The girl smiled as the naive Githhaven citizen tried to guess where the dice was, to no avail. The girl–a street urchin–had been scamming people with the trick ever since an old “cripple” had taught her the year before. 

   It was simple. 

   The trick worked by a sleight-of-hand technique. One had simply to flip the dice out of the seashell it was in, into their hand, and back into a different shell. 

   Many failed, but some figured out they weren’t going to guess the right shell and took a fifty-fifty chance on the other two.

   Currently, the girl was demonstrating the “trick” to a foolish man. “So watch as I slowly move the shells around, and you can see that the first shell is the one with the dice.”

   She then moved the shells around and instilled a false sense of confidence in the spectator by showing them that the dice was still in the original one.

   The man smiled, thinking he would make an easy fifty silver domfel (the currency of Talora Kal).

   So the girl shuffled the shells in a blur and carefully flipped the dice into her hand, and back into a different shell. When she stopped, the man had a big grin on his face.

   “Ah, you foolish girl. You didn’t really think you could get me with this, did you?” he said as he pointed to the shell it had once been in. “Alas, I must take what is owed.” 

   The girl smiled and flipped the shell, to reveal nothing. “Alright, pay up.”

   Sometime later, the girl walked through the crowded streets of market day. Around her, some three thousand people filled the marketplace. Angry barterers yelled at vendors, and little children screeched as they did not receive the gifts they wanted.

   The girl remained inconspicuous as she slid gracefully through the throng. The day was a hot one early in the ninth month of the year, Agdor, and sweat trickled in small rivulets down her spine.

   The girl smiled to herself as she strode up to a certain vendor. He was shorter and on the more plumpish side, with a small goatee and skin the color of carmel. 

   “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite little lass. How goes the day?”

   The girl grinned and dropped a bag of seventy silver domfels on the counter–around three days’ wages. 

   The man raised a single eyebrow. “Impressive. Who was foolish enough to help you with such a fortune?”

   “Some rich buffoon,” she said with a grin.

   The man sighed. “You know it’s a dangerous business you dabble in, Elisa.”

   The girl, whose name was Elisa, rolled her eyes. “I’ve got to eat, haven’t I?”

   “Just be careful, I would hate for you to lose your freedom, after everything that has happened,” the man said.

   “I’ll be fine, I just need some of those beef ribs you got there,” she said, pointing to the delicious-looking ribs, sizzling on a grate behind the man. She handed him three silver domfel and waited in anticipation. 

   The man chuckled and pulled a gorgeous rib off the grate and handed it to Elisa, who immediately took a massive bite, sucking the juices from the meat and filling herself up. She sighed in satisfaction and closed her eyes, savoring it. 

   “Thank you!” she said. Then she pranced away, unaware of the soldier sitting a short distance away, listening to the whole conversation. With a smile, he followed her from a good distance, prepared to tell the Captain of the Guard about another special case. 

   Elisa sat in an alleyway, smiling fondly at the day’s glean. Conning and scavenging were all she had known for the last six years. 

   Ever since her parents had died at sea–sacrificing themselves by giving her the only remaining spot on the safety boat–she had wandered from the beaches of Qaerlin to Githhaven. Her journeys had led her to meet many, and grow in her maturity faster than most. 

   She was now the age of fourteen and had grown to a height taller than most of the other girls in Talora Kal. Her body was skinny from limited food and her hair hung in a stringy mess around her.

   Most of the nobles paid no heed to her, and most peasants had not the money to play games with the risk of losing what meager coin they had scrounged up. So Elisa seldom made more than ten silver domfel a day, while the average man supporting a family might make eighty. Coming close to that was an accomplishment; so she rejoiced.

   It was at that moment, as she thanked gods she didn’t believe in, that four guards rounded the corner. The leader said: “You are under arrest for theft and fraud. We will see to your punishment, and you will have no say.”

   And just like that, Elisa was taken away, scared and alone.

   Elisa sat in the back of a barred carriage with three other kids around her age. She had asked her captors numerous times where they were taking her, but they wouldn’t tell her. 

   She knew that children were not usually jailed for crimes, unless it was heinous. Normally, one of your parents would have to serve some jail time to compensate; she didn’t know what happened if you had no parents.