How? How had I let Sigura talk me into this?

I was glad that this body didn't need to breathe. If it had, I felt as though the nerves eating away at me would have left me a shaking, hyperventilating mess. Though even if I had been a mess, at least I would have been Humanoid. That still would have felt less embarrassing and alien than the situation I was in now.

The sun was shining. No clouds hung in the sky either, or so the lack of shadows on the surrounding buildings and street told me. The weather was looking good despite the apparent winter chill.

With Sigura and Streiphen by my side, we stood in front of the Nastrega Shopping Center, a bustling hub of commerce for the Don's territory. It was a long, winding building coated in red paint, illuminated by the rays of the sun and the various signs and logos scattered around the huge entranceway, all advertising the various businesses contained within. All around us, there were children, adults and businesspeople walking, chatting, and laughing.

And here I was, disturbing that peace. Our group had gotten a few strange looks and people keeping their distance, but none had tried to attack or shout at us to leave. I didn't know how I'd have reacted if they had. Even without the abuse of civilians, I was sweating buckets, my body shuddering and weeping beneath my bronze helmet.

I really, really wished that I hadn't made a fan. I'd need to get one of the other Casters to help me make some sort of a cloaking artefact. I needed something that would give me [Conceal Presence], or an illusory [Glamour] that worked on my hulking body. Maybe I could masquerade as a wagon, or some sort of colourful float used at parades. Not ideal, but achievable.

Both Streiphen and Sigura looked ecstatic, so I tried to keep a brave face. They had been looking forward to coming here, which had only made me less and less confident about saying I was still apprehensive about coming. I didn't want to make them worry or reconsider their trip. I had to tough it out, for their sake. I was only hoping Streiphen didn't look at my aura through [Insight]. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd see through that lens.

The other two were still dressed in their casual wear, looking like a pair of strange tourists. Out of place, but not entirely alien, either.

Streiphen, the boy with dark grey skin, stars in his eyes, and a white Unicorn-like horn protruding from his forehead, looked the most normal out of the three of us. With his blue puffy jacket, white fur covered hood and thick gloves, he could almost pass for an average child if one didn't look too closely at his face.

Sigura was recognisably a Half Nekari, but with her wild mane of hair and glowing chest beneath her light clothes, she stuck out much more. Not just because she stood over seven feet tall, but because she wore the type of clothes one might wear during a summer jog, and not in the middle of a northern winter beneath snow. Still, her swaying golden blond tail betrayed the joy she felt. She was armed with a bulging pouch heavy with coin within the pockets of her shorts. I pitied any [Thief] or [Pickpocket] that even tried to steal from her. Not that I thought anyone would try, given the appearance of our group.

Even among them, I stood out like a Goliath in a crowd of Dwarves. A four legged Spider-like metal mech, one with another four legs holding a Snail shell helmet made of bronze on top. At least the bronze rose at the front of my mech helped to make me look a little less threatening. I hoped.

"You two ready?" Sigura asked with a grin, looking between me and the child.

"Yeah!" Streiphen exclaimed loudly, drawing a few more eyes to look in our direction. As if we needed any more people staring.

"[... Yes,]" I lied, steeling myself for the ordeal ahead.

Sigura laughed, patting the side of my mech with one hand, the other ruffling Streiphen's hair.

"C'mon then, let's see what this place has to offer!"

She stepped forward, leading us through the entrance of the shopping center. There were no doors or walls separating the street from the interior, but a semi-transparent pane of orange light covered the entrance. I didn't need to remove my helmet to tell what it was for. A number of shivering civilians came through the screen off the streets, blowing into their hands. Another walking past stuck their hands in through the light, rubbing them together before regretfully leaving the warmth behind. It was designed to keep out the draft and the winter chill. I suspected that not having to even open a door to enter made it more accessible for customers, too. I was just glad that the entrance could accommodate me with room to spare.

The floor was tiled, with a checkered pattern of light blue and white squares. Was it just a popular design in the north? The Don favoured designs like this too, and it reminded me of Dronrowth. Had that abandoned shopping center been like this one, back in its prime? When we'd found it, the place was nothing but crumbling walls and lonely mannequins. I couldn't picture Dronrowth being anything like this.

Streiphen's shoes squeaked against the tiles as he ran between the crowds, parting from Sigura and I. Her head whipped in his direction, but I saw his destination before she did. With her height, she could see over the crowds, but through my [Sensory Zone], I could see through them.

"Hey! Don't run off!" Sigura called out, jogging after Streiphen.

I didn't want to make a scene, and felt relieved that I didn't need to shout and attract the attention of others to communicate with my allies. [Telepathy] was one plus this body had over my old one.

"[It's fine, Sigura. I can still see him,]" I told her, and her alone.

She didn't slow her jog, arriving at Streiphen's side. She reached down, gripping the boy's wrist.

"Don't run off like that, pipsqueak," she growled, looking down at him. "We don't know how dangerous this place is, yet."

Streiphen didn't look the least bit intimidated, which I was glad to see. Instead, he gave Sigura a nod, pointing towards a device in front of the pair as I slowly approached through the parting crowds.

It was a tall, blue box, one with a glass face and a metallic interior. Buttons lined the space next to the glass, and a plastic panel housing Selarium stood just above them, a style similar to that of the Don's doorways. Within it were a number of small artefacts, each small enough to fit into a person's hand. All of them had a small, round metal button on the top, with different attachments on the front. Some had glass lenses, others had crisscrossing black markings, and others had strips of what looked like brown paper.

Above each row within the device was a set of bold, black letters, each marking the function of the artefacts they held.

'DISPOSABLE RECORDER - SIGHT'

'DISPOSABLE RECORDER - SOUND'

'DISPOSABLE RECORDER - TOUCH'

Once Sigura had let the boy go, he stepped up to the box, pressing his face against the glass.

"Can I get one?" Streiphen asked, turning to look up at Sigura with pleading eyes. "Please? I won't lose it."

Sigura's eyes were on the box, and I could see the interest in her eyes too.

"Fine," Sigura said, reaching into her pocket. "Just one. I don't know how those things work either, pipsqueak, so you'll have to figure it out yourself."

Streiphen's eyes lit up, his head shaking with an ecstatic nod.

"I will!"

She pulled a few silver coins from the pouch, and I felt my body tighten up reflexively.

This was our money. Money we'd earned through work. It wasn't an adventurer's work, but it was close enough that it felt the same to me. We were gathering supplies to help us survive, but this wasn't an essential purchase or a business expense, was it? I wasn't about to tell Streiphen he shouldn't buy it, but the sight of it twisted a knot within me.

This is important. With a Recorder, Streiphen can scope out the area to help us understand everything a little better. This is to let us relax and unwind, to relieve our stress and allow us to get into a better mindset for further work. Relax...

I thought of Shafu, and wondered if she would have made this purchase. She was a full member of the Velvet Star, and... I could definitely see her doing the same thing Streiphen was. I was worrying too much about this. I needed to... to try and relax.

"Do you want one too, Yur?" Sigura asked, looking over her shoulder at me.

A Recorder...?

"[I can't hold it, Sigura. I don't have hands.]"

"Yeah, I know. If you want to take a picture, I'll hold it for you. Just tell me where to point and shoot," she replied, nodding as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Was that acceptable? Could I truly reconcile that as a 'business expense' when-

"[Alright,]" I told her with a nod. "[I'd like one too, please. Sight.]"

Sigura grinned, stepping up to the machine after Streiphen had retrieved his. I was confident he was holding the artefact upside-down, but Sigura had said to let him figure it out on his own. The thought helped to unwind the anxious knot trapped within me.

The Half Nekari pressed the top of the three metallic buttons. A metallic claw within the box moved, gripping the Recorder before lowering, moving with a slowness that led Sigura to start tapping her foot with crossed arms. With a soft rattle, the device was deposited into a small collection area at the bottom. Sigura pushed open a metal flap, grabbing the Recorder.

There were other Recorders around the center, too. These seemed to be a somewhat popular purchase around here, if the people taking pictures of the storefronts, each other, and us were any indication.

"Miss Yuri!" Streiphen called out. To show I was listening, I turned my mech around. The boy aimed the Recorder at me, lens facing forward. He held it as far out as his arms could reach, and then, he pressed the button on top. The device gave off a soft glow, and then a click.

With a smile, he brought it close to his face, inspecting the device.

"Did it work?" he asked us, squinting as he looked at it from all angles, shifting it around in his grip.

"Prob'ly," Sigura shrugged, patting the boy on the shoulder. "We can ask around or look at how other people use 'em for hints, anyway."

Streiphen nodded, beaming as he stepped forward, pocketing the Recorder with a cheery "Okay!"

Sigura led the way, and my zone expanded to take in the rows of shops on either side of us. When I thought of a 'shopping center', my mind went to a marketplace or bazaar, an indoor collection of stalls that sold fruits, vegetables, parts for building or construction, and knick knacks.

What I hadn't expected was the sheer variety of businesses, some of which I'd never heard of before. A [Dentist's] office, one with a poster stuck to the inside of the window looking for people with 'at least twenty Levels in the [Nurse] Class'. A poster next to it said they were a 'generalist' and would take races of all kinds as customers.

Across from it was a much darker, more macabre looking shop than that of the pristine [Dentist]. It was a tattoo parlor, one without a door or front wall. Within, I saw a Darkling with a glowing needle tipped with colour. With a meticulous hand, they drew a pair of hearts, one black and one white, onto the arm of an eager, joyous looking Satyr woman.

Sigura's eyes were drawn to the tattoo parlor with obvious interest. I hadn't pegged Sigura as the type to want a tattoo, but the look in her eyes made her intent obvious. My attention had landed on something else. Another business.

The storefront was green. Around an archway, vines and flowers spilled out, snaking along the walls and partially covering the windows. Behind the windows sat clay pots filled with dirt. Flowers of many shapes and sizes stood proudly from those pots, growing upwards and pressing against the front windows as if begging for attention.

They'd certainly caught mine.

"[Sigura? Could I get some money?]" I asked, refocusing on the Half Nekari.

She nodded, stepping around my body. I saw what she was doing as the pouch left her pocket. Unlatching the door to my compartment, she slipped it inside, looking over her shoulder and down at Streiphen.

"Hey, pipsqueak. If Yuri wants to buy anything, you're to count the money and hand the coins over, got it? That's your job."

Streiphen nodded firmly, his eyes drifting up towards me.

"You can count on me!" Streiphen chirped, determination oozing from his tone.

Sigura snickered, nodding as she turned. "Don't be afraid to splash out a little, Yur."

It was easy to see where her attention was. As I turned to head for the flower shop, she began to walk towards the tattoo parlor. If she hadn't taken any money with her, maybe she was just going to see what the [Tattoo Artist] could do.

With Streiphen humming next to me, I stepped forward into the flower shop. The ground was tiled green, and the walls looked to be the same colour. If I'd thought the front of the store had looked unkempt, the rest of the store put that thought to shame. Vines and ropes hung from the ceiling and walls, all of which held dangling pots, cases and containers. Flowers and mushrooms, both mundane and magical, sat all around me. A box filled with sacks of seed and mulch sat next to the counter, one that sat much lower than those of other stores. Even Streiphen could see over the wooden desk with ease.

We were the only customers in the store, but far from the only life. While part of me had expected this forest-like store to have Butterflies or Caterpillars, the reality was far different. Streiphen hadn't seen them yet, since they were clustered in the back, tending to a mushroom.

They were all short, barely standing two feet tall. All of them had twisted, wrinkled green skin, their faces little more than dark depressions for a mouth and eyes, and a long, thin stick of a nose. On each of their heads bloomed a flower, which seemed to be the only appealing thing about them. Each seemed to grumble to one another in a garbled, incomprehensible tongue.

Streiphen stepped inside with mouth agape, staring around at the plants sitting on the floor, walls and ceiling. We were surrounded, and it felt as though we'd been transported from the center of a city to a cluttered, verdant jungle.

The desk, which stood as a comparative beacon of normality, was carved to look like a fallen tree, complete with rings on either end. On the counter was a small figurine, that of a familiar, stereotypical Gnome design, and one I'd seen many times before. Blue shirt, brown cotton pants, and a tall, conical red hat.

Streiphen approached the counter, looking around for employees. When he saw that we were alone, the boy frowned.

"Hello?" he called out, a sound that echoed against the walls.

A pale white glow enveloped the figurine on the desk. It began to lightly shake, the hollow shoes of the toy tapping against the wood. Its eyes opened, and it spoke.

"Hello! Welcome to Glalus' Greens! How can I help you?"

Streiphen's hands crept over the top of the desk, his eyes locked on the talking figure.

"Are you the owner?" he murmured quietly, as if afraid the figure would run away.

"I am an assistant. The owner will be with you shortly. How can I help you?"

Leaving Streiphen to his own devices with the talking figure, I began to walk around the store. I kept my movements slow and cautious, not wanting to accidentally crush any of the flowers. Part of me worried that those little wrinkled creatures would start running around if I got too close. I didn't want to crush them by accident either.

I didn't need to walk to see anything. My zone could encompass the entire store on its own. Still, the feeling of moving my own body through this miniature forest, knowing I was safe and with a friend, was somewhat cathartic, in a sense. I couldn't explain it, but the feeling was pleasant.

While my awareness drank in the sights around me, a moss covered trap door at the back of the store creaked, swinging open. My awareness flooded down far enough into the darkness to see the figure beginning to ascend the steps.

For a brief moment, I mistook the Gnome for a thin Dwarf. The owner had the frizzy hair of a Gnome, and lacked the muscle mass of a Dwarf, but the sight of him had caught me off guard. The Gnome's white beard was as thick as any bush within the store, a sight that would've put a younger Dwarf to shame. That same hair spilled down over his blue shirt and black overalls from his head, nearly long enough to touch the floor. His face looked like an overgrown garden, with a beard that obscured his mouth and cheeks, and eyebrows so bushy that only the lids were visible when looking at him directly.

Wearing a pair of squeaky green farmer's boots, he climbed the creaking staircase, closing it behind him as he stepped into the store.

"Hello!" Streiphen chirped with a wave, speaking before the man had even arrived at the counter.

"Greetings, young ma-" the Gnome, who sounded elderly, spoke. His words caught in his throat as he saw me, a colossal mass of steel, stepping around his dainty flowers. I prayed to any Gods that were listening that he wouldn't have a heart attack on the spot.

Instead, the man coughed into a fist, looking between Streiphen and I.

"Can I help you two gentlemen?" he said, looking a little less shocked now. That being said, reading his expression was even harder than that of a normal person, concealed as he was by hair.

"[Umm... apologies for intruding,]" I spoke, my voice as even and diplomatic as I could get it. "[We were just looking around for... flowers.]"

With a chorus of incomprehensible grumbling, the group of six wrinkled creatures ran out from the underbrush, moving past Streiphen and over to the Gnome.

"Woah! What are those?" Streiphen exclaimed, stepping towards them without a care in the world.

The Gnome had been looking up at me for a few long, uncomfortable seconds, before dragging his gaze back down towards Streiphen.

"These're Mandrakes," he told Streiphen, both arms sweeping out as if to present the group. "My own little assistants. Grew 'em myself downstairs. If yer in the market for a helper around the garden, they'll do the job if you treat 'em well."

With those deep frowns, wrinkled skin and hollow features, I knew that I wouldn't want them anywhere near my house.

"Sorry for assumin', Miss," the Gnome said, looking back up towards me. "Are... are these flowers for yourself?"

I shook my mech side to side, an action that sent the 'Mandrakes' into a frenzy, chattering as they parted from the Gnome, surrounding me. Looking at them, I couldn't bring myself to feel threatened. Compared to everything else I'd been forced to fight in this city, they were tiny.

"[No. They're... for our room. We're looking for decorations.]"

The Gnome nodded, scratching at his beard with a finger. He grumbled what sounded like words of warning, spoken in an unfamiliar tongue. The Mandrakes turned towards him, scrambling away from me and back into the underbrush.

"Do you sell these, too?" Streiphen asked, pointing towards the Gnome figurine on the counter.

The hesitant salesman shook his head, reaching up with stubby fingers to grasp the figure in his hand.

"I'm afraid not. This little Shabti isn't for sale. I don't make them, either. It was a gift."

"Oh... okay," Streiphen nodded, looking a little crestfallen. I resolved to find something similar to it around the shopping center, if possible. Then, the Chimera pulled out his Recorder, beginning to turn it around the room.

"You have so many really nice flowers!" Streiphen exclaimed, snapping pictures of the Mandrakes as they rustled around a bed of mushrooms.

The Gnome's expression seemed to soften, and he put the Shabti back on the counter, stepping out from behind it to approach Streiphen.

"Thank you kindly, young man."

"What's all that on the ceiling?" Streiphen asked, pointing before snapping a multitude of pictures.

"[Lumen Lichen,]" I told Streiphen, my awareness turning towards the glowing green moss lining the ceiling. "[It's a type of glowing moss found all around the world. It helps to illuminate caves, changes colour based on its home region, and can be used to stabilise alchemical regents.]"

The Gnome raised a bushy eyebrow, looking back towards me.

"You certainly know your stuff, Miss."

I was glad this form didn't have a visible blush, or perform any stranger, grosser equivalent. It was a fluke. I didn't know much about plants, but I'd read about Lumen Lichen while doing research about a nearby cave back in Addersbrook. I'd wanted to make sure it wasn't poisonous.

"[T-thank you.]"

"What about that one?" Streiphen asked, swinging his Recorder towards a group of flowers with layers of interlocked white petals, all sitting against the windows at the entrance of the store.

"St. Barclay's Camelia," he answered with a grin. "They're a tough flower, but one you'd best watch out for. The center of the plant is toxic. Not life threatenin', but it'll make you mighty sick if you eat it. The petals make a lovely jam, and the extract goes well with tea, if that's your taste."

"And that one?" Streiphen said, swinging the Recorder skyward, towards a pair of pink-red glowing roses swaying slightly within a glass cage high above.

"Lady's Thorns," the Gnome responded. "If you live in the city, I can't sell it to ya. They're a little dangerous to be around, so you'd need some approval to get your hands on 'em."

"[Dangerous? Do you mean they're poisonous?]"

"Not at all," the Gnome replied with a shake of his head, a motion that swung his bushy beard back and forth. "They grow more than any other plant, or so they say. With enough care, the vines and roses grow at an unreal speed, makin' walls of roots and spiny thorns. I heard tell of a [Lady] in the south coverin' the entire outside of her castle in the stuff. It's not a plant to be taken lightly."

Castle walls?? That small rose? I knew after seeing the telltale glow that the flower was magic, but an effect like that was... incredible. Frightening, but incredible.

"Aww... it's so pretty, too," Streiphen mumbled, taking a few snaps of the caged roses.

"Even the pretty ones are to be watched out for," the Gnome smiled. "It's a beauty, but one that can't be handled lightly. She's dangerous if you let her out of your sight for even a second."

I nodded in agreement, idle thoughts swirling within my head.

My mind's eye turned towards a space near the back of the store, landing on a cluster of flowers with oversized petals, nestled behind a massive root crawling up along the wall. The petals had a dark green colour to them, all surrounding a soft golden center. The stem was long, and the top of the flower sagged forward and down, as if the stem's length couldn't support the petals' weight.

It was the colour of those petals that had caught my eye. The colour of leaves in the shade.

"[What are those?]" I asked, pointing towards the flowers with a single mechanical leg.

"Viridian Hats. They're a plain flower, but they can weather a storm better than any other. Some say they're a little gloomy lookin', with the way they sag forward, but I don't think of 'em that way," the Gnome spoke, crossing his arms. "They're not always the brightest flower, or the biggest, but they're persistent. They stick around, through thick and thin."

"Not the most popular flower, that," the Gnome shrugged, turning back towards the counter. "But I keep 'em all the same."

My mind's eye lingered on them for a few seconds longer. The sound of chattering Mandrakes, the clicking of Streiphen's Recorder and the murmuring of the crowds beyond the entrance were the only sounds around.

"[How much would it cost to buy a few?]" I asked, turning my mech around to face him.

"For a bunch of four? 110 Dia."

Dia? He was the old fashioned type, then. One silver coin, and ten bronze.

"[I'll take them,]" I said, directing my [Telepathy] towards both the Gnome and to Streiphen. He blinked, looking up from his clicking Recorder to approach my mech.

The Gnome, Glalus, watched as the compartment on the side gingerly rose, giving Streiphen access to Sigura's pouch. He pulled at the string, looking into the bag.

"Umm... how much is 110 Dia?" Streiphen asked, his brows furrowed as he rummaged through the pouch. He'd been standing on his tiptoes to reach the bag, so I lowered my body, giving him easier access.

"One silver and ten bronze," the Gnome answered, walking towards the trap door. He opened it up as Streiphen rummaged, disappearing into the basement.

"[Did you want to get anything, Streiphen?]" I asked, hoping I wasn't breaking his concentration.

I heard a plink from within my mech as he placed a silver coin down inside the compartment. The heads of the coin had a circle in the center, one surrounded on all sides by six triangular shapes. The symbol of the Sacred Six.

"I'm okay!" he responded, planting bronze coin after coin down around the silver. "I got a lot of pictures! I want to save this money too, because it's important."

Once he'd retrieved the coins, he tightened the rope around the mouth of the pouch once again, scooping them into his hand. The Gnome returned, carrying a cluster of four flowers with a white band tightening them together. The Viridian Hats.

"Here you go!" Streiphen said, planting the coins down onto the counter.

The Gnome nodded, handing Streiphen the bundle before scooping the coins into a pouch of his own. "Thank you kindly."

With a smile and one last glance at the Gnome-like 'Shabti' on the counter, he walked back towards me, gingerly placing the cluster of flowers within my mech. He stepped back with a satisfied smile, allowing me to reseal the compartment.

"[Thank you for your services,]" I told the Gnome, the front of my mech bowing in tandem.

The Gnome's shoulders slackened with what I took to be relief, and he gave me a nod in return. "You're very welcome, Miss."

I turned around, spotting the cluster of grumbling Mandrakes watching me from behind, all crouching fearfully behind a shrub. I stepped forward, feeling a surprising warmth and lightness permeate my body despite the scrutiny of the small creatures. My legs tapped lightly against the green tiles of the verdant jungle, moving forward once again.

Beginning to hum again, Streiphen followed me out of the store. I saw the Shabti wave to us on our way out, and I felt none of the nerves from before within me as we left.

The two of us stepped back into the shifting crowd of the Nastrega Shopping Center. Natural light illuminated our path as we calmly traversed the churning waves of civilians without incident. Perhaps it was the ease with which we moved, or the casual gait the two of us shared, but it didn't feel as though everyone's eyes were on me anymore. My [Sensory Zone] showed me a few people pointing and glancing in my direction, but their gazes and gestures didn't have that same grip over my nerves as before.

Spotting my hulking form above the masses, Sigura stepped out of the tattoo parlor, one hand clenched around a black magazine of sorts. A collection of tattoos the parlor offered, maybe.

"You two buy anything?" Sigura asked, voice raised slightly to be heard over the murmur of voices and the shuffling of feet.

"I got pictures, and Miss Yuri bought some flowers!" Streiphen smiled, looking up at Sigura with bright eyes. "Did you get a tattoo?"

Sigura raised an eyebrow, turning to lead the way through the shopping center.

"You were only gone for ten minutes. How long do you think it takes to get a proper tattoo? 'Sides, I gave you the money, remember?" Sigura responded, folding up the magazine before stuffing it into her pocket.

"Well! Umm... Maybe you could have gotten... gotten one and said you'd pay when we came back?" Streiphen responded with what sounded more like a question than an answer.

"Maybe," Sigura conceded with a shrug. "I want to get one, and I know where I want to get it, but I still have to think about it first. Tattoos aren't easy to remove, y'know?"

Without thinking or wanting to interrupt their conversation, I followed Sigura into another store, one with blue walls and a row of mannequins out front. Each depicted a different race or body type, each wearing clothes ranging from dresses to ballgowns to thick fur coats and feather boas. All of them struck fanciful poses, showing off both the flexibility of the dresses and how they worked with a number of extra features, showing off openings for tails, wings and extra legs.

A cluster of customers stood around one of the mannequins. Reaching forward to delicately tap on a glowing crystal on the mannequin's stand, the figure began to glow. They extended a hand forward, hovering it inches from the mannequin's body. The portion closest to the woman's hand began to glow as she moved from the chest, to the arm, to the wrist. She tapped the mannequin's glowing blue hands, causing the light to 'stick' even when she pulled away. With a flick of her wrist, gloves appeared on the mannequin. They were pink, with white fur around the base. The woman frowned, swiping her hand to the side as the illusory gloves blurred, changing design. The two women next to her laughed, making a recommendation as she moved to another segment of the mannequin.

It hadn't even occurred to me that Sigura was bringing me into a women's clothing store until we'd stepped inside. The knot that had hovered menacingly within me earlier returned in full force as my zone flooded in. Compared to the quaint little flower shop from before, this was a daunting, pristine world. The shop was crowded with people; women and a few men of varying races trying on clothes, chatting with friends and wandering without a care in the world.

Men and women that were, needless to say, nothing like me.

If I hadn't felt out of place before, I certainly did now. Sigura led us through an aisle with comparatively lighter clothes, an aisle that I needed to curl my legs tighter to my body just to step through. The sound of my pointed legs tapping against the tiles sounded louder than ever to my ears, and I hoped the other customers didn't take notice of it.

Shelves that stood nearly as tall as I did lined with clothes hangers revealed clothes without the bulky, fur covered aesthetic that many of the citizens were garbed in. In a place like Scander, these clothes had to have been designed specifically for Beastfolk.

For a few moments, I thought she'd stop here to browse, to look for clothes that she hadn't made herself. Clothes were the reason she'd wanted to come on this trip, after all. Instead, she didn't even spare the shirts, dresses, pants and shorts a glance.

She passed right through the aisle, arriving in an open space with rotating display wheels lined with glasses, hats and ribbons. She went to the back of the area, towards a cluster of oversized accessories, the type that even a Goliath might struggle to fit into. I wasn't sure who these were designed for, but this section boasted body paints and slip-on tattoos, too. Had she wanted to craft a tattoo herself?

She reached out, grasping one of the boxes. On the front was a posing red skinned Darkling man, one with an arm made entirely of steel. With a picturesque smile and a flexing arm, he took up the entirety of the package's front. Sigura's eyes weren't on the man himself, but on the mechanical arm. On it was a tattoo, one of a burning skull with an open jaw and flames inside the eye sockets. It seemed a little out of place among the rest of the accessories, but-

"Hey, Yur. What do you think of this?" Sigura asked, whirling around while holding out the box. "They do tattoos for metal, too. You want one?"

My body froze, as if the artificial white lights of the clothes store had turned me to stone. It took me a few seconds to process what Sigura had said.

"[For me? You want me to have it?]" I asked, metal creaking as I tried to work my legs around the turning stalls, hoping to look less like a stiff sculpture trapped between the displays.

"You don't want it?" Sigura asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked back at the cover. "There's other ones too, if you don't want it. I can find one with a rose or somethin' if-"

"[D-didn't you come here to shop for yourself, Sigura? I... I don't need to get anything like this.]"

"It's for work, Yur," Sigura told me, tail slowing in its sway as she put the packaging back. With deft fingers, she flicked through the collection on the rotating display, eyes scanning even as she spoke. "Expression of identity, remember? If it makes you feel any better, think of it like you're getting a costume ready. An outfit for work, right?"

An outfit for work... The idea of putting a tattoo of all things on my mech felt surreal. Sigura knew about these things better than I did, anyway. She was the one who had the knowledge and expertise in this field, so I decided to defer to her judgement. It wasn't as though I was in any position to talk about fashion or appearances anyway.

"[Right,]" I responded with a careful nod.

As hesitant as I was, Streiphen had no such worries. While Sigura was carefully flicking through a number of small containers, Streiphen was in the middle of trying on oversized hat after hat. His entire head and upper neck were lost beneath a black beanie, only to be replaced by a straw hat with a brim so wide Birds could have made a nest on it. As entertaining as watching Streiphen try on clothes with reckless abandon was, Sigura was here for me. She wanted me to feel better about my form, and I didn't want her determination to go to waste.

I focused my mind through the stand, examining each and every package through my zone with a speed and efficiency that even Sigura's trained eyes couldn't hope to match.

"[I think... if I'm to get a tattoo for my mech... There's one on the third row back...]" my words came hesitantly as Sigura followed my instructions, reaching inwards. "[Two from- no, no, you've gone too far. Little to the left- That one! Yes, you've got it.]"

As Sigura's clawed hands slipped between the rows of tattoo containers, she gripped the one my mind's eye had locked onto. It was a purple rose, one in an extra large size. It was hard to tell what 'extra large' meant, or what was being used as a frame of reference, but that was the design I gravitated towards. I'd find a way to make the pattern work.

Using her other arm to hold the other packages in place as she wiggled the one I'd selected out from behind the front rows, Sigura managed to pry the chosen tattoo's container free with a careful precision I couldn't hope to match. I knew for a fact that even in my old body, I would have knocked a few of the small containers over if I'd had to do what she had.

"This one...?" Sigura murmured to herself, looking over the design once she'd pulled it free. "You really like this design, huh? Is this to match the one on your mech?"

Her tone gave me pause. Did she not approve of the design I'd picked out? Her eyes were narrowed, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"[I can choose another one instead, Sigura,]" I told her, feeling a small pit of anxiety welling up within my mind.

She grimaced, wincing as her eyes shut. With a small shake of her head, she blinked. Her expression for a moment looked lost. Then, she whipped her head around towards me.

"What? Why?" she asked, a note of confusion in her voice.

"[Why what...? Is it a bad design?]" I asked, confusion beginning to seep into my own words. There was clearly some sort of miscommunication here. I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

She looked back down at the package, and then to the stand.

"No, Yur... It's fine, just struck me as somethin' real 'you', y'know?" she replied, rubbing the back of her neck.

I wasn't sure what to make of the comment. It was really... 'me'? Did she mean that it matched the design I'd crafted already?

"[Do you think I should pick something else? I like the design, but... there are other good ones, too.]"

On the spot, Sigura began to gently throw the package into the air, catching it with a deft hand every time it fell. The sight of it made me worried, an anxious ball wrapping around my insides. It wasn't our property, even, but the thought of her dropping it-

"You shouldn't give a rat's ass about my opinion here, Yur," Sigura spoke, eyes locked on me. "This is about you. If this rose thing is what you want, then that's all that matters, got it? If you're doing this for work, then it needs to reflect the person you wanna be, and your magic'll follow suit. You have to be 'you', and not the person you think I want you to be. Do you want this tattoo, Yur?"

She caught the package for the last time, pushing it in my direction.

This wasn't about my fashion sense, nor Sigura's opinion. This was about... symbols, in a sense. An adventurer, or even just a prominent Caster, needed to think about the outfits they wore. Fashion for magic users was a form of expression, a way of crystallising their identity. What a person wore said a lot about them, and... and if I wanted to shape my magic into something great, it wasn't enough to simply practice and train. I needed to reflect the person I wanted to be, and the goals I wanted to accomplish, in how I presented myself to others. That was what Sigura wanted to communicate.

"[No,]" I said finally. "[I... I like the design, and I want to copy it for my mech, but a tattoo isn't for me. I don't know how well it will apply to the metal I'm controlling, either. It might peel off, or not fit me at all. For something like that, I'd rather craft it myself.]"

Sigura rolled her shoulders, nodding definitively in what I hoped was approval. She put the box back on the shelf, pushing some of the other packages backward to leave the purple rose at the front.

"Yeah, alright. I'll look forward to it then, Yur," she responded with a grin.

"Miss Yuri!" Streiphen exclaimed.

Both Sigura and I turned to look towards the younger Chimera. His head was currently lost beneath a floppy red beret.

"I think you'd look really good in this, Miss Yuri!" he told me, voice muffled by the front of the hat covering his face.

Placing both hands on her hips, Sigura raised an eyebrow down at the boy, even if she needed to use her tail to push up the front of the beret for him to see it.

"You think so, pipsqueak?" Sigura asked, grinning again as she picked Streiphen up with both arms.

He looked around from side to side with a smile, taking the beret off as Sigura stepped forward, bringing him close to my bronze helmet. With a bit of effort, he pushed the big beret out of his hands and onto my head. It was a little lopsided at first, but Sigura positioned him higher, giving him some time to fix it.

Once the boy touched back down to earth, he stepped back over the pristine tiled floor to get a better look at me, beaming at what he saw. Once again, I was glad that my helmet was on. I didn't know what colour I must have looked like underneath.

"It's great!" Streiphen exclaimed with joy.

"Makes you look real artsy, Yur," Sigura nodded with a grin, crossing her arms. "It suits."

"[Do you really think so?]" I asked, turning my mind's eye away from the two Chimeras, away from the stands, and away from the rest of the massive store. Now, it was just focused on me.

"Yeah, but our opinions shouldn't mean shit, remember? Do you want it, Yur?"

Sigura's voice was stern. She wasn't going to be happy if I said yes for the sake of appeasing them. I knew she'd be able to tell, too. Sigura was great at that sort of thing. As much as part of me wanted to, I needed to at least have a look.

Shuffling my mechanical legs around the shelves and stands, I worked to get myself into a more natural position. As awkward as my movement was, the beret didn't seem to falter or slip. Streiphen had put it in a good spot. It wasn't big enough to fit over my entire helmet, but it sat in the center. The red colour of the hat felt warm, a nice contrast to the hard, metallic bronze beneath it. I... I found myself taking a real shine to it. If it was alright to have, then...

"[I do,]" I responded confidently, finding a good spot on the floor where I could both stand tall and not knock things over.

The sound of a snicker reached my ears, one followed by hushed whispers.

My mind's eye turned, focusing on a trio of women. Two were Darklings, and another was a Human. Their eyes were on me, and despite the distance, my zone picked up everything.

"What is that?"

"An adventurer? Why are they here? Don't they have their own stores?"

"Doesn't it seem more like a monster? Why isn't the Watch doing anything about-"

My body stiffened. Not just because of the comments that turned my body cold, but because of another look I'd caught within my vision. Streiphen hadn't heard a thing, and was still proudly looking up at the beret he'd picked out.

Sigura, however, was staring at the trio. Her eyes were wide, the Cat-like pupil sharpened and narrowed. With how perked up her ears had been, I knew she'd heard everything they'd said. They all saw her now, treating them to a death glare that would have given a Dragon pause, the sort that would cause even the Undead to start running.

For their sake, I hoped they'd leave.

The trio had grown as stiff as I had, all eyes on Sigura, now. Their eyes were on hers, frozen in place. Sigura made what looked like a casual movement to Streiphen, flexing her arms high above her head. With a muted shing, all ten of the claws at the ends of her fingers sprang out. Each caught the white light overhead, a threatening sheen that broke the spell.

The trio turned, with one of the Darklings trying to drag the other two off. With another hushed word, they left, disappearing further into the store and out of my bubble.

"[Thank you, Sigura,]" I spoke with words meant only for her. "[But I... I can handle myself.]"

The stiff rage in her eyes changed, becoming a restrained simmer. Her claws retracted, allowing her to stuff both hands into her pockets as though nothing had happened.

"I know you can... Couldn't help it." she murmured, the words too quiet even for the boy standing right next to her.

"Let's get back to 'work', alright?" Sigura spoke aloud, patting Streiphen on the head. "We've got some clothes to buy, and they ain't gonna buy themselves."

Streiphen nodded with a satisfied smile. I was glad his hearing was that of a Human. The last thing I wanted was for him to have picked up on that.

The three of us wandered the store for a while longer. Streiphen found more ribbons and hats he was eager for me to try on, but Sigura told him that he should be looking for his own clothes, too. When his expression became more determined, he began to search earnestly. It was a women's clothing store, but there were some pieces for children, too. With everything he was trying on all at once, I was reminded of Fareel's strange dress up show back at Dronrowth. Would he have been upset with us not inviting him here? We hadn't heard back from him since he left for his walk.

After one last round of the store, Sigura picked up a few garments for herself, as well as a smaller beret and matching scarf for Streiphen. The cashier gave us a stunned look as we approached the counter. As strange as it sounded, it felt as though I was getting adjusted to these looks. As... as long as no comments were made, maybe I could get used to them.

The cashier packed our things into a bag, one that Streiphen begged Sigura to let him carry, and we went on our way. My massive beret was left on my head to avoid weighing down the bag, but he was content to carry the rest. The variety of clothes available had been staggering, but I supposed that was just a perk of city life. I was just glad that Streiphen and Sigura were happy.

Once we were free of the store, Sigura led us to a central area, one with rows of curved benches. It was a temporary safe haven from traversing the crowds, and one that the others were happy to make use of. Sigura's eyes drifted along the shopping center's patrons as she sat, while Streiphen's were buried in the bag of clothes we'd purchased.

I couldn't sit on the benches, obviously, but I curled my legs up beneath me as I lowered myself to the ground behind the others. I didn't want to be in the way, of course.

Now that we had a moment to catch our breath, I cast my mind's eye around. There were countless faces among the bustling crowds, but memorising them held no merit, even if a few caught my eye. I saw a group of Beastfolk children, three young Inura standing in front of a store with ice cream in their hands and the straps of backpacks around their shoulders. The casual way with which they chatted to one another brought a feeling of relaxation to mind. They looked as happy and carefree as Streiphen did, and I took that as a sign that we'd been doing something right.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder. If Dronrowth could have been a place like this in its heyday, what about the children? What separated the children who had warm clothes, ice cream, and money, and those who didn't? Why could they live so freely while the orphans we'd met couldn't?

I figured it was a complicated question, one that I couldn't even begin to answer. I wasn't armed with nearly enough knowledge to properly frame it, but my first thought was the Disciples. If not for the damage they caused, this area would have been nicer. Perhaps it was wrong to oversimplify the issue, but if those Casters hadn't been able to cause so much damage, what knock on effects could have been prevented? Would those orphans be living easier lives? Would they have families, parents, and a simpler childhood?

I didn't know, but... it was food for thought.

Another cluster of people in their teens were stationed around one of the center's walls. Instead of sitting on the benches, they were engrossed in conversation, all surrounding a single item of interest.

On the wall was a poster, a colourful display of bright, bouncy text in pink and dark purple. The front of the poster held the winking face of a woman holding a microphone, a face that I was surprised to find I recognised. The poster was for a concert in the local area, one that prominently featured Bubblegum. Aquamarine's assistant. The thought that she could be such an important part of these people's lives that she was featured on posters in crowded places provided a feeling of reassurance. While the poster revealed her full stage name to be 'Bubblegum Blaze', I felt almost intrusive after spotting her real name at the bottom of the poster among those of the other participants at the concert. 'Blaise Wildrose'.

Did any of these people have copies of these posters at home? I couldn't help but think back to my own posters, those of powerful adventurers and fictional heroes I'd hung up back in Addersbrook. A pang of unwelcome melancholy came packaged with the thought. Should I look to get more posters, or maybe a painting for our room? It was our space for the foreseeable future, and we needed more decorations than a lone mannequin. It was a room we all shared, and one that we should all decorate together. It was ours, and I wanted it to feel that way.

While I could give or take a fascinating poster, what I really wanted was a bookshelf. That conversation with the Gnome, Gamechanger, had reminded me of what I could be missing. If I used a small metal plate, I could carry a book and turn the pages. In a place like Divastyr, there had to be some good reading material around. We'd even passed a Bookwyrm on our first proper walk through the streets! Maybe I could get some books for Streiphen, too. I didn't know how long we'd been... away... but I should ask Gamechanger for recommendations when I got back.

"I'll be back in a sec," Sigura spoke, stretching her legs before hopping to her feet. "You two wait here."

"Okay! We'll stay here, Miss Sigura," Streiphen responded, freeing his Recorder from his pocket. While he glanced around, I kept my eyes firmly on the Half Nekari now.

"[Where are you going?]" I asked her, weaving the [Telepathy] through the crowd she began to slip through.

She didn't whisper a response in the midst of the crowd, but she nodded forward, a gesture that was simple to read. She stepped forward, pushing open a pair of tall transparent doors to enter a building with a familiar symbol above it. It was a white circle surrounded by a thin green ring, one with a bright green plus sign in the center. A symbol of the Healer's Guild. It was a pharmacy.

Was Sigura feeling sick? She hadn't given any indication that she was, but I couldn't rule out the possibility. My concentration drifted to the windows lining the storefront for hints. All along the window were displays for glowing potions ranging from healing to 'stamina'. With them were salves for bruises and burns, even those afflicted by Slimes and magical flames. Medicine to treat the common cold sat alongside disinfectants, antibiotics and medicine for monster-related poisons and illnesses like Blightrot, too.

Near the doors themselves lay a small, colourful green box, a 'DIY Alchemist's Kit' for beginners. Would there be a DIY Tinkerer's Kit for sale anywhere? Even if it was only basic or for children, I was certain Streiphen would've been thrilled with such a gift.

Sigura emerged from the pharmacy without incident, no bag or medicine in hand. While Streiphen continued to snap pictures with his Recorder, I decided to check in with her.

"[Is everything alright?]"

Sigura responded with a fractional nod as she effortlessly wove through the crowd.

"Checking for the smell of Boost. If they were selling it, even under the table, I was going to fucking wreck the place."

I felt a shiver run through the full length of my body. While I couldn't argue that putting down any selling of Boost was the right decision... destroying a pharmacy while we were supposed to be keeping a low profile wasn't the way to go about it. She was still angry about the clothes shop.

"[If we find anything related to Boost, we should let the Don know first, Sigura,]" I told her, hoping I could talk her down with logic. "[Making a discovery like that would get us a bit further in the organisation's ranks.]"

The harder expression she wore didn't falter, but she gave me another nod.

I could only pray that I'd gotten through to her.