Bramblewick Thistlehop's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Bramblewick Thistlehop hopped onto an overturned crate so he could meet the seller's eyes. He smoothed his coat, fanned three fresh business cards across his palm, and announced himself as Heroic Consultant and founder of the Thistlehop Academy. The seller squinted down at him, then laughed once and looked over his head, waiting for the real buyer to arrive. Bramblewick kept smiling. He had survived fourteen disasters in a single year. He could survive being mistaken for a child again. The building behind the seller was the only one left in the region, and Bramblewick needed it. He tapped the card again and cleared his throat, ready to begin. He reached into his coat and produced the badge. It was heavy, engraved with mountains and compasses, and it caught the afternoon light just right. He set it on the crate between them. The seller glanced at the sagging tavern behind him, the peeling paint, the rusted chains on the faded sign. Then he glanced at the badge. Then he laughed again. "Son," the seller said, "that property isn't for play money. Come back with your father." He turned and started locking the broken shutters. Bramblewick's smile did not move. He gestured, calmly, toward the lane behind him, where a tall carved sign already stood among the weeds. Polished wood. Vines curling up the posts. THISTLESTOP ACADEMY in deep, confident letters. The seller looked at the sign. He stopped locking the shutters. "You put that up already," the seller said. It was not a question. Bramblewick nodded once. The seller rubbed his jaw, then shook his head. "Take it down by sundown. I'm not selling to you. I'm not selling to anyone who answers to that." He pocketed his keys and walked off. Bramblewick stayed on the crate a long moment, the badge cooling in his palm, the sign still standing behind him like a promise he had not been given permission to make.