Landra was knocked out of her reverie as Luke spoke up. Suddenly brought back to reality, the sunlight hurt her eyes, making her squint.

"What did you say?" she asked him, unable to remember.

"What does that say?" He pointed to a sign just to the right of her head. Landra looked to it and read aloud.

"Oracle Staves on sale today for 100¢d," she told him with a sigh. "It's just garbage, Luke."

"I know." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued walking, silent for the moment. After a few minutes, Landra decided that it was inevitable; they would have to discuss their hopeless situation sometime--may as well make it now.

"Have you talked to Furlan about that change of position?" Looking up, Luke shook his head, kicking a rock with his beat-up shoe absentmindedly. "The next competition is in three weeks," she reminded him, "I don't think we'll have enough to get by 'til then."

"I could try and filch a bit from Furlan," he suggested, moving aside as a leper walked past him. His friend's reaction was instantaneous.

"No!" she shouted, adamant. "He'll catch you, and you know it! You can't steal from a thief, Luke!"

He sighed. "What else can we do?" They both let the conversation hang on that question, neither of them having an answer. They passed rows of decrepit, decaying buildings and eventually found themselves at the heart of the slums, the place they had no choice but to call home. The slums were not a place of fear for them, however. Everyone knew to stay away from Landra: her strength and fierceness had been proven more than once in street brawls and competitions alike. Turning down a road whose sign had long been knocked down and used as either firewood or a weapon, Luke this time broached the subject.

"I know what you said last time," he began sheepishly, "but we're really hurting bad this time." He paused for a moment, unsure whether to continue. "Maybe you should take one of those jobs, just once--" Landra had stopped beside him and it took a moment for him to realise he was walking alone. Turning about, guilt crossed his face as he saw the expression on her face.

"Just once!?" she fumed. "I won't work as an assassin even if it is safe to be in the slums!" Her anger turned to sadness as she continued. "You don't know what it's like to kill someone, Luke." Her voice was weak; she inhaled heavily, trying to regain her composure. "It's not something I want to do twice." Luke took both her hands in his and tried his best to soothe her.

"We have to keep moving," he reminded her after a few moments. "If we don't meet this buyer, our goose is cooked."

Landra straightened up, running a hand through her hair. "Right."

The two made their way down the street and stopped before an alley, where they were to meet their perspective buyer. Landra began to protest as Luke tried to keep her back, but he silenced her quickly.

"They'll be suspicious if I bring someone with me," he whispered. "Besides, you'll be able to hear everything from here."

"But--"

"Don't worry," he insisted. "I'll be back before you know it."

Leaving her, he made his way into the alley to meet the men wanting to buy the ruby rock from Furlan.

The sound of Luke's shuffling feet was as loud to Landra as the chime of Dezantis' clock tower at noon. He walked twenty-two paces before his footfalls ceased. Instantly, the gruff voice of a man facing hard times drifted to her ears.

"You're late," the man said, displeasure obvious in his tone. Indeed, Landra could hear the exchange very clearly. People in these parts kept to their own business, so hushed voices and nighttime meetings were unnecessary. The murder rate was higher at night in any case, so the days were much safer. Distracted, Landra lost part of what the man said next: "...is worth the time I wasted waiting for you." There was a slight pause after which Landra heard the canvas sack Luke was carrying being thrown.

"See for yourself," Luke answered confidently. There was another pause, this one more lengthy as the buyer no doubt examined the merchandise. The silence continued until Landra was sure an eternity had passed. The entire time, she was on edge, now unsure of whether these streets were as empty as they seemed. She no longer safe, waiting there for Luke to return. Even with her skills in hand-to-hand combat, she felt exposed, vulnerable--weak. How many people could be watching her that very instant? A few? Dozens? Hundreds? She had no way of knowing, and it was all nervous paranoia, although she was reluctant to admit it. Finally, the silence was broken by a second unknown voice. He sounded far from pleased.

"Do you take me for a fool, boy, or is your employer just a moron?" There was no mistaking the malice in his voice. One false move and he could indeed turn violent. Landra could only hope that Luke would handle the situation correctly.

"No, sir," Luke answered. He sounded worried. If Furlan had meant to cheat these men, Luke didn't know about it, she was sure. "I mean no disrespect to you, nor will I assume anything of Furlan, either."

Relief flooded over her as one of the buyers spoke up in a clear voice: "All right, go see your boss," he instructed. "Just make sure you clear this up." Landra frowned: what was that all about? If she knew one think for sure, it was that this was not standard procedure for their lot of people. Her mind raced so fast, she missed the last of the conversation. Before she knew it, Luke was walking back out of the alley. Worry was escalating to dread. What was going on?

Terrified, spied into the alleyway as sounds of a struggle reached her ears. One of the men had stabbed Luke repeatedly, causing unsettling amounts of blood to well from the wounds. Landra's heart sank; pile rose to her throat. Her only friend in the world was dying before her eyes and she could do nothing to save him. And his killers had seen her.

She ran.

Past piles of garbage and human waste, past huddled, vaguely human shapes, she ran. Well aware of the murderers behind her, Landra didn't dare look back. She turned right onto the first alley that looked clear enough to navigate, almost losing her footing on a puddle of ooze. She climbed over heaps of reeking, half-decomposed garbage she couldn't begin to identify, her pursuers cursing loudly behind her. Making it through to slightly less stomach-turning side streets, Landra weaved between buildings, hoping to make it to the square in time. Taking a left turn and plodding through a crowd of peddlers on what some locals called the market street, she continue running until her legs threatened to give out under her. Then, just as exhaustion began to show its signs, Landra emerged into the Town Square. She could find no trace of the murderers.

She looked toward the gate, finding nothing unusual; she looked all around her to insure that she was safe. She had almost made it to the sanctuary of the shrine when she bumped into someone, knocking both Landra and her unfortunate victim to the ground. She winced as a knee or elbow dug into her side, making for a painful fall.

She had fallen onto a boy, that much she could tell after he picked himself up. He looked to be about the same age as she was, and had what Landra thought was the most endearing orange colour of hair. In fact, he was pretty cute. That thought brought a flood of tears to her eyes. Luke was surely dead, his body lying in that dirty alley, bleeding away. Weeping openly, Landra could only lose herself in the boy's shoulder as he picked her up and held her close, a puzzled, concerned look on his face