Part One

The rust had completely destroyed the back half of the door's top hinge and crumbled the bottom enough that a hefty strike from the butt of Nadier's dagger broke what was remaining.

“I'm surprised no one caught on to us yet,” Ierba noted.

“We'll have to find where the footage is being transmitted to to know just what kind of security is in place.”

The dark elf was painfully aware that their ability to escape could be part of a trap. Even Trini's trust he was not yet entirely convinced of, though his gut proclaimed otherwise. But as long as they were stuck in The Arena, it seemed they had not much choice but to play the games of those who ran it.

“Well then,” Nadier said. “Shell we give this a test?” His aim was the alchemical lab.

Ierba shrugged. “Whenever you're ready. It's your butt on the line.”

The light mage's magic circuits glowed white. He flicked his wrist and a tiny hologram of Nadier lying down formed in front of the pygmy camera in direction to where the dark elf's bed was.

Nadier stuck the blade of his dagger out from underneath the food slot, checking to make sure the coast in the corridor was clear. Left and right, the outside was drastically different to the brightness of their cell. The smoothened grey of granite cave walls stretched on to a curve and disappearing from the reflection on the blade. With cryst torches between them, wooden doors lined the opposite wall at long intervals, none of which were opened. After the back of the previous patrol disappeared around the corner, the coast was clear. Given the last patrol just passed, they had another 5 minutes before the next comes into sight.

“Let's go,” Nadier got on his feet.

Ierba swapped over, squatting down to grab the edge of the food slot. With a heave he lifted the door and slowly pulled back. The lock was still in the frame, but that did not matter, for it had now become the hinges and the hinge side the opening. Quickly, Nadier slipped out the new gap created and Ierba swiftly closed the door behind him.

From behind the door, the knight jested, “Come home quick, honey.”

The out of character tone caused Nadier to shiver in disgust and he quickly moved away.

He followed Ratface's map in his mind. According to the dwarf, the guards patrolled in a clockwise shift. So long as he follow the corridor in that direction, he should not meet any resistance along the way.

Step by step he quickly walked, mindful that each print left behind be quiet as a whispering gale. A gentle touch on the heel and smooth transition to the balls of the feet were needed for a silent step, a useful technique for infiltration. Tricks he learnt from his assassin days echoed into his mind.

Hit the corner of a window for a quieter breakage.

The best places to hide is in plain sight.

It's good to be loud sometimes.

When cutting the neck, hold the head down to prevent blood splatter.

A body faced down will make you not frown.

Nadier shook away the dark thoughts. He was a different person, no longer bound to his past as a dark elf assassin. He made his choice long ago and while it had cost him plenty, a killer for loyalty or hire was not a life he looked towards retrieving.

Doors on his left were marked in his mind as offices and storage space. Those on his right were cells - spaced unevenly apart. He assumed the strange distancing of the prisons had to do with the cavern it was built around. But if so, the engineering made even less sense. The cavern they fought in was enormous, yet the circling corridor - given the angle - could not have a diameter of more than 100 metres before meeting itself at the end, and Ratface noted no more than five cells on the floor. The tunnel that connected their cell to the battleground had a slight slope. Nadier could only guess that meant there were more than one battleground cavern and not all cells lead to the same one.

“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” a voice echoed from further along the corridor followed by the creaky closing of wooden doors. “The cell's been empty for hundreds of years.”

“My friend, I'm telling you,” a female tone sounded. “There's something living inside. Why else wouldn't the boss get rid of it?”

Nadier stopped in his tracks. He could not continue until the guards moved on. He looked back to make sure the patrol had not caught up to him from behind either. Slowly, he crept around the curve of the wall until he could see the shadows of the two talking guards dancing against the stone. Leaning up against one of Ratface's marked storage room door, he prepared to hide himself within it should the situation called for it as he continued the eavesdropping.

The female guard continued, “I saw the boss's bodyguard go into it once. After a while, there was a scream.”

“The bodyguard?”

“Yeah! You know, the guy in the cloak? The one the boss sent to catch the sasquatch?”

“Oh, right. What's his name?”

“I don't know.”

“Wait, does no one know the guy's name?”

“That's not the point!” The woman exclaimed.

Their shadows flickered as they turned to move in Nadier's direction. He quickly opened the door which thankfully creaked only lightly and slipped into the dark storage. As his dark vision adjusted, his eyes landed on the barrels and crates of broken weapons and shields. Some were marked for the blacksmith while others junked together, likely to be scrapped instead repaired.

He leaned his ears against the door, hoping to continue to catch wind of the conversation. Their voices were a whisper through the wood and distance, but as the guards walked closer, their words slowly sifted into clarity with a slight jump in topic.

“...boss...man...the guard just goes into... and doesn't come out for a few hours when the boss calls for him.” the female continued. “Didn't that cell use to house some powerful mage?”

“That was hundreds of years ago. Now it's just abandoned. And I don't think the mage could be that powerful. It's on the ground floor. That's where the weaker gladiators are.”

“So what could be in there now?”

The male guard replied, “You think the guy has some slave locked up in there? Some weak ass gladiator he just took for his pleasure, tortures, then get rid of?”

“Wouldn't be surprised. The guy gives...creep...stand on...back.” The voice floated away.

Nadier waited in the dark for the whispers to fade completely. Then, he waited another 2 minutes counting under his breath to hear the next patrolling guard pass by. After pausing for a reasonably short amount of time for the guard to turn the corner, he opened the door slowly to peek outside. When the elf confirmed the coast was clear, he continued on.

As he made his way to his destination, he wondered about the topic the two guards were conversing of. It sounded as if they were referring to the single cell on the main floor which Nadier had pointed out. It was Ierba's cell in his memory, not of the one that he had been paired with in the present, but whatever past version that existed in the distant time period. And now, with the new Ierba being here and this talk of mysterious circumstances ongoing with the room, he was sure it was of no coincidence. But he was just testing the waters of escape for now and had not intention of searching further up at the time. He will though, as his gut was telling him it was where more answers would lie.

The door to the alchemical lab did not stand out from any of the others aside from a sign nailed into the stone above.

“Zen?” Nadier whispered and opened his coat for the shadow wolf to amble out. “Anyone inside?”

She sniffed the door as the dark elf warily watched their backs. After a third confirmation sniff, Zen stood back and spun around happily in a circle, tail wagging.

“Good girl,” he patted her.

Though he was still unsure of their history, the creature and him shared a bond that was deep enough that his muscles could trust her unconditionally. It was also obvious the wolf was highly intelligent and well trained, understanding almost any command. Nadier mused that if Zen had vocals, she might be able to speak.

He opened the creaking door to the lab and slipped inside shortly after Zen, closing the entrance behind them. The wolf immediately began familiarising herself with the scent of the room as he quickly began looting, though not indiscriminately. He was looking for any chemicals and equipment that seemed to be excess and unlikely to be missed, as well as small enough to fit the straps under his coat for hiding.

Of the things he found that fit those requirements were a glass stirring rod, a pestle missing a mortar, and half a dozen different vials of chemicals which he would examine closer later. It did not matter at the time what they were, just that those were what he was able to bring along with him. Zen trotted up to Nadier with a copper vial in her mouth. With a little modification, the vial would be a perfect fit for his daggers as an additional magazine.

He took the vial from her and, with an unfamiliar smile, scratched the wolf behind her ears. “Aren't you just wonderful.”

“I am, aren't I?”

Nadier spun around to face the door. He had not heard anyone open it and Zen had not reacted.

Trini stood there with an unreadable expression.