Here I am, back at the market.

It's so noisy.

I keep my shoulders tight, trying to dodge the hordes of people. Everyone is everywhere; In the corner, coming straight at me and blitzing through the air, all at once. The mud yanks at my boots. The motion threatens to rip my ankles from their sockets, my boots and socks following. Every once in awhile, I can spot malicious faces in the footprints. Faces with jagged teeth, strewn noses, or just eyes with death in the irises.

The incessant rain and clamoring lightning isn't exactly helping.

"Fresh fish, get your damned fish!"

I look over at the yelling, noticing the silvery glint of a knife. He doesn't surrender his chant. Instead, while he keeps screeching, he brings his weapon down on the head of a salmon.

Chop!Chop!Chop!

I gulp. My feet stammer like the words of the nervous, desperate to escape. When did my world go so violent? When had the blood fallen, staining my vision red? I shake my head. Thinking like this is going to get me nowhere. I just need to focus on getting some more food and getting home. With a short sigh, I tighten my hood and keep moving. I already have vegetables, some dried meats . . . Just need some fish.

Fish.

Lately, it's tasted worse than usual. Flaky, dry, despite the rainy weather. The bites would be too salty to swallow. To put it lightly, it's gross. Just gross. No matter where I bought it from. And it's not just me; Vivvy wasn't eating a lot of it either.

"Fresh fish!"

I don't look this next man in the eye. He attempts conversation, I think. I just throw some money on the table, hold my nose and wait for him to package it up. I cross my arms and kneel against the stand. The sky feels darker. Rain drips off my cloak rhythmically, singing to some unseen melody.

Drip, drip, drip . . .

"How much would you, eh, like?"

"However much that gets me."

He mumbles something under his breath in a tone I don't like. There's a muffled crinkle of paper as he wraps it up. I tap my foot, watching the rain drizzle into the mud. Puddles form in the crevasses of footsteps, spilling over and combining, creating lakes. The kind small children like to run through. I snort and grab the bag, shoving it into my basket.

"Thanks."

"Your projects late."

Hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I turn hesitantly, swinging my basket to my side. Samuel

"Are you following me now?"

He snorts.

"I need to eat too," he says. "I don't run on spare parts and gasoline, contrary to popular belief. This isn't your market; I buy here too."

Words of wisdom.

"I guess so."

He doesn't say anything, lips pursed tightly. This is going nowhere. I turn to leave.

"Wait, Micha."

"What?"

"I heard about, well, I know this is hard for you. Can't blame you for slacking, but you need to start coming to class. It's hard to get out of a hole that you keep digging deeper and deeper."

"I did come to class today."

"I don't just mean individual studies," he says, ruffling his thin hair. "Your other classes matter too; Logic, history, rhetoric, whatever other useless skills they teach."

"Why do I need to learn useless skills?"

"Not my point, kid. Look, I know how these feelings feel. It sucks. If you don't distract yourself enough, you'll fall into an abyss that you're never going to get out of. Got it? Don't make the same mistake I did; Go to class. Talk to people. Let your friends back in. Heck, get a girlfriend!"

I know how these feelings feel . . .

The rain suddenly stops. I throw my hood back, feeling the drops seep into the back of my shirt. What's he talking about? I raise an eyebrow. All I want to do is stay inside, sleep, and sleep some more. Unconsciousness is my new best friend.

"Can't promise that," I say. "All I've wanted for so long is a dragon, and now she's dead. I can't just pretend like everything's alright. Things are not alright-"

"Brood all you want to, but you're going to have to find something to distract yourself, sooner or later. What about that trip the girls were talking about? Going to find a necromancer, or whatever. It's not a half-bad idea."

I scoff. He rolls his eyes, pulling a green flask up to his lips. I can smell the weighty scent even from here. Red wine.

"If I'm going to go through the trouble, it would just be easier to build a dragon at that point-"

I gasp and the whole world stops. All I can hear is my heartbeat as it thumps against my ribcage. Thump, thump, thump. There's a buzzing in my fingertips. It hits strong, stronger than it ever has before. My knees begin to shake. I smile.

Build a dragon, why not?

"I gotta go."

I turn, pushing the fish deeper into the basket. A crack of sunshine leaks from the clouds, squinting its way into my eyes. I've never run faster in my life.