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

[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.