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As more time had past, the dragon tooth that Fesha had received began to show more obvious signs of its effects. Another dream had come to me tonight, this one more impactful from the last. I was in front of a small, tan, two story house. The yard was a little unkempt with small yellow flowers growing in the grass. Some vines crept up the skinny walls. The front door was dark brown and the windows allowed for a quick view inside. I felt oddly attached to this house. I burst through the door and stopped dead in my tracks. The inside looked a bit messy, but it was clean nonetheless. My face felt warm, flushed like I had done something embarrassing. I realized that tears were rolling down my face along with sweat. From where I stood, I had a view of the kitchen and someone was there cooking something. The woman turned to me and smiled, which shifted to a look of concern.

"Hey, what's wrong." Her voice comforted me.

She came walking toward me, slowly accelerating as she rounded the corner of the counter. Suddenly, I found myself in her warm embrace, the stress of whatever was going on with me had been lifted, even just a little bit. She let go of me and I stared into my mother's deep brown eyes. She stared back at me, the glisten in her eye signifying her worry for me. She placed her hand on my shoulder and spoke.

"Please tell me what's wrong. I'll hear you out." Mother said.

I focused on the concern on her face, realizing that maybe I should have been just as concerned. There were heavy bags under her eyes, like she had stayed up for nights on end. Her skin seemed a little dry and a bit of her hair was gray against the black strands. I tried to speak, but began to sob uncontrollably. I had no idea why, but I felt a strong sense of guilt, the type of guilt you would feel after doing something nearly unforgivable.

I continued to sob, my mother trying to comfort me. Finally through the tears, I began to tell her what I had done. Perhaps I needed more time with the dragon tooth; the speech that came from my mouth was nothing but a garbled mess in my dream, indecipherable to anyone who would have heard it. However, there was one phrase I could hear clear as day, a phrase that stuck with me even after I woke up.

"H-he fell. He's by the river and he fell." I said.

Though I had no idea who I was talking about or what had happened, an emptiness had opened in my stomach. Suddenly, my mother took me into a tight embrace. She squeezed me hard and I felt her tears begin to soak into my shirt.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay! We'll... we'll get through this." She said frantically. Her hand began to stroke the back of my head. "I'll talk with them." She said trying to reassure me.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. The knock was aggressive, but as time went on, it only grew louder and more violent. I felt scared in the moment, clutching onto the apron my mother had been wearing. She pushed me away and held onto my shoulders. She looked straight into my eyes and tried to calm me down.

"Sorry, I know you're scared. Just go upstairs, I'll take this for now, but promise me that one day you'll be strong enough to talk to them yourself okay?" She said.

She let go of my shoulders and I bolted upstairs. My bare feet pounded against the hardwood steps, each one feeling heavier and more agonizing than the last. I made it to my bedroom door and swung it open quickly. Through my tears and whimpering, I slammed the door shut and locked it. The knocking reverberated through the house until I heard the door downstairs open and a fury of yelling soon after. My mother's and whoever was at the door's voices were indistinguishable from each other, that or maybe it was only the other party yelling. The yelling grew louder and louder to the point that a storm brewing downstairs. I could not make out a single word but there was much anger in the voices. Suddenly, loud thuds followed by shattering traveled the hallways and into my ears. It sounded like the whole living room was being whipped around in a frenzy.

I tried to cover my ears as tears continued to roll down my face, but I felt my room begin to move beneath my feet. The thuds got louder as they closed in on me, until whoever it was was waiting in front of my bedroom door. The violent knocking that was previously at the front door was now just across from me on my own door. I heard more hard footsteps follow up the stairs, the sound of my mother's voice closing in. The fighting was now just beyond my door. I tried to shut it out, but it was impossible. The sounds of slamming and thrashing against the walls began to ensue, until there was a quick succession of loud thudding against the hardwood. After that, there was finally an instance of silence after the storm had passed through. Someone whose voice was not my mother's spoke from outside my room, the words blocked by my door. Then the sound of fast footsteps bolted down the stairs and there was a lingering silence once again. I had not even heard the front door close. Finally, with shaky legs, I found the courage to open my door. As I grabbed the handle and pulled down, I felt a jolt.

I awoke, staring at a high ceiling with black vines. I was in a cold-sweat and the inside of my mouth felt dry. I sat up swiftly and looked around. Fesha had already gotten up and was preparing her things.

"Art thou well?" She asked.

I looked back at her, holding in the urge to cry. "Yeah, just a bad dream." I muttered.