World Seedling {Book One}

As they walked toward the entrance of the shop, the sliding door opened with a soft hiss, and a sudden blast of icy wind hit Nova, making her shiver at the unexpected drop in temperature. She paused, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling the chill seep through her clothes.

“I thought you said your world didn’t have magic,” she remarked, her breath forming a small cloud in the cold air. “Where is this freezing wind magic coming from?”

Noah chuckled, watching her reaction with amusement. “As far as I know, it doesn’t have magic. Why do you ask?”

Nova's eyes narrowed with suspicion. She glanced around the shop’s entrance, her gaze sweeping over the walls, searching for any telltale signs of enchantment—runes, inscriptions, or even a hidden wand tucked away in the corners. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if ready to cast a detection spell. “Then how do you explain this cold wind? It feels like ice magic,” she muttered, leaning closer to study the space above the door, her brows furrowing with concentration.

Noah followed her line of sight and grinned. “Oh, that’s just the air conditioning,” he replied, pointing to a white, square box mounted high on the ceiling. The machine emitted a low hum, and tiny vents released a steady stream of cool air into the room.

“Air conditioning?” she repeated, tilting her head curiously. Her eyes widened as she examined the strange device more closely, noting its metallic surface and the faint, whirring noise it made. “Is that some kind of enchanted relic? It must be powered by elemental ice magic to create this effect.”

Noah couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Not quite. It’s just a machine—a bit of technology that cools the air,” he explained. “No magic involved, just some electrical power and a few moving parts.”

Nova continued to eye the device with skepticism, still half-convinced it might be magical. “So, it’s like a mechanical wind spirit… trapped in a box?” she mused aloud, trying to piece together the concept.

Noah chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not exactly. It’s a way of making places comfortable when it’s too hot outside. Just a bit of clever engineering—no spirits required.”

Nova nodded slowly, though she still seemed uncertain. “Your world… it’s strange,” she admitted, almost begrudgingly. “No magic, yet you’ve found ways to mimic it. It’s… fascinating, in its own way.”

Noah smiled. “Stick around, and you’ll see just how fascinating a world without magic can be.”

Nova blinked, staring up at the box with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “A machine that controls the temperature… without any spells? Your world really is full of surprises.” Her gaze flicked back to the “air conditioning” unit, her skepticism clear in the way her eyes narrowed. She continued to scan the ceiling, her fingers twitching slightly as if itching to cast a detection spell. Half-expecting to uncover some hidden glyph or magical device, she frowned in concentration, reaching out with her senses. But there was nothing—no arcane hum, no trace of enchantment, just a steady, mechanical whirring.

“I still don’t understand,” she muttered, more to herself than to Noah. “In my world, controlling the elements requires years of study, immense power, and careful manipulation of magical forces. And here, you’ve just… placed it on the ceiling?” Her voice trailed off, filled with equal parts confusion and begrudging admiration.

Noah laughed softly, his amusement evident in his tone. “It’s just technology, Nova. We don’t have magic, so we’ve figured out other ways to make life comfortable.” He gestured for her to follow him further into the shop. The space opened up before them, aisles stretching into the distance, shelves stacked high with goods in every conceivable shape and color.

Nova’s eyes widened at the sheer variety of items on display—brightly colored boxes and bottles, bags filled with substances she couldn’t name, all adorned with strange symbols and words. She picked up a small bottle with a vibrant, eye-catching label that depicted a lemon with a gleaming smile. “Potion of Lemon Freshness?” she read slowly, her brow furrowing as she tried to decipher its meaning. “Is this some kind of healing brew?” she asked, turning it over in her hands as if expecting it to reveal its secrets.

Noah bit his lip, trying to suppress a grin. “That’s dish soap. It’s for cleaning plates, not drinking.”

Nova’s cheeks flushed a faint pink as she realized her mistake. “Ah… I see.” She quickly set the bottle back on the shelf, as if worried it might explode or release some unexpected spell. Her fingers brushed against other objects as she moved down the aisle, her curiosity overriding her caution. She picked up a packet filled with bright blue granules, examining it closely. “What about this? It looks like crushed gemstones,” she said, turning the packet in the light.

Noah chuckled. “That’s laundry detergent. It helps clean clothes.”

Nova blinked again, then laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Your world is filled with so many strange things,” she mused, setting the packet down. “No magic, yet everything feels… enchanted, in a different way. I’m beginning to see how you’ve managed to make do without spells.”

She continued down the aisle, running her fingers over the packaging of various products, marveling at the colors, the textures, the sheer inventiveness of it all. “It’s almost like… you’ve found ways to weave your own kind of magic through ingenuity and tools,” she remarked, glancing over her shoulder at Noah. "It’s… charming, in its own way."

Noah’s smile softened. “I guess you could say that. We’ve had to get creative.” He paused, watching as Nova’s expression shifted from confusion to fascination. “And there’s plenty more to show you.”

As they approached a row of glass doors, Noah reached out and pulled one open, releasing a cold gust of air that seemed almost alive with a sharp, icy presence. Nova instinctively jumped back, her hand darting to the small knife at her belt, eyes wide and alert, half-expecting some creature or spirit to emerge from within. Instead, she found herself staring at rows upon rows of chilled drinks, each bottle and can neatly arranged, glistening with condensation under the harsh fluorescent light that buzzed softly overhead.

Nova's gaze remained cautious, her eyes narrowing slightly. Slowly, she moved closer, her movements deliberate and measured. She placed a tentative hand against the cool glass, feeling the chill seep into her fingers. “How did you know it would open like that?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine mystification. The glass seemed so ordinary, yet it held back the cold with such precision—was it some form of invisible barrier magic?

Noah chuckled, clearly amused by her wariness. “This one doesn’t open on its own,” he explained patiently. “You just use the handle.” He pointed to the simple metal grip on the door. “No magic—just a little force.”

Nova studied the handle with a focused intensity, her brows furrowing in deep thought. It looked so mundane, just a piece of metal affixed to the glass, but she could feel the mechanics behind it, something more complex than a mere latch. “So… it relies on the strength of the one who opens it? A test of might?” she ventured, her mind searching for a familiar frame of reference.

Noah grinned, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Not quite, but sure, you could think of it like that.”

Intrigued, Nova shifted her gaze to another nearby door with a similar handle. She reached out cautiously, fingers wrapping around the cold metal. She could feel its weight, its solidity, and a hint of resistance. With a determined expression, she took a breath and gave a firm tug. The door swung open with a soft hiss, releasing another blast of cold air that washed over her face, causing her hair to flutter. She gasped slightly, the sensation startling but not unpleasant. As the cool mist dissipated, her face lit up with excitement and a sense of accomplishment. “I did it!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. “No magic, just… a handle.”

Noah laughed warmly, nodding approvingly. “See? Not so different from your world after all. Sometimes, it just takes a little curiosity to figure things out.”

Nova glanced back at the open door, still marveling at how such a simple mechanism could hold such power. “It’s fascinating,” she murmured, almost to herself. “In my world, doors are often sealed with spells or charms. Here, it’s all… mechanisms and ingenuity.” She touched the glass again, almost reverently. “Your people must have a different kind of wisdom… one that shapes the world without bending it to their will.”

Noah smiled softly, watching her as she continued to explore. “We make do with what we have,” he said. “And we’ve learned to find magic in the ordinary things.”

Nova beamed, her eyes reflecting the soft lights of the store. “Your world is full of small wonders, Noah. I think I’m beginning to like it here.”

Noah nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her react to the ordinary marvels of his world. “I guess, to someone from your world, it might feel that way. But here, it’s just part of everyday life.”

As they continued walking, a small electronic beep interrupted their conversation, coming from an overhead speaker. A cheery voice announced, “Attention shoppers: All frozen foods are on sale in aisle five!” The announcement echoed through the store with a clear, friendly tone.

Nova stopped abruptly, her gaze darting around as if searching for the source of the voice. Her heart raced, and she instinctively gripped Noah’s arm, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. “A talking spirit?” she whispered urgently, her voice barely above a breath. “Is it friendly?”

Noah couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. “No, no, it’s just a recording. Like… a message that’s been stored and played back for everyone to hear.”

Nova’s tense posture relaxed a bit, though her eyes still carried a hint of bewilderment. She looked around, trying to reconcile this new information with her experiences. “Your world is so strange… so full of mysteries. And yet, I find myself wanting to learn more.”

Noah smiled, enjoying the genuine curiosity in her voice. “Stick with me, and you’ll see just how fascinating a world without magic can be.”

They moved toward an open space in the store, revealing an area filled with waist-high shelves. The shelves were lined with a delightful assortment of baked goods, each one more intriguing than the last. The air was thick with the comforting aroma of fresh bread and pastries. Nova’s gaze swept over the display, her eyes widening with fascination.

She marveled at the variety of muffins that seemed to come in every conceivable shape and size. Some were topped with colorful sprinkles, while others were studded with chunks of fruit or nuts. There were muffins with golden, crumbly tops, and those with rich, chocolatey centers peeking out through glossy, sugar-coated exteriors. The assortment seemed endless, each muffin unique and tempting in its own way.

Nova’s eyes lingered on a display of pastries arranged in neat rows. There were fluffy croissants with their delicate layers, filled with sweet or savory fillings, and Danish pastries with swirls of rich, buttery dough and vibrant fruit glazes. The array of éclairs and tarts, each one meticulously crafted and artistically presented, made her feel as if she were in a dream.

Noah picked up a small box of pastries and handed it to Nova. “Why don’t we try some of these? I think you’ll find them just as delightful as the rest of our little discoveries.”

Nova’s face lit up with excitement as she accepted the box. “Thank you, Noah. I’m eager to taste these… new wonders.” She glanced around the shop, her earlier unease replaced by a sense of eager anticipation. “This place is truly a treasure trove of delights.”

As they headed toward the checkout, Nova couldn’t help but marvel at the little things around her, each one a small wonder in its own right. It was a world so different from her own, yet full of its own kind of magic.

Some muffins were crowned with a crumbly golden topping, each sprinkled generously with what looked like crushed nuts and crystals of sugar that sparkled under the store lights. The nuts added a rustic texture, while the sugar glistened like tiny diamonds. Others were a deep, rich brown, almost chocolate-like, with chunks of dark, glossy pieces that oozed enticingly from their centers. Their aroma was a blend of bittersweet chocolate and freshly baked dough, making them irresistible. A few muffins had a delicate swirl of white icing on top, which gave off a sweet, sugary scent that mingled with the rich smell of baked goods.

Nova’s eyes widened as she spotted another batch of muffins. Their tops were studded with juicy, bright red berries that glistened like tiny rubies, creating a vibrant contrast against the soft, golden muffin base. Nearby, she saw a group of muffins with a pale yellow color, their surfaces dotted with small seeds. A subtle hint of citrus wafted through the air, adding a refreshing note to the otherwise warm, inviting scent of the bakery. There were even muffins with a thick layer of frosting, topped with colorful sprinkles and candied fruits. They looked almost too pretty to eat, each one a miniature work of art with its vibrant colors and playful decorations.

One muffin in particular caught her eye—it was a curious combination, with chunks of what looked like apple pieces embedded in its tender crumb and a sticky glaze drizzled over its domed top, giving it a glossy, caramelized finish. Another muffin had a more unusual look, with a swirl of dark purple batter running through it, as if someone had painted it with a berry brushstroke, creating a striking visual effect.

“What are these things here?” she asked, her curiosity piqued by the array of flavors and colors.

“Oh, those are muffins,” Noah replied with a smile, grabbing a loaf of bread from a nearby shelf. “They come in all sorts of flavors—blueberry, chocolate chip, orange and poppy seed, and more.”

As they continued down the aisle, Nova’s attention was drawn to another section filled with a mouthwatering array of pastries. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the variety. There were delicate croissants with their buttery, flaky layers curling into golden crescents, each one dusted lightly with powdered sugar that fell like snowflakes. Beside them were danishes, their centers filled with vibrant fruits—glossy cherries, sweet apricots, and deep purple blueberries—nestled in a swirl of cream cheese that added a tangy richness.

Further along, she spotted an assortment of pastries that seemed to shimmer in the light, their glazes catching every flicker from the store's overhead lights. Some were twisted and coated in a thin layer of crystalline sugar, creating a delicate crunch with each bite, while others were spiraled, with cinnamon and brown sugar visibly swirled through their dough, filling the air with a warm, inviting aroma. One pastry, shaped like a small boat, cradled a dollop of rich, dark chocolate, its smooth surface reflecting the light. Another was filled with a pale, golden custard that oozed slightly at the edges, its sweet aroma promising a melt-in-your-mouth experience.

Noah noticed her fascination and grinned. “Would you like to try some of those too?”

Nova nodded eagerly, her earlier skepticism replaced with a childlike curiosity. “Yes, please! I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Noah grabbed a few different pastries—a buttery croissant, a colorful fruit danish, and a generously frosted cinnamon roll—and added them to their basket. After making their way to the checkout, he paid for the items, and they stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun, which bathed the street in a warm, golden glow.

Nova’s eyes widened as Noah handed her the bag. She eagerly pulled out the croissant first, marveling at its delicate layers. Each flaky, golden-brown layer seemed to peel away effortlessly as she took a bite. “So light…” she murmured, her eyes closing as the buttery flavor melted in her mouth. Her expression shifted from curiosity to pure delight. “This is… incredible! So simple, yet so complex.”

Next, she reached for the fruit danish, its surface glistening under the sunlight. As she took a bite, the tartness of the cherry mingled beautifully with the sweet, creamy filling. “It’s like a dance of flavors,” she said with a bright smile. “Your world’s food is truly enchanting.”

Noah laughed, enjoying her enthusiastic response. “I’m glad you like it. I figured you might enjoy trying a few different things.”

Nova moved on to the cinnamon roll, its surface coated with a thick, sticky glaze. She pulled apart a piece of the soft, spiraled dough, and the rich aroma of cinnamon and sugar filled the air. She closed her eyes and savored the warmth and sweetness. “I can’t believe all of this is made without any magic,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s… comforting, in a way. Like a spell for happiness.”

Noah smiled, appreciating her perspective. “Sometimes, the best kind of magic is just a good pastry and a moment to enjoy it.”

Nova nodded, still marveling at the simple wonders of his world. “I think I’m starting to see what you mean.”

They found a nearby bench and sat down, sharing the rest of the pastries while people passed by. The world around them seemed a little less strange as they found common ground in something as simple as a shared meal. The laughter and chatter of the crowd blended with the warm sun, creating a moment of tranquility and connection.

Noah’s phone beeped, drawing him out of their conversation. He sighed as he glanced at the screen, his expression turning serious.

“What’s wrong?” Nova asked, noticing his sudden change in demeanor.

“I need to stop by somewhere,” he replied, his eyes shifting across the street. “You can come with me if you want or wait here.”

Across the road, Nova’s eyes were drawn to a park-like area, though its wooden fence was in a state of severe disrepair. The once vibrant paint had long since faded to a dull gray, and the slats of the fence were cracked and splintered. Part of a broken sign, barely legible, read “Ceme-,” hinting at something more.

Curiosity piqued, Nova followed Noah as he entered the area. The scene before her was almost haunting. Tall, wild grass surged up in thick clumps, so overgrown that it obscured her view of what lay beyond. The stone path winding through the greenery was cracked and uneven, its surface rough and pitted from years of neglect. Here and there, weeds had pushed through the gaps, adding to the path's disrepair.

To their right, a wall stood damaged and derelict. Its surface was streaked with grime, and the faded metal letters that once adorned it were now barely discernible. The wall was pitted and discolored, the metal having lost its sheen and now almost blending into the surroundings.

As they ventured further, the path led them to an area where tall, pale stones lay scattered and crumbling onto the ground. Some stones were toppled, revealing jagged edges that jutted out of the earth like broken teeth. The atmosphere was heavy with a sense of abandonment.

“What is this place?” Nova asked quietly, her voice carrying an undertone of unease.

Noah remained silent for a moment, his expression somber. He continued walking, turning left and making his way along the winding path. After a few more minutes, he stopped at a small, well-maintained grave. The contrast was stark. The grass around the grave was neatly trimmed, and the headstone appeared newer and well-cared-for compared to the others.

Nova approached and saw a modest headstone that read:

“Here lies Samuel Stirling, Beloved father, husband.”

‘Date of Birth: June 7, 1978’ ‘Date of Death: October 14, 2002’

The headstone was accompanied by a glass pot that held only a few withered flowers, their colors faded and petals curling. Nova felt a pang of sadness as she realized this was a graveyard. The surrounding graves, partially obscured by the overgrown grass and weeds, bore names that had faded with time.

Her heart swelled with a mix of anger and sorrow. How could such a sacred place be left to languish in neglect?

She looked back at Noah, who was gently placing a fresh bouquet of yellow and purple flowers by the grave. Beside them, he left a glass bottle, its contents barely visible through the slight opening. “Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he fought to hold back his tears. The soft sound of his sobs was heart-wrenching, and Nova's heart ached in empathy.

Sensing the emptiness around them and feeling the weight of the moment, Nova closed her eyes and let her mana flow outward. Her determination solidified, she gathered her energy and cast a wind spell. A gust of magical wind swept through the graveyard, slicing through the overgrown grass with precise accuracy. The tall blades fell away rapidly, revealing more graves and forgotten names hidden beneath.

In a matter of minutes, the once-cluttered graveyard was transformed. The grass lay in neat piles, and Nova used the same spell to direct the clippings to a nearby rotting shed. The shed’s wood was weathered and covered in a thick layer of dust, its door hanging askew on its hinges. The graveyard now looked significantly more cared for, its overgrown and neglected appearance replaced by a sense of respect and order.

As Nova finished her task, she whispered softly, “To those who have been forgotten, know you never will be again.”

Turning back to Noah, she saw him standing with red-rimmed eyes, wiping away his tears. He looked at her with a mix of gratitude and surprise.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And… I’m sorry you had to see this."

Nova shook her head, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “No need to apologize. I’m glad I could help.”

Noah took a deep breath, his gaze lingering on the freshly cleared area. The once-overgrown graveyard now stood in quiet dignity, the forgotten resting places of those who had passed given a renewed sense of respect. He turned to Nova, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and relief.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice steadier now. “You’ve done more than you know.”

Nova nodded, her expression softening. “It was the least I could do. Everyone deserves to be remembered.”

As they walked back toward the entrance, the sunlight cast long shadows over the path, and the sounds of distant city life started to filter back in. The contrast between the tranquility of the graveyard and the bustling world outside felt profound, a reminder of the delicate balance between memory and life.

Noah glanced at Nova, a small, genuine smile on his face. “Let’s head back. I owe you a proper tour of the city—and maybe a few more pastries.”

Nova chuckled, the warmth returning to her demeanor. “I’d like that. But first, let’s enjoy the rest of the day.”

They made their way out of the graveyard, the old fence creaking as they passed through. The park beyond looked a bit more inviting now, the sunlight breaking through the clouds and casting a golden hue over the scene. As they stepped back into the lively streets, the earlier tension seemed to dissolve, replaced by a sense of shared understanding and new beginnings.

With a final glance back at the restored graveyard, Nova and Noah continued their journey, their steps lighter and their spirits uplifted by the quiet act of kindness