Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 983
🕑 Added 2025-09-26 22:10:20 +0000 UTCDinner was a busy affair. Everyone from the family who lived nearby had shown up to see us off. My Uncle Anders had brought his daughters Sonya and Lara, who were losing their minds over the fact that Bethy was at the dinner. They were younger than I had been at the beginning of my journey, only fifteen or sixteen, and were HUGE fans of her music.
“I can’t believe you know Lady Nightmask,” Sonya gushed excitedly. My younger cousin was a redhead with bright green eyes. Her dimples made her eyes look bigger and more expressive, and she was enthusiastic about everything, though this was another level entirely.
Lara, the older one, had dark hair and calm blue eyes. She wasn’t as excitable, but had still been welcoming to all of us when we arrived. While she wasn’t melting down like Sonya, it was clear she was a little starstruck by Bethy. “I find your music so inspirational. I’m sorry to see you go, but I’m sure you’ll accomplish great things, Lady Bethany. I’m curious though, where have the proceeds from your concerts gone? Are you saving for something?”
To my surprise, Bethy’s face smoothed out into a serious expression. “I’ve been dedicating it to research, actually.” She said quietly. “My…dietary preferences, are a big source of frustration for me. I’ve been working on removing them as an issue.”
“Wait…you’re trying to CURE your need to drink blood?” I asked her in confusion. “That’s got to be a complicated process. Like doing brain surgery on your own trait. Do you need any help?”
“Nah,” she said with a wide smile. “I’m not doing anything that crazy. I’m not all good at that stuff like you are. I’m sticking to what I know. I’ve been trying to create a type of wine that can replace blood for vampires.”
Given what I’d seen Bethy DO with wine that wasn’t as farfetched as one might think. Callie seemed to agree. She leaned forward with interest. “How are you planning to do that? I know you have to feed from thralls or cause pain. Is there some method of mixing non thrall blood with the wine that like…infuses it with what you need without having to drink from thralls?”
“Not exactly,” Bethy said excitedly, her eyes lighting up with passion as she got to discuss her project. “See, taking blood and mixing it with wine doesn’t work. The wine dilutes the vital essence. It’s sort of complicated, but in order to create a wine that can substitute for blood I need a way to make the wine itself alive when I make it.”
Chelsea lit up. “Her solution is GENIUS. Tell them what you did!” Apparently my sister had been in on the plans. Not a surprise considering she, Bethy, and Gabe spent all their time together, especially with the angels following Callie the last few months.
Bethy shrugged modestly. “Well I was thinking about what the wine needed, and I realized that to be living wine it needs to come from living grapes. Then I got to thinking, grapes are red and grow on vines, which are KIND of like a circulatory system. So I got in touch with some local botanists and began working with them on repurposing a grape vine into a living plant with a circulatory system. Literally, a thrall vine.”
“Wait…” Callie said slowly. “You made VAMPIRIC grapes?”
“Thrall grapes,” Bethy corrected. “Vampiric grapes would just DRINK blood, which would defeat the whole purpose. But the living grapes can be carefully collected and pressed into a special wine that has shown real promise as a blood substitute. The only issue I keep running into is that I can’t grow ENOUGH of the grapes. And the blood used has to be VERY specific.”
It had been a long time since I’d been involved in any of the more physical sides of crafting. My Dust Construction Skill had been largely folded into Agares, and I’d all but abandoned enchanting. I did a lot of crafting of forms, techniques, and even skills sometimes, but it wasn’t the same.
Bethy was clearly working with physical mediums in a unique and fascinating way, and I was intrigued. “What are the requirements?” I asked her with interest.
“Well, the blood needs to come from a thrall,” she said, ticking off her fingers as she listed. “The thrall needs to be at my own rank or higher. But not too much higher, because then I won’t be able to make the wine. Also, the blood needs to be circulating. So there has to be a heart in the root system to pump it through the vines. I’ve managed to create a small vine, but to support a larger orchard we need a bigger heart.”
Chelsea nodded. “We got the one we’re using from dad. Bethy was able to transfuse it to change the blood circulation to an essence signature matching a thrall. Dayna donated a bunch of blood. Not too much at once, of course.”
I blinked at her. “Wait…DAYNA? Dayna is here? I didn’t see her when we made the trip?”
“She’s been living in my Domain,” Bethy explained. “Your dad suggested I bring her. He’s got the soul of that Heaven Murder Elf bound and he’s been using it to teach her. I think because I spend so much time with Chelsea he considers Dayna to be like a secondary bodyguard to her. Anyway, we found a Blade Bat heart that we were able to use as a basis for a root system. The energy signature from Dayna’s blood was close enough to function. But for a bigger animal, and bigger vine patches, it gets more complicated.”
“And you’re not using wishes?” I asked nonchalantly. “Because it seems like you could have skipped a few steps.”
She shook her head. “No. In order to make the wine work I need to be involved in every step of the process. It’s…personal. I’d have totally asked if I needed help though.” She winked and gave me a thumbs up. “Don’t you worry about a thing, bestie. I got this.”
Sonya, who had apparently gotten bored with shop talk, turned to beam at me. “Oh, hey I heard daddy is going with you guys for your whole conjuration thing.”
“Coronation, Sonya,” sighed Lara helplessly. “It’s a CORONATION. It’s a ceremony that involves the crowning of a ruler. Because he’s going to be the WISHMASTER. We’ve told you this like six times.
“And I told YOU that’s stupid,” my cousin said waspishly. “Because the Wishmaster is a god like great grandpa. Shane is pretty cool but he’s totally not a god.”
I laughed at that. “She’s got me there. The Wishmaster isn’t just a person. It’s also a job. The old Wishmaster retired ages ago, and there have been a bunch since then. I just got picked to be the next one.”
The fact that she didn’t get the concept of the hereditary Wishmaster title wasn’t strange. Sonya grew up in the heart of the Church, where her great grandfather was the ONLY Red Revenant and was not even remotely replaceable. The Wishmaster’s businesslike approach to inheriting the title was pretty atypical among the major factions. In fact, as far as I knew the old man was the only god to pass on his title. The rest were all being directly governed by an active deity.
In fact, I wondered if that was why the WCP wasn’t actually considered part of the five faction alliance. There were six gods, and that was widely acknowledged, but the alliance excluded one of the divine forces. I’d always been told that was because the WCP was more diffuse, but maybe there was more to it than just lacking a location.
“So it’s Uncle Eric and Uncle Sam?” I asked them with interest. “I thought we’d be bringing more A-rankers.”
My mother, who had been sitting nearby talking to my Uncle’s wife Tara, turned to chuckle at me. “That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention. I told you that each faction his a limited number of high rank slots. My parents are burning up two of ours, as are your father and I, and finally two of my brothers. Not to mention Ezekial, Sebastian, and whoever else comes, because as the Wishmaster, you don’t get your own slots since its assumed that all of the WCP are your subordinates.”
“Yeah, that sounds like the kind of political nonsense they would spout,” I sighed. “What about S-rankers? We have a few more we could invite. What about Bethy’s dad and dad’s boss?”
“Adramalech declined,” she said with a grimace. “He’s nominally a member of the Faerie Queen’s camp, and she and your ancestor don’t get along. They’re not ENEMIES, exactly, but fae are careful about entering Wishworld.”
My eyes widened. “Wishworld…wait…is the coronation being held in the VOID?”
“Not as such,” she assured me. “Wishworld, like all the godworlds of the six, has some overlap with realspace. It’s why the six eliminated the vanished gods to begin with. Too many beachheads into realspace and the universe Ascends. The majority of Wishworld is in the Void, but it’s anchored to realspace, and we’re going to be receiving visitors in the welcome palace, which is in the physical portion of the godworld.”
“Is that why the old man isn’t coming?” I asked suspiciously. “Because he doesn’t want to enter realspace?”
My dad had been listening quietly from the other side of her, but he shook his head. “No. The ancestor doesn’t attend coronations. Part of his retirement was an agreement to distance himself from politics. If he shows up at your coronation, it’ll be seen as a sign of support for your ascension to the office. He DIDN’T do that last time, or the time before. It’ll piss off the branches affiliated with previous candidates for no reason.”
“But I thought gods basically WERE their godworlds,” I pushed. “Wouldn’t he be there anyway, perceiving it all through his connection to the world?”
“Not exactly. Wishworld is massive. It covers a whole galaxy’s worth of space, pretty much.” He slowed down, choosing his words carefully. “He can be anywhere within its borders instantly, can perceive anything when his attention is focused. But he DOES need to focus. He usually doesn’t bother. Not to mention we’re at war, both in the Void and in realspace he’s actively countering the influence of other gods. Don’t look at your great grandmother as a typical deity. Black Sorrow’s habit of manifesting avatars outside of her Domain is uncommon.”
I wasn’t even sure she’d done that. Callus bordered Black Sorrow Cult Space. I wasn’t sure where her Domain WAS exactly, so she might have just been operating inside it the first time we met. As for the second time…well, that had been a special occasion, the death of a god.
Still, I was a little sad I wouldn’t see the old man there. I’d just have to take his measure when I met him in person the first time. I had to admit, I was curious what this ancient deity, from whom so much of my power came, was really like. Not just my wish ability, but Pride, my most useful pseudo Domain, came from the Great Book Heavenly Library my dad had reverse engineered from the old man. I thought about it for the rest of the meal as we talked and ate and enjoyed each other’s company. When we finally finished eating, I let myself go quiet as I considered what I might be in for as we headed back to our rooms, but I felt myself stopped by a hand on my elbow.
My mom, seeing my contemplation, smiled at me and squeezed my arm. “Don’t expect too much from the Wishmaster,” she told me softly. “He’s been alive a long time, and he’s not human in a lot of ways that might surprise you. He might look like a human, and talk like one, but never forget that you’re basically looking at a concept in the shape of a person. Wishes aren’t known for being forgiving or compassionate. If you slip up, he’ll exploit it. Just…be yourself. Slow and steady. And everything will be fine.” And with that ominous proclamation, she let me go.
Comments
Jake Thomas
All but assuring that he'll show up...
