Nobody's perfect, especially when learning something new. Occasionally there would be someone naturally gifted, a person who didn't require a lot of training or instruction. Those people were easy to handle. They didn't accidentally freeze water on the wet dock instead of the water surrounding the fish.

At the docks, those elementally gifted with water used their ability to freeze fish, thus keeping them fresh through their journey until they arrived at their destination. A few new people had started that morning, which Asher had been pleased about. Since those training for the Trial had been allowed to drop their jobs in favor of preparing, the workload had doubled for those left behind. New faces were more than welcome at a time like this.

However, new people learning on the job, who weren't well trained in their abilities yet, were a different story.

Asher didn't think much of it when he slipped on the deck and fell; it happened all the time. Wet surfaces made for slippery conditions. It came with the job. However, when he continued to slide at an alarming rate to the dock's edge and into the water, he became concerned.

Just as his body lost contact with the deck, and was midair above the water's surface, he looked up in horror. A commercial fishing boat was using its crane to move a giant metal crab cage, which was filled to the brim. Asher knew the ship. It was old, and the crane had about a seventy-five percent success rate when carrying such hefty loads. They weren't supposed to fill it that much. Asher wondered if the crew was made up of new people too.

He sucked in a large breath when the crane's cord snapped, and the cage began to fall towards him.

He hit the water just moments before the cage did, pushing him farther down into the water. Asher could hear his coworkers' muffled voices above, frantically calling his name and jabbering amongst themselves.

In the process of both Asher and the cage entering the water, his right arm had become trapped, putting him shoulder-deep inside the massive contraption. He was trapped with the large crabs, snapping their claws and catching on his clothes and hair, making it even more difficult to free himself. Their hard shells and the metal points of the cage put small tears in his clothes and skin as he tried to wrench himself free, the water quickly growing darker around him.

Seconds felt like an eternity, and by the time he was able to detach himself from the cage, his lungs were on fire. He looked up to the surface, eyes burning due to the saltwater, and felt his heart sink when he realized how far he had to swim.

Asher's legs felt as heavy as stone, but he pushed through, trying to break the surface as quickly as possible. He froze, however, when someone entered the water and began to swim towards him at an impressive rate. They shot towards Asher like a rocket, using their hands to cut through the water like butter.

Anxiety continued to rise in his chest as the figure got closer. He couldn't tell who it was, but something about the person seemed wrong. It reached out to him only a few feet away, and Asher yelled, forcing out bubbles when he realized it was the shadowed figure from his dreams.

The black, human-like silhouette was now attempting to drag him by the collar of his shirt. Asher fought tooth and nail to free himself, but to no avail. Water was filling his lungs, slowing his movements. Eventually, his spit-fire energy faded, and his body continued to sag against the figure's tight grip as his consciousness began to fade.

Asher's body hit the hard ground, knocking water free from his chest and sending him into a coughing fit. He could faintly hear the sound of cheers and clapping surrounding him. Someone was rapping on his back, helping to expel the liquid from his lungs.

"Dude, are you okay? Why the hell did you fight me?!" A voice asked, laced with concern.

Asher heaved, greedily sucking in oxygen, and flopped onto his back. The sun's harsh evening rays hit his face, forcing him to put his hand up to see. He was back on the deck, those who worked the docks with him stood nearby, some with worried faces and others entertained.

He pushed himself up on his elbows, spitting up a few last drops of water, "Will?"

A soaking wet blonde smiled back at him, a sizeable goofy grin plastered on his face, "Hey bud! You know, you're lucky I got here when I did."

Asher smirked and slowly stood, wringing out the end of his shirt and firmly running his hands through his hair, trying to rid it of the majority of the water.

"That, however, is pretty unlucky," Will commented, gesturing to the broken crane on the older boat's back.

"Luck hasn't been on my side lately," Asher chuckled. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

"I was sent to get you."

"More training, huh?" Asher asked, tilting his head to the side to drain the water out of his ears.

Will grinned, "I like your thought process, but not this time. We're all heading to Hannah's."

Asher furrowed his brow, "Really?" I mean, I'm okay with not going to the field today, believe me, but Hannah doesn't like people in her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, all her shit is in a specific place, clean and whatever," Will rolled his eyes, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "If it weren't all pink, maybe I'd take it a little more seriously."

"You're just mad because she gets on your case about making a mess."

"It's not just me!" Will snapped.

"It is just you, but I'll let you think that," Asher smirked.

Will crossed his arms, "Screw you, man, I thrive in my carefree lifestyle."

"Alright, alright," Asher held his hands up in defeat. "I'll head over once I clean up a bit."

"Cool," Will responded. His soaked sneakers squeaked on the deck as he walked, and even louder when he stopped short and pivoted to face Asher once more. "Hey, you didn't answer my question!"

"What?"

"In the water. You looked terrified, and I figured it was just the situation freaking you out, but when I tried to grab you, you started panicking and pushing me away."

Asher's heart stuttered, remembering the dark figure he'd seen in his friend's place. He'd never suffered PTSD from a nightmare, especially days later.

"I think the panic got the best of me. I'm honestly not sure what happened towards the end there," Asher laughed sheepishly. His shoulders tensed at his lie, enforcing his anxious habit of placing his hands into the pockets of his soaked pants.

Will snorted, "You went crazy, that's what! You're lucky I didn't just leave your delusional ass in the water."

Asher traveled home in an incredibly uncomfortable state. Wet clothes were difficult, or even painful to walk in. When he arrived, Will's words were still ringing in his mind. He wasn't delusional. Maybe haunted was a better word, or paranoid. The mind is a powerful thing, after all.

He quickly showered and changed, then took a moment to tidy up around his apartment before leaving. He stopped for a moment and gazed from the kitchen and into the living room, his eyes landing on the throw blanket on the couch. He half expected it to neatly fold itself before his eyes, proving Will's claim correct. Asher's eyes began to glaze over as he again recalled his dream, but quickly snapped out of it when he accidentally dropped the dirty cup he had been holding into the sink.

He scoffed and shook his head. Yes, the mind is indeed a very powerful thing.