“It's not that far from here. See those windows? They're pointed towards the internal field of the prison. That's where the facility is.”

  As they walked through the hallways of the common washrooms, Ayn spoke out, pointing to the small windows located in each room. Arthur nodded, trying to visualize the map of the structure in his mind.

  He studied architecture for some time, and had a pretty good sense of direction, so figuring out how the prison was built wasn't too hard.

  After getting out of their cells, they had walked straight down a corridor, turned right at the end, and entered the long room which contained the washrooms.

  After walking some more, they reached the large mess hall, square or rectangular in shape. If the room they came from was in the south, then, on the eastern side of the mess hall was the kitchen.

  And beyond that, probably distanced by some walls, were the holding cells. On the western side of the mess hall was a large wall, with a heavily secured door.

  That was probably where the guards and officers entered the holding complex, then.

  And right now, looking at the windows on the walls, it meant that the facility they were headed towards was in the western side of the prison, opposite of the cells.

  They had passed some iron doors on the way, each guarded by at least one officer, with various prisoners coming and going. He guessed those led to other working facilities.

  “We're here,” Ayn spoke out. They had arrived at the corner which connected the holding cells with the washroom hallway.

  Approaching a guard in front of a metal door, he produced something from his pockets, some sort of slip of paper, before pointing at Arthur and explaining he had just woken up from a coma of sorts.

  The guard nodded, taking a key out of a keychain and opening the door, letting them through without any issue. Despite his job, he seemed quite relaxed and easygoing with the prisoners.

  Ayn pushed the door open, and a number of bright lights and weird smells assaulted Arthur's numb senses.

  The room which opened up in front of him was large, it must have been at least a quarter of the corridor's length, and some more than that in width.

  There was little space to walk after entering, and much more space to sit down and work. Four rows of long, large tables and equally long planks occupied much of the space inside.

  Small, gemstones powered lamps lit up each table, spaced evenly between one another. Various weirdly shaped utensils were tied to the tables, at each workstation.

  The bright light came from not only the lamps, but also as a result of the work which underwent there. He could see someone in one of the corners of the room handling what seemed like a welding flame, sparks of blue flames ensuing with each use.

  A whole row of tables was filled with prisoners working on small, rough crystals, coloured amber. Each time one was struck by the peculiar utensils, a flash of light followed suit.

  In another row, he could see ice forming on the wood, some of the workers there shivering in the breath chilling temperature. With each strike, the frost spread slightly on the surface of the table, before melting.

  From the far side of the room, smells like melted metal, sulfur, and flammable gas spread to the entrance. The workers there seemed to be handling much more varied items than just Moonstones.

  There was only one singled out table, not connected to any of the long rows. Someone was working there, with a welding utensil in hand, and various gemstones scattered on the table.

  They seemed to be completely focused on their work. Arthur wondered what they were planning on making, there was clearly more material than just the gemstones on that table, and the gemstones seemed already refined, too.

  Though he didn't quite know what the process of refining a gemstone entailed, his eyes could differentiate between a Moonstone and a gemstone. Maybe it was some sort of muscle memory, some sort of pattern recognition.

  He turned towards Ayn and asked, “So, what do we do here, exactly?”

  “Do you want the long explanation or the short explanation? In short, we work on Moonstones. The long explanation is, we're given rough Moonstones, sent over here by Haegllfeld. There are various steps to the refinement, some analyze and select the usable parts, differentiate which Moonstones are better or worse Ark conductors, and send them forward. Then, those parts are carved out with a runic knife, according to specific directions.

  “After the usable gemstone is carved out of the stone, a runic scalpel is used to give it the required shape, as well as engrain the required circuits. The easiest job is probably carving the gemstone out of the stone, but since the pay is the same across all three positions, you can do whatever you want.

  “Ah, but, if you want to sculpt the gemstone rather than carve it, you need to know how to utilize Ark, at the very least. Do you know how? Maybe there's still some leftover memories in that brain? Oh, and if you want to act as an evaluator instead, that's a mostly instinctual job. As in, you need talent to be able to tell the differences between each Moonstone. You can try, though.”

  Arthur nodded slowly, taking in the information. He was expecting that body's memories to help him out, but nothing came to mind. With a sigh, he watched as Ayn headed to his station.

  Without knowledge of how to use Ark, or the talent to evaluate Moonstones, he'd be forced to work as a stone carver. Reluctantly, he headed towards a free spot on the plank, sitting down beside two workers.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The gemstone lamp in front of him wasn't lit. After trying to turn it on by tapping it a few times, to no avail, he asked the one beside him to light it for him, quickly resulting in a strong light.

  Despite seeing every other worker carving the stones they had collected, Arthur had no idea where he was supposed to take Moonstones from.

  Hiss!

  With nearly perfect timing, the sound of steam blowing out resonated throughout the room. He could see small puffs of steam coming out from the table's surface, at the very middle.

  The sound of mechanical gears turning and scraping against each other followed quickly after, with even louder volume.

  He had noticed something, when he first entered the room. Running across the tables, from the far end of the room to the closer end, were streaks of black, metallic material.

  Initially, he thought they were some kind of surface to work on the gemstones, but now his doubts were cleared, as the black scales started moving in a domino-like pattern.

  ‘It’s a conveyor belt! A conveyor belt, in the medieval ages!’

  Although he wasn't sure how much this world, or this empire, had developed, seeing a conveyor belt clashed much with Arthur's perception of that world so far.

  The figure on the far end of the room, which he could not see properly earlier, was now busy pulling levers and twisting valves, perhaps operating the conveyor belt system.

  The ones which were tasked with evaluating the Moonstones hurriedly took up their tools. Examining the stones with a magnifying glass, before marking certain spots and parts with glowing energy.

  Right after, they divided the Moonstones into two baskets. The marked ones were put in a basket opposite to their station, while the unmarked ones to a basket beside them.

  And with the twist of a valve, the conveyor belts activated, bringing the baskets of evaluated Moonstones to the carvers and sculptors, stopping at each workstation briefly.

  Arthur caught on quickly. Each station, and thus each worker, needed to twist the valve in front of them after picking up their needed Moonstones. Then, they could put the evaluated, sculpted or carved stones into the next basket, to keep the production going.

  The basket eventually stopped in front of his own station. Picking up a few stones, like he saw the other sculptors do, he positioned them in front of him in the small area of the table, before twisting the valve.

  Or rather, trying to twist the valve. For some reason, it was extremely rigid, and hard to turn. Was it rusted? Maybe he had picked a spot which no one had used in years, and that valve wasn't oiled properly.

  He tried twisting it once again with a grunt, to no avail. Only then did it hit him, that system most likely relied on Ark, too. If he couldn't even use a faucet, there was no way he'd be able to operate a conveyor belt.

  Luckily, the one next to him reached out, twisting the valve and keeping the chain going. Arthur looked down at his Moonstones, slightly embarrassed. He was holding up the line so much that someone else needed to step in.

  Though, as if to reassure him, a hand patted him on the shoulder.

  “Ya can't use Ark, right? If ya need a hand, for yer lamp, or yer valve, give me a shout!” A feminine voice rang out, offering Arthur a grin. He looked up, watching the figure sitting next to him, who had been previously wearing a hood, revealing her face.

  “Oh, uh, thanks, sure.” He muttered, before shifting his focus back to the tools on the table. She seemed young, maybe around that body's age. But more than that, the look on her face, like that of a child who had just made a friend.

  Arthur felt slightly uneasy, seeing her. It was slowly setting in, the realization that he really was trapped in a prison, where even children got cast.

  He sighed. There wasn't much he could do, anyways, and the living situation there seemed decent enough, as far as he had seen. The fact that they got paid for working was already a step-up from what he imagined prison would be.

  Not to mention, the food was pretty good, they had some free time every day, which would come right after working hours, and the prisoners, save exceptions, could sleep for eight hours a day. From ten in the evening to six in the morning. Ayn had told him that.

  The more he thought about it, the less he thought this was a bad place to stay in for a while. Of course, only for a while. They'd probably be released eventually.

  His hand rose up to his face, covering his mouth. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know why exactly Ayn and that body had been thrown into prison. What if it was some crime that would keep them there for life?He sighed, before glancing at his sides. No use worrying about it now. What he could do, instead, was trying to figure out how to do his job as a Moonstone carver.

  The amber coloured light of the gemstone lamp bounced off of the stone's surface. It was opaque, slightly transparent, as he expected of a gem. He could see his own reflection, in the gem's formations.

  Picking it up and feeling its shape with his fingers, he quickly found various cuts in the gem's surface. Most likely, cuts made by the evaluators to guide the sculptors' blades.

  Tracing over the incisions with his fingers while glancing at the other workers, Arthur picked up the bladed tool. This gem was to be cut in an hexagonal shape, with hard edges.

  However, the directions shown on the gem were sloppy at best. Even Arthur could tell that. Which was why, he wasn't sure how exactly he understood how to cut it. It was as if his instinct was guiding him.

  ‘Maybe I'm more fit as an evaluator after all,’ Arthur chuckled to himself, while chopping off the unneeded extremities of the gemstone. He started to notice patterns, details in the stone.

  It wasn't instinct guiding him, it was his sight. He didn't know how he'd explain it to someone else, if he had to, but in his vision, dark and bright spots appeared.

  Whenever he cut off a part of the gem with a dark spot in it, the brightness would inversely increase, making it more transparent.

  As if he was peeling a vegetable, he handled the gemstone and blade skillfully, a hexagonal gemstone eventually residing in his hand. On the table in front of him, chunks of gem material resided.

  He brought the gemstone up to his eyes, looking at it carefully. Now that it was as transparent as possible, a bright spot, at the very center of the jewel, revealed itself to the boy's eyes.

  Almost spherical at its core, it spread out in all directions, tongues of light lashing out at the gem's exterior. No, rather than in all directions, it reminded him of a plasma globe.

  The bright strings reached out towards his fingers, as they held the gemstone. Arthur chuckled, and putting down the bladed utensil, tapped on the gem's surface with his free hand.

  At that moment, something peculiar happened. As if the gemstone had turned into a water surface, and his finger had dipped into it, a ripple spread through the reflections of the jewel, the light propagating.

  The gem started shaking unstably, the light turning into energy, cracking the surface with loud snaps. Arthur swallowed, he was pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen. He turned towards the girl beside him.

  “Is this, er, normal?” She turned towards him. “What's up?”Her expression soon turned into a surprised one. Her hand bolted towards Arthur's own, snatching the gem from his hold, but not quickly enough. The light reached its peak brightness.

  And in an instant, a powerful explosion knocked the boy out of his seat, knocking him out cold. A myriad of gemstone shards were stuck in his skin, fragments shot out due to the blast.

  The girl had managed to shield her face, although some fragments could be seen on her arms. She bent down to check his condition, before shouting towards the far end of the room.

  “CALL THE MEDICAL TEAM!”