She stayed a step behind her father as they made their way through the Wandering Spirits. One of the rooms was yet unoccupied and large enough to accommodate what she guessed he had in mind. With a clenched jaw and steady gate, his demeanor was passive. Nothing to tell her if he was still angry or disappointed. Probably both. But her weapons were with her, as were his and his armor. They crossed the threshold of the eastern suite, a room large enough to fit at least two carriages in, Nomad flinging his cloak aside after he'd closed the door behind them.   "I can't change the past," he started, tightening the straps of his buckler and lowering his visor. "All I can do is prepare you for the future."   Zora shrugged, a confident grin making its way to her lips as she anticipated the upcoming lecture. "I'm prepared, dad."   "The fuck you are," he said one moment, then was gone in a puff of dark smoke the next. Just as quickly, he rematerialized behind her and sent her sprawling with a lowered shoulder and charge that held the focused might of years of training.   Zora reoriented herself and rolled with the hit, gracefully finding her feet and readying her rapier and dagger. "So much for your 'honor,' dad. That's a nasty trick."   He leveled his blade and stalked toward her. "I know you're not that stupid, my daughter. If Lirelle trained you, you've dealt with worse tricks than that."   Her grin turned to a smile as she quickstepped toward him, a rapid series of thrusts from her rapier halting his advance and shifting him to the defensive. His buckler thrummed with each strike, turning the attacks aside as he countered, Zora's dagger deflecting his sword that she might resume her advantage. Relentless in her assault and determined to show her father she wasn't some helpless child, her attacks intensified as she began to dance and twist around him, her blade striking from every angle to find her opening. However, the opening never arrived. Nomad held his ground with each attack, Zora gracefully moving in circles around him, countering deftly and parrying just as elegantly, yet that was all. They parted from their engagement, Zora rolling her shoulders back as she readied herself for another clash.   "Not bad," her father noted, his composure as unflinching as it was before they started. "You think it's enough?"   "Probably not," she snapped back, "but what would be to you, dad?"   "Whatever keeps you alive!"   Nomad charged ahead this time, blocking her countering jabs and closing the distance with sweeping strikes from his blade. Zora backpedaled until she hit the wall behind her, then only barely avoided a blow that looked like it would have taken her head from her shoulders had she not ducked. Her dagger fired out next, the shorter blade an advantage with her father's aggressive advance. Nomad's buckler blocked strike after strike, and only when she somersaulted over him did she gain any distance between them. Distance enough that she was able to throw her dagger upward and jostle loose a string of curtains that fell away, filling the room with temporary but blinding light. Zora knew to look away, but her father's visor couldn't keep the light from catching his eyes. She saw him flinch, then rolled to his left and out of his sight. He spun to find her, but already she'd moved silently behind him and closed in. Just before she could land her attack, her father simply vanished. Where once he'd stood, there was nothing more than empty space. Zora knew better though, and fell back quickly to avoid any further harm. Sure enough, she heard her father's heavy footfalls, Nomad unable to mask them under the burden of his armor and bulk.   "Another neat trick, dad," she complimented. "Even I can't disappear entirely."   He reformed before her, weapon lowered for the first time since their engagements and noting the scratches on his armor where she'd nearly managed to land a strike. "You think I'm the only enemy that can?"   "Look, dad, enough all right? I get it, you're mad at me because I lied to you, but that-"   "I'm not mad because you lied, Zora." He calmed himself, then sighed. "I'm mad because you felt you had to. And now...now I can't change what I've taken from you for it."   She blinked, the tension in her shoulders draining from her. "You didn't take anything from me."   A helpless chuckle escaped him. "The fuck I didn't. If this is what you wanted, what you always wanted for all these years, and you felt you couldn't talk to me about it, then I took something from you. Trust."   Her brow furrowed. "I'll always trust you."   "But he you didn't talk to me, my daughter, and it was because you knew I'd be angry or disappointed, and that's my failing as your father. I'm angry, sure. I never wanted you caught up in this life, but after your mother died..."   She sucked in her breath as her father lost his. Both of them knew that this subject was seldom broached, for there was only pain there. Her father carried an unspoken and relentless burden for not being there when Orianna had passed. She knew the guilt he felt over it. Leaving her to go on far-away missions for the Zhentarim had only grown more painful for him year after year, and she'd truly hoped she could keep her activities a secret until the time was right. Nearly dying wasn't the ideal way to disclose her efforts to him, and now she too started to feel a sense of guilt for the failure he perceived within himself.   "Dad..." she started. "I know you're trying your best. You don't need to justify anything. I guess I did what I did and have been doing what I've been doing because I didn't think we'd ever find that lasting peace you hope we will."   Another sigh escaped him as he shook his head. "There's always hope, Zora."   "Let me put it another way. I didn't think I'd ever live free of the conflict, however hard you tried or hoped I wouldn't. And I was done watching you take this on alone. Maybe mom could, but I can't."   She noticed the almost imperceptible twitch in his form, the one even his layers of armor couldn't conceal as he fought to steady his breathing. She'd rarely seen him do it. That mannerism was one her mother could pull from him with one touch or a single word, spoken or done at just the right time as only she knew how. But it calmed him, Zora knew. It brought him clarity. It made him feel loved and recognized, the world less heavy for him not having to carry on alone as he'd done for years.   "For what it's worth," he resumed after a time, "Lirelle taught you well. So did the others who had a hand in your training."   Zora smiled, blushing. "You've learned a few new things yourself, old man."   He lifted his visor, laughing off her veiled compliment. "You do know what this means, right? They may not be my old enemies, but they're fiends. The Black Network and Xanathar's...they may not be your enemies yet, but-"   "No, I hear you, dad. They're my enemies too. Anyone who comes after you comes after me. I'm not budging on that. Nor am I forgetting how deadly some of them can be. I haven't forgotten what you've told me."   He sighed again, but smiled through it. "You listened a lot better than I thought you did. Good girl."   Her smile was wide and genuine, lasting through his approach to the deep and powerful hug he wrapped her in, Zora returning it with fervor. He held her there for a while, then pushed her to arm's length and, at least Zora felt, admired the woman she was becoming, even in spite of his best efforts. She wouldn't say it, but she knew it was because of his best efforts.   "Well?" she said at last. "You seen enough?"   He nodded. "For now. There'll be more later, and we'll probably be working together on this moving forward, so you're not done yet."   "Maybe. Guess we'll see what my orders are moving forward."   "Those are your orders."   "Says who?"   "Says your Wolf." He held out his insignia, the notation of his rank now visible to her as he turned it over.   "Well shit," she muttered with a smile.   Her father smiled back. "Well shit is right."