I sit on a bench in the middle of town, looking out into the sunrise, as much as I can anyway, feeling the warmth of dawn covering my skin. Sighing,I listen to the morning set up of shops, people shout, feet moving quickly with heavy boxes of fruits and vegetables, juicy meats from all sorts of creatures being fried fresh for their hungry patrons that are soon to come. I lean my head back and look toward the sky letting out a deep sigh and looking at the person sitting next to me. The moment my eyes land on her she begins to fidget, like she wants to ask something but isn't sure if she should. After a minute she takes a deep breath and asks the dreaded question.

  “Are you okay?” She says.

  I sigh again, knowing she would. It seemed to be the entire reason she came over here five minutes ago. Seeing a boy with a distraught face sitting alone on a bench, gazing into the distance

  She's clearly a foreigner, the way her head swiveled as she walked to the streets, her cheerful voice whenever she asked about something being sold. But the moment she looked at me she walked over and sat down.

  “Are you actually interested in hearing me out, or are you just being nice?” I respond, not changing my face in the slightest from how it was when she arrived.

  “I genuinely want to know. It might be easier to talk to someone when you don't ever have to see them again. So tell me. If you'd like, that is.” She's resolute in her words. I can almost hear the smile on her face. She knows exactly what she's saying. She's so confident in her words, it almost makes me mad, because I understand exactly what she's trying to do. And it's even more infuriating because it's working.

  “Fine,” I reply, “but you can't leave when you get tired of listening. This is your last chance to go.”

  “I won't” she says. Her voice is so kind and gentle. Her words are something I've wanted to hear for years, but was never afforded, and yet she speaks them so easily, without a hint of malice. After a deep breath, I speak.

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  “I'm ready for my first class evolution, but it feels wrong. I like my class, my job. The people are all nice. They help me. But it feels wrong. As if im not leaving the impact I want to. And whenever I indulged in thoughts of what I wanted to be, I was always told it wasn't possible. That I couldn't do it. I know everyone expects me to just evolve my class and live with it, but I can't bring myself to do it.”

  She sits for a minute, hand on her chin, before asking, “Would you like my advice, or would you rather I just listen?”

  “Say what you will. I doubt it will help.”

  She perks up instantly and says without hesitation, “Do what you want. Is your life worth living if living is a chore?”

  I sit back, dumbfounded from what I've just heard.

  “What do you want to do?” She asks.

  I take a deep breath, before nervously speaking.

  “I want to be a Hunter. It has been my dream my whole life.”

  “Then do it,” she says, as if the choice is the most obvious thing.

  “But I can't-”

  “Says who,” she cuts me off. “Do you think you can?”

  “Yes,” I respond, timidly.

  “Then do it” she answers.

  I gaze at her then look to the sky again and think. After a few minutes I sigh and look back at her.

  “Are you sure I can do it? What about what others think of me. What if my family abandons me?” My voice slowly growing hoarse from the thought of being alone.

  “Then you have to decide if it's worth it to you. I believe in you, though. I'm sure you can do it.”

  We sit a while longer in a comfortable silence as I hold back tears. After a few moments, I stand up and turn to her, my hand outstretched.

  “It seems I was wrong. I am in your debt today, miss…”

  “Xandra” she replies happily, as she grabs my hand.

  “Miss Xandra. If we ever meet again, call for me, and I will be at your service.”

  “I hope I can take you up on that offer.” She says as she stands up. “There is a caravan that is leaving in two days heading west to Craven Hill. If you wish to start your journey, that'd be a good place to start, mister..”

  “Roy” I finish. “Just Roy is fine.”

  “Then Roy. Use my name and they will let you join,” she states before turning around. “Have a good adventure, bat boy,” she giggles playfully. “And may you meet many new people on your way.”

  “Thank You.” I say, as I get up, and turn toward my job, walking to it for the last time.