Joram opened his eyes as the feelings of understanding finally withdrew from his mind and saw an unusual sight in front of him.

Now he knew why his mother had been so confused that she’d actually managed to scream through their connection in his network for the first time. He’d ignored it, instead focussing on gaining as much as he could from his sudden burst of understanding.

Well, it looked like both of his parents were now in silent meditation, as well as Grammy and most of his aunts and uncles, and not a few cousins. There were, however, many more people still staring at the painting though.

Well, not everyone was lucky.

That said, he could still feel little Xixi’s concentration through their connection, not to mention the waves of concentration flowing through the connection with his mother.

As he sat there, he came to a realization.

Someone was holding him.

He blinked, turned his head up and to the side, and regarded the woman who was holding not only him, but Xixi as well.

She was rather striking. Her hair was purple like a clan member’s would be, and she only looked to be in her early twenties. Looking a bit more, he realized that she shared many of the same features of his mother and Grammy.

Was she another aunt that he’d not met yet? Or was she the fabled “grandmother” that had been out on assignment his entire life?

Well, to be fair, he was only now a year old, but still. Perspective.

She was also looking down at him with her jade eyes. Well, not jade-jade, but jade-coloured.

Why am I mentally babbling? He chided himself as he did a quick mental head shake.

“Granny?” He asked, then immediately regretted it as her hand snaked out and a finger flicked him in the middle of the forehead.

After about a minute or so the stinging died down and he looked up at the Old Witch through teary eyes.

What’s her problem?!

“You may call me ‘grandmother’, ‘gran’, ‘grandma’, or even ‘nana’. But not ‘granny’. That’s just rude.” She explained as she once again began to cuddle with Xixi.

He gave her his best pout, doing his best to get the puppy-dog eyes working, trying to play up the shimmering eyes so as not to waste the tears that were already there.

She just stared at him.

“I have three sons of my own, and a daughter,” she began. “Do you really think that that look will work on me?”

He knew then, deep down in his bones, that this woman was going to be his bane.

* * *

- Week 60 –

Joram sighed as he sat with his Gran and recited each character she drew for him.

It had indeed been hell.

His parents had been out of it for a whole week, along with most of the people there who'd been at the party.

Grammy had broken through to Tier 6, what cultivators called the Mystic Realm. The benefits were also quite amazing, as she’d gained another four hundred hears or so to her lifespan. Which was apparently a good thing, as Tier 6 was one of the hardest tiers to complete. Most people stalled out in the 6th Tier, so he hoped that Grammy would be able to progress!

Then there were the cosmetic benefits.

He’d had to suffer an untold number of delusional bachelors intruding on his Grammy Time as they seemed to pop up like flies wherever they went.

Grammy was now well beyond super-model status, approaching Altaea-levels of beauty.

So, he performed his filial duty to the best of his ability and screwed with those idiots to the best of his ability. No mercy for gold-diggers!

His mother had gone up to Rank 10 of Tier 3, a whole 2 ranks up! His father had broken through to Tier 4, Rank 1 and was now considered one of the elites of the clan… Well, the clan’s males anyway. Either way, Joram could feel the power rolling off his father as he had continued to solidify his foundations after having broken through.

There were a few others, but that wasn’t as important as the fact that that painting had become a priceless treasure of the clan and was moved to a secure training hall where people could come and meditate on what they saw.

Back to the present.

Once Gran had learned that he had daily Grammy-Time, she’d insisted that she also get some time with him every day.

Sometimes, his Grammy and Gran time would overlap, causing a distinct cuddles-deficit in his day, but would also allow him to learn interesting things.

Like how his Gran would be leaving in the not-too-distant future on another assignment, this one likely to take much longer than the previous one. They hadn’t gone into details, but he was insanely curious about it, as they had briefly mentioned that the destination would be the Zhizun Zhanshi continent.

Obviously, they’d sent people there before on assignment, as Avi had managed to copy over hundreds of cultivation, martial, artifact refining, and alchemical techniques in her many weeks inside the dimensional vault.

But what was this lead they were not-quite-talking about? It must have been big, as they weren’t as good at hiding their excitement as they thought they were.

He gave a mental shrug and once again came back to the present as Gran finished drawing another character.

“And what do you make of this one, little Joram?” Gran asked as she set the inkbrush down.

Joram regarded it for a moment, then stopped as he was about to look away again.

If one were creative in their description of the character, one might say that it looked like a person sitting cross-legged, hands folded, and a halo around their head, all done in meticulous brushwork.

Each stroke seemed to carry its own significance that he couldn’t quite grasp.

Ten minutes went by as he stared at it, still not quite grasping what seemed to be fluttering just out of sight.

‘Avi?’

‘Yes?’

‘Could you please recreate this in the manor. I would like to study it more,’ he sent, hardly focussing enough to do so.

‘Of course,’ Avi replied, sounding bored.

“What do you see, little Joram?” Gran asked.

“Umm,” he started. “A person meditating,” he said, being very careful to enunciate correctly.

Gran paused and looked at him again. “Do you feel anything from it?”

“Umm, I am not sure,” he said. “I think… there is more.” He finished, not quite sure how to phrase it with the limited vocabulary he was supposed to have.

Gran nodded, the faintest smile adorning her face for a fraction of a second. “Then you shall have to study harder, little Joram.” She said, a predatory smile replacing her previous expression. “I will have this hung in your room so that you can study it whenever you can.”

Joram sighed.

She would do this every time he ran into a character that he couldn’t quite grasp right away. They were, all of those ones, characters outside of standard learning, representing whole concepts, philosophies, and Daos. His head felt over-stuffed from the amount of studying that he’d been doing, even with offloading whole sections to Crystal Minds.

He’d not been able to slack at all this entire time either. It was like Gran was an insatiable taskmistress that had it in her head to stuff his head as full of knowledge as she could before leaving again.

It was a noble goal, and he’d normally applaud the zeal for learning… but he wasn’t even 2 years old yet. His poor brain was still developing!

True, this was the best time for a person to learn things. True, he was indeed soaking it up like a dry sponge. But he had really been looking forward to having a care-free childhood this time ‘round.

You know, spending his days playing in the gardens, learning as he went. Playing with his friends, developing those relationships that would last throughout their lives. Spending time with his parents, especially since they’d be heading out on assignment again shortly after he turned two…

Well, stiff upper lip and all that!

He knew that in these kinds of societies where there was still a class-system, that the youth of the rich would receive tutoring for years before they were declared ready to take up their position in society.

It wasn’t that different from what he’d come from, actually…

So, he took the insane tutoring sessions with his Gran as just another way to improve himself… Even if it took time away from Grammy and his parents…

After another half-hour, this time studying mathematics, he was set free in the garden to run about and do his thing.

Which so happened to be sprawling out on the lawn, letting his poor brain cool off in the “winter” air. Ha!

Winter in these parts consisted of it cooling off about ten degrees (Celsius) and getting slightly windier. To see snow was an exceptionally rare thing, much to his disappointment.

His first whole winter had been spent inside, not able to see anything out the windows, so he’d missed the fact that it hadn’t snowed at all that year.

This year, well, he was able to run around and do this thing, mostly. He’d been dreaming of making snowmen with his little cousins, teaching them the ways of snow-play. His heart had been shattered.

So, he lay there in the wind, enjoying the cool breeze, not paying it any mind even though some of the servants looks apprehensive in letting him lay there without a scarf or something.

It didn’t really bother him at all, as shortly after he’d come out of his “epiphany”, he’d realized that he had stepped into the paths of cultivation/mage-hood. He’d gone up a whole four ranks in Tier 0, or as the cultivators called it: Body Tempering.

His hearing and sight had improved drastically to the point where he could see the veins on the leaved from ten metres away. Well, it wasn’t spectacular, as he’d had much better vision before his… accident. But it was progress for someone who’d had trouble making out details from more than twenty metres away.

He’d also noticed that his skin felt tougher, and when he’d [Delve]d his body one night, he’d found that even his bones were much denser than they had been.

Gran had given him a physical examination, much to Healer Reursa’s indignation, and had confirmed that he’d stepped all the way to Rank 4.

From what he’d learned, there were still another five ranks to go before he fully stepped onto the path of cultivation/mage-hood, as Tier 0 was universally accepted as being the foundational stage where the chaff was separated from the good seeds. Because, if you couldn’t get past Tier 0 in your youth, then you stood no chance of progressing along either path.

He sighed as he stared up at the fluffy clouds above.

Joram really wished that he and Avi had found a good cultivation technique before he’d started, but he still had hopes that it wouldn’t somehow hinder his progress. They’d read many accounts of would-be trainees starting their cultivation before getting a good manual to guide their progress. Most of them failed in the long-run, effectively crippling their growth by taking a wrong path somewhere.

Maybe they’d find something soon.

* * *

Bezia watched Joram as he stared up at the sky, spread-eagled on the well manicured lawn.

He was an amazingly smart child, almost scarily so.

After his epiphany, she realized that he would need extra care and consideration with his coming education.

When Sulia had told her that she and Ivaryn had already started reading lessons with him, she knew that she couldn’t delay for even a day.

She’d arranged to have him for a short time each day, ostensibly for Grandmother/grandson time. But everyone knew what she was like and expected what had come.

Bezia had started her own children’s education at a young age and had been quite rigorous in her efforts with them. True, she had started when they’d turned four, but the principle was the same.

In just the two months of tutoring since his first-year celebration, Joram had passed where her own children had been after a full year learning. It was astonishing.

But slowly, she’d started thinking that things might not be what they’d seemed. She wasn’t quite sure, but she suspected that perhaps “little” Joram wasn’t as little as he seemed.

Unfortunately, every time she had arranged a test for Joram to prove her theory, her own mother would stop by saying that her own schedule only permitted that specific time for her daily visit with Joram.

Now, she was no fool, so when her mother had interrupted them for the third time, Bezia came to suspect that Tatia knew more than what she let on.

Which only helped prove that there was indeed something to hide.

Her theory was such: Joram was, as they all were, a reincarnation. But where he differed was that he’d kept a portion - or all - of his memories.

It would explain his unnerving intelligence, his early development, even his stepping into Tier 0 at the tender age of one!

What it didn’t explain, was how little Xiora had also followed Joram’s achievements so closely with her own.

What was the likelihood of have not one, but two children born in the same clan, within two weeks of each other, as well as retaining her memories? She’d tried doing the calculations but had stopped when the probability had reached the ten-digit mark… when she was only part-way through.

What was done was done. She only hoped that Joram and little Xiora would prove to bring blessings to their clan, and not catastrophe.

She didn’t know much about Xiora, as she couldn’t really spend much time with her, but from what she had gathered about Joram, he might have been an alchemist in his past life. Between a rumour of him already having a faint trace of mental strength and his interest in the various medicinal gardens, it wasn’t a difficult conclusion to come to.

But what bothered her was that they couldn’t, after all this time, confirm whether-or-not Joram did indeed have a talent for mental strength or not. Hence today’s last character.

It was one that embodied the basic concepts of mental strength, and had a chance of brining out that spark in someone who pondered on it.

She’d hoped that Joram would show more of a reaction to it, but was still hopeful as he’d spent about ten minutes just staring at the character she’d drawn. She hadn’t felt any resonance with him yet, but he was still quite young, so again, she had high hopes for him.

If only she could smooth out his personality a bit. He was, by far, too cheeky in how he behaved. Sure, he did what he was told, but there was just something about how he did things sometimes that got on her nerves.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Again, she shouldn’t take things too seriously. For all she knew, he wasn’t a reincarnator at all, but just an exceptionally gifted youth, like Xiora… He was only fifteen months old.

So why did he sometimes feel like an old soul when she looked into his eyes? Or was she just imagining things to corroborate her theory?

She sighed, then looked over to where her husband, Xander, was sitting while reading a book. Then had a thought.

“Xander,” she said. “How would you like to…”

* * *

Bane. Of. His. Existence.

Sure, Gran might pretend to be all nice and sweet and everything, but he knew.

She was a sadist; one who enjoyed the suffering of others. There was no other explanation for what was happening now.

His grandfather, Xander, or maybe just “Gramps”?, was standing a few feet away from him, holding a stick. He’d given Joram a much nicer looking stick, and had proceeded to smack, thwack, poke, prod, hack, and slash him for the last twenty minutes.

The man was well over six feet tall (yes, back and forth between imperial and metric; curse his upbringing!) and was built almost as well as he had been before… now. Which meant that he still looked like an Olympian.

Sigh.

Why was he putting up with this on such a lovely day? Well.

Grammy had shown up seconds after the “bout” had started, but hadn’t stopped it. No, she had encouraged it on the premise that he could train to be like his father and grandfather!

Grammy had lost points there.

Sure, he was familiar with fighting with any number of weapons, having been trained by a walking arsenal and all. But! He was much better with his bare hands. And feet. Well, pretty much his whole body. He had been super-glad that he was getting better at controlling his body, working on the various kata, or forms, that Altaea had taught him, as well as ones they’d developed themselves.

It was damn hard practicing though, as he had to do that at night, all the while trying to be as quiet as could be so as not to wake his parents. Night-time was also the time where he studied the copies of the many materials, documents, tomes, manuals, techniques, and arts that Avi brought back each day.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he was no longer allowed to take an afternoon nap each day, as that was when he took time to actually sleep.

Another sigh.

Gramps was a beast. He was pretty sure that the man was early Tier 5. So, why did they think it was appropriate for him to be testing his modest– if you were being generous, that is- reflexes? He had several welts already, with many more still forming across his little body.

Was it truly to test his aptitude? Wasn’t this sort of thing meant for those children who’d already turned five?

He gave his grandpa a very pouty look as he tossed his nice stick aside.

“No more,” he said, trying to keep the slight warble out of his voice.

Now that he was no longer focussed solely on his tormentor, Joram noticed that they’d managed to gain quite the crowd. Servants lined the walkways where various family members weren’t already standing. Grammy and Gran were standing beside each other, while his parents stood slightly apart, concerned expressions plain on their faces.

When she saw that gramps wasn’t going to say anything, his mother rushed over to him in a flash and scooped him up in a huge hug.

Normally, such an occurrence would have been most welcome, but it wasn’t such a good thing this time.

“Ow-ow-ow-owwww~~,” Joram whined as the welts that had merely stung before now flared up like gas poured on a bonfire.

Oh, how he missed being able to just turn of his nerve endings…

Instead, as his mother produced a healing balm, he concentrated with [Autohypnosis] to ignore the pain.

A moment later he was breathing easier as his mother smeared the balm over him, shooting death-glares at her mother and father. He listened as people discussed the “training” session and was a little bit surprised to hear an overall approval for the session.

He was sure to take note of those people, as they seemed to be predominantly the clan members who were vying for a higher status with each other, and his own family. They were the ones with children they hoped to get into higher ranking positions in the clan.

He sighed, then gave his mother a hug, being careful to not smear any of the balm on her robes. His efforts were in vain, as she didn’t seem to care about that and once again scooped him up into a protective hug.

“So,” she said, turning to her father. “Why go so hard on my baby?”

Her father blinked at her, looked at his stick, then tossed it over a shoulder.

“A few scrapes is hardly ‘going hard’ on the boy,” he said rumbled, calm as could be.

He could feel his mother’s blood pressure rising. He was sure that there was history there, as his mother didn’t generally get worked up over a few welts… Well, this was more than a few, but easily taken care of with her balm.

To distract her, Joram reached over, wrapped his arms around her neck, and gave her a great-big raspberry on the cheek that sounded like some prodigious flatulence.

Everyone stopped. Everyone stared.

“When I’m as tall as gramps,” he said, pointing a finger at said gramps, “I’ll win!”

3… 2… 1…

The spectators burst into laughter, some approving, most mocking. His own father clapped him on the shoulder so enthusiastically that he nearly fell out of his mother’s arms, eliciting a Look from his mother.

He watched the reactions of Gran and Grammy, noting how their smiles were similar, both showing faint signs of approval, though Gran looked a bit amused. What she was amused at, he couldn’t say, but there it was.

Through their bond, his mother was radiating a confusing swirl of amusement, concern, disbelief, and a fierce pride that mostly overwhelmed the rest.

Not only her, but Joram could also feel little Xixi’s excitement flow through their bond after his declaration. He looked around quickly and saw that she was watching with Aloralla off to the side, though not as far as they would have been in the past.

Xixi’s own accomplishments had put her on everyone’s radar, as it were. The only reason that people were paying so much attention to him was because he was the Heir’s son. If he hadn’t been around, Joram was sure that Xixi would have been centre stage, even with her practically being from a branch family.

That said, he was nonetheless proud of is little cousin, as her accomplishments were her own; he’d only guided her a bit.

“Well done, Joram,” Grammy said as she stepped forward, waving a hand at the gathered crowd. “I’m sure everyone has something important to do.”

A cool look was all it took to scatter the crowd, though Joram tried to wave to aunt Aloralla to get her and Xixi to stay. Alas, his Grammy’s cool look was still stronger than his waving arm.

With a sigh, he wiggled around again, gave his mom a kiss on the cheek and another hug.

After she’d reciprocated, Joram was let down to stand on his own feet. Even with the cool air, he loved the feel of the soft grass under his feet, between his toes.

He looked down at his feet and smiled. He had more normal looking feet this time ‘round. Not that he’d had particularly unusual feet before, but they’d been rather wide which made finding good shoes a literal pain. Also, no toe gap, so maybe he’d give flip-flop type sandals another go in this life.

Joram looked at the adults, noticed that they were not paying him any attention, then quickly slipped away as they began discussing “appropriate” levels of training for him.

He chased after Xixi, hoping to get some actual play-time into his day.

* * *

In a dim space, filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves, stacks, and cases with pigeon-holes that scrolls of various makes and sizes were stored in. Surprisingly, the area was dust-free with not a trace of a cobweb to be seen.

Nevertheless, the place gave off an ancient vibe, almost pressing down on the observer. There must have been many preservation and cleaning runes, arrays, or formations to keep the massive stone hall pristine.

Though, if one thought about it, most dust came from living beings shedding dead cells and such, or other things being slowly disintegrated by various organisms eating it. A wooden bookshelf would normally disintegrate in the time it took for this place to gather such an ancient aura.

Even mites’ excrement added to the accumulation of dust. There weren’t even any windows in the great hall, so there was no possibility of minute particles blowing in from outside.

For that matter, there was no “outside”, as it were.

The building floated in a void, with an impenetrable fog that began only thirty or so metres away. It was a rather disconcerting view from the entryway to the hall, but not something that bothered the observer over-much, as she’d seen its like many times before. Or, rather, she’d had that knowledge passed along to her by her creator.

She took a moment to sense the spatial fluctuations around the edges of the fog and confirmed her suspicions: this place was in the astral plane. It was a logical place to create such a space, allowing for the ambient energies of the astral plane to nurture it.

Avi smiled an invisible smile as she enjoyed the moment. She’d finally managed to isolate the spatial fluctuations that this tiny realm gave off, then reverse-engineered the runestone so that she was able to create an augment for [Planeshift] that allowed her to travel directly to this space from anywhere she happened to be.

It was a proud moment celebrated by one person only.

Sigh.

She, nor even Joram, had realized just how busy his family would keep him even in his tender years. She’d wanted to bring him along for the first trip there but hadn’t been able to due to his grandpa thrashing him.

Avi mentally shook her head to help clear all that way and had another look around.

The great hall did indeed live up to its appellation. It was a good fifty metres wide and at least two hundred metres long. She wasn’t sure about that, as the massive stacks blocked her view further into the place. The ceiling wasn’t too ridiculous, only coming in at forty metres tall or so, yet the pillars that also acted as more shelving lower to the ground seemed small, almost decorative in nature.

The stacks seemed to not only be used to store various forms of written works, but also served as walls for various sub-sections of the hall. Or one could simply call them “rooms”.

Each room had a plaque naming the subject of the room, with smaller listings of sub-topics. It was well organized, pleasing Avi greatly as she walked through the place, taking note of every room, and memorizing the layout of the hall.

She’d thought of the light in the great hall as dim, but she realized that a normal human would be able to comfortably read with the light that was present.

Avi paused again, this time to appreciate how well designed this massive archive was. She could feel the various enchantments continually working to preserve everything inside of the building, even going as far as providing energy to various enchanted tomes so that they wouldn’t degrade over time.

‘Avi?’

She was so engrossed in studying the various enchantments that she nearly jumped. If she’d had an actual heart, she was sure that it would have leapt out of her non-existent mouth.

‘Yes?’ She sent, calming her thoughts as best she could.

‘You’ve been gone a while,’ he started. ‘I was just wondering if everything was OK…’

That gave her reason to pause, then quickly check her internal chronometer. Sure enough, she’d been engrossed in her studies for over two days now.

On one hand, she understood his concern, as they normally spoke quite often, with him “visiting” his realm to “spend time” with her. On the other…

Well, she’d gone a thousand years without him, so she had very little sympathy… until she remembered that he’d been more affected by his growing body than he thought he was.

No more was he the introvert that he painted himself as. He loved spending time with his parents, Xixi, Zanth, and Grammy. He ran and played with them, taking the lessons that his family arranged for him, or personally taught.

Though, his memory had suffered from his developing human brain.

He’d forgotten many of his goals along the way. What had happened to eating the monster meat when he could finally eat solids? He’d been excited about that!

‘Yes, Joram, I am well,’ she sent. ‘I am merely studying the archive I found through the portal that your mother seemed to frequent.’

‘Ah, cool. Is it very interesting?’ He sent, a bit of curiosity mixed in. Though, surprisingly, there was a bit of jealousy and guilt in there as well. Hmm.

‘I am studying the preservation and restoration enchantments in this place. I plan on investigating the content after I finish.’

‘Cool, cool…’ he sent, trying to act cool.

He really needs his body to mature as soon as possible, Avi thought with a mental face-palm.

‘Would you like to come along?’

‘No, no. I’m settling in for nap-time and just wondered how you were,’ he sent back, obviously pouting.

‘I will make a recording of my investigations and let you watch it later,’ Avi sent back. ‘Does that sound good?’

She could feel the happiness flowing through their link in the network as he replied. ‘Yes, sounds great!’

‘Then, have a good nap Joram.’

‘Thanks! Enjoy your exploration!’

Avi felt his attention moving away from her and then completely depart. For someone who’d been so… anxious about being born and having to grow up… well, he’d settled in quite well with his new life.

Well, there was nothing that she could do about it, so she got back to work studying the enchantments of the great hall, as well as the structure of this tiny realm. Just how solidly was it anchored in the astral plane?

* * *

Sulia watched as Joram slept, enjoying the peaceful look in his little face.

He was growing so fast that she couldn’t help but feel some heartache at the thought of him growing up too fast.

Sulia knew that she and Ivaryn would once again be sent out on assignment when Joram turned two, and the thought of having to leave her little boy nearly broke her heart.

What would she do without his cuddles? What would he do without her there? She knew that she would have to begin weaning him before she left, and even that caused her heart to flutter.

Would they have the same closeness as they had before he was weaned? Would he drift away, becoming more distant as she was sent on assignment after assignment? Would he become one of those useless things in the clan that knew nothing beyond pleasuring the flesh and throwing their weight around with the commoners?

As her anxiety rose, she noticed that Joram began to stir and quickly began meditating to clear her heart.

That was another thing. Would her connection, that special bond they shared, fade away as she spent extended periods of time away from him? Would he bond to someone else?

When she saw Joram begin to stir again, she clapped both hands to her face and took a deep breath.

In, then out, she told herself, imagining all the anxiety flowing out her mouth as she exhaled.

She would send letters. Lots of letters. They had a good information network that would see them safely delivered. That would work.

Her thoughts soon turned to Joram’s training and again became muddled.

From what her father had been willing to say – it had always been like trying to get a rock to speak -, he was pleased with Joram’s current abilities. Her mother, on the other hand, wouldn’t say much, but after she’d hung that character that had aspects of mental strength to it in his bedroom, she was sure that Bezia also had hope for him.

Why would she think that? Well, because her mother never did anything without a reason. For example, when she’d been a little girl, she’d had a dream about being a great healer. But after her mother had tested her aptitude for healing arts and had found it almost non-existent, Bezia had refused to entertain her with that any longer.

That Bezia had taken the initiative to place that character in Joram’s room meant that she suspected something was there.

Which scared Sulia a bit, to be honest. She and Ivaryn had done everything that they could to divert anyone’s attention away from that.

They, she and Ivaryn, had decided to support their son in everything that he did (well, nothing evil of course) and wanted him to live a peaceful life. If he became a great alchemist, so be it. If here merely wanted to study herbology, then they’d help him do so. But they didn’t want to push him.

Well, she didn’t want to push him. Ivaryn had been taken in flights of fancy that Joram would be the greatest alchemist of all time (well, she too thought that he could reach such heights) and wanted to get him on that path. Who didn’t want an amazing alchemist in the family?

Well, she did. But she didn’t want to push him into it.

She took a moment to take that in. Was she just projecting? Was she taking what she’d gone through growing up and trying to prevent that for Joram?

Sulia began rubbing her temples. It was so much easier to just find a random topic and write a thesis on it. Who knew that being a parent would be so hard? Growing up, she’d thought that she could have done a better job than her own mother. Just spend more time with her child, show more love and affection, and voila! Perfect setting!

Yes, she’d given all her love to her baby, and spent more time with him than her own mother had with her. But. Would she just let Joram do whatever he wanted? No guiding hand to show him the myriad paths he could take?

She thought about the many silk-pants and playboys in the clan and wondered if that was how they’d been made, how they’d turned out like that. Sure, their accomplishments in training and studying weren’t bad, but their characters were more than lacking.

Sulia then had imaged of a grown Joram, his hair now lavender in colour (the actual plant, not the washed out colour that people normally associated with lavender), walking around with a woman on each arm, dressed in the finest silks, with a lecherous expression on his face as he ogled the women he passed by.

*Smack!*

Aloralla looked over at her, a concerned expression on her face.

Sulia gave her a strained smile as she rubbed her cheek, glad that the pain helped to dispel the horrifying image in her head.

No, she needed to make sure that he grew up right! She would make sure that he studied! She would make sure that he remained pure and chaste! He would need good people around him to keep him on the straight and narrow path to a virtuous life!

She then looked over at Aloralla and did a more critical appraisal of her “cousin”.

She was a good-looking woman with dark green hair, a long, slender neck, and a willowy frame. She could see why Joram liked to nurse with her as she, contrary what one would expect from such a lithe body, was quite buxom.

Even though she was quite the beauty, she also dressed conservatively. That was good. She had married into the clan, but was in the periphery of the clan, being three generations removed from the main line.

She had a decent foundation, being at the top end of the 2nd Tier, yet didn’t seem overly ambitious. Since she’d arrived in the clan several years ago, Sulia hadn’t heard of anything contentious occurring around Aloralla. Now, that could just mean that she was a patient schemer, but Sulia didn’t get that impression from her.

If she weren’t a good person, then she was sure that Joram wouldn’t want anything to do with her, as was evident by him staying away from other family members.

Then she turned to little Xiora, watching her softly snore as she slept. Her hair was darker than Joram’s, a heliotrope bordering on indigo. Though she did spot a dark green lock of hair above her right eye. It was a cute colouration, giving the impression of a green stem holding up a mass of purple flowers.

Could little Xiora be the one to help keep Joram from becoming a little silk-pants?

Or would it be little Lysanthir? They were all so close in age, so it was an almost surety that they’d grow up to be friends. Hopefully good friends that would support one another.

But.

She knew how young men got around and wondered how she could keep him honest.

Maybe arranging a fiancé would help? Would the knowledge that he needed to “save” himself for his future wife keep him from becoming a wandering bee, going from flower to flower?

She looked over at Aloralla again and watched the young woman (gah!, they were the same age!) knit. Joram already had a good relationship with her, so would that translate well to her becoming his mother-in-law?

Hmm…

* * *

- Week 72 -

He must have missed something along the way.

He was at yet another gathering of the clan, dressed up in fancy robes with yet another jade circlet on his brow holding back his hair that was slowly darkening. More indigo was creeping in, and he was very glad of that. Not that he had anything against pastels in general, but he really liked the darker purples and eggplants that the older generations had.

He looked over at his partner for this gathering and smiled. Xiora had lovely purple hair and even had a lock of her mother’s green hair sprouting from her bangs above her right eye. Though, he really hoped that they’d let her hair grow out, as bangs were just so… 80s.

That said, she was adorable in her purple-trimmed white robes, a jade comb holding most of her hair at the back of her head.

Seeing her sitting so nicely, trying so hard to listen to her parents as they encouraged her to sit still, Joram came to a decision.

‘You’re doing good, Xixi,’ he sent with a warm smile.

Xiora blinked and looked over at him and smiled, but didn’t say anything for fear of being scolded by her parents. She also brought a finger up to her lips, miming that he should also be quiet.

‘Don’t worry, they can’t hear us like this,’ he sent back while looking her straight in the eye.

Said eyes grew as large as could be as she clued in that he hadn’t been speaking out loud.

It as his turn to hold a finger up to his lips, not hiding his smile from her as her mouth slowly fell open in shock.

‘If you think about me hearing your words you can talk like this, too, with me,’ he sent again, this time tapping his head with his index finger.

His mother took said hand in hers and lowered it to his side, her other hand adjusting his circlet.

He rolled his eyes at that, but kept his eyes on Xiora. He gave her an encouraging smile and looked forwards again, this time keeping an eye out for the bane of his existence.

After a few minutes of excitement, frustration, and determination coming through her link to his network, she finally succeeded.

‘How?’ She sent, but mostly coming through as a jumble of emotions associated with the word.

‘Because I like you,’ he sent with a big mental smile, and a big smile on his actual face.

He watched as it sank in, then watched at a wonderful smile blossomed on her face.

“Everyone, thank you for gathering with us today to celebrate this special occasion,” Grammy said, interrupting their moment. “I am sure some of you know why we’ve gathered, but I will announce it anyways.” She said as she walked over to stand between Joram and Xiora, then took his right hand and Xiora’s left hand in hers.

“I hereby announce that Joram Aneath and Xiora Aneath are to be married when they come of age.”

Everyone clapped and cheered, exclaiming about how it was such a perfect union, and how they made such a cute couple as they were already inseparable.

Joram’s mouth fell open as he stared at his grammy. He couldn’t see Xixi to gauge her expression, but what he got from their link was a vague surprise, happiness, but mostly confusion. For her part, his mother stood there with his father, beaming.

He looked over to Xixi’s parents and saw how happy they looked.

He looked up at Grammy and saw that her usual cool look had been replaced by… a cool look with the barest of smiles present.

‘Congratulations,’ Avi sent, amusement thick in the sending.

‘What-the-what!?’ He sent right back. ‘How is it OK to have an arranged marriage already?!’

‘Joram, arranged marriages can be made decades before the children are even born,’ she explained patiently. ‘This is obviously something that came up more recently; likely due to the “astonishing” talent both you and Xiora have shown.’

‘But we’re cousins!’

‘Joram,’ Avi began. ‘How much have you forgotten?’

‘What are you talking about?’ He sent back impatiently.

‘Even in your old world, there were many places where it was legal to marry your first cousin,’ she explained. ‘By the time you reach third cousin status, you aren’t even considered related anymore. Now, consider this world that has no real grasp of genetics.’

‘Uh-huh…’

‘For them, marrying a first cousin is more-or-less normal,’ she assured him. ‘You don’t even share any chromosomes, who what’s the issue?’

He paused, trying very hard to focus. It seemed harder to fully concentrate these days. At the same time, it also felt easier in some respects.

But focus! He chided himself.

What was the issue here? Genetically, it was fine. Socially, it was fine. Morally?

What set of morals was he to adhere to in this world? The morals of this world were mostly different from those of his old world. “Might makes right”, and “Law of the Jungle: the strongest rules” and such were the foundations of this world’s morality.

Yes, they had many laws, customs, and traditions that smoothed things out so that society could exist in the first place, but the core philosophy was still there.

He couldn’t quite remember what the term was called, but he thought it might have been “grooming”. Raising someone to marry another, usually an older person.

But did that apply here?

Yes, his mental age was actually older than his parents, but his physical body was virtually the same age as Xixi’s. Had he guided her in any was towards this future?

No.

But could he think of someone so young as being his future wife, even with their physical ages being the same?

Did he love Xixi? Indeed. But it wasn’t a romantic kind of love, but one of pure affection towards another person who was close to you. Someone who you’d been around all your life (well, this one). Heck, he was even her nursing buddy! They had shared the same breastmilk!

Was she more of a sister to him?

These many thoughts tumbled around his mind like a hurricane whipping around wind.

* * *

Sulia noticed that Joram had gone quiet, then pale.

How much of his previous life did he truly remember? Was the engagement not welcome? Had she fumbled this?

A warm hand grabbed hers and squeezed it tightly. She looked over and smiled at her husband and realized that he, too, had seen Joram’s expression and understood what she was thinking.

For that matter, so had her grandmother.

She had picked Joram up in one arm, and then had Aloralla hand Xiora over to her other arm. Both children were now cuddled tightly by Tatia, but also being squished together as she held them in front of her instead of to either side, on her hips.

Xiora was smiling beautifully while Joram smiled and nodded to people who approached to congratulate the toddler. Several of his cousins also came over, some almost as young as he, others older than her. The older ones were no doubt curious about this early engagement. Others… Well, others were probably already plotting to get close and see how they could get closer to the two, seeing potential for political gain.

What Joram’s smile couldn’t hide from her was that he was troubled by the announcement. The way he laughed. How he looked at Tatia. Even how he had subtly shifted in her arms to not be squished as tightly against Xiora.

It all spoke volumes to Sulia. And threw in doubt her reincarnator theory.

For if he was indeed a reincarnator, then this should have been normal for him as arranged marriages had been going on since time immemorial.

Or was it that Joram more thought of Xiora as a sister figure? They had, after all, been nursed by the same person and had spent most of their time together. Was that it?

She sighed when she felt Ivaryn once again squeeze her hand, bringing her back to the world outside of her head.

Either way she was sure that as they grew up, they’d get closer to each other, and love would blossom.

* * *

What are my parents thinking?! Joram silently raged as he was approached by the 141st well-wisher.

Sure, this was a very… traditional world, and they seemed to love breeding talent with talent. Had he stood out too much?

Well, that was a stupid question. Of course, he had. Otherwise, he’d not be in this situation. He should have just taken his time, enjoyed being a child again. No, he’d been too impatient, wanting to get a head start on, well, everything.

Had his ridiculous thoughts of being an isekai’d reincarnator pushed him along too much? Assuredly. His thoughts of being able to start cultivating and learning magic early had prompted his impatience. He didn’t exactly know why his family had arranged a fiancé for him at such a young age, but he placed the blame on himself. Stand out too much, and things happen.

Not always what you expected.

Yes, he’d need to reign himself in. Stop acting like he knew everything, stop being so impulsive. He’d need to make sure that Xixi didn’t spill the beans about their ability to communicate telepathically, or anything else, really.

But now he’d need to get everyone to think that he was somehow… ordinary.

Ha!

Well, maybe he could read-up on accidents while cultivating and pretend to have one; one that would “delay” him for a decade or so… That way, maybe they’d rethink the engagement.

Hmm…

‘Happy!’ Xixi sent him, jarring him out of his thoughts.

‘Oh? Why is that?’ He sent back, dreading the answer.

‘Because mommy said that we will be together forever!’

There was so much pure joy and sunshine and bright glittery feeling sent with that that he almost dropped their connection right then. He didn’t know how to process that; what or how to feel about it.

Xiora had become one of his best friends. Having spent so much time with her, playing, napping, and eating together. He loved her dearly. Loved her like a best friend.

Did this society care about that, though? Arranged marriages weren’t well known for the couple being in love before they got married, even after. Yes, there were many who developed an abiding love after the fact. But what about those that didn’t? Would he be in a marriage where he didn’t have a profound, romantic, love for his wife?

Would he and Xiora go through their lives just as “husband and wife”, not as soulmates?

Joram was a firm believer in personal agency. Moral agency.

He was also a romantic at heart. An idealist. Though, that had been tempered by age, he still had those roots.

So, what would it mean for him to marry someone not of his choosing? Would he passive-aggressively go through his marriage? Would he grow to resent his parents and even his Grammy for forcing this upon them?

Or would he, as people said, grow to love his designated spouse? Would they wind up having a fantastic marriage and life together?

He really didn’t know, nor did he want to think about it right then.

His introverted core was about to go into meltdown.

-

- Week 77 –

‘Joram.’

‘Yes, Avi.”

‘Even though I am happy that you’re spending more time with me, why are you here?’

Joram stopped reading the latest cultivation manual in their growing collection and looked over at Holo-Avi.

‘I’m studying,’ he sent in a deadpan tone.

‘That is obvious,’ she replied. ‘But why are you spending so much time here? You aren’t avoiding Xiora, are you?’

‘I would never do such a thing!’

‘Then you’re avoiding your family?’

He would never admit that she was spot on with that one. It had been over a month since the announcement, and his subsequent meltdown. It wasn’t something that he was proud of. The opposite, in fact.

Hence his avoiding his family whenever he could by taking “longer naps”. And more of them.

He was very put-out by his inability to keep it together with his family. He was sure that it was a combination of his introverted nature being infringed upon and his young body. Both had contributed to his meltdown.

It was, quite frankly, embarrassing. He didn’t have “the face” to, well, face his family more than he had had to over the past while.

Gran was still coming by every day, still teaching what she could in their short time together. That would have been fine by itself but since the incident, she had incorporated meditation sessions into it. She’d go on and on about a still mind, a still heart, and a still soul. Having the three in balance kept the person in balance, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

It hadn’t been bad the first day, or even the first week. By the end of the second week, he was ready to kick her over the edge of the gardens and down the mountainside.

Grammy. Grammy had just given him more cuddles and reassured him that all would be well and continued to teach him about herbology and even some basic pill refining theory. It wasn’t much, just “add this and that to get x, y, or z”, depending on how they’re mixed and their ratios. Those were the nice times.

His mother, however, seemed to have panicked slightly but tried to follow Grammy’s example in not bringing it up like aunt Aloralla did almost every time he went to the nursery to spend time with Xixi, Zanth, and the other children.

He was glad that the ring of sustenance was still going strong, as he’d gone on a boob-strike when mealtime came around. It was to show that he wasn’t happy with his mother or Aloralla. It had worked somewhat, as they’d gotten increasingly distressed at his unwillingness to suckle from either of them.

Sure, he was on a supplement of solid foods but even Midwife Ulanan was perturbed that he’d stopped breast feeding so suddenly. There was talk of how it might affect his growth and future achievements if his body didn’t get the proper nutrients early in life.

The only person who connected his boob-strike to his engagement was his mother. She tried the best she could to convince him that all would be well, that the engagement was perfectly normal and that he and Xiora would get along famously. She tried coaxing and punishing. She tried withholding his solid meals to get him hungry enough to once again breastfeed, but it was all for naught.

That said, he did miss the connection time with his mother an Aloralla. It hurt him somewhat to think that this time of profound connection to his mother would soon end, even if he started suckling again. He had heard the members of the clan talking about how his parents, and even his grandparents, would be heading out on assignments again when he turned two.

One could say that his time was limited.

He sat down, thinking hard.

Was this another immature reaction? Was he once again acting on impulse, hurting himself and others rather than actually doing something productive? He had a long history of being unreasonably stubborn and didn’t want that trend to continue in this new life of his. It had, quite simply, been a detriment in his old life. What was the point of sticking to an argument if the only results were harmful ones?

He was hurting his mother, Aloralla, and even Xixi. He’d seen Xixi watching him, taking note of his refusal to breastfeed and had even started being fussy with her mealtimes. He had his ring of sustenance, but she had to rely on the food provided to her for her growth. Was he being a bad example for her?

Yes, yes he was.

*Deep breath*

Was there a better way to show that he wasn’t happy with being thrown into an engagement not of his choosing? Certainly. Passive-aggressive had to go. Time to put on his grownup pants.

So, he stood up, straightened his shirt and pants, then made his way over to his mother who was conversing softly with Aloralla and Selussa. His mother looked over at his approach but continued speaking until he stopped in front of her.

His approach hadn’t been missed by Xixi nor Zanth, the latter trying to get a bear stuffy from Xixi but failing miserably as he was both younger and smaller than her.

He waited a moment as Selussa got up to calm the irate Zanth, then started.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking his mother in the eye.

She blinked once, then regarded him seriously for a minute. Then another.

He was about to start fidgeting when she finally spoke.

“So am I,” she began. “Would you like to talk about it?” She leaned forward until her elbows were pressed against her knees, tempting him with sweet, sweet, lunch.

No! I will not be bought off with food!

He nodded, then took her hand in his and pulled her towards the door, wanting to have a more private setting for their Talk.

After a few quick goodbyes, they made their way to their family rooms and made themselves comfortable around a small table set with in-season fruit. It was a bit extravagant, but fresh fruit was definitely welcome.

It was hard to concentrate on what he wanted to say with Xixi asking him every few seconds to come back to play, so he sent a quick “I’ll be back” then put her on mute.

At last, he mustered up his nerve and began.

* * *

Sulia wondered what exactly Joram was sorry about and what exactly he wanted to say to her. He was distracted the whole way back to their rooms, not even saying “hi” to anyone that passed by like he usually did.

It took him a few minutes after they’d sat down to start, but what he had to say surprised her.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” He said, tilting his head up to look her in the eye.

“About the engagement?”

He nodded, so she continued.

“Let me ask you something,” she said. “What about the engagement disturbs you so?”

He paused, furrowing his little brow, before responding.

“Xixi is like a sister to me,” he finally said.

Sulia nodded at that, having expected the answer. “But she isn’t,” she replied. “You both have many years before you’re expected to marry. You’ll have plenty of time to develop your relationship further.”

Joram paused again, probably because she’d already said as much to him, and he wanted to say something more meaningful than “no!”.

“But why didn’t you ask me?” He asked, returning to his original point.

“Because we’re your parents. Parents decide many things for their children.”

Another pause, then, “But you married who you wanted.”

That gave her pause. Both because she’d never spoken to him about that, and because she felt that thread of stubbornness making its way through their bond.

Children remembered all sorts of things that people didn’t expect them to. But who might have spilled the beans on that one? Their family wasn’t the type that would just speak about anything at all, at any time. Or were they?

Had Joram been exposed to the gossips of the clan after the announcement of his engagement? Had some busybody spoken poison into her son’s ear, causing this confrontation?

No. Well, probably not. She had noticed his reaction to the announcement after all.

Then she came to a decision and went out on a limb.

“Is this not how things are done from where you come from?” She asked, casual as could be.

Joram nodded, then stopped, eyes going round and face paling.

She knew an “oh, shit!” look when she saw it.