‘I’m sure that it isn’t all that great,’ he sent, a bit of a grumble in his tone.

Tillia glanced over at him with a frown. ‘It’s good enough that most families in the clan would probably commission its like for their own children. You know, toys and such,’ she sent, a bit of confusion evident in her tone.

‘Seriously?’

‘My father is a woodworker, and this falls into that category.’

‘Your father’s a woodworker?’

‘I never mentioned?’ She sent, surprise written all over her face.

‘No, you’ve hardly ever mentioned your family to me.’

‘Huh. Well, my father is a woodworker, and my mother is a fashion designer and seamstress. I’m the oldest of six.’

Joram stared at her for a moment, a bit shocked. Most families in the clan had about two or three children. Some went to four. But six was quite the outlier here. Was it more normal for people outside the clan to have larger families?

‘I think that I’ll get along with your parents quite well,’ he sent with a smile. Sure, he was no fashion designer, but he could whip together fabric and an outfit with the best of them! Nevermind carving!

Tillia blushed then looked away quickly before answering.

‘Yes, I think so too.’

Joram waited a moment, then went back to the original subject. ‘So, is this present no good for today?’

‘Ah, no, it should be fine. I’m sure little Xiora will love it,’ she sent, regaining her composure as she “spoke”.

With a nod, Joram repacked the statuette and stored it away. He hopped down from his chair, then grabbed her hand, pulling Tillia to her feet and dragged her down the hall.

They soon arrived at Xiora’s place. When they entered, a servant leading them in, he took note that a few other servants were hanging about. That, in and of itself, wasn’t something that would catch his attention, but it was the fact that they wore livery of different families that piqued his interest.

Of note, Zanth’s family was represented. Sure, that shouldn’t have surprised him given that the three of them were growing up and playing together since they were basically the same age. Though, he thought, it had been a while since he’d had a play date with Xixi and Zanth.

Most of the others were also from families on the periphery of the clan, those that would be third, fourth, and even fifth cousins. It wasn’t a milestone birthday, but he was surprised to note just how many people had come to attend Xixi’s birthday. So much so that he got a bad vibe from it.

Which made him think. What, exactly, was it that gave him a bad feeling? Was it the fact that since his fourth birthday party, where it was revealed that he was a “cripple”, that people had started treating him differently than before? Heck, some people were downright cold to him where they’d previously been almost fawning. It hadn’t gotten to the point where he was outright ostracised, or even picked on. But the difference was so obvious that anyone could pick up on it.

For example, once he and Tillia got out of “earshot”, the servants behind them began to whisper to each other, shooting glances his way. If the servants were gossiping, it usually meant that the family they served had been saying things behind closed doors.

Ah, the human condition. Gossip seems to be genetically encoded into humans, he thought as he shook his head.

Then they entered the small gathering hall where everyone stood chatting with the people around them. He counted no less than forty attendees, though most here had only sent one parent to accompany their child, most of which were boys.

And the bad vibe grew…

Joram tried to shrug it off as they made their way to where Xixi was chatting with the newcomers with her parents. It was a short line, but the conversations between parents were very full of meaning. Well, hints, and suggestions that Xixi spend more time with their child so that they could get to know each other better, if you know what I mean. *Wink-wink*

He nearly kicked those people out of line… but held his temper. With them being effectively from branch families, their individual cultivation levels weren’t impressive, the highest merely being late 3rd Tier, and appearing much older than his own parents. No, it was the fact that it was “rude” for a junior to kick the crap out of a “senior” that stopped him… and that it was Xixi’s birthday party. He didn’t want to upset her.

For her part, Xixi smiled and chatted with everyone that came to her, her personality being on the friendlier side of things. Sure, she wasn’t a typical B-Type, or “Popular Sanguin”, but neither was she an introvert. She was the kind of calm girl that enjoyed time alone, but was also at home in social events. Much better socialized than he was…

That said, every boy that she was introduced to tried to impress her in some way; from bragging to sharing how far along in their cultivation they were. Which was a bit of a mistake, as Joram knew that Xixi was much farther ahead of them in cultivation. For her part, she treated every boy like the last: politely. She didn’t seem to really “click” with any of them, which pleased Joram more than he’d care to admit.

Yes, he’d been weirded out when his mother had first announced his engagement to Xixi back at his second birthday party, but he’d also had a few years to let it sink in, to mull it over, and over, and over again. He’d spent less time with Xixi over the following years, probably in a subconscious attempt to keep from influencing Xixi in her own decision regarding their engagement.

Yet she still acted like she always had when they met. The enthusiastic greetings, the tackle-hugs, even how she would hang on his every word when they spoke. She enjoyed holding his hand when they would walk somewhere, and would insist on sitting next to him.

He wasn’t sure if that stemmed from their time together as they grew up, even nursing together. But from what he knew of “grooming” someone, the act of raising someone to be their future spouse, he was pretty sure that he’d more than kept away from that. He’d never brought up their engagement, nor had he done or said anything beyond normal playing as kids. Well, he’d spoken to her about cultivation and had given her some tips, that what was completely different, akin to helping someone with their homework.

Then he began to notice that each person who left the line with their child would soon notice him as they scoped out the “competition”, then frown slightly. Some went so far as to have a look of scorn or disgust on their faces, but quickly hid it away when Tillia looked at them, then hurried off to speak with someone else.

For their part, the children- ages ranging from a bit younger than him to as old as their early teens- had varied reactions when seeing him in line. The younger ones didn’t seem to know who he was, and thus treated them like anyone else. However, the older ones weren’t as socially adroit as their parents. There were reactions that ranged from cool indifference to outright hostility. He had no idea why they’d be hostile, save for the fact that maybe their parents had influenced their perception of him.

Well, any of them who were trying to pair up their child to Xixi were undoubtedly gold-digger and would thus receive no mercy from him, nor would their idiotic children.

Well, maybe that last bit was unkind, as this society’s norms were for the children to unerringly listen to what their parents told them to do. That said, he was a bit of a “free-thinker”, so he expected people to use the brains they’d been born with instead of just “going with the flow” …

Gah, I really don’t like the “might makes right” mentality of this world, he thought with a slight frown. Sure, the Clear Knowledge Clan was far from normal compared to what the rest of the world was like, as they tended to treat others based on academic accomplishments over those of cultivation. But, the fundamental mentality of magical strength being equated to superiority was hard to stamp out, especially with clan members bringing back spouses from the outside world to keep new blood flowing in the clan, preventing stagnation and other less pleasant genetic issues.

Well, he’d just have to keep studying so that he’d get his certifications much faster than his “peers”. He’d also have to figure out a solution to his cultivation quandary so that people would shut up…

Am I grumpy today? He thought as yet another parent-son duo stepped away so that another pair could present Xixi with their well-wishes and gift.

Yup, totally grumpy.

He heaved a mental sigh and checked up on M2 and Avi.

They were “chilling” in his realm with M3. Sure, they were lounging about, but they were still each working on a project of their own. Well, Avi was doing her own thing, but M2 and M3 were both working on separate issues with the scanner, typing away at their own laptops.

Ah, how amazing will games look on those things? He mused, thinking about their upgraded tech. Those computers were on par with what would be found in the Mass Effect universe, with modifications from the Star Wars universe. He’d really have to thank Altaea, when he found her, for leaving Avi with all of those schematics, manuals, and such before leaving.

Did her leaving have anything to do with her finally gaining the shared memories of her other selves? Had it revealed a way for her to finally be able to return to Golarion? Or had she found another one of her selves? From what he knew, as each Altaea gained strength, they’d be “drawn” to each other, eventually merging back into one being. He imagined that being split into almost two dozen separate beings then scattered across the multiverse wasn’t something most people would want, or survive.

Joram then wondered what other surprises Altaea had left with Avi before taking off? Or had she left other things for him to discover as he wandered this world? Given that she had left the Heavenly Archive behind, and those manuals, he was pretty sure that she had, but was also equally unsure how to go about finding them.

Now, if he was some protagonist in a wuxia novel, he’d just stumble upon opportunity after opportunity, eventually leading to him becoming the ultimate existence on the planet.

Welp, things are never so convenient in real life, he though, conveniently forgetting about the Heavenly Archive, mostly due to his theory that Altaea had somehow arranged for him to be born into this family.

He was then brought out of his musings as the people in front of him stepped away, revealing Xixi in all her beaming glory at the sight of him.

“Happy birthday, Xixi,” he said with a smile as he stepped forward, finding that his mood had managed to improve greatly.

“Thank you, Joram,” she said, pronouncing his name much better than she had in the past, smiling the whole time.

Tillia gave her greetings to Aloralla and Ailmar as he spoke with Xixi, congratulating them on having such a wonderful child. As they spoke, Joram again noticed aunt Aloralla absently touching her belly from time to time.

Yup.

Through [Touchsight], he also noticed not a few people frown when they saw Xixi smiling with much warmth at him.

“Here, I made this for you,” he said, presenting her with the giftbox.

Xixi’s eyes went wide in delight, but soon tempered her reaction to what was expected by her parents.

“Thank you, Joram,” she said with such warmth that he blushed slightly. “I’ll be sure to open it with you later.”

Joram nodded as that, managing to smile around his embarrassment. He then stepped forward a bit to give her a light hug, receiving a not-so-light one in return, which caused his heart to grow three times as large.

He then stepped over to aunt Aloralla and uncle Ailmar and gave his greetings with a slight bow, receiving slightly deeper bows in return.

Then, on a whim, he stepped forward and placed his hand on aunt Aloralla’s belly, causing not a few eyes to widen, not just Auntie’s, and quickly used [Delve]. Sure enough, there was a fetus in there. Then he paused, eyes going wide.

“I’m happy for you,” he said to his aunt and uncle, whose eyes widened slightly at his words.

“Such a mischievous one,’ aunt Aloralla said, ruffling his hair.

He assumed that it was to throw off those watching and listening from her unannounced pregnancy, so he played along by laughing and taking off towards the snack table.

Tillia stayed behind for a moment to apologise for his behaviour, then hurried after him.

‘What was that about?’ She asked, evidently scandalized with his actions.

‘Aunty is pregnant,’ he sent back with a smile. ‘I thought so when I saw her last, but now I’m sure.’

Not only Tillia, but Avi popped up in her “invisible” form, the one he could only see. Both women looked at Aloralla, head tilted to the side.

‘Another one to teach?’ Avi asked, looking from Joram to Aloralla and back again.

‘Are you sure? She doesn’t look any different to me,’ she sent, but didn’t sound very doubtful, just unsure.

‘I just [Delve]d her,’ he sent to them both. ‘So, yes, I’m sure.’

With that conversation done, at least in his mind, he went about raiding the scrumptious spread, cherry-picking his favourites before finding an empty table where he could more easily consume his bounty. Tillia hurried and grabbed a few things, then followed him to the table. It was, fortunately or unfortunately, one of the furthest tables in the room from where the head table was, all others having already been claimed by those who’d come earlier than they had.

It was nice to have a bit of quiet but he knew that it wouldn’t last, and sure enough, as he was finishing his first plate, the first of the would-be suiters for Xixi showed up.

“Oh, isn’t this the Matriarch’s favourite great-grandson?” Mook #1 asked, nudging a couple friends. “Aren’t you Xiora’s fiancé? Why aren’t you sitting closer?”

Joram glanced at him, sure to actually turn his head instead of just taking note of the kid in his sphere. What his eyes told him did not differ in any way than his sphere… except the colour. Anyways, the kid was probably about nine years old and somehow seemed to fit almost every stereotypical category one could attribute to a young silk-pants. An entitled little shit, to put it another way. And now he was there to try and embarrass him at Xixi’s party.

Idiot.

“Then I’d have to sit closer to you,” Joram replied with a shrug, then looked back to his plate. Sure enough, he’d cleared it of its bounty.

“Tillia, could you get me a refill please?” He asked, looking to her with big, innocent, eyes.

Tillia’s eyes narrowed for a moment while Mook #1 processed Joram’s insult, but then stood up and went to the buffet table for him.

“Who do you think you are to speak to me like that?!” Mook #1 demanded, face turning red as his Lackeys got all puffed up, trying to look intimidating.

Now, for someone who might have actually been five years old, that might have been an intimidating sight. But for Joram, well, it was much harder for him to keep from laughing than anything else.

“Well, I’m not sure what to say here. You’ve already identified me, so there’s no use saying who I am again,” he said, raising his palms with his fingers pointed outwards as he shrugged.

This was obviously not what the kid wanted to hear and thus made him even angrier.

“You don’t belong here, cripple! Go home and wait for your parents to get back. Maybe you’ll get a little sister who’ll be able to take care of you!”

Mook #1 delivered those lines while pointing a finger at him, much too close to his face for the kid’s safety. Joram had more than a slight aversion to having people sticking their fingers in his face, so he was almost triggered by it, but M3 was on the ball and snapped him out of it before Joram could [Decerebrate] the little snot.

“Hmmm, so says a kid who probably can’t even read a book,” he said as he shook his head, putting on a saddened expression. He was trying to remind the kid that academics were held in higher esteem in the clan than cultivation, but it didn’t seem to get through to him.

“Ha! What can you even read? You’re only five!” Mook #1 asked, laughing away, his Lackeys following suit.

“What, did you miss my first birthday party?” Joram asked, but didn’t really expect the kid to remember something from four years ago.

“Who’d remember something four years ago?” Lackey #1 scoffed.

Incidentally, each one was named thusly due to their verbal participation in the confrontation. Mook #1 because he was the ringleader. Lackey #1 because he was the first of the lackeys to speak. Yeah, he had an awesome naming sense…

At any rate, these kids weren’t even worth having M3 pay enough attention to, to memorize their names. So, they all got tagged with those new nicknames.

“I gather everything is going well here?” Tillia asked as she returned with a filled place in hand.

“Oh, look, he needs his Nanny to help him,” Lackey #2 piped in.

Joram noticed Tillia’s eyebrow begin to twitch at that comment, so he stepped in.

“I guess they’re all lacking in brains as well as manners,” he said, looking up to Tillia. “Thank you for getting that for me.”

“You’re welcome, Joram,” she said with a smile. “If you need me to take out the trash, I’d be more than happy to do so,” she said, now looking at Mook #1 and Lackeys. Incidentally, there were only three lackeys, so the final one was now tagged with “Lackey #3”.

“Do you know who I am?” Mook #1 asked indignantly. “No servant is allowed to speak to me that way!” He said all that, trying to stand up taller as he leaned forwards in a classic intimidation move. Now, if he’d been another nine years older, he might have had a greater effect. As it was, he only came up to chest height on Tillia, his head not much larger than one of her breasts.

Yes, that thought actually went through Joram’s mind as he tried not to laugh. The pipsqueak just didn’t know how far into the deep end he’d jumped.

“Oh, really?” Tillia asked, oh so sweetly, a dangerous smile on her lips.

“Yes, you’d better know your place, or I’ll have my servants expel you from the building!”

How does every entitled brat think that they’re the Alpha and Omega? He thought, shaking his head.

“Tillia?”

“Yes, Joram?”

“Please take out the trash,” he said, a weary sigh escaping his lips.

Ah, now he wished that he was better with words. Not for calling the kid trash, but to describe the shade of red the kid turned, and also just how furious/indignant/offended/disbelieving he was.

Indeed, a picture is worth a thousand words, he sighed, then had M2 memorize the scene so that one day he could use the scene in a webcomic or something… When he eventually returned to his world… or something.

Joram ignored the squawking of the kids being booted out of the party until the parents decided to get involved as well.

‘Grammy?’

‘Yes, Joram?’

‘Does anyone outside of the direct lineage, or Elders and such, have an Authority Token higher than rank three?’

‘What’s going on?’

Damn, she’s on point, he thought with a rueful grin.

‘Just getting rid of some trash, but their parents seem to disagree.”

‘Please explain,’ Grammy sent, exasperation clear in her tone.

He did so.

‘And you couldn’t just let it go?’

‘Nah, they were embarrassing the in-laws,’ he sent cheekily.

The pause following his last statement was so long that he began to worry that the “adults” trying to interfere with Tillia’s removal of the trash would actually manage to stop her, but then Grammy spoke up again.

‘You’re token should be sufficient to deal with anyone there,’ she sent in a resigned tone. ‘If they still argue the point, then find a way to deal with it that doesn’t involve fatalities.’

Joram quickly sent his thanks, then hopped off his chair to join the small crowd around Tillia. She was doing remarkably well given that she was dealing with Tier 2 mages who were flexing their auras in an effort to intimidate her.

If he could have projected his Tier 3 aura… well, he probably wouldn’t have as that would have revealed his hand too soon. Bah, he very much disliked being low-key in situations like this.

“You have not right to remove my son,” one man was saying as he tried to loom over Tillia, but wasn’t very successful due to Tillia being the same height as him. From where Mook #1 was standing, it was probably his dad. So, Dad’O’Mook #1 it would be.

“She has every right to do so,” Joram said as he stopped beside Tillia. “Please show them, Tillia,” he said, also sending along a quick telepathic message letting her know that he meant the Authority Token she’d received from the Matriarch.

Tillia smiled one of those “I’m being nice right now, but if you pull anything else I’ll flay you alive” smiles at Dad’O’Mook #1 as she presented her Authority Token.

The man stared at it dumbly for a moment before it clicked, then he recoiled, nose going higher as he tilted his head back.

“I don’t know where you picked that up, child, but you shouldn’t try to use something that doesn’t belong to you,” he said haughtily, obviously trying to dismiss the token.

“And what, pray tell, is the punishment for failing to heed the order of someone holding an authority token?” Joram piped in, his smile as innocuous as he could make it.

“Not nearly as severe as someone using what isn’t theirs, boy.”

If that man’s nose went any further into the air, he’d likely fall over backwards. Joram was impressed that he managed to stay upright. It must have taken a lot of practice in a mirror to get that look down pat.

He took a moment to remind himself that Grammy wouldn’t be happy with any fatalities… Not that he was likely to kill someone, but the temptation to selectively remove a section of his brain stem was probably the most tempted he’d ever been to use that particular power.

Well, if he ever saw that Old Fart in the future, he’d likely not give it a second thought, mainly because it was safer to just remove the threat than play with fire. Also, payback. Yup. He wasn’t above a bit of payback.

With a sigh, he retrieved his own Authority Token from the ring his parents had given him and held it up for all to see. He was then gratified when Dad’O’Mook #1’s face fell in shock once his brain caught up to what his eyes were seeing.

“Are you saying that I, also, have something that doesn’t belong to me?” He asked quietly while keeping the smile away from not only his face, but also his voice.

The crowd went quiet as they, too, saw the purple plaque. Then came Xixi, and the other boot dropped.

“Joram, what’s wrong? Why are you holding Grammy’s gift?” She asked from his side, innocent as could be.

Now, it wasn’t just Xixi who’d come over to see what the fuss was about, but also Aunt Aloralla and Uncle Ailmar.

“What’s going on, Toross?” Aloralla asked as she stepped up beside Xixi, not looking very pleased, but socially adept enough to not immediately begin kicking in heads.

“These two are trying to claim authority of the clan, using it to bully my son,” “Toross” said, doing quite a good job a cementing the image of being a stereotypical idiot in Joram’s head as he tried to bluff and bluster his way out of this.

Aunty looked down at the token he still held in hand, though now dangling at his side, sighed, then looked back to “Toross”. “I’m afraid that, at the very least, Joram’s Token is quite authentic; we were there when the Matriarch presented it to him on his birthday last year.”

The sound of indrawn breath was like a wind going through the hall. Eyes widened, jaws slackened, and one person actually fainted. Joram mentally dropped the capability of that person in his head, but then refocussed on what was happening right then.

One, “Toross’s” face drained of all colour while his expression was a sight to behold. Incredulity, disbelief, anger, a dab of resentment bordering on hatred, and finally a dash of regret made quite the tapestry.

Two, Mook #1 looked like he’d eaten something significantly more sour than a lemon, as actual pain crept into his expression as he stood by his father.

Huh, maybe he’s not quite a lost cause, Joram mused as “Toross” finally managed to get his throat to work.

“My apologies,” he said, his expression putting the lie to his words. “We shall withdraw and hope that our words won’t be taken too seriously.”

With that said, he grabbed Mook #1’s hand and strode out of the room. A few others looked nervous, especially the parents of Lakeys 1-3, but no others left. Which, quite frankly, surprised Joram, as he thought that they’d be a tighter knit group than what they currently seemed to be.

“Sorry about that Xixi,” Joram said as he turned and gave a slight bow to her. “How about we all go and have a snack! I think I’ve still got some treats in my ring.”

Xixi’s eyes went wide with delight, quickly forgetting the encounter in favour of Earth’s most dangerous product: Chocolate.