Marina had a decent amount of time to kill before the trial would start. Luckily, Trici knew a place. Or, rather, Marina did. She had always found it difficult to separate herself from her aliases, especially when she was tired, but it was Trici who knew of the café. Not her; not Marina. At the end of the day, she was just another identity, who knew things her aliases didn''t and who didn''t know things her aliases did.


    She continued- needlessly, as she was only thinking to herself- to try to create a difference between herself, Trici and all the others at any level other than the very surface as she made her way to 8th Street, towards The Shattered Egg, Trici''s- not her''s, she thought- favourite.


    There wasn''t a line between identities, no matter how much she tried to pretend.


    "Hey, Trici! Would you like your usual?", questioned the host, Nyx, a middle-aged server she had gotten to know quite well over the past few months. She’d been sent to the city-state to document the trial, but kept up Trici’s identity in place of Marina’s nonetheless. That, of course, includes interpersonal relationships. Though she might just be making excuses to herself to continue visiting the café.


    "...Trici? Hey, Trici?", Nyx asked.


    Oh. Right. Trici. Her. "Er, yeah. The usual, pleas, Nyx", she managed to say after a quick mental reset, "Is Table Five open?"


    "As always, for you, yes. Your drink will be ready in maybe five minutes."


    "Thanks, Nyx", Ma- no, Trici, said, sitting down, "Is there any chance I could reserve this table for around Noon? I''m bringing over some others for lunch."


    "Yeah, we aren''t too busy then; our lunch rush won’t have started yet. I can avoid seating others here without issue, and I can ask Mara to do the same."


    "Thanks, Nyx."


    "No problem! Anything for you, as long as you keep on coming back and buying stuff. And also so long as my bosses doesn’t get annoyed about me saving you a table. Upper management is scary. I''ll be back with your drink in a bit!"


    …


    Tria had turned into a creature of the night. They had stayed up much too late a few nights before, and the cost had been their sleep schedule. Two younger-looking adults, maybe a decade or so older than Tria themselves, had nearly run into them earlier, distracted, but in reality, Tria was so tired that they would have run into someone else regardless of whether the other was distracted or not.


    Regardless, they pressed on. Collapsing in the street wouldn''t do them any good now; the monastery had given them a job and Tria intended to go through with it. Tria continued onwards.


    They approached the assembly hall. To their dismay, a pair of security guards were blocking the entrance. There were maybe twenty people outside, speaking all sorts of languages- Tria caught some snippets here and there- that were gathered in clusters or sitting alone in the shade. They collapsed onto a small bench. Even though they didn''t sleep, just the rest of lying down helped.


    …


    By the time Nyx had finally brought Trici her drink, Marina had gotten her thoughts in order. Trici had met Aren and Quill and would see them from the audience at the council chambers once the bells struck at Nine AM. Trici had gone to The Shattered Egg and ''reserved'' a table with Nyx for lunch later today. Trici was going to have lunch with Aren and Quill.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Not Marina. Marina wasn''t the person here, Trici was. The coffee helped jolt her awake, and the distinction quickly grew.


    Trici was out the door, and the bill was paid to Nyx in full, within ten minutes. Time was running out, without her really having realised until now, if she wanted to get a good seat. She raced through the streets of Zeryzian on foot to get to the assembly in time.


    …


    The 3/4 Hour bells tolled out only a couple minutes after Trici reached the yellowish monolith. It towered over her and the nearby buildings. She could see one of the flags that topped each of the seven-sided building’s flapping high above, framed by the light blue sky.


    Nearby, an urchin was startled awake by the ringing. They stretched briefly, then clawed themselves off a bench they were lying comfortably on. The urchin meandered towards one of the grand structure’s gates.


    A guard or officer of some sort drew open the gates that closed the building off from the outside world, and shouted above the multilingual din. “Alright! Those of you who are coming to the hearings, line up”


    Some particularly eager members of society started shoving their ways toward the gates, causing the guard to add a belated “And stay orderly!”


    The homeless teen joined the others, now flooding into the area, and Trici got the hint to follow them. She ended up just around a dozen spots behind the urchin in line. One had to wonder what interest a street urchin had in international politics, but that was neither truly here nor there.


    Slowly, the line started filling into the chambers. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a precious few minutes, Trici got to a seat- her seat, now, for the next three days. A brochure that sat on the seat listed the speakers. She noticed the teen behind her diagonally, obviously fighting to stay awake.


    Quickly, she introduced herself to her neighbours. The first, was a timid Iridawali woman who quietly introduced herself as Oila Irith, was a 30-something-year-old who had striking red hair and matching eyes quickly and quietly introduced herself before averting her eyes, looking down at a thick binder that rested in her lap. She busied herself pouring through its pages, silently jotting down the occasional note.


    Conversely to Oila, the young man on her other side had no qualms talking to stranger. He sat just to her right got to introducing himself loudly to her. "Hi! I''m Mahir, Mahir Gethalt. I''m from Rathia, but I''ve spent most of my life here in Zeryzian or travelling. What about you?"


    Taken more than a bit aback by the man’s brazen attitude, Trici replied, "Arina- I''m from a village in the south, Orgi-on-the-Moor. I only came here recently though, not like you", the smiled pleasantly at him in turn, "Are you here to present, or just watch?"


    "A bit of both- I''ve got a job relaying the proceedings'' developments back to Raithas for a newspaper I do work for, but I''m to present at 7:00 PM today. You?"


    "I''ve got your time slot tomorrow. I imagine you want it to strike some sort of deal with us, given your homeland?”


    "Oh, no, no. While many there are distant enough from the front lines to not realise the reality about the dangers The Evil poses, and care more about money they''re losing to taxes that pay for the war effort than anything, the reports I see- or even bring in myself- have more than disillusioned me to any treaty", he clarified, "There''s one story in particular I''ll always remember. A monastery in Rathia had taken in one of them- Decaepta it called itself- and was found ravaged later, monks dead, and the demon, bloodied, in the centre of the grounds, looking north towards The Evil. That''s the one that truly pushed me over the edge, to the point where I couldn''t make any excuses, and I just had to face the truth."


    "Oh- that''s- haunting. Well, at least we''re together in this. I''m Trici, by the way", she replied. Think, Trici, Marina said within her, can we use him to help us? What to do? She pushed the thought, anlong with the identity, away. He was already on her same side; she didn''t need to push him for a desired outcome.


    Outside, bells tolled once, twice, nine times. The urchin snapped alert, clearly startled by the noise. It would be only fifteen minutes to the first hearing. She checked her brochure, which told her that the first speaker up would be Terys de Valen, a woman from Sterlir. She''d be up once those fifteen minutes passed. Scanning quickly through the leaflet, she found Oila''s slot, after lunch on the final day. Trici made a note to bring the list to lunch with Aren and Quill.


    …


    Tria couldn''t stay up, even though they’d just been awakened by the bells. It didn''t matter how much they tried. They slipped into dreams of the monastery, of Enas, of Epta, of all the others. Of all sixteen of the other children they had grown up- if you could even call it that- with.