Sorry for the wait. I'm still a little torn on these last few chapter. I feel like I might be going into TO MUCH detail, especially in the descriptor department. I'm trying to make it so things aren't just 80% dialogue, but that also feels like I might be adding to much bloat to things too. I spent three days trying to trim this and the last two chapters down more, but its hard.
ORZ
What do you think? ♛———♛—————————♛———♛
“Dreameater Mites?” Jeremiah repeated.
Ray nodded, the easy humor fading from his expression. “Nasty little things.”
He raised one finger between them.
At first, Jeremiah almost missed it. A tiny red speck appeared above Ray’s fingertip, no larger than a pinprick, suspended in the air as if caught in a beam of light. Then the speck swelled.
Jeremiah’s eyes widened as it grew from a dot into something the size of a grape, its shape resolving into a small, wriggling mite. Eight thin legs twitched beneath a round, reddish body, and its tiny mouthparts flexed in a way that made the back of Jeremiah’s neck crawl.
Even as he focused on it, a blue window flickered into existence in front of him.
——————✴——————
Dreameater Mite Swarm
Grade: F – 1.2
Mental: (G) 1
Physical: (G) 1
Supernatural: (F) 1
Rarity: Common
Pedigree: ★★
Ecology: Dreameater Mites are tiny Dream-native scavengers that occasionally slip into the physical world through sleeping minds. Most settle in pillows, bedding, nests, burrows, and other sleeping places, where they feed on lingering dream residue left behind by sleepers. In The Dream, they survive by scavenging scraps discarded by larger Dream Beasts and even Nightmares.
Small infestations are usually harmless and often go unnoticed. Large colonies, however, can drain dreams faster than they naturally replenish, leading to poor sleep, irritability, exhaustion, and recurring nightmares. In sufficient numbers, a swarm may become a minor Nightmare in its own right.
Dreameater Mites are attracted to areas rich in Dream-aspected energy and reproduce rapidly when food is abundant. While individually weak and of little intelligence, they can create conditions that attract more dangerous Dream entities.
Warning: Large infestations may create a weak connection to The Dream, increasing the likelihood of Nightmare activity nearby.
——————✴——————
Jeremiah stared at the insect for a long moment, then slowly reached up and tapped it.
His fingertip passed through with a faint ripple.
The mite’s body distorted around his touch like light over disturbed water, spinning once in the air before settling back into place.
Jeremiah pulled his hand back. “A hologram?”
“Close enough,” Ray said.
Jeremiah lowered his hand, studying the thing more carefully. He would’ve liked to say it looked familiar, that some detail in its shape or coloring matched something he’d seen in the Candlewick clearing or the atrium. But the truth was, if the System hadn’t told him what he was looking at, he wasn’t sure he could’ve distinguished it from a normal mite.
A large, ugly mite, maybe, but still just a mite.
Ulrick seemed to share the opinion. The large baker leaned forward, one hand stroking his beard as he peered at the image with open skepticism.
“They don’t look too dangerous,” he said.
Ray laughed. “They’re not.”
He gave the floating mite a light flick with his finger. The image bobbed, legs wriggling wildly.
“Not most of the time, anyway,” Ray continued. “In fact, they’re common enough, all things considered. Most folks will go their whole lives with a few nearby and never notice a thing.”
Jeremiah didn’t find that as comforting as Ray probably intended.
“The problems start,” Ray said, “when they find exactly the right conditions to reproduce uncontrollably.”
He waved his hand, and the enlarged mite came apart like mist, the red shape scattering into faint sparks before fading completely.
“That can happen for a few reasons. An abundant food source. The right environment. Or even a strong connection to the Dream in the area.”
His gaze shifted back to Jeremiah.
“In your case, mate, it’s likely a combination of all three.”
“What do you mean?” Jeremiah asked with a frown.
Ray leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
“These berry bushes you described,” he said, “sound very similar to a plant native to the Dream that I know of. Not identical, maybe, but close enough that I’d be surprised if there weren’t some relation. If seeds somehow found their way into that clearing and took root, their presence would naturally weaken the barrier between the Dream and the waking world.”
Jeremiah’s frown deepened.
Ray continued, “Not enough to cause trouble on their own, most likely. But in large enough numbers, the area might become more permeable. Softer around the edges, if you follow. Enough to be the main food source for a large flock? Almost certainly.”
“Such a large flock, coupled with the stronger connection to the Dream…” Jeremiah mused, slowly nodding as the pieces settled into place.
“Would offer the mites a perfect breeding location,” Ray finished, pointing at him with a pleased grin. “Bingo.”
Jeremiah sighed and sank back into his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Of course it wouldn’t be simple.”
He lowered his hand and looked back at Ray. “What do I do, then? How do I deal with them?”
Ray shrugged. “Honestly? Keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
Jeremiah blinked. “That’s it?”
“For now, yes.” Ray lifted one hand, ticking the points off with his fingers. “From what you told me, you’re already on the right track. Reducing the mites, calming the flock, cleaning the nesting areas, and giving them somewhere safer to go. You’ll never get rid of them fully, but with proper care and management, I think you’ll find the problem sorting itself out pretty soon.”
Jeremiah didn’t look convinced.
“If you want to do more,” Ray added, “wait until the flock has calmed down a bit, then try pulling up some of the bushes. Not all at once, necessarily. But enough to weaken the area’s connection to the Dream. Fewer bushes mean fewer places for mites to cross over and breed.”
Jeremiah nodded slowly, though his mind was already turning.
Ulrick’s expression brightened.
“I wouldn’t mind a few myself,” he said, stroking his beard with sudden interest. “Dream-touched berries sound like they might make a fine tart.”
The baker’s laugh rolled warmly across the table.
Jeremiah looked at him, then at Ray, then down at his mug.
A tart made from strange Dream berries pulled out of a dangerous magical forest should have sounded ridiculous.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t actually a terrible idea.
Still, one worry remained lodged firmly in the back of Jeremiah’s mind.
Jeremiah’s frown deepened.
“Wouldn’t that just bring the mites to us?” he asked.
The question slipped out before he could stop it, but once spoken, it lodged firmly in his mind.
If the berries really could improve mood and mental health the way the System claimed, then they might make a good addition to the shop’s garden. The thought had already started unfolding in the back of his mind, bringing with it half-formed ideas about the Maddock residents, Lewis’s classes, and maybe even some kind of carefully managed habitat near the courtyard he had been playing with.
But none of that mattered if planting the bushes meant inviting a mite infestation into his shop.
Ray waved the concern away almost immediately.
“Nah,” he said. “What you’re seeing there is the result of years of neglect under just the right conditions.” He leaned back in his chair, one hand still resting near the feather. “A few bushes on their own won’t do anything dramatic. Not if you’re paying attention. Keep the area clean, don’t let things run wild, and you’ll be peachy.”
Jeremiah nodded slowly. “I see.”
He did, more or less.
If he understood correctly, berries themselves weren’t the problem. Rather, it was several small things coming together over a long period of time, compounding into bigger issues and creating just the right environment for things to get out of hand.
That made sense.
Unfortunately, it didn’t make the possibilities any less worrying, either.
Maybe he could start with limited plantings. Somewhere monitored. Away from the main garden and the atrium. Roy could probably help watch for early signs of contamination if Jeremiah linked the right area into the shop’s systems. Maybe Verdant, Elliot’s Petalwitch Beetle living in the garden, would know how to cultivate the bushes without letting them spread. At the very least, Jeremiah could give them a weekly coating of Ashen Blessing to deal with any mites that might appear.
“As for this beauty,” Ray continued, pulling Jeremiah back to the table.
He lifted the Seven-Radiance Adarna Feather between two fingers.
“Its origins are likely similar.”
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Ray twirled the feather slowly by the quill, watching the light play across it as if deciding where to begin.
“Tell me,” he said at last, “what do you know of the Phoenix?”
Jeremiah blinked.
That wasn’t the question he’d expected.
He settled back in his chair and thought for a moment, searching through old lessons, half-remembered documentaries, and the general magical-beast trivia he’d absorbed over the years.
“A Phoenix is a rare species of magical bird,” he said after a moment. “A lot of planets have myths and legends about them, though most of those are just stories. What we know from actual observation is still pretty limited, mostly because they’re rare, and because they like to move from world to world.”
His gaze drifted briefly toward Billy as he spoke.
In that respect, phoenixes weren’t all that different from krakens. In fact, many of the stronger magical beasts seemed to possess some way of crossing worlds, planes, or boundaries once they reached a certain level of power, often through means no one fully understood.
It explained why so many isolated cultures carried strangely similar stories. Different planets. Different peoples. Different histories. And yet the same kinds of creatures kept appearing at the edges of their myths.
Ray nodded along as Jeremiah answered, his expression thoughtful.
“A textbook answer,” the innkeeper said. “And not necessarily wrong, either.”
Ray leaned forward slightly, the feather still turning between his fingers.
“But like most textbook answers, it’s missing a few important pieces.” His grin returned. “For instance, did you know the term ‘Phoenix’ doesn’t actually refer to one species of bird?”
He smirked. “Rather, they’re a… category, for lack of a better term.”
Jeremiah’s frown deepened.
“No,” he admitted. “I didn’t.”
Though the moment Ray said it, the idea made a frustrating amount of sense. Dragons weren’t a single species either. Neither were krakens, despite how often people used the word as if it covered one neat category. Hadn’t he only just compared them?
Ray’s grin widened.
“More accurately,” Ray said, lifting the feather slightly, “a ‘Phoenix’ refers to an individual magical bird that has reached the pinnacle of its species’ physical potential.”
Jeremiah sat back a little.
“So…” He glanced at the feather. “Are you saying this is a Phoenix feather?”
Ray shook his head. “Nah, mate. I only brought them up so you’d have some context to work with.”
He raised the feather a little higher, and its shifting colors brightened beneath the warm tavern lights.
“What you have here isn’t a Phoenix feather,” Ray said. “It’s an Adarna.”
Across the table, Ulrick’s brows rose.
“Ahhhh,” the baker said, nodding slowly as understanding settled across his face. “I see now. That makes more sense, then.”
Jeremiah looked between them.
“An Adarna?” he repeated.
The System had called it that, too. Seven-Radiance Adarna Feather. He remembered the words clearly, even though at the time he hadn’t known what they meant. Even now, he wasn’t sure he fully understood.
And yet something about the word still scratched at the back of his mind. Familiar, but not in any way he could place.
Ray nodded.
“Adarna are similar to Phoenixes,” he said. “But where a Phoenix represents an individual that has reached the pinnacle of its physical potential, an Adarna has reached the pinnacle of its mental potential.”
Jeremiah raised a brow. “So it’s a… smart bird?”
Ray threw his head back and laughed.
“More than smart, mate,” he said, grinning as he lowered his mug. “An Adarna is the sort of being even archmages go looking for when they need to learn something new.”
Ray leaned back in his chair and gestured with the feather between his fingers.
“There are old stories claiming an Adarna’s wisdom surpasses even that of dragons,” he said, “and their feathers are powerful magical catalysts, unlike almost anything else you’ll find.”
Jeremiah raised a brow. Even on Nexus, the number of beings who could claim the title of archmage could be counted on one hand.
That wasn’t the sort of comparison people made lightly.
Even Ulrick leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard as he studied the feather with renewed appreciation.
Ray held it a little higher. “The one this came from is still fairly young, by the standards used to measure such things. But make no mistake, mate. This is a treasure.”
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. “But is it safe?”
Ray paused, raised a brow, then nodded once.
“As safe as a powerful magical catalyst can be.”
Jeremiah gave him a flat look.
The innkeeper chuckled and raised his free hand. “I know, I know. Not the most reassuring answer. But you have to understand, when we’re talking about beings on that level, a feather isn’t just a bit of shed plumage. Each one carries a significant amount of invested power. Meaning. Intent.”
He tapped a finger against his chin, his gaze drifting back to the feather.
“Given the fact that your store isn’t currently a smoking crater, we can safely rule out it having fallen during some sort of fight. And with the circumstances involved…” Ray’s eyes flicked back to Jeremiah. “I’d wager the Adarna is connected to the flock you’re helping. Possibly even its matron.”
Jeremiah’s grip tightened slightly around his mug.
“My point is, it’s more than likely this was left intentionally,” Ray said. “A gift, or perhaps a repayment, for what you’ve been doing for her flock.”
For a moment, Jeremiah said nothing.
The idea should have been comforting. Maybe it was, in some distant way. But there was something deeply unsettling about realizing a creature that powerful had entered his shop, left a feather beneath the birdhouse, and vanished without anyone noticing.
Ray’s grin returned, playful almost.
“Now, don’t give me that look, lad. Not many people can brag that they’ve earned the favor of an Adarna,” he said. “Well done, mate.”
He offered the feather back across the table.
Jeremiah accepted it with both hands, careful despite himself. The feather was warm against his palm, not hot, but carrying the faint, steady heat of morning sunlight filtering through his shop window. Its colors moved slowly as he turned it, alive in a way that made it difficult to look away for long.
Ulrick’s large hand settled on Jeremiah’s shoulder and gave it a firm, approving pat.
“As for what can be done with it,” Ray continued, leaning back in his chair, “any number of things, really. It’s absolutely packed with Fire and Dream aspects, which is a rare combination. Very useful in several advanced disciplines.”
Jeremiah looked up from the feather.
Ray noticed the question before he could ask it and waved one hand.
“Personally, though? I’d recommend keeping it as it is for now.”
Jeremiah’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
Ray chuckled softly. “If I’m right, and this feather came from the flock’s matron, then its value isn’t only in what it can be made into.” He gestured toward the feather. “Its presence alone might offer legitimacy. Comfort. A sign that the flock’s protector has acknowledged the place you’ve built for them.”
His tone softened. “And by extension, you.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“It won’t earn you their trust overnight, but it’s a good starting point.”
“I see…” Jeremiah said.
For a while, no one spoke.
The tavern carried on around them. Glasses clinked behind the bar. Someone laughed near the hearth. Hector shifted by the door with a heavy sigh. Jeremiah barely noticed any of it.
His attention remained on the feather in his hands and the pieces of the day arranging themselves in his mind. The mites. The berries. The flock. The feather. He had expected to come here and learn a little about his mysterious visitor. Instead, once more, he felt the weight of responsibility settle across his shoulders.
It wasn’t a terrible weight. Heavy, yes, but not crushing. Given time, he knew he’d learn how to carry it.
Still, part of him struggled with what he was supposed to do with that kind of trust.
Sarah and the System. David and Billy. And now this Adarna and her flock.
Who was he, that so many kept asking so much of him?
He took a deep breath, trying to center himself, even as Billy sent a small pulse of comfort through their bond.
After a while, Ray clapped once, drawing his attention back to the table.
“Well now,” he said, easy cheer returning to his voice. “As fun as this has been, lads, I have an inn to run. Was there anything else I could do for you?”
Jeremiah glanced toward Ulrick.
The baker met his look, then gave the slightest shrug.
Jeremiah shook his head and turned back to Ray. “No. That’s everything, I think.”
Ray nodded. “Glad I could help, then. Feel free to stick around as long as you’d like.”
He pushed his chair back and stood.
Then he paused.
“Ah! Before I forget.” Ray snapped his fingers and looked toward Ulrick. “That thing you requested last time is in the back.”
Ulrick’s entire face lit up.
“Really?” he asked, already half-rising from his chair. “So soon?”
Ray nodded toward the back of the tavern. “Same room as last time.”
Ulrick let out a hearty laugh and clapped Jeremiah on the shoulder hard enough to rock him slightly in his seat.
“Stay here a moment, lad. I’ll be right back, and then we can head home.”
Before Jeremiah could answer, the baker turned and crossed the tavern in long, eager strides, heading for a door near the back.
Jeremiah watched him go.
The door closed behind Ulrick with a quiet click.
A sinking feeling gathered in the pit of Jeremiah’s stomach.
Slowly, he turned back toward the table, and that sinking feeling turned to ice.
Ray stood beside the table, watching him, his easy grin gone.
So were the lazy amusement and careless charm he’d worn since the moment they met. What remained was still calm, but colder. Sharper. The look of a man measuring something dangerous and deciding how much of a threat it might become.
Jeremiah’s fingers tightened around the feather.
“Well,” Ray said, his voice flat, “now that we have a few minutes to ourselves, Mr. Bridge…”
Ray leaned forward, one hand braced against the table, pinning Jeremiah in place with those bright, almost glowing green eyes.
“I’ll not beat around the bush.” His gaze sharpened. “Would you kindly explain where you obtained your Shard?”