I mulled over the possibility by the fireplace the next morning on the single lounge chair that occupied the room. It was Sunday finally, and though almost everyone else had left for the Harvest market—Mark, Hank, and Aurora had promised they would stop by it when they left this morning—after a grueling week, I needed some rest.

Sinking back in the chair, I let myself drift off to the crackling of the fire. Everything seemed to fall in place if the stranger was telling the truth: Dave omitting my infancy, my magical aptitude—though it was more of a curse than a blessing. But everything had made sense before, perhaps with a few gaps in the explanations, but it could be easily dismissed as a simple coincidence.

I sighed, sat up in the chair, and stared into the swirling flames that slowly crept down the wood. I pushed myself off the chair, grabbed a few branches from the stack next to the fireplace, and tossed them in. The flames eagerly devoured the skinny branches as they flickered more wildly and uncontrollably, casting shadows on the walls that dwarfed themselves.

"Wallace!" Dave poked his head into the room. "You mind running to Vernon's for me? We're running a bit low on lamb."

I groaned, slumping back against the chair. "Right now?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Dave nodded solemnly and tossed me a few silvers. I stood up, albeit a bit reluctantly, leaving the comfort of my chair, and dragged myself out the front door. The cold, biting air slapped me in the face as I strode briskly down the cobbled streets, and I shoved my hands into my pockets, shielding them from the harsh outside.

The weather was still quite pleasant, though—the sun was out, and not a single cloud filled the sky—and I could understand why my fellow staff mates were willing to endure a little cold for some long-awaited fresh air.

Passing several shops and buildings of various sizes, I walked for a few minutes before meeting anyone. The Traveler's Inn was to my left when I crossed the street towards the market—maybe that was why it was running out of rooms so quickly—and immediately, not to my surprise, I was bombarded by merchants and peddlers from every direction.

"Apples! Ripe and juicy, get them now!" one called out. Another stuck a strangely shaped stone in my face, claiming it was an artifact of the ancient world. Swatting away their outstretched hands, I pushed through the never-ending sea of bodies, craning my neck to see if I had missed the butcher's shop.

"Hey, Wallace!" A hand clapped me on the shoulder and I whipped around, finding Benjamin looking at me with a toothy grin. "Have you checked out the sweets yet? Y'know, there's one mango flavored that I'm sure you'll like."

"I wish I could." I sighed disappointedly. "I need to run to Vernon's before I can actually enjoy today."

"Errands on Sunday?" He stared at me in disbelief, his eyebrows forming a hairy bridge above his eyes. "That's tough."

"You don't know half of it." I scanned the marketplace once again and finally spotted the familiar intersecting street signs. Vernon's was just around the corner.

"I guess I'll see you later then," I said as I wriggled through the crowd like a blob of slime. I thought I saw Benjamin wave goodbye to me, but it could have just been another hand out of a hundred.

I pinched my nose tightly as I stepped into the shop, the bloody, slightly metallic aroma from the meat burning my nostrils. A gray-haired man and a boy stood by the nearly empty produce area picking out meat, and one of the staff was organizing canned food with a flick of his wrist, the containers gracefully rising from the basket in his hand and landing gently on the shelf. 

The cans organized themselves in successful order, the pristine ones sitting on the lower shelves for easy access. The dented ones, a deep hole in their wounded souls, sulked on the tallest shelves as if discouraging customers to purchase the hideous counterpart.

Another worker was mopping up the grimy floor with what seemed to be a magic-infused mop—they probably possessed a capable connection to water like Alice.

The man, content with his choice—though there wasn't much to choose from—grabbed the boy in one hand and the last package of meat in the other, clutching it closely to his chest as if he were afraid someone would steal it from him. He cast me a wary look, and I averted my gaze, my eyes landing on the barren stands that now held nothing but dust.

"Wallace." Vernon's tired face lit up as he stepped out from the back, his apron stained with blood and scattered with bits of meat. "You don't know how many people I've had to deal with today. I mean, it is good for business." He chuckled at his joke. "Anyways, how can I help you?"

"Do you happen to have any more raw lamb?" I asked, motioning towards the stands. "There isn't a single shred left."

"Really?" He leaned over the counter, craning his neck to see over the counter "Huh. Like I said, business has been great!" His grin faded. "Well, not so great for you."

Vernon gave me a sad shrug, and I just sighed. I wasn't angry at him, just frustrated at the world throwing misfortune upon misfortune at me all the time. Couldn't I get a break for once?

"It's fine," I said, though the expression on my face told otherwise. "I'll stop by sometime next week.

I stepped out of the butcher's shop, a blast of cold air smacking me in the face, and took a look at my surroundings. The sun was still barely peeking over the buildings and shops, so I still had a good part of my day to enjoy—and some of those mango sweets Benjamin mentioned. But first, I had to return the silvers to Dave, assuming he would take them even after I'd come back empty-handed. I let out another sigh (I was doing this quite frequently) and weaved through the endless crowd of people who shoved and pushed with only their means in mind.

I craned my neck to get a bearing—and a gasp of air—and spotted the food market. It wasn't hard to locate the sweets stand as people of all ages bombarded the poor salesman with requests, all just to satisfy their sweet tooth. The salesman gave a loud bark, and the crowd dispersed slightly, giving me a better view of the stand. Bits of wrappers and crushed candy littered the pavement around the stand and only a few bins of sweets remained—including the mango ones.

I needed them. I could almost taste the tart, slightly sour fruit on the tip of my tongue, tickling my taste buds as I rolled it around in my mouth. But I couldn't; I had nothing to pay for it. Unless I wanted a week of dishwashing duty all for myself.

Looks like I'm going to have to go back anyway. I just hoped that when I came back I wasn't going home empty-handed again.

The Cozy Corner was a few blocks away from here, which wouldn't be that far under normal circumstances. Now it wouldn't be much of a stroll; it would be like sailing a boat against the wind.

Waves of people rolled and crashed against the pavement and heads bobbed up and down like a school of fish leaping out of the water. My little boat wouldn't stand a chance so I decided to adjust the sail to go with the wind. It would take slightly longer, but after getting out of rough seas, I would be in the clear.

I passed an assortment of stands and street carts, bursting with color and every size imaginable, before reaching a less congested street. People were headed towards the market, which was behind me now and I gladly filled my lungs with some fresh air—not the hot breath of someone beside me.

A quick glance at the street signs told me I was in the suburban part of Arborad. The streets were lined with small, but beautiful houses that had little gardens in the front, and in the distance was the striking redwood forest one could spend hours gazing at. Between the houses were trees scattered across the grass; the forest would have separated Arborad from the neighboring towns in the South (travel through the North was possible but tedious and inconvenient) if not for the years of clearing a path done by the town's past people. Besides the select path that was made accessible to the public, several others had forged their own trails, but travel through those trails was often accompanied by dangerous creatures and other mysteries lurking in the undergrowth.

I took a few more moments to admire the landscape before turning around to head back home. I ambled along the road adjacent to the Harvest market, which was less crowded, but some vendors hadn't been lucky enough to find a spot on the main street and settled for a less optimal spot. They pestered me with their strange items, some yelling in foreign languages, and I glanced at their carts. The shoddy, patchwork of a cart was filled to the brim; they hadn't sold anything.

I started to pick up my pace, and a young boy, his face plastered with dough, looked at me curiously. He wasn't begging, but I felt compelled to fish a silver out of my pocket and toss it to him.

"Here." The boy stared at me in surprise and then fumbled with the coin as it fell into his hands. "A loaf of bread, please."

He frantically nodded and after inspecting the loaves, picked out the finest bread and handed it to me gracefully. He spoke with nods and shakes, and I suspected that he was still yet to learn how to speak, but to be able to handle a cart on his own, was certainly impressive.

I thanked the boy one last time and he bowed in response, picking up the coin to show the other vendors. They all stared at him in amazement and one muttered, "Children will always be a mystery to me."

I chuckled and passed a few more blocks before spotting a dead end in the distance. Looks like I can't avoid the market forever. I retraced my steps until reaching a turn in the road, squeezing past a crowd of people, some of whom also wished to get some breath of fresh air.

The air in the market was thick, not because of the weather, but simply because of the sheer amount of people. I had a few more blocks before reaching home and after confirming I was going in the right direction, headed on the arduous journey.

"Hey! Watch where you're going." A slim figure shot me a glare and shoved me, sending me and another man falling like dominos. The man wore a dark robe and most of his face, besides an eye that peeked out, was concealed behind his long bangs.

"Oh, sorry," I scrambled to apologize as the man didn't look like someone who I would've wanted to get in a fight with. I stood up, looking nervously at the growing crowd around me. I was in no need of attention so I quickly left the scene, I tried to at least. People were pushing and shoving, someone was yelling in my ear, and I was like a little boat once again. I decided to change my tactics. I became the ocean, pushing and shoving, and I finally broke through to a lesser patch of people.

"Stop!" I whipped my head around to the sound and spotted the man I had knocked down running after me. "Stop!

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and I picked up my pace, only to find myself being pushed backward by a group of adventurers visiting the market. The distance between the man and I was closing and my efforts to run were in vain. The waves of people crashed against me and the currents aligned to send my little boat closer and closer.

Suddenly, a grimy hand grabbed me by the shoulder and I cringed at the hot breath of the man next to my ear. "I've got you now."