Lindent loped off in front of me, casually looking around as I followed from a distance. He perked up at the sight of one shop, then dashed right in.

I frowned. That was the antique shop-- except their definition of 'antique' was at most five years old, and had much to do with throw-away old and broken stuff from town. They had even taken Ruth's little baby blanket when it had been dropped in the mud and run over by a passing carriage, making it very... dingy.

Hmm. I wondered idly if anyone had bought that yet.

Lindent bounded back out, holding a pretty big and cracked pot in his hand. A man (probably the shop owner?) followed him out, with a satisfied grin on his face. "Thank you for your patronage!" he bellowed. Lindent only nodded in response, then waited until I caught up to him.

"What's with the pot?" I asked once I reached him. It was pretty large, wide enough that Lindent was clasping his hands around it like he was hugging the thing, and it was bulky and brown. Kind of ugly, if you asked me. It had a crack that went from the top all the way to the bottom, and parts of the pot were even chipped away. There would no holding liquids in that, for sure.

He flashed me a grin, shrugged, then motioned with his shoulder towards a direction. I watched as he loped off again, his figure filled with determination and purpose.

I sighed, taking in my surroundings. I barely came over to this side of town these days-- well, I'd been pretty busy, so I hadn't really been anywhere lately-- but I knew my town inside out. "Lindent!" I called to his back. He threw his head back, his eyebrows raised. "Why are we going to the empty lots?"

He shook his head.

"We're not?"

He shrugged.

Then where... I racked my brain. The fields? There was a giant corn field just at the edge of Minstia past the empty lots. But why would we go there?

What did people even do in corn fields?¹*whispers* murder

I heaved another sigh, bigger than my last. Well, I had nothing better to do. If corn field was where he was bringing me along, then corn field it was.²PSA: if someone tells you 'let's go the corn field, it's past a bunch of haunted empty lots' in America and brings a pot, don't go. You might die... or worse, expelled. End PSA.

We went past the empty lots in silence. I was still ambling, though I guess I wasn't really ambling aimlessly now since I had an aim (following Lindent) and a destination (the corn field, apparently). My eyes on the ground, I let my misery take over again. Another deep sigh left my lips, and I wished I could maybe just curl up into a ball and sink into one of these empty lots. I heard they were haunted-- maybe I could make new friends here.

I waved the thought away with another sigh. I didn't really want to think about friends right now. That was too tiring.

I was too busy drowning in my sorrows that I didn't notice Lindent had disappeared from my sight once I looked up again. I blinked.

"...Lindent?"

I looked around me, but I could only see a bunch of dirt and weeds tumbling around. The nearest building was pretty far away, and it was an open space, so he couldn't have gone that far in that little time. There were a few bushes, too, but unless Lindent was crouching behind them-- oh. Lindent popped up from behind one of the bushes, looking at me expectantly.

Well. That's not what I expected, but okay.

I shuffled over to him and peered at him from beyond the bush, my brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?" 

Behind the bushes, Lindent was on one knee, a rock in his hand and the pot in the other, poised as if he was all set to write something on it. He used his rock hand to wave me over, and so I sighed, went around the bushes, and squatted next to him listlessly. "What are you doing here?" I repeated.

He shook his head and began scratching something onto the thick-walled ceramic (ugly) pot with the rock. I waited, my head tilted.  Uh... should I be reminding him that I can't read?

After some time, he finished whatever he was writing on it with flourish, then showed it to me proudly. I raised an eyebrow at him, but before I could open my mouth, he pointed to each part he had written and read it out loud. "Pot, of, secrecy," he told me.

Both eyebrows now raised, I blinked at him. "Pot of secrecy?"

He nodded. "Pot of Secrecy."

"Um. Okay," I said slowly, scratching my neck. "Uh... good for you. Wow, a pot of secrecy! Umm..." He seemed so proud. Should I, should I be... congratulating him? I offered Lindent a confused smile. "Congratulations?"

Lindent rolled his eyes (rude, I was trying to be nice) and shook his head. He nudged the pot towards me and said, "It's yours."

"Huh?"

He stood up. "Tell it whatever it is on your mind, and the Pot will contain it and never tell anyone else." He nudged the pot towards me again with his foot. "Pot of Secrecy."

I blinked up at him, squinting against the sky, rolling his words in my mind. "Wow," I said finally, a few moments of silence later. "I've never heard you speak that much before."

He gave me a deadpan look, and I chuckled lightly. "Okay, okay, I get it. You want me to tell it everything that's been bothering me, right?"

Lindent nodded, looking both serious and expectant at the same time, then stepped out to stand a few feet away from me. He gestured to the pot again, then turned his back towards me.

I looked at the pot, the small bit of lightness leaving me again as I considered it carefully. It really was ugly-- the pot must have been someone's idea of a joke, because there was no way anyone cooked with this or used it for anything. Honestly, it was more like a vase-- the entrance was narrower than its body-- and if not for the two handles awkwardly placed one-fourths down the pot, it wouldn't have been a pot at all.

I glanced at Lindent, but he was now clasping his hands behind his back and looking up at the sky, the picture of leisure itself. Turning back to the pot, I placed my hands on its rims and exhaled slowly.

Well. I had been wanting to yell and scream for quite a while now. I might as well take this golden chance.

I inhaled deeply, then let it all whoosh out of me. My hold on the pot tightened, and I leaned forward, tilting the pot's opening towards me. I took another deep breath. "QUEEN IZEL SUCKS BUUUUUUUUTT!!!!!!!!!!!" I yelled in a guttural shout.

Lindent began coughing.

"CRUMPEEEETSS SUUUUCK I HAAAATE THEEEEEM!!!!!!!!!! STOP MAKING ME WOOOORKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANNA SLEEEEEEP!!!! GGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH YOU CANNIBAAAALS YOU THINK YOU'RE SO COOL??!?!? NoooOOO YOU FAAAAIL IN LIFE you FAAAAAIL I HATE YOU SOOOO MUUUUUUUUCHHHH!!!!! GOOO DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE YOUUU I HATE EVERYOOONEEEE EVERYONE SHOULD GOOO DIEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

Was that sound Lindent gasping for breath? He better not be laughing.

I whipped my head around and glared at his back, where now his hands were covering his face and his shoulders were shaking. Hmph! Well, he wasn't worth it. I harrumphed and turned back to the pot, glaring at the pot, too. 

I inhaled again for one last shout, then the words that rose into my mind tumbled out through my lips before I could stop them. "I hate you, Rosa," I heard myself say, and my voice caught in my throat. A sudden barrage of tears flooded my eyes, and angry tears began pouring out onto my cheeks. Lindent's smothered snickers died away.

I shook my head-- I didn't mean that. But I couldn't stop myself. My mouth opened again, and I was whispering bitterly into the pot, a torrent of words spilling out of my mouth. "I hate you. I don't get what you're trying to say. I don't get it, and I don't want to get it. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this so much. I feel like I have no choice. I hate it."

I bit back my lips, but as strangled and hoarse my voice was getting, I had more to say.

"You know what? I hate it when you act so weird around other people and I feel like I have to be the one to cover for you. I have to be the one to laugh it off. It's so exhausting, you know? It's so exhausting. Why do I have to act as your excuse? Why do I have to give excuses for everyone? Why do I have to be so nice? You know, you get to attend the Academy for nobles and wear fancy clothes and ride in carriages and have servants for your every needs and what do you do? You complain. You have no right to complain. You don't know how lucky you are."

I took a shuddering breath, clutching at the pot so hard my hands were trembling. "You know what I was doing while you were blowing your greatest chances in life? I was working. I was working so much and so hard and I couldn't stop because if I stop, I might starve. Mom might starve. You think it's easy knowing all I'll ever do in my life is pour drinks and sell apples? You think I like working and being nice and keeping myself alive? You have it so good, Rosa, and you don't even know it. I hate that you don't know it. You even have a giant family. " Tears dripped down onto the pot, rolling down the cracks.

I swallowed. "Stop making me choose, Rosa, stop making me choose. I don't want to think about all of this." I squeezed my eyes shut. "I don't want to think at all. I don't want to choose. I don't know what you mean by saving the world, but I don't want to. I just..." My voice faltered, and my next words left me in a subdued, strangled whisper. "I just want to live."

I sagged onto the ground, my head hanging and my hands still clutching the entrance of the pot.

A part of me went, well, I didn't know I was feeling this way, but I was just so, so tired. So tired of crying, of feeling like every moment not spent working was a moment wasted. Of knowing that mom was depending on me. Of knowing that I had no other choice.

Hiccupping, I let go of the pot and fell back on my heels, then covered my face and cried.

A/N: Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, likes to come when you finally have time to let yourself go. ^^