detect the stat-enhancers anyway.

He sighed as his bum was once again wrapped up and he got a more relaxing outfit to wear.

Time for family bonding, aka: cuddles!

* * *

- Week 24 –

It was time.

Joram looked around the nursery, taking note of his mother and aunt Aloralla chatting to one side, joined by Selussa who’d added to the clan just a few weeks ago.

He supposed that her boy would wind up being a second cousin, as his mother and Selussa were first cousins. And since the boy was family, and that he’d managed to get the hang of forcibly adding people to his network, he’d also added Xiao… kid. His Chinese was almost non-existent.

*Cough*

He looked around again, saw that his embarrassed cough had caught his mother’s attention, and went with it.

He quickly pulled himself up to his feet, which didn’t elicit much more than an encouraging smile from his mother, but then let go with one hand as he looked at her.

That got a reaction.

She immediately cut off speaking with Aloralla & Selussa and shone a beaming smile at him as she stretched her arms out towards him, encouraging him to come over.

He smiled, nothing better than that sight, and let out a giggle as he let go with his other hand.

At this point, Aloralla and Selussa both turned his way and began their own cheering, though quietly so as not to startle him.

Bless their hearts.

He took a step, making sure to make it look… unpracticed. He planted his foot, then did that full-body rotation that babies did when bringing their other leg around for another step.

He repeated this again, smiling wider and wider as the cheering got more and more enthusiastic, his mother’s smile turning celestial in its radiance.

Joram had started a good five or so metres away from his mother and decided that going about halfway would be enough for his “first steps”. He promptly did an exaggerated wobble as he planted his foot, then took a hard sit on the ground, not having to try making his eyes go wide at the impact.

At least gravity liked him better being this small…

That said, before he could even register the fall properly, his mother had dashed over and scooped him up into an amazing hug, squishing his face into her left collar bone; so, he reciprocated and tried to hug her around the neck, but didn’t quite get all the way around as his arms were still rather short.

“Did you see that?” Sulia asked rhetorically, as her friends were still showering him with encouragement and praise.

At this point, Xiao’Er (now Xiora, as she’d had her own naming ceremony shortly after his) was staring at all the fun and decided that she also needed to be part of the action. She did her best, but couldn’t quite pull herself up, so she decided to crawl over to Aloralla for cuddles. Xiao Kid just began fussing, not quite knowing what was going on and unsure what to think of it.

Soon enough, all three were cuddling with their respective mommies and having a mid-morning meal.

Ah, happy days!

* * *

Avi could have chewed rocks into sand… if she’d had a mouth.

She’d been alternating between camping in the “portal” room (as she now called it) and copying everything of use in the Library.

Why was she so frustrated?

Well, almost no one went into the portal room. There had been one person four weeks after Sulia, and none since. She was certain that she’d need another two or three attempts at analyzing the spatial fluctuations before she could “crack” the vault, as it were.

Not that she wasn’t happy having gone through so much interesting material, but she was also very goal focussed. She was sure that the really good stuff was in that spatial vault/demiplane.

She was glad, however, that Joram seemed to be absorbing (metaphorically this time) the information that she was able to bring him, ranging from alchemy to smithing to magical theory. It had been quite the revelation to both of them how “true” alchemy worked here.

What Joram had learned form Altaea was considered pseudo-alchemy here, what any lay-person could manage without mental strength to support their endeavours. Come to that, so was his level of smithing. Sure, he’d gotten ridiculously good at it, and when he eventually combined what he knew with what he was learning he’d likely surpass others in no time.

It was just that they were both a bit impatient to get at it. There was only so much that Joram could do while possessing her body to work on thing in his personal realm. Yes, it was practice, and likely very effective at increasing his level of control, but it was exceedingly difficult without his physical body there to do the work.

Though, alchemy was much easier to practice than smithing. He could just control the ingredients telekinetically, sending new ingredients into the “pill furnace” they’d needed to first craft. It wasn’t the highest quality, but good enough for a beginner.

Either way, she was proud of his progress. The various manuals they’d read stated that he should be close to a tier one alchemist with his current progress.

They were both glad that mental strength was the same as psionics, as this allowed him to keep going with alchemy as there really wasn’t much in that field that relied upon magical might, only one’s own ability to concentrate and focus on the task at hand.

Yes, there was the side of it that needed a certain amount of psionic… oompf. It wasn’t enough to have a vast well of mental strength. You also needed the force of will to guide, direct, and force things to happen.

For example. One needed to refine Herb A to extract the medicinal qualities that you wanted to use. You needed to control the heat of the fire, then control the refined product so that it wouldn’t interact with anything else in the furnace before you needed it to. Then repeat x number of times more before combining everything in its own due time.

Well, alchemy was complicated.

Joram, however, just “cheated”.

The many herbs, plants, and fruits that he’d gathered in the mountains before he got… reincarnated had provided an ample wealth of practice materials. He’d already [Delve]d each one, cataloguing their various traits, attributes, and such. The only thing he needed to do to “cheat” was to [Delve] the ingredient again, this time paying attention to the specific quality that the alchemy manual described that was needed in the refining process.

Well, it hadn’t taken him very long to not only single out what each recipe needed, but to single out other useful components that each ingredient had and then [Extract] them.

From what either of them could tell, the “refining” process was not only what singled out the beneficial component of the ingredient, but also served to purify it. The flames, and by extension the temperature, were there for just that.

Now, Joram had also posited that the heat was also needed to change the nature of the extracted “essence”. But she wasn’t so sure.

If you cooked something, you wanted to get that something into a state that you wanted, something beneficial.

But from the chemical sciences of Joram’s home world, it was all done to single out a desired quality, or element. Cooking: breaking bonds in the food so that it was easier to digest. Chemistry: singling out a compound, then using that compound or substance to create something else.

Ipso-facto, just using [Extract] should work just fine. And, so far, it had.

Another bonus to doing alchemy like this was that: one, they didn’t need to waste so much energy playing with fire. Two: they could [Extract] many different things from the same plant without ruining them. Three: they wouldn’t have to either make a fancy pill furnace or buy one. They could perform alchemy anywhere, at any time.

Another perk was that they could just take each component and stuff it into a jade bottle, then store it into the temporal-stasis section of the storage area, or Joram’s newly built warehouse, either one. By [Extract]ing as much as they could beforehand, they would be able to make anything they might need much faster!

Sigh.

Not that most of what they’d come across would be useful to either of them.

Who needed bunion cream? Anti-wrinkle cream? Laxatives?

… and this was why she was so impatient to get into that vault. Everything in the Library seemed to be information that had been collected from mundane sources or, at best, low-tier sources.

She’d also found references to “puppet” refining that she found interesting but couldn’t find any actual methods/schematics/information on it. Again, she was sure that all the good stuff was in the vault.

Maybe she could get Joram to somehow convince his mother to bring him along when she next visited the vault?

Sigh.

How would he manage that? He couldn’t even talk yet, nevermind explaining how he knew about the vault.

… more camping.

* * *

“Nothing; not one scrape, not one sniffle from the boy,” Healer Reursa complained more than said.

“Well, we’ll just need to bide our time,” Matriarch Tatia said after a moment. “I’m sure that you’ll have an opportunity to examine Joram soon, as I hear he just started walking.” She said with a smile, not able to suppress the surge of pride in her.

She wasn’t quite like the rest of the clan, putting the females of the clan on such a high pedestal that they didn’t notice the males of the clan standing around. Yes, her clan was matriarchal, but she also knew that the men of the clan weren’t useless wastes of space. Too many of her clan viewed the men as glorified breeding materials, vying to get the “best” one so that they could try for a female heir, and thus elevating their status within the clan’s hierarchy.

She also knew that the competition to gain her, the Matriarch’s, favour had ramped up after Joram had been born. If the others could produce a female heir of outstanding ability, then they might stand a chance of their child becoming her successor if Sulia didn’t produce a female heir.

Because it wasn’t enough to be chosen by the current Matriarch, but that candidate also needed to have a daughter to finish her qualifications. To cement her place as the next matriarch in the clan.

“Ah, yes, good point.” Healer Reursa acknowledged, nodding his head.

They’d both been waiting for an opportunity to examine Joram more thoroughly after the… incident. Neither could quite write it off as a fluke, especially after everything else that had happened. The, quite frankly, absurd birth. The trace of mental strength that Healer Reursa had felt. That amaz- outrageous kick. Even the fact that Joram was already walking.

No, it wasn’t unheard of for an infant to be walking at that age but with everything else stacked onto the pile, well, she really wanted to know what was going on.

“So just leave Sulia alone for now and concentrate on research in the library. Maybe you’ll find a precedence for all this.”

Healer Reursa nodded, but his pensive expression didn’t fade.

“I’ll do that,” he said with a bow, then took his leave.

* * *

- Week 29 –

“Gooooo!” Joram cheered, waving his arms about as he cheered Xixi (Xiora) as she took her first steps.

That was, unfortunately, the wrong thing to do as it not only distracted Xixi while walking, resulting in her falling down (and getting scooped up by Aloralla), but it got the attention of his mother and aunts.

“What was that?” Sulia asked Joram as she scooped him up into her arms.

Joram blinked and gave her his best clueless look.

It didn’t work.

“Come on my little man!” Sulia cajoled, now holding him under his armpits at arms’ length, letting his feet dangle. “Say it again!”

“Go!” He obliged, much to his mother’s delight.

Then she frowned slightly, but the smile came back again just as fast.

“Again!”

“Go-go-go-go!” He said, over and over again, waiting for the praise to come.

“I need to show Ivaryn,” Sulia declared as she turned to his aunts. “Congratulations Aloralla, I’m sure she’ll be walking around in no time!”

“Thank you Sulia,” Aloralla replied with a smile as she was encouraging Xiora to try again.

Smiles and nods were exchanged, then they were off so fast that Joram couldn’t help but let out a happy squeal.

Ah, baby-brain. Not jus for mothers.

Before he knew it, they were back in their rooms where his father was reading through another one of the Bloodlines (genealogy) books, looking about ready to fall asleep, but jumped up when they swept in.

“Dear,” Sulia exclaimed. “You need to see Joram speak!” She said, pointing at Joram’s mouth.

Ivaryn made his way over with a smile on his face. “Joram, could you say ‘go’ for me?”

By this point, even with his baby-brain, he could tell something was up.

Was it how he said it? Did he have an accent? Even though they were all speaking English, they-

Oh, crap.

He’d forgotten [Tongue of the Sun and Moon]. Not to mention the glasses of [Comprehend Language] that he’d gotten from Altaea and then assimilated way back when.

He’d spent so many years reading horrible translations of various comics and web novels that his brain had just gone into “auto-parse” mode whenever he read anything that Avi brought back, so he never really noticed the translation issues when reading.

Sure, he could speak with any living creature, but that didn’t mean that he spoke their language. He could understand them, and they could understand him. It didn’t mean that his lips sync’d with what they “heard”.

He gulped a mighty gulp.

“Go…?” He said, trying to form his lips to what he had seen his father’s do when he said the word.

His mother and father exchanged a Look.

Crap on a cracker.

“Joram,” his mother started. “Can you say any other words?” She asked, sweet as could be.

Joram smiled the best smile he could, showing his three teeth and his emerging fourth tooth. Side note: teething wasn’t fun.

‘Avi!’ Joram sent in a panic. ‘I need as many learning-to-read books as you can find! Also, pronunciation guides!’

‘Sure thing,’ Avi sent back. ‘They finally found out that your “talking” didn’t sync up, did they?’ She queried.

‘I’m’a’gonna kick you.’

‘Have fun!’

Was this because of her Library assignment? Or was she getting back at him for something else?

Well, at least he’d finally get to put his Linguistics skill to use. Well, what Altaea had dumped into his brain through Avi, anyway. Hopefully he could pick up their- his- language quickly!

Back to the situation at hand, Joram just kind of shook his head lamely, a very real pout slowly appearing on his face.

Is this the end of my journey… again? He mused, hoping that his [Astral Seed] wouldn’t malfunction again so that he wouldn’t have to go through reincarnation. He could just wander about as an almost eight-month-old baby…

I am so screwed…

“Joram,” his mother said. “Are your eyes OK? Can you hear me all right?” She asked, leaning down to examine him more closely.

He blinked.

What did that have to do with anything?

Ivaryn leaned over to have a better look too, then leaned back again and held up his hand, a few fingers raised.

“How many fingers?” He asked Joram, making it sound like a game.

Joram just blinked at the obviously addlebrained man.

What was going on with these people?

“Love,” his mother started. “I don’t think he knows how to count yet.”

Ivaryn blushed and dropped his hand down again.

“Well, should we call the healer to see if anything is amiss?”

His mother shook her head, but only slightly. “Maybe not for now,” she began. “If what I think is truly the issue, then we’ll just have to work a bit harder with little Joram.”

Ivaryn nodded sagely.

“We can always have his eyes tested in a couple of years. It is well known that little ones’ eyes don’t work as well until they’re a bit older. It could just fix itself as he grows.” His mother explained as she peered into his eyes.

“Say, do you think there’s a bit of blue sneaking into his eyes?” She asked, squinting a bit.

His dad also leaned in to get a better look, then nodded.

“I was hoping he’d get some good old blue in his eyes,” he said with a big grin.

“And what’s wrong with having emerald-green eyes?” His mother asked, as glint sparkling in her eyes.

Then Joram got it.

They thought his vision was terrible, and maybe his hearing too. Babies learned to form their words watching people speak, so if he couldn’t see their mouths properly, then maybe his speech would also be affected. Then if his hearing was also compromised, that would also affect his speech…

Either they were deluded, or they were now trying to cover their tracks so as to throw off his suspicions that his cover might have been blown.

Ha. Cover.

Reincarnation was just plain inconvenient when one retained their memories. Or was it OP?

Bah, it was both. Who had the patience to go through all this growth and learning to control their body again? Like, who, in their right minds would want to go through potty-training again? Diapers!! Ewwww!!!

It had been the greatest trial of his new life to not use [Cleanse] every time he soiled himself when he was still learning bladder and bowel control. Now? It was very hard not to just walk over to the water closet to do his business. Not hard to just take a stool out from his storage space, climb up, and not deal with diapers ever again!

And now, now his beautiful plan of starting talking in sentences by the age of one was going to be put on hold while he scrambled to learn the language! Then he’d have to wait longer before requesting going to the library all by himself.

That was the worst part of all this: the delay of his future library time.

Gone were the thoughts of him being discovered as a reincarnater… uh, reincarnating being? Bah!

He needed comfort food!

So when his mother leaned forward just a bit more, he leaned in, grabbed her robes, and pulled himself towards his mobile-meal.

His father laughed at him, mimicking the fish-face he was making as he tried to convey that he needed boob, and he needed it now!

Soon enough, he was being cradled and fed, the happy/comfort endorphins flooding his system.

For the first time in a very long time, Joram took a nap.

* * *

Sulia waited for a few more minutes, gauging the suction on her breast, then determined that Joram was indeed asleep, then turned to her husband who was already looking at her.

“Reincarnation.” They both said at the same time, then nodded at the same time.

Then they both burst into giggles/laughs, trying to stifle them so as not to wake their son.

After a few minutes they managed to calm, wiping tears from their eyes.

“That look,” Sulia said, nearly bursting into laughter again. “That look when he probably thought that we were onto him.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” Ivaryn replied, once again chuckling. “I was about to lose it when he looked at me like a crazy person when I asked him ‘how many fingers?’!”

Sulia did laugh at that, but quieted very quickly again, not wanting to wake Joram.

“I mean, the clues have been adding up,” Ivaryn said, shaking his head.

“I know!” She said. “What baby has a glare like that?!”

“Right?! I didn’t know that a baby could look like an old man!”

That just about got them laughing again.

“So,” she started, then pause a second. “What do we do?”

That gave him pause. At length, he responded. “Well, he is our son. Just because he might remember something of his old life, doesn’t mean that we should hold that against him. We are, after all, all reincarnations.”

“True, the Eternal Cycle does go on,” she replied, nodding. “So, why would it scare him so much that we might discover that he isn’t just a baby?”

“Maybe he was an Old Master from ancient times that has plans on conquering the world?”

That got a pillow thrown at him for his efforts.

“But really,” she said. “Is he scared that we would abandon him or something?”

Ivaryn nodded. “Probably,” he said. “It must have been quite an adjustment if he has had his memories the entire time.”

Sulia blinked. “Wait, you don’t suppose that he was responsible for healing me, do you?”

Ivaryn paused, then shook his head. “As far as I know, anyone who has reincarnated with some, or all of their memories still had to cultivate to regain their strength. How could he do something like that while still in the womb?”

She shook her head, but said, “It’s just a feeling I have. I can’t quite explain it, but the connection I have with him is more than just a maternal bond, it’s… deeper. I can feel what he does, and I’m almost certain that I could hear him speaking to me if the ‘connection’ were to get stronger.”

Ivaryn was nodding along, seemingly deep in thought.

“So,” he began. “If he does indeed have the memories from his past life, does that mean that I have an old man suckling on my wife’s bosom?”

That got him a chair thrown at his head.

* * *

Avi was well pleased.

After only about twenty minutes after Joram’s panicked message, Sulia came into the portal room and activated the door/portal.

This time, she was ready. She manifested [Reality Revision] as soon as Sulia was halfway through the portal, causing a small pile of Dust Crystals in the storage space to turn into inert dust that seemed to blow away in a wind that didn’t exist.

But what it produced was well-worth the cost.

As she watched, as small runestone coalesced in front of her, taking shape over the next several seconds. It was a rather pretty effect, as it looked like ethereal strands spun together to form the runestone.

Before it could fall, Avi reached out two limbs and grabbed it, glad that it wasn’t much bigger than she was, otherwise she might have fallen off the ceiling.

She then transferred the runestone, now a deep amethyst in colour, into their realm for safekeeping. She didn’t know if Sulia had noticed the burst of psionic energy, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Ah, job well-done Avi! Thank you Joram! She mimed with her legs, then heaved a mental sigh.

Was Joram’s baby-brain affecting her too?

She really hoped not.

Well, off to study the runestone!

* * *

- Week 38 –

Deciphering the language of his new home wasn’t too difficult. Well, the spoken portion, anyway.

The written portion was just… crazy. He’d been hoping that it would have been like learning Spanish, or Italian. No, no convenient character overlap with this language. This was closer to Chinese, or the ancient Japanese stuff that had come from China, but that they’d turned into their own.

They used characters as simple as one line all the way to ones that had at least thirty. And dots. And things that looked like apostrophes… The entire meaning of a word/character would change based on where that extra bit went.

He’d had to “cheat” a bit at first. He had had Avi take the entire dictionary, every character, and add it to a Crystal Mind.

That way, he could assimilate the Crystal Mind and always have the dictionary handy when he came across something that gave him trouble.

Yes, he could just memorize the entire thing himself, but that wasn’t as useful as it seemed. He needed to form the neural patterns in his developing brain, train his brain to see and know what each character meant instead of just recognizing it.

It was the difference between memorizing a mathematical formula and actually knowing what to do with it, knowing how to flip that “a” from the left side of the equation to the right side, as it were. It was much more complicated than that, but that was the simplest simile he could think of right then.

Then, as he got his parents to read him the baby books, he would attach the verbal component to the character, and the ascribed meaning. Then the meaning of that character when used in different context. Nevermind the words that had the same pronunciation, but different characters with different structures and meanings.

Damn other languages having the same issues as English!

Sure, English only had twenty-six letters in its alphabet, but it also had others like “&” that was almost added to the official alphabet at one point.

Anyway, with those twenty-six letters, you could create millions of words. It was a great system that made learning and recognizing words pretty easy.

This, this language here was tough.

There was a new character for each and every word, nevermind ones that represented concepts or ideas, or even whole philosophies. Even the shape of a brushstroke would subtly alter its meaning.

He had been about to give up when his parents threw him the metaphorical bone and showed him the books with the simplified characters in it. It was closer to a phonetic character set, like the Japanese katakana. This form seemed to have been made for the commoners who didn’t have the time needed to learn the full character set, but still needed to “read”.

It was also used to help children practice their pronunciation and penmanship- er, brushwork.

But it was, again, much easier to speak and he was getting much better at doing so. Probably because the actual spoken language sounded like a weird cross between English and Japanese, with a heavier tilt towards the Japanese side.

But it wasn’t Japanese. Words that he’d picked up over his years of watching anime and casually studying the language didn’t match up. Even if there was a word that sounded the same, the meaning was completely different here, and that drove him a bit nuts.

Anyway! The point was that he was making progress and could even convey to his parents what he wanted… without the weird lip-syncing issues.

For their part, his parents seemed quite pleased with his progress. He was still unsure if they suspected that he wasn’t just a normal, if an exceptionally talented, baby. Every now and then, he’d spot them exchanging a look, but he couldn’t quite parse the meaning behind it.

The worst part was that he didn’t know if it meant something more than just a look, or if they were just sharing a proud parent moment. He also didn’t know if it was his baby-brain affecting his perception of events or not… and that worried him.

Would he lose various aspects of himself as he grew? Would his mind slowly revert to that of a child?

Would that be so bad?

Sure, there were arguments for both sides, but he was more leaning towards “bad”. He wanted to grow up fast, learn how to become a Mage, and maybe even a Cultivator, so that when he went searching for Altaea he wouldn’t just get bitch-slapped into oblivion again by some random douchebag.

That said, he should probably learn to be a bit more humble. Could he have avoided death there if he’d just kept telling the truth? Or would that old man have just killed him after taking him for everything that he had?

He’d heard the phrase “might makes right” more than once in his short time here, and he supposed that the only way to prevent becoming a random fatality in this world was to get stronger.

And knowledge was power.

Back to the book.

* * *

“Still nothing?”

Healer Reursa shook his head. “Nothing Matriarch,” he replied. “The child is careful and does not easily fall. If he does, well, I’ve never seen so much as a shadow of a bruise on him, let alone a scrape.”

Matriarch Tatia nodded, secretly pleased that her great-grandson was doing so well, but also somewhat vexed. They needed an excuse to do a more thorough examination on him, and he wasn’t giving them a chance to do so.

Well, not like anyone went out of their way to hurt themselves, let alone an infant.

Well, that point could be argued. Babies were notorious for getting themselves into unfortunate situations. Perhaps Sulia and that man were just keeping too close an eye on him?

Well, the time for Sulia and company to head out on missions again was coming up soon. Well, when Joram turned two. Then she’d be able to send them out and have an easier time examining the child.

Maybe she should start spending more time around him? That would give her a chance to perform her own examinations while building up a good relationship with him.

Not that that was strictly needed, but if he did wind up being the genius of the younger generation, then all the better.

Strong familial ties keep clans going when disaster strikes, as they say.

“Then I shall take over for the time being,” she said with a small nod towards the door. “Thank you for your assistance in this.”

Healer Reursa looked startled for a moment, but then quickly bowed and made his way out of the parlour.

It was another lovely day, a beautiful summer day that promised gentle breezes and fluffy clouds.

Maybe she’d take Joram out to walk in her gardens? That would certainly change things up for him, and perhaps…

Yes, it was a fine day for a walk.

* * *

Joram had been a bit surprised when Grammy had come by to pick him up.

His mother was, of course, beyond happy that her grandmother was taking such an interest in him, so had been more than happy to let the two head off together.

Joram regarded his great-grandmother with not a small amount of awe and respect. Here was a woman that was almost two hundred years old but looked like she could be his mother’s sister. The resemblance was uncanny.

Then there was the aspect of her being the Matriarch of their clan, a rather large clan with thousands of family members to keep track of and manage. Sure, most were so distantly related that they made little Xixi look like his twin sister, but they were all nonetheless a tight-knit group.

As they headed through the halls, Grammy held him in a cradled position, cushioning his head against her bosom.

Yes, that was the way it should be. Comfort while being carried.

It was so familiar, and the softness through her silk robes so familiar, that he just about went for a snack before he stopped himself. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

He knew that her body was just as “young” as she appeared to be, but he was also fairly sure that those mammary glands hadn’t done any “work” in over a century. There would be no lunch coming from them, only the high possibility of getting a swat on the head.

He did, however, adopt the position anyway, and snuggles were a good way to show an adult that you were happy.

His efforts were rewarded shortly after by a rumbling coming from Grammy’s chest; a beautiful tune that she hummed as she walked. It was so nice that he even felt himself drifting off as he listened.

Soon enough, though, he was brought back to his surroundings by as face-full of sunshine, causing him to squeeze his eyes closed and attempt to burry his head in Grammy’s chest.

Well, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Time to explore, little Joram,” she said, as smile in her voice.

He looked around again as she crouched down and placed him on his feet where he wobbled for a moment before catching his balance again.

He noticed two major things at that point. One: that his bare feet were very happy with the soft grass, and two: that he could see Grammy’s bare feet peeking out from under her robes when she stood up again.

Huh.

“Mmm-mmm,” he mumbled with a nod then looked around.

They were in a very well-kept garden with a fantastic view of the mountains not too far in the distance. The place was filled with small ceremonial trees that were ringed in cut stone, many gardens filled with flowers of all kinds, and even a small stream that led to a large pond, or a small lake. He was never very good at determining when a pond became a lake. To him, a lake was at least a kilometre across, but he was also sure that the rest of the world didn’t agree with that.

He looked back to Grammy, eyes wide.

She smiled and nodded at him. “Go on, explore,” she said and made a delicate shooing motion with her hands.

Welp, no need to ask me twice! Joram thought as he turned and first hurried over to the flowers.

For a wonder, he actually recognized a few of the flowers. He’d already catalogued them and was interested because he was pretty sure that they were considered medicinal plants. Was it just a coincidence, or was this garden cultivated for an alchemist’s use?

He noticed Grammy get close a couple of times when he approached a few different plants, ready to intervene. He supposed that perhaps those ones weren’t healthy for a toddler to play with.

He looked up at Grammy while pointing to one of the specimens that had cause her to approach.

“Bad?” He asked, trying had to pronounce it properly.

She blinked at him, then smiled a radiant smile. “Yes and no,” she said. “That is called Thunder Sage and will give a slight shock if touched without the proper gloves. It can also be used to help cultivate an affinity to thunder if refined correctly.”

That’s a thing?

He made an “oh” face and began pointing to every other one, taking studious mental notes that he’d add to his flora codex (mental note: find a better name for it) later that night.

Joram was pleasantly surprised to find that he was having a great time with his Grammy. He hadn’t really known what to expect from Grammy-time, but his was certainly better than what he’d vaguely thought it would be.

Yes, she was an awesome leader. Yes, she was a powerful Mage. But those things didn’t always translate to being awesome in smaller, more personal settings.

This was a good day.

* * *

Tatia followed along as Joram went from plant to plant, inspecting each with his big eyes while his mouth opened wide in wonderment.

She was amazed that he stayed with her, listening to everything that she said, even when she told him not to touch something.

From her experience with her own five children, that had seldom been the case with curious children.

Who was she kidding, just about every child in the clan managed to injure themselves at some point because they hadn’t listened to the advice of their parents or someone else.

This, this was almost bizarre. He was nine and a half months old and looked like he was absorbing what she was saying like a dry sponge in water. What could cause such studiousness in a child?

Was it the emergence of a prestigious bloodline? Doubtful, as they hadn’t found anything when they’d eventually been able to get a drop of blood from Joram after that disastrous first attempt.

She nearly laughed there, catching herself just in time.

Was he just better disposed to absorbing ambient mana than most? But the Brain Rank was later in Tier Zero, so that wasn’t likely the case.

Could it be his diet? Most women in the clan had their children a bit younger, as a strong body that came with the higher tiers sometimes made it harder to conceive and give birth. She, herself, had had all of her children while in the second tier.

Did the breastmilk of a high rank, third tier Mage have such unrecorded benefits for the infant? And Sulia was a higher ranked third tier Mage than most in her generation. Actually, she was at the bottom of that generation, age-wise, and yet she was still right at the top of the clan rankings.

Maybe she could convince some of her older peers to try for more babies to see if the breastmilk really was the key here. If so, then their clan just may reach new heights in the foreseeable future.

Watching Joram play, she even started thinking that it might be nice to have another one of her own…

If only Kinkade were still with them…

With a shake of her head, she hurried after Joram, who seemed determined to learn how to swim.

* * *

- Week 52 –

Ah, winter again, Joram thought to himself as he watched the snow gently falling past the window from the chair he’d brought over to look out said window.

Today marked his first full year as Joram Aneath. Well, he’d turned one anyway. He’d really only gotten his name at almost four months old.

That said, he once again found himself dressed to the nines, as it were. His robes were now the same shade as his hair, which had thankfully darkened a shade, trimmed with the same purple as his mother’s hair. They’d even thrown his father a bone by getting him some black slippers.

Or it was just customary to wear black slippers, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, he felt quite spiffy with his long hair tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, a new jade circlet (though of the same design) on his brow.

The adults were still getting ready, leaving him to his own devices.

Well, not that that was an unusual occurrence these days. They’d found that he was quite “mature” for his age and wouldn’t get into trouble if left alone for a short time. Ah, just how he liked it.

He’d studiously cultivated the image of a responsible youth (toddler) and had reaped the benefits. He was able to be left alone for as much as an hour at a time without someone constantly hovering nearby. Sure, he was still in the same nursery as Xixi and Xiao’Kid- er, Lysanthir (Zanth for short), but he could “read” by himself for a good amount of time.

Heck, after he’d shown initiative in wanting to be potty-trained, they’d been overjoyed and had thus given him a bit more free reign.

At the same time, his mother seemed to be going through a bit of baby-withdrawal. She would insist on cuddle time before bed, not just the normal “top-up” time he’d get to supplement his now mostly solid diet.

He didn’t mind, though. He found that he really did love his parents and extended family. Spending time cuddling his mother before she went to bed was just plain awesome. His father was a bit more reserved, but also still loved his tackle-hugs. But mommy-cuddles trumped daddy-cuddles mainly because cuddling his father felt like cuddling a marble statue, albeit a warm marble statue.

He sighed, flopped down into the chair, and adjusted his circlet.

He was very proud of Xixi and Zander. Xixi had started walking about a month after he had, which was impressive, and even Zander had started experimenting with walking now. Aunt Aloralla and aunt Selussa were both kept busy shadowing their progeny, preventing mishaps here and there. It was good exercise.

Joram looked around again, this time noticing that almost everyone was ready, then did a mental check-up on his bladder.

Hmm, should probably deal with that before the party, he mused, then hopped down and headed over to the water closet.

A minute later, he was disrobed and ready to go!

He was still weirded out that they didn’t have a hand-washing station in there, but didn’t let that stop him. He’d found that if he was far enough away from everyone, he could just activate a [Clean Hands] item that he’d made a couple months back and assimilated. It used very little power, unlike a full blast of [Cleanse], so it was able to go undetected if he was alone in there.

Still, he’d need to somehow get that oversight remedied when he was a bit older.

For now, he concentrated on getting the robe back on, in just the right way.

For all his efforts, his mother still came over and straightened everything just so. Was it a mom super-power to be able to adjust ones’ clothing even though they appeared perfect?

Soon enough, he was herded into the grand hall and once again presented to the Clan. He was pleased to see that there were more babies in attendance this time ‘round as that would take a bit of the social pressure off him.

He was, however, disappointed to notice that they didn’t have the birthday cake tradition here. Sure, there were sweets and stacks aplenty, but there was just something about blowing out candles on your birthday that was appealing. And, of course, nostalgic.

“Jo!”

He turned to see Xixi waving from her mother’s arms, also dressed up, but not quite as fancy as he was. She would have her own celebration for her parents to show her off soon enough.

He smiled at her, noticing that her hair was getting pretty long for her age, nearly to her shoulders already. It was also getting a wee bit darker too. He wondered if her hair would be as dark as his mother’s when she got older.

Then they were off playing, having gone through the obligatory presentation and well-wishes. He was interested to note that this culture also handed small envelopes to his parents, who then placed them into a basket by their side.

Was that birthday money?

The thought went to the back of his head as he stopped in front of one of the many examples of calligraphy hanging around the main hall, all done in that vertical stile, like a scroll rolling down the wall. He blinked, then blinked again.

This one seemed to have hidden depths to it.

“Xixi,” he started. “The character on the top is for ‘Clear’, as in undisturbed, or unable to be disturbed by outside forces, unperturbable.” He explained, then pulled a chair over, then a second one for himself so that he could point things out easier.

For her part Xixi nodded along, eyes serious as she followed his pointing finger. He smiled. She was such a studious girl.

Through his connection to her, he could tell that she was fascinated by it, so he kept explaining his insights into each character. As he went on and on, he felt that even his understanding was opening up as he took in each character individually, then as a whole.

He was most startled by the same feeling coming from Xixi, then realized that even at her tender age, she was gaining a profound insight from this painting. So he hurried to sit her down, careful not to distract her too much from her thoughts, and sat down right beside her to go over the insights that he’d gleaned.

* * *

Sulia was having a good time. There were, of course, still many of her “political” opposition in attendance at Joram’s birthday celebration, but they were playing nice. So that was a plus.

She was also enjoying socializing with her extended family that she usually didn’t get to visit with due to distance or work schedules. She’d even heard a rumour that her mother might actually be coming back to the Clan, having finally finished her assignment.

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, but decided to make the best of it.

They’d been… distant. Growing up, her grandmother was more of a mother to her than Bezia had been, as she kept taking assignment after assignment that took her away from the clan home.

It had given her a bit of a complex growing up, thinking that maybe her mother didn’t love her very much, or that she’d somehow disappointed her in some way.

Her grandmother had spent years reassuring her that that wasn’t the case, that Bezia had always been like that. Distant. Even her older brother had been treated the same, or so she’d heard.

That had kind of made it worse for her, for she then started thinking that she was no better than the men of the clan, a second-rate existence.

Yes, her grandmother had had her hands full keeping her granddaughter’s brain from exploding every other day.

She smiled at that, glad that she’d been able to share a closer bond with Joram than she’d enjoyed from her own mother. The best part was that she’d been rewarded with Joram’s reciprocated feelings. It was easy to tell, as she could feel the warmth flowing through their bond.

She blinked.

There was a lot of warmth flowing through their bond, and not the kind she’d just been thinking about.

She quickly looked around, then started making her way through the great hall in search of Joram. Ivaryn spotted her and immediately caught on, searching the other side of the hall from her.

Then she spotted her grandmother’s waving arm, and b-lined it over to her. The expression on her grandmother’s face demanded nothing less.

She arrived and slid through the small semi-circle of people gathered to witness the spectacle in front of them.

And there was her mother, Bezia.

“Hello, my daughter,” she said as she looked up, a small smile on her face.

There she sat on a padded bench, Joram on one lap, Xixi on the other. That wasn’t exactly startling to see, but the fact that both children had their eyes closed and were giving off minor magical turbulence, was.

Bezia held them, their feet dangling off her thighs as they both leaned back into her, their heads bowed.

“What caused this?” She asked in wonderment, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb her son or her niece.

Bezia just nodded to her right before looking back down at the little ones on her lap.

Sulia looked to the side and noticed two chairs pulled up to one of the calligraphy paintings, this one describing how a clear, unruffled mind was the source of enlightenment. There were, of course, many layers to it, but that was the gist of it.

She then looked back to the two one year-olds sitting in her mother’s lap, her jaw dropping.

“It seems that we have a couple good seeds here, no?” Bezia said with a mysterious smile on her face.

Word spread and soon the entire hall was gathered around, respect and awe keeping them quiet, or at least very soft whispers.

Sulia stood there with her husband, holding his hand. She wished she could find a room and speak with him right then, but she also wanted to stay there for when Joram came out of his epiphany, to be able to hold and cuddle him and congratulate him, and all the things!

Deep breath.

Intellectually, she knew that Joram was a reincarnation that had managed to keep at least part of his memories, if not all, but she nevertheless felt so proud of him at that moment. Even Xixi was there, also going through an epiphany of her own.

If there was anything that pointed to an auspicious future for those two kids, it was this. She didn’t know what their futures would hold, but it would surely be great.

* * *

Matriarch Tatia Aneath stood with her granddaughter as they both witnessed something that had never been recorded before.

It was, quite simply, humbling to behold.

Here were two toddlers, already having their first epiphany at barely a year old. When was the last time that she’d had a breakthrough in her own studies? When had any of her children’s generation had one recently?

She looked again at the painting that the children had been observing, really looked this time. She sent her senses out to it, taking everything in that she could perceive, every curve of each brushstroke, even the faint lines at the edges of each stroke.

She’d initially dismissed those miniscule lines that paralleled each stroke as having been made by an average calligraphist but had kept it in the hall due to its extreme age.

But now she took those lines in with the whole, seeing that they, in fact, did not take away from the character, but added to it. Then she looked to the other characters and saw that each one had its own miniscule strokes that added to each, and then added to the whole.

Tatia’s eyes flashed, a small smile forming on her lips, then she promptly sat down in the middle of the great hall and closer her eyes to meditate.

* * *

Sulia was flabbergasted.

Yes, that was the correct word for the situation.

One seemingly impossible event that involved her son and niece, and two highly improbable events involving her mother and her grandmother.

Sure, seeing her mother was… nice, and a somewhat welcome event. It was even nice seeing her son being held by her mother.

But seeing her grandmother drop all propriety and just sit down on the floor of the great hall was almost as world-shaking as seeing Joram taken in epiphany.

Then she felt Ivaryn’s hand go slack in hers and turned in time to see him dropping down to sit on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, and hands folded in a hand seal.

What is going on here?! She mentally screamed, at her wits’ end.

What it that painting? Well, it must be. But what was so special about it that could cause four people to have such a fortuitous experience by simply observing it?

So, she too began to study the old painting, not realizing that everyone else in the hall were also now intently studying it.

* * *

Bezia smiled to herself as she watched everyone staring intently at the old painting.

It was about time someone noticed that it was actually an old treasure left by one of their ancestors.

She looked over to her husband, Zanth, and smiled to see that he too was now giving the painting serious thought and contemplation.

Well, at least he was good-looking.

For now, she would enjoy the baby-cuddles.