Eight pouches. One is yours.

How to choose

Every pouch on this tray looks the same on purpose. The stones inside are mirrors, not medicine — each one tends to reflect a different way of giving, guarding, mending, or staying. Because you can't see them, your reasons have nothing to grip, and the choice falls to the quieter part of you that picks a seat on a train or a mug from the shelf without a committee meeting.

The tray is shuffled fresh every time it is laid — nothing about your visit, your question, or your last pull decides what sits where. If you came back an hour from now, the same pouch would hold a different stone. So there is no system to beat and nothing to get right. Let your eye drift across the silk, notice where it returns, and tap once. The silk does the rest.