More tame conversation followed, a welcome reprieve as I tried to clarify, once again, that I truly had no idea where my own path might lead.
“It’s actually amazing to meet someone who builds things the way I do,” she said, her fingers gliding to a recessed button on the table and pressing it with deliberate firmness.
A soft mechanical whir rose from within as the table sank inward by the smallest fraction, like a creature exhaling.
“You still haven’t told me what exactly you create.”
She lingered before replying, fingertips resting lightly at the edge of the table. “This is one of them.”
My eyes narrowed. I placed my own hand where hers had been and, a heartbeat later, while still trying to puzzle out what made the table so unusual, a shiver jolted up my arm and I let out a startled, involuntary “Ah!”
“Pfft.” Mei snorted, then smothered her amusement behind her palm before dissolving into a soft fit of muffled laughter. “It’s just a cleaning solution. Relax.”
I drew my hand back and refused to dip it in again, watching instead as the plates remained submerged in the liquid. It streamed across their surfaces and over Mei’s slender fingers with seamless precision. The gelatin vanished first, then the stray crumbs, then even the gleam of honey. Napkins dissolved next.
Her fingers emerged unscathed, spotless, dry, and faintly gleaming.
She pulled them away and gave a playful flick in the air. “It evaporates fast, too.”
I eyed the liquid with a healthy dose of suspicion, tracking the way it disappeared into fine pores in the table, swallowing everything but leaving the platters immaculate.
“Where does it even go?” I murmured aloud, glancing at Mei.
She gave a small, unconcerned shake of her head. “No idea. Probably the sewage system. Not really my department.”
“And you invented this?” I asked, incredulous. Her nod came immediately.
“So you make… what, household gadgets? Battle gear?”
She stacked two plates deftly while I juggled our armload of clothes.
“More the former than the latter,” she replied, standing and carrying the plates to a tall stack at the stall’s edge before setting them down. “Battle gear is more for me than for anyone else.”
If even a modest shopping mall used her little table device, I couldn’t begin to imagine how much wealth this “little girl” had at her fingertips. So… what exactly had counted as “too much spending” for her father to confiscate her Marks?
We drifted back into the crowd, not stepping into any stores, but letting our eyes wander. I decided to probe a little further, to learn more about this place.
“What about school?” I called over my shoulder.
She glanced back after her gaze snagged on a storefront where a man stood shouting about a chance to win valuables hidden in small boxes for a bargain price, his voice luring a throng of eager customers.
She stopped walking.
“What do you mean? Do I go to school?”
“Yeah,” I said. “And also, do most people here go? For how long?”
She gave me a sly, mischievous grin. “You thinking of staying? We wouldn’t have to visit your home anymore.”
I could tell she was teasing, but the notion flickered through my mind nonetheless. Still, there was too much I didn’t know about this country. I’d left the State chasing freedom from its absurd rules; the last thing my group needed was a similar prison with a different ideology.
“Not yet. And I still have my own Kingdom, remember?”
“Of six?” she asked with mockery curling her voice.
I drew myself up with all the pride I could muster, noticing how her attention kept flicking back to the “chance” shop. “Of course. And it’s nine… or ten now. Plus our army of lizards led by the great commander-puppy, Bristle.”
Her eyes widened, incredulous. “I’m really starting to wonder if anything you say can be trusted.”
“Bristle is a great leader, you’ll see when you come,” I insisted, feigning mock offense as if she had insulted a decorated general.
I started forward again, but Mei lingered, her gaze snagged on the lively crowd testing their luck.
“You want to go in?” I asked with a chuckle, noting the way her attention refused to shift.
“N—no. Those places are scams. Just a waste of money.” But her tone dipped ever so slightly, enough to plant suspicion in me.
“If you just buy one or two for fun, it should be harmless,” I said carefully. “We’ll just avoid going overboard.”
She seemed to wrestle silently with herself, lips tightening, before finally shaking her head. “I got in trouble for it last time.”
My brow arched. “Why?”
“I… all of them,” she whispered.
I waited, giving her space for clarification.
“I got annoyed and tried to buy all of them, okay!” she burst out, flustered, cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
Easy. Breathe.
A laugh clawed up my throat, but I forced it back down and rested a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’m guessing buying every single one wasn’t exactly permitted.”
She sighed, lowering her head. “No. And it wouldn’t have been worth it anyway. The prizes are just trinkets at best. Dad found out and… I got in trouble.”
Maybe she wasn’t quite the spoiled princess I thought. Not to the extent of escaping consequences, at least. Still, the fact that her father’s punishment lingered so heavily in her that she balked at even entering now struck me a bit.
I nudged her forward with a gentle push. “Let’s just check it out. I’ve never seen one before.”
She took a tentative step, then another, until I moved ahead, taking the lead so she could follow my steadier pace. Together we wove through the bodies of children tugging at sleeves, parents haggling, and adolescents clustering in noisy groups—careful not to shove.
Clusters of people formed around different tables, each piled with small black boxes beneath posters plastered with bright illustrations of possible prizes. The cacophony of voices clashing into a constant roar that blurred words into noise was near overwhelming.
The first section was clearly meant for the youngest, consisting of tiny figurines and toys advertised on the posters. The space teemed with children flanked by watchful parents.
The next table drew a slightly older crowd, kids just about Mei’s age. Its poster showed finely carved wooden emblems, intricate little designs that spoke of patient craftsmanship. They were interesting enough, but I couldn’t quite grasp the appeal until I noticed one girl clutching her bag proudly decorated with several of the emblems.
“What do you think looks the most fun?” I shouted down to Mei, leaning closer so she could catch my voice through the racket.
She scanned the rows with sharp, deliberate eyes. Her violet gaze halted on the least crowded section, where the poster depicted nothing more than a single… small rock. She lifted her finger, pointing. “That one. The prizes change a lot here, but that table always has minerals.”
“Are they rare?” I asked, puzzled.
She shrugged. “I like rocks.”
That was a fair enough answer, and at least it made our approach easier. Only a couple of others bothered with the mineral table, leaving space for us to slip in without effort.
I squinted at the script scrawled across the placard. The letters resembled those of the State, but skewed in ways that made it difficult to read. Close enough for recognition, but different enough to bring about some mild frustration. Maybe for someone like Griffith or another resident of the State, it would have been simple to figure out, but not to me.
“What does it say?” I asked, resigned.
She spared me the humiliation of dwelling on my illiteracy and answered directly. “Three per customer. Prizes are: Lose: just a normal stone. Win: an imitation jewel. Big Win: an Animora Stone.”
I leaned close to her ear, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can’t we just sense which prize holds Animora?”
She turned to me, almost affronted, her expression layered with disapproval. “One: That’s no fun. Two—” She gestured at the black boxes, their surfaces scaled and ridged, each one just large enough to fill my palm with fingers stretched wide. “Those things block the flow of Animora. Even if you can sense it—”
“You can’t,” I finished for her, raising both hands in mock surrender. “There are six between us, right? You pick first.”
She wasted no time, going straight to work, lifting each box in turn, testing the weight, tilting it up and down, pressing her ear close, applying every method she seemed to have developed through practice. Mei was captivated, utterly in her element.
I, however, was far less sporting. I hated to lose.
First, I tested the obvious. Activating my Precursor Sense, seeking the telltale pulse of life hidden within. But Mei had been right. Only the beats of those around me. The boxes themselves were silent. No crimson glow. Nothing.
Next.
Luna? I reached inward.
Napping, came her drowsy reply.
I blinked in disbelief. You can nap?
Something I learned from you, she murmured. Close my senses, stop thinking. It works the same.
Well… you’re not anymore.
She coiled more tightly around my wrist, irritation prickling through the bond. Thanks to you. The purification drags on forever, and that stupid dra—worm keeps insisting I ignore it and focus on the seed instead. Too much to juggle.
I didn’t argue. I understood her frustration. Instead, I tried to ease it. You’re probably just strong, or at least, more talented than most. Training takes longer when you can hold more. Think of it like filling your belly: bigger stomach, more food needed. More talent, more energy to contain.
Her vine loosened a fraction. Thanks… What is it you want?
Going to send Beast Force into you. Just a warning.
Go ahead. I’m going to rest more.
So I did. I let the flower slip back into her slumber and funneled the Beast Force into my sight, activating my True Sight.
The black boxes lay arranged in flat rows across the two tables, stacked no higher than two apiece.
No guarantee existed that any mineral inside would emit a Force distinct enough to betray itself. Yet, to my surprise and excitement, one did.
Not overwhelming or a beacon, but faintly unique. A darker, more vibrant green than the usual Wind Force I had seen before. Richer. Heavier. A shade deeper than the rest, like moss thriving in shadow. Not powerful, but unmistakably different.
Mei glanced back just as I locked my gaze on that single anomaly.
“Hold these,” she ordered briskly, dumping three chosen boxes into the cradle of my arms. “Bathroom.”
Before I could answer, she darted off toward a corner of the shop, vanishing into the crowd.
My eyes never left the one box.
With a swift, practiced motion, I shifted my hand, swapping one of Mei’s choices with the one that thrummed faintly under my sight.
Moments later, she returned, reclaiming her boxes with casual ease. “Thanks. You should pick your three now. Double our chances.”
I nodded, schooling my features into neutrality.
“I’m a novice,” I said lightly, apologetic. “So don’t expect much.”