Osamaru Ta
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(WLTK) B2 - Chapter 23: "A Call To Adventure."
🕑 Added 2025-07-18 04:18:28 +0000 UTC——————————————————
Monday, October 4th, 2253 – 6:04 pm
The Mystical Menagerie.
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The last of the day’s gold pressed against the Menagerie’s windows, painting long shadows across the scuffed floorboards as Jeremiah worked a damp rag in broad, practiced circles across the cafe counter. His new uniform jacket was dusted with flour and the faint glitter of spilled sugar; a busy day left its mark in all the usual places. The distant, rhythmic whirring of the autobrooms patrolling the cafe’s tile was a soothing counterpoint, their rounded bodies trundling after every stray crumb with single-minded diligence. He paused, rolling his aching shoulders, and let his eyes sweep the shop.
Today had surprised him. He’d known the weekend would draw some attention — whispers of “that pet shop behind Sally’s” had swelled to a steady hum in the Crossroads — but he hadn’t expected so many faces. The cafe bustled from midmorning on, and even the pet shop proper, once a shy afterthought, had begun to draw curious wanderers. Most of the purchases were simple: a bag of treats, a squeaky toy, a new collar, paid for with credits more often than the quantum marks he was trying so hard to get people comfortable with. Still, he’d noticed a change in the regulars: fewer suspicious glances at the payment screen, more customers tentatively trying their luck with the QTM option. It was progress, however incremental.
He straightened, satisfied, and flicked the towel over his shoulder, just as a familiar trio’s voices rang out from the far side of the cafe.
“Jeremiah, we’re heading home!” Stella called, her braids swinging as she bounced up from the dog bed where she’d been sprawled with a grinning Tish across her lap. Her twin, Mani, was already scooping her battered backpack off the floor, while Alan laced up his boots beside the window, casting one last, lingering look at the puppies with a sigh.
“Yeah, thanks for letting us stay late again,” Mani added, voice bright, cheeks flushed from an afternoon spent corralling puppies and nibbling at Ulrick’s never-ending supply of lemon biscuits.
“See you tomorrow!” Alan grinned, his arm full of comics he’d forgotten to read.
Jeremiah found himself smiling — it was impossible not to, with the triplets’ infectious energy echoing through the closing shop. “You’re always welcome. Don’t let Sally catch you running in the street again — or she’ll have me out there chasing you with a broom.”
Stella snorted, waving. Mani and Alan chorused goodbyes as the three filed out into the cooling dusk, their laughter trailing behind.
Before the door swung closed, however, a pair of furry missiles bolted across the cafe, barking in a last, desperate plea for attention. Tish and Tosh — fur rumpled, tongues lolling — crashed headlong into the invisible wall of the Twin Boundaries at the threshold. The collision stopped them cold. Tish yelped, indignant, while Tosh simply flopped to the floor and whined, both noses pressed forlornly against air that shimmered only in Jeremiah’s sight.
He knelt, heart twisting at the disappointment on their faces. “Hey, hey, none of that,” he murmured, scooping the two into his arms. They wriggled in protest at first, but melted as he scratched behind their ears, each puppy pressing close, clinging to the warmth of his chest as he carried them away from the door.
The cafe had emptied quickly once the triplets left; now, with dusk creeping up the windows, the shop felt suddenly cavernous. Jeremiah carried the puppies past rows of emptied mugs and sunlit tables, into the quieter hush of the enclosure. He set them down gently amidst their blankets and scattered toys, brushing a stray crumb from Tosh’s fur. The pups slumped in a tangle of limbs, eyes huge and mournful.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, settling beside them. “I know you wanted to go with them. But this is just a little while, I promise. You’ll find your forever family soon, I know it.” He stroked Tish’s soft muzzle, then ruffled Tosh’s floppy ears, voice low and reassuring. “Trust me. There’s someone out there looking for you both. Someone with enough energy to keep up, even with the two of you together.”
A shimmer of blue light flickered on the edge of his vision. Mero appeared, perched atop the transparent frame of the enclosure, wings splayed in a lazy sprawl. “That’s an optimistic promise, kid,” the fairy drawled, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “Shop’s barely been open a week. Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to start making guarantees to a pair of sad mutts?”
Jeremiah laughed, a warm, tired sound. “You don’t know puppies like I do, Mero. Older animals can have a tough time finding homes, but pups and kittens? They’re gone before you can blink, most of the time. Back at the shelter, we were lucky if we kept them a week before someone fell in love.”
Mero cocked an eyebrow, dubious. “If that’s true, how come these two troublemakers are still here, giving you the world’s saddest eyes every time the door opens?”
Jeremiah hesitated, running his thumb along Tosh’s soft fur. He glanced down, a shadow flickering through his gaze. “That’s… a little more complicated.” He nudged Tish gently, and she flopped onto her back, paws batting at the air in silent protest. “Their siblings were adopted almost right away. Even Tish here — she got picked up after just a few days. But she’s a little much on her own. And once she was gone, Tosh… just shut down. Wouldn’t play, wouldn’t eat, barely moved. It was rough.”
He smiled, bittersweet. “Then, as soon as Tish was returned, he perked right back up. They were glued together from then on. Sam decided it’d be better to keep them as a pair, but it’s not easy finding someone ready for two hyper puppies. They need each other, though. That’s what makes it hard.”
Mero watched, expression softening, the usual snark in his voice mellowing. “I get it,” he said at last. “Paired adoptions are a pain. But maybe you’re right. The city’s got a way of surprising you when you least expect it.”
Jeremiah chuckled, reaching over to tug the puppies’ blankets up around their dozing bodies. “Not everything’s so gloomy. Two of Sissy’s kittens already have potential homes lined up. Even if it’s still a couple of weeks before they’re old enough, but… It’s a start.”
He glanced up, his smile growing brighter. “You know who the first one to ask was? Sally. She wants the little tortie — says something’s still eating her garden, even after cleaning up the Maddock lot. Thinks a mouser might help. At least that’s what she says.” He winked.
Mero grinned, wings flicking. “Sally? With a kitten? There’s a story I want to see unfold.”
Jeremiah laughed softly. “The second was even more unexpected. A redhead came in this morning — wouldn’t have thought much of it until she spoke. That voice… You remember the pair on the walkway?
Mero blinked, surprised. “The one who nearly caught you before you even made it through the window?”
“That’s the one.” Jeremiah’s eyes sparkled with the memory. “‘Jess’, I think her name was? She asked to reserve the runt. The little tan and beige tom. The one we almost lost after he wandered away from the litter in the night.”
Mero let out a low whistle. “Small worlds in the Crossroads, huh?”
Jeremiah nodded, the old ache of worry giving way to cautious hope. He watched the puppies snuggle closer, finally surrendering to sleep. For a moment, he let himself believe in easy endings.
Outside, the city’s hum grew softer. The cafe’s lights flickered on, painting gentle pools of warmth across the polished floor, while the autobrooms traced their patient, endless rounds — guardians of this growing, fragile haven.
For now, the Menagerie held its peace. But even as Jeremiah watched the puppies dream, he knew the quiet would not last.
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Jeremiah lingered by the enclosure even after the puppies’ breathing deepened into the slow, uneven rhythm of true sleep. In the hush, he felt the familiar press of fatigue in his limbs — the soft ache of honest work, layered over the sharper, newer tension that had haunted his thoughts since the shop first opened. He let his mind drift, following the scattered pattern of dust motes in the cafe’s amber light, until the silence was broken by the gentle, iridescent flutter of Mero’s wings.
“So,” Mero said, tone as casual as ever but eyes sharp as sapphire, “what’s the plan when the pups have gone off to a warm lap, and all the kittens are chasing yarn in someone else’s living room?”
Jeremiah rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, feeling the beginnings of a headache stir at his temples. “Hadn’t really thought about it,” he admitted. “I guess I’ll call Sam, see what’s coming in at the shelter. Maybe put out a few feelers, ask if any of the city shops have animals they can’t place.”
Mero arched a brow, the question obvious in the flick of his wings. “You guess? That doesn’t sound much like a plan, kid.”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes, though there was little real bite in it. “I know it’s not a guarantee,” he muttered. “Not every animal is right for a place like this. Too skittish, too old, too sick, too dangerous. Some just can’t handle the crowd. It’s not like I can snap my fingers and fill the shop with the right pets overnight.”
Mero considered him for a moment, then nodded. “True enough. But it’s a problem you’ll have to solve sooner rather than later. Place like this? You can’t run on empty, even for a week.”
Jeremiah let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling, letting the hum of distant traffic filter through the glass. “I could try the other shelters,” he said slowly, “maybe even the ones in the outer districts. But… I don’t have the right connections for that. At least, not enough to rely on. It’s not like the Bridge name is really popular at the moment.”
Mero tapped his chin, a sly smile blooming. “Who says those are the only options?”
Jeremiah glanced at him, suspicion flickering behind tired eyes. “You’ve got that look. What are you thinking?”
The fairy’s grin sharpened. He jerked his head toward the window, where Maddie was curled up in the last patch of fading light, eyes half-shut, her tail flicking in lazy loops. “Have ya ever thought about going out and getting your own stock?”
Jeremiah’s brow furrowed, gears turning behind his eyes. For a moment, he didn’t follow. Then, slowly, the pieces fell into place. He looked from Maddie’s languid sprawl to Mero’s knowing smirk, and back again.
“Wait,” Jeremiah said, voice uncertain. “You’re not suggesting I — what, catch wild beasts? Out in the wild?”
Mero’s shrug was infuriatingly nonchalant. “Why not? Not like you’d be breaking any laws, not here. Nexus doesn’t have poaching statutes — not unless you’re hunting protected species. In fact, half the adventurers in the city make their living culling dangerous wildlife that gets too close to the city limits. You wouldn’t be the first to bring something interesting back for a pet, either.”
Jeremiah barked a quiet laugh, more incredulous than amused. “That’s insane. Sure, some people — rich folks in Central, mostly — like the novelty of a ‘wild’ beast. But those creatures aren’t pets. Most of them are dangerous, especially to the Ungifted. It’s not just about risk, either. Not only that, but I’d have to spend days out there, if I even wanted to find anything suitable. I can’t just close up shop to go hiking through the woods.”
Mero’s eyes glittered in the fading light. “All true,” he agreed. “But not impossible. You’re forgetting you have some advantages others don’t.” He tilted his chin toward Maddie again, and this time Jeremiah felt the realization crawl up his spine.
“The contracts,” Jeremiah said quietly, and the word felt heavy in his mouth. He glanced again at the Tangled Lynx, recalling the steady, untroubled confidence with which she now prowled the shop’s margins. “Granted, Maddie was half-tame to begin with, but she’s still proof that the contracts can curve behaviour. If I could form the right contracts with the right kind of beasts…”
It wasn’t just the possibility of new beasts either. Jeremiah’s eyes drifted toward the Talisman case.
“Exactly.” Mero’s wings gave a satisfied snap. “Now you’re thinking, Jerry-boy.”
Jeremiah let himself imagine it: tracking through the tangled green of the outlands, coaxing some wary, half-mythic creature into his hands, binding it safe with a contract and bringing it home to the Menagerie. The vision was intoxicating, but already the obstacles assembled themselves in his mind. “Even if I could… where would I start? You make it sound like there’s a line of beasts waiting outside the shop.”
Mero grinned, teeth flashing in the shadows. “Who said anything about waiting outside?” He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You already know a place crawling with all sorts of wild things. New arrivals every day, all shapes and sizes.”
Jeremiah frowned, uncertain. “What are you talking about? Where?”
Mero’s smile was pure mischief as he spoke.
“The Testing Grounds.”
