There I was, stranded in a cold cell. Wrists bound with heavy manacles on which bluish glowing sigils were engraved. The only illumination I had.

It seems they were of the opinion that I did not deserve any form of courtesy, even if it was a simple torch. But then again… I had cost them dearly.

The chains that held my bindings to the wall were barely long enough that I could rest on the thin layer of hay they had given me. Not out of concern for my health of course. They just did not want a greyed old man to die from the cold. They had better plans for my death. That I still had my tattered robe was most likely also owed to that fact.

I had no idea how long I had been here now. Time starts to grow vague in such a place. The irregular and meager meal times were no big help either. After all they only needed to barely keep me alive till the execution and not well fed.

The first change in what felt like an eternity was a couple of heavily armored boots slamming on stone and the rattling of heavy armor.

They approached steadily and soon enough the door was unlocked, the sudden glare of light making me squint and I could only make out shadows at first.

Apparently my visitors had not quite been prepared as I heard a retching sound from one of them. Not being able to clean oneself comes with certain odors over the course of days.

“What a fitting state for a bastard like you.”

said a familiar voice and even in my sorry state I answered with a dry laugh.

“How is your boy, Marten ?” I said. “ Did he like the gifts I left behind? ”

I barely finished speaking before one armored boot slammed against my stomach with brutal force. As I slumped down coughing and wheezing from the pain the room was filled the sound of armors rattling and angry grunts as some people held the man back.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Your Lordship please ! You know the decree !” the others called out over and over again until he had composed himself once more.

“You might want to know that I was appointed to execute the judgement. ” Marten said in a cold voice. “Give me the antidotes for my men and I might lop your head of in one go with my sword. At least your death will then be honorable.”

“Ironic how a traitor speaks of honor! You are nothing but a scam, Marten, you and your entire order! ” I said and spat out towards the entrance. “My only regret is that it was your son that was afflicted and not you.”

That answer elicited some mutters from the other people present but were promptly shut up again.

“We will see, I have called specialists. They will be sure to make your last hours a spectacle for the masses,” he said with a vengeful glee in his tone. “Maybe then you will be more willing to talk.”

Abruptly he turned around, the door being slammed shut and locked before I could hear them walk away just as they had come, leaving me behind in my dim and cold cell.

Though I was alone not for long as a dull laughter filled the cell, as quiet as a whisper but still echoing in a bizarre fashion. It sounded as if it was composed by many different voices at once. A peculiarity I was familiar with as I had clashed with its owner a few times already in the past.

“They do hate you quite a lot, Keeper. ” said the voice in a whisper.

“Get it all out, Otarr,” I shot back in an annoyed tone. “And then leave me in peace. I have no patience for your antics today.”

“Ah but maybe you should have the patience,” he said in an amused tone. “That is if you wish to be free once more.”

This answer stumped me to silence for a moment. This was something I had expected the least from him.

“How? ” I asked suspiciously.

“That you will find out if you accept.”

“What's the hook?” I asked

“You will convert to my following and vanquish those who fell my sister.”

I did not need to think long about it and even felt a smile spread on my face as I said, “Sounds good enough. That is a deal I can take.”

The last thing I saw was the darkness itself warped into a clawed hand. It slammed into my chest and pulled something out as everything turned black.

The end of one story is the beginning of another.