Nadier took the salamander fang and began scratching out the measurements of the diameter of Ierba's spear. It was a weapon modification that they likely would have only one shot at using.

“What's your plan?” Ierba asked.

The dark elf replied, “You have the power, I have the knowledge. I'm creating an injection system with the fang to hold the flammable liquid the salamander has.” With the side of his daggers, he began carving out the fang into the required shape. “Those things are highly flammable with minimum oxygen. We're going to force a thermal fracture in that stupidly tough glass box from within.”

“Sounds complicated. Will it really work?”

Nadier set down his tools and looked up to their ceiling in contemplation. “It's a long shot. But it would definitely be the fastest way to reach At-Tro-Pos with the element of surprise.”

“And how are we going to get all the way up there?”

“I'll figure it out later. I always do.”

Ierba's brows raised sceptically. “Not very reassuring.”

They continued in silence for another half an hour, Nadier in deep concentration on his work modifying Ierba's spear. After finally carving out a sizable hole into the fang, he set one of his copper tubes to make sure the size was right. His next step would be to find a tool that could be used as a drill to turn the fang tip into a syringe as well as modify the copper cartridge to be compatible.

The door to their cell swung opened and Zen jumped off the bed, growling in a stance, ready to pounce at the intruders. Standing outside was Trini, flanked by two guards. One of the guards stepped in, a large drakin that was facially familiar to Nadier from his time in disguise. Nadier made sure to keep his eyes on him and not look over to the female sea elf in case he gave her away.

“You!” The guard pointed roughly to the dark elf. “The master wants to meet you.”

Even the trained assassin could not help but move a quick glance to Trini. “What do you mean?” Nadier asked.

“Huh? Are you deaf?”

The guard stepped forward as if to attack but Trini laid a hand on his shoulder. “Now now, that is no way to treat an honoured guest of my father's.”

The drakin panicked and stumbled back. “I'm sorry, Sik Trini!”

“My apologies, Wanderer. To show you my father has no ill will, I will escort you through the first steps myself.”

“Sik Trini!” the guards interjected.

“Alone,” she snapped gently back. “Or do you not think I can handle a lowly pit fighter with my own strength? Do not worry. My father is a forgiving man. I, on the other hand, am not.”

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“With all due respect, Sik Trini. Your father isn't a very forgiving person either.”

She laughed. “Well, you're right about that.”

The guards sighed and looked to each other for confirmation. After a moment, the human at the door agreed. “Very well, Lady Trini. Do keep yourself safe.”

Her smile to them was both genuine thanks and threat. “Come now, Nadier,” she spoke down to him. “Oh, but do leave the wolf.”

Zen whined from the ground, apparently understanding the words.

“Don't worry, girl,” Nadier calmed her with a run of his hand through her mane. “I'll be back, so stay with Ierba.”

The knight nodded back warily as he knelt down beside the wolf to pet her. Nadier turned his back on his partners and left with Trini. The guards stayed behind to close and lock the door as the two of them made their way to the stairwell.

“Where are we going?” Nadier asked en route.

“To meet my father,” she answered, her voice confused and annoyed. “Were you not listening?”

“I made a calculated guess.”

“Which would be?”

“If we were going directly to At-Tro-Pos, you wouldn't have gotten rid of the guards.”

She laughed, genuinely. “Yes, well, that's very impressive.” He found her voice musical.

“So, to answer my question?” He was adamant of not being charmed.

She nodded. “We're heading out to town first. My father's orders, actually. He doesn't appreciate...” She stopped at the doors to the stairwell and looked him up and down. “Uncustomary dressings in meetings.” She opened the door and headed up the stairs.

He followed with a stepping jog, looking over his clothing. “I know my outfit is practical but scratched up, but I do particularly enjoy this style myself.”

“I enjoy shade hawk eggs,” Trini replied nonchalantly. “However, I don't particularly find a need to find fashion inspiration from it.”

“Ouch.”

They made it back to the ground floor where a lesser crowd than their previous outing were scuttling around. Instead of heading into the centre of the arena, however, they walked to the opened exits, which were multiple panelled doors that were left open, allowing the cold outside wind to trickle in and ventilate the air. But the permafrost of the north felt different from what Nadier had remembered. It was still cold, but nothing of the freeze he knew. A few guards approached Trini, looks of worry across their face that she was walking out with him, but she swiftly dismissed them with a finessed wave off their concern.

The moment they stepped out, Nadier shielded his eyes. He had forgotten what the light of the Twins were like, and his eyes, having adjusted to the darkness, struggled to concentrate their gaze. But when they did focus with squinted lids, he found himself on top of a plateau - the size of a small state - above low clouds. Around them was a full-fledged town of copper and brick buildings with steam floating out of chimneys. A few glasshouses reinforced with copper struts served as greenhouses for plant growth, likely as a source of food. Birds flew close enough to them that flocked scrapped across roofs. Between each building were large empty roads of soft thin snow and dirt. The biting winds of the Tundra was stuck below the steep edges, leaving the highland cold, but not windswept. Turning around, he found his first true look on the arena. From where he was, two large domes stretched a quarter of the length of the plateau. He knew that behind were at least two more equivalently sized buildings.

Nadier noted, “This is not what I expected.”

“And what were you expecting?”

“I don't know. Mud Town. Maybe a compact slum like Edge?”

Trini scoffed. It was the first time he heard her sound genuinely disappointed in him. “This place is the centre of illegal activities on the planet. Over two million black market traders, slavers, drug lords, and unscrupulous sorts move their goods through here every single season. Even the farmers are required to have a wanted list. Outside of politicians, a more wretched hive of scum and villainy I have yet to see.”

He nodded in understanding, and, if he was honest, a little impressed. “Does this place have a name?”

"Of course." She stood up straight, tensed, a look of anger on her face. “Nyx, the Secret Capitol of Devara.”