“What are you doing here?” Nadier asked.

Trini casually strolled across the small room, this time sporting another form-fitting dress, though a shade of cyan. She set down a bag at the door as her hand wiped the workbench as if checking for dust. She walked past all the places Nadier had rummaged over, stopping once to put upright a vial in its right holder that Nadier had misplaced. Then, she pointed up to the corner wall, where a pygmy camera - half covered by a cabinet - watched over them.

“Shit,” Nadier moved to hide out of the camera's sight.

“Fret not,” Trini reassured. “I had the room's camera turned off for now.”

Nadier looked to the camera and sure enough, the tiny glint in its eye was gone. “Who are you?” He asked, turning to Trini.

She shrugged. “Tri-Ni-Ty,” she answered. “I believe I introduced myself to you when we first met. It would do well for you to remember the names of those you've encountered.”

Annoyed, he replied, “That's not what I meant.”

“No. You were asking what I am to you, and who am I to Atro.” She paused, leaning bottom against the workbench. “I am Atro's daughter.”

Nadier simply stared at her. Zenith circled around his feet, as if confused on how she should act. After a moment, the wolf trotted over to Trini, sniffed her leg, and sat down comfortably next to her, waiting for affection. The sea elf granted it, squatting down to stroke the shadow wolf across the neck.

“Good girl,” she praised, before attending again to Nadier. “You don't seem surprised.”

“Not exactly a difficult leap,” he gestured to her body. “Your... elfishness. I doubt many of your race are still around.”

She raised brow. “Surprised?”

“A little. The sea elves went extinct over two hundred years ago.”

“Not extinct. We just left. Most of us, anyway. Went back to our capital city under the sea.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “We never received the message. Too far inland. By the time we knew, well, we decided to stay.”

“What was the message?”

She shrugged again. “I have no idea.”

He walked to the door, thinking if he should leave. “How many questions can I ask you?”

Trini looked to the camera. “Depends.”

It seemed she was not keeping him from leaving, neither was she forcing him to stay. Yet he could not help feel chained by the lingering time limit that had been imposed on them. It reminded him of the first time they met. Was that who they were to each other? Two souls locked in limited questions restrained by the minutes of their circumstances?

Nadier decided to play it loose with the timing. “Who is your father?”

“He runs this place, The Arena of Beasts, as he calls it. You might have heard of many names for here, which is to be expected. When something is as obscured and shrouded in legends as we are, people tend to give it undue mystiques.”

“And you want your father dead?”

She froze, midway through patting Zenith. She had not actually stated that wish, but she had been leveraged in their sessions of questions. He wanted to see how far he could push her for answers and to throw her off.

Finally, Trini answered, “What I want matters little now. Do what you need to bring an end to this torturous institution. If that means ending my father, so be it.”

He felt a tang of sadness from her reply. Something in her tone betrayed her yearning for her father to survive, but the hardened interior of her soul knew otherwise of the harsh reality required.

“What made you choose such a final step?”

“You,” she answered without a moment's pause or averting her smiling gaze away from Zen.

“What did I do?” Though he answered in the first person, he could not help but feel as if he was speaking of another long dead.

“That,” she finally stood up to a disappointed whine from Zen. “Is the question that drives you now, isn't it?”

She was not just smart, but tactical. The thin line that separated those who were knowledgeable and those who knew how to use those knowledge. If she had told him what he wanted to know, he might have one less reason to help her. Dangling the juicy carrot of curiosity in front of him drags him along her path.

“Well,” Nadier waved at Zen and the wolf returned under his cloak. “If there's nothing else you can tell me about my past, then I'll get back to my cell.” He pretended to reach for the door.

Wiping dust away from her dress, she calmly walked over, as if she knew his bluff of exiting their time together, leaving him hanging his hand awkwardly in midair before the knob. Nadier had never met anyone who could call out his lies so effectively and force him into such uncomfortable positions of lesser negotiating power.

She gestured to the bag she brought with her. “A gift.”

Warily, he opened the pack to find a guard uniform within, complete with cheap leather armour and an old iron short sword. They weren't things he'd use in battle, given his current armour and weapons being of much better quality. It had to be a disguise.

“Come on,” Trini egged. “Put it on.”

“Now?” he asked.

She double-checked the camera and sure enough, it was still down. “Shy?” For now, they were alone.

He was not one for being influenced. If he was easily insulted, he would have died a long time ago. But the tone in which she pushed him with got under his skin. It reminded him of when his brother would play his pranks. The kind of annoyance that only a level of familiarity could bring.

After allowing for zen to leave his coat, he took the outerwear off, followed quickly by his armour and bandoleer. He began removing his shirt, bringing it over his head and covering his face, blinding him temporarily. When the clothing left his sight, he was greeted with Trini standing directly before him, a hand on his bare chest. He wasn't well built for a fighter. Fit enough to stunt, but not overtly muscular in any physical aspect. Even within his old assassins unit, he was considered thin.

She ran a finger over a rip in his outer grey skin. “It's torn.”

“It's been a while since I had it refreshed.” The light from the room was itching his exposed skin, but he did not much mind it.

As he eyed her unreadable expression, she traced the tear up his neck and found his eyes. They locked gaze.

She said, “We should go soon.” Trini stepped away from him and allowed him to change while she continued to bond with Zenith.

The uniform was slightly larger, and the armour was too loose to be of much protection, but Nadier was not picky, even if the clothings smelled of sweat. He pulled up his scarf to hide his mouth, a pair of snow goggles for his eyes, and the guards' helmet for everything else. Unless someone was to closely examine him, his dark elf skin tone should not be easily visible. Nadier stuffed his clothes into the bag and Zen melded into the shadow within. He picked up the pack and without his coat distributing the weight of Zen, was at first surprised at how heavy the carrier was to hold onto but quickly got used to the weight as he slung it over his back, no heavier than something he'd travel with on long-distance journeys.

She left the room first and following a short second of silence, she knocked on the door to signal the all-clear. He left the alchemical lab to find Trini already walking a pace from him. He was a guard now, and thinking quickly of how to act as one, began walking a few steps behind her, acting as her protector.

They walked south to the stairwell marked on Ratface's map. As per his theory, he passed numerous jail cells, some noticeably empty, all facing in impossible direction for them to all lead to the same cavern. He tried to memorise their directions the best he could. Should a jailbreak be required, it would be best for him to recruit his fellow gladiators to the fold.

As they approached the tunnel that lead to the stairs up, Trini passed by a trio of guards. The three of them glanced nervously at her as she walked by. But as he followed, he was stopped with a hand on his chest by one of the three.

“Hey,” the drakin guard almost growled. “Where are you going? Patrols aren't dismissed yet.”

Before he could lie, Trini turned around and spoke, “He's with me. I've asked him to be my personal guard for the moment.”

“Due respect, Sik Trini, would not one of us stronger guards be more befitting of protecting you?” He gestured to Nadier's smaller frame.

She took a quick step forward and a sabre glimmered into existence in her left palm, its tip pointing sharply at the guard's neck.

“Are you questioning my judge of character? Or of my abilities to defend myself?” She looked to the symbol on his armour. “Captain?”

The drakin shook. “O-of course not! I simply worry! But if Sik Trini is confident, who am I to judge?”

Trini withdrew her blade which flashed away with magic. “Come along now,” she spoke to Nadier. “Places to be.”

Like a puppy, he followed, bowing his head as he passed his 'fellow' guards, not just as an act of supposed shame, but to further hide his skin. Nadier and Trini entered the winding stairs dug into cold stone that climbed up, cryst torch lighting the path with flat lights and unmoving shadows that gave way to slippery moss. The smell of cave dew hung in the air.

Once was sure they were out of earshot, he asked, “Where do you get these soldiers from? Mercenaries are not usually this... organised.”

“As you said, they are soldiers, not mercenaries,” she answered. “The tribes of Devara has a tendency to go into war with each other. When they strike peace, their soldiers have nowhere to go, and my father hires them.”

The journey up was longer than he had expected. He remembered being brought down to his cell blindfolded, but with his sense of distance and elevation skewed from then to now, he had trouble ascertaining how far up he had to climb. They passed two sets of doors built into the walls without care, the frame that held them dug roughly, angling oddly until the ground flattened out.

Finally, he spoke again. “Where are you bringing me?”

She stopped in her tracks, turned to face him with a heavy breath through her nose, her gills shaking as she did so. “To meet a fragment of our past, and someone you need to kill before we are done here.”