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

[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.

 

[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."