This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

At the same time…

12-year-old Patty's family has run one of the largest spiritual plant farms within Dark Moon City for generations.

They weren't affiliated with the College and were responsible for providing the spiritual plants that the local restaurateur and bar owners used in their foods and beverages.

She sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor of her room, her fingers tracing the carvings she had scarred the floor with over the years. All of which looked like vague outlines of animals.

Her room, with its simple furnishings and faded wallpaper, was decorated with posters of famous figures from the past College National Competitions and sketches of spiritual creatures next to a young girl that looked a lot like her—a gray-eyed brunette with freckles.

Despite her room's humble appearance, it was her sanctuary, a place where her imagination could run wild, even if reality seemed far more restrained.

Like most civilians, she was stuck locked away at home for her own safety since the beast-tide began. The only thing she had to look at being the sprawling fields of spiritual plants that her family had tended to for generations.

When the wards surrounding the city had initially activated it had shut down all the residents' access to even receive radio and tv signals from elsewhere in the empire, so she really had nothing else to relieve her boredom with the past few days except for her imagination— and wild it ran.

Despite being from a long line of farmers, Patty knew from a young age that she wanted to become a powerful beast-tamer.

However, given that beast-tamer affinities are usually hereditary and her family mostly consists of ordinary people, and the odd time someone in her family did awaken an affinity it didn't change their trajectory in life much since they were usually of D-rank or lower, Patty's dreams of becoming a powerful beast-tamer that competed at the College National Competition felt as distant as the stars.

Her parents, practical and rooted in reality, had made it clear from an early age that their family's legacy lay in cultivating spiritual plants, not in the wild pursuits of beast-taming.

Therefore, the closest Patty could ever come to her dreams, were the stories she'd make up. Stories starring her going on grand adventures alongside powerful spiritual beast companions. However, she'd tell these stories to others as though they had actually happened.

Put nicely, she was a genius storyteller, or at least that's how she always referred to herself. Put not so nicely, she was a liar, which is how most of those around her referred to her as.

Therefore, with her fantasies highly discouraged by her family, Patty had taken to putting her stories in drawings and text, rather than sharing them with those around her as much recently.

Locked away in her room, Patty felt a sense of growing restlessness. The confinement was starting to wear on her nerves. She would often sit by the window, watching the fields and letting her imagination run wild. But today, as she gazed out at the familiar expanse, she noticed something alarming.

A portion of the field seemed to be...disappearing. It was a small patch at first, but as she squinted, the area seemed to expand, swallowing all the plants in its vicinity.

Her heart raced. Patty rubbed her eyes, thinking it must be a trick of the light or perhaps the result of too much time spent indoors. But no matter how many times she blinked, the empty space remained, growing larger each second.

"Mom?" Patty called hesitantly, her voice tinged with anxiety. When there was no immediate response, she got up and made her way downstairs, her mind racing with confusion and fear. She found her parents in the kitchen, where the comforting aroma of hearty, homecooked food did little to ease her nerves.

"Mom! Something strange is happening outside!" Patty's voice was urgent, but her mom's expression was one of immediate skepticism.

Her mom, a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties, had a steadfast demeanour suited for their line of work. Her brown hair, tied back in a practical bun, was streaked with gray, a testament to the hard years spent under the sun and amid the dirt of the fields. Her eyes, a steely gray, could pierce through any bullshit, and her voice had a commanding quality that left little room for argument.

"What are you going on about now, Patty?" Her mom asked, her voice edged with impatience. "Another one of your stories?"

"This isn't a story!" Patty insisted, her eyes wide. "I saw it with my own eyes. The plants—they're disappearing! There's a gap in the field that keeps getting bigger."

Her mom's eyes narrowed. "How would anyone even get into the field during a beast-tide? We have wards in place, and there's no way anything can get past them. Besides, we're in the westernmost part of the city, far from the areas at the greatest risk of a breach."

Patty's shoulders sagged at her mother's words and the fact that she wasn't believed. However, it was hard to argue with her mother's reasoning.

The wards surrounding the field would immediately alert them if something entered the fields. It'd need to be a spiritual creature at yellow-grade or higher to get through undetected. And why would a creature at that level visit their farm? While they grew spiritual plants, most of them were orange-grade and lower, nothing rare or strong enough to draw it in.

Perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks on her due to boredom. Exhausted and disheartened, Patty nodded and turned away, heading back to her room.

The quiet of her room was a stark contrast to the turmoil she felt inside. She lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess. Had she really seen what she thought she had? Or was it simply a figment of her over-active imagination born from too much time alone?

Patty's eyelids grew heavy as fatigue set in. She'd had to receive a tongue lashing from her mother for over an hour for daring to spin more "lies." She could really use a nap.

She closed her eyes, trying to push away the unease that clung to her. But if she had looked out her bedroom window one more time, she would have seen a more disturbing sight: the once green and vibrant fields now only consisted of acres of churned mud.

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