*1343.13.14*

As time tends to do, it passed like the water in a great river. Sometimes turbulent, but mostly calm, but always going forward. It was once again Joram’s birthday, this time his sixth. It wasn’t one of the auspicious birthdays, not being a power of two. Why was it like that? Tillia didn’t know; it had always just been like that.

She sat at the same table they’d used for all of Joram’s non-auspicious birthdays along with the Matriarch, Aloralla, Ailmar, Xixi, and the twins, Seldana and Elodea. They were comfortably asleep at the moment; one being held by each parent. Selussa and Vulen were also in attendance with Zanth, or Lysanthir. It seemed as though the baby bug- baby fever?- had hit, as Selussa was just barely showing in her fall dress.

The conversation was… not quite muted, but wasn’t exactly lively. Xixi and Zanth were playing a game of sticks, showing great levels of hand-eye coordination as they nimbly pulled stick after stick out of the pile. Tillia could feel that they were both about ready to break through to the 2nd Tier, which amazed her to no end.

It wasn’t a surprise with Xixi, mostly because after that night of crying they’d spent together, they’d become closer friends, spending more and more time together as they bonded over their loneliness that was slowly turning into grief the longer they spent without word regarding Joram.

Tillia wasn’t very sure why the Matriarch had called them together to celebrate Joram’s birthday. It seemed a bit… morbid to her. Yet she couldn’t help feeling gratitude towards the Matriarch for keeping the flame of hope lit. It was getting harder and harder for her to keep her own hope alive.

It could have been because she was so much younger than the Matriarch, who’d spent much longer waiting for various things than the rest of the room combined. Age and wisdom. Whatever the reason, it was good to gather like this.

She idly played with the brown topaz necklace the Matriarch had given her just a couple months ago. It was one of the most beautiful gems she’d ever seen, not to mention the most expensive one she’d ever owned. She also noticed that Xixi kept the statuette Joram had carved for her close by. Even Zanth had the wooden sword Joram had made him strapped to his back like he was an old merc waiting for his next job, always ready to go.

She smiled as the servants brought in the light meal, noting all of Joram’s favourites with a bittersweet ache in her heart. It was getting easier to deal with his absence, but some things still managed to twang her heart when she saw them.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate today with me,” the Matriarch said, catching everyone’s attention. “It has been a difficult year for all of us, but I would like to share that I believe it will soon get better,” she said with a mysterious smile.

“In what way, Matriarch?” Aloralla asked as she shifted Elodea in her arms.

“I don’t mention this to take away from today’s celebration, but only to give context,” she said, then paused. “I have been studying the Law of Space and have recently had a breakthrough in my understanding.”

Everyone blinked at her before giving quiet congratulations. They were, nevertheless, still a bit confused as to where this was headed.

“With that said, there are a few things that I would like to share about Joram,” she said, giving each one of the adults in the room a Look. “I trust that what is said here will stay between us here,” she said in such a way that everyone gulped before nodding.

“Everyone here knows that Joram had amazing achievements in his cultivation before he suffered a minor setback,” she said, then continued when everyone nodded. “What you don’t know is that Joram had also achieved great success in the field of Mental Strength.”

Jaws dropped at that statement. Aloralla and Ailmar looked shocked, but not quite as shocked at Selussa and Vulen. The kids, however, just shrugged and kept playing their game.

“One of his… specialties, was manipulating space…” she let that statement hang in the air for a minute, making sure that everyone present, including Tillia, understood where she was going with this.

“I suspect that he suffered an accident while cultivating his Mental Strength and might have been drawn into an independent space.

“I’m sharing this all with you so that you may know that Joram might not necessarily be lost to us,” she finished, once again looking each one of then in the eye.

For her part, Tillia was shell-shocked. She knew that Joram could do many things with his Mental Strength, but to be able to manipulate space was beyond her imagination. Sure, someone like the Matriarch, who’d already lived almost two hundred years and was already a Tier 6 mage

She shook her head and looked around. Aloralla was tearing up, what looked like relief and joy warring on her face. Ailmar looked stunned, but tried to keep a stoic expression on his face. Selussa looked like she was about to faint, while Vulen looked like he might be in danger of swallowing his tongue. Tillia took note of that, wondering just what was going through his head.

The biggest reactions, however, came from Xixi and Zanth, who both shot to their feet before suddenly appearing at the Matriarch’s side, asking a million questions.

Then it happened again. As she watched, an image seemed to get superimposed on both Xixi and Zanth, each one looking like they were closer to ten years old. It was strange to see, as sometimes she’d see someone just a few years older, other times she’d see them in their twilight years. It was… confusing.

Some people always seemed to age only so far in her visions, while others would go the whole gambit of their lives. Not all in one vision, no, but over the course of a month or so.

It was so frustrating! Some people were consistent, while others were as random as could be. Like Xixi and Zanth. One day Xixi would appear to only be few years older, the next day she’d appear to be an old crone, then the following day in the prime of her life. Then there’d be days where she’d only be about ten years old in her visions.

Shaking her head to clear all that away, Tillia focussed again on the conversations going on around her.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Aloralla asked, a painful hope written on her face.

“I am,” the Matriarch said with a reassuring smile. “The reason I was able to increase my comprehension of the Law of Space was because of something left behind by Joram.”

That once again caught everyone’s attention, all eyes once again glued to the Matriarch.

“What is it?” Selussa asked, curiosity winning out.

The Matriarch gave them a mysterious smile, then said “In his cultivation room, Joram liked to cultivate in a… fold in space so that he wouldn’t be interrupted.”

Jaws dropped again.

“Isn’t that quite an advanced use of the Law of Space?” Ailmar asked, now leaning forwards, his academic side now coming to life.

“Indeed,” she replied. “He has the most profound understanding of the Law of Space that I’ve ever seen, especially at his age,” she said, giving everyone a significant look. “That is why I will try to find the fold in space where I suspect he’s trapped. He might have a profound understanding of space, but he might not have the raw power needed to get himself out of whatever situation he’s found himself in.”

“So, you think that he’s been trapped all this time?” Aloralla asked, a look of shock and concern appearing on her face. “But, wouldn’t he also have issues… with food?” She asked, not quite wanting to mention that he might have starved to death in front of her daughter and Zanth.

Tillia appreciated the discretion, but knew that Joram would be all right with his “sustenance” power. She’d wondered if he could do something about that for her, as she found it increasingly bothersome to stop her cultivation for food breaks.

“He has his ring,” the Matriarch said, though she also knew that Joram didn’t really need to eat. “So, I wanted all of you to know that Joram is very likely OK, wherever he is, and that I will be attempting to find him.

“With that said, I’ll also be needing your Authority Tokens,” she said, holding out her hand. With only slightly puzzled looks, everyone handed theirs over. “Here are updated ones for everyone,” she said, handing out new tokens to each person there.

Zanth and Xixi each received a Level 4 Authority Token, while Tillia and the other adults each received a Level 5 Authority Token.

“I may be away for some time, so will help you to remain autonomous in what you need to do,” she said, looking each of them in the eye. “I know that there are many naysayers out there that are making it difficult for you. Please, ignore them and just concentrate on what you need to, to keep growing.”

“Grammy?” Xixi piped up.

Tillia thought that would illicit a Look from the Matriarch, but the Look just turned out to be a “kind look”.

“Yes, Xixi?”

Xixi smiled at being addressed by the nickname that Joram had given her. “Can I beat up people who say bad things about Joram?”

Tillia wasn’t sure how she’d respond to that question if it had been directed at her. For her part, the Matriarch blinked at little Xixi, then tried very hard not to smile. “Try not to my dear, as that will only encourage other people to try harder,” she finally said.

From Xixi’s confused expression, every adult in the room realized that that had gone over her head.

“In other words,” Aloralla said, “more people will come to bother you the more you beat people up.”

“But what if I beat them all up?”

There was nothing to say about that. Everyone was nonplussed, shocked, dumbfounded, etc., at that simple statement. How could you argue with that? Especially when, even in their clan, people tended to regard strength above most everything else.

“True,” the Matriarch finally said. “But it is better to have a harmonious relationship than a contentious one.”

Xixi gave her Grammy a flat look. “If they want to pick a fight, it’s their own fault if they lose.”

Out of the mouth of babes….

Tillia was stuck in that comment when her vision blurred around Xixi, revealing a young woman. She must have been close to twenty or so. She was dressed in a modern style, well-fitting leggings with what looked like a tight coat of some sort that buttoned up on her right side, all in a dark charcoal grey. Even her knee-high boots. Her hair was long, but kept back in a high ponytail, falling to the small of her back.

Her green lock of hair was now a darker green, like a dark emerald, or the leaves of a tree in late summer. The rest of her hair had gone a deep violet colour that bordered on black. It was rather striking.

Then, before she could see more, the vision vanished, leaving young Xixi staring back at the adults, her jaw set stubbornly.

“Just try to be gentle, OK?” The Matriarch finally said, to which Xixi nodded reluctantly.

Wow, Joram’s gonna have his hands full with that one… Tilla though, not sure if she should pity him or not. Then she remembered his declaration, so she decided on “not”.

* * * * *

Tatia checked her storage ring one last time, making sure that she would have everything that she’d need when trying to find Joram.

Food & water? Check.

Healing pills? Check

The healing gems? Check.

A few extra pairs of clothes? Check.

You never knew when you’d need replacements for destroyed attire, and she’d been “caught out” one too many times after having suffered a wardrobe malfunction while out training or on a mission to not plan for it these days.

Tatia sat back on her meditation mat, leaning against the cool stone wall of Joram’s meditation room as she mentally prepared herself. This wouldn’t be an easy thing she was attempting, and even less so would it be anything safe.

The Law of Space was one of the more deadly Laws to mess around with if you didn’t know what you were doing, and she was going to be effectively poking around in the dark. With a very short stick.

Then her thoughts turned back to the very… militantly-minded Xixi, wondering if she’d use a stick to beat-up the ones pestering her or if she’d just use her foot.

Shaking her head, Tatia refocussed on the task at hand; trying to find Joram.

She closed her eyes and focussed on feeling the Law of Space. It wasn’t an easy thing, far from it. At her level of proficiency, what she felt was akin to an occasional breeze gently caressing her skin. As pleasant as that was, she knew that she shouldn’t normally be feeling such a thing here, in a newly built room, relatively speaking.

But since it was the room that Joram had used when he vanished, she knew it was caused by Joram. So, she extended her senses to her utmost, feeling for the origins of that gentle breeze. Which was easier said than done. It kept swirling about as her senses touched it, causing it to swirl like smoke in one’s hands.

She didn’t let that stop her, however. No, she kept on reaching for it, taking her time as she approached, then patiently following it as it wove this way and that, in and out of the fabric of space around it.

Before she knew it, Tatia was in a sort of trance-like state, allowing her mind to flow with the ebbs and eddies of space. She watched it for so long that she nearly fell over when suddenly there was a change. If she’d not been observing the fluctuations so intently, she’d have missed the ever-so-slight wisp of Mental Strength that appeared, reinforced the space, then faded away again. All so fast that if she hadn’t been paying attention, she’d have missed the space changing.

Yes, paying attention helped.

Tatia grabbed onto that feeling, what she’d felt from the Mental Strength, or likely, Psionic Power, and analyzed it as best she could. Sure, she wasn’t an expert in Mental Strength, but she was also no slouch. She knew much of the theory behind its teachings, and even how various “spells” were made using Mental Strength. Joram kept calling them “Powers”, but that just seemed… weird to her. But, to each their own.

What she found was… puzzling. From what she knew of how Mental Strength worked, what had just happened shouldn’t have worked out. It was all too… weak.

Was this what Joram was talking about when he said that their tradition of Mental Strength was inefficient? Were they really just brute-strength’ing it? Forcing things to happen by virtue of sheer strength rather than understanding?

Then Tatia tsk’d to herself as she lost the feeling of the changed space and the power used to change it.

So, she relaxed again after popping a nutrition pill into her mouth and swallowing it, and settled in for the long-haul. She would need to experience, witness, that phenomenon occur again, and probably a whole bunch more, before she could truly study what was happening.

* * * * *

*1344.03.17*

Avi stood over Joram’s unconscious form, admiring her handiwork. She knew that the calendar they now followed wasn’t the same one as the one from Earth, so various holidays weren’t actually on the days of the month they appeared on here… but….

Joram dressed as a leprechaun was just too adorable. She’d long since fixed the issue of his unrestrained heat and electricity, so it was now safe to dress him in normal clothing. Well, “normal” clothing.

Yes, he was dressed almost exactly the same as that cereal box leprechaun, down to the dapper shoes and bowler sporting the four-leaf clover. Just as she was taking pictures- because photoshopping it wasn’t the same- something unexpected happened.

Under Joram’s bed appeared a… rift, that suddenly grew large enough to swallow Joram up, bed and all.

It was so fast that Avi couldn’t actually do anything to stop it, so she just grabbed onto the footboard as it fell by her and was dragged through the rift with him.

* * * * *

Tatia was sure she had finally traced the psionics back to their source. She wasn’t sure how long it had taken, but she was relieved that she’d finally teased out a greater understanding of the Law of Space as well as psionics. It was truly a more refined version of what they practiced, almost to the point of being a completely different discipline. The only thing in common was really the power fueling each Power.

She shook her head, refocussing on the trail to Joram, exerting her will. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then suddenly a tear in the fabric of space opened up in front of her, blowing surprisingly fresh air in her face, then an entire bed.

As unexpected as a bed being flung at her face was, her reflexes were still better. She threw herself back, effectively laying prone, from where she was sitting cross-legged on her mat, narrowly avoiding the bed as it passed above her face to smack into the far wall and fall to the ground.

What she didn’t expect was the woman with multi-coloured hair that landed on her, leaving them nose-to-nose.

“Hi,” the woman said, as strained grin on her face.

For her part, Tatia understood that meeting someone like this would indeed put a strained smile on most people’s faces. But this?

“Who are you?” She asked, her tone going glacial as her senses picked up Joram laying on the strange bed behind them. If this woman was with Joram the entire time, she had much to explain.

“Oh, no one terribly important,” she said, waving the one hand that wasn’t used to keep herself from laying completely prone on her.

*Stare*

“I should go,” the woman said as she seemed to fade away like morning mist.

That was the last thing Tatia wanted just then, but found that when she grasped the woman’s arms her hands passed through like she was touching an illusion, or smoke. She felt a brief stirring of space, but was too slow to do anything about it.

But Tatia was, if nothing else, very good at keeping on task. So, she kipped up and hurried over to Joram, then paused as she saw his attire.

“What?”

* * * * *

“Well, that could have gone better,” Avi mumbled to herself as she inspected the now messy convalescence room Joram had been convalescing in.

“Tweet-twoo-Whirrrr,” the droid said beside her, having come in to investigate the disturbance.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think that anyone could break in here.”

“Zzwoooooo.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, looking around. “I definitely need to reinforce the dimensional boundary if someone can just poke a hole and suck someone out.”

The droid, which looked remarkably like an R2 series Astro-Mech, just waited for her to say more. It was, after all, not programmed for speculative conversation.

“Yeah, I’ll get on that it a bit…” she mumbled, then went to a desk with stationary on it. A few moments later, she’d penned a good note explaining… not much. At least it was something.

Avi then concentrated for a moment before tugging Joram back into his realm, catching him as he appeared, but leaving behind the note.

“Well, she might be a bit mad, but she’ll live. Joram needs proper care, after all.”

* * * * *

Tatia was ready to chew rocks and spit out diamonds. Probably low-quality ones, and likely finer than sand, nevermind their clarity…

The point was that she was angry. She’d spent a considerable amount of time trying to find and bring Joram home, just to have him snatched away again.

Dear Matriarch Aneath,

I am terribly sorry, but Joram still needs to recover and the environment here is best for that. Thank you for your concern and effort in trying to find Joram, but please leave him to me.

I’m sorry for not sending updates regarding his well-being. To rectify that, I shall send weekly updates.

- Cheers

And that was it.

Tatia didn’t know who that woman was, but she did know that she already didn’t like her.

She briefly thought about opening another tear in space to make her way there to have a word with that woman, but thought better of it. If she could simply travel across dimensional boundaries like nothing, then Tatia didn’t fancy her chances in a possible altercation with her.

But who is she? She thought as she chewed on the corner of her lip, deep in thought.

The more she thought about it, the woman’s appearance was rather unique. She didn’t know of anyone who had hair like that. Her eyes weren’t unusual, especially in the clan where they had quite the variety of green eyes. Though, eyes like that were rare just about everywhere else.

She was also tall, much taller than even their clan who boasted higher than average heights. She was also quite pale. Yes, she knew people who had very fair skin, but her skin was milky white, with very strange tattoo-like markings on her skin, though they too were pale, yet strangely sparkly. Almost as though minute crystals were used in the tattoo ink.

She paused then, remembering the fragmented descriptions of the Founder.

The tattoos matched, but she didn’t have skin like liquid metal. Nor did her hair seem as though it was spun from gemstones, it was just colourful. Then there was the distinct lack of wings.

Was it just a coincidence that this woman had the same colour hair and tattoos as the founder?

Tatia re-read the note. It was so… casual. The lack of any sort of etiquette suggested that she was dealing with someone far above her own personal power. It could also mean that the person just didn’t care about her status….

Tatia felt a headache coming on.

At least she had found Joram and had even been told that they’d receive weekly updates on his condition.

It still bugged her. She was not used to losing.

She especially disliked being told to do anything. She’d spent long enough as the Matriarch of the Clear Knowledge Clan that she was used to being the one giving the orders, not taking them. Again, who was she? What relation did she have with Joram? Was she an acquaintance from this old life? If so, had he lied about being alone?

What else was that boy hiding from her? Yes, she respected personal boundaries and the right to one’s own secrets. But this was almost too much for her. For someone to be able to just drop in, then out, then teleport Joram away right from under her nose was less than welcome. The only reason she tolerated it was the unknown factor regarding her strength… and maybe that she was also considering the safety of the entire clan. Otherwise, she’d have tried her best to wrest Joram from her grasp.

Tatia sighed, stored her meditation mat in her storage ring, and left the room. She had a few things to catch up on, not to mention updating the families….

Maybe she’d retire early, drop the mantle of Matriarch on Sulia, and go back to being a researcher.

Sounds like a plan, she thought as she went straight to her rooms where most of her paperwork and reports would be waiting for her.

Remembering the paperwork might have also added weight to her decision for early retirement…. Yes, research, study, and writing papers on what she found was one thing but filling out paperwork in triplicate was beyond tedious.

* * * * *

“Ivaryn?”

“Yes, Sulia?”

Joram would have had a heyday with that exchange right there.

“Do you think that Joram will be OK?”

Ivary paused, looked out the window for a moment while he though.

“I really don’t know,” he finally said as he turned back to his lovely and somewhat sleep deprived wife.

“I think he’ll be all right,” she said after a moment, nodding to herself.

“What makes you think that?”

Sulia shrugged as she struggled to find the words, which was a bit unusual for his normally verbose wife.

“Just a feeling that I get,” she finally said with a shrug. “But I would very much like our next one to know their older brother.”

Ivaryn was nodding along, then paused at the last bit. It wasn’t so much what she’d said, but how she said it. Her tone had changed at the end.

“Our next one?” He gently probed, trying to be casual about the question. To which he only got a twinkling-eyed smile in response.

* * * * *

*1344.07.27*

Research log number… bah, I’m just making this up as I go along.

It has taken many more months to research and development to make any progress with the construction of my physical body. The fine-tuning needed in the process has been, unsurprisingly, much more involved than I’d anticipated.

I’ve had minor success with using [Data Transfer] on a Blank, but I’m still having issues with getting the compatibility to one hundred percent.

That being the case, I’ve worked on a few genetic tweaks here and there, optimizing nerve pathways, and even pre-making certain pathways in preparation for the [Data Transfer]. Having to “re-learn” how to do basic things like walking and talking is too time-consuming.

Then there’re the issues of making the Blank able to use many of the “racial” abilities that Altaea had enjoyed, innate abilities if you will. Yes, being able to use spell-like abilities isn’t crucial, but I guess that I inherited both Joram’s and Altaea’s perfectionist tendencies.

That said, I’m mostly there. I’ve successfully created a High Elan Blank that can be used. I’ve even managed to replicate the psionic structure needed to “assimilate” things like Altaea and Joram. I’m now working on successfully isolating the genetic data necessary to reproduce their Outsider side.

Is that entirely necessary? No. But I feel that it would help keep us all- ha, rather, both of us- on the same playing field. I don’t want to be anything but an equal partner, or at the very least, an asset, to Joram. Because, well, it felt all kinds of terrible to not be able to be there to help him when he needed it the most. No, I shouldn’t dismiss just how valuable having someone for moral support is. But at the same time, moral support doesn’t usually provide much help when an Old Monster like that Old Fart comes along and decides to smash you to paste.

Anyways.

I’ve managed to have some scouting droids made and sent out on surveying missions. The best part is that the deep mountainous regions tend to be almost entirely untouched by humans. And seeing as how other sentient races and species out there tend to place material gains as a lesser concern in their lives, I’ve managed to find large deposits, loads, seams, and veins of many valuable ore, minerals, gems, and crystals.

Yes, most mana crystal veins are claimed universally, as every living thing on the planet use them for cultivation, but I’ve still managed to get some. Which is on a level of importance comparable to essential. The amount of mana crystals needed to keep Joram going on his path is staggering… and I’ve seriously contemplated joining him on his path, using the same cultivation methods as he.

Which means I’ll need to redouble my efforts in finding unclaimed mana crystal deposits.

To catch up, though, I’ll first need to get my body up and running at peak efficiency. Which means that I may have to put off incorporating the Planar/Outsider genetic data until a later date where I’ve managed to perfect what I want/need from it.

So, maybe when Joram wakes up I’ll have a nice surprise waiting for him ^_^

That said, I may need to adjust how his ability to assimilate things works…. But all in due time!

I’ll end this log with saying that Altaea was entirely too busty. Yes, she had an amazing figure, but I can only attribute her breasts surviving intact through her hundreds of battles to the fact that she wore enchanted full-plate armour all the time. No other explanation for an FF cupped woman’s breasts surviving that much war. Well, she’d later been made of metal, so that also helped….

So, to keep herself intact without needing to use [True Metabolism] all the time, she’d decided to drop her new body’s cup size down a few notches to the realm of survivability. She kept the height and other proportions but was happy with the overall aesthetic… and the decreased lower back pain. She wasn’t sure if Joram had somehow created Altaea and her world while imagining the story, or he’d just happened to have somehow tapped into her world and saw her many adventures and such, but if he had subconsciously affected her physique, then he had a lot of answering to do regarding Altaea’s lower back pain….

Like, who would wish those issues on another person? Bah!

End log.