Wish upon the Stars (Original Superhero cultivation sci fi litrpg)

[BJJPanda]

Doesn't make sense for Bethy to be ahead of him. He has the massive boost from being the new wishmaster and another boost now from being known as Sashas kid

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Doesn't make sense for Bethy to be ahead of him. He has the massive boost from being the new wishmaster and another boost now from being known as Sashas kid

Click to shrink...

He's not the new Wishmaster yet. He's the heir. Most people in the universe haven't heard of the heir, like Shane couldn't tell you who they were back on Callus if there'd been a new wishmaster. He doesn't get the full benefits until post coronation when he IS the Wishmaster, and starts snowballing based on all the mortal masses who know his name. For now its enough to be impressive but its not at the same level. Bethy meanwhile, is Lark's youngest and favorite, and EVERYBODY knows the Vampire. She's also personally terrifying on a level Shane just isn't.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The Seraphim Tower was…big. Not intimidating, or imposing, exactly, just big. If anything the building was strangely comforting in its size. Like a big reliable bodyguard that loomed over the nearby area. It sat in the middle of a valley, surrounded by fluffy golden clouds, and the top of the tower exploded out above the skyline like a great beast rising from the sea.


We flew in to reach it, of course. Seraph, unlike many of our other destinations, was an A-rank planet. We COULD withstand the pressure, of course, but many of our lower ranked companions couldn't so we mainly stuck to safe areas where the Impact pressure was reduced, especially since those were the areas where the family stayed, given many of them had children who needed the consideration.


As we approached though, I was kind of blown away by the sheer majesty of the place. The Seraphim Tower wasn't what I expected. For one, it didn't seem like a tower at all. THe majority of the building was something like a modern skyscraper, a tall building with mirror reflective golden windows set into a white marble base.


The marble itself made up the bones of the building and flowed along it to the top, where it ended in a soaring white marble castle, built directly into the architecture of the tower itself.


You would expect the combination of a skyscraper and a castle to look discordant, but something about the cohesive design, the transition between the castle and the roof of the building, made it almost seamless.


We touched down on the parapets of the castle directly, and as soon as we arrived, Serah and Holly bolted from the shuttle in excitement.


As soon as their feet touched the building, I felt a sort of shudder in the air, a tremble in space itself as the white marble resonated with them. Their eyes lit with their respective fires, and the crystalline veins in the marble I hadn't even noticed flooded with angelic fire in response, as if the castle itself was celebrating their return.


To my surprise though, when Callie jumped down, there was another pulse, and blue black fire joined the gold and bronze. Making sure my own wings were out, I stepped down next, and sure enough, strands of black flowed among the crystal veins to join the other colors.


It felt…wonderful. Like I was home for the first time. The tower was resonating with the fire inside me in a way I'd never experienced, like my soul was singing a hymn of peace and joy in perfect harmony with the building. "Wow," I whispered as I felt the sensation from not just my own soul, but Callie's.


For her it was even deeper. The tower wasn't just harmonizing with Callie, it was singing counterpoint. Like she was taking charge of the song and it was content to support her with background vocals.


"This is…breathtaking," she exhaled softly. "I've never felt anything like this before."


"I should think not," chuckled a warm voice. There was a ripple in the air, and a man stepped from the space beside us. As he arrived, the tower pulsed again, and white fire joined the others inside the veins, twirling happily among the multicolored flames. "The Seraphim Tower is a unique artifact, after all."


We turned to take him in, and I was blown away by the sheer presence of the man. S-rank, from what I could tell, and strong. Maybe not like…Lark or my grandfather,but powerful. Behind him, two pairs of shining white wings sat folded against his back.


Serah and Holly bowed low. "Lord Isaac. It's an honor to have you meet us here."


"The sisters Hallah," he smiled happily. "It is a blessing to have you returned to us at last. I trust your journey was fruitful?"


Holly nodded quickly. "It was, my Lord."


"I'm glad," he chuckled. "Ariel has been all a tizzy since you left. She worries about you so. But when she heard you were bringing a wayward Archangel back with you for a visit…I don't think I've ever seen her so proud. You've brought great honor to your mother, young ones."


Holly, who I had never seen respond to almost anything with positive feedback, flushed and beamed at him. "Thank you, Lord Isaac. Callie, this is Isaac Nova, Tower Master of the Seraphim Tower, and the sole Throne in Dominion over the denizens of the tower. Our strongest A-ranker, and a close personal friend of your grandfather-in-law."


"Hi Grandpa Isaac," chirped Chelsea from behind us. "It's been a while."


He boomed out a laugh. "Chelsea, it's lovely to see you. I hear you've been off having adventures of your own. And this must be Shane. You definitely favor Elijah, but you've got that Anders height. Samuel must have been crowing about that." His eyes flicked to my wings. "Though I admit, I hadn't heard about this…development."


I shrugged. "It's not real. Just a form I can take. I based it off the racial trait from Holly and Serah, but it's nowhere near as complex."


"The Tower sings of your arrival," he said solemnly. "You are kin to us. Though admittedly, its harmony is drowned out by the choir of exultation it emits at the return our lost one. It has been many millennia since the tower shuddered at the presence of an Archangel."


"What exactly IS the tower?" I asked as he turned to lead us down into the castle. He hadn't asked us to follow, but we just kind of…knew we should.


We descended the stairs, and I saw several other angels off in the distance. None of them approached, all seeming to be almost afraid of Callie. "Originally? It was a cup. It belonged to the god who created the first Angel. After the foundation of our species, more deities began to use the trait. Angels were, for a time, the most sought after servants of the divine. Some were created right here, their inner flame lit with a spark from the cup, others were born, or created by their gods in our image."


His voice was strong and proud, and I could tell from his intensity that he was passionate about the subject. "Even after…well, that's not appropriate conversation for children. Suffice to say that after the number of gods dropped off, we maintained our vigil. To be taken in service to a deity or their retinue is the pinnacle of angelic achievement. I myself am your grandfather's emissary, and we've been on many adventures together."


Holly nodded. "It's why we traveled with Chelsea," she admitted. "We were sort of auditioning for a role as her emissary. No rule saying she can only have one, though it usually works that way."


"Wait…so the angelic bond isn't just something Callie and I have?" I asked in shock. The angelic bond was what the connection between our souls had become after she'd become an Angel. I explained a brief version of the process, and the Throne nodded.


"That's more…intimate than most of them," he said carefully. "I've heard of bonded with relationships like that, but it fell out of favor a long time ago. The bond is usually more transactional than romantic. An angel draws strength from their patron to act as their shield, their voice, or any number of other functions. Though of course the bond can be used in reverse."


We continued down a winding marble staircase, finally coming to a stop in a large chamber, at the center of which sat a brazier blazing with the most confusing, chaotic, random flame I'd ever seen in my life.


Blue, red, orange, black, white, every color, shade, consistency, luminosity, and any other possible attribute of flame danced inside the brazier.


"Behold the heart of the Seraphim Tower," he said with unshakable pride. "The flames of eternity. The original spark that lit the flame of the first angle, kindled with a flicker of angelic fire from every angel to have ever passed through the tower's halls. The ancestral fire of our people. It's why I've asked you to come here today."


I felt…overwhelmed. Mezmerized. The fire was so complex, so varied, so awe inspiring, that I was having trouble keeping my brain from overloading and shutting down from overstimulation.


Callie took my hand, squeezing it tightly. "You want me to contribute my flame," she said quietly. "Why? What do you get out of it?" She sounded cautious, which I approved of. Holly and Serah didn't seem offended in the slightest either.


"I understand this must seem suspicious," Isaac said reassuringly. "But we simply wish to take your flame into our ranks. You see, when a new Angel is born within the tower, their inner flame is kindled with a spark from the flames of eternity. If you add your flicker, in the future, more angels may be born with your unique fire. It is a rare and precious chance to add new flames to the brazier, and we would be in your debt should you allow us to do so."


He smiled at me warmly. "And Shane, I would be honored if you would lend your own fire to our ranks as well. It feels quite potent. In return, the tower will accept you as members of our race. You will become true members of the Seraphim Tower, and we will treat you as our own kin. Should you have need of us in the future, you need only call, and we will be at your side."


That brought me up short. I was going to be the Wishmaster. Having access to such a powerful faction would be incredibly useful. I turned to Callie, silently telling her that she was the one who got to decide. I wouldn't force her to do this. Her flame belonged to her and her father, not to me. I couldn't make that call.


But to my shock, she didn't even hesitate. She flicked her fingers, manifesting a sphere of blue black flame, and then tossed it into the brazier.


There was a rumble beneath our feet and the flames exploded upwards, a column of multicolored fire erupting up the shaft of the spiral staircase and out through the top of the tower itself.


"Welcome, little sister," Isaac said formally as he bowed to her. "We are honored to hear your song join our choir."


Knowing it was my turn, I called for Sammael's black flame, tossing a spark into the brazier. I too felt the welcoming shudder, but it was much less dramatic. Isaac's greeting was more perfunctory for me, but I got it.


Then, he clapped his hands together. "Now, with that out of the way, how about we retire to Ariel's rooms for dinner. Holly and Serah's mother has been eagerly waiting to meet you all."


Seeing our friends perk up at that news was probably the most heartwarming thing that had happened here, and I couldn't help but smile as they practically ran down the hall towards the rooms we were supposed to be heading for.


As we walked, more and more Angels peeked out from hallways or behind columns. They were clearly interested in seeing more of us, and I couldn't blame them.


Callie though, she barely seemed to notice. My wife had this quiet confidence about her these days that I couldn't begin to match, and I adored it. I always felt at ease with her at my back. When we arrived at the rooms in question, a platinum haired woman who looked like Holly's older sister pulled the door open. "MY BABIES!" she wailed, pulling the girls into a bonecrushing hug.


I felt a flush of warmth through the bond from Callie, and I returned it, both of us happy for the girls. When she released them, she stepped back and smiled beatifically at us. "And you must be our guests. Please, come in. I'm so excited to get to know you!" She turned and beckoned us into her rooms, and once I entered, I couldn't help but be blown away by the smell of the food. Whatever this woman's cooking Skill was, it was even higher than mine. This was going to be a fantastic meal.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Dinner with Ariel was really nice. She was an extremely warm and welcoming person, and Holly and Serah both adored her. But despite that, throughout the entire meal, I couldn't help but notice Callie was…distant. I'd expected after contributing her flicker to the flames of eternity she'd be excited or energized. Instead she seemed mostly out of it. Isaac, once we finished eating, offered us a room at the tower, and we accepted, so after we finished eating we headed out for a tour, and spent the rest of the day ooh'ing and aah'ing over the various amazing angel amenities.


When we were finally ready to go to sleep, we headed down to our room, and once we were inside, I went ahead and triggered Murmur, boosted to B-rank by my staff. Once we were as secure as we could get, I turned to her with an expectant smile as I pulled off my mask.


She pouted at me. "What?"


"You seem off," I told her bluntly. "Ever since our meal with Ariel. Or rather, since we saw the flames of eternity."


Her face twisted into unhappiness. "It's not going to be enough," she finally said. "I mean, I've been excited about all the power. The weapon. The legacy. It's all pretty amazing. But it's all about the Void. During the war that'll be huge, but after? When we become gods I'm going to be totally pidgeonholed. You're so damned versatile and I'm this one trick pony. And it's not even my trick."


Walking over, I flopped down on the bed next to her. "Ok. So…fix it. You've got the tools to do anything you want. So, what is that? New move? New path? Hell you could build a new skill from the ground up. Want to wish for something as a baseline?"


"No," she said firmly. "I don't. I'm already…I have my path. I know where I'm going. I just…I need to do more with it."


I didn't speak. She seemed like she was onto something, and I didn't want to knock her off the scent. I knew that expression, that moment of inspiration that was slowly dawning. It was the same one I'd seen on her face back when we'd first left Callus, when she'd stared out into the Abyss and it had stared right back.


She held up her hand, and an orb of fire flickered to life. Blue black flames just like she always used. She stared into them, searching. Then she shook her head and closed her eyes, letting the fire go out.


I raised a brow, but knowing where she was going, I decided to follow. I wanted to see where this went.


Between one blink and the next, we were standing in her temple. It looked mostly the same. Big, empty, kind of dark. She strode past the pews, the stained glass, all the way up to the altar where her sword hung suspended. Gossamer. She grabbed it, then tossed it over onto a nearby bench as she raised both hands, conjuring a roaring bonfire of black and blue flame on the altar itself.


Walking over, I sat down at the nearest pew, looking on with interest as she circled the flame. "You have a plan here?" I asked casually. "Not to rush you, just kind of interested in where your head is at."


"I have a few," she said slowly. "My first idea is atavism. This flame used to be the flame of the void, right? Like he added to it to make the Heretic Fire. So what if I do…this," she turned and grabbed Gossamer, and then just started hacking away at the fire. It took me a second to figure out her objective, but I watched with interest as she tried to…I guess cut away the blue parts.


I was pretty sure that wasn't how atavism worked, but she was on the scent, so I just waited. Ten minutes. Twenty. She was standing in front of the fire, flickers of blue flame littering the ground, her face soaked with sweat.


"This isn't working," she said angrily. She slammed her blade into the ground, then stalked away, pacing unhappily. "Damn it. I need to think. I thought being in my soul space with the sword would let me brute force it. But I need to try something more…esoteric." She walked back to the altar, reached down, and picked up the bonfire.


It floated above her hands, molding into a sphere, and she carried it gingerly into the center of the church, then held it up above her head. Slowly, carefully, she pulled apart the hands cradling the flame, and as she did, it grew.


Or rather, it stretched. As she pulled her hands further apart, the orb got thinner and more diffuse, expanding until I could see through the space between the tongues of flame. When it reached its largest form (about the size of a small shuttle), she stopped and stared up at it. Then she condensed it back down.


She pushed smaller and smaller, until it was about the size of a pinpoint. Then slowly expanded it back out. Small, big, small, big, she kept expanding and contracting it, gathering speed as she did.


It took me a second to figure out what she was trying, but once I did I blinked in surprise. The fire wasn't…cohesive. I mean it was, but it was still distinct. The blue and black parts of the flame didn't MOVE the same. The faster she expanded and contracted it, the more the two flames began to become distinct. Blue fire, black fire, they were slowly separating…until finally she snapped out a hand and closed it around a spark of black, letting the whole thing go out around her.


Panting, she held up her palm, opening it up to reveal…a butterfly. A very small, very black butterfly made of onyx flame. She stared at it for a moment…then rolled her eyes and blew on it, letting it just go out like a candle.


She slumped down into the nearest seat. "What was that about?" I asked her gently. "You got it."


"It wasn't right," she said morosely. "Conversion rate was absurd, and it just felt…stilted. Hollow. It WAS the fire of the Void, but I realized I didn't want that."


I shrugged. "I mean, you have a research direction at least, right? You don't need to fix it today."


She shook her head. "You don't get it. I'm basically helpless right now. Against any normal person I've got nothing. I mean, my sword I guess, but that's just a weapon, and I still need more training. My work with Alanna and Fade has really slowed down. I need something new. Need to innovate. I didn't realize until I was forced to face the possibility of a bunch of angels just like me how…unprepared I am. How specialized. I haven't been this helpless since I first got my powers. At least with shadows…"


She froze. Her eyes, previously flickering with frustration and annoyance, narrowed. "Shadows," she said slowly, coming to her feet. "Shadows. Shadows on the wall. What kind of shadow does darkness cast?"


Hurrying back to the altar, she manifested the flame again, leaving it to flicker and dance. She snatched up the sword and…stabbed it into her feet.


I yelped, coming to my feet to stop her, but she ignored me. I forced myself to calm down, to trust her, as she slowly and methodically sawed at the ground around her shoes. One foot, then the other. Then, both of her hands cloaked in blue black fire, she leaned down and shoved them INTO the ground at her feet.


She pulled. And pulled. Her hands, which had sunk into the shadows, began to resurface. I hadn't realized she still had those powers. Or maybe she didn't. But I was transfixed. Clasping her fingers as she pulled was another pair of hands. Not shadows. Just blue gloves. She pulled, and as I watched, another person began to emerge.


Heaving the other form (one almost identical to hers in size and shape) free of the ground, she set her down, and then dusted off her dress with a satisfied grin.


The figure across from her was…her. But not. Blue hair with black highlights instead of the reverse, black eyes that got lighter and faded to blue in the center. Blue wings with black undertones. Even the dress was the opposite.


Callie raised her sword, and the other figure raised hers, a bright blue blade. "Nice to meet you…my shadow self." She purred.


There was a flicker, and Callie BECAME the blue haired girl, who vanished completely. Squealing happily, she twirled in place, her ballgown spinning as her sword whipped the air, leaving trails of bright blue fire with barely any black.


"Ok…nice makeover," I said slowly. "But maybe tell me what just happened?"


She beamed at me. "Shadows," she said confidently. "They were always my ability. And sure, that changed when I got the fire, but they're still THERE. Just different. Shadows became the Abyss became the Void became the Heretic Fire. But fire still casts a shadow. The shadows cast by the heretic fire should be different, right? And then I considered my problem.


"I had power that would only work on the Void, and I wanted power that would work on everything else. Then I got to thinking of my shadow clones." She was so excited she was practically vibrating in place. "I heard a story, a long time ago, about a type of monster. A monster that mirrors its originator perfectly, becomes the opposite of everything they are. A shadow self. A doppleganger."


She gestured down to herself. "Might I introduce you to my shadow self. Calliope Wyndham. Adherent Archangel. It even changed my Shadow Manipulation ability. I…I think this a pseudo-Domain. I can feel the pressure on my Chronicle. But it's still me. Still my power. More my power maybe."


"Adherent Archangel," I mused. "Adherent to what?"


She hummed with interest. "You know, that's a good question. I don't know. It just felt…right. Adherent feels like the opposite of Heretic. Like this version of me is searching for something to believe in, instead of rejecting those beliefs. Maybe it's the story Isaac told us, about angels searching for their bonds. I've found mine already, but maybe I'm still looking for something else."


I laughed, then opened my eyes and emerged from her soul space, scooping her up and tossing her onto the bed. In the real world, she was still in her Adherent form, her hair still bright blue with black highlights, and she laughed as she flopped down on the comforter.


"You feel better?" I asked as I laid down next to her, propping my head up on my palm.


"I do," she said with a long, happy sigh. "I feel…new. Different. You kind of inspired me with all your nonsense forms. Though I suspect I'll stick with just the one."


I shrugged. "Well, not everyone can be as cool as me. It's fine to know your place."


Jaw dropping, she smacked me on the chest. "I can't believe you said that to me. Just for that, you have to spar with me tomorrow. And I'm not holding back."


"Alright," I told her with a wry smile. "But if you're going to throw down with the Wishmaster, you're going to need a boost. I've been raking in the points lately. You have to use all my scrolls. I'm already ahead, this is the only way you'll keep up."


I felt a surge of warmth and adoration through the bond, and I tried not to let it show on my face how smug I was about it. She just rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said with a sigh. "But don't come crying to me when you regret it." Despite the grudging agreement, I could see the glow of happiness and contentment in her eyes. I leaned down to pull her into a kiss, and then there was no more talking for quite a while.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We ran into a slight problem with Callie using all my scrolls…she couldn't pay for them. If she'd just been reshuffling her points it would have been fine, point for point, but unfortunately, wishing for MORE stats meant cost, and she just didn't have enough to pay for it. We'd tried paying with stored attacks, but the bond gave me full access to her Heretic Flame, so it didn't work as payment. In the end, she'd been forced to postpone the scroll usage until she could find a source of income.


Still, she had become incredibly famous in the time since my initiation ceremony, and she'd raked in quite a number of stats with her powerful reputation. The more people heard about her the more they learned about her past. Not just being the daughter of a mysterious god, but her feat of slaying Suvaya back in the Moonsong Glade, her identity as my grandmother's disciple, not to mention her recent status as a revered member of the Seraphim Tower, though that one hadn't really had time to spread.


"You sure you don't want to wait on this?" I asked her worriedly. "I mean, the extra stats might be important. There's no need to rush, right?" It was the next day, and I'd gotten my scrolls packed away and prepared to have our little sparring match, only to realize the issue too late.


She grinned at me wolfishly. "Nuh-uh, you're not getting out of this. I'll accept the stockpile that I have waiting from the last six months, and then we throw down. I want to know what this new form can do. Besides, I can't let down my adoring public, now can I?" She gusted behind us to where the stands set into the walls of the training room sat FULL of angels.


Which was…disconcerting. I wasn't a stranger to fighting for an audience, but they didn't have to look so eager to see me lose. Which I wasn't even sure would happen.


The only reason I was willing to do this at all was that while Callie was accepting the points from the last six months, I was still withholding mine. My soul was clamped down tight on all my stat income, so I was still sitting at one point one million and change, while she was most likely going to pass that with this next boost.


Despite her abilities, some of my abilities, including my staff's power to bump one of my skills up a rank, would make it impossible for someone at my own level to beat me, barring people at the peak like Ellie or absolute bullshit artists like Bethy.


Who…I hadn't actually SEEN today. Which worried me. She and Chelsea had vanished after we arrived. At the very least Holly and Serah weren't here so they were probably together, that made me feel a bit better. My sister and the angels should keep Bethy from burning down the tower. Plus it was some sort of god artifact based on flames, so it should be at least SLIGHTLY fireproof.


Callie, meanwhile had closed her eyes and allowed the weight of her growth to settle over her. I could feel through the bond when the stats slammed into her, but given her powerful soul and high total points it wasn't enough to cause any real problems. When she opened her eyes again, they gleamed excitedly. I raised an eyebrow at her and she pushed an impression through the bond as a thought, essentially beaming her stats right into my head.,


Calliope Wyndham. C-rank.


Ability-: Grandmaster Trait: Heretic Archangel. An instrument of the will of a faded god. A child of the flame that burns back the heart of the Void.


Weapon:Gossamer (huge black sword housed in Callie's new soul space, a massive cathedral created when she formed her Chronicle)


Chronicle:Book of the Final Flame


Might-307,012


Impact-155


Vitality-229,236


Fantasy-246,541


Focus-209,302


Perception- 218,186


Creation-210,643


Progress to next rank: 1,421,075/10,000,000


Soul Strength: Tanzanite Soul Body.


Skills: Minor Tracking, Beginner Dual Dagger Mastery, Intermediate Stealth, Intermediate Trap Mastery, Beginner Disguise, Lesser Balam Mastery, Grandmaster Adherent Ascension


Path of the Heretic Scion- Solid. Technique: Guilt in Gossamer


I blinked in shock. That was a lot to unpack. Not the changes to the skills, really, that was expected. More the sheer number of stats. It felt like a lot until you realized it had been six months. I expected a lot of her reputation boost had been with weaker Ascendants and had probably run out of steam after a month or two. Still, it was a solid bump without having to actually DO anything, and I was betting it would explode after word spread of her addition to the ranks of the tower.


I also noted the change to her technique. Guilt in Gossamer was…new. I assumed it was the sword art she'd been training in, or some aspect of it, but it reminded me that maybe I'd been taking her too lightly. My wife might not be a monster like Bethy, but she was a powerful warrior. I considered possibly letting myself bulk up after all, but resisted. I'd already committed to fighting as I was. I WOULD use my staff to boost Mornax if necessary.


She seemed to take in my hesitation, grinning wildly at me as she tapped into her grandmaster Skill. It was interesting that her form change manifested itself as a skill and not just a pseudo-Domain. It could be a factor of perception (lower case p) I knew that people influenced their stat readouts with intention, or it could be because of her trait based body. Either way, it was clearly a powerful skill, and one that made a hell of an impression.


Before my eyes, her hair rippled, bleeding to mostly blue that faded to black instead of the opposite. Likewise her isises became black voids that lightening into eerie pinpricks of glowing blue, and her wings inverted color alongside her newly drawn sword.


"Nice, right?" she asked giddily as she tapped her blade on the ground. With a single tap, it ignited into bright blue flames, with only a bit of black shot through the tongues of fire. "Ready?"


I nodded, spreading my own wings and calling on Glory, my most powerful combat form. My staff whirled, the end coalescing into a spear of black flame as I spun it crossways along my body to knock the blade aside.


My strike was heavy, leveraging the whirling momentum of my staff to bat aside what I perceived to be a powerful blow. But the second my weapon made contact, it deflected smoothly, and Callie spun off her back foot, bringing her whole body whipping around in a pirouette, using the momentum to lend speed to her slash.


My staff was out of position, but I was wearing my Seal of Solomon. I triggered Mornax and brought a fist up to deflect the attack with my forearm…and screamed.


I washurt. I blinked, flickering back as I cradled my arm. Not because it was that bad, but because I hadn't been injured by someone my rank in Mornax in…a long time. I stared at my arm, stripping off my gauntlet to see a strange cut across my forearm, looking almost translucent.


"Shane?" Callie yelped worriedly, scrambling over to check on me. I flexed Zagan, flooding my arm with purifying fire, and it returned to normal, but it was still VERY interesting. "Are you ok? What was that? What happened? I thought your armor would stop it."


I grinned at her, triggering my staff to bump Mornax up to B-rank. "I'm fine, Cal," slipped my gauntlet back on. "You just caught me by surprise. That felt really weird. It bypassed my armor, somehow. I think the flames carried it through. I don't think it was able to cut my defenses exactly, more like it erased a small portion of my body for a minute. Try it again."


"I will NOT," she spat. "That's so dangerous, are you crazy?"


Waving her off, I shook my head. "It's fine, I upgraded Mornax. You won't be able to burn away a B-rank defensive form no matter how weird and off beat you attack is. I should be able to at least tell what it's doing this time." I triggered Dantalion, focusing on my arm as I held it out to her. Her attack couldn't damage a B-rank me. Because it hadn't damaged my armor. It had BYPASSED my armor by going around it, but there wasn't a scratch on the metal.


Grimacing, she lifted her sword and brought it down on my arm again. This time, I caught what happened. I was watching closely, and I saw the fire flare for a moment. My eyes widened.


"That's…holy shit that's insane," she stared at me in confusion. "Your sword cut me from the void. The Heretic Fire rejects Void influence on realspace, purifying the present of Void entities. This…Adherent Fire does the opposite. Rather than rejecting the Void from realspace, it embraces realspace from the Void. Like you summoned the cut from the other side of the veil right into my flesh. That's why it injured me through Mornax, too. You were attacking the physical with the metaphysical, cutting away at my reality."


In layman's terms, she'd transposed her sword out of reality and then used that illusory state to make part of ME illusory. It didn't work on my B-rank defenses, nor my armor, they were too heavy for her to discount, but against anyone at our rank?


I grinned at her, stepping back and raising my guard. In this form she couldn't hurt me, which meant she was free to test and experiment. "Again," I told her bluntly. "Do it again and try to get a feel for it." I could see her eyes shining with excitement as she raised her sword in a guard. When I nodded, she blurred forward, flicking out experimental cuts.


My staff deflected the blows, carefully offsetting the leverage of the strikes, but I could feel the flames rolling down the weapon, sometimes seeping into the cracks in my armor around my hands or elbows, or even my shoulders.


The flames seemed to act as a vector of some kind, carrying the attacks, and wherever it seeped in the cuts were carried from the Void to try to sever my flesh. I felt it scraping at my defensive form, unable to break through. As we fought, she seemed to become more attuned to it. She started flicking out slashes of fire that cut the air in great waves, aiming for as large an area as possible.


I flowed between the strikes, but as I did, I saw something click in her head. She lashed out again, this time with the blue jewel at the butt of her weapon, and it struck the air. Space SHATTERED. Cracks formed in the skin of the world, not enough to expose the Void, but galaxy fractures still radiated from the strike. Grinning, Callie lifted her flaming sword and drove it into a single piece of fractured air.


All around me, the shattered pieces of sky reflected the image of her attack, and a hundred blades emerged from the refractions, blazing with blue fire.


Cursing, I closed my eyes and turtled up, trusting my defense. There was a horrible SHRIEKING sound as the blades skidded over my armor, just strong enough to carve small furrows in about a dozen places. But I hadn't just given up. Dantalion was active when she attacked, and I'd been scanning the world around my.


Zagan flashed and I slammed my staff into a seam in the air, unleashing a wave of green fire that wiped away the Adherent Flame, causing a flare of teal as the fractures sealed. I grimaced at my wife, who was smiling sheepishly at my now scratched up armor. "Ok, new plan," I said mildly. "You need to do a LOT of training." Despite the wryness, I couldn't hide the unmistakable sense of pride in my tone. I had very little idea what that been just then…but when she mastered it, it was going to be TERRIFYING. I couldn't wait.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Callie was in a great mood when we finally met up with the others. I was really happy for her too, of course, but also somewhat terrified of where they'd BEEN. "Hey guys," I greeted my sister, Bethy, and the angels. "Where did you wander off to?"

Bethy beamed. "I was trying to become an angel!" At our confused silence, she put her hands up to clarify. "Oh, not like…forever. But I decided that I could totally do it. I can turn into bats, and bats have wings, and I can turn into mist, which is like smoke, and where there's smoke there's fire, and so…" She threw her arms in the air dramatically, and a huge pair of bat wings unfolded from her back. "Ta-da!"

"Do they…do anything?" I asked her slowly. "And did you actually CREATE fire?"

She pouted at me. "Duh, they fly. And yuh-huh. Watch." She closed her eyes, holding her hands together, and her fingers started to blur. Into mist. Mist which was made of water, as far as I knew.

"Bethy, I don't think-" there was a tiny whoosh, and between her hands a tongue of blood red fire caught and floated inside the mist. "Huh." I said slowly. "That's…what even is that? Mist is water, not smoke. And blood is water. And wine is water. Where the hell did you even GET fire powers?"

She just stared at me in pity. "Blood is HOT. Fire comes from heat, everyone knows that."

"That's…ok, please put that out, my head is starting to hurt." She shrugged, then flicked her fingers and the mist dispersed, taking the flame and wings with it. "Oh wow, Callie your hair looks so cool!" she said as she caught sight of my wife for apparently the first time. "And is that a new dress? It looks like the one I gave you but way better."
Callie grinned at her. "Something like that. I have a new form. Kind of like yours."

"We could be twins!" she squealed excitedly. "I've always wanted a twin! I've never even met any."
Chelsea frowned at her. "Bethy…Shane and I are twins."

"Nuh-uh," she vampire responded derisively. "Your hair is black and white. His is yellow. Plus he's way taller than you, you look nothing alike."

Weirdly, THAT offended me. "Ok, my hair is BLOND, not yellow. Secondly we are FRATERNAL twins. Which means we
were born at the same time to the same parents but we don't look the same. People aren't twins just because they look alike."

"Then how are Callie and I twins?" she asked acidly. She blurred appearing next to my wife, putting on an exaggerated "cool" expression to match my currently nonplussed spouse.

Deciding this fight wasn't worth my sanity, I turned to the angels. "So, we were here to donate a spark to the brazier, right? Because as much fun as this has been, we're not too long out from needing to head for my coronation. You two are coming with, right?"

Holly nodded. "Obviously. Your sister is going and we're trying to bond with her, remember? Plus, having angels at your coronation is super auspicious. You're lucky to have us around. Everyone is going to be so jealous." Despite the semi joking tone, I oddly didn't smell any untruth there. That was interesting to know.

Still, we'd come here to talk to Isaac, so it seemed rude to leave without telling him. Callie obviously thought so too, because she said. "Hey, can you take us to where your tower master is? I wanted to say goodbye before we left." As she said it, she relaxed her hold on her transformation Skill and slipped back into her normal angelic form.

Bethy gasped. "You have a CLOTHES dyeing Skill? And it works on your hair? That's even cooler than I thought! Is that what being an angel is about? I need to work on my angel form more, clearly I misunderstood the core essence of angelic power." She started chewing her lip, lapsing into deep thought about something. I sighed but didn't bother to comment. Hopefully it would keep her busy until we left.

They led us off in some direction or other, and as we walked, Callie fell back to drop into step with me. "So…I changed my mind," she said abruptly. At my confused head tilt, she explained. "About the wishes. This new ability is complicated and weird. I already just got a huge bump, and I don't want to complicate the learning process any further. Plus…I worry. About you and this coronation. I want you to use those scrolls to grow your own stats."

I frowned. "I guess I get that," I said slowly. "And we DO have a tower full of potential sources of points here. I imagine plenty of them would love to realign their stats a bit. But are you sure?"

She nodded. "The whole mess before we got here, with my…my dad, and Gossamer and my Chronicle. I did too much at once, and it took me ages to sort everything out. All my training in the sword and in understanding my power, that's what led me to realize this new path. I built it slowly. I need to focus. Buckle down and learn what this can do. I won't be accepting any more new stats for a while. Not until I have a better grasp on my Adherent form."

I sighed. "Alright. It's your call. I'll talk to Isaac, I'm sure his people wouldn't be against using my stockpile. I have over seventeen hundred scrolls lying around, so it's not like we don't have enough for everybody." Six months of stockpiling at nine a day had created quite a nest egg for me to crack into.

When we arrived at the top of the tower (not the VERY top where the brazier was, but Isaac's office was pretty high up), we were greeted by an enthusiastic Ariel. "There you are," she scolded her daughters lightly. "I've been looking all over for you." She shot us a warm smile. "Apologies, you four, I needed to speak to my girls before they ran off again without saying anything."

"We were NOT going to do that," Holly said bluntly. "Tell her Sera!"

Her sister nodded, her usual somber appearance fully on display. "She is correct, mother. We had no intention of making our absence felt without taking the time to say our farewells." Her point was underscored by the complete lack of any stupid puns to punctuate her statement, a rarity in regards to the monotone angel comedienne.

"As for you all," she told me as she snagged their arms to drag them away. "Isaac was looking for you. He had something he wanted to say before you go. He didn't JUST want you here because of the brazier. But he was hoping to delay his main business until the end of your visit, so you could enjoy yourselves a bit longer."

I sighed. I had been kind of afraid of that. This whole visit had ostensibly been at Callie's behest, but it had become clear that while Isaac may not have commanded the twins to invite us directly (or maybe he had, I wasn't sure), he'd at the very least planted the idea. Looking back I realized he'd ADMITTED this had been his idea when he first met us, and I just hadn't been paying attention, distracted as I was by the tower.

We thanked her and then headed into the room she'd pointed out, where we found Isaac sitting at a large dark wooden desk, shuffling around papers. When I knocked on the open door, he looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile. "Shane, Calliope, Chelsea, and of course Lady Nightmask, it is an honor." He gave a dignified half bow to Bethy, who nodded back solemnly, then walked over and plopped down in one of the nearby chairs.

"So…" I said as I took one of the other unoccupied chairs. "You wanted to talk to us about something?"

Isaac frowned, biting his lip and straightening the papers as he seemed to contemplate what to say and how. "This tower was once the item of power of a god." He began, seemingly deciding to start at the beginning. "A cup, inside which the fires of heaven blazed. To drink from the cup was to sup of the flames of eternity. But eternity is not found in a blazing moment. It is all times, all things, all places. And so, the flames burn not just at one time, but for all of the cup's existence."

I grimaced. I understood what he was talking about. I did a lot of stuff with causality and temporal instability, and I'd learned a bit about artifacts that dealt with those kinds of concepts. "Divination," I said with a sigh. "The flame is always burning, always has been burning, so if you look into it…"

"You see the length of its existence," he nodded. "The scope and scale of the cup's truth. This ability is…taxing. As the sole S-ranker of this tower, I am the only one who can use it. The objects of gods are not toys. It takes skill and knowledge to alter a divine instrument to be used by mortal hands." He shot Callie a weighty look, and she blanched.
"But I do sometimes dabble in the flames. I consult the fires of eternity, for myself, and for my allies." His gaze moved back to me. "Allies such as your grandfather."

"A prophecy," I said flatly. "You're going to give us a prophecy, presumably of something catastrophic."
He waved me off dismissively. "I am no seer. Such is not my gift. Prophecy is vague, but often complex. I simply see moments, snapshots in time. They are up to my interpretation, and can be changed or avoided. If one is aware of them. I seek not to place a burden upon you, only to forewarn and thereby forearm."

That got my hackles down a bit. I hadn't really interacted with prophecy, but I was pretty wary about anything that told me something bad was going to happen. Because they were usually right, and I didn't need to stress about that shit before AND after.

But this wasn't that. A warning that could be USED. That could change things. That was something I was willing to hear. Maybe it could help me save someone I cared about.

Seeing me focus on him, he nodded. "Very well. Prepare yourself. This knowledge may very well derail the very tracks of destiny." I nodded back, waiting, and he closed his eyes. "I saw an image of you. Standing in a large chamber, surrounded by shadowy figures. And you were in danger."

"I…I'm sorry?" I asked him slowly. "Did you see…where? When? Who the danger might be caused by?"

"Not at all," he responded earnestly. "You were simply surrounded. There was danger. The people surrounding you might not have been involved. As for timing, I have no idea. The place was also a mystery." I was about to get up and storm out after telling him off for wasting my time, when he continued. "I did hear a word. Just one. You said it yourself."

My eyes snapped up to him, pinning him with expectation. That was something I could work with. Was it a name? Some kind of clue?" "What was the word?" I asked him, my tone steely.

He stared at me, eyes lidded and face closed down. He looked menacing and alien, somehow completely other in a way he hadn't a moment ago. The light seemed to bend around him without actually being bent, like the universe had focused itself on him subconsciously and it hadn't even noticed itself. "Just one word," he repeated. "Apostate."

The word hit me like a closed fist. I felt a shiver run down my spine, carried from somewhere in the future by my fatewalker instincts. A premonition of loss and destruction and the death of all hope. My blood ran cold in my veins in a way I'd never experienced before, and I felt my teeth buzz with the uncontrollable urge to spit that word out into the air myself to cleanse it from my mind. "Ah," I rasped, my voice shaky. "Well at least it's nothing ominous."

 

[Quenster06]

Oh dear, seems like Black Sorrow's faction is going to be a problem again.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

After the unfortunate revelation that some kind of…something was going to try to kill me at my coronation (probably), I made Isaac an offer. With over seventeen hundred scrolls to burn, finding enough people to use them all with any expedience would be tough on my own. Luckily, I was in the presence of the tower master of the Seraphim Tower, and after I made the offer, he was more than happy to make the arrangements.

On the upside, this let me target my stat gains a little more narrowly than would normally be possible with that kind of volume. I asked him to focus on Fantasy and Creation, my two lowest stats, and then let him loose to track down my potential sources of income.

Callie waited until he was gone to turn to me with concern written across her face. "Apostate?" she asked worriedly. "Why does that feel like it scares you?"

"It DOES scare me," I admitted. "But hell if I know why. It's the usual fatewalker bullshit. I get this sense of…doom. I don't know. Like I know what the word means. Someone who renounces a god or religion. In some ways it's not dissimilar to a Heretic, honestly. But something about it…I feel fear, Cal. For the first time in a while I'm genuinely scared and I don't know why. I don't GET scared. Not like this."

My sister hummed. "It certainly sounds bad. But we can keep an eye out. Not just us, mom and dad and the grandparents. Even great grandma and great grandpa. You're not alone anymore, Shane. You have the whole family on your side. Hell, BOTH families. Grandpa Malachai wouldn't let anything happen to you before your coronation. I think even Uncle Percy would be forced to step in if someone tried something."

That was a good point. Trying to prevent me from winning the succession war made sense. I was an enemy, and having me in charge would be a problem. But once that was actually DONE? Now we were all one big happy family. The name of the game was get along to go along. I was the Wishmaster, or would be soon, and killing me NOW would be going against the old man and Aiden both, which could be described as a particularly elaborate and masochistic form of suicide.

She put a hand on my arm. "Hey, we'll tell mom and dad when we get home. They'll stick close on the trip. Mom is going to be bringing a few of the uncles with us to the coronation, and a couple A-rankers are coming along. We'll be safe as houses, especially with grandma and grandpa there."

"I…" I trailed off in embarrassment. "I kind of thought the old man might come. Like I wasn't COUNTING on it or anything. But I'm his successor, right? I mean I know I'll be meeting him soon, but I figured he would be at my coronation."

Neither of them knew what to say, and Bethy appeared to be practicing her blood flame again, which was a whole other thing I didn't want to think about. Eventually, I felt an influx of stats start to roll in. I held it back for a moment. "Stand back guys, this might be a little overwhelming.

Wishmaster candidate status. C-rank. Ability: Grandmaster Wish- Nine times a day grant a Grandmaster wish in return for proper compensation. Wish must be feasibly achievable by the candidate's own efforts within a three day period with current statistics.

Grandmaster Path of the Doom Sovereign- A Solid Path toward a great destiny.

Wishmaster candidate points-1000

Might-320,923

Impact-155

Fantasy-205,750

Vitality-290,156

Focus-298,645

Perception-297,614

Creation-202,371

Progress to next rank:1,615,614/10,000,000

Soul strength- Tanzanite Soul Body

Chronicle: Ten Demons Tome (pages bound:1)

wish scrolls stockpiled: 0 (5 in the possession of friends to be used over time)

Bonded companion: Archimedes (Life Nova Phoenix)

Weapon: Ten Demons Tree (reincarnation tree staff that lets him simulate alternate lives to perfect his forms, and when combined with the library lets him simulate and deduce techniques in a process called the "Wisdom of Solomon")

Financial resources: 0 B-ranked, 0 C-ranked, 0 D-ranked(worth 100 E-ranked, past master rank is a watershed)

Skills: Grandmaster Path of the Doom Sovereign, Lesser Valtek Mastery, Grandmastery of Cooking, Lesser Inventing Mastery, Beginner Balam Mastery, Minor Fire Manipulation Mastery, Minor Piano Mastery, Minor Guitar Mastery, Minor First Aid Mastery, Grandmaster Angelic Bond, Expert Dust Construction Mastery

DS Subskills. Monk: Stone Limb, Moonlit Night, Consecration of Flame, Ripple Running, State of Grace, Steam Arrow, Afterburner, Pit of Despair, Mountain Stance, Heart over Body

Rogue: Mercy Kill, Double Trouble, Touch of Tears, Flurry of Blows, Heavy hands, Marked for Death, False Fatality, Blood Curse, Creeping Darkness, Final Strike

Diviner: Overlay, Song of the Soil, Rhythm of the Wild, Eye of Revelation, Danger Sense, Piece of Mind, Scent of Truth, Empty Spirit

Goetia Staff Art:

First form- Belial. Touch of Tears, Stone Limb, Consecration of Flames

Techniques: Abomination Engine- uses Mephistopheles flame to supercharge the magmatic body of Belial, creating a demonic machine of pure destruction

Second Form- Mephistopheles. Consecration of Flame, Afterburner, Mercy Kill, Marked for Death.

Techniques: Cosmic Collapse: condensed sphere of black flame that explodes out one side amplifying force. Mephisto's Waltz: Movement technique, Damnatio Memoriae: causes the ground iself to dissolve best used on mountains to cause avalanches

Circle of Damnation: defensive technique through destruction

T

Third form- Mornax. Stone Limb, Triple Strength Density Shifting (x10 F-rank stored attacks), Mountain Stance

Fourth form - Zagan. Heal Burst, Purifying Flame, Consecration of Flame, Afterburner

Techniques: Life Nova, purifying and healing version of Cosmic Collapse.Genesis Burst: enhanced version of Life Nova designed to repair soul damage.

Fifth form- Bael. Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation (inverted), Afterburner (full effectiveness is seven times base Perception due to stacking, can only currently stack a single stat, unlike wish power which stacks them all)

Sixth form- Beelzebub. Piece of Mind, Stone Limb, Dust Construction, Shadow Clone. Create twelve copies (thirteen versions total) of Shane, each copy able to use a single form without straining Shane's soul past the strain of the original technique, which is only slightly more of a strain than a normal form and still allows one additional form to be used without overstraining. Can't remote control the forms, but can communicate with them remotely via telepathy principles from Paired Dueling. Might and Perception stacking, most versatile and well designed form yet.

Seventh form- Agares. Pit of Despair, Dust Construction, Stone Limb, Shadow Manipulation, Afterburner. Ability to mold and shape the earth, into black liquid tar, solid abyssal stone, or burning ash

Eighth form- Dantalion. Eye of Revelation, Overlay, Song of the Soil, Scent of Truth, Danger Sense, Piece of Mind, Rhthym of the Wild, Afterburner

Ninth form- Sammael. Baseline of angel trait, energy source: Enshrining Darkness. A more powerful baseline that acts as a foundation for all the other forms, allowing them to reach their true power. Amplified by the angelic bond.

Pseudo Domain: First Circle of Hell- Limbo. Belial, Mephistopheles, Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation. A psuedo Domain of confusion and mental manipulation, distorting the senses and controlling the body.

Recreated version: Piece of Mind, Overlay, Belial and Mephistopheles, Moonlit Night, Eye of Revelation. Uses Piece of Mind as it was meant to be used, to parse multiple timelines for Mephistopheles to destroy, forcing the victim to conform to a specific future.

Second Circle of Hell: Gluttony. Mephistopeheles, Mornax, Dark Reflection, False Fatality. Reinforces the body and uses the damage redirection skills to shift damage and pain into the pit of destruction in the stomach, consuming attacks to break them down for power. Can be used to fuel Abomination Engine.

Third Circle of Hell: Wrath. Mephistopheles and Agares. Creates an all consuming lake of burning dark ash infused with the fire of destruction.

Thirteenth Circle of Hell: Pride. The infernal library of techniques that serves as the foundation of the infernal realm. Deduce, refine, and perfect techniques. Refine and perfect Skills, albeit more slowly, and still requires a foundation of knowledge.

Fourth circle of Hell: Retribution. Dark Reflection, False Fatality, Gluttony to stockpile, Afterburner, Abomination Engine. Collects all the damage done to fuel Gluttony and inflicts it on the enemy.

Fifth circle of Hell: Murmur. Bael, Dantalion. Use Dantalion's overwhelming information gathering powers to more deeply eliminate traces of passage through Bael's perfected stealth.

Sixth circle of hell:Leviathan. Zagan, Promethean Fire Soul Body. complete immunity to mental attacks below B-rank, enhancement to purification of internal corruption.

Seventh circle of hell: Behemoth. Agares and Mornax. Creates limbs of constructs of invincible rock.

Eighth circle of hell: Glory. Sammael,Mephistopheles, then Mornax and Agares, added some heretic fire, threw in Afterburner. Creates a seven foot behemoth of infused stone and turns the staff into a halberd to create a single combat capable battle form.

Ninth circle of hell: Abbadon. Mornax at B-rank, Heart over Body, Beelzebub+ 12 instances Zagan

I grunted as the weight of the power smashed down on me. About five hundred thousand, almost half of my current stockpile. More than a hundred and seventy thousand of that was from the scrolls, mostly funneled into Creation and Fantasy, which had been smart, because they were STILL my lowest stats, and by a much wider margin now.

My highest, of course, was Might, but to my surprise, Perception and Focus had both skyrocketed. Presumably figuring out the Void's plan and being smart enough to counter it had both given me a reputation among my subjects for intelligence. Maybe the boost would help me stop being so damned impulsive all the time. I'd honestly welcome a reprieve from what I chose to believe was recursion.

I'd netted almost a hundred and thirty thousand points each in those two stats, which was staggering when you considered that SIX MONTHS of scrolls had only been about a hundred and seventy thousand total.

Using the trick I'd learned from her earlier, I let Callie get a peak at the purple flames rolling across my vision, and I smiled proudly as she whistled. "That's not bad," she said appreciatively. I kind of expected more, though."

"The ceremony was low key," I shrugged. "All the big name players are going to be coming to the coronation. Once I gain my title, the word goes out, and I become the Wishmaster in truth. Remember when we were on Callus? None of us knew who the Wishmaster's HEIR was. We just knew the office. This is just a taste of what's to come." I winked at her. "So you better get serious if you want to keep up."

She held up a hand, a ball of blue fire rippling up from it. "I wouldn't worry about that. I've got a whole new bag of tricks. Once we're back to your parents house I think I'm going to see if Abel will give me some pointers. Can't think of anyone better to teach me to use space flames."

That was a good point. I couldn't wait to see what she could do. For now though, I just got up and stretched widely. "Damn, that was rough though. Fifty percent stat gain. Glad it wasn't more, actually. I'd have been laid up for a week." The door opened, and Isaac stepped back inside, nodding to me as he headed back to his desk. "Hope that was helpful," I told him with a grin. "But now, I think it's time for us to go."

He smiled solemnly. "You remind me quite a bit of your grandfather. I'll give you the same advice I'd give him. Be careful, Shane. The moments when we feel most in control are often the moments when we're closest to losing our grip." And with that ominous declaration, he lowered his gaze to the papers on his desk, essentially dismissing us. Why did old Ascendants always have to be so damned cryptic?

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Getting back to my mom's estate didn't take much work to arrange. We could have taken a shuttle, but after some deliberation we decided to fly back. The angels, Callie, Bethy and I all had wings, but my sister didn't, so Sera and Holly took one arm each and carried her. Bethy seemed mildly put out by that fact, and insisted on doing it herself, but Chelsea found her offer of "whooshing around on a cloud of bats" less than enticing so the sisters did it.


One of the things I hadn't noticed about the tower until we got back up to the top was how perfectly situated it was for flight. Like yes, it was huge and mostly surrounded by empty airspace, but it was more than that. The placement made it easy to see clear flight paths to several major cities, and finding the route back was simple enough.


"You ready?" I asked Chelsea as we all stood up at the top of the tower. "Flying is pretty wild, but being carried like this might be scary at first. Don't worry about falling though, I have plenty of ways to catch you."


She snorted with amusement. "I'm not worried. Bethy won't let me fall even if you do." Despite her verbal certainty, however, I saw a bit of concern. I hummed with consideration.


"Actually, what if you could fly yourself?" I asked slowly. "Your diagram can combine things right? Opposites? Well you and I ARE twins. Sammael's black flame is pretty much diametrically opposed to the white flame of purification. Do you think you could use the diagram to trigger your own angelic form if I helped?"


She bit her lip. "Maybe?" she hedged. "I mean, I have a Solid Path for it, but not a Chronicle. I'm still D-rank too. It might be too much for me to affect."


"Try using it on me," I told her. "I'll do my best to help. I have a few ideas."


Chelsea was my twin sister. That was a bond. Maybe not the same as the one I had with Callie, but the Skill was angelic bond not wife bond. If she could get partway there, I might be able to use our blood connection to push the connection to where I needed it to be. She closed her eyes, and above her head, the diagram rotated into existence. White flame blazed over her fingers as she clenched her fists, and I felt the connection attempt to form.


It wasn't going to work. I was a C-ranker, and Sammael was a potent form, it was too much for her diagram…normally. Focusing on our blood tie, I wrapped it around the Angelic Bond Skill, using that to connect our souls temporarily, and then using that connection, I triggered my staff's upgrade ability. I pushed her diagram Skill up a rank, and as soon as it hit C-rank, our blood tie, the angelic bond, and the balance between our abilities all clicked together and.."Oh!"


Opening my eyes, I grinned at the downy white wings spreading from my sister's back. She blinked, flapping them once. Then again. "Man that's weird," she said slowly. "It's like I have a pair of really clumsy new arms I didn't have before."


"It's temporary," I reminded her. "This is straining my Chronicle. Not enough to do any damage, but enough that I won't be able to hold it for more than an hour or two."


She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get that. It's…interesting. I wonder if I can create my own version. I have a few ideas, but for now…we're going flying right? Why don't you show me around the sky, little brother?"


I rolled my eyes at that last bit, unwilling to get into a 'who was born first' argument, but jumped up on the battlements, spreading my wings. "Flying is easy," I told her authoritatively. "It's just falling with style. Lean forward, spread your wings and…" I let myself drop, my wings catching the wind as I pitched forward. I was aimed down, so I fell at an angle, sort of a dive. I pulled in to steepen it, spun, and then used my momentum in a sort of swoop to slingshot myself back up into the air.


My wings were wrapped up with my subskills, one of which was state of grace, which meant that the restrictions of gravity were more like suggestions to me, so my navigation was smooth and easy, but Chelsea's wings were a counterbalance of Sammael, so she was probably in the same boat.


I shot past them on my upswing, then spread my wings wide as I reached the peak, hovering in the air above them as I grinned down at my sister. "Like that. Give it a shot."


Snorting in challenge, Chelsea got a running start and threw herself off the tower, wings spread…and proceeded to plummet like a rock. Cursing, I shot down after her, grabbing the back of her shirt and letting state of grace establish itself on her. Guess that answered that question.


Holly and Sera shot down and snagged her arms, pulling her up to the battlement again and setting her down. I landed and shook my head. "Ok, that was my bad. This was more intuitive for me. Now, what you did there was wrong. You let your whole weight drop right on top of your wings. Like the flying version of a belly flop."


Spreading my feathers out behind me, I indicated the structure. "When you fly, you're not holding yourself up with wing strength. That's tiring and counterproductive. Like I said, falling with style. You need to use your wings to guide yourself into a sort of smooth forward motion. Don't try to hover. What I did a minute ago was sort of cheating, and I can see how you would take the wrong lesson from that. But you want to be in constant motion."


"It helps to think of it like swimming," Holly added. "When you're in the water, you use forward momentum to keep from sinking. You CAN just float, but not everyone is able to do that. For a lot of people, they need to paddle hard or do a backstroke or something to keep from sinking. Gravity is dragging you down, so don't fight it, just help it decide where to drag."


She leapt forward, wings catching, and smoothly glided out into the open air, doing a slow, lazy half circle and coming back. "See? Nothing to it."


Callie nodded. "She's right. One of the big problems I had with learning to fly was fighting the urge to stop trying to just overpower the air with my wings. Flight isn't a battle. The air isn't your enemy, it's your partner." She glanced back at her new wings. "Of course, I can't really be much help as I am now. Flying with six wings is way different than two. Honestly I expected to have trouble with it, but it just sort of came naturally."


"It's your trait," explained Holly. "You have natural instincts for flight. I have no idea how Shane adjusted so quickly to his wings."


I did. State of grace. But I couldn't share that with Chelsea, so it wasn't useful here, so I just shrugged. "Just a talent. But you're doing fine. You tried to do it wrong, but the actual process of spreading your wings and flying was pretty smooth. Your technique just needs a little work."


After a few more attempts, Chelsea was able to get her sea legs (sky wings?) and we were off to the races. The feeling of weightlessness as we jumped from the tower was…indescribable. No matter how many times I flew, I'd never really get used to it. The sense of freedom that came with having wings was unlike anything else in the world. Being an Ascendant let you do so many amazing things, but even high ranked Ascendants could only fly on planets at or around their own rank. With wings though, I could touch these skies that only A-rankers should be able to traverse in a way that had nothing to do with bloodlines or wishes.


In some ways, Sammael was my crowning achievement. Of all my strange and amazing forms, that one was the one I was most proud of. Because I made it myself. I studied the trait the angels had and created something completely unique.


Callie's original trait was based on Sammael too, as was her Archangel trait, indirectly. I knew that her new Adherent Archangel form made her feel the same way. THe indescribable pride of taking the tools she was born with and turning something powerful into something truly unique that belonged only to her.


Drifting across the sky, I reached out and took her hand, the two of us flying together, eternity stretched out below us like a tapestry of tumbling time, an endless riot of possibilities falling away as we soared above the world together.


Her hand squeezed mine tightly, and I felt the love and peaceful joy that washed through our bond.


"Ewww can you NOT right now?" Yelled my sister from not far away. "I'm CONNECTED to that. I'm glad you two are so happy together, but EXPERIENCING it personally is…deeply unsettling."


I laughed, and Callie tightened the bond to cut off the flow of adoration. She didn't say anything to Chelsea though. Having to be a witness to someone's deepest emotions sounded uncomfortable to me too. I'd honestly forgotten she was even connected to the bond. Another reason not to do this again too often.


For now though, I couldn't help but enjoy the sights and sounds of soaring above the clouds. "This is so cool!" Bethy shrieked happily as she glided along behind us on her wings. "I've flown as a bat before, but this is totally different. I feel like I'm back on that crazy glider thing from the Moonsong Glade!" She laughed happily, twirling in midair in a way I wasn't sure I could have managed myself, arms spread in joy like she was embracing the sky.


I'd forgotten that day. Gliding off the top of a mountain that turned out to be the hand of a dead god. It was amazing to me how far we'd come since then, and how far we still had to go.


Seraph was beautiful, and the rolling hills and shining oceans skimmed beneath us as we flew, making pretty good time through the air. Finally though, we came upon the specific city we'd been heading for. The capital of Seraph, Elion. And on the second tallest mountain, a shining golden edifice of power and protection, my mother's estate.


We banked toward it, and while we were still over the ocean, I dove down to skim over the water, letting my fingers drag in the surf as I blurred along the surface before pulling up hard and shooting off into the air.


The others followed suit, doing some fun tricks and just generally enjoying themselves until we passed the water, at which point we headed for the estate directly.


My mother was waiting for us when we arrived, and as soon as we touched down she hurried forward to sweep us all into tight hugs "There you are! It's our last family dinner before leave, I was afraid you'd miss it." She reached up to tug at me windswept hair. "Oh, honestly Shane, we need to get you a helmet. Or a haircut."


"I like it long," Callie preened as she reached up to run her fingers through my nearly shoulder length locks. "And a helmet feels a little stiff. Maybe a crown? Or would that be too on the nose."


"No helmets," I said bluntly. "I don't want hat hair. And a crown is too much. My hair is fine the way it i- hey, where are you going? I'm not finished talking yet!" The two of them turned and strolled away, chatting about my current aesthetic, and I just sighed and followed behind them. Whatever, it wasn't like they could make me wear anything I didn't want. Now I just had to wait for dinner and goodbyes to distract them.

 

[drake_azathoth]

Next chapter: The crown wasn't so bad really...

Looking forward to Chelsea leveling up a bit.

 

[Hyperion47]

Whatever, it wasn't like they could make me wear anything I didn't want. Now I just had to wait for dinner and goodbyes to distract them.

Click to shrink...

Oh shane,those are fighting words.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Dinner was a busy affair. Everyone from the family who lived nearby had shown up to see us off. My Uncle Anders had brought his daughters Sonya and Lara, who were losing their minds over the fact that Bethy was at the dinner. They were younger than I had been at the beginning of my journey, only fifteen or sixteen, and were HUGE fans of her music.


"I can't believe you know Lady Nightmask," Sonya gushed excitedly. My younger cousin was a redhead with bright green eyes. Her dimples made her eyes look bigger and more expressive, and she was enthusiastic about everything, though this was another level entirely.


Lara, the older one, had dark hair and calm blue eyes. She wasn't as excitable, but had still been welcoming to all of us when we arrived. While she wasn't melting down like Sonya, it was clear she was a little starstruck by Bethy. "I find your music so inspirational. I'm sorry to see you go, but I'm sure you'll accomplish great things, Lady Bethany. I'm curious though, where have the proceeds from your concerts gone? Are you saving for something?"


To my surprise, Bethy's face smoothed out into a serious expression. "I've been dedicating it to research, actually." She said quietly. "My…dietary preferences, are a big source of frustration for me. I've been working on removing them as an issue."


"Wait…you're trying to CURE your need to drink blood?" I asked her in confusion. "That's got to be a complicated process. Like doing brain surgery on your own trait. Do you need any help?"


"Nah," she said with a wide smile. "I'm not doing anything that crazy. I'm not all good at that stuff like you are. I'm sticking to what I know. I've been trying to create a type of wine that can replace blood for vampires."


Given what I'd seen Bethy DO with wine that wasn't as farfetched as one might think. Callie seemed to agree. She leaned forward with interest. "How are you planning to do that? I know you have to feed from thralls or cause pain. Is there some method of mixing non thrall blood with the wine that like…infuses it with what you need without having to drink from thralls?"


"Not exactly," Bethy said excitedly, her eyes lighting up with passion as she got to discuss her project. "See, taking blood and mixing it with wine doesn't work. The wine dilutes the vital essence. It's sort of complicated, but in order to create a wine that can substitute for blood I need a way to make the wine itself alive when I make it."


Chelsea lit up. "Her solution is GENIUS. Tell them what you did!" Apparently my sister had been in on the plans. Not a surprise considering she, Bethy, and Gabe spent all their time together, especially with the angels following Callie the last few months.


Bethy shrugged modestly. "Well I was thinking about what the wine needed, and I realized that to be living wine it needs to come from living grapes. Then I got to thinking, grapes are red and grow on vines, which are KIND of like a circulatory system. So I got in touch with some local botanists and began working with them on repurposing a grape vine into a living plant with a circulatory system. Literally, a thrall vine."


"Wait…" Callie said slowly. "You made VAMPIRIC grapes?"


"Thrall grapes," Bethy corrected. "Vampiric grapes would just DRINK blood, which would defeat the whole purpose. But the living grapes can be carefully collected and pressed into a special wine that has shown real promise as a blood substitute. The only issue I keep running into is that I can't grow ENOUGH of the grapes. And the blood used has to be VERY specific."


It had been a long time since I'd been involved in any of the more physical sides of crafting. My Dust Construction Skill had been largely folded into Agares, and I'd all but abandoned enchanting. I did a lot of crafting of forms, techniques, and even skills sometimes, but it wasn't the same.


Bethy was clearly working with physical mediums in a unique and fascinating way, and I was intrigued. "What are the requirements?" I asked her with interest.


"Well, the blood needs to come from a thrall," she said, ticking off her fingers as she listed. "The thrall needs to be at my own rank or higher. But not too much higher, because then I won't be able to make the wine. Also, the blood needs to be circulating. So there has to be a heart in the root system to pump it through the vines. I've managed to create a small vine, but to support a larger orchard we need a bigger heart."


Chelsea nodded. "We got the one we're using from dad. Bethy was able to transfuse it to change the blood circulation to an essence signature matching a thrall. Dayna donated a bunch of blood. Not too much at once, of course."


I blinked at her. "Wait…DAYNA? Dayna is here? I didn't see her when we made the trip?"


"She's been living in my Domain," Bethy explained. "Your dad suggested I bring her. He's got the soul of that Heaven Murder Elf bound and he's been using it to teach her. I think because I spend so much time with Chelsea he considers Dayna to be like a secondary bodyguard to her. Anyway, we found a Blade Bat heart that we were able to use as a basis for a root system. The energy signature from Dayna's blood was close enough to function. But for a bigger animal, and bigger vine patches, it gets more complicated."


"And you're not using wishes?" I asked nonchalantly. "Because it seems like you could have skipped a few steps."


She shook her head. "No. In order to make the wine work I need to be involved in every step of the process. It's…personal. I'd have totally asked if I needed help though." She winked and gave me a thumbs up. "Don't you worry about a thing, bestie. I got this."


Sonya, who had apparently gotten bored with shop talk, turned to beam at me. "Oh, hey I heard daddy is going with you guys for your whole conjuration thing."


"Coronation, Sonya," sighed Lara helplessly. "It's a CORONATION. It's a ceremony that involves the crowning of a ruler. Because he's going to be the WISHMASTER. We've told you this like six times.


"And I told YOU that's stupid," my cousin said waspishly. "Because the Wishmaster is a god like great grandpa. Shane is pretty cool but he's totally not a god."


I laughed at that. "She's got me there. The Wishmaster isn't just a person. It's also a job. The old Wishmaster retired ages ago, and there have been a bunch since then. I just got picked to be the next one."


The fact that she didn't get the concept of the hereditary Wishmaster title wasn't strange. Sonya grew up in the heart of the Church, where her great grandfather was the ONLY Red Revenant and was not even remotely replaceable. The Wishmaster's businesslike approach to inheriting the title was pretty atypical among the major factions. In fact, as far as I knew the old man was the only god to pass on his title. The rest were all being directly governed by an active deity.


In fact, I wondered if that was why the WCP wasn't actually considered part of the five faction alliance. There were six gods, and that was widely acknowledged, but the alliance excluded one of the divine forces. I'd always been told that was because the WCP was more diffuse, but maybe there was more to it than just lacking a location.


"So it's Uncle Eric and Uncle Sam?" I asked them with interest. "I thought we'd be bringing more A-rankers."


My mother, who had been sitting nearby talking to my Uncle's wife Tara, turned to chuckle at me. "That's what happens when you don't pay attention. I told you that each faction his a limited number of high rank slots. My parents are burning up two of ours, as are your father and I, and finally two of my brothers. Not to mention Ezekial, Sebastian, and whoever else comes, because as the Wishmaster, you don't get your own slots since its assumed that all of the WCP are your subordinates."


"Yeah, that sounds like the kind of political nonsense they would spout," I sighed. "What about S-rankers? We have a few more we could invite. What about Bethy's dad and dad's boss?"


"Adramalech declined," she said with a grimace. "He's nominally a member of the Faerie Queen's camp, and she and your ancestor don't get along. They're not ENEMIES, exactly, but fae are careful about entering Wishworld."


My eyes widened. "Wishworld…wait…is the coronation being held in the VOID?"


"Not as such," she assured me. "Wishworld, like all the godworlds of the six, has some overlap with realspace. It's why the six eliminated the vanished gods to begin with. Too many beachheads into realspace and the universe Ascends. The majority of Wishworld is in the Void, but it's anchored to realspace, and we're going to be receiving visitors in the welcome palace, which is in the physical portion of the godworld."


"Is that why the old man isn't coming?" I asked suspiciously. "Because he doesn't want to enter realspace?"


My dad had been listening quietly from the other side of her, but he shook his head. "No. The ancestor doesn't attend coronations. Part of his retirement was an agreement to distance himself from politics. If he shows up at your coronation, it'll be seen as a sign of support for your ascension to the office. He DIDN'T do that last time, or the time before. It'll piss off the branches affiliated with previous candidates for no reason."


"But I thought gods basically WERE their godworlds," I pushed. "Wouldn't he be there anyway, perceiving it all through his connection to the world?"


"Not exactly. Wishworld is massive. It covers a whole galaxy's worth of space, pretty much." He slowed down, choosing his words carefully. "He can be anywhere within its borders instantly, can perceive anything when his attention is focused. But he DOES need to focus. He usually doesn't bother. Not to mention we're at war, both in the Void and in realspace he's actively countering the influence of other gods. Don't look at your great grandmother as a typical deity. Black Sorrow's habit of manifesting avatars outside of her Domain is uncommon."


I wasn't even sure she'd done that. Callus bordered Black Sorrow Cult Space. I wasn't sure where her Domain WAS exactly, so she might have just been operating inside it the first time we met. As for the second time…well, that had been a special occasion, the death of a god.


Still, I was a little sad I wouldn't see the old man there. I'd just have to take his measure when I met him in person the first time. I had to admit, I was curious what this ancient deity, from whom so much of my power came, was really like. Not just my wish ability, but Pride, my most useful pseudo Domain, came from the Great Book Heavenly Library my dad had reverse engineered from the old man. I thought about it for the rest of the meal as we talked and ate and enjoyed each other's company. When we finally finished eating, I let myself go quiet as I considered what I might be in for as we headed back to our rooms, but I felt myself stopped by a hand on my elbow.


My mom, seeing my contemplation, smiled at me and squeezed my arm. "Don't expect too much from the Wishmaster," she told me softly. "He's been alive a long time, and he's not human in a lot of ways that might surprise you. He might look like a human, and talk like one, but never forget that you're basically looking at a concept in the shape of a person. Wishes aren't known for being forgiving or compassionate. If you slip up, he'll exploit it. Just…be yourself. Slow and steady. And everything will be fine." And with that ominous proclamation, she let me go.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Finally, the last day or two passed, and it was time to go. I had to admit, I was nervous. Coming here had been amazing. Feeling the warmth of family, spending my days relaxing, I had learned and grown so much in ways that weren't possible to track on my stat sheet. But now…now it was time to go back to the real world, where the kind of growth I'd need was ONLY the kind that showed up on my stat sheet.

The closer I'd gotten to this day, the more afraid I'd become. Not that I would die, or be destroyed, or what have you. Afraid that I'd never get this back again. That I'd never just be able to live in peace with my family.

Despite how many friends I'd had, and how much Zeke had cared about me growing up, this was…new. You don't know what you don't know, and I hadn't understood what having a normal (for certain definitions of that term) life was really like until now. Part of me didn't want to leave. But…I knew that part of me wasn't real. I was scared, hiding behind the familiar and considering burying my head in the sand because it would be easy.

Which is why I wasn't going to do it. I gathered my friends and family at the landing pad where the Acheron waited. "So," I asked my dad as we all gathered together. "How do we get to Wishworld? I've never BEEN to a godworld before, but aren't they anchored in specific galaxies? Like great grandma can only manifest inside Black Sorrow territory easily, right?"

He made a contemplative sound. "You could say that. But also not. Space in the Void is more…fluid than realspace. There are several methods for constructing a world there. Some are condensed, solid spherical constructs like a planet that occupy fixed locations in realspace. Some are mobile. Wishworld is…sort of a combination of the two. Different points in the Void correlate to different points in realspace. That's how the Vanished gods are able to travel there so easily.

"Of course, there are other ways to travel in the Void besides teleporters," he amended. "But the Roads of Void are complicated and difficult to navigate. They've been closed for centuries, and the insides are infested with Void spawn."

I waved my hand to indicate that he should move it along. "Right, so HOW is something both stationary and mobile?"

"It's not exactly," he admitted. "It's more…diffuse. Because of the nature of the Void, traveling even a few feet in one direction can bring you miles away in realspace. The old man took advantage of this and created his world in a highly irregular shape. Because of the odd construction, it connects to many WCP Branches in different galaxies rather than just being a big lump of expanded space that overlays a single area."

I imagined a kind of giant twisty starfish made of clear tubes…which was probably not an accurate representation of what the Void was like, but it made me smile.

"So we need to head for a nearby Branch?" I asked with interest. "Are there any in the Holy Dominion?" I didn't actually know what the situation of dispersion was like for the WCP inside the various powers, only that they had permission to establish locations. The Holy Dominion though, was the core of the Church's territory, so I cloud understand if they didn't want us around."

"Yes, but that's not where we're going," he said with a grin. "The old man is a visionary. Connecting the Wishworld to a few high ranking branches is great, but he wanted more than that. He wanted shipping routes. The Wishworld doesn't just connect to realspace at those branches, there are several connection points that allow easy travel into a variety of faction territories. There's a reason the WCP is the only universe spanning faction, and it's not JUST that we have more S-rankers."

That was…brilliant. Using the Void to travel with teleporters like the vanished gods did was useful and scary, but it was temporary. For a god to build their whole world around the concept of tactical and financial flexibility. "Is that even possible?" I asked in astonishment. "Creating some kind of unnatural spatial construct like that to hang in the Void?"

"It is," Callie said as she sidled up next to me. "Hey hon, sorry I'm late. I was helping Bethy uproot her grapes and transplant them into her Domain. She doesn't want to lose her progress."

My dad hummed with interest. "It's fascinating research. A bit niche, but I could think of quite a few alternate applications. Bethany is a brilliant girl. Strange and occasionally frustrating, but brilliant. You're lucky to have her on your side."

"Don't I know it," I chuckled. "But what were you saying about the Wishworld, Cal?"

"That it's possible to make a Void construct like that," she clarified. "I mean, I couldn't. Not yet. But with my Adherent Fire, I've started to pick up some interesting information about the Void. Like did you know that technically Domains are personalized Void shallows anchored to a human soul?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but came up short. I hadn't known that…but it made a weird amount of sense. God worlds were anchored in the Void, and almost all spatial effects touched on the Void, so it logically followed that Domains were at least partially in the Void.

The sheer scope of what the old man could do was staggering, and I wondered how much of it was from the library. Like he was obviously deeply gifted before that since he created it, but still, the idea that I might someday be able to do something similar (despite the differences in the expression of our powers) was pretty intoxicating.

We all filed into the ship, and Callie and I headed for the bridge to check in and to hopefully get a view outside the ship. I wanted to see what these connecting points looked like.

Watching Seraph fall away was bittersweet. Even as we left I could feel the shackles of caution and homesickness that had been pinning me down earlier loosen in the face of the call of adventure. A new world. More family I hadn't met. Power and influence and a great quest only I could undertake. My heart was starting to race a little. Callie had been right, I'd been going stir crazy already and had been in denial. I'd miss my family but this was going to be fun.

"How far out are we?" I asked my dad as we all lined up in the bridge of the Acheron. My grandparents and uncles were there, along with Zeke.

"Not far," he smiled. "You know how fast this ship is. There's an entrance a few systems over. I'd say at top speed we'll make it in an hour, maybe a bit less. Assuming we are going at top speed?" He shot a questioning look to my grandmother, who sighed.

"We are," she said in a sad tone. "I'd hoped we might have a bit of time to sightsee, we're passing through the Elohim cluster, and it's so very beautiful." she shot Zeke a grin. "My new apprentice only left her home planet a few months ago, and I think she ought to see the sights in the greater universe. You should look into that."

My Uncle, well used to this ribbing since Stella had started studying under my grandmother, just rolled his eyes. "If I wanted to hear from someone's mother about my relationship I would still be in contact with mine. Why must you hound me?"

"Because Stella is one of my disciples now," she said gently. "And because you raised my grandson. Like it or not, you're family, boy, and that comes with as many demerits as it does perks." Despite the harsh words, her tone was warm and welcoming, and I could have sworn I saw Zeke's lips twitch slightly.

Stella herself, who had become almost pathologically quiet since arriving on Seraph, cleared her throat. "I appreciate the thought, Master, but I really would prefer you let me handle matters in my own relationship."

My mom cackled in glee. "Hah! You tell her. She spent years hounding me about my relationship with Eli. Don't let her get away with that!"

"YOU ran off with a degenerate and left us all worried sick," my grandmother snapped. Then she smiled at me apologetically. "No offense, Shane. You know we love you and your sister, and we wouldn't have you if that never happened, but at the time it was quite jarring."

My dad raised an eyebrow. "What about me? Don't I get a no offense?"

"You can be offended if you like," Celine said with a shrug. "I'm not YOUR grandmother. Though I will say I've grown to see your value over the years. Doesn't mean I'm not still unhappy that you absconded with my daughter."

"He did not ABSCOND with me, mother," my mom said with an exasperated groan. "I was an ADULT and I left home."

My grandmother's eyes narrowed. "You didn't even leave a NOTE. You sent a message back after the fact. I-" she closed her eyes, cutting herself off with a sigh. "No. No that's not productive, it's ancient history. You're right. I only meant to tease. We like you perfectly well now Elijah."

"Yes," my dad said dryly. "I could FEEL the love during my visit."

She shrugged. "That wasn't US. You're a devil. You ought to have assumed there would be some friction in the Holy Dominion. Besides, it was just a couple of pointed looks and unsubtle comments. We made sure no one tried anything."

My mom looked sorry she'd brought it up, but oddly, the whole experience seemed to have acted as an icebreaker. Everyone split up to talk amongst themselves, and I dropped into the chair next to my grandfather. "Hey, you excited to see some old friends?"

"Is this where you make a joke about how all my friends are old?" he said wryly.

"No," I lied unconvincingly. "I wasn't going to say that." He stared at me flatly until I grinned and admitted. "Ok, I was. But it was right there." We bantered for a bit, and it was nice. Just comfortable back and forth with family. It helped keep my mind off the trip, though I only needed that because I was so impatient to see-

"We're here," a voice interrupted my reverie. I turned to see my dad standing next to us, staring up at a floating holo screen in the air displaying…I blinked. "Is that…a door?" I asked incredulously. "Just floating in space?"

It was a rhetorical question. The doors were FAR too large to mistake for anything else. A huge pair of double doors made of black metal, criss crossed with heavy looking chains. Under the chains, a skull inside of a lamp emblazoned the surface of the barrier. Its eyes were locked on us, or at least looked like they were, glowing the same eerie purple as my lightning and the flames of my stat page.

Along the length of the chains, similar light flickered in the shape of complicated symbols. My dad smiled. "It is," he said with a laugh. "But it's safer than it looks. No one but a Wyndham can see it. The chains cloak it, as well as keeping unwanted visitors out."

I nodded in awe. "Yeah, I can see why you'd need to. The damned doors are huge. How do we get inside though? Do we have to unlock them? Is there a key?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said, a bit smugly. You should be feeling it already. I can't open it anymore. Not since my trait altered my bloodline." Sure enough, as we approached, I felt a sort of buzz inside my head, like something was trying to make contact. "Go ahead then Shane. Request permission to enter your kingdom." So, with a slight flex of my will…I did.

 

[Bezarius]

Congrats for 1000 Chapter of the story.

 

[Vongrak]

I've finally caught up! I was a bit annoyed that it felt like I HAD to read to catch up (which is silly because it's not like the story is going away. The books are right there. It still felt like that though). Despite that, this story is still amazing. Inspiring for my own writing even if I haven't quite started that story yet.

Anyway. Just a weird thought. The old man, specifically known for pretending to be low ranking staff and theoretically "being" the entire segment of the realm... won't be there. I very much DOUBT it. Though the question of if he'll bother helping is a different one.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I've finally caught up! I was a bit annoyed that it felt like I HAD to read to catch up (which is silly because it's not like the story is going away. The books are right there. It still felt like that though). Despite that, this story is still amazing. Inspiring for my own writing even if I haven't quite started that story yet.

Anyway. Just a weird thought. The old man, specifically known for pretending to be low ranking staff and theoretically "being" the entire segment of the realm... won't be there. I very much DOUBT it. Though the question of if he'll bother helping is a different one.

Click to shrink...

He's IN the Wishworld, he just doesn't bother interacting with the political structures of the WCP anymore. Like Shane is going to be meeting him. But he doesn't have time to handhold the council. He honestly has no real interest in what they do as long as they leave him alone and let him research lol.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Reaching out to the gate was an odd experience. It was a bit like calling for my soul weapon, but also not. For one, I could FEEL the doors, and they were much more powerful than my staff was. Something in me though, my bloodline, or maybe my position, seemed to resonate with the massive metal slabs though. I focused hard, and there was a flash of power through those skeletal eye sockets.

The skull, to my surprise, began to open its mouth slowly. Inside the mouth, a slow vortex of purple lightning began to coalesce. It started as just a small spark, rotating faster and faster, collecting power from around itself as it grew, siphoning in energy from the universe.

Grinning, my grandmother's eyes locked on it. "Ah, so THAT'S where we're heading."

"You can't see the door?" I asked her in surprise. "Like, that vortex is in its mouth, you can't see any of the metal?"

"Nope, just the portal. I did hear you two talking about it though." She shrugged. "Wyndam business, right? The Wishmaster is much more powerful than either of my parents. Among the six, the Queen, the Emperor, and the Wishmaster are considered the strongest."

I nodded, having heard that before. "Alright, well if you can see the entrance lets head in." Then I paused. "Wait…why is there a door at all if the skull opens a portal and people can't see it?" The metal was powerful I could feel that, but I didn't see the point.

"If you saw a big door with chains all over it, what would you do to get inside?" my dad asked dryly.

I blinked. "I'd…I'd try to open it. Huh." That was either brilliant or really dickish. Possibly both.

"Yup. Doors don't open. The chains bind the metal to the void so only the portal can allow admission." He chuckled. "If someone DID manage to pry them apart, it wouldn't even reveal the entrance. They'd still need to open a portal into the Void."

Grinning at the old man's deviousness, I nodded to my grandmother, who gestured the pilot forward, into the swirling purple lightning vortex.

Passing through it was…disconcerting. It felt like I was getting vertigo, but with my soul. I'd been through the Void before, but this felt different. It only lasted a moment or two and then the ship rocked and we were through. The purple lightning cleared like clouds parting over a morning sea, and we got our first good look at the Wishworld.

"Well…this is nice," I said dryly. "I mean, I kind of assumed that a godworld would be idealized, but it's nice to know that the old man prefers to go with a more natural feel." The words were pure sarcasm. The place we were currently waiting was a barren wasteland. Cold black rocks under dim blue skies filled with dark clouds. Purple lightning danced in the clouds, but with all the winter shades even that just looked washed out and bleak.

My dad rolled his eyes. "This is an entry path, Shane," he said with an exasperated chuckle. "It's not the Wishworld. It's the outskirts. And it's designed to be inhospitable and hostile. Which is why we should touch down." His eyes flicked nervously up to the clouds. "That lightning isn't a special effect for ambiance. It's a defense system. Shane's presence should cover us, but the ship might be a bit too conspicuous, and the defenses aren't people."

My grandmother grumbled, but nodded to the pilot, who took us down to land on a nearby plateau of dark stone.

Once we touched down, we filed out of the ship and, with a swipe of her hand, my grandmother made it vanish. I assumed she'd pulled it into her Domain. As soon as it vanished, I could see the lightning above flicker slightly and then dim. My dad breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, how do we get to…wherever we're going?" Callie asked as we all headed over to the edge of the plateau to look down into a canyon of black rocks. A canyon I didn't plan to enter, because staring down into the dark I could see faint movement from blurry shapes I couldn't identify. I absolutely did not want any part of those things.

A sardonic voice came from off to one side. "I'll be taking you."

I jumped, both in surprise that someone had approached and in shock at WHO had just spoken. We all turned to stare, taking in the sight of Aiden Wyndham sitting on a rock nearby, looking as bored as I'd ever seen him. "Heya kids," he said in an almost sleepy sounding voice. "Welcome to the Wishworld."

"Aiden," I nodded. "Didn't expect to see you so early. Don't you have better things to do than escort a bunch of children?"

"One would think," he said sardonically. "But this comes from the top. The old man doesn't want any accidents with the Void so active. There's a VERY small chance that a Void entity might have slipped through the barrier when you came in. Plus after we drop them all off at the palace, I'm supposed to escort you to your meeting. Now that you're here…he wants to see you."

My stomach dropped. He wanted to see me. The Wishmaster. My ancestor. That was…intimidating. So intimidating. Like I'd met gods before, but he was the first god involved in my life. The origin of my bloodline.

I'd known I'd be meeting him. He couldn't come to the coronation for political reasons, but he always met with the incoming Wishmaster. Hell he met with promising runners up sometimes. My dad and Zeke had met him. But there was a difference between academically knowing and being aware that I was on the way to a meeting with him.

Aiden seemed to sense my internal conflict. "Don't put him on a pedestal, kid," he advised me. "You'll just end up disappointed. Gods are strange, and often unknowable. Just treat them like natural disasters. If a hurricane is coming, make sure you strap down all your stuff and board up your windows. As long as you prepare properly and treat the situation with respect you'll come out of it fine."

"Respect?" my dad asked wryly. "From you? I didn't think even the old man warranted that."

"I'm contrary, not stupid," Aiden snorted. "Or at least not usually. Winning the succession war in my day might count. You son of a bitch. You couldn't have tried a LITTLE harder? I was so smug when I beat you, then I had to spend years surrounded by sycophants and backstabbers while you ran off and married a holy princess and became a devil. That sounds so fun!"

"Didn't you marry Azazel's daughter?" my dad asked mildly. "Davina is supposed to be an impressive warrior."

For the first time since I met him, Aiden's bored and condescending expression softened. "That she is. Only good part of this job. At least usually. She's pretty gung ho about me doing my duty though. Always killing my fun at work 'Go to your meeting Aiden', 'don't kill the messengers Aiden', 'he's an elder Aiden, you can't light him on fire'. Which was NOT true by the way, that guy went up like a torch."

"I think she maybe meant that you…shouldn't do that?' my mom said dryly.

He shrugged. "Probably. But that's not what she said. Sounded like a challenge to me. Even if she did make me personally host the next ten council sessions to make up for it. Anyway, I'm free now, fuckers. All I have to do is deliver the kid to the big man, wait out the end of the coronation, and then I can retire to the warfront where I can spend my time with my lovely bride, immolating Void spawn en masse. You know, the easy life."

"Damn," I said in disappointment. "That actually does sound really nice. Is being in charge really that bad?"

He opened his mouth but was cut off by my mom shoving a burning finger in his face. "If you make my son any more nervous than he already is, I'm going to kick you off this plateau and into those clouds to see what happens."

Putting his hands up defensively, he glanced at my dad. "I take it back. Only the devil thing sounds fun. My condolences."

"Keep them," my dad said with a wolfish grin. "This is my favorite side of her."

"Excuse me," my grandmother said with a sigh. "As much fun as your posturing is, children, we DO have an occasion to get to. Shane's coronation is almost here, remember? That's why we brought Wilkie." She jerked her thumb at an inconspicuous crew member who had followed us off. "He's going to get the whole thing on camera. Oh, and Shane dear, we were hoping you and Calliope might post for some late wedding pictures. I'm afraid the quality of the ones you gave us was a tad low."

My eyes widened. "Wait…you brought a PHOTOGRAPHER?" I asked her in horror. "Like…a personal one? Grandma, they're going to HAVE photographers." I stopped to look at Aiden. "I mean, I assume."

"More of a live broadcast to certain interested parties," he corrected. "But yeah basically."

"See," I said desperately. "A videographer. That's even better. You can have someone back on Seraph record for you."

She snorted. "Don't be absurd. This is your special day. We need photos to commemorate. We'll take the wedding shots, then a few of you accepting the…is there an actual crown? It doesn't matter, we brought one just in case. We even have a matching tiara for Calliope. Oh, you two will look so darling together all dressed up in your best. Of course you'll need to wear a suit. That armor is very impressive dear, but it's hardly formal."

Every word increased the pressure on me, and I turned to shoot a pleasing glance at my mother, who grinned back at me vindictively. "That sounds like so much fun, mom. In fact, you should have Chelsea pose with them. Maybe Bethany and Gabriel as well."

"Nonsense," my grandmother chastised. "We've had plenty of pictures of Chelsea. This is Shane's day."

I cleared my throat. "Hey, I have a meeting with a god. We should go. Do you guys want to go? Let's leave immediately." I tried not to let my desperation show in my voice. I felt…weird. On one hand knowing my grandparents cared so much and were so excited to share this with me was nice. On the other having them dress me up in a suit and what I was pretty sure was a custom made crown to take family photos in front of my future subject was the most mortifying experience I could imagine, and I had been in the literal presence of a TORTURE goddess.

Aiden laughed. "Sure kid, let's go." He waved a hand and a glassy wall of fire consumed the air between this plateau and the next. As it faded away, it left behind a kind of…mush in the air. He flicked his fingers and the melted air solidified, giving him an easy path across.

Callie blinked in shock. That had been spatial fire. He'd melted SPACE. The burned remains had created a solid surface to walk on, but being able to do that at all, especially here, was…impressive. I glanced at my wife, who looked back excitedly. She hadn't been able to learn much from Abel, because his power didn't work like hers, but it looked like Aiden's might.

So, as we followed behind the older man, I made a mental note to try to ask him about helping Callie with her training. It probably wouldn't be one to one, but I was betting he could at least help. Walking along behind him though, I was brought up short by something. I felt…relaxed. My family had helped calm me down. I couldn't help but smile. I was pretty lucky to have them.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We made our way through the bleak rocky landscape pretty easily. Not that I expected trouble with Aiden around. I was sure my grandparents were tougher, given my grandpa was a demigod, but something about having the ACTUAL Wishmaster on hand in case of trouble was, admittedly, soothing.

When we reached the edge of the rocky entry path, though, that was when the place got really interesting. The first thing we ran into was…well, mist. A lot of it. A huge wall of mist. And it was mist I recognized too. "Is that the spatial mist given off by infinity crystal?"

He waggled a hand. "It's similar. I erected the mist myself. Well, actually it's closer to an ash cloud than mist. But that means I can do this." He waved a hand and the mist (or smoke I guess?) shifted slightly, forming a small tunnel. "After you," he nodded to us. We all trekked inside, and when we emerged from the other end of the cloud, we all came up short.

"Ok, now THIS is what I call a godworld," I said approvingly. "This is…beautiful. How big is this place?"

Wishworld was, in a word, paradise. I couldn't even figure out why at first. It was just a world. Trees, grass, clouds, mountains. It looked mostly normal, just better. I had to stare for a minute or two before it really clicked though. Colors. And shape. They just felt…more. Like every tree, leaf, and flower was just…idealized. Perfect. They weren't the same, exactly, but they were all more…them than they should have been.

Aiden nodded. "It's always jarring the first time. And this isn't even the actual Wishworld. This is the outskirts. The whole place is built in layers, kind of. Anyway, this was the old man's pet project for a few millennia apparently. He was obsessed with the theory of forms and its possible application in formation building. Which, by the way, this whole world is. Not that you'll see it at your level."

"What's the theory of forms?" I asked him as I looked around. "And what does it have to do with…this?" I gestured to all of it.

"You ever seen a lamp?" He asked dryly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I've seen a lamp," I said in annoyance. "What kind of question is that?"

"The important kind," he said solemnly. "Just answer when I ask something. You've seen a lamp? Nod if yes." I nodded. "You've seen more than one lamp?" Another nod. "Ok, were they different?" Again, I confirmed. "Perfect. So if those lamps weren't the same as each other, how do you know they were lamps? How do you know any lamp you see is a lamp? Lamps can vary wildly. The range of what is and isn't a lamp is pretty vague. So how do you look at some strange, barely functional experimental lamp and just KNOW it's a lamp?"

I paused. "I mean…there are specifications, I guess?"

"Are there?" he asked archly. "What makes a lamp? Is it a stand with a bulb? But what if it has two bulbs, does it stop being a lamp? What if there's no bulb at all? What if it's an oil lamp? What about old style lamps like the one on the WCP logo? Those are all lamps, but they don't have the specifications you mentioned. When you saw that lamp outside, did you know what it was?"

I frowned. "I mean…yeah. I guess I did."

"Theory of forms," he said again. "The idea that all objects of a certain type have an archetype. A primal version of that object that is THE definition of what it means to be that thing. Somewhere out there is a lamp from which all other lamps are modeled. The ultimate lamp. The pinnacle of all lampness."

I looked around in awe. "So these are all archetypal trees? But there's so many of them."

"They're not," he admitted. "But they're based on the concept. The old man decided that if there's an archetype that shares features with all derivates, that you should be able to reverse engineer something that might not be PINNACLE of form, but approaches it. Deducing the traits of lamps until you could make lamps that are like…ninety percent more lampy than normal lamps. He spent centuries on it. Studying various trees, lakes, grasses, all trying to create evolved forms. Not perfect, just…better."

My dad hummed. "I think this came from the concept of the library. And I THINK it's where he got the idea to perfect the Wish power to create the three times multiplier. Evolving his own ability until it became its most perfect form. Or close enough."

"So Wish…it's the Archetype? The original ability?" I asked in wonder. "Or at least, the old man's attempt at creating it?"

Aiden nodded. "That's what I always suspected. Iteration after iteration, he refined it until it was as perfect as it could get. That's why changing it at all ruins it. It's his life's work. Or at least, it was MOST of his life's work. It was complete in its present form a while ago. It makes you wonder what he's working on now? Is he still tinkering? Or did he accept it was as good as it would get and move on?"

"He's not the type to accept limits," my dad snorted. "If he hit a wall, he's not done. Just biding his time."

They shared a wry smile and a nod, then looked back out into the paradisical world. "You said this isn't the REAL Wishworld," I commented. "Where is it? Where are we going?"

He nodded up, pointing into the sky. "The Wishworld connects to a lot of places. The core of the world needs to be central, and because of the shaping it tends to warp and twist at the edges. Best central spot is up there."

I hadn't noticed it because of the clouds. It sat on them, floating innocuously. But I noticed something odd. There was no shadow. Actually, come to think of it, nothing here had shadows. There wasn't even a sun. The light was just kind of omnipresent. But the building he pointed out, once I saw it I couldn't unsee it.

Black. Not like black as night, or even the void of space. Black as the soul at your lowest point. Black enough that not only did it eat the light, the light nearby that it DIDN'T eat seemed dimmer from proximity.

The building was massive, too large to comprehend it properly, and once I saw it I wondered how I could have ever missed it. But I had. And now I couldn't see anything else.

"That," Aiden said with a grin. "Is where we're going. The core of this world. Or at least the place where the core is kept. THAT is the Wish Curse Palace." He said the words with such emphasis and weight that I knew he wasn't talking about the faction. This wasn't a headquarters. The Wish Curse Palace wasn't just a group. It was a place. This place. The REAL WCP. And seeing it like this, I had no idea how I could have ever assumed anything else. Because I couldn't imagine not knowing that this was the real deal.

My wife was gaping up at it. "Wait…the Wish Curse Palace is a LITERAL Palace? I thought it was just one of those noun verb noun organization names everyone seems to be so fond of for some reason."

Bethy was gaping up at it. "That is SO cool. How do we get up there? Do we have to climb a rope? Did you bring a grappling hook?"

"Bethy, you realize like half of us have wings, right?" I asked her dryly.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You can't fly up to a giant spooky castle, Shane. There's probably gargoyles protecting it or something."

"Lightning elementals, actually," Aiden said. "But yeah, aerial approach is a bad idea. I told you, this whole world is a formation. Trying to forcibly go anywhere you aren't cleared to access is a very poor decision. If you want to access the Palace, you need an invitation." He gestured grandly up at the colossal building. "So please, come on in."

There was a shift in the air, and the ambient light brightened, and for brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until it reached critical mass and exploded into a shower of golden sparks that shot up towards the Palace, leaving behind a seven colored trail of light that slowly built itself along the route to the clouds the palace sat on as it shot up into the sky. Bethy gaped at it. "Is that…a rainbow?"

"Of course," he said proudly. "The rainbow path is the only way to connect the ground and sky and enter the palace. It's part of the formation, so it bypasses the defenses." He stepped forward, feet touching down on the rainbow light, and it rippled under his foot like water around a dropped stone. Despite that, his foot found purchase easily and he stepped up onto the path. "Stick close, though. The defenses won't touch anyone on the path, but Wishworld has been around a long time. There are a few things up there that aren't part of the formation."

My dad snorted. "Oh gods, I forgot about cousin Jessica's birds. They're still alive?"

"Yes," Aiden said shortly. "And they're much bigger now. Plus they had hatchlings. Those fucking scavengers are deadly. I still don't know what Jess was thinking. What convinced her that something named a 'Scythian Torment Vulture' would make a good pet?"

Dad shrugged. "She was always a little odd. Had a penchant for darker wishes. Remember the zombie mountain?"

"Ugh," Aiden said in disgust. "It took so long to kill it. Didn't help they kept burying people up there. You'd think after the third legion rose back up they would have figured it out. I mean, really, she didn't call it a zombiFYING mountain. I still say they had no clue what they were doing. They got lucky with that forest fire."

I just shook my head as we followed behind them, letting them chat. "You good?" I asked Callie as we fell behind and let everyone else get some distance. "This place is wild."

She grinned at me. "I think maybe you're projecting a bit, love. I'm fine, how bout you."

"I…might be a little nervous," I admitted sheepishly. No matter how many gods I meet it never stops being crazy, but even beyond that…this is the one who started it all. The guy my bloodline comes from."

"He'll love you," she said casually. "Or he's an asshole and you should ignore him." She shot me a wild grin before saying semi jokingly. "If he's mean to you I'll have my dad beat him up." I could tell that she didn't mean it (Atlas was dead anyway), but still loved being able to say it. I just laughed and put an arm around her, leaning down for a kiss.

When we reached the top, Aiden led us to a large black door in the wall. A snap of his fingers opened it, and he whistled once. In front of us, a new figure appeared, some kind of tiny imp. It looked like a demonic baby almost, but meaner. It had horns and dark blue skin and sharp fangs so packed into its mouth it couldn't close. "Darius," Aiden said dismissively. "Bring them to their rooms. They'll be staying close together. I have to escort the kid to see the big man."

The imp bowed, then gestured to everyone else. I turned to my friends and family. "Alright all. Get settled in and I'll catch up with you soon. I have a meeting to get to. Wish me luck." And with that, I turned away and followed Aiden off into the dark hallway. I hoped I'd been telling the truth just then, and that I'd be back soon. Or at all. Oh hey, my paranoia was back. Fun.

 

[Quenster06]

Spoiler: Corrections

There was a shift in the air, and the ambient light brightened, and for brighter

Click to shrink...

And got* brighter

Time to meet the man, the legend, the God, the Wishmaster himself. I'm curious if there are many other relatives who got the Library or if Shane is the only other person who has inherited it so far.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We didn't stop inside the Palace. I expected to be taken to a throne room, or maybe some kind of study. Instead, Aiden brought me deep, deep into the heart of the structure, and then we left it behind to enter a deeper area.

After an hour or two of walking (ignoring everyone we passed), we came to a pair of huge dark wood doors. When Aiden pushed them open, I was expecting us to step into some kind of howling abyss. But instead, when we stepped through the door, the world fell away and we found ourselves in some kind of meadow.

It wasn't green, or pretty. In fact, meadow was a bit of an overstatement. It was a wide, flat field of grass, half drowned with muddy water, with only the odd island of overgrown greenery peeking out. As we touched down, I winced at the feeling of my feet squelching deep into the thin mud. Aiden grimaced, then nodded for me to follow and led me through the meadow towards a small, difficult to see building in the center.

As we approached, the very dim light seeping through the rainclouds currently pouring water down on us finally illuminated the small, squat building we'd come here to access.

It looked…old. A wooden shack that was barely holding together in the wind and rain. The shutters hung at odd angles, the paint on the door was peeling, and the door itself was cracked in several places, though not enough to show inside.

"This," said Aiden slowly. "Is the core of the Wishworld. The center of this whole realm. This is the Great Book Heavenly Library."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll be honest, It doesn't look like any of those things."

"Yeah, the old man is nostalgic," he shrugged. "He created this place in its larval form when he was pretty low on the totem pole. It wasn't FINISHED until much later, but the concept originated before he had the power or vision to create something grander. And he likes to keep it how it is. It's comfortable for him."

I'd heard Aiden adopt a lot of tones. Casual, acerbic, even fond. But I'd never heard the Wishmaster show…reverence. I could FEEL the respect he had for Alistair Wyndham in my bones. Aiden might not want to be the Wishmaster, but he still respected the office, or at least the man who had founded it. Turning, he reached up to rap his knuckles on the door. There was a brief pause and then someone called. "Why are you still out there, lackwit, get inside out of the rain."

Aiden laughed, pushing the door open and ushering me inside. I stepped in…and blinked. Ok, this looked a little more like what I was expecting. The inside of the place was…well, books. Just all the books.

Shelves ceiling to floor, rising up into the distance so high I couldn't see the top. And not just one level, throughout the sky of the library, small islands that looked like reading rooms floated, walls lined on three sides with shelving of their own. Directly ahead of us, to my surprise was a table that looked a lot like mine. I wondered if the form of the library had influenced me through recursion, or if my dad had somehow influenced it.

We stopped in front of the table, which was covered in books, to stare down at the figure scrawling away in yet another book. "Well?" he snapped without looking up. "What do you need, brat?"

"You sent me to get the kid," Aiden said mildly. "And bring him here."

Alistair paused. "Was that today?" He reached into a pocket, pulling out a…well watch was the wrong word. It was a small circular timepiece, but it had WAY too many dials and readouts. "Well that seems wrong," he said in concern. "I could have sworn it was two hundred years ago last time I checked that." His eyes lit up. "Wait, no, I remember." He snapped his fingers and a book appeared. He cracked it open and the interior glowed, his eyes lighting up again, but more literally this time.

"Right, Shane," he said confidently. "Sorry. Certain memories get in the way of certain research methodologies. Plus sometimes I section off parts of my brain into books to get a break." He glanced around the library with a frown. "This place is getting a little crowded. I need to make another annex."

Aiden rolled his eyes. "You say that every time I come in here. The last time you made one was two hundred years ago. Anyway, you said you wanted to meet the kid, so…here's the kid." He gestured to me like a magician showing off their assistant.

Alistair nodded, then turned to look me over. "So…you're Eli's boy," he said slowly. "That one had potential. Shame we lost him to the politics. All the smart ones jump ship. And yes, Aiden, I am most certainly including you in that assessment." His eyes, the same green as every other Wyndham I'd met, studied me carefully.

Honestly, the eyes were the only part I'd guessed right. Alistair Wyndham looked…old. Not beaten down or weathered. Just old. Healthy full cheeks were adorned with a snow white beard, and his hair, though very similar to the natural upsweep that my dad and I had, wasn't sandy blonde, but pure ivory. His eyes had crows feet at the corners, showing he smiled quite a bit, and he looked sweet and harmless.

He looked like a mix between someone's grandfather and a movie star. "You look older than I expected."

I didn't mean to say it, it just kind of slipped out, but as I said it I didn't regret the words. Alistair was the kind of person who valued honesty and communication. I could FEEL it in here. All knowledge was precious to him.

"I spent quite a bit longer in S-rank than most," he admitted. "I've always been patient. I could have made…adjustments. But I didn't see the point. My wife and children have long since died, and I rarely see anyone anymore. It's mostly just Aiden. Oh, and Pomp and Circumstance. They're my wisps. Though I haven't seen Pomp in some time." He glanced up into the sky, eyes fixing on a bookshelf, and one of the books glowed. "Ah, apparently I sent him out to pick up a rare Skill for me. Oh well, it's only been a century, I'm sure he's fine."

That was interesting. "So, not that I'm not excited to meet you, but I'm curious why you wanted to see me. Is this just onboarding, or did you have a specific goal."

"Both," he admitted. "I always greet the new ones. But more than that, I heard you've been having an interesting couple years. You've met several interesting deities. Suvaya I knew about, but I confess, the idea of a Heretic God is fascinating. I'd love to pick your brain. Or you could just tell me about it if you'd rather be boring."

I snorted at what I hoped was a joke. "Well, I think if you want information, I'm going to need to get something out of it. That's like…the first rule of the WCP, isn't it?"

That brought him up short, but he grinned after a moment. "That it is. What do you want?"

I'd expected that to be harder. Except…I had no idea. He was the Wishmaster, I could ask for almost anything. Power, techniques, Skills, items. I mean sure, the knowledge wasn't likely to pay for ANYTHING. But it could pay for something.

Considering my options, I thought about what I'd needed in the past. What I'd had that had changed the game. What I'd lost. And I only really had one response. "I want a defensive token," I decided. I'd used the Lady's protecting Callie, and ever since I had, I'd felt…naked. Having that divine level insurance had helped the world seem a little safer. And given where I was going and who I'd be dealing with moving forward, I wanted that security back.

"Smart," he said approvingly. "Too many people would have wished for some kind of overpowered Skill. Why didn't you?"

I shrugged. "I already have too many options. If I want an overpowered Skill I'll make one. Or at least a technique. But nothing I can get will be strong enough to protect me when I really need it. Defense is something I can't buy or make. Not at that level. Gods don't give out protection like that easily. And I suspect my information is worth it. Don't forget I'm your successor, I know the value of secrets."

"Clearly," he grinned. "Very well. You'll need to make the wish. Any particulars you'd like to hammer out?"

"Three uses," I clarified. "I don't want a one and done."

He shook his head. "Two is the highest I can go. Your information IS valuable, but not priceless. Now that I know the Heretic God exists I can find information on my own through trial and error. Is that acceptable?"

I hesitated. "No," I finally said. "I want to transfer one. One for me and one for my wife."

"That I can do," he acknowledged. "But they aren't going to be under your control. It'll have to be placed ON you. It'll activate if you're the victim of a serious attack by someone at S-rank or higher."

That wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but I was literally talking to a god. It was probably better than I should have asked for. I nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at me. It took me a second to realize what I was supposed to do, and I cleared my throat. "I wish for divine protection of the type we've just agreed on to be placed on my wife and I in exchange for a copy of the memories of my meeting with the Heretic God."

Callie had figured he might want to know about Atlas, and we'd already discussed and decided to give them to him if asked. I hadn't realized until just now how valuable the information might be, and therefore that I could get a wish, but I was satisfied with what I'd asked for.

Alistair smiled, nodding respectfully. "Done."

I blinked. "Wait…what? What do you mean, done? Where's the lightning? The flash of light? I didn't feel anything."

"This is Wishworld," he said simply. "Reality here is what I make it. Within the confines of the Wish, all who enter here are under my influence. You wished, you paid, and now you are made whole. You may go."

The jovial grandpa smile had vanished like the wind, and he returned to his book, dipping a quill and beginning to write. It wasn't that he had been faking, it was that he had wanted something from me and now gotten it. The Wishmaster was a god of the deal. His interest in mortal affairs extended only to the wishes he granted and those he deemed worthy to make them.

Oddly…that made me feel better. I'd been so paranoid when he was being a nice old man. It just didn't fit with my image of what gods were. I sighed, then pushed back my chair. I was about to get up, but I realized that at the very least, I should CHECK what kind of protection he'd laid on me. I held up a finger for Aiden to wait, and then I closed my eyes and entered my ring of Pride.

My library looked the same as ever. Mostly. Except one difference. There was a second pedestal like the one my Chronicle sat on, a bright white stone plinth above which floated a book made of living purple flame, bound in violet lightning. In the flickers of the flames, runes and stats danced and leapt, rearranging and recombining infinitely, as if driven by the fire like an engine. I grinned down at it, then looked back at my ancestor as I left. "Thanks old man," I told him sincerely. And you know? I swore I saw him smirk a little as I got up to leave. Sneaky bastard.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Someone who wasn't me might wonder why I was so excited. I'd met my ancestor, he'd said almost nothing to me, then he'd kicked me out. Which…honestly had been what I'd expected. He was the Wishmaster. As a god centered around deals and contracts, once I was no longer relevant to him it wasn't surprising he had no use for me.

He'd answered no questions, given no advice, and hadn't even really acknowledged me as a relative with more than a passing comment. And despite that, he'd given me the most profound gift of my life.

I was sure he knew it, too. Because he could have granted that wish in a lot of different ways. An item, a blessing, there were dozens of methods of applying a defensive construct. And none of them would have been as earthshattering as the one he'd just given me. A book. A Skill (or technique?) book constructed from his power INSIDE my library. Where I could study it. Learn its secrets.

Of course, the first thing I did was try to do just that, splitting off a parallel and sending it to pilot my body back to my friends while I slipped into the library to explore this new gift. But naturally, when I got to it, I realized things weren't QUITE that simple.

The book was definitely impressive. As I stared down at it, my breath was stolen by the sheer artistry of the construction. The first thing I noticed was that despite being closed, because of the way it was designed, I could read the whole thing from above, or below, or even the sides. The runes that constructed it weren't opaque, even if they were constantly moving and shifting. Flames and lightning made up the tome, but they were mostly just SHAPED like a book, and that made a huge difference. I triggered Dantalion to study it, and I was blown away.

Mostly because the construct was shifting and changing in a way that made it feel almost ALIVE. Every symbol related to every other symbol. The first symbol in the book wasn't just the symbol before the next, it also aligned with a different effect when read in line with the one below, and diagonal. And more than that, each page was its own individual effect, and each chapter.

It was…art. Every individual instance of a rune was part of a constellation of different effects at any given moment, and all those constellations were part of a larger construction, each rune being used in a thousand ways in a thousand different patterns that were themselves making up larger patterns until-

I woke up. It was a little jarring. That was a LOT of information. My brain didn't really BEND in the way necessary to do that yet. But I knew how it could. Parallels. I needed more parallels. A lot of them. All going at once and calculating for a thousand days and- I shook my head.

Slowly. I needed to go slowly. That book was so far beyond what I could conceptualize. It wasn't just the insane cascading, overlapping patterns of formation like constructs. It was the fact that every second they were MOVING, rearranging themselves. And when viewed from a macro perspective, even THAT was a pattern. I could almost see it if I focused, almost grasp the edge of a great sprawling tapestry of constructs, all lined up in front of me in a way that showed me that the design wasn't just constructed in three dimensions. Yes, the thing was book shaped, and that was important, but beyond that, time was also a dimension the enchantment functioned in, with each second being part of an even larger array of overlapping design.

Which was why I had blacked out. I was doing too much. Trying to brute force something I had no chance at brute forcing. Scowling, I reached out for my staff. I called the object to me, then carefully set it above the book. Not interfering or even interacting, I wanted to avoid setting it off, if that was possible.

And this was why I'd been so grateful to my ancestor. The old man had made this book a PART of my library. Not in a 'stolen authority' kind of way. Like he'd loaned it to me for my collection. And since the library and my staff could work together to simulate different Skills and patterns, it would be perfect for reverse engineering this book…eventually. I set the Wisdom of Solomon to processing. And winced.

The book was changing too fast. To build an appropriate model, it would need to first build a model of each configuration, then try to line them up in the right way to create the overarching construct in spacetime. Which I had zero idea where to even start on. But before all that, I'd need to get a copy of each individual sequence of the book. And considering that my staff was having trouble calculating even one or two runes…that wouldn't happen soon.

Grimacing, I created another parallel to keep watch. Then I waved my hand and constructed a table full of empty books. "Alright," I told me. "You know the drill. The staff is going to take down every rune. Try to figure out which of them belongs to which sequence and put them together as best you can. Figure out how long until we get repeats, and then figure out if those are consistent. The staff is building the patterns, but you need to build the pattern of patterns."

Despite all that, and the fact that it would take me probably YEARS to crack this at the current pace. I was excited. Even the partial decryption was going to expand my understanding of Skill construction by leaps and bounds. And not just mine. My staff wasn't just stimulating, it was learning. And the more it learned the more it learned how to learn.

That wasn't all of it though. He hadn't just given me one of these. He's also given CALLIE one. And since my wife and I were connected at the soulular level (technical term I'd just made up), I could access hers too. Maybe it was different. Or maybe it wasn't, which would probably be better, because I would be able to compare and contrast (somewhat, without another staff it seemed unlikely to be that easy, but a man could dream).

I was about to return to my body, go find my wife, and then have her escort me into her soul space…and then I realized. Why would I need to do that? Our souls were connected by the bond. Truly, deeply, madly connected. We could share anything if we wanted to.

Soul spaces were…well, part of the soul. They were Domains, or pseudo Domains in our case. So since our souls were connected, why couldn't our soul SPACES?

I focused on the bond, closed my eyes, and then tried to PUSH myself between one space in the next. It didn't work. I tried again. Nothing. I kept at it for a minute or two, until I heard a knock on the door. Except I was currently inside my soul, so there shouldn't BE a door here. I opened my eyes to find that one had materialized.

It was set into a wall that had just been shelves previously, a large pair of gilded double doors, white at the top and bleeding darker to grey and then black as it approached the floor. A series of strange curved and twisted windows flowed down it, individual cells in a design that formed a familiar symbol. My well of wishes. There was another knock. I frowned, walking over to the other side of the room and pulling the door open slowly, ready for anything even if I knew what this PROBABLY was.

Sure enough, my wife was waiting on the other side, her eyebrow raised. "You know we can TALK telepathically?" she pointed out, her arms crossed in front of her in annoyance. "You could have just ASKED me to let you in."

I blinked. "I…did not consider that. I was kind of distracted. I assume you noticed-"

"The purple book made of flames and lightning sitting on the altar in my temple?" she finished dryly. "Yeah, it came up. I assume you're going to tell me what that's about? Because I've been getting a flood of excitement through the bond with no context." I explained the books and where they came from, and she seemed a little on the fence about if she was happy I'd used half of my wish for her. When I pointed out it was based on a memory I only had because of her link to Atlas, she caved and just said thank you, giving me a soft kiss and the kind of smile that still tied my stomach in knots even after years together.

After I finished explaining though, she paused to look up at the door. "Also, I didn't know we could do this. Did you know we could do this?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. Though it'll be damned useful. You can come down here to train and work on your techniques. With your new form you'll have to build an arsenal of them, and this is the perfect place."

"You're not wrong," she admitted. "So, are you gonna come in or what? I assume that you want to look at the book directly?" She glanced past me to where my staff sat above my copy. "Seems like you're already hard at work cracking the code. How long are you thinking, couple months?"

I snorted. "How about a couple years? Or possibly decades. This isn't something I can rush. I'll learn a lot in the process, but this…Cal, this is so far beyond anything I've ever seen. I can't even put it into words. It's almost a living being. This is like me building those walkie talkies that kids use out of strings and a pair of cups and then someone handing me a scan ring. It's…nominally the same as what I've been doing, but the scale is so absurdly different that you can barely even call them the same process. I thought I was impressive, honestly, at least with techniques. But past a certain level I'm not sure Skills and techniques are even different things. I guess they never were, given the way the library records them and things like sold paths."

Shaking my head in disbelief I laughed. "That's something for another time. I tried to brute force this earlier and knocked myself unconscious. INSIDE my soul. Slow and steady is the best course of action here. Why don't we go and take a look at yours. See if it's the same. Or if I can even tell."

We laughed, and I slung an arm over her shoulder, the two of us passing through the door from my soul to hers. When we entered, I looked over the temple that was her soul space. And I spotted a new stained glass window. Blinking, I stared at it for a moment before turning to smile at her. "Is that what I think it is?" It was an image of us huddled together, her head resting on my chest as we closed our eyes.

"Yeah," she grinned. "I felt like it was just…right to have it here. I considered using it to bind a page, but the pages reinforce certain aspects of your abilities. And I think that one would just empower the bond. Which I like, but I'm not sure I want it to be my FIRST page, you know?"

I nodded. "I can see that. We can always use it later." I squeezed her against me. "It was an important memory for me too. Now, let's go take a look at this book." We set off down the purple carpet towards the altar where the book sat, burning merrily away. Somehow, I doubted we were going to get any real answers from it right now. But hey, at least it was a pretty decoration.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Aiden escorted me back to the suite of rooms my people were staying in. The walk was…informative. The WCP reminded me of nothing so much as a walled city. It wasn't a building, for all the it was in one piece. Huge towering chambers, spatial manipulation, artificial sunlight, parks, there were amenities inside the palace that I hadn't seen in actual cities, and the walls themselves were at LEAST A-rank materials.

The tour was educational and very entertaining, but the company sucked. If I hadn't been communing with my wife and studying god level skill engineering, I might have been offended.

Once we arrived, he dropped me off with a casual wave and vanished, leaving me alone to push the door open and slip inside. My family was waiting. Chelsea, Callie, mom, dad, Zeke, Uncle Sam, and my grandparents. My grandfather let out a sigh of relief when he saw me, but my dad just rolled his eyes. "I TOLD you he'd be fine. If the old man wanted to hurt him he wouldn't need a summons. You know how powerful gods are within their Domains."

My dad shrugged. "He was fine. Like I said. Though now that we're here…I think it might be time to talk about picking your cabinet."

I blinked at him. "My…what now?"

"Your cabinet," he repeated. "You know, the people who do most of the day to day work while you're Wishmaster?"

"But…Aiden said that he does everything?" I said slowly. "He hates it. Says its the worst job of all time. He literally mocked me for taking over and went on about how much work it is." I was poleaxed. Was the previous Wishmaster messing with me?

My dad snorted out a laugh. "Because Aiden is a control freak. He trusts almost no one. Have you seen him spending time with anyone? Talking to any friends? He's a miserable paranoid lunatic. That happens when you completely dominate an entire generation through the threat of overwhelming violence. I didn't think you took any of that seriously. I mean yes, he hates the job, but it's mostly his own fault. People just don't call him on it because he scares them."

"Yeah, because people love you and you have so many friends," I said dryly. "I can't even mention your name in public without members of the family wetting themselves. No wonder you get along so well." Besides, given the conversation about his wife, I wasn't sure Aiden was as much of a loner as he let on. Still, it wasn't pleasant news to get this late in the game.

"He's right," Zeke cut in. "I love you, bud, but if not for Sasha and I you would have no social life. You used to be more personable, but you gradually lost all ability to socialize."

Chuckling at my dad's glower, I turned to Zeke. "As fun as it is to mess with him, I really do need to know what this cabinet thing is. Because apparently Aiden didn't bother to mention it, which is either entirely expected from him or so oblivious it's hard to fathom, and now that I say it out loud I think both of those are equally likely."

"Pretty much," my dad chuckled. "But basically, the Wishmaster acts as a counterbalance to the Elder's Council, having about half the power in the WCP. But since half their job is to soak up renown constantly via their position, they can't be expected to do everything. They usually bring on a cadre of loyal supporters to handle their business inside the family. It's a useful series of positions to fill…but politically complicated."

I groaned. "Of COURSE it is. Go ahead. Lay it on me. What fresh hell is this?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's nothing absurd. There's just some…considerations. Picking your cabinet is about making alliances, forming connections, and cementing your position in the family. Part of why Aiden never bothered. But YOU could benefit from that, especially given you're probably going to be leaving on a sensitive mission soon."

"I take it I can't just pick people I already know?" I gestured to my wife and sister. "I can think of a few selections I could make right now."

"That's sweet of you," my mother said with a smile. "And your sister may be a good choice, given her unique capabilities, but you shouldn't choose ALL outsiders. One or two is fine, but some of those slots should go to politically connected dynasties, or uniquely talented individuals you want to hitch to your wagon. Plus the individual offices have different skillsets, so just picking people who punch hard is unlikely to work out well."

Sighing, I nodded. "Fine, then fill me in. What are these positions and who do I need to fill them with? I assume you guys have suggestions? This is feeling less like you checking on me and more like a strategy meeting."

She just shrugged. "It can be both. But there are seven traditional cabinet positions. Master of Ceremonies, Master of Banking, Master of Challenge, Master of Treaties, Master of Development, Master of Substitution, and Master of Secrets. Like we said, Aiden didn't have a cabinet, so it's not mandatory, but anyone with any social skills makes use of them. No one can do it all alone. Of course, if you dislike the positions, there are alternate offices that have been used in the past, or you could make up your own. But the traditional seats hold a certain amount of…weight."

"Ok…" I said slowly. "So I get Ceremonies and Banking. What about the others? Secrets is like a spymaster?"

"Basically. There's some deeper significance given the role of secrets in the wishing process." My dad confirmed. "But their job is essentially to gather information. It's a difficult office to fill because secrets are one of the few major issues with wishes."

I grimaced at that. "So are people going to expect me to pick a Wyndham optimized to granting wishes of that specific kind for each office?"

He waggled a hand. "Not necessarily. I'll cover the positions on order. As you said. Banking and Ceremonies are obvious, though I would suggest you think CAREFULLY about both. The WCP is an economic powerhouse and events are a huge part of our interaction with the outside world. They're both crucial positions."

"Noted," I said solemnly. "I'll keep it in mind, but what about the others?"

Sighing, he leaned back. "The Master of Challenge acts as your Champion. They're usually supposed to be someone close to your rank, all of the cabinet is, because they gain renown alongside you, albeit to a lesser extent. Your Master of Challenge will be your sword and shield against equal ranked enemies, and as you both grow will take a larger and larger role. When you eventually step down, your cabinet will retire with you, becoming your own household. MOST of the time a retired Wishmaster hits S-rank and his cabinet members become part of his branch."

I blinked at that. "Wait…how many members of the Elder Council are former Wishmasters?" I asked slowly.

"Three," my dad said bluntly. "Desmond, Cristoph, and Warren. Warren is the youngest, and was the reigning Wishmaster before Aiden. Cristoph was before him, and Desmond was four generations ago. Cristoph's predecessor died under mysterious circumstances. It was kind of a scandal. Don't bring it up."

I frowned. "What, we've never had a female Wishmaster? Wishmistress? How would you say that."

"It's Wishmaster, because of the renown gain, and yes, we have," he sighed. "A few of them. Adalind was the Wishmaster…I want to say fifteen generations ago? She was killed in a border skirmish after retiring. Cassidy was thirty generations before her, and she died of old age."

That brought me up short. Hearing about that…it really brought home how old my family was. I mean yes, I knew S-rankers lived usually between fifty and a hundred thousand years, and that the Wishmaster office could pass on anywhere between a few decades and a few centuries depending on how big of an impact the new boss had, but still…how many Wishmasters had there been?

How OLD was the old man? Even if he was only a hundred thousand, averaging out Wishmasters to one change a century (admittedly a bit optimistic) that was a thousand potential Wishmasters. No wonder he didn't get involved in the selection.

"Anyway," my dad said waspishly. "The Master of Treaties is basically your voice in political matters. They decide where new branch locations will be founded, how many resources we funnel to EXISTING branches, and what we get in return for a branch existing in the territory of another faction. Basically they handle contracts, but on a much larger scale. The Master of Substitution takes your place for important events or when you need to be elsewhere. Like a body double.

"Finally," he said grimly. "We have the Master of Development. That's your head of research. You want something done? You give it to him and he does it. New item created? Now Skill developed? Need some lost knowledge uncovered? All of that goes to the Master of Development. The position is mostly assumed by the Wishmaster's closest advisor and confidant, because it requires absolute trust."

Frowning, I glanced around at the three of them, then at my grandparents. "You said you don't think I should fill my cabinet with outsiders, that I should use tot bind some elements of the family closer to me. I assume you have candidates in mind? And how many of the positions can I reserve for my people?"

"Well, there's nothing that says you need to have a hard number," my mother hedged gently. "We can't just come out and tell you what to d-"

"Two," my dad cut her off. "You shouldn't appoint more than two outsiders." She turned to glare at him and he shrugged. "What? It's true. No need to coddle the boy. Two is still plenty. I assumed he'll be giving at least one position to his wife, and we can consider Chelsea as one of the other five."

My sister shook her head. "Nope," she said firmly. "None of those positions suits me. I don't want a job just to ride my brother's coattails, thanks. I can make my own way. But I think the Master of Challenge should be either Abel or Bethy."

"Bethy," my wife said firmly. "A connection to Lark in an official capacity would be huge, and she's the scariest C-ranker we know. In terms of pure combat potential, the only one close to her is Abel, and he doesn't have the same political advantages. As for the other one…Crell. You should pick Crell as your Master of either Treaties or Ceremonies."

I didn't like that, and I could tell she didn't either…but I also knew she was right. Crell was one of the most devious people I'd ever met. He could talk anyone in circles, and always had a plan or an angle. Given that skillset…"Treaties," I decided. "I'll extend Crell an invitation to be my Master of Treaties. Him being B-rank won't be an issue, will it?"

"Unlikely," my dad assured me. "He only recently ranked up. He's still close enough to you that it shouldn't be an issue." He gave me a reassuring smile. "For what it's worth, those are good choices. The ones I'd have made myself."

I nodded my thanks, but then glanced at Callie and Chelsea. To my surprise neither looked unhappy. I knew Callie had wanted to be part of my cabinet, I could feel it, but she knew it was only smart to do what was best for my position. Plus, I think she was secretly relieved not to have too much more responsibility. She was already dealing with a lot.

"Alright, we'll that's two down," I said wryly. "Now we just have five to go. You mentioned some suggestions? Because I get the impression most of them are people I don't know." Or people I wouldn't like. But I left that unsaid. No need to be rude where anyone could hear. That's what the privacy of my own head was for.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So we have five positions to fill." I said as I paced around the room. "You mentioned having suggestions. But why do I feel like it isn't going to be QUITE that simple." I paused, thinking back to Fade and the Hall of Steel. "Shit. I'm going to have to fight a bunch of these people, aren't I?"

My dad snorted. "Told you he would get it. Or close enough. Not fighting. Most Wyndhams aren't the fighting type. Though to be fair, the ones who ARE mostly occupy the group you're scouting."

I frowned. "Well, I mean there are a few mixed up in my business from the succession war, I could invite some of them, right?"

"A few," he admitted. "If you want. But I recommend you focus a little outside the candidate wheelhouse. You know from Chelsea that not everyone in the family inherits the bloodline. It skips generations sometimes, and some branches it gets bred out completely. But those family members are still family. They usually end up joining branches as security, staff, or couriers."

Zeke snorted. "Or they leave. It's not easy for Wyndhams who don't have the gift. They're treated as second class citizens. I mean, I know Chelsea was getting lots of attention at your ceremony, but that was because she's politically well connected and powerful. For most of those kids they end up being seen and not heard. Kept around for their usefulness and ignored. Especially for siblings that DO have the gift."

My dad grimaced. "Like Trevor and Natasha," he admitted. "Though to be fair, my father isn't exactly the best example of good parenting."

"Exactly," he turned back to me. "But they ARE still family. And you can make connections with some of the more insular dynasties AND help talented kids who really need it make their own way in the world. I know the politics can be annoying, but you could actually do some good here." He shrugged. "Not my thing, but I know you like that kind of stuff."

I huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm a fan of human decency," I said dryly. He just grimaced like I'd mentioned liking pineapple on pizza. "But that's…well, hopefully I can help. I was honestly kind of envisioning a full cabinet of candidates and bloodline holders, but this does open up some possibilities. You're saying I'm going to have to fight them to find the right fight though?" I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"Not fight," my dad corrected. "Like I said, Wyndhams don't tend to be fighters. There are exceptions, but you aren't LOOKING for those. You're looking for talents in specific areas. Which means-"

"You think he should check the tournaments," Zeke said with an understanding nod. "That's not a bad idea. They have them for everything. There are probably tournaments for each of the seven positions or some analogue. Except the Substitute. Not sure where we'd even look for that."

I stared at him drolly. "Seriously?" I asked him with a snort. "I wear an impenetrable wooden mask at all times. Just make another one for ANYONE my height. Maybe include a voice changer or something. I was basically born for this."

"That's…a good point," he admitted. "So that one should be easy then. Only four more to handle."

My dad nodded. "I have some ideas for where to find the others. There are quite a few tournaments and contests that might make someone a suitable choice for the Master of Ceremonies. But I think the closest you'll get to someone with the kind of aesthetic and organizational talent is going to be the Tea Ceremony Competition. Most of them are formation Masters, but it takes an extra little bit of style. I was fairly accomplished at Tea Ceremonies myself in my youth."

I stared at him blankly. "You…you did TEA ceremonies? Isn't that a little…mellow for you? Was the tea poisoned? Did you trade people the leaves for their souls?"

My mother giggled at that. "Your father has a very peaceful heart. He just sometimes takes it out and puts it in a box when he needs to do business. But he DID do tea ceremonies when he was young." She gave him an adoring smile. "He made tea for me on our first date."

Clearing his throat, my dad shot her a slightly sour look. "There's no need to go into all that now," he said in an almost pleading voice. "The point is, there's a subset of the family that practices. The Wyndham clan is HUGE. We've been around for tens of thousands of years, and the majority of the descendants don't inherit the gift. Bloodlines aren't universal, otherwise the universe would be overrun with bloodline holders. Every clan would have people lining up to bribe them to marry in a third cousin to get their hands on some more power."

"I mean, that DOES still happen," Zeke pointed out. "It's just not super successful. I mean yes, higher ranked bloodline holders are more likely to pass on the genes, but it's still hit or miss. And for the weaker ones, or the ones who don't HAVE the bloodline. Well, mostly only the desperate or powerless families try to aim for that kind of interbreeding."

Chelsea snorted. "Yeah, plus it can be dangerous. Mixing bloodlines or racial traits can result in…unpredictable outcomes." We all looked at her, and I was a bit alarmed by the slight bitterness in her words. When she saw the glances, she put on a big happy smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Not that I know anyone like that. Just thinking out loud."

We all knew who she meant, and I felt a pang of sympathy for my cheerful vampire "bestie". Bethy was so good at being zany and effervescent that it was easy to forget how much she went through every day. But that was the whole point. She didn't want to be defined by the bad parts of her life, and did her best to make every day exciting and fun. I promised myself I'd spend more time with Bethy, especially now that she was going to be my champion. I got so swept up in the show she put on that I forgot to check on her sometimes.

"Anyway," said Zeke, refocusing us. "That's one. We still need Secrets, Development, and Banking."

"Well there's a few Crafting tournaments," my dad said with a shrug. "That one I'm more up in the air about. Banking we'll want to check out one of the merchant competitions. And secrets…" he frowned. "That'll be the hardest one. It takes a very specific kind of person to become a Master of Secrets. And not the kind you can take out an ad for."

My grandmother spoke up. "Maybe you can do just that, or something similar. Just get a list of information brokers and use wishes to narrow it down. Obviously just asking for the best candidate wouldn't work, given the nature of the position, but if you just write them all out…"

"We go page by page," I acknowledged. "Or even more. Wish to know which half of the list the best candidate is in, then halve that half, then again. Then get it to page, then eliminate individually. Time consuming but not a bad idea. I'll have to get the scrolls from a relative, but I have a few I could call. My retinue is mostly on Stratholme at the moment, but a few of the cousins from the succession war should be around."

Delia and Roland came to mind. I had a decent stock of points left I could probably pay with too. It felt good to have actual currency. I'd been kind of speedrunning from one financial bit of nonsense to the next, getting by on bartering and doing tasks to get what I needed. Now that I was the Wishmaster (or would be soon) it would be embarrassing for me to be broke and trading for everything. Speaking of which.

"What about the coronation?" I asked anxiously. "Do I need to have my cabinet picked by the time that rolls around? And when is that? And WHERE? You said it would be held somewhere more neutral and outside the core of the Wishworld. Does that mean not in the Palace?"

"They'll use the Back Palace," my dad said with a nod. "It's connected but not part of the main building. It's kind of a…halfway point. It's connected to the actual Palace, so we can reach it easily, and the guests will stay there. Your grandparents were allowed in because the old man decreed it, and because Aiden escorted them. MOST of the visiting dignitaries will stay in the Back Palace for the duration of the coronation event."

I grimaced at that. "Coronation…event?"

"Of course," he grinned. "You know how important reputation is among Ascendants. We never miss a chance to have lavish parties and show off. The coronation is a week long celebration with the actual ceremony taking place on the seventh night." At my horrified expression, he just laughed. "Be grateful. It USED to be seventy two days. It got whittled down over time because it tends to get in the way of business.

"As for your cabinet, yes, you do want to have them chosen before the ceremony," he admitted. "I know it's a stressful proposition, but if anything, the ceremony will help. More tournaments will be going on during such a big event. It should make it easier to find the right fit. I assume Aiden neglected to mention the whole thing because…well, like I said, he never had one. I wouldn't be surprised if he just forgot about the whole concept, really."

Zeke snorted. "And the rest of the council probably assumed you knew. He WAS supposed to tell you. Or the old man could have. Though knowing him he probably talked to you for ten seconds and never looked you in the face."

"No, Shane had information he wanted," my father corrected. "He probably offered him a wish and THEN ignored him."

Realizing I'd gotten sucked into this whole conversation as soon I returned, I decided to sit down and fill them in on everything. Getting worried about the future was fine, but the present came first. Literally.

So I filled them in on everything. My dad nodded along, and when I finished, he beamed at me. "That…was the best choice you could have possibly made." He complimented me.

My mom nodded her approval. "It really was. Safety always comes first, both for you and Calliope. Ensuring that was the wisest use of that kind of power. In fact, I'm sure your ancestor gave you those technique books as a reward for your forward thinking and prudence."

Dad did NOT look sure of that, and like me probably suspected the old man had done it on a random whim and forgotten about it ten seconds after it happened, but he wisely chose not to say anything to that effect. We all laughed a bit, and a lot of the tension flowed out of the room as we relaxed.

This was just another part of the job, and I shouldn't get so hung up on details. Sure, I needed to find these people, and sure I'd have to TRUST them, but I was sure my dad would help with the contracts. I'd have a safe and reliable fallback, and they could take care of things while I was out making connections and preparing for the war.

Ultimately, this was all formalities, and couldn't compare to the quest I would be going on when it ended. The idea of heading off into the Void to find Mourne Kayze again (for real this time) and beseech the Lady for help was…heavy. But it helped put things in perspective. Before that though, I had a seven day party to get to…after I got some damned sleep.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I woke the next day surprisingly excited. I was supposed to head out today to check the tournaments for possible recruits. I was going to get to explore, see some of the talents of the WCP, maybe try some good food. It was shaping up to be a pretty fun day.

After a night of sleep and some downtime after arriving, I felt a lot less pressured and more…excited. This was my home, or it would be in the future, and I was going to get to experience it at its biggest and most ostentatious. That sounded like a real party any way you sliced it, and being able to go out and do it while I spent time with my wife and friends? That sounded like a blast.

"So, is everyone ready?" I asked excitedly as I strode out of the suite Callie and I were staying in. I felt shockingly refreshed. The bed we'd been given was absurdly comfortable. It was C-rank, because any higher and the Impact would have made it uncomfortable to sleep on, but it was the highest quality C-rank bed I could have imagined.

Callie was almost floating alongside me. "What," she sighed happily. "Are Peace Sheep, and how much does it cost to buy a whole farm of them?"

"Peace sheep are a special breed of beast used by luxury designers," my grandfather said with a laugh. "One of them costs enough to buy a small planet. They're born at D-rank, too, so finding a C-rank juvenile to shear for that bed and having it crafted before you arrived was probably a lot of trouble. Adult Peace Sheep are mostly A and B-rank."

"Personally, I'm more enthused about the sheets." I said with a laugh. "The pillows were great, but that Heavenly Caterpillar Silk was like rubbing against the concept of inner peace."

My grandmother nodded. "They certainly did pull out all the stops. Most of the amenities here are better than what your grandfather and I have at home. To be fair, the WCP IS a mercantile faction, so they have access to the most luxurious goods."

Honestly, the stuff at my grandparents house was actually really nice, but I'd been staying in the guest wing. While everything was high quality, it wasn't on the same level as a suite designed for the incoming faction leader. The Church and WCP also had very different styles of doing things. The WCP was all about luxury and excess, so they naturally had the best of everything. I wasn't planning to go nuts before leaving on my quest, but if they were going to give me a super luxurious bed, I wasn't going to complain.

"So, we're doing the Tea Ceremony Tournament first, right?" I asked as everyone gathered up to leave. Bethy, Abel, Mel, Chelsea, Gabe, Fade, Alanna, Zeke, Stella, my parents, and my grandparents. It wasn't quite the two thousand plus people I'd been traveling with back during the succession war, but it was a decent sized retinue.

My mother perked up. "I'm incredibly excited. I haven't seen a Tea Ceremony in years. It's considered one of the most elegant applications of formation arts. Your father doesn't practice much any more."

"It's not the same when you don't have the time to devote to it," he grumbled. "I used to grow my own tea leaves. Special blends I created by infusing them with different soul properties. It's part of why I was willing to help Bethany with her wine grapes. It reminded me of some of my old projects."

We all laughed as we followed him out into the hall. "So I assume you know how to GET to the tournaments?"

He snorted. "I DID live here for a while. Not all of us jumped right into the deep end during our succession war. I had already reached D-rank for a while before mine started, and you know that after that point you can come back and make connections."

I nodded, I'd kind of assumed that was the case. My dad knew his family too well not to have had personal experience with them. Plus everyone in the WCP was terrified of him, and while I didn't know exactly what he DID during his succession war, I was guessing it had taken a while to cook up a rep like that.

We followed him down a side corridor away from the suites, and I put an arm around Callie. "So, you excited about this?" I asked her as we headed after them. "Because I'll be honest, I'm kind of excited. This is going to be fun, right?"

She beamed at me. "Of course, we get to try some tea, observe some art, just relax and observe. It sounds so peaceful." Her face closed up. "Shit. I just jinxed us, didn't I?"

I held a finger up in the air as if testing the wind. "Feels like…yes. Or maybe no. It's definitely one of those two. Or possibly both. Neither is also an option, but it's not likely. So really, there's about a twenty five percent chance you jinxed us."

"You aren't funny," she told me flatly. "You THINK you're funny. But you're not." Her tone was teasing, and I could tell she was more amused than annoyed.

"Well you certainly didn't marry me for my brains," I noted wryly.

She winked at me. "Now that's where you're wrong. I'm planning to eat them one of these days while you're sleeping. I'm just letting them cook. It happens bit by bit whenever you think about something too hard. I can see the steam coming out of your ears."

"How dare you," I said with a gasp of outrage. "I never think about anything."

That got a giggle out of her and I had to laugh along. I saw her open her mouth to respond, but she was cut off as we came to a stop at the edge of a large chamber we'd just turned into.

It looked…outside. Like the ceiling was dotted with crystals that made it seem like there were stars above, and a single bright moon, and I could feel the humidity and wind of a real night out under the stars. Grass covered the floors, and the whole room was filled with small picturesque houses that reminded me of some of the districts back on Callus. It was like a little village.

"Well, this is nice," I said with a smile as I inhaled the scent of the outdoors. "What is this place?"

My dad shrugged. "Just one of the lowtowns. They're pop up locations that the lower ranked members of the family cobble together to socialize. There are more upscale districts, but they're mostly inhabited by candidates and bloodline holders. That's not even going into some of the branch districts. I'll take you to your grandfather's place in the next few days. You'll be blown away."

"Maybe literally," my mom muttered under her breath. "Oh, wait, did I say that out loud?"

My father just rolled his eyes. "I know you don't LIKE my dad but he wouldn't try to kill us. He might ignore someone ELSE doing it, but he wouldn't do it himself. He swore an oath, remember?"

"That's not the supportive statement you think it is," she said dryly.

Zeke, meanwhile, was just snickering at both of them. But he stopped at a glare from Stella, who had accompanied us on this little outing. She was my grandmothers apprentice now, and had grown a LOT over the last six months. Being personally taught by a legendary S-ranker whose parents were gods would do that. She was already at D-rank, which was pretty impressive, all things considered.

Choosing not to start a fight, my Uncle turned and pointed off into the distance. "Oh hey, is that the tournament we're here for?"

It was. A small stage was setup outside one of the wooden buildings, and a crowd surrounded it. The stage had a series of tables on it, and each table had a different contestant at it, each of them performing some beautiful and complicated action.

"Look, we made it in time," my mother said excitedly. "It looks like they're at the finals."

We headed over to line up near the stage, excitedly taking in the various entrants and their ceremonies.

When you hear 'Tea Ceremony' you think of a few different things. Or I did anyway. I thought of somber, contemplative intent. Slow and deliberate preparation of tea in beautiful and elegant cups.

Which, to be fair, WAS an aspect of what was going on. It just wasn't all of it. More than just the act of making the tea, there was a kind of…poetry to the motions. A harmonization with the world. No. Wait, not with the world. With their paths. These Tea Ceremonies were all unique techniques, individually customized by their creators.

There were five tables in total, each person operating their Tea Ceremony in a unique way. The first table was a guy around my age. He had long hair pulled back into a ponytail and a goatee. The cups in front of him floated above the table on clouds made of rainbow mist. As we watched, he played notes on a small pipe, and as the notes rang out, the clouds would rise and fall, tipping water into various vessels and steeping and mixing the tea.

As the tea percolated, steam rose and condensed into yet another cloud above his head, shrinking as he played until finally, he blew one last note, and a single solitary cup floated up off the table and the cloud rained into it, filling it with a rainbow cup of tea made from a multitude of leaves.

The second woman had a paintbrush and an easel. She was dipping the brush into palettes made from tea leaves and painting on the canvas. When the pictures were done they pulled themselves off the canvas and climbed into the water, dissolving peacefully in the different cups.

The third was a swordsman. His blade flowed through a complicated series of cuts, the wind lifted and spinning tea leaves in a whirlwind and carrying water on another. As he cut, they weaved together, the heat and friction from the cuts boiling the tea.

The fourth was using some kind of shadow puppetry to manipulate the leaves. Picking them from the darkness beneath the leaves and making tea from the shadows themselves.

And finally, the last one was doing…poetry. He was speaking to the leaves, reciting poems, and as he spoke, the leaves were changing along with his words. He boiled the water by hand, altering its composition with the leaves and his words, creating something unique with each sentence as he worked his way through a collection of leaves.

The whole thing was just…fascinating. But my dad didn't look impressed. "Showboating," he snorted. "Tea Ceremonies aren't about style, they're about substance." He eyed them all critically. "The artist might be ok," he admitted. "The pictures are manifestations of the leaves conceptions, reinforcing the path of each cup. She'll probably win."

We watched the rest with interest, but by and large, he was right. They all seemed to be…lacking something. All except the artist. She seemed to genuinely care about what she was doing. In the end, the judges gave her the victory, and we approached her as she packed up her supplies.

"Tea paints," my dad said with interest as we approached. "It's novel, but it retains the spirit of the ceremony. Impressive."

She didn't look up. "Thank you. It took a lot of work to perfect my process, but I believe I have come closest to the essence of what my teas mean. It's nice to meet someone who understands tha-" she froze as her eyes rose to lock on us, her mouth falling open in absolute shock. "Uncle Eli?" Huh. Well, I mean, to be fair given how many siblings my dad had that wasn't TOO unexpected. Though apparently it was as big a surprise to him as it was to me.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

My dad looked shockingly caught off guard. "Do I…know you?" He asked slowly, clearly trying to match her face to what I assumed was a list of relatives that had probably gotten way out of hand given how familiarly even distant Wyndhams had taken to referring to each other.

"I'm Victoria," she said with a sigh. "Natasha is my mother."

He nodded in understanding. "Ah, that does make sense. Have we…met? I feel like I would remember meeting a niece."

"No," she explained. "I was born after you left, so you wouldn't know me."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Then how is it that YOU know ME? Just recognizing me at first glance is a tad suspicious. Do you have some sort of mission to try to kill me? Because I remember Percy was handing those out a few decades ago."

She blinked at him in confusion. "No…you're…well you're red. And you have horns. And you look like grandpa."

He stared at her for a moment, assessing, before nodding to the rest of us. "She checks out."

My mother smacked him upside the head with a glare. "Go stand over there," she snapped in exasperation. He sulked, but did as she told him, and she rolled her eyes, muttering to herself. "Honestly, man's the next best thing to an intergalactic information broker and can't even recognize his own niece."

My dad, who had stalked off to stand under a roof where she'd point, called back over his shoulder (he was facing away in a fit of pique) "I have like twenty of them! I cannot be reasonably expected to keep track!"

I caught a slight smile on my mom's face, but she buried it. It was enough for me to suss out that this was a bit of theater to help my cousin feel a bit more at ease. My father's reputation among the WCP was pretty fearsome, and a lot of my relatives were terrified of him (which, having seen him rip the souls from living A-rankers I couldn't exactly fault them for). It made sense that they would want to help him seem more approachable for my potential cabinet members.

My mother turned to Victoria with a warm smile. "I'm sorry about him, dear. He can get a little focused. He didn't mean anything by it."

My cousin snorted. "Oh, not at all. Honestly I was kind of relieved he didn't know me." Her eyes widened. "Not that I'm not pleased to meet him. It's just he's…well…Uncle Eli. He's kind of the family boogeyman." She shot him an appraising look. "He's not what I expected."

"You're RUINING my reputation, woman!" My dad called dramatically without glancing at them.

My mom just winked at Victoria. "Now, I don't think that's true. Vicky seems like a lovely girl. You can keep a secret, can't you dearheart?"

She shrugged. "I mean, sure. Kind of the family business. At least when you're like me. I don't get to participate in much of the other stuff." Her smile was bitter. "No one has much use for the defectives."

My dad actually did turn at that, his eyes narrowing. "Are they still using that term? Moronic mindset. Everyone can be useful, if you have the brains to put them to work."

Staring at him, she looked…surprised. "That's…I can't actually tell if that's sweet or not. But…thank you? And the term has fallen out of favor. It's not something people say to my face, really, it just kind of goes unspoken."

"Well, we actually DO have a use for you," I said dryly. "If you're interested. Not to mention you'll get to participate in plenty of the 'other stuff'. If you know who he is I'm guessing you know who I am?" I was a bit surprised she hadn't commented already, but to be fair my parents were forces of nature who could not be denied. Thankfully their dramatics and magnetic personalities seemed to have skipped a generation.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I KNOW who the next Wishmaster is? Yes, I have a passing idea of who the future leader of my whole faction is, thanks."

"Then do you know what a cabinet is?" I asked with a laugh.

Frowning, she shook her head. "I mean…a place where you put your dishes? From context I'm guessing you mean something else though."

"Yeah, the Wishmaster gets a small council of…you could call them advisors maybe? It's not a requirement but anyone sane would avail themselves of the opportunity." I grinned at her disbelief. "Which of course is why Aiden doesn't have one, and you've probably never heard of the concept."

Vicky was around my age, I was pretty sure. Maybe a bit older, because she was born after dad left, but he'd left the WCP well before having me and Chelsea, after the last succession war. She could be anywhere from a hundred to twenty, come to think of it. Managing to reach this level (she was a late D-ranker) with no wish power at her age was pretty impressive, though I guessed growing up in the Palace probably had its perks.

Regardless, because she was a member of my generation (give or take), it made sense she wasn't familiar with the concept of cabinets any more than I was, since Aiden didn't have one, and I doubt he'd have enjoyed everyone else talking about how dumb that was.

"So this cabinet," she said slowly. "I take it you're interested in me being on it. Which I can't really understand because you just watched me make tea and what could that possibly qualify me for? But assuming that IS what you're looking for, what exactly would it entail and what would I get out of it."

I laughed at her forthright question. "If I had any doubt we were related, that would have put it to rest. 'What's in it for me?' might as well be the Wyndham family motto. But your Tea Ceremony has more to do with you being picked than you might expect." I gave her a brief explanation of the cabinet positions.

Luckily, she was smart enough to pick up my intentions after I explained. Smart enough, but still not EXPECTING it to happen. She just kind of stared at me. "You want me to…work for you? To become a member of your cabinet and be part of the ruling council of the entire WCP?"

"I mean, ish," I said with a shrug. "The elders kind of run things. The Wishmaster is sort of ceremonial, and we share the power with the old guys. And don't think of it as an opportunity. Think of it as having to do all my work like all the time. Because that's what you're signing up for. All my work. At least as it relates to planning events."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Has anyone ever told you that you're not a great salesman?"

"Only right before I sold them something," I responded solemnly. "But I know this probably sounds too good to be true. It's not. I don't want you joining up thinking I'm offering you a one way ticket to easy street. This is MY ticket to easy street, and if you ALSO think you don't have to do any work then my whole strategy kind of falls apart."

That got a snort of laughter. "Well, at least you're honest. Or partly." She shot me a wry smile. "I think you want to make sure I go into this with my eyes open so I don't have regrets later."

"He does," Callie said with a snicker. "He just doesn't want to admit it. He gets that from his dad." She held out a hand. "I'm Calliope, Shane's wife. It's nice to meet you Victoria. We were really impressed by your Tea Ceremony, and we think you'd be an excellent fit for the cabinet. We ALSO think you could help us find other talented and trustworthy cabinet members, since you'd know this place a lot better than us."

I felt my heart warm. Not because she decided to weigh in, but because I could feel WHY. She'd seen what I had with my parents, that they were trying to make Vicky feel more comfortable, and she'd been inspired. Seeing how they'd worked together seamlessly and played off each other's personalities had driven her to try to be a more active partner in my recruitment.

It was successful too. Despite my approachability, I was still the future Wishmaster. I wasn't exactly an easy casual conversation partner. Callie though, she was sweet and friendly and cheerful. Easy to talk to for anyone.

From the surge of amusement that came through the bond, she didn't agree with that assessment at all, and I must have sent it directly if she knew what I'd been thinking that exactly. I shook off that thought though, focusing on my cousin. "So, what do you say? Are you interested in being a Mistress of Ceremonies? You'll probably end up having to help take charge of this absurd coronation festival right away even before being sworn in. That's a lot of work for no credit."

She snorted. "Considering they're letting LUTHER plan it right now? I don't think I want credit. Even I can only do so much to save a party." At my cocked head, she explained. "I'm a big fan of event coordination, you don't master Tea Ceremony with an interest in organization and arrangement. Anyone here could tell you who the current event coordinator is. The branch heads take turns nominating their people. Luther is from Desmond's branch, and he's…not well liked."

"Desmond is one of the ex-Wishmasters right?" I asked, turning to where my dad was pretending not to listen ten feet away. "I'm guessing Luther was HIS Master of Ceremonies?"

He shrugged, turning around and dispensing with the farce. "Before my time, but I would assume. I've met Luther before, he's…a little much. He's very enthusiastic about bloodsports, for one. Uses a lot of antlers in his decorating. He was the one who tried to restart the Wild Hunt in the WCP a few generations ago, but it didn't take. If he's in charge of the coronation, I would expect hunts."

I grimaced. "Ew, forests, gross. Vicky, you're hired, go stop this from becoming a thing. I don't want to spend my coronation in the woods. I hate the woods."

"Don't I get a say in this?" she protested. "We were just having this whole conversation about how big a commitment this is and then you just press gang me?" She glanced at Callie in faux outrage. "Don't you have anything to say here?"

"Nope, I hate the woods even more than he does," my wife denied. "But you weren't going to turn us down anyway, were you?"

Vicky just pouted. "No, but it doesn't bode well for me that I'm already being taken for granted and I haven't even started yet. Guess I should put together a list of possible cabinet members too. Though I imagine you'll still check the tournaments. How many positions are open?"

"Oooh! I know!" came a familiar bubbly voice. "It's four! So far we have you and me and Crell." Bethy came bouncing out of the group we'd brought with us, throwing her arms around Vicky in a friendly hug. "It's SO nice to meet you. I can just tell we're going to be best friends. Your tea stuff was so pretty! I want to learn to do that with wine! I make wine by the way, also I drink blood. I'm a vampire you know. My name is Bethy and I'm Shane's bestie and his Mistress of CHALLENGE!" She bellowed the last word like she was proclaiming to to the cosmos, stepping back to spread her arms wide.

Vicky just stared at her in confusion. "You'll get used to that," I lied. Maybe I should have been honest with her, but this seemed like it was the kinder option. Besides, she wouldn't get USED to it, but it would at least become less jarring. She'd learn to love Bethy as much as the rest of us. Probably.

 

[Vongrak]

She'd learn to love Bethy as much as the rest of us. Probably.

Click to shrink...

No probably about it. Loving Bethy is not a question it's an inevitability. That or death. Those are her only two options.

 

[Hyperion47]

She'd learn to love Bethy as much as the rest of us. Probably.

Click to shrink...

Bethy is a riot,at first.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Bethy is a riot,at first.

Click to shrink...

She continues to be the most popular character in the story as far as I can tell lmao.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So," I asked my cousin as we sat down at a nearby table. "How about you make us some tea and we talk about some of the potential recruits you might know about?" I had to admit, I was REALLY interested in trying the tea. It was a picture in a cup. Some of the images had been of animals, plants, even some natural forces. I really wanted to know what a lightning storm tasted like.

She chuckled at my expression. "Well, you ARE the boss. Who is going to be attending this little tea party?"

I glanced around. My parents and grandparents were both gone, as were Zeke and Stella. Chelsea, Bethy, Gabe, Abel, Mel, Callie, and I were the only ones left. "Guess just the seven of us," I shrugged. "Now, why don't you tell us about the tea before we start. I'm guessing the different blends are better for different things?"

Her face lit up. "Of course." She pulled out her palette of paints. "Now these are just my basic color mixtures, I tend to do them on elemental or attribute lines. It keeps things simple. But for custom blends we can get a little more esoteric. How would you describe your ability?"

Assuming she didn't mean the obvious one, I hummed to myself. "I guess…video games come to life, turn me into a bunch of demons and lets me wear a lot of hats?"

She stared at me in confusion. Callie hummed introspectively. "Actually…that's pretty accurate, though I could see how it would be completely unhelpful. Do you have a mix that would work with his wish power?"

"Maybe," she grimaced. "I don't associate with a lot of bloodline holders, but I guess I DO have a blend I've been experimenting with."

She reached into the bag hanging at her waist, pulling out a small grey tin and then a mortar. She dropped some of the leaves in, ground them up, and then dropped in a few other plants. "Bit of Dreamshade, some essence of desire, Paradise Poppies," she paused. "Don't worry about those, they aren't euphoric in teas. Or addictive. And finish it off with…hmm, you mentioned games. Hah, Puzzle Violets. That'll work."

The resulting mix of colors came out a sort of radiating sparkly violet that reminded me of wish lightning. Dipping her brush, she started to paint.

Using the purple as a base, she slowly painted out a sunset, with Callie and I standing below it on a cliff holding hands. The purple made up most of the sky, and she used a few other colors as secondary binders. Finally, she finished, then picked up the page. Lifting it, she dropped the paper, her hands quickly moving to pour boiling water into the cups. As it reached a level with her eyeline, she BLEW on the page, and the image just floated off.

Drifting into the air, it split in two, half sinking into each cup. Steam hissed up from the teacups, and within the steam I could see images of Callie and I together watching the sun sink below the horizon.

I reached down, picking one up, and she nodded at me with a smile, pushing the other toward my wife. Callie picked hers up, and we each took a sip, and it was…I had no words.

It TASTED like sunset. Like love and companionship and dreams fulfilled. I could taste the Wish in there, but that wasn't the POINT. I'd assumed she'd make the tea to capitalize on my powers, but that wasn't it. That was just a carrier, to flavor the emotions, to deliver the sensation in a way that connected with me.

I felt Callie get the same thing through the bond. Each of us feeling half of the story, and the bond carrying it back and forth, echoing between us and growing louder with each repeat.

"That's…" I breathed, steam flowing from my mouth. "I don't understand."

Vicky nodded, reaching back to tie her hair up., smudging a bit of glowing purple on her cheek as she did. She had the same sandy hair as I did, though her eyes were steel grey rather than the usual Wyndham green. "Yup. I figured." She winked at me. "You two are pretty obvious, and anyone whose talked to you for more than five minutes can pick up how crazy about each other you are. I'd be a pretty terrible artist if I couldn't put that down in paint."

"Yeah," I said dryly. "Can you imagine? What about the others? Think you can do them?"

She hummed, glancing at Bethy next. "Bloodnettle flowers, Sunshine Daffodils and…" she sniffed, eyes narrowing. "Tantalus Root. As a base shade. Something like loyalty for depth, maybe some hidden pain for shading." She bit her lip as she dug back into her bag and started painting again.

This time the image was a little different. A blood red teddy bear sitting in a dark room, red moonlight pouring through the window covered by clouds, dim enough to make it tough to see.

She raised the paper when she was done and tapped it into a cup, then pushed it over to the vampire. Bethy, raised an eyebrow but shrugged, lifting it to her lips to sip. Her eyes fluttered. "That tastes like…home. Sewing with mama on one of her good days, going with daddy to see the opera."

"Ok, that's not just observation," I said flatly. "You're DOING something."

She shrugged. "I see the world like an artist. We find shades of color other people don't know to look for. Is it a function of my Skill? Yeah, but it's not really active. It's not something I'm DOING, it's something I'm BEING."

And I realized why my dad was so interested in me working with her. Because really, what was a party but creating a painting using the emotions of all the guests. Finding the emotional shade every person projected and creating something not just harmonious, but better than the sum of its parts.

Abel slammed his hands down on the table. "Alright, my turn," he said boldly. "I bet it's not even that impressive. I mean tea is great. But like, I can handle it, even if Bethy can't. And why pick her to be your Champion. I would be an awesome champion. How is she better than me?"

"I mean…" I said slowly. "Aside from like…comprehensively?"

"That was a rhetorical question," he snapped in aggravation. "I wasn't actually asking you to NAME a way."

I shrugged. "Then I guess I gave you a rhetorical answer."

He glared at me, but I pretended not to see him. I MIGHT have been taking out my urge to banter on Abel. I also MIGHT have been holding a bit of a grudge from training. He rolled his eyes, and turned to Vicky. "Alright, go ahead. I can take it."

Despite his confrontational tone though, I could see excitement behind his eyes. I was pretty sure he was trying to goad her into making something more visceral for him. I wasn't sure if it was working, but at least he seemed pumped about it. So she started painting, and I took the time to ask her about some other possible cabinet members.

"So, any ideas about where we could find a Master of Secrets?" I asked with a sigh. "Becuase I'll be honest, that one seems like the hardest to pin down."

She hummed as she painted. "Maybe," she said slowly. "I mean, there are definitely plenty of information brokers. Tons of information brokers. Too many honestly. Like this is the WCP, everyone is selling something, and information is easy to get. Or at least easy to get information is. If you're talking about reliable sources of genuine secrets, the list narrows a bit."

I didn't rush her. She was thinking as she painted, more talking out loud than answering, and I wasn't in a rush. "Maybe Radia, or possibly Carey. Scott or Decker might be viable options."

"You seem unsure," I said skeptically. "Isn't there someone that springs to mind when you think secrets. Some name that immediately pops into your head as the best option? Who was the first person you thought of?"

"Wulf," she admitted after a slight pause. "But he's…odd. Almost impossible to find for one thing. But he has some kind of sensory Ability. He hears things you don't say, responds to questions you didn't ask. I just…I don't know. I don't think he's 'politics' material. You don't want him representing you…anywhere."

I shook my head as she blew the picture of an armored pit fighter into a cup and pushed it over to Abel. "It's not a problem. The Master of Secrets isn't really…well they're not customer facing, to put it in a weird but accurate way. They won't interact with anyone but me. And…well, whoever their sources are." I paused as Abel closed his eyes, inhaling as he processed his cup of tea. "Also how come the paintings are different for us. In the ceremony the climbed off the page?"

"Because I'm putting in effort," she said as she started mixing paints again. "Those were just individual doodles. These are full scenes relevant to your lives. It's a more involved process, but the result is more personalized."

"Makes sense," I nodded. "So, what do you think? Can you find this…Wulf?"

She shrugged. "I can ask around. If nothing else word will get back to him. It'll be up to him if he gets in touch after that. But he probably will. He seems like the type."

"What type is that?" I asked with amusement.

"The type who's looking for somewhere to belong," she answered bluntly. "Lot of that going around here." She glanced past me towards the rest of the village. "It can be…empty. The WCP is all about getting ahead, but for those of us who never will, it feels aimless. I've got it better than most, granted. Grandpa doesn't care much about us, but he takes care of my mom, and she takes care of me. Some of the other branch members don't even bother with that."

There were only thirteen S-rankers, and a LOT more Wyndhams than that. Not everyone could be a direct descendant from an S-ranker, at least not in recent memory. If Vicky was overlooked this bad despite being my grandfathers grandkid, how bad was it for the others.

I wanted to do…something. To help. But what was I supposed to do? Tell everyone to be nice? Stop treating them like shit? That had zero chances of working if I was even able to codify it, which I wouldn't be able to. It was yet another thing on the list of shit I was going to have to fix with no earthly idea how to DO that.

Sighing, I shook my head. One step at a time. First get my cabinet together, then get through the coronation, then recruit vanished gods to save the universe, THEN fix my fucked up family. It helped to put my priorities in order. Not.

"Put the word out," I told her, leaning back as she passed a cup to my sister. "Let him know we're looking for a meeting. I'm not promising anything based on hearsay, so don't imply that, but I want to meet him. I can tell a lot about a person on first meeting." Dantalion could read information from anyone. I could scan him for a bit and see what he was like, then go from there.

"You're the boss," she said with a laugh. "I'll make it happen. Now, as for the others, I believe you wanted to check out some tournaments? Because for your Master of Banking, I know JUST the place." Judging by her sadistic grin, I had a feeling this would be much less entertaining for me than for her, but what else was new. I nodded in concession and she laughed. "That's the spirit. Next stop: Kingdom Siege."

 

[nicolebolas]

I would love to get into this story, it seems really fun from the little I could read on this site. Sadly as a broke ass bitch I really can't start in what would be the 11th boom without reading the other 10. I really wish I saw this thread in its infancy so I could have read along with the story.