A creak jostles Romulus awake bringing him back to the room that surrounds him. He hadn’t even realized he’d nodded off. How long had he been sleeping? How many hours had passed? Time seems to elude him in this hollow space.

More creaks follow as someone approaches from the spiraling stairway. Romulus straightens his back awaiting someone to come into view, but a scent hits him first causing his stomach to gurgle. The smell of chicken wafts into the space as an unfamiliar face rounds the last step.

The man has a large build, not a hair on his head, his weight alone causing the room to shake as he moves. Romulus just stares with eyes wide, not sure what to make of the man as he moves close. Romulus skitters to his feet and moves away as much as the slack of the rope would allow.

The man lets out a gruff sigh as he sets the bowl down and approaches Romulus once more, “You want to eat do you not?” He pulls a knife from his side before grabbing Romulus’s wrist. 

Romulus tries to pull himself from his grip but fails, his toothpick arms not posing much resistance. Romulus stares in utter bewilderment as the bulky man cuts the knot, retying just as quickly to one of Romulus’s wrists. “Why’re you-”

“You need at least one hand to eat,” he curtly replies. He places his knife back on his side then steps away, “It’s chicken broth.”

Romulus eyes the bowl suspiciously, it could be poisoned but his stomach speaks louder than any of his speculations. His eyes narrow at the bowl with its savory aroma.

The man makes no more comments before leaving Romulus by himself once more. There was more sound above him, small thumps echoing from the ceiling. Was it day time already? Were people waking up? Numerous footsteps kept rattling above him.

A sigh draws out of him, it was pointless to question such things. None of that would help him now. 

He reaches his free hand out to grasp the bowl, he sniffs it still not fully trusting of whatever it contained. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, no weird smell at least, he hesitantly brought it to his mouth before sipping on it. His throat stinging, How long had it been since I’d eaten anything? Or drank anything for that matter? He remembered all the times he’d fed his stead, but himself…

He can’t recall.

The broth tastes fine, nothing extraordinary but it felt like heaven as he gulps it down. His throat feeling scratchy, the broth soothing its rough edges.

Before he knows it, the bowl was empty and he was heaving from gulping it down so quickly. Unsurprisingly, he is still hungry but there is nothing he can do about it. He drops the bowl unceremoniously, the wood clattering to the floor as he leans back against the column once more.

If it were poisoned, at least his stomach had something. The vessel lurches, his stomach lurching in turn, the broth trailing back up his esophagus. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing after all.

He chokes it back down.

It had maybe been twenty minutes if Romulus had to guess since the visitor had left before he returned once more. The room shaking under his weight is what confirmed who it is to Romulus. 

He makes a point not to look at the man, not like he’d be here long. Or at least that’s what Romulus assumes. It is pointless to speak to anyone here, they were all atrocious for abetting Varian either way.

“Get your fill?” The man picks up the bowl without even so much as casting a look in Romulus’s direction.

Romulus’s eyes narrows but he didn’t dare utter a word in response. 

A gruff sigh escapes the bloke, “Forgive me for asking but why are you here? It's rather idiotic to stowaway like you did.”

Eyes still narrowed, he straightens from his slumped posture. “I don’t see a need to explain myself to you.” All that earns is an eye roll from the man. “Why do you care anyways? Afraid I’ll do something to your captain?” He lowers his voice to a mumble, "Like it could be any worse than what that man has done to others.”

The man flinches at the last sentence. “He-” he gulps but stops himself. “Those people deserved it.”

A string of fury pulses in Romulus’s veins, his voice raises “No one deserves to die like…” The words die on his tongue. ‘Like livestock’ the words reverberate in his skull, unable to escape his throat. How could he justify the death Varian left in his wake? The thought utterly repulses Romulus.

The fellow’s shoulders drop, finally meeting Romulus’s gaze. His face had softened but he seems at a loss for what to say. “I’m sorry,” is all he manages before his back turns to Romulus with bowl in hand.

He doesn’t want apologies, Romulus wants a reason. Something to explain all the pain that he’d had to persist through. An apology wasn’t going to bring his brother back. An apology doesn’t wipe the slate clean. It can’t fix the part of him that broke that day. He clutches his chest, his heart feeling as though it would jump from his chest at that moment. It pounds in his ears the memory of his brother’s empty eyes flooding back.

His voice feels hoarse, “Screw your damn apologies.”

The man doesn’t reply as he vanishes up the stairs, the sound of the door closing resounding from the stairwell.

Romulus wonders what the man’s deal was. The way he could say ‘they deserved it’ so easily, irked him. How could anyone decide what justifies another death? His chest felt tight recalling his own mentality, he wants Varian dead after all. Hipocrate.

It isn’t the same, is it? He has a reason, Varian killed inexplicably. No one could compare them. Right?

Doubt fills him, his chest grows tighter.

Romulus did his best to try and dismiss his trail of thoughts. He can’t let his resolve waiver.. Not when he has closed in on Varian. He was closer than he’d ever been prior. He cranes his head in his untied hand, why was he wasting time like this? He had a free hand now, maybe he could undo the knot this time. It definitely wasn’t as tight as when Azeral had originally done it.

If he did though, where would he go? He could hide on the ship somewhere but he would undoubtedly be found.

An idea strikes him. Varian would be visiting later that night, maybe he could untie it later on to get the element of surprise on Varian? It’s not like he’d leave the room, just hide against the wall by the staircase.

Romulus isn’t sure it would work but it beats doing nothing and biding his time there.

Footsteps hit the stairs again, snapping Romulus back to the present. How often were these people going to check on him? He didn’t want to see that bulky guy again either. 

The figure comes into view after a few moments, familiar dark brown hair around the girl's face.

“I will never understand people who stowaway. But you, you wanted to see dead bodies.

Romulus pulls himself from the column to his feet. Isadora had a tight frown on her face, it made sense but Romulus couldn’t care less about her anger. Not when all those questions are racking his brain. 

“You clearly saw them,” he spits.

She folds her arms and scoffs, “Not like I wanted to, but you did. And then you sneak onto my boat, why?”

Romulus knows he doesn’t owe her answer, but he still pitied her for having to see it. “I-” He starts, unsure of what to say. She was obviously determined to get an answer, but what was one that could satisfy her? He can’t give himself away after all. “Curiosity.”

Her brows knit tightly together, “CURIOSITY? That’s sickening! You can’t be serious can you?” He remains silent but he still feels bad for lying to someone who he could empathize with. “You’ll be stuck down here awhile, I will personally assure that. No sane person wants to see death so closely.”

“You’re captain does,” he snaps back.

She turns her gaze to the floor, “You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know he’s killed many, left bodies as husks of themselves without so much as even a whiff of remorse.”

She glares at him with a wrinkled nose, “How would you know? How would you know anything besides the stupid tales that circulate, there’s more to this than you could possibly understand.”

“Then please regale me with your ‘reasons’,” he hisses.

“I can’t.” Her teeth clench.

Romulus narrows his eyes, “Then you’ll have to excuse my rudeness. I can’t understand you if you tell me nothing, not like there’s anything you could say to change my view any way.”

She leans against the frame of the arch to the stairs, “That look you gave me at the dock, when I stopped you.” He raises a brow, “You listened when I told you not to go up there so I thought you might listen again but you’re too stubborn for that it seems.”

A scowl flits over his face, “Well excuse me for not understanding a person who can aid someone after seeing the atrocities that follow.”

Her face falls, “I was saved by those atrocities!” His eyes go wide, what? His mouth hangs open for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Not like I can explain it to you. You wouldn’t get it.”