He walks into her ten. It is set up like most other tents in carnivals and circuses. The inside is cozy and smells like incense; a rarity these days. No one uses candles or incense anymore, there are simply too many more practical ways to do things. Still, he smiles at the strange scent. He heads farther in. She is there sitting on the other end, surrounded by beanbags and a single old rocking chair. There are no lights or technological devices, but rather the space is lit by candles. She looks up from the book she is reading, managing to seem somehow surprised and calmy expectant at the same time.
“Welcome. Take a seat please.” She says. Her voice is soft, and it reminds him of one of those old acoustic guitars people used to play. He avoids looking into her eyes and keeps his head low. He takes a seat in the rocking chair.
“So....” he says cautiously.
“So, shall we get to it? I’m-” she begins
“You’re miss Alice White, I know; you’re an impossible person to find.
“Yet here I am, found.” She says smiling bitterly.
“My friend told me you’re the last person on this side of the planet who can speak the truth.” He says bluntly.
She shifts in her seat calmly.
“Did they? Well, I don’t know if I am the last, but if your sources are correct then I suppose I am not.” She says flatly.
“I suppose so.”
They sit in silence for what feels like hours, and she seems perfectly comfortable with it. He on the other hand...
“My name is Peter, I-”
“That is irrelevant. Names are of no concern to me. Today you are someone here with me, tomorrow you’re not. Keep the lying to a minimum, shall we?”
He laughed dryly at that.
“A slightly difficult request for me considering you’re the last truthie in the world.” He says, receiving a frown from her in response.
“I don’t believe I am the last. Long ago we Truth Tellers were the common kind, and you were referred to as Liars.” She says.
“Yes, but that was an eternity ago, now liars are the entire population, and no one speaks the truth.”

“Perhaps...Then again nothing is certain these days, in my opinion.”
He frowns at her with amusement.
“How strange you are.” He says, and this time she is the one amused.
“That is an opinion. An opinion from your lot is a welcome rarity.”
“Yes, but an opinion is as simple as any complication.” He replies grinning.
“Of course.” She said, and he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “After all there is so much confusion of how much truth is really in an opinion that it is difficult for it not to be deemed a lie.”
He doesn’t answer to that.
“So why did you come see me?”
“Curiosity.”
She tilts her head in a catlike motion of amused interest.
“Your conversations... so complicated. You speak naturally, but you do so in a world where it is physically impossible to tell the truth. But I believe the lines of truth are blurred. Everything you say, even when it is honest, must be said in a manner that is not literally honest. It’s enough to give me a headache. It repels me quite honestly. Then again that’s probably why I live alone in a secluded tent.”
He smiles.
“So how do you do it? Tell the truth? Where you just born that way?” He asked.
She smiled at his question.
“I simply never told a lie. It’s who I am. Everyone else was born with the inability to speak something that is entirely truthful. Society evolved into one of half true statements, questions and a fair share of sarcasm. Me? I was born with the inability to say anything that is not truth. It’s all a complicated matter, really; determining what is true or what is a lie, or what is simply not entirely true.”
He leans forward in his seat, eyeing her with fascination.
“Can you teach me?” he asks.
Sitting back in her own seat, she takes a deep breath. Her expression is unreadable, and her posture is too casual to mean anything. He struggles to try and identify a reaction, but he can find none. Of course, after living her entire life unable to deceive, she has to have practice in concealing the things that words do not reveal.
“Well?” He’s getting impatient. After traveling so far to come find her, he needs to know if she can do it. He needs to know if there is a way to bring truth back into the world. All that he needs is an answer, because whatever it is, it will be definite. If she is aware of the agony her silence is causing him, she does not show it.
“Can I teach you? You mean, can you learn? Can we change the way everything is to the complete opposite?”
Her expression changes, and again it is impossible to interpret. Is that hope in her eyes? Is it dread, or concern or excitement? She leans forward in her seat, her intense gaze fixed on his.
“I don’t know.”