GASP! It's finally done! This one took WAAAAAY to long. ♛———♛—————————♛———♛
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Wednesday, Nov. 2nd, 2253 — 7:32 a.m.
The Outskirts
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Jeremiah stepped out of the Tell Tale Apartments and paused just beyond the threshold.
A cold breeze slipped through the seams of his coat and settled against his skin, drawing a faint shiver from him. He’d originally put on his uniform before remembering he wasn’t headed to the shop today. Besides, the intrinsic awareness it gave him over the Mystical Menagerie would have him tempted to “stop by” and check on things every hour.
So instead, he’d thrown on the old jacket he used to wear while working for the city.
He tugged it tighter around himself, breath fogging faintly as he exhaled. As he glanced up into the pale morning sky, a single snowflake drifted down in front of him before vanishing against the dark fabric of his sleeve.
Jeremiah raised a brow.
Snow wasn’t unheard of in Prima City, but it was rare enough to stand out.
Between the natural climate and the layers of weather control woven through the city’s infrastructure, winter deeper inside Central usually amounted to little more than a mild inconvenience and an excuse for the more fashion-conscious to buy a new jacket.
In the Outskirts, things were different.
Those same protections still kept the worst of it at bay, preventing the kind of storms that formed beyond the City Shield, where magic ran unchecked, and the weather itself could turn lethal without warning. But winter out here was far less forgiving.
Another flake drifted down. Then another.
As Jeremiah stood at the entrance of the apartment building, Billy floated up beside him, hovering just over his shoulder.
Behind him, Mero crossed the doorway, hovered for all of three seconds, glanced up at the sky, and wrinkled his nose in disgust before vanishing without another word.
The young kraken watched the falling snow in silence, his small form wrapped in the faint shimmer of his bubble armor. The surface caught the drifting flakes as they passed, each white speck briefly reflecting across the transparent sphere before melting away. Billy drifted a little lower than usual, tentacles tucked tighter beneath himself as he studied the weather.
The street was quiet this early, though not empty.
A few people moved along the sidewalks, bundled in coats and scarves, heads lowered against the cold. Most kept to themselves, focused on getting where they were going, as was common in the Outskirts.
A couple of them glanced up as Jeremiah passed, offering soft greetings.
Normally, that would have been all the young kraken needed before darting forward the moment someone looked his way, looping around them in wide, excited arcs while chittering brightly for attention. It had become something of a routine over the past few weeks, one Jeremiah had grown so used to that he barely noticed anymore.
Today, Billy stayed close by his side, the young kraken’s melancholy obvious at a glance.
One local — an older man Jeremiah recognized in passing — slowed slightly as they crossed paths. His gaze flickered between them, brow creasing faintly. Jeremiah offered an apologetic smile and a polite nod. The man returned it before continuing on his way.
Jeremiah glanced toward Billy out of the corner of his eye.
Through the bond, he could feel… something. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call it. The sensation didn’t translate cleanly into words, but it was enough to know something was wrong. The usual bright, eager hum of emotion had dulled into something quieter. Heavier. Every so often, a sharp spike of frustration cut through it before fading just as quickly.
Jeremiah frowned.
“You okay, bud?” he asked as they continued down the street.
“Billy is fine…”
The response brushed against his thoughts in those strange, almost-words, clearer now than they had been yesterday.
Jeremiah stayed quiet for a moment before finally letting out a slow breath.
“Right,” he said softly, deciding not to push.
Instead, he turned his attention back toward the street and let the silence settle naturally between them as they walked.
Billy had grown.
That much was impossible to ignore.
In the two months since he’d entered Jeremiah’s life, the tiny kraken had more than tripled in size. Once, Billy had been small enough to sit comfortably in the palm of Jeremiah’s hand. Now he was closer to the size of a grapefruit, maybe larger.
And the bond between them had deepened alongside that growth.
Thoughts came more easily now. Emotions carried greater weight. More nuance.
Jeremiah had stopped thinking of Billy as just a pet weeks ago.
Only recently, though, had he started to understand what that truly meant.
Jeremiah wasn’t sure he was ready for changes like this, but he knew enough to recognize when someone needed space.
Billy would talk when he was ready.
Jeremiah just had to make sure the not-so-tiny kraken knew he’d be there when that time came.
They walked in silence for several more minutes as the snowfall slowly thickened. Not enough to stick properly, but enough to soften the hard edges of the street and add a sharper bite to the air.
Eventually, the buildings began to change.
The narrow residential stretch gave way to something broader and more open. The familiar turn onto Market Street passed beneath their feet without fanfare, and the space ahead widened into the Crossroads’ main artery.
Even this early, the market seemed to have a pulse.
The chaos from the previous week — festival crowds, constant motion, the near-overwhelming buzz of activity — had faded. What remained felt calmer now. More welcoming than it had been before the tournament.
Jeremiah slowed slightly as he took it in.
Vendors were only beginning to open their stalls while early shoppers drifted between them in loose clusters. Some chatted quietly as they walked. Others kept their heads down, focused on errands before the day truly began. Voices carried softly through the chilly morning air, blending into the background without overpowering it. Most of the permanent storefronts lining the street still sat dark, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Soon enough, the Crossroads would be crowded as residents from across the Outskirts poured in.
If you ignored the cracked pavement and the worn facades, the scene wasn’t all that different from what Jeremiah remembered of Central.
Central liked to paint the Outskirts as a cautionary tale.
Lawless. Dangerous. The kind of place where everything fell apart without the city’s protection and guidance.
And sure, some parts of the Outskirts earned that reputation. The farther out you went, the thinner the safety net became. Some districts were practically controlled by gangs. Others were, in effect, the personal strongholds of powerful Villains.
Jeremiah had heard it often enough growing up that for years he’d stopped thinking about it altogether.
But standing here now, watching people move through their morning like any other day, he found himself questioning those stories more and more.
The Outskirts were rougher around the edges, sure. Worn down in ways Central would never tolerate.
But people were still people.
Even here, they laughed. Talked. Worked. Tried to live their lives as best they could.
Maybe he couldn’t be a Hero the way Sarah had been. Maybe he couldn’t save the world or inspire millions.
But if he could make life a little easier for even a handful of people here, maybe that would be enough.
Jeremiah glanced farther down the street, toward the place he knew waited just ahead.
After some time, they arrived outside Ulrick’s bakery.
Through the slightly frosted front window, he took in the increasingly familiar shop. The homely, rustic bakery felt like it belonged to another time, with its worn brickwork and aged wooden accents. Large potted plants dotted the floor, and two enormous bark-covered trunks framed the wide display counter, where rows of fresh pastries rested beneath the warm glow of the overhead lights.
Even through the glass, he could smell warm bread and sugar drifting through the chilly morning air.
Jeremiah glanced around the bakery, but didn’t immediately spot Ulrick anywhere inside. The lights were on, though, and the pastry shelves were already half-stocked.
Probably in the back, preparing for the morning rush, Jeremiah thought to himself.
He stepped toward the door, then paused with his hand hovering near the handle.
Maybe this was a bad time.
He could always come back later. Ulrick was busy enough without Jeremiah showing up unannounced.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when the back kitchen door swung open.
Ulrick stepped through carrying a large tray piled high with pastries fresh from the oven, thin curls of steam still rising from the tops. The giant blond baker balanced the heavy tray effortlessly in one hand while nudging the door shut behind him with his hip.
His gaze stopped on the front window, and his broad face split into an immediate grin.
“Jeremiah! Good to see you, lad!” Ulrick called as he crossed toward the counter. His gaze flickered toward Billy, who hovered beside him. “Here for a bit of breakfast before heading to the shop?”
Jeremiah hesitated for half a second before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
Warm air rolled over him, and the rich scent of fresh pastries intensified even further. Billy floated in after him, his attention immediately locking onto the tray in Ulrick’s hands.
“Ah… no, actually.” Jeremiah rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I’ve been kicked out of the shop for the day.” He let out a quiet sigh. “Doctor’s orders.”
Ulrick barked out a hearty laugh as he carried the tray behind the counter.
“So I’ve been told,” he said easily. “If you were hoping for more lessons today, I’m afraid Ms. Woods already beat you to the punch.” He shot Jeremiah a knowing grin. “She made sure I heard all about your little adventure yesterday. Along with your apparent need for rest.”
Jeremiah froze mid-step before releasing a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly.
“Yeah… I probably should’ve expected that,” he admitted, nose wrinkling.
He’d spent enough time bragging about Ulrick’s lessons over text that Sam had apparently decided he’d try to turn his “mandatory rest” into “secret magic training.” Which, in hindsight…
Part of Jeremiah wished he’d thought of that himself.
He shook the thought away and moved farther into the bakery, settling into the same small table he usually occupied whenever he visited.
“No lessons today,” he clarified. “I just… wanted you to take a look at something for me.”
“Oh?” Ulrick carried over a bottle of tea, two cups, a plate stacked with pastries, and a large empty bowl balanced easily under one arm. “Something for me to look at, is it?”
He set everything down before sliding into the seat across from Jeremiah.
“Somehow, I doubt it’s a cookbook.” The big baker grinned. “I might be teaching you magic, lad, but don’t think I’ll give up my brownie recipes as easily.”
Billy twitched the instant the pastries touched the table, the young kraken’s eyes locking onto a large chocolate-covered éclair near the edge of the plate.
His bubble armor collapsed into the empty bowl with a soft wobble as Billy dropped into it, hauled himself over the rim with several determined tentacles, and immediately lunged for the pastry.
Apparently, even Billy’s current melancholy couldn’t compete with the siren song of fresh éclairs.
Jeremiah snorted softly despite himself and reached into his coat.
“No, nothing like that,” Jeremiah said. “Here.”
He pulled out the Seven-Radiance Adarna Feather.
Ulrick froze mid-bite.
The baker’s eyes narrowed slightly as they settled on the feather in Jeremiah’s hand. The humor didn’t fully leave his expression, but it sharpened into something more serious. More focused.
Slowly, he extended one large hand across the table.
“May I?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
Jeremiah nodded and handed it over.
Ulrick turned the feather carefully between his fingers and watched as the colors shifted beneath the warm bakery lights, sliding from crimson to gold to green in soft gradients that never quite settled into one shade for long.
At one point, Jeremiah caught the faintest trace of a grey shimmer across Ulrick’s eyes before it vanished almost immediately.
The baker’s brow furrowed.
“Where did you find something like this, lad?”
Jeremiah leaned back slightly in his chair.
“Well…” He rubbed the side of his neck. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Billy let out a pleased chirrup around a beakful of pastry as Jeremiah began recounting the previous day.
He explained the trip into the Testing Grounds, the work they’d been doing with the Candlewicks, and the slow process of gaining the flock’s trust. Ulrick listened without interrupting, turning the feather idly through his fingers while Jeremiah spoke.
Jeremiah described the fight with the Undergrowth Monitor, bringing the injured Candlewick back to the shop, and setting it up in the atrium beneath Roy’s supervision for the night.
“And that’s where I found it,” Jeremiah finished. “I figured something came through while I was sleeping, but neither Lewis nor Maddie noticed anything.” He leaned forward slightly, biting his thumb in thought. “I should probably get cameras installed, now that I think about it.”
Ulrick nodded once.
“And not knowing where it came from, you’re not sure you can trust it, despite whatever gift Sarah left you insisting it’s safe. Correct?”
Jeremiah nodded. “That about sums it up.”
Ulrick remained quiet for a moment longer, his eyes still resting on the feather as its colors shifted softly between his fingers.
After a long moment, Ulrick sighed and set the feather back on the table.
“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you much beyond the obvious,” he admitted. “It’s absolutely brimming with Fire-aspect mana and Dream energy, both of which I suspect you already knew.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Strange combination, but not unheard of. Especially considering where you installed your fancy birdhouse, if I’m understanding correctly.”
Jeremiah blinked.
“That’s it?” he asked, staring at him. “You really can’t tell me anything more?”
Ulrick threw his head back and laughed.
“Sorry to disappoint, lad.” He leaned forward, resting one broad forearm on the table as he fixed Jeremiah with an amused look. “When you’ve been at this game as long as I have, one thing you learn quickly is this—”
He tapped the feather lightly with a thick finger.
“The world’s far bigger than you can possibly imagine.”
The humor in his expression softened into something quieter.
“Just when you think you’ve seen enough that nothing can surprise you anymore, you’ll turn a corner and find something waiting to smack you in the face for the arrogance.”
His grin returned a heartbeat later. “Frustrating lesson for a new apprentice, but it keeps life interesting.”
Jeremiah frowned, his gaze drifting back to the feather. Colors rippled slowly across its surface beneath the bakery lights, warm and strange in a way he still couldn’t quite place. Yet somehow… familiar.
“Still,” he said after a moment, “there’s really nothing else you can tell me?”
Ulrick went quiet.
He leaned farther back in his chair and folded his arms, his expression turning thoughtful as the warmth of the bakery settled around them. Somewhere in the back, an oven gave a faint metallic pop as it cooled. Beyond the frosted windows, snow drifted lazily through the morning air.
Billy chirped softly around a beakful of éclair filling.
Several long seconds passed before Ulrick finally gave a slow nod and pushed himself to his feet.
“I can’t,” Ulrick said. “But I might be able to introduce you to someone who can.” He picked up the feather carefully and held it out to Jeremiah. “Up for a little trip?”
Jeremiah straightened slightly.
“You do?”
“Maybe.” Ulrick shrugged. “Depends on whether they’re in the mood to talk today. Never really know with that one.”
Something in Jeremiah’s chest loosened almost immediately.
He stood with a quiet breath and took the feather back, slipping it carefully inside his coat.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “At this point, I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
“Good answer.”
As Jeremiah stepped away from the table, Billy wrapped several tentacles around the remains of the éclair and dragged the pastry into his bowl. A moment later, his bubble shimmered back into place around him and lifted smoothly into the air as he floated after them.
At the door, Ulrick paused and glanced back over one broad shoulder.
“Now,” he said, his grin returning, “pay attention to what I do.”
Jeremiah frowned, but remained quiet.
Instead of opening the door, Ulrick raised his hand… and knocked.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The sound rolled through the bakery far louder than it should have. Each rap carried a faint echo, hollow and distant, as if the other side of the door opened into some vast stone hallway rather than Market Street.
What’s more—
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes.
Ulrick’s knuckles never actually touched the wood.
They stopped just shy of the surface every time, barely a breath away, as though he were knocking on the air itself.
Or… maybe
“The mana?” Jeremiah muttered, more to himself than a question.
Ulrick only grinned wider, but neither confirmed nor denied Jeremiah’s words.
Instead, he reached down, wrapped one massive hand around the handle—
—and pulled the door open.
Bright sunlight flooded the bakery.
Jeremiah recoiled instinctively, one arm rising against the sudden glare as warmth poured through the doorway. At the same time, sound crashed into the room — overlapping voices, footsteps against stone, laughter, distant music — all blending together into the unmistakable noise of a crowded street.
For a heartbeat, Jeremiah simply stared.
Because none of it made sense.
The sunlight pouring through the doorway was wrong. Too bright. Too warm. It felt closer to midday in late spring than the cold winter morning waiting outside only seconds earlier.
And beyond the threshold—
Jeremiah’s eyes widened.
Crowds moved through a broad street packed shoulder to shoulder with people. Colorful signs hung overhead between buildings. Strange storefronts lined both sides of the road, some familiar enough to recognize, others unlike anything he had ever seen before. The entire space buzzed with life and motion far beyond the quiet morning traffic of Market Street, visible through the bakery windows only a few feet away.
Jeremiah opened his mouth, but no words came out. Too many questions crashed together in his mind at once for any of them to make it to his tongue.
Behind him, Ulrick laughed softly and stepped through the doorway.
“Well?” the baker asked, moving aside and gesturing him forward. “You coming, lad?”
Jeremiah looked from Ulrick to the doorway again, his mind stumbling over itself trying to make sense of it. After a long second, he swallowed hard and stepped forward cautiously.
Billy darted after him, taking his place near Jeremiah’s shoulder.
The moment Jeremiah crossed the threshold, he stopped dead.
Warm sunlight settled across his skin. The air smelled different here — spices, fresh bread, smoke, perfume, rain-soaked stone, and something stranger beneath it all that he couldn’t name. Voices rolled together from every direction, layered thick enough that he couldn’t immediately separate one conversation from another.
A sharp click of a door closing behind him snapped him out of his daze, and Jeremiah turned.
Ulrick stepped away from the now-shut doorway with an affable grin, brushing his hands together once.
“Welcome, lad,” the baker said.
He spread one broad arm toward the impossible street surrounding them.
“To the Inn Between.”