Chapter 7: Pouch Roulette

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Pouch Roulette

The kitchen smelled like roasted garlic and warm bread.

Jared stopped in the doorway. A single plate sat at the head of the table, covered with a clean cloth. Beside it, a cup of water and a folded napkin. Everything else had been cleared away.

Zoey was already gone.

"She finished without me," he muttered.

[You were late. She’s a patient girl, not a saint.]

’I wasn’t that late.’

[You spent 20 minutes arguing with a floating system. In what world will that not make you late. ]

He pulled out a chair and lifted the cloth. Steam curled up from the plate, thick and fragrant. Roasted potatoes, a slab of seasoned meat, a spoonful of green beans glistening with butter. He touched the plate with two fingers.

Still hot.

’She didn’t say she’d reheat it. But she did.’

He sat down and picked up the fork without saying anything. The first bite made him close his eyes. He hadn’t eaten real food in weeks, not since the hospital stopped serving him anything solid, and the flavor hit like a small, polite explosion.

’This is incredible.’

[You’re making a face.]

[You’re making the face of a man who has just rediscovered gravy.]

He ignored it and kept eating. The kitchen was quiet except for the clink of his fork against the plate and the faint tick of a clock on the wall.

Then a floorboard creaked behind him.

"You’re eating alone," Zoey said.

Jared didn’t turn around. "You already finished."

"I’m allowed to finish. You were upstairs."

"I was busy."

"You were staring at a wall."

"Anyway, I’m not here to nag. I just wanted to remind you."

"Remind me of what?"

"Your promise."

He chewed slowly, buying time.

[You have no idea what she’s talking about.]

’I know that.’

"Which promise?" he asked carefully.

Zoey’s eyes narrowed. "You said you’d take me to the association tomorrow."

"Right. The association."

"Yes, the association."

"What for?" he asked. "Could you remind me again?"

She sighed, the long, dramatic sigh of someone who had explained this exact thing more than once.

"You know what for."

’I don’t, actually.’

[Hehe]

"Jared." She pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. "I’m going to get awakened tomorrow. Remember? I get assigned my first beast. You promised you’d come with me."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Right."

He kept his voice light, easy, the voice of a man who had absolutely remembered and was very excited. .

’The association. Tomorrow.’

From the memories he’d been given, he knew exactly how that would go. The association was a huge building in the center of the city, and every awakening required a registration, a queue, a waiting room, and a second queue. The lines were never favorable. The original Jared had once spent 6 hours there just to get a stamp on a form.

’That’s an entire day. An entire day I could have spent training.’

[And yet, here you are, enthusiastic about supporting your family.]

’I’m not enthusiastic.’

[Your face says otherwise.]

’My face isn’t saying anything.’

[Exactly. Maybe that’s the problem.]

He went back to his plate and kept chewing. Zoey started swinging her legs. A minute passed, then another.

"You’re quiet," Zoey said.

"I’m eating."

"Like this is a first. You’re almost always eating. But you’re usually talking while you do it. You complain about the potatoes. You tell me how the meat is dry. You narrate your own chewing."

"I do not narrate my chewing."

"You absolutely do."

[Hehe]

’Could you not do that’s

He swallowed. "I’m trying something new."

"What?"

"Silence."

"Well, stop it," she said flatly. "It’s creepy."

"Creepy?"

"You’re being weird. Please be more talkative. It fits you better."

Jared stared at her.

It was such a ridiculous request that he laughed.

"There it is," Zoey said, grinning. "I knew you were still in there."

[She’s good.]

’She’s annoying.’

[Those aren’t mutually exclusive, last I checked.]

He finished the last of the potatoes and wiped his mouth with the napkin. The plate was clean. The cup was empty. He stood, carried the dishes to the sink, and rinsed them without being asked.

"Thanks for the food," he said.

Zoey blinked. "You... washed the plate."

"Yes, I washed the plate."

"You never wash the plate."

"Well, I’m turning over a new leaf."Jared was starting to get tired of the constant questions.

"Are you sick?"

"I’m fine."

She looked at him sideways for a long moment, then shrugged and hopped off the counter.

"Fine. Weirdo. I’ll see you later. And don’t forget about tomorrow."

"I won’t."

"Well say it."

"I won’t forget tomorrow."

"Good."

She padded out of the kitchen. Jared dried his hands on a towel and stood there a moment, listening to her footsteps fade.

He smiled, barely, and shook his head. ’Annoying.’

He walked out the back door and stepped into the sunlight.

The yard stretched out in front of him, wide and flat, bordered by a low stone wall and a line of old trees.

It was larger than the memories made it seem.

Jared stood still and let his eyes travel across it.

’The memories are like a brochure. Pretty good, but they don’t have the size. Or the smell.’ The air carried the scent of cut grass and faint ash. ’I guess memories can’t top the real thing.’

[That’s might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day.]

’It’s only an observation.’

[If you say so]

He crossed the yard to the center. From his belt hung a small leather pouch, rough and worn at the corners. The original Jared had bought it months ago. It was a standard piece of equipment. In this world, the average beast master carried one just like it, a place to keep their gems close and safe.

He untied the string and tipped it open.

Ten gems glittered in the light. He picked one out without really looking. It was cool in his palm, smooth, deep blue. It pulsed faintly, like a slow tide.

’Okay. Let’s see what I’ve got.’

He lifted his arm to drop it.

[Rex.]

He froze, hand in midair.

"What?"

[Look at the gem.]

He looked.

The blue pulsed again. It wasn’t a beast he was at luxury of using at the moment.

[PositionTurtle (SSS Rank)]

Jared’s stomach dropped.

"Oh."

[That’s right. A turtle the size of skyscrapers. In a residential yard. With a neighbor on each side and a girl in the house. Yet you were just about to drop it.]

"I wasn’t."

[You were literally mid drop.]

"I was just checking the weight."

[Of course you were.]

He lowered his arm very slowly, as if the gem might explode.

He closed his fist around the gem and tucked it back into the pouch, carefully, with both hands.

He leaned against the weapon rack and let the realization settle. He was at home. Zoey was home. The neighbors had windows. The only beast anyone in this world knew he owned was the Ground Dragon. Everything else was a secret. If he summoned anything else, there would be questions, and he had no good answers for any of them.

’I can’t use the others. Not here. Not until I figure out how to explain it.’

[Correct. For now, you’re a one dragon show.]

"This is going to get tiring at some point," he muttered.

[Yes. But you’ll survive.]

"That’s debatable."

[It’s mostly true.]

He sighed and dug into the pouch again, more carefully this time. He felt for the one that was warmest, a heavy, patient weight, and pulled it out.

This one he knew.

’Ground Dragon.’

[Look at that. You’re sensory abilities are rather good. I’m so proud.]

"Shut up."

[I’m just saying, this is really good start.]

Jared rolled his shoulders, planted his feet, and held the gem out over the packed dirt.

He took a breath.

’Okay. Let’s do this.’

He let go.

The gem struck the ground with a bright crack, and the yard lit up.