Woops! Thought I posted this already.
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Jeremiah stared at the System message until it faded from sight.
Across the room, Hector gave one solemn bark, then turned as if the matter had been settled. The old wolfhound padded back to his cushion by the door, circled once, and lowered himself with a heavy sigh. His head settled on his paws, but his eyes remained fixed on Jeremiah.
Jeremiah stared back, his mind offering several possible responses.
At last, he managed the only one that felt honest.
“…What?”
Ray threw his head back and laughed.
The sound rolled through the tavern, loud enough to draw a glance from one nearby patron before they returned to their drink.
“I can honestly say,” Ray said, wiping at one eye, “that’s the mildest reaction I’ve seen yet.”
Jeremiah slowly turned back to him and frowned.
Ray only grinned wider. “What? Didn’t I tell you no one knows the rhyme or reason behind who Shards choose?”
Jeremiah met the grin with a flat look.
“So who are you, then?” he asked.
The question came out sharper than he intended, but at this point, Jeremiah was beyond caring. A low pressure throbbed at the back of his skull, and if Billy had been awake, he was sure the young kraken would be fussing over him by now.
Ray leaned back in his chair and folded both hands behind his head. “Me? I’m just the innkeeper.”
Jeremiah’s expression didn’t change.
Ray rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine, mate. Look, I’m sorry. Truly.”
Some of the humor faded from his face.
“Try to see it from my side,” Ray said. “The Inn Between isn’t a normal place. Never has been. The people who find their way here aren’t always dangerous, but they’re rarely ordinary.”
He rested one arm on the table, his gaze drifting briefly toward the surrounding room.
“Those who know about the Shards, and know this place was once a major gathering point for the Hunters, usually fall into one of two groups.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Hunters themselves… or people with a reason to hate them.”
Jeremiah’s grip tightened around the Twin Boundaries pen, though he didn’t raise it again.
If Ray noticed, he didn’t react.
“So when a stranger walks in with Ulrick, claims to be Sarah Bridge’s brother, and carries a Shard of his own…” Ray exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. I had my guard up.”
Jeremiah frowned despite himself.
That didn’t make what Ray had done acceptable. Not even close. But he could at least understand where the man was coming from, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
For a moment, the table fell quiet. Somewhere behind them, a glass clinked against wood. Beside the door, Hector’s tail gave one slow thump.
Then the corner of Ray’s mouth twitched.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “it didn’t help that you’re not exactly how she described you, either.”
Jeremiah blinked.
“Sarah talked about me?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Ray’s smirk softened. “Constantly. She was proud of you, you know.” He tilted his head. “Worried, too. Mostly that you were too… passive.”
Heat crept up Jeremiah’s neck.
He looked down at the table, his jaw tightening.
Ray lifted a hand quickly. “I don’t think she meant it badly. Just—”
“No,” Jeremiah said quietly.
Ray stopped.
Jeremiah stared at the table, at his own hand curled around the pen.
“No… she was right. I’ve spent most of my life just… going with the flow. Letting other people decide things for me. Teachers. Schools. Sarah. The city. Even after Sarah died, I left everything to her lawyers.”
He shook his head.
“Maybe… maybe if I’d stepped up sooner, if I’d paid closer attention, taken a more active role…” His voice roughened. “Maybe they wouldn’t have been able to do what they did. Wouldn’t have been able to take so much.”
His brow furrowed, and his mouth pressed into a thin line as those last words were pushed through gritted teeth.
Ray’s expression lost the last trace of its smirk.
Even after the System arrived, those first weeks had felt as if Jeremiah were being dragged along for the ride. By Mero. By the System. And whatever tangled mess Sarah had left behind. Even the tournament had been Mani’s dream more than his. Jeremiah had supported it, hosted it, protected it when everything went wrong, but it hadn’t truly been his.
Jeremiah drew a slow breath and forced his hand to loosen.
The flock had been different.
Helping them had been his choice. His plan. His risk. He’d acted because he believed it was right.
It was the first thing in a long time that felt like he’d taken hold of the reins himself, instead of waiting for someone to hand them to him.
“How much does Ulrick know about your Shard?”
Ray’s voice cut clean through Jeremiah’s thoughts.
Jeremiah looked up.
Ray wasn’t watching him anymore. His gaze had shifted toward the door at the back of the tavern, the one Ulrick had vanished through.
Jeremiah followed his gaze, then frowned. “I’m… not sure.”
Ray turned back to him.
“My guide was the one who talked to him,” Jeremiah said, choosing the words carefully. “I don’t know how much he explained. I’m not even sure Ulrick knew about any of this before that.”
Ray studied him for a moment.
“Guide?” he asked.
Jeremiah said nothing.
After a second, Ray shook his head. “Never mind. Not my business.”
He leaned back again, steepling his fingers.
“I think I understand why Ulrick brought you here. It’s not as if I’m the only person he could’ve called on for a favor like what you needed.”
Ray’s mouth curved faintly.
“Hell, I’m probably not even the closest.”
Jeremiah frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I mean, Ulrick likely suspected we needed to have this little chat.”
Ray tapped one finger against the table. “Maybe not the details, but Ulrick’s a smart man. I’m sure he’s seen enough to put some of the pieces together.”
He nodded, more to himself than to Jeremiah.
“Sarah had been considering him for membership in the Hunters before…” he paused. “Before the incident.”
Jeremiah stilled
“Wait,” he said. “Are you saying Ulrick’s a Shard User too?”
Ray stared at him for a second, then laughed.
“Maker, no. You of all people should know better than that.”
He thumbed toward his own chest. “The Hunters weren’t only Shard Users. Me, for example.”
He paused, as if waiting for some reaction, but Jeremiah only stared blankly at him.
Ray sighed and let the joke die. “Ulrick’s a powerful mage in his own right. More than that, he’s a skilled master of Threshold, and that kind of talent is priceless in Hunter work.”
His gaze drifted briefly around the tavern.
“Near the end, the Hunters had more support staff than active field members. If it weren’t for that hot mess after Sarah—”
Ray flinched, then sat straighter in his chair.
His eyes flicked across the tavern, and for the first time since Jeremiah had met him, Ray looked genuinely nervous. His gaze cut toward the ceiling, then the bar, then the far corners of the room with the sudden wariness of someone who no longer trusted the shadows.
Jeremiah tilted his head and lifted a brow.
He’d seen what Ray could do. Or at least some small fraction of it.
What could make a man like that nervous?
Almost… afraid?
Jeremiah’s frown deepened.
Then he froze.
His eyes widened for half a heartbeat before narrowing on Ray.
Something cold twisted in his gut.
Ray’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair, as if he’d just caught himself saying something he shouldn’t have.
Jeremiah’s grip tightened around the Twin Boundaries pen.
“Do… you know something about—” Jeremiah began.
The door at the back of the tavern flew open before he could finish.
Ulrick strode through with a grin stretched wide across his face, both arms wrapped around a glass jar so large even he had to carry it carefully. Inside was something pitch-black and thick, a glossy substance that barely shifted with each step and clung to the sides of the jar like tar.
Jeremiah stared at the ominous-looking jar, his mouth parting as the question died in his throat.
Ulrick crossed the room in several long strides and set the jar on the table, and the wood groaned beneath its weight.
Jeremiah furrowed his brow and focused on the jar.
A System window appeared.
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Mourning Queen’s Royal Jelly
Rank: D
Quality: Luxury
Keywords: Natural Treasure, Spiritual Soothing, Death-aspected, Preserved Essence
Description: A thick, pitch-black natural treasure resembling dark honey or softened tar. Despite its ominous appearance, this royal jelly carries an unusually clean spiritual presence that draws out incorporeal impurities and prevents them from festering.
Highly prized in funerary rites, spirit-tending, and advanced calming medicines, Mourning Queen’s Royal Jelly is most commonly used to soothe restless dead, stabilize lingering spirits, and ease spiritual agitation without forcibly suppressing the subject’s will. When properly prepared, even a small amount can quiet violent resonance, reduce grief-induced spiritual distortion, and help weakened souls remain coherent.
Among the living, it is sometimes used in rare tonics for shock, trauma, and severe magical overstimulation, though improper dosage may cause emotional numbness, dreamless sleep, or temporary detachment from bodily sensation.
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Jeremiah’s eyes widened.
D-rank.
It wasn’t as high-quality as the Adarna feather, but that hardly mattered. This black goop was only the second D-rank item he’d ever seen, and Ulrick had just hauled it out of a back room as if he’d gone to fetch a sack of flour.
To say Jeremiah was surprised felt inadequate.
Ulrick, meanwhile, looked delighted.
The big man reached over and slapped Ray hard enough on the back to rock the innkeeper forward in his chair.
“I can’t believe you really did it, you crazy bastard!”
Ray matched Ulrick’s grin without missing a beat. “Took a bit more work than I expected, but I told you I could get it.”
Ulrick nodded firmly. “Never doubted you.”
Ray chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Sure you didn’t.”
For a moment, the tension at the table nearly vanished beneath the weight of their shared excitement.
Then Ulrick’s grin faltered as his gaze traced from Ray to Jeremiah, then back again. The big man’s expression shifted, bright joy dimming into concern as he noticed the silence sitting between them.
“What’s wrong, lads?” he asked. “Something happen while I was gone?”
Ray had the decency to look away first. He scratched at his cheek, his grin thinning into something awkward.
“That’s my fault, mate,” Ray said. “Nothing to worry too much about. Just asked some things about Sarah and stepped on some toes, I’m afraid.”
“Ahhh.” Ulrick’s expression settled into something solemn. “I see.”
Jeremiah kept his eyes on Ray, staring at the man in silence for a moment longer. Part of him wanted to push. To drag the unfinished question back into the open and force Ray to answer it, Ulrick or no Ulrick.
But something stopped him.
Something in the back of his mind. Something in Ray’s eyes before Ulrick had returned.
Jeremiah let out a slow breath and sank back into his chair.
“I’m fine,” he said.
His voice came out flatter than he intended.
“Like Ray said. Nothing to worry about.”
Ulrick studied him for another heartbeat, clearly unconvinced.
Jeremiah didn’t look away.
At last, Ulrick gave a small nod and turned back to Ray.
“Well then,” the baker said, laying one hand on the jar, “now that we’ve both got what we came for, I think it’s about time we got out of your hair.”
Ray stood at once. His gaze flicked toward Jeremiah for half a second before sliding away again.
“No problem at all, mate,” he said, perhaps a touch too quickly. “I’ve got a tavern to run, so I won’t keep you.”
He turned his attention fully to Ulrick and offered a wide grin.
“Always good seeing you.”
Ulrick clasped his hand, returning the grin as the two men shook.
Jeremiah watched Ray from his chair, eyes narrowed.
He broke the stare only when Ulrick turned toward him.
“Ready to go, lad?”
He nodded and stood. “Sure.”
Ulrick returned the nod, then laid one broad hand atop the jar.
It vanished, and Jeremiah flinched.
He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Spatial storage was rare, expensive, and heavily restricted in some parts of the city, but the more he learned about Ulrick, the more the giant baker proved to be far from ordinary.
Still, one question pushed immediately through the surprise.
If he’d had spatial storage all along, why carry the jar out by hand?
Jeremiah looked from Ulrick to Ray with a frown, but the thought came and went unanswered.
Ulrick started toward the door.
Jeremiah pushed the question aside and crossed toward the corner where Billy’s bubble armor drifted lazily near the wall. The young kraken still slept inside, tentacles curled close around himself. Faint dreams brushed against their bond, soft and content, all multicolored shrimp and warm water.
Jeremiah gathered him close to his chest and followed after Ulrick.
Behind them, Ray lifted a hand in farewell.
“Thanks for the business,” he called. “Come again soon!”
As they neared the door, Hector rose from his cushion with slow dignity. The old wolfhound stretched once, then gave a deep, friendly woof.
Jeremiah slowed.
Hector stood beside the entrance, black coat drinking in the tavern’s warm light, solemn eyes fixed on him.
Jeremiah hesitated.
Then, before he could think better of it, he focused on Hector and gave the System a silent command.
A new window appeared.
——————❇——————
Hector von Doomslayer — [First Hound of the Spellwright]
Grade: ???
Rarity: Unique
Description: For some, magic is the pursuit of knowledge. For others, power.
For one lonely boy, it meant never having to say goodbye.
System Message: “It’s rude to peek without asking, young man.” — Hector.
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Jeremiah’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened around a silent question.
Before he could reread the screen, however, it closed of its own accord a heartbeat later.
The pair passed through the tavern doorway.
Everything vanished.