With each breath Myth took, the blade pressed against her skin. Cold fear ran through her veins like ice, and she struggled not to let her legs fall beneath her.

      "What do you want?" Myth gasped.

      The voice of her attacker spoke softly right into her ear. Quiet, smooth — female. "Whatever you have. Money. Food. Give it to me. Slowly."

       Myth could feel her attacker's body against her back. Steady, calm breaths. "Funny enough, I was just looking for the same things."

       "Don't lie to me."

       "Then slit my throat already if you don't believe me."

       The attacker hesitated. Then pressed the knife deeper into her skin. Myth winced, then let out a calm breath.

       Maybe this is it, she thought. An early end.

       It was so easy to give in to the thought.
The excuse.

       Can't save my brother if I'm dead... I'm sorry Soren... But this is just how it ends.

       Warm, sticky fluid dripped down her chest. The cold nipped at the wound on her throat. The sensation gave her a rush. "What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Do it."

       Not a movement from her attacker.
       "Do it. Please."

       Another pause. The knife vanished.

       In a heartbeat, her attacker swept around to face her.

       A narrow, pale face, half hidden beneath an even paler cloak. A flash of light, pinkish-blue eyes.

      Then a smash of pain against the side of her head.

      And darkness.

                                           -
    
      "Then slit my throat already. Please. Please."
     
The words came to her as a mumble. They weren't hers. The world still took shape around her, the world a fuzzy blur of gray and orange.

       "You've been through some stuff, haven't you?"

     Orange. That was the sky. It was dawn, the last of the stars and night still retreating over the horizon. Gray. The cold, hard rock beneath her.

     Rock. Boulder. She was on the massive rock that the inn was built into. Turn her head one way, and she could see the entire expanse of the camp and the swamps beyond. Look the other way, and...

     Her attacker. The girl sat on the ground, elbows on her knees, dagger in hand. "So. I'll assume you have a name?"

     Myth rubbed the throbbing side of her head. "You'll also assume I'll give it to you, I suppose?"

     The girl shrugged. She looked incredibly lean, the threadbare cloak barely hiding a narrow frame. "Well, I'm also the one with a knife."

      "Then pick something more effective. I'm not afraid of your knife."

      A curious look crossed the girl's face. "Yes. You did prove that." The girl rolled to her feet and stood. She looked only a few inches taller than Myth, from quick assessment. The cloak only went as far as her lower back before reducing to tatters. Ragged black clothes highlighted a braid of white hair. Despite her scant size, she stood with confidence. "Fine. I'll go first. My name is Truth."

     Something about the name rang a sour note. "Truth? Really?"

     The girl jerked her chin at Myth. "Your turn."

     Slowly, she rose to a sitting position. "Myth."

     Truth raised a brow. "And you're questioning my name?"

     Myth huffed. "Short for Mythra. But I prefer Myth."

     Truth took a few casual steps forward, showing off her boots all the way up to the knees. "So then, Myth. What made you, lone gal such as yourself, so completely void of hope?"

     Myth tensed. "You make bold accusations to someone you've only just met."

     The pale girl flipped her knife. "If I wasn't bold I'd have greeted you with a cup of tea rather than a knife," she snorted. "I let you live because I want to know why. Why did you not care?"

      A breeze of foul slum-scent washed past her. She glanced down at the camp below. "There's dozens of people out there. Sleeping against buildings, shivering in the cold. All completely hopeless that it will get better. Why didn't you kidnap one of them? Likely would have been easier."

      Truth's strange eyes lowered to the slums. "Those are broken people down there. Fighting for life when they don't even know what life is anymore. You, you were hopeless, but not broken. You were still thinking. Thinking about how much you didn't care. But thinking nonetheless."

      "I really fail to see the difference."

      Truth crouched in front of her. "You're from Jade, aren't you?"

      Myth froze. "How did you know?"

      The girl gave a crooked grin. "I like to think I can see the truth in people."

      "But how? How do you know?" Myth found herself inching backwards towards the edge, away from the girl.

      The dawn rose behind Truth, casting her in shadow. She sighed. "I know, Myth. Because two years ago, I was you. Two years ago, I escaped the Jade Institute."