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"The universe is transformation: life is opinion."

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—•—

The sky was dark grey and heavy with rain. The cobbled street was slippery as tiny streams of water ran through the cracks in the stone like veins.

George kept his balance as much as he could as he walked down the hill, gripping his umbraculum for dear life. The rain continued to pour around him, splashing up the length of his toga and dampening the hem.

Nevertheless, George pushed forward, reaching the end of the cobbled street, where he peered down the road. It was mostly empty, except for a few stragglers, so George wound the shawl around his lower face and made his way down the street.

The rain lessened slightly, drizzling, as George made his way through the familiar Roman streets; ones which he was used to navigating within the confines of a litter.

The buildings around him were shut up tight; window shutters pulled closed and flower boxes dripping with the over saturation filling the soil.

George admired the city, his city, as he walked down the road, one hand holding his umbraculum, and the other stuck out, catching rain drops.

A few minutes of precarious walking later, George found himself at the edge of the market. Despite the weather, crowds of people continued to mill between the stalls. These stalls were brightly coloured, set up along the edges of narrow alleys and around a giant courtyard.

As the disguised emperor began walking into the market, someone bumped into him, shouldering past, muttering: "Watch where you're fucking going."

Obviously, George knew that the man would never have said that if he knew that he had just shouldered past the emperor. So, George just murmured a faint apology, and continued.

He allowed his eyes to glance over the different items for sale. Trinkets and jewels lined fine cloths, draped over the stalls counters. Food was being sold, along with produce and every day necessities.

George approached one stall as the rain above ceased, and he closed up his umbraculum, tucking it beneath his arm.

"Good afternoon!" The stall owner beamed. "How can I help you?"

"These are beautiful," George said, picking up a dainty gold necklace with a small, raw chunk of amethyst dangling as a pendant. "Do you make these yourself?"

The owner nodded enthusiastically. "Sure do! Make 'em with my own two hands."

George scanned the table, finding another piece of jewellery that caught his eye. Similar to the necklace in his hand, it was a thin rope of gold, winding around a roughly polished sapphire.

"I'll take both of these," George said, holding up the two necklaces. "One for me, and a gift for my best friend."

The owner grinned, accepting the few gold coins that George placed in her hand. George watched happily as the young girl took the necklaces and began to wrap them in wax paper.

She was tall, probably a bit taller than him, with dark skin decorated with a mosaic of freckles and vitiligo. She wore her hair in braids; each strand weaved with beads of gold and silver. Like her hair, her ears, neck, wrists and fingers were covered in silver and gold; earrings, necklaces, bracelets and rings.

George also noticed, as the girl began heating some fresh wax to make a seal, that she was wearing a sage green dress, splattered with colourful wax and paint.

The market stall was also decorated with candles and pots, puffing out sweet smelling aromas of clary sage and wisteria. Raw crystals and polished stones also dotted between the handmade jewellery, and George couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of it all.

Wind chimes, celestial sun catchers and coloured flags fluttered from the markets shelter, glittering and clinking and sending rays of distorted rainbows across the area.

Poor George. Colourblindness was a bitch.

"Here you are, domine," The girl poured wax onto the paper, pressing it into a seal, before handing it to George. "Thank you for stopping by."

George smiled, taking the parcel. "Thank you. Bye, bye."

The girl winked. "Goodbye, your highness."

George turned away, walking a few paces into the market before he halted, spinning around as the words hit his brain like a bolt of lightening.

Did she just call me—?

He peered over the crowd, back towards the stall but the girl was busy tending to another customer, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

At this, George immediately relaxed, turning back to continue walking into the market, where he ended up purchasing a wicker basket to carry all of his goods. He bought food, clothes, jewellery and, as he had only spent half an hour there, he intended to buy much more.

"Anything tickle your fancy, domine?" Came a soft voice, and only then did George realise he was day dreaming.

Zoning back in, George met the eyes of a kind woman, gesturing to her market stall.

"What is all this stuff?" George asked, genuinely curious at all the bottles and boxes.

The woman picked up a small corked bottle, and a small metal box. "The bottles are different kinds of oils, and the boxes have kohl. I also sell other beauty products."

George picked up one of the small, narrow boxes of kohl, opening it and examining the dark tint of the powder. He decided that he would purchase a couple of boxes.

"You're certainly adding to your stash," the woman remarked, nodding to George's basket. "Any particular reason?"

She accepted the coins that George gave her. She then began to package the kohl boxes as George spoke.

"I haven't been to the market by myself in a long time," George admitted. "So I couldn't help myself. Everything here is amazing."

The woman nodded, slipping the packaged kohl into George's basket, which he thanked her for.

"There's a lot of amazing stuff here, so I'm glad you're supporting us," the woman smiled. "Will that be all?

George nodded, stepping back slightly to read the signs on the market stall, looking for a name. "Yes, thank you, Kristin."

"No problem, domine. Enjoy the rest of your day." Kristin bid George farewell as he left, walking back to where he'd come from.

He had been away for a bit longer than an hour and, as he weaved between the crowds of plebeians and aristocrats, he sighed. He would have to return home to a life which he didn't want to live.

After he had budged past a group of young men, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Spinning around, he came face to face with the girl from the crystal jewellery stall.

"Domine," she greeted. "I've been looking for you!"

"Oh? What's the matter?" George pressed but the girl shook her head.

"Nothings the matter, I just wanted to give you this," she handed him another necklace. "I just thought you'd like it..."

It was thicker then the other necklaces; the gold chain not as dainty, but strong and sturdy like rope, entwined with a tanned strip of leather. The pendant was a large animals tooth, attached to the necklace in a twist of gold wire and leather.

"I've seen you before. With the gladiator," the girl murmured. "I thought that you'd like to give it to him."

George gripped the necklace in his hand. "Thank you... I will give it to him."

The girl smiled gratefully. "That's great! Well, I won't keep you any longer. Have a safe journey home, your highness."

She whispered the last part, before taking off into the crowd again, presumably heading back to her stall. George watched her fleeting figure, before tossing the necklace into his basket and heading towards the exit of the large square. However, he didn't make it out of the area before there was another hand on his shoulder.

Assuming it was the girl from the market once more, he turned with a friendly smile.

His smile faded.

It was not the girl.

—•—

Dream paced the hallway of the villa, sandals flopping against the scrubbed marble floor. He hadn't heard much from the emperor in almost an hour, but he didn't enter the room.

"Don't bother me unless I tell you too."

The emperors words echoed around the gladiators brain. He wanted to listen to his boss, he really did. But something just wasn't right.

Hesitantly, Dream knocked on the door and waited. He heard no voice, no noise, no nothing. This made Dream open the door and peek inside, where he scanned the room, and determined that it was empty.

In a panic, he burst noisily into the room with wide eyes. He ran around the room, peering around pillars, around the bed and closet, even running into the bathing room adjacent to check the bath. When he turned up empty handed, he threw open the doors to the balcony, greeted by a blast of cool air.

"No, no, no, no..." he muttered desperately, noticing that the emperors umbraculum was missing from its corner of the room.

Dream ran to the edge of the balcony, gripping the railings and peering down below, where the garden and long grass below appeared trampled ever so slightly.

The gladiator cursed, backing up slightly to grip the railing with one hand, before propelling his body over. He hit the ground, preforming a forward roll, popping to his feet and taking off in a sprint.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Dream cursed, sprinting across the villas front lawn.

Leaping over bushes and patches of gardens, still glistening with raindrops, the gladiators mind was consumed with the possibilities; brain alight with frantic thoughts and feelings.

Barely even puffing, Dream came to a halt before the golden gates. "Let me through."

The two guards posted there looked at him concernedly. One of them went to open the lock, but the other prodded him with the blunt end of his spear.

"Where are you going?" The one with the spear asked suspiciously. "And where is the emperor?"

Dream's eyes flashed with emotion. "Let me though."

"I asked you a question—!"

"—I really don't care. Open the fucking gate or I'll open your fucking chest." Dream gripped his sword, pulling it from his scabbard as the guard opened the gate.

The guard with the spear mumbled something begrudgingly as Dream ran past. Dream, being the competitive fool he was, stopped momentarily to ask: "What did you just say?"

The guard with the spear bristled. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought." Dream sprinted down the hill without a second glance, sword in hand as he ran along the slippery cobble.

At the base of the hill, he tore around the corner leading into town, nearly colliding with someone.

"SH—Oh. Hi, Nightmare." It was Karl, and he steadied the frantic gladiator with his calming gaze.

"Karl—!" Dream panted. "I've... I've lost—!"

"Jeez, calm down," Karl exclaimed. "Deep breaths and tell me exactly what's happened."

Dream inhaled slowly, eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, that's when he realised something.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He was talking to a certain gladiator that was currently standing behind Karl.

It was Sapnap.

"Oh, I got bored, and decided that I wanted a bodyguard as well," Karl said. "So, yeah. This is Sapnap."

"We've met." Sapnap grinned, and Dream returned it.

However, he quickly shook his head like a distracted child. He wasn't here to question whatever Sapnap and Karl were doing together. He needed Karl's help.

"I've lost George," Dream told Karl. "I've lost the emperor. I'm going to get executed, oh my gods."

Karl's brows raised. "You lost George?"

"I left him alone for literally under an hour, and he's gone. Where could he possibly have gone?"

Karl pointed down the road. "Check the market. Me and Sapnap will head to his villa in case he comes home."

Dream nodded, already running down the street. "Thanks, Karl!"

Winding through the maze of buildings, Dream finally stopped running when he found the marketplace. It was humming with people, who were being attracted to different stalls like moths to light.

On his tiptoes, Dream could scan over the heads of the crowd as they milled around him. Not seeing any sign of the emperor, Dream roughly pushed himself through the crowd, sheathing his sword as to avoid accidentally stabbing someone.

"Hey, watch it!" A girl yelled at him as a bucket of gold chains she was holding clattered to the ground.

He didn't look back, just kept walking, till he found the edge of the market, and the last rows of market stalls.

"Kristin." He said aloud, running up to the woman as she appeared to be packing up.

He slammed two hands down onto the table, rattling the bottles and boxes, and she jolted in fright. He then hopped over the market bench, lunging into her arms, causing the crate she was holding to slip, banging to the floor.

"Kristin, Kristin, please," he begged, gripping onto the pink fabric of her dress. "I need your help. I've fucked up. I've really fucked up."

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Hey homies, this is an authors note!

Here's an early chapter cause I said so <3

An OC added to the mix— all will be revealed soon :)

This chapters question/statement: favourite book? (this can be in real life and/or on this app)

Until next time,

Blue :)