Somehow, Nadier made it back to his cell, though he had to get rid of his guard outfit as the blood from his injury had soaked through the leather, ruining its purpose as a disguise. Langsley's attack had triggered something in his memory addled brain, and the flashes to his past as Arbor felt jumbled at the fore, building a pressure for release, giving him a slight migraine. Hopefully, at least one thing can go right and Ierba would be able to treat the damage to his eye. He at least needed to regain depth perception.

“No matter the pain, you have to keep your eye open,” Ierba instructed, his two fingers prying apart the lids of Nadier's injured eye.

The dark elf answered with uncertainty. “That sounds terrifying.” His eye was wet from blood, negating any real need to blink. The Wanderer found himself stroking Zen's fur, though the action seemed more comforting for him than the wolf with her head on his lap. The fact that he could see no more than blurred lights out of the damaged cornea negated whatever sharp uncomfortable sting that came from brightness. “I thought you're a healer?”

“Barely. And I'm not exactly a surgeon either,” Ierba admitted, examining the extent of the damage with frustrated sighs. “I was trained by my wife. She's the best light healer in the world, but I never picked up as fast as I'd hoped.”

“I don't believe it.”

“I'm a strong fighter, just not a strong doctor.”

“No,” Nadier corrected. “I don't believe you have a wife.”

Ierba tightened his grip on the dark elf's face. “Smartass.” He leaned close to get a better look at the damaged iris, their nose barely touching. “I think I got it. Though I'll warn you again, I've never worked on elves before, and I don't think I can fully restore your sights. If the damage naturally heals fully before we get you to a proper surgeon, any injuries will likely stick.”

“I told you, it's better than nothing right now. It's not as if we have a lot of other options. I just need to regain some depth perception to fight.”

“Alright. In that case, whatever happens next,” Ierba forebodingly gave his final warning as he placed his palm over the damaged eye, covering Nadier's vision in darkness. “Don't blink.”

“Ow!” Arbor yelped with pain as the needle pierced his skin.

“Enthes has to ask you not to move,” Enthes reminded. “Else she might just pierce you in the eyeball which, while her wife would adore, does not bode well for her well-being on this mission.”

Zen whined beside him, the young shadow wolf uncomfortable with the sight of her partner in pain. “It's alright, girl.” Arbor stroked the beast.

He then grimaced through the next set of stitches, careful not to let his pain show. The cut had narrowly missed his eye, but was still deep enough that he required treatment for it to heal. Suffice to say, the previous battle had not played out entirely in their favour.

From the other side of the room, Raven chimed in. “It's your own fault for rushing in.”

“Wouldn't have to rush in if you could just do your job!” he snapped back. “Where did you get this suture kit from anyway?”

“Lady Trini bought it for Enthes,” Enthes answered.

“When was that? I don't remember seeing her.”

“The lady came by while you were still unconscious.”

The last time they had spoken was when Atro had asked for him. He had attempted to assassinate the arena master back then but failed when the man simply retracted the blood back into his veins and closed the wound. The dark elf and sea elves had not spoken since.

“Did she say anything about me?”

“It's not all about you, you cur,” Raven retorted. “She updated us on the situation. She's spread other copies of the master keys. Aramas is overseeing his gladiator network in the other arena, but our side will still be the most well-numbered when the day comes.”

“Remind me why we have to get beaten up to pass the keys around? Can't Trini just open the cells herself?”

“It's too risky for her, weren't you listening?” Raven reprimanded. “If she gets caught or if the plan fails, she gets killed.”

“So we take the risk on her behalf?”

The dwarf shrugged. “She did pay us.”

There was not much time left. Another season and their agreed upon time would come. The more powerful gladiators they manage to recruit to their cause, the easier the upcoming confrontation against Atro would be.

“Argh!” he yelped as Enthes yanked the last stitch tight. With a deft cut of a blade, she severed the string from the needle.

“There, she has finished. It will leave a scar, so Enthes suggest hiding it with a tattoo after you leave if you value such frivolous things.”

He took a damp tower and began cleaning away the remaining strains of blood. “Don't you know, chicks dig scars.”

Raven placed two fingers in her mouth and imitated a gagging motion.

Ignoring the latter, Arbor took out a small leather satchel from his coat and unrolled it on his bed. In it were the cast iron master keys they had copied from Atro's office, along with a folded parchment of information on Atro's combat powers. The key opened not just the doors to the cell, but every single barrier within The Arena, which was a boon from having an overconfident micromanaging maniac in charge. Of course, if the key was found to have been copied, the system of having a master key would likely be replaced entirely. It was in a person's tendency to only fix a broken part when problems arises, and not a moment before.

“Only the strong and trustworthy can have the key, eh?” Nadier repeated the mantric instructions Aramas had given them on who to pass keys to. “And who are we to decide the loyalty of others?”

“We are the ones hired to do the job,” Enthes answered as she moved back to her corner of the room, snuggling into her partner's embrace. “And it is a mission Enthes is more than happy to accomplish. This place sickens her.”

Laid back casually, Raven thumbed, “I'm with her.”

“So money, morality, and love? Seems weak as positions, if you asked me.” His pessimism showed.

“But are those not the reasons why you fight as well?” Enthes asked as she ruffled Raven's golden hair.

“Money, yes. Not so sure about the other two.” He pushed aside all the used bloodied cloth and leftover wires unceremoniously onto the ground, clearing his sleeping area.

Raven commented, “We've seen the way you look at Trini.”

Arbor shrugged. “She's incredibly attractive.”

“And Enthes feels you are sympathetic to the plight of those trapped with us.”

“Well,” the dark elf answered mockingly, “Enthes would be wrong.”

He tucked his legs back into his bed. Zen scrambled for a moment, unsure what to do with his frustrated movements until he had settled down in a lying position. The wolf then circled over his body and tapped his stomach gently with her paws asking for permission. He stroked the side of her ear affirmatively, and she laid her head down on his belly.

In the next 29 days, they would likely have 5 more fights. If they are lucky, they would be able to hand off the remaining keys and build up their forces. Whether it will be one for all or all for one - Arbor will be the deciding factor. In 29 days, Arbor will have the chance to either kill a god, or become death.