They had left the dilapidated building behind them in search of something to eat. Both of them had realised soon that their discussion could wait for a more favourable time when their stomachs were full.

It would not have been a concern had they been in Raia or Nimit but Dales was another matter. It was a complicated city to navigate, divided so deeply by rank, that stepping foot in a wrong alley could lead to a severed head. And as outsiders, Lennox and Silas were both Sadis - the unranked, the lowest and ….as it was.. 

‘..No Sadis or Marchios are allowed on the road. It's Xaldes and above. Use the unmarked alleys.’ The sentry said in a tone, which had been clearly subdued on Lennox’s account. Silas was well aware that not only the tone but the action would have been more violent had he been unaccompanied.

But Lennox credited the man with no reaction.

‘Point us to the Arena.’ He simply commanded, in a voice that warranted no further argument.

The sentry visibly swallowed and gave them rough directions to the place. Despite the fear, he did not offer them passage on the path that Silas could see would lead straight to the arena. Lennox didn’t even ask him, as if he knew better. 

He turned toward the alleys and Silas followed. 

Silas had seen a glimpse of the opulent city from the square they had turned. The marble mansions sprawled behind manicured hedges, paved roads and the lush green sidewalks. Enchanted lamps hanging from wrought-iron columns lined the roads while enormous carriages with colorful satin curtains and carved exterior inlaid with gems and stones rustled down the path. During the night, it must look like a page from a fairy tale. 

The world however shifted as they further moved into the alley. Buildings were made of stones, marred by growing moss. Rusted iron bars stood for doors and the wares were laid out in the open by the hawker, sitting on the footpaths, they were meant to walk on. 

By God’s grace, people had been hurrying up and down the streets, mostly on foot. The passage left had been too narrow otherwise. The road was carved full of potholes and puddles. 

Silas had trained his eyes down on Lennox’s foot, stepping where he did. Lennox’s imposing frame saved him from a lot of unwanted bumps from not so friendly strangers. 

Soon they stood in front of a three-storeyed building that had been built like a honeycomb, more doors and windows than the walls. Lennox headed for one of them, where men had been standing on guard. But no one asked for their identities.

‘Why are we here? This does not seem like a place that serves food.’

‘No it doesn’t. It serves you coins which would then buy you food. Any gold bearing a Raian crest in Anguth could land you in dungeons if you are not authorised to carry it. Zenos is in no shape to carry us back right now and I am not in the habit of carrying Seals. There, it should answer all your questions.’ 

‘How does this place serve us coins?’ Silas came up with a follow up question and Lennox stopped in his tracks. They were still on the ground floor of the building that was nothing but a sprawling space crowded with pillars.

He turned to look at Silas, his brows a little raised. ‘Silas, What part of Arena and Coins do you find so difficult to connect?’ 

‘We don’t have arenas where we live. We are more cultured than that.’ Silas defended.

‘Oh so you do know what goes down in the Arenas. How old were you again?’

‘Sixteen. I am an adult.’ He said, proudly.

‘Huh’ Lennox replied, looking him up and down. A strange look passed over his eyes, so fleeting that it disappeared before Silas could comprehend it. 

Silas knew he was younger than Lennox but it could not be by much. Afterall, Zenos Archons were already at death's door by their late twenties, half mad and chained by then. Lennox seemed pretty sane most of the time, so Silas’s guess was early twenties. By any measure though, he did not have many years left. The realisation struck him hard in his guts.

Thankfully, they were walking again.

‘How do you know about Dale’s Arenas?’ Silas asked, trying to escape his own morbid thoughts. They had now been walking down the empty corridor toward the spiralling staircases in the back. 

Lennox hummed. ‘I have been here before. Years ago. But the place had been remodelled since then. Thanks to my mother.’

‘She donated for their cause?’

‘She burned the whole place down.’

Silas looked at Lennox and he was smiling, one that was touched by fond memories.

‘Why would She do that?’ Silas asked, genuinely curious. 

‘Leo started it all. He was always very fond of Seals and Charms. Could never resist the temptation of getting his little hands on them whenever he saw one that interested him. That day, he stole one from Mother. A powerful Seal that could open portals across Altea. Stupid Leo, ended up opening a portal to Dales in our room. Then freaked out and ran away.’ 

Lennox smiled, mischief dancing in his eyes. ‘I used to be a trouble magnet in those days. When I found the portal, I went ahead and started my tour of Dales. The first time involved a lot of fists and fractures. Imagine telling an heir that he was too inferior to even walk a certain road! I punched the man in his face.’ 

None of them could help laughing at the shared memory, their voices echoing in the empty space. Silas’s more than Lennox.

‘Leo had seen me going through, so the little snitch ran straight to the Archon - our Mother and told her what I had done. He still tells me, even now, that she burned brighter than the sun—raging, relentless—until her eyes found me, bloodied but standing, and only then did the fire in her calm. That day, I needed coins to tour around just like we do now and someone pointed me in this direction. To the Arenas. These are the soul and tradition of Anguth. No city thrives without one. That day, I had taken down two opponents and won a fat purse. No one was expecting a teen to round up Dales’ famous warriors and mages.. but then...’ 

Lennox added with a shrug. 

‘....that rubbed quite a few of them the wrong way and they decided to gang up on me. My mother arrived right at the moment.. and .. She was livid... She destroyed the whole arena, just to teach them a lesson for hurting her son. I had never seen her that way before, in all her brilliance and glory. I think I shaved a few years off her life that day.’ His voice dropped to a murmur, heavy with long buried regret and hurt.

Silas looked at him then—really looked. The fine clothes, the sharp tongue, the careless arrogance... they were all just armor. Because beneath it stood an Archon who bled like the rest, who walked through fire without ever calling it sacrifice. A royal by birth, but a martyr by choice. And for the first time, Silas wondered just how much of his pain Lennox had buried just to survive.