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(WLTK) B2 - Chapter 29: "Something's Bugging Me."
🕑 Added 2025-08-05 05:29:46 +0000 UTCHazel cocked her head, the oversized tail behind her flicking like a question mark. Jeremiah’s lips parted to answer her, but before he could, a flutter of blue light sliced through the air. Mero appeared over his shoulder in a rush of iridescent wings and exasperation.
“Now, Hazel, none of that,” the fairy scolded, folding his arms as he hovered. “This isn’t why I asked you to come.”
Hazel clicked her tongue and shot him a sidelong look, mischief warring with mock offense. “Spoilsport,” she muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.
Jeremiah blinked, momentarily at a loss. He glanced from Hazel to Mero and back again, searching their faces for some explanation. “Wait—what do you mean, asked her to come?” he managed, voice thin with confusion.
Mero landed lightly on a low-hanging branch, wings twitching as he straightened his cuffs with the air of someone settling in for a performance. “Allow me to introduce Hazel,” he said, gesturing grandly. “The Caretaker of the Testing Grounds.”
Hazel puffed up with theatrical pride, her grin all teeth and delight. “That’s right!” she crowed, bowing low as if expecting applause. The tail curled around her legs, half-hiding the smirk still tugging at her mouth.
Jeremiah could only stare, words failing him. “What?” he blurted, as if the forest itself might clarify things.
Hazel dissolved into laughter, arms wrapped around her ribs. “I know, I know—doesn’t really look the part, right?” She shot Mero a sly look. “Could’ve gone with something more… dignified, but I like to keep folks guessing.”
Mero rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched with something like fondness. “Don’t let the theatrics fool you. Just like I’m your guide to the System, she’s the Caretaker here. The Testing Grounds — this corner of the Wyrd Wilds — answers to her. She’s what passes for a guide for those who wander into the System’s domain.”
Hazel gave Jeremiah a short, exaggerated salute, her gaze bright and feral. “Not a bad gig, honestly. Beats babysitting the fungi down at the lower rim.”
Jeremiah’s brow furrowed, a half-dozen questions jostling for space. “But… why call her? Why the sudden need?”
Mero’s smirk sharpened. “She’s your new trainer.”
Jeremiah blinked again. “Trainer? What for? I thought this was just gathering new stock, scouting for creatures, maybe getting some field experience. Isn’t that what the Free Roam option was about?”
Mero’s eyes darkened, a rare shadow passing through the sapphire blue. “Two reasons, kid. First —” He hesitated, glancing away, and for a moment, Jeremiah glimpsed something weary in the set of his shoulders. “After the last visit… Well, the higher-ups decided you’d do better with someone who can actually respond to your needs. No more… automaton tutors.”
Hazel’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, her gaze flicking down as if she, too, knew the weight of what was left unsaid.
Jeremiah felt a prickle of embarrassment, the memory of Sarah’s phantom smile slicing through his mind. The System’s perfect illusion — his sister’s voice, her face, and the way it had left him all but unraveled in the dirt. He clenched his jaw. Jeremiah didn’t want to think a repeat would have left him in such a… terrible state. More so if he knew it was coming. Yet, some part of him was grateful he wouldn’t have to test that theory.
“The other reason,” Mero pressed on, “is simple. Free Roam is a different beast from your curated tutorials. No scripts. No bumpers. Things can get… dangerous out here, even for a User with the full kit like you. A live guide — someone who can think on their feet — is the safest bet, and there’s only so much I, personally, can actually do for you.” He shot Hazel a meaningful look. “Besides, she’s got a knack for keeping people from getting themselves eaten.”
Hazel straightened, pride swelling visibly in her slight frame. “Think of me as your tour guide, animal wrangler, and — if you’re lucky — occasional lifesaver.” Her bright eyes danced as she threw Jeremiah a wink, mischief curling at the corners of her mouth. “Just don’t expect me to do all the work for you.”
Jeremiah let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. So, what’s lesson one? How not to get lost and eaten?”
Hazel’s tail flicked with amusement as she began to circle him, steps light and predatory. “Lesson one,” she declared, then spun to point dramatically at the log, “is this.”
Jeremiah followed her gesture to where the Ferrospark Beetles still clashed, their metallic horns sparking in the filtered sunlight.
“If I’m going to help you,” Hazel continued, eyes sharp, “I need to know what you can actually do. So here’s your first test: subdue those beetles.”
He blinked, then managed a crooked smile. “Easy enough.” He squared his shoulders and turned toward the beetles, intent on summoning the familiar System thread. But before he could focus, Hazel’s voice cut through, quick and firm.
“Without any of your fancy bond hijinks.”
Jeremiah flinched, shooting her an incredulous look. “If I can’t bond with it, how exactly am I supposed to subdue it?”
Hazel grinned, stretching out her hands and making playful, exaggerated grabby gestures. “The old-fashioned way. Like anyone else would.”
Jeremiah sighed, shoulders sagging in resignation. “Fine, fine…” It was a hassle, but these beetles were just G Grade, and the lower end at that. He squared himself and slipped forward, boots soft against the moss, trying to keep his movements smooth and quiet.
Almost immediately, the duel on the log came to a halt. Both beetles turned in eerie unison, their antennae slicing the air. For a brief moment, Jeremiah froze under their attention. Then, with a sudden snap, their armored shells. Gossamer wings flicked free, shimmering with faint metallic colors.
He barely had time to react before the beetles hurtled off the log, homing in on him with surprising speed. Jeremiah froze for half a heartbeat, then dropped into a ready stance, muscles tensed.
“So much for the sneaky approach…” Jeremiah muttered. In a normal situation, squaring up to a pair of fist-sized insects would have felt… silly. Yet with the uniform’s boost, his stats humming under his skin, the hurdling beetles seemed too slow a crawl.
As the first beetle came within reach, Jeremiah raised his palm to swat it from the air, only to hear Hazel’s voice — sweet and sly, but edged with warning — cut through the clearing.
“Remember, Law Boy, I said subdue, not splatter!”
The words snapped his focus back. His palm strike, aimed to send the beetle hurtling, twisted aside at the last possible moment. Still, the beetle’s horn grazed his hand — a bright, burning sting blooming across his skin. Jeremiah hissed, fingers curling, and barely managed to sidestep as the second beetle barreled past, its jagged horn scraping along the reinforced leather of his uniform.
Jeremiah’s breath hissed through his teeth as he stared at the angry red line blooming across his palm. It stung — more than it should have, given his boosted stats — and for a heartbeat, he flexed his fingers, half in disbelief. The cut was shallow, a warning more than a wound, but it crystallized the threat: no matter their size or Grade, they still had what amounted to organic knives on their face.
From the edge of the clearing, Hazel whistled and propped her chin on a fist, her tail curling with evident satisfaction. “Careful, Law Boy! They’re pricklier than they look.”
Mero lounged on his branch, sapphire wings fanned, his usual dry smile in place. “Only a paper cut for now. You get cocky, you’ll be picking pieces of shell out of your hide next.”
Billy, floating a few feet above, waved an enthusiastic tentacle at Jeremiah, encouragement and excitement fizzing down their link. ‘You can do it!’ the sensation sang. Jeremiah couldn’t help but snort at the eager energy pouring through their bond.
He forced his gaze back to the beetles as they reoriented, horns gleaming with a cold metallic shimmer, shells iridescent in the fractured light. They circled for another charge, moving with a coordination that was almost eerie. Jeremiah let his breath out, slow and steady, planting his boots in the moss.
Can I just… knock one out? he wondered, Just a tap, nothing permanent? But no — he dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it surfaced. With these stats, I’d probably splatter the damn thing without meaning to. I haven’t even begun to figure out the limits of this body. And if I misjudge… insects don’t heal the way mammals do. If I cracked that shell, I might as well have killed it outright.
The beetles charged, a two-pronged attack, and this time Jeremiah moved with focus. He sidestepped the first, then spun as the second whistled past his thigh, its horn grazing the air. He felt the rush of their passing, the whip and snap of wings, and knew that even a glancing hit to his face or throat could end this with blood.
He ducked low behind a broad trunk, pulse thundering in his ears. Maybe if I could catch one midair… His eyes darted to the nearest beetle as it circled back, and he instantly shook his head. The legs, the spikes — trying to grab one barehanded would be like catching a fastball made of razor wire. No, that’s asking for stitches. Not to mention tetanus.
The realization slid into place then, sharp and unwelcome. You idiot. You thought you’d prepped for everything, but you’ve been leaning on the counting on the bonds too much. He scanned his surroundings, cataloguing every shadow, every root. You packed food, tools, a tent… but you never asked what you’d do if the contracts didn’t work. Or if a beast refused you. You still thought this would play out like a game. Walk in, make some contacts, walk out with the loot. God, you even forgot basic animal handling. What kind of vet — what kind of caretaker — forgets the catch pole, or the restraint blanket?
He cut the thoughts off before he got lost in them.
I can kick myself later. What do I have? Jeremiah’s hand dropped to his side, patting his belt and the many pouches stitched into the Caretaker’s uniform. Rope, multitool, a pouch of talismans — he stilled, eyes flickering to the slim stack of prepped beast talismans tucked into his jacket.
He grinned. Okay, not hopeless yet. Just need the right moment.
Jeremiah ducked around the trunk and locked eyes with Billy, sending a mental image.
The response was immediate — a jolt of excitement, a swirl of bubbles, and a determined yes!
Two more dodges — the beetles were learning, adjusting, but so was he — and then Jeremiah gave the signal.
Billy zipped forward, his bubble flexing as he picked up speed. The kraken wasn’t as fast as the beetles in open air, but he didn’t need to be. He only needed to intercept. Billy’s shimmering sphere slammed into the nearer beetle just as it banked to loop around, the bubble hardening on contact. The force of the impact sent the beetle spinning in a wild tumble, legs splayed, landing with a crunch in a tangle of viny undergrowth.
“Now!” Jeremiah called, fumbling in his pocket for a talisman. He pulled it out — calligraphy blooming across the parchment in thick, curling vines — and grinned.
—✦—
Minor Floramancy
Rank: G
Keywords: Plant Magic, Utility, Nature
Description: “The tangle of wild roots answers the silent call of those who know their language.”
Channel the subtle plant magic of the Tangled Lynx. For up to ten minutes, the user gains a minor affinity for plant magic and may cause small plants, vines, or roots within a ten-foot radius to grow, move, or entangle at will. These effects are subtle but limited only by the user’s creativity. Cannot create plants where none exist.
Uses: 3
Requirements: Presence of living plant matter in the area.
Cost: 8
—✦—
He slapped the talisman against his arm. The ink flashed, cool and alive, as the glyphs bled down his skin in a rush of green. The world snapped. The bush next to the fallen beetle shivered, then the vines twisted, thickening and surging forward in a living snare. They wrapped the dazed beetle in a writhing cocoon, flowers unfurling as they went. In seconds, only a squirming lump of green remained, twitching helplessly in the cradle of living vines.
Jeremiah whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes!” But the victory was short-lived. The second beetle let out a metallic screech and wheeled around, charging at him with reckless, desperate fury.
This time, Jeremiah didn’t move. He let the beetle close, eyes narrowed, heartbeat steady, and at the last instant, sidestepped. The beetle barreled past, horn scraping bark. Its momentum carried it straight into a tree, its weapon wedging an inch deep in the soft wood. The insect thrashed, fighting for leverage.
Jeremiah didn’t waste a second. He yanked the red Twin Boundaries pen from his pocket and, fingers flying, drew a hasty square on the trunk around the beetle. The line glowed, snapped into place — and just as the beetle wrenched itself free and turned to launch again, the barrier flashed into existence. The bug ricocheted off the invisible cube that now surrounded it, shell clacking, and dropped to the ground in a daze.
Inside the cube, the beetle paced in circles, testing every edge with stubborn headbutts. Yet, it was obvious that the creature didn’t have nearly enough strength to break the sturdy barrier.
Satisfied, Jeremiah let out a long, shaky breath.
The cheering started with Billy — who, bobbing in his bubble, performed a victory spin in the air, sending ripples of encouragement down their link. Hazel’s laughter followed, bright and ringing.
“Now that,” she called, tail waving in approval, “was proper wrangling! Well done, kid.”
Mero, for his part, offered a slow clap, wings flickering in dappled blue. “Could’ve been smoother, but points for improvisation.”
Jeremiah’s knees suddenly felt weak, the last of the adrenaline leeching from his veins. He dropped to sit on the moss, then let himself sprawl flat, staring up at the latticework of sunlit leaves. A laugh — ragged, shaky, genuine — broke from his chest, echoing through the trees.
