A cruel repayment

On Preston’s orders, the two assassins dragged Ezra down two flights of stone stairs and brought him to the lowest floor in the dungeon. It had been built over two centuries ago, and the last prisoner who had been shackled here had died abandoned and alone.

This floor had never been used to keep any prisoners after the Great Elven War ended. The nobles in positions of power deemed it far too cruel and inhumane to keep someone in that oppressing darkness, even if that prisoner had committed terrible crimes.

Ezra was the first one in a hundred years to be taken to the old holding cell where dozens of poor souls had been tortured during the Great Wars.

The room was shabby and dark, and the cobbled floor was stained with blood. There were no windows here, and the only source of light was a small chink in the ceiling which illuminated a small portion of the room with a hazy glow.

The two assassins spread Ezra’s arms and legs tied his hands to the cuffs attached to the wall behind him, and