People are yelling. Two people. A man and a woman. Their voices are familiar. Who are they? Why are they yelling? Stop. Stop yelling! It's hurting my ears. The woman is crying. The man hit her. She's holding the left side of her face and sitting on the floor, screaming at him. The man turns to me. Let go of my arm. Don't look at me like that. Why are you drawing your dagger? I don't understand. He cut me. My hand is bleeding, but he's looking at the woman on the floor. I glare at him. Then, an explosion. Fire, everywhere. It's warm and welcoming and beautiful. When it's cool again, the man is gone. It smells awful now, but he's gone. The woman is whimpering in the corner. I look down at my hands and they're coated in blood. The blood isn't mine.

I awaken the next morning to the smell of sweet rolls being baked below. The aroma draws me out of bed, but it takes everything in my power to actually wake up. That was the first full night's sleep I've had in three days. But that dream…it wont stop haunting me. My body is stiff and my head is heavy, and the sheets are drenched in sweat. I must have slept like a rock, or maybe I just drank a little too much mead. I find my robe and hood and pull them on, then retrieve my knapsack from the corner and head downstairs. The female Argonian offers me some breakfast. I politely decline, saying that I have things to take care of.

As I step outside, I look up at the sky, and realize thatI don't know what time it is. Father told me once that if you're looking up to the sky, a thumb's length counts for an hour. Follow the sun with your thumb, and you'll be able to tell what time it is. I climb the stairs to the top of the inn and stand on the balcony. From the horizon to the sun is nine thumb lengths meaning it's nine in the morning. Damn. I must have slept almost twelve hours. No wonder I'm sore. I turn my head and catch sight of the market. I see the smithy, the general goods store, the butcher, and Brynjolf.

He's standing tall. Confidently, with shoulders back and a lazy, arrogant smile on his face. You wouldn't be able to tell he's a thief unless you talked to him. He's buying a loaf of bread, paying for it honestly. How odd. He's a thief, why wouldn't he just steal it? I keep my eyes on him and study his movements. He looks off to the side and bends down, beckoning the shopkeeper to join him. He seems to be looking for something. Then he stands back up before the shopkeeper does, and swipes his septims back off of the stand before anyone sees. He then converses with the shopkeep a bit more, and goes on his merry way. What a sneak. I smirk to myself and head back down the stairs, starting in the direction of the market.

It's a lot busier once you're actually in the square. People are brushing past me, running into me, laughing and drinking already, so early in the day. I look for Brynjolf, but I can't see him. I can't see anything with all these people everywhere. Another person knocks into me, then swears at me for running into him. I turn and glare at him. What an ass. I didn't do a damn thing; I was standing here the entire time! It's not my fault if some drunk decides to just wander around and ram into people. I ought to teach him a lesson. I feel my hands warm. I feel the sun on my face, the heat coursing through my body. I feel the flicker of flame in my palm and I turn to the man, ready to set him aflame. That will teach him.

Someone catches my arm. I get pulled off to the side and I stumble a bit, forgetting about my anger just long enough to stand up straight. I look around at the person who grabbed me. It's Brynjolf.

"I'm glad you're here, lass. Are you ready?"

I look around again for the man who bumped into me, then shake my head. It doesn't matter. He'll get what's coming to him.

"Are you alright?"

I turn to look at Brynjolf and he's staring me down. He's got an expression of stern caution and wariness, but also a bit of concern. He releases my arm and I nod. He then nods and pulls me further away from the crowd. We're standing behind a fruit stand and he holds onto my shoulders, centering me.

"Alright. There's Madesi's stand right over there. You're gonna need to pick the lock to get into the lockbox."

I widen my eyes at him. "What? I…I don't know the first thing about lockpicking! I don't even have a lockpick." I feel my palms start to sweat.

He smirks at me and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a lockpick. "You've got a knife, right?"

I nod at him and he looks around for a second. We bend behind the fruit stand and I spot a lockbox behind a crate of fruit. He pulls it out and motions for me to try to pick the lock. I look at him, dumbfounded.

He laughs at me. "Here, let me show you."

He puts the lockpick in my right hand and the knife in my left. He takes hold of my hands and goes through the motions of picking the lock. Insert the lockpick, find the right angle and then insert the knife, then give the lock a little jiggle. If it goes, you're in the right spot. If not, adjust the lockpick. After a minute or two, he releases my hands and I'm doing it myself. Then, the lock opens and I'm in. I open the lockbox and spot a few septims, a chunk of silver ore and a small, shiny, amethyst stone. Brynjolf motions for me to take what I want, and I take the septims out of the box, then shut and lock it again.

"Well done, lass. You're going to do fine. Are you ready?" he asks me as we stand back up.

I smooth out my robes. "I…Yes. Yes, I'm ready."

He pats me on the shoulder and moves into the middle of the square. I circle the outside of the square and eye up Madesi's stand. I see the lockbox. I swallow back my fear and grip and lockpick tight in my hand. As promised, Brynjolf's voice booms through the square. He's only talking to a few people, but he's making sure that his voice is heard throughout the crowd.

"Did you hear about that business that happened in the Jarl's palace a few days ago? Seems someone tried to start a fire. Burnt down the drapes and everything!"

And, just like wildfire, the rumor spreads through the crowd and they flock towards Brynjolf and his lie. I smirk at him and crouch down, careful to make as little noise as possible and I near Madesi's stand. I look around a few times to make sure nobody's looking, then start trying to pick the lock. I jiggle the lock once. Nothing. I move the lockpick to another angle and try again. Still nothing. I move the lockpick again and push a little harder with the knife, trying to force the lockbox open.

The lockpick breaks with an audible snap. Part of it is still wedged into the lock, and the other part goes flying, hitting Madesi in the shoulder. Before I can move, think, or speak he whips around and looks right at me. I draw my hands back immediately and stand, looking around desperately. Oh shit.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing over there?" His raspy Argonian voice is louder than Brynjolf's and people start to turn to me, brows raised and expressions angry once they realize what I have done.

Oh Gods, no. A crowd. P-People are looking at me angrily. Someone drew a sword. Madesi is starting towards me, shouting at me, threatening to call the guards. Keep control, Melara. Don't lose it. Don't lose it. Close your eyes and breathe.

"I-I didn't mean any harm…" My voice is small and timid.

"Now folks, don't worry about this here mess. I'll take care of it. Madesi, I'm so sorry. I'll take her to the guards immediately."

Brynjolf dispels the tension and takes me roughly by the arm, pulling me out of the square and into a dark alley. I can feel the crowds' gaze on me as we move. I can't breathe. Brynjolf shoves me against a wall and then turns, running a hand quickly through his hair. He's upset. Is he going to hurt me?

"I'm sorry, Brynjolf, I tried…"

He shakes his head. "You almost exposed us, lass! People in this town are gettin' real lax about the Thieves Guild and your little display there almost ruined that for us. What were you thinkin'?"

I look away from him and try to breathe evenly. I close my eyes. I can't lose it. Not with him. Not here, where there's so many people. I can't. I can't. I won't. Breathe, Melara. He's just chastising you. Don't use your magic. Don't lose control. Not here, not now.

"Hey lass…are you alright?"

I don't answer him. I can't open my eyes. I can't open my mouth. I can't. Not yet. My body's not ready. I have to calm down.

"Hey there lass, relax. It's gonna be alright."

I feel his hand close around one of my shoulders, and I open my eyes and look down at my hands. My fists are clenched and engulfed in flame. Brynjolf has pushed me against the wall and is looking into my eyes, searching them, with one hand on a dagger at his hip. He looks concerned, alert, and ready to intervene if I were to try something. I don't know if he's looking to check if I'm alright, or ensuring I don't burn anyone to death. I look away from him and put my hands down, diminishing my magic. I just need to relax. I inhale twice, three times through my nose and let it out slowly. Brynjolf tilts his head to one side and looks at me with a wary expression. I shake my head at him, hoping to dismiss the matter and dissuade him from asking me more about it.

He backs away from me and runs a hand through his hair again. "I guess I expected too much from you. Far too much, so it seems."

I look down, a bit shamed by his words. I did the best I could. I don't know anything about thievery or lockpicking or pickpocketing. What in Oblivion else did he expect?

He turns back towards me, scratching his chin. "But I still think you have the spark that I'm lookin' for. You've got a lot of enthusiasm and spunk."

I tilt my head at him. "I don't know about this, Brynjolf. I…I don't have anything planned out or anything and I…I'm really unsure about where to go…I just ran away from my home over in Ivarstead and I don't know anyone or anything or…"

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. "Alright lass, here's my offer. My organization makes its home in the Ratway under the city. It's a series of tunnels and sewage pipes that lead to a little tavern called the Ragged Flaggon. You think on it, and meet me there if you wanna take things a step further. We can talk more about your future."