Axel
The hall pulsed with excited energy. At the far end, seated on the throne-like chair, I remained composed, scanning the room and observing every interaction.
We all knew what was coming. The sound of the gong was enough to shift the energy in the room.
The execution.
Two warriors in black leather and iron armor stepped into the hall. Between them, a traitor was dragged forward, his wrists shackled, and face bruised and covered in dried blood.
The warriors forced him onto his knees in the center of the hall. He spat blood onto the floor and, despite the agony in his battered body, I saw the rebellious streak in his eyes.
I rested my forearm on the carved wolf's head of my chair, watching him.
"What is his offense?" Shahar asked, standing beside me.
