“I didn’t notice the scars before.”

“…That’s because they weren’t there before.”

The Irish woman inspected her arm. She poked at the scars. They didn’t hurt. Or feel…real. She had a scar on her ass from an unrelated incident. This—this was—her eyes widened.

“[One True Falsehood].”

“Ah. Another lie.”

Ser Dalius said it sternly, but he almost smiled, relaxing. Cara looked up at him.

“I was just—making that up to make you feel better. But my arm—is this permanent?”

He snorted.

“I shouldn’t imagine so. It’s one falsehood made real. Part of your [Actor] class I’d assume. Do you ever tell the truth?”

“…Of course.”

The [Actress] smiled. And glanced back at her arm. Suddenly—the scars were gone. Uneasily, she stared at the cuts, scabbing over. She—she supposed she had to keep up the lie.

But she was tired. She just sat there. Ser Dalius washed some of the bloody bandages in the water bowl over the fire.

“Miss Cara—”

“Forget it. You saved my life, Dalius. That’s all there is to it. I’m fine. I will be. Thank you.”

He looked back at her. But Cara’s face was set. And Dalius—regarded the lying woman and lied too.

“Very well. Pardon me. I was just worried. I see I needn’t have been. You’re quite resilient, Miss Cara.”

Her shoulders slumped. The [Actress] looked up at him.

“Thanks. Thank you so much.”

The [Knight] nodded. He longed to touch her, take her shoulder and reassure her. But instead he turned away.

1.04 P

Their journey continued after that. Cara woke up in the night, panicked, gasping, thinking she was in the coffin. And she ate only the roots after that. But she refused to scream, and she kept walking.

Ser Dalius watched over her as she slept. That helped. And he kept apologizing—despite Cara telling him to drop it. But after that day—she asked more about his world. And she always kept a lit torch made of the dried roots and listened hard for the sound of skittering.

But it was peaceful. Isolating, but peaceful. Ser Dalius told her of the monsters he had battled. And they were legion.

“Hydras are endemic to Terandria and Baleros. I believe Wyverns occupy Izril. Er—Manticores Chandrar, and so on. Those are some of the larger threats.”

“Fuck. And you fought them?”

The [Knight] puffed out his chest.

“Well, in life, I had Skills and magical artifacts. Even without armor and an enchanted blade, I daresay I could have put up a good fight. As I said—Skills equalize the savagery of magical beasts. But…monsters are terrible.”

He looked at her. None of Cara’s wounds had turned septic, thankfully. But the bandages itched around the scabbed cuts. She rubbed at them, absently.