" And we all accept the fates we earn?” he said.
“What kind of a question is that? You sound like some kind of Ogran mystic.” She rolled her eyes, which told him how she felt about Ogran mystics.
“Or like my mom,” he said. “The oracle. Maybe I’m turning into her.”
“Ah, we all become our parents, eventually,” Zenka said, stabbing the fruit again. “What do you want, Thuvhe?”
“I want a space to brew a painkiller,” he said. “And…access to ingredients.”
“Do you also want the moon in a jar?”
“Does Ogra have a moon?”
“Yes, and it’s almost small enough to put in a jar, to be honest. "

― Veronica Roth , The Fates Divide (Carve the Mark, #2)