Xaih wasn't aware of how long she was waiting for another fighter to enter the room, but she considered her patience to be a virtue. She recalled how brash she used to be, and how much effort she wasted in using aggressive tactics. She almost lost her life because of it.

The sound of the door sliding open snapped her back into reality. She opened her eyes, as blue as ice, and stared at the man who introduced himself as Lysander. The name was familiar, but he looked like a stranger. Perhaps it was simply a common name, or maybe her memory failed her in this instance. Either way, he was worried about finding his way to a viewing room. If she was correct in her assumption, he wasn't a fighter meant to be in that room with her. Even if she wanted to help him, she could be of no assistance. She remained seated, hoping for a short conversation.

"I'm afraid I'd be just as lost as you. Have you tried retracing your steps?"

Obviously, it wasn't a helpful question, and she may have come across as less than inviting. It was her nature. Regardless if she knew this man from years before, she wanted to ponder very little on the subject. She had other events to prepare for.