Chapter 3: Meeting the family

I guess that explains the lack of men. Honestly, the clues were adding up, but I was just going off of a bias that men didn’t have breasts, but the fact that just about half of the people are taller, the fact that the skill “Nutritional Milk” is a race thing, and the multiple couples of short and tall women around really should have clued me in on this.

In fact, now that I’m looking more closely, there are subtle differences between males and females other than the large height difference. Slightly larger arms, for example. Narrower hips, though still in the range of female humans. Smaller-than-“average” breasts, and a few other things I can point out.

This also means that the white-haired “woman” is actually my Dad. That explains a lot.

Just then, two couples arrive. They certainly look older but not wrinkly, like they’ve aged gracefully. Two pairs of short and tall people. One of the women looks similar to Mom, so I guess these are my grandparents. I assume the one with blue hair and eyes is my grandmother on my mom’s side, and my grandfather has red hair and green eyes. On my Dad’s side, both my grandparents have white hair; my grandmother has yellow eyes, and my grandfather has red eyes. They wear the same type of dresses as everyone else, just in different colors.

“Laeso,” they greet in turn.

We enter the large house that I thought was my Aunt’s but turns out to be my grandparents’ on my mom’s side—if the near-lifelike paintings of my Mom and Aunt as children are any indicator. Still, how did they get blue paint? I thought blue dye was hard to come by? Anyway, the house sports a large community room that can easily fit dozens of people and has a kitchen nearby where it seems several people are making food.

We gather in the lounge, and it isn’t long before the rest of the extended family arrives. More aunts, uncles, and cousins, the family is larger than I thought and...yup, that’s Nyam, although now that I know what to look for—she is a he.

Upon seeing me in Mom’s arms, Nyam’s face sours. Great, the trouble starts now.

Nyam surprisingly doesn’t cause too much trouble, but I guess he’s still getting attention with how many adults are around; although I’m getting much more and not the good kind, I am getting that awful baby talk again... blech.

Once everyone has arrived, we sit in well-made and stylized chairs arranged in a half-circle—well, I’m being held, this time by my Dad. To start off this event, Dad and Mom, when prompted, stand and walk to the center to show off the newest member of the family—me. With everybody lined up in a neat half-circle, I can easily get a clear picture of the entire family.

At least half of the family has the same Royal blue hair color that Mom, Aunty, and, if the genetic pattern is anything to go by, I do too. The others all have different hair colors, and the pairings of them with the blue hairs show that the children are slightly more likely to inherit blue hair even if it’s not the royal blue shade.

Mom and Dad talk for a few minutes, probably about me and some other stuff. Some things make people laugh, and I hope that isn’t something I’ve done. After introducing me to the family, we sit back down, and Dad passes me off to Mom. I watch as more people go to the center to talk, show off a talent, or something they made. One girl, maybe about fourteen, shows a beautiful one-piece dress with embroidery tastefully decorating the whole thing, kinda like spiderwebs mixed with tribal art. The dress wraps around the breasts, connects to the back with a Y and has an amethyst shell holding the wraps together. The “webs” starts on the left and spreads from there.

A “man” — it’s still kind of hard to think of them as men considering how feminine they are — shows off a masterfully made and decorated drum, but instead of leather, it seems to be some sort of treated cloth for the part you strike. There’s a small hole that one can cover with a hand to change the sound. The man skillfully plays the drum, not a full song, as his purpose is to show off the drum, so I guess his profession is as an instrument maker.

Once show-and-tell is over, we begin the main socializing event. The few children run off to play; thankfully, I’m not harassed by Nyam. A few people go into the kitchen to finish cooking up food for everybody, and a surprising amount of people move off to the side to play music. they must have reherssed or something as they all quickly start following the lead. Occasionally more will join as others leave to take a break from playing.

There’s some dancing, and I’m passed off to my Aunt as my parents dance together—they are, like many, graceful in their moves. It dawns on me that these people are artists, taking pride in learning music and painting, in dancing and crafting. Probably everybody has been forced to learn more than one art to pursue.

Considering they probably worship Myrou, the Goddess of Beauty and Creativity, it should not have been surprising that they take beauty, art, and crafts seriously. Hmm, if I have to choose... Well, I’ve always wanted to be an artist—at least I get that feeling about my past life. Maybe I was one? I dunno.

Usually, I’ll be put in my crib to rest by now, and admittedly, I’ve fallen asleep while meditating more often than not. But today is the family gathering, so I’m being passed around from person to person, and I’m wiped out. After nursing, I pass out, only to be rudely woken up sometime later, having my ears pulled.

Fuck you, Nyam!

I hear the scampering of not one but two little bodies as I wail. It takes Mom a long time and a lot of soothing for me to stop crying. I fall back asleep crying, being surprisingly tiring. I would have kept crying because if Nyam wanted to be my problem, I’d make him everyone else’s problem too.

I wake up around the time for an after-work bath. The whole extended family crowds a bathing area and takes longer than usual to get out. With how many bathing areas there are, I doubt anyone is really inconvenienced. After the bath, everyone goes home, and finally, I can rest without worry of some brats bullying me.

***

Three days later, we wake up early; well, I’m woken up by being picked up. Instead of visiting some new place, Mom takes me and goes to the docks along with Dad. We get on a large boat—large for these people, anyway. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of boats on the waters, all heading to one location, Temple Island. The Aurora waterfall... Aurora-fall looks to be sucked into the top of the pyramid, and as we get closer to the island, I can feel the increase in mana. It feels like the air gets heavier and thicker or like being underwater.

Temple Island is very close to ours, and now that I see from afar, our’s is one of the larger ones, not as large as Temple Island, though. The dragon is off somewhere flying around, probably fishing up Krakens or whatever dragons eat.

Today seems to be a special day for some reason, everyone, and I mean everyone, is rowing to Temple Island. Thousands of boats are on the water, all heading toward one location, Temple Island. We ride through the steam of the sea, not bothered by the heat nor the humidity; in fact, it feels rather nice.

We dock at the island where a warehouse and a few other builds are. Stone Roads with grass sprouting between the stones branch out from the docks, one heads to the pyramid temple, which stands not too far from the docks. Another road leads to a forest with neatly lined up trees on one side. Another road stretches off to the distance to several large pits in the ground, and the last road goes beyond the horizon.

As we walk closer to the Temple and now I can get a better look at it. Liquid fire runs down from the top of the gold accentuated stone, pooling in the intricately etched stepped sections on each side of the stairs leading up the mountainous pyramid. Grooves have been carved at the corners to direct the flames down into pools of the flames.

From the bottom stepped part of the Pyramid corners flows aqueducts which carries the liquid flames to the corners of the gold accentuated stone walls surrounding the premise of the Temple with an archway leading to the inner entrance of the Temple. The entrance into the Temple splits the stairs to the top, where grand golden designs are displayed around the frame of the equally grand door.

The top of the pyramid looks to be a gemstone with swirling lights glowing from within a dark void. Supporting it are four golden pillars, and beneath it is a pool of liquid fire which is fed by the gemstone piece on top. I can see a faint twirling storm of the mana aurora falling into the pyramid top; the sheer amount of mana the artifact is absorbing makes me realize that without it, no life can live in this volcano. I don’t know how I came to realize that, but I know that the mana in the air will quickly kill anyone, except for the dragon probably. As if to confirm my suspicions, I get a notification.

Ting! You have gained Mana Toxicity Tolerance.

Mana Toxicity Tolerance: Being exposed to high amounts of mana density can lead to a build-up of mana, poisoning you. This skill will help you tolerate mana poisoning.

I wonder how long that has sat there, collecting energy, protecting my people from dying. Who made it? Why live here at the mercy of this Temple? My marveling at the grand structure is interrupted as several people start crowding around me and my parents, some cooing over me and others greeting my parents like long-lost friends; it seems like Dad has moved to our island some time ago and left some friends behind.

The Runalymo people sure love their social gatherings, first is the gathering at the end of every day, then the family get-together and now this. They like to show off their creations, their family, their skills. These people probably form bonds very easily; will I have to do the same?

I see a lot of children running around and a few babies as well; it looks like I’m not the only one born this year. There’s a playground on the nearby beach with a few balls, and the children gather there to play some games, not interested in the adults’ mingling.

A group of early teenagers plays some volleyball-type game with four “nets.” The nets are long pieces of cloth held up by four wooden poles in the ground. A net is set to divide from the ground up to near the middle, then there’s a gap, and another “net” is tied to block the top. Between the poles, to which the other nets are tied, is a gap to form a vertical gap and a horizontal gap between the four nets.

It seems like passing the ball through the gaps earns you points or something. The ball is passed by bumping it to other players to try and score a point on the other team; only the server is allowed to hold the ball when the ball is being served. It seems the horizontal gap is worth more points than the vertical one as most kids try to go for the horizontal ones.

Other than children playing, I also see some exchange of goods and coins here and there. Businessmen... businesswomen... whatever, will always do their thing no matter the occasion, it seems.

I’m stuck with Mom and Dad, currently in Dad’s arms while Mom talks with a few long-distance friends. Dad has gotten a small break from his friends and is currently playing with me. He... she? Can they even count as men? They’re essentially women with dicks... Know what? I’ll just refer to them as “she,” less confusion on my part; a she with a downstairs package. I believe there was a word for that—I think it was...Hermaphrodite? Something like that.

Anyway, Dad is trying...her? Herm? It’ll work. Trying herm hand at peekaboo, I’m not amused. I just look away to more interesting things. Dad looks dejected, herm red eyes looking sad as herm white ears droop, which perks up as Dad gets an idea and swings me around.

“Whaa!” I cry in surprise.

Please don’t swing me around like that. I never liked roller coasters before, and I won’t like them now!

Dad sighs in resignation as I squirm around and cry, muttering something to herself. After some time, I don’t know how long, everybody trails onto one of the roads to the pits. As we near, I see a huge inset coliseum comes into view, with decorated banners displayed. Instead of building up, it’s dug in the ground. It’s enormous with hundreds—no, thousands of people already seated. I didn’t realize there were so many people. Around half, probably more, of the seats are already filled. My family chooses a row in the middle and sits together.

Once the vast majority of people sit, two people walk down a flight of stairs that divides the audience into two half circles. They wear magnificent capes and very little clothing, pretty much a bikini. At least it makes it easy to see who’s a hermaphrodite or female. In this case, both are hermaphrodites. Once at the sand of the pit, they enter a battle stance.

The fight starts, and the contestants sling spells at each other, and eventually, one wins over the other. A set of fighters enter then, more after another winner is declared. A tournament of battle prowess is fought between all the islands. Some people cheer more for their island fighters, but they never boo the other side, accepting defeat with grace when it happens; there can only be one grand winner after all.

A sense of wonderment fills me at the sight of the fight, not because of the fighting itself but rather the display of supernatural abilities; It cements the fact that I really am in a world filled with fantastical things. Something about my dormant past life—I’m not sure what — is so entranced by magic. It’s just a natural thing, right? I’m not this entranced by the wind or the water. Magic, yes, spirits, yes, those fascinated me, but not “mundane” things, but a warrior’s fighting prowess, their supernatural speed, and their power, that can send someone flying into the stone walls of which they can survive, that, to me is fantastical.

Once the battle tournament is done, the Olympic-style contests start. Speed races, throwing competitions—things like that. Since all competitors can compete at the same time, it goes by a lot faster.

This is also interesting to watch. Not the competitions themselves but the competitor’s supernatural abilities. The races have people blitz around as they become blurs— the racers have to wear distinct colors to be identified as a colored blur. The strength throw has them hurling boulders, and the magic contests have people summon beautifully dancing flames or lights or whatever the contestants specialize in.

By the end of the day, many types of contests finish, from the battle tournament to dancing. I actually fell asleep halfway through, shortly after the after-work bath.

The evening is another socializing event as dusk falls and casts the sky in orange colors. People talk about the events — I assume — and congratulate the contestants and their island for their achievement. It’s boring, so I fall asleep through this too.