The dungeons were cold and dark.I walked through the stone corridors, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The torches on the walls flickered, casting dancing shadows across the ancient stone. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, a stark contrast to the beauty of the palace above. The walls were lined with moss and moisture, and the chill seeped through my robes, settling deep in my bones. The cells were empty, their iron doors rusted and worn. But at the end of the corridor, in the deepest cell, a figure waited. The cell was cold and damp, the stone walls slick with moisture. The only light came from a single torch, its flame flickering weakly in the darkness.I stopped in front of the cell.The figure looked up.Her eyes were hollow, her face pale and drawn. Her silver hair was tangled and matted, her clothes torn and dirty. She had been here for weeks, imprisoned by my orders. She was the last of my grandmother's followers, the one who had refused to surrender
Last Updated : 2026-09-07
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