Sin stood up, walking between my legs to place the lantern dangling in her hand on the nightstand next to the bed.

My lips trembled. I forced my question out in a hoarse whisper.

"H-How did you find me?!"

"Didn't you hear Elmer..."

She twirled her index finger in a circle.

"I'm always above you… always watching. Heh, he's a funny little man."

She stepped back, out of my reach. With her right foot, she tapped the cane I left behind in my frantic retreat.

"Sloppy, nestling. Oh, wait! I can't call you that anymore, can I? The nest burned down."

I grit my teeth. A wave of anger washed away my surprise and fear.

"What do you want?!"

"You're ready."

"What?"

"To solve my third challenge."

She turned on the balls of her feet and began a slow walk to the end of the bed. I scrambled on my hands and knees to grab my cane. The smooth, lacquered surface was a comfort in my hand.

"Well, did you forget? What is ruthlessness?" Sin asked.

My heart was beating out of my chest. I was sweating. Panting.

Sin followed me from the capital and sneaked into our room—to ask me a question?!

Relax… Focus.

I knew the answer.

"To kill what you love."

She cocked her head.

"So poetic! Reeves rubbed off on you."

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She ran her gloved left hand along the bed sheets.

"You're mostly right, but you have it backwards. You must love to kill. It is a weapon's purpose. It is the only happiness we're allowed. Any other happiness is a distraction—a weakness an enemy can exploit."

Sin raised her right hand and revealed her oddly bent knife.

It was pointed at Isla!

I jumped to my feet, both hands on my cane.

"Sin!"

She laughed.

"See! Look how quickly you run to her rescue. She's a distraction—a weakness. By your definition, she should already be dead?"

Sin continued her slow walk to the other side of the bed—closer to Isla. She was fast—faster than me. There was no way to get to her before… before Isla died.

"Wait! Wait. Please…"

"Please?"

She spat out the word like a rotten piece of meat.

"Spirits above, you've been domesticated."

Sin lowered her knife on Isla's forehead, brushing aside strands of blonde hair with the sharp point. My heart caught in my throat.

"She's cute. Do you have a thing for blondes? First Cindra, then Cythnia. Or was it the other way around? I could never tell."

I walked slowly around to the other side of the bed, my palms raised and facing her. I let my cane dangle between my thumb and index finger.

"Sin… Please. Please don't kill her."

"Jacob, I'm not going to kill her… you are."

"What?!"

"You're close, Jacob. You're almost at my level. I've come to finish your training, but first, the girl must die."

I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

"Sin... I... I don't think I want to be like you anymore."

She turned to face me.

"Do you think you have a choice?"

She stepped forward. I stepped back. Any other action would be death.

I continued until my back bumped into the wall.

Sin raised her chin to meet my fear-stricken eyes.

"Look what they've done to you. You're a scared little boy all over again."

She grabbed my cane and tossed it aside. With her right hand, she pressed her knife into my left palm and curled my fingers around the leather-wrapped handle.

"Never forget. You were moulded by this knife."

She let go.

"What do you see?"

The fingers of my left hand were knit together like a winter mitt, the deformed flesh fusing with the knife. In the reflection of the crooked blade, a younger version of myself grinned.

"Myself... I see myself."

"That's right. The knife is an extension of your body, and you are an extension of the knife—joined together for one purpose: to kill. Now come."

She guided me to the side of the bed, her vice-like grip on the back of my neck. It lightened to a caress, running down to wrap around my wrist and move the knife over Isla's exposed neck.

"Now, I'll give you a choice. You can nick the carotid artery to make her bleed out quick or slash the windpipe to leave her gasping for air. I prefer the second option. It's slower."

I couldn't struggle. I couldn't move. I could only watch as the knife hovered closer to Isla's neck.

"Sin, don't make me do it..."

She giggled.

"Are you crying?! I thought I'd beat that out of you. Now, finish it, Jacob, before I get bored."

"Sin..."

"DO. IT."

My hand shook. Her grip around my wrist tightened.

"Fine! I'll do it for you."

"NO!"

I gasped, blinking myself awake. I was standing in our room, my body soaked in a layer of cold sweat. I rubbed my eyes with my right hand.

And with my left, I pressed my dagger against Isla's neck.

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