Veracity (The Seven Cities Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

be a crude little thing, but Ruth is one of our village's best runners. She was heading back from town when the storm blew in. She found you in the road and came to get me."
    "I can't believe I was out for so long," I say, shaking my head. "Thank you for rescuing me, Ruth. I wouldn't have survived out there unconscious for so long. I appreciate both your attention and hospitality. I hope I haven't caused any trouble."
    "We typically wouldn't do anything to risk exposing us to the outside world, but my Ruthie has a soft spot for people in need," he says.
    "Why did Ruth say I'm not human?"       
    "Our people believe the actions of your people are inhumane, and therefore consider ourselves the only true humans left."
    "I have no idea who my people are, but I hope they aren't as bad as you think. She called me a highborn. Why does that mean?"
    He looks at me with a curious expression. "Don't you know where you're from?"
    I shake my head no, but offer no further explanation. He eyes me for a moment, and I can see the questions running across his mind. He finally bows his head in acknowledgment, and starts to talk in the voice of a true storyteller. Ruth scoots closer to me, and slips her little hand in mine.
    "My daughter calls you highborn because she believes you are from one of the cities. She made this assumption based on your pale skin and accent. Outsiders such as my daughter and myself tend to be darker because we spend most of our lives outdoors, and as you may have noticed, our native grammar is different than yours."
    "So having pale skin is a sign of being highborn. Why would anyone care so much about skin color?"
    "In the cities, pale skin is prized. The laborers and farmers tend to be the only ones with any sort of color, and even they work to prevent it," he says sadly. "It's a standard of their social hierarchy. The classes don't mingle regardless, but people with darker skin are all but shunned by even the lowest of the merchant class. It's not that they dislike the look of a tanned body, it is simply what it represents."
    "Meaning, darker skin represents lower class for having to labor outside for a living?" I ask shocked. "That is so cruel."
    "Yes, it is, which is why it is one of the many reasons my people do not consider yours worthy of humanity."
    I look down at my arm, amazed that so much of who I am can be gleamed from just a glimpse of my skin. This man seems to know more about me just by sight, than I know about myself at all. I suddenly become self-conscious sitting next to the tanned man and his child. Before I lost my memory, would I have looked down on them just because their skin is different than mine? It seems ridiculous, but probable. If I grew up in the city, it is likely that I was taught such beliefs, and held them myself.
    Ruth's father softly pats my hand, and I pretend it's because he is worried about my health. I look into his eyes, and I know he knows what I'm thinking. Casting my gaze down in embarrassment, I slowly withdraw my hand. What these people must think of me, and yet, here they are taking me in and helping me heal. They are kind to me despite their belief in my inhumanity. If I still had my memories, would I have been kind to them in return?
    "She don't have a mark Papa," Ruth chimes in, breaking the silence.
    Ruth's father tilts his head and stares at me with an inquisitive look on his face. I suddenly feel very much like a stray animal, some strange creature he has never seen before.
    "It's unusual for someone to leave the city young enough to miss getting a mark," he says.
    "What is a mark?"
    "You really don't have any idea who you are, do you?"
    "Not at all," I say.
    "A mark is a form of identification used by the city officials to keep track of their citizens," he says. "Much like branding cattle. From a young age, all girls and boys go to a school in the city. When they turn 18, they graduate and get their mark. It's a series of letters and numbers tattooed on the