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(WLTK) B2 - Chapter 35: "Planting Seeds."
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 02:35:33 +0000 UTC——————————————————
Wednesday, October 5th, 2253 – 9:05 am
The Mystic Menagerie.
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Jeremiah wiped his palms on the dish rag slung over his shoulder, the smell of soap and damp fur still clinging to his sleeves. The last of the breakfast bowls had been scrubbed and stacked, the puppies had finished their chaotic splashing in the tub and now sprawled in a warm pile by the radiator, and Milo’s steady snore rumbled from the oversized cushion at the front desk. Even Sissy had claimed one of the café chairs by the window, her glossy tortoiseshell form stretched long to soak in the narrow beam of sunlight spilling through the glass.
Jeremiah paused mid-step, a small smile tugging at his lips. She almost looked content. Maybe it was the quiet, or perhaps the kittens’ endless romps had finally tired her enough to let her guard down — whatever it was, Jeremiah would take the win.
He wiped the counter down with one last swipe, checked that the register was ready, and finally moved to the front door. The old brass latch clicked open beneath his hand. With a gentle pull, he swung the door wide to let in the morning air — cool, faintly sharp with city smoke and fresh bread from the bakery two blocks down.
And froze.
Two men sat on the bench outside the shop. When Jeremiah unlocked the door and pushed it open, both rose at once and turned toward him.
Lewis shifted from foot to foot, shoulders hunched, fingers knotted tight as if he were bracing for a scolding. His gaze skittered everywhere but Jeremiah’s face. Beside him, Bastion loomed in his quiet way, steady as a stone wall.
Jeremiah blinked, brows climbing. “I’m sorry, if I’d known someone had been waiting, I would have at least invited you in for coffee while I cleaned. Good morning, you two.”
Bastion chuckled. “Think nothing of it, Mr. Bridge. A little sunlight is good for my old bones.”
Lewis’s head jerked up, a nervous smile tugging at his mouth. “Morning, Boss. Sorry to bother you so early. We — uh — Bastion wanted to speak with you, and I thought it’d be, um… improper to bring him through the back, you know?”
Bastion patted the young man on his back and inclined his head in a courteous nod. The old man’s frame lived up to his name — broad, weathered, immovable. His jacket pulled taut across his shoulders. He carried no bluster, no looming menace, only the quiet weight of a man long accustomed to bearing the burdens of others.
Jeremiah stepped aside, sweeping a hand inward. “No bother. Come on — I just finished cleaning up. What’s going on?”
The bell above the door gave its soft jingle as they crossed inside. Lewis kept glued to Bastion’s side, casting nervous little glances like a boy caught with his hand in the candy jar.
From her chair, Sissy cracked one golden eye, the sunlight gleaming across her fur. She flicked her tail once in languid acknowledgment before tucking her chin back into her paws.
Bastion’s gaze swept the shop in a slow, deliberate circuit. The puppies sprawled in a drowsy heap by the heater, the neat rows of jars lined along the counter, the faint shimmer of the QTM machine humming in its corner. When his eyes returned to Jeremiah, they were steady, unreadable.
“You’ve done well with the place,” he said at last. His voice was low and gravel-warm, carrying weight enough to make the words more judgment than compliment.
Jeremiah folded the rag in his hands and set it aside, watching him cautiously. “Thanks.”
“Thanks,” Jeremiah said cautiously. He folded the rag and set it on the counter, waiting.
Bastion’s gaze drifted toward Lewis, who shifted uneasily at his side, and then back to Jeremiah with the faintest curl of amusement tugging at his mouth.
“This one,” Bastion said, his voice gravel-deep but not unkind, “has been showing off that Minor Floramancy ‘Beast Talisman’ thingamabob of yours to the residents.”
Lewis’s shoulders hunched. He flinched like he’d been slapped, eyes darting upward just long enough to catch Jeremiah’s reaction before plummeting back to the floor. His fingers twisted tighter into knots, the tips gone pale from the pressure.
Jeremiah blinked, the pieces falling together. That explained the boy’s jittery glances, the way he’d looked like he was waiting for the axe to fall the moment he stepped inside. Old city habits died hard, it seemed.
But instead of anger, Jeremiah felt a grin tug at his lips. He leaned forward across the counter, resting his weight on his palms.
“Really? That’s great, Lewis.”
The young man’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What—?”
“Thank you for spreading the word,” Jeremiah clarified, and this time, there was a smile tugging at his mouth, small but genuine. “The more people who know about the talismans, the better. If the residents are willing to give them a try, that’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
Lewis gawked at him, words caught behind his teeth, as if Jeremiah had spoken some alien language.
Bastion barked a laugh, the sound filling the little shop like a warm thunderclap. He clapped a massive hand down on Lewis’s back hard enough to make the boy stumble forward a half-step. “What’d I tell you, lad? I said Mr. Bridge wouldn’t mind, didn’t I?”
Lewis stumbled under the blow, spluttering, but the relief that lit his face was undeniable. Lewis flushed scarlet from collar to hairline, and he gave Bastion a sheepish, almost relieved grin.
Jeremiah only shrugged lightly and reached for the rag again. “I meant what I said,” he added. “Don’t hide it away like it’s contraband. They’re meant to be used.”
Bastion chuckled again, then folded his arms across his broad chest and grew serious once more. “Which brings me to the other matter.” He inclined his head toward the courtyard beyond the windows.. “Seeing what your magic can do… and with all that open space in the courtyard going unused, I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to let the residents set up a community garden there.”
Jeremiah froze mid-fold. His brow furrowed as he stared at Bastion, caught off guard.
The old man lifted a hand quickly, placating. “Of course, it’s your land. You’d have the final say. First pick, too, if you wanted. I just thought…” He trailed off, scratching at his jaw. “It’d be a good use of the space, is all.”
Jeremiah shook his head slowly, not in refusal but in surprise. “I wasn’t dismissing the idea. Just… I never really thought about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the window behind him. He leaned back against the counter, arms folded loosely. “I planned to keep the courtyard as green space. A place for the animals to stretch, exercise, and run off energy. And while the puppies are getting good use out of it, I can admit it’s not exactly being pushed to its fullest potential.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “But… do you really think a garden would help that much?”
Bastion’s grin returned, broad and sure. “More than you might think. For one, it’d ease the food troubles for some of the residents. Most of them scrape by — scavenging, begging, trading what little they’ve got. A garden would take the edge off. Help put proper meals on their tables. But more than that…” He glanced sidelong at Lewis.
“I’d like to use it as a teaching ground for the children.”
Jeremiah tilted his head. “For the kids?”
Bastion nodded. “The Kindergarten might do its part to give the Crossroad kids their letters and sums, but too many end up running straight to the gangs after. If we can give them something better — real skills, a chance to grow things, to use magic even — well, that’s worth more than a full belly.”
Jeremiah let the words hang. Suddenly, his mind flashed back to the Wyrd Wilds and the Cocktail bushes, the seed of an idea stirring in his mind.
He looked up, meeting Bastion’s steady eyes. “Alright. Let’s give it a try.”
Lewis’s jaw dropped. Bastion’s grin widened.
“But,” Jeremiah continued, holding up a finger, “as the courtyard is mine, Lewis, you’ll be in charge of the garden as a whole. Your responsibility, your project.”
Lewis blinked, mouth falling open. “M–me? In charge?”
Jeremiah smirked faintly. “You’re my groundskeeper, aren’t you? Did you have someone else in mind?”
Lewis’s jaw worked, then he shook his head, a spark of pride lighting behind his nerves. “No, I… I can do it.”
“Good,” Jeremiah said. “And one more thing. The shop gets first pick of any produce. In exchange, I’ll provide the Minor Floramancy talismans for the garden as needed — within reason. If people want any more, residents can buy them at a discount, or trade a portion of their harvest.”
Bastion’s laugh boomed again, warm and hearty. “Fair enough! More than fair. I knew you’d see the sense in it.” He jabbed a thick thumb toward the door. “We’ll get Ulrick to wring out the details later. Keep everything aboveboard and make sure people know the rules. Keep things neat and tidy and the like.”
“Ulrick,” Jeremiah repeated with a nod. “That works.”
The older man’s laughter rumbled as he turned toward the door. “Well then, Mr. Bridge, we’ll let you get back to your morning. You’ve given us plenty to chew on.”
Bastion clapped Lewis’s back once more, nearly sending the boy stumbling again. Lewis followed, still pink at the ears but standing a little straighter.
As the bell chimed over their heads and the pair stepped out into the morning light, Jeremiah leaned his elbows against the counter, watching them go.
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Only when Bastion and Lewis could no longer be seen in the distance did Jeremiah exhale, long and quiet. The shop hummed in their absence — the faint whir of the QTM machine, the puppies’ snuffling breaths by the heater, Milo’s steady snore. Sissy gave a slow stretch and resettled in her chair, tail flicking lazily.
“Alright,” Jeremiah muttered, pushing off the counter. “Back to work.”
With a flick of his wrist, blue light rippled across the air. The Big Book of Beasts materialized in his hand, its cover thrumming faintly. He laid it open on one of the café tables, palm pressed firm to the page. Four dull flashes followed, and with a soft thock-thock-thock-thock, plastic insect cases appeared in neat alignment across the tabletop.
Sissy stood, hissed, and bolted, claws skittering against the wood as she launched herself off the chair and vanished behind the counter. The puppies, however, perked up instantly. Tails wagged in wild arcs as they scrabbled at the chair legs, claws clicking in frantic rhythm while they tried — and failed — to climb high enough to see.
Jeremiah chuckled, giving one particularly persistent pup a gentle nudge back down with his foot. “Easy, you little maniacs. They’re not chew toys.”
He leaned down, peering through the plastic lids.
The two Ferrospark Beetles twisted in slow, stubborn circles, battering their horns against the reinforced sides. Confusion radiated from them — not emotional in the way Billy might send through their bond, but obvious enough in their clumsy persistence. The Goliath Bark Beetle sat almost placid by comparison, massive frame hunched still in its box. Jeremiah frowned slightly, unsure if the thing had genuinely settled… or if its small brain had simply forgotten it was trapped.
The last case drew his attention hardest. The Ferrospark Matron had shifted to face him directly, her burnished gold shell catching the café’s morning light. She didn’t batter her walls or thrash blindly. Instead, she remained still, horn angled forward, dark eyes bright. Through the fragile thread of attunement still binding them, Jeremiah felt something like pressure at the edge of his mind. Not demand, not quite, but… expectation.
His lips parted slightly. “Huh.”
The realization followed quickly on the heels of the feeling: the attunement link with her still pulsed faintly alive. The other three? Already faded, even though the cases had been drawn straight from stasis. A one-time trick, it seemed. It seemed forced bonds slipped loose the moment he tucked them away. But proper attunements like hers lingered. That was worth remembering.
“Morning, lad.”
The words cut through the hum of the shop like a warm breeze. Mero drifted into view, dragonfly wings scattering the sunlight as he settled to perch on the counter’s edge. His grin was sharp and bright with mischief, as if excited for whatever craziness he was sure would find Jeremiah today.
Jeremiah lifted his head, smiling faintly. “Morning, Mero.”
The fae leaned forward, eyes narrowing with curiosity as he peered down at the table. “Ahh. So these are the prizes ya dragged back with you? Hm.” His head tilted, considering each case in turn. “ I’ll grant ya, they’re interesting, to the right people maybe. But don’t see them makin’ the best pet.”
His mouth twisted into something between a smirk and a shrug.
Jeremiah huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “They’re not meant to be pets. Not in the traditional sense.”
Mero arched a fine brow, wings giving a faint flick. “Oh? Then what exactly are they?”
Jeremiah’s grin sharpened. He straightened, brushing ash-dust still clinging to his sleeves, and met Mero’s gaze squarely.
“Fighters.”
The word carried weight, hanging between them like a drawn blade.
Before Mero could probe further, Jeremiah flicked his fingers again. Blue light rippled into being above the table, lines of System text cascading into a new pane. The interface sharpened, clear and deliberate — the Shop listing he’d spent half the night hunting for.
Jeremiah’s grin widened as he scrolled to the entry, tapping it once with decisive fingers.
“Now this,” he said, voice low and alive with excitement, “is what I had in mind.”
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The Arena Arcadium: Modular Beetle Tournament Table
Rank: F
Quality: Exquisite
Keywords: Store Fixture, Competition, Modular Arena, Safety-First, Entertainment, Automation
Description: “Because every MC (Mega Coleoptera) deserves their own Tournament Arch!
A crowd-drawing centerpiece for any shop, the Arena Arcadium transforms ordinary beetle bouts into epic spectacles. Designed for fair, humane, and highly visible competition, this fixture sits comfortably on any large table and is easily assembled or reconfigured for a variety of match types.
From friendly skirmishes to legendary title matches, the Arena Arcadium ensures every contest is fair, safe, and unforgettable. Let your shop become the arena where legends — and lifelong bonds — are forged. May the best beetle win! Includes 12 spectator drones, modular tiles, and a first-year Arena League digital toolkit.
Features:
Modular Combat Zones: The surface splits and locks into a variety of enclosures: circular for duels, winding obstacle mazes for agility contests, and even “tower climb” layouts for beetles with aerial talents. Durable, arcane-flex glass and reinforced runes prevent escape or injury, automatically adjusting to beetle size and temperament.
Micro-Drone Spectator Screens: Up to twelve phone-sized drones hover or clip to the table edge, streaming high-res close-ups and dynamic replays. Spectators at even the busiest tables never miss a moment. Feeds can be projected to larger in-shop displays, or even to a customer’s own device (with owner approval).
Arena Safety Protocols:
Impact Dampening Fields activate before any collision exceeding the beetle’s safe threshold.
Pheromone Calming Bursts prevent panic, keeping bouts sporting and safe.
Automated Timeouts halt matches if either beetle is flagged by the Arena’s well-being scan (detects stress, fatigue, or minor injury), gently separating competitors for review and recovery.
BioScan Registration: Each beetle is scanned before a match; their species, stats, and match history (if enabled) display on the main screen for instant “announcer mode” flair.
Spectator Voting & Tournament Tools:
Digital brackets with System-back betting where legal.
Live polling and instant replay for judging close calls.
Prize support: winners can receive store-sponsored prizes and accreditations directly to their ICBL account.
Cleanup and Reset: Self-cleaning enchantments clear debris, sanitize surfaces, and reset the environment for the next round in under 60 seconds.
Registered with the Interstellar Coleoptera Battle League: This arena is officially recognized and licensed by the Interstellar Coleoptera Battle League (ICBL). All matches held here are sanctioned tournament events, with standings acknowledged across participating worlds, and are subject to the full breadth of ICBL regulations.
Cost: 1,000 Marks
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