Ivan could already hear the wails emmanaiting from the cell, located in the dungeon, a dark and decrepit place but one that wasn't exactly the average filthy, rodent-infested cesspit that most people would envision. Its cleanliness was most likely attributed to the fact that the castle rarely had prisoners, crime wasn't exactly high in this area of the country.

The wails continued and increased in noise as Ivan grew closer with every footstep. He could now make out what the idiot who was chained up was screaming.

"Let me go! This can't be happening! No, it can't be happening!"

It seemed an aura of disbelief still clouded his judgement. Who could blame him? 'Dragon's bile' apparently had an almost 0% survival rate, its lethality and rarity contributed to the high price it went for, so when put into play, a person would get every penny worth of what they paid, assuming it brings the desired outcome of course. For ill-fated Walter, this exact situation had occurred and now he rested in a dungeon cell, where he would most likely rot for a quite a while. 

"He should be dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!" He continued.

He was correct, Ivan should be dead, the poison should have seeped into his system and made him cease to be. But the power bestowed upon him which granted Ivan immortality had decided otherwise. He had owed so much to his inability to perish, no, rather he owed so much to this friend of his. Ivan had no idea who this person was, whether they were in actuality his friend or not remained to be seen but they had gifted him a great boon and for that he was grateful. Still, the day in which he would encounter this friend was yet to come to pass, but just like how he swore he would catch the assassins who killed the king, he would unquestionably meet his benefactor.

Eventually he came to the cell door, a barrier of rustic bars and blood stains. This room in particular was the most grimy and unwashed room out of all the others, most likely because it was the torture chamber. Ivan remembers Andrew being very upfront and adamant about removing the 'useless room' as he called it, however his father had always decided to keep it, and good thing he did, situations like this required pain in exchange for information.

A guard inserted a key into the keyhole and opened up the door with a shrill sound as if a mouse was dying. Ivan took his first steps inside and peered down at the shirtless man, cuffed to a wooden poll, jutting out from the cobblestone ground. His back was bleeding and a pained expression was engraved onto his face.

"How!? How!?"

Ivan knew what he was referring to, he felt no obligation to answer the pathetic man at his feet but did so in the efforts to entertain himself, "I already told you, I am above death itself."

"That isn't an answer!"

"Well maybe if you opened your dirty peasant eyes you would be able to see one such as yourself could never hope to kill me."

Walter stared in disbelief, his head sank with an aura of forfeit, most likely due to the pride of Ivan, he saw no hope in convincing the prince any longer.

"Please, let me go."

"After everything you have done, you think I will just unloose your shackles?"

"I had no choice."

Ivan feeling like the man deserved pointless penance for his crimes, commanded the torturer, who stood beside him, to whip Walter. The torturer complied, raising his arm and swinging it down with tremendous force and punished the assassin as if he were God smiting the sinners of the earth.

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" He screamed as the whip and his back connected.

"That is one in a long succession if you do not answer my questions truthfully."

Walter murmured what sounded like a response but he was too busy trying to hold back the tears to formulate any sentence.

"First question, why do you want me dead?"

"Grgh," Walter sobbed, clenching his fists.

"Whip him."

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

"Answer me, why do you want me dead?"

"I...I was told to kill you."

"By whom?"

"I don't know, a man in a black robe, he just...said I would be paid 500 silver pieces...for giving you the 'dragon's bile'."

"Did you see the man's face?"

"No."

"Whip him."

"Wait but I...aaaaaaahhhhh!" Screamed Walter, "what did I do?!"

"So you were paid by a strange man to assassinate me with 'dragon's bile', I already have a pretty good hunch who orchestrated everything, but now I want to know who you are."

"Huh?"

"Whip him."

"No! Aaaaahhhh, why dammit?!"

"It is to assert my authority, for all I know, you could be lying to me."

"I'm not!"

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"Most likely, but enough of your stalling, tell me who you are."

"I already told you, I'm Walter Argon."

"Whip him."

"Aaaaaahhhhh!"

"I do not know who Walter Argon is. You do not seem like the average carriage driver, especially considering the fact that you can use magic."

"My...past is none of your concern."

"Whip him, twice."

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhh!"

"Tell me."

"Screw you."

"Whip him thrice."

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh! Aaaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaaaahhhh! Please stop! I'll tell you."

"Go on."

"I'm nobody special, just a simple man from a small village, grew up in a blacksmiths."

"That does not tell me what I need to know."

"Goddamn you! What do you want!?"

Ivan tired of repeating himself nodded at the torturer, and thus, the whip came down upon Walter's back."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh."

"Tell me everything about your past."

"Okay! Okay! After over a decade living in the village, we moved to the city hoping to get more business. It was at this point I joined up with a gang called Morta, little did I know they were the largest criminal syndicate in Atheron. I learnt how to use magic from the some of my friends."

"I see, then you became a carriage driver."

"Yeah," said Walter averting his gaze.

"That is only half of the story is it not?"

"What do you mean?"

Ivan began turning his head but Walter intervened, knowing what would come.

"Okay! I'll tell you the rest. It was some time during my life as a member that I met a beautiful lady, she shone like the sun, she was an angel in disguise, I swear. She was friendly too, helping me sort my life out from the drunkard I was then. In due course we fell in love. Happiest days of my life. But Morta had other plans, they kidnapped her, killed her, and there was nothing I could do about it! I tried to exact my revenge but it failed! I only got a couple of them but angering an organisation like Morta isn't something you wanna do! I had to flee from the city, lay low, then after a while I became a carriage driver. I'm so goddamn poor that a piece of bread is a banquet to me! So there, that's why I tried to kill you! I need money! And I want others to feel the same pain I did! You blasted royals! Curse you!"

Ivan stood in silence for a few seconds before speaking, "This reminds me of one of my favourite poems. The first stanza goes like this...

My beauty incarnate, soul pure as snow,

Rushing water flows calm at your footsteps,

God doth fear to touch your sunlit hair, 

My beauty incarnate whom I lost to fate. 

I will try again to see your smile, my love,"

"What?"

"I am an appreciator of fine poetry but my, I almost became side-tracked. Whip him."

"Aaaaaahhhhh"

"I prefer not to be insulted."

"Damn you. You'll let me go now, right?"

"Sorry no, as tragic as your story is, you committed a heinous act of treason, so you may be waiting in this cell for a while."

"What! No! Curse you! Let me go!"

"A murderer is a murderer is he not."

Ivan walked out of the cell and down the corridor. He felt a slight sense of pity for the man but not enough to do anything so rash as to set him free.

"How unfortunate," he stated heading back to chat with more enjoyable company.

The day had passed by and now the veil of night enshrouded the land. Walter had been transferred to a different cell and laid on the blanket on the stone floor with his eyes wide open, his hands clenching the gashes on his blood stained back. 2 guards stood guard outside the door.

Gorvenal passed by the men on his way to his room further down into the dungeon. The guards bid him a good evening and carried on with their duty. Gorvenal paid them no heed and continued walking, coming to a corner.

One guard whistled, entertaining himself in his dull job. The other swayed his body to and fro ever so slightly. Both carried spears with sharpened edges at the shaft and long wooden hilts, fashioned together by an iron ring.

More footsteps came from down the corridor. The guards looked to their left, anything was better than guard duty. But they got more than what they bargained for.

A man, average height, stood there, in a lengthy white robe, black outlines to detail where different parts were. A white hood covered his face. It wasn't only attributed to his unknown identity but he had an aura of danger around him. Not just danger, but death also.

"W...who's that?" One guard asked.

The strange man walked towards them, standing beside one. He raised his gloved hand and in the next instant, the man slammed the guard's head into the wall, crushing it. Bits of brain and skull splattered everywhere and blood smeared into the stone. The man had done so, so quickly that the other guard's courage deserted him instantly. Such force, it was like the power of a thousand men.

"Aaa...aaa...aaa...please," the guard snivelled.

The man approached, wind appeared out of nowhere, surrounding his arm. It flew with such force that pieces of the previous guard began to slowly move away from the man.

Almost as if accepting his fate, the guard charged at the man but only to meet a grizzly demise. Wind that dwarfed the power of a hurricane surrounded the man's entire body, and as the guard charged in, he got caught up in this wind and exploded into thousands of pieces. Blood and guts swirled around the man, flowing along with the direction of the wind. Squelching sounds filled the silent corridor as the chunks of human were broken down even further, finally ejected out toward a wall.

Looking up at Gorvenal who stood at the corner with an expressionless face, the man stared at him before Gorvenal turned the corner and departed.

Walter gawked at the sights and sounds of these events, unable to bear any strength anymore, he felt a sensation of vomit coursing up his throat. It was abruptly ended by a great wind blowing him back, slamming him into the wall behind him, causing the vomit to be pushed down forcefully. The bars on the cell broke and slammed into the wall along with Walter, some hitting him in the face with large amounts of might, causing his nose to bleed. He desperately tried to utter words as panic soured through his entire being but he was silent like a forgotten melody. As the man entered the cell room the wind increased dramatically, Walter was unable to even breath any longer. He thought he would suffocate to death but instead the wall behind broke and he was sent flying into what appeared to be a cave, although it was pitch black so seeing wasn't an option, only a dim light from the torches in the corridor illuminated the space in front of Walter. The wind converged into a whirlwind seemingly by default and the spinning, sent him into a daze of dizziness, and pain as his right arm and right leg were twisted beyond imagination and subsequently ripped off, just before he slammed against a rock, injuring his head, laying on the cold damp ground.

"AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!" Screamed Walter at the pinnacle his lungs could take.

It was difficult to see but the man approached again, his white rob swaying with his movements.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!"

The man approached. Walter could see one of his red eyes that glowed in the dark. They looked into his soul menacingly.

At last he spoke, "you have committed the greatest of sins and for that I shall punish you as seen fit," his voice carried no air of emotion, only a deep, slow voice that held true animosity.

"Heeeeelllp! Heeeeelllp!" Walter begged, tears streaming out of his eyes.

"One such as yourself does not get to speak."

In the next instant, wind flowed into Walter's mouth then retracted itself and ripped his tongue out.

"Aaagharrrgghhhaarghargh!" Blood gushing out of his lips, filling his mouth like a swimming pool.

"Retribution for your sins shall be severe. To do to you what you do to our lord."

Next with force like a tornado, two fingers plunged into Walter's eye sockets, scooping out pieces of retina and other parts.

"Arghaaarggghharrrrghh!"

"No longer shall life fill your vessel."

The man plunged his hand into Walter's chest, tearing out his heart then proceeding to crush it withing his palm.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, was all Walter could think as life began to drain from him. The tears did not end, the pain did not end.

Gelsey...my...love...

Were the last words Walter could think before he died.