Deep beneath the floating palace of Glimmereach—
Far below the grand halls, music, and celebration—
Lay the prison.
A place not meant for ordinary criminals.
Only for those who were meant to disappear.
Execution awaited anyone brought here.
The air was damp, cold, and heavy with silence. Dim lights flickered along the stone corridors, casting long shadows across iron bars and sealed cells.
Inside one of those cells—
Ron sat on the ground, his back resting against the wall.
His clothes were torn prison garments, his body marked with wounds and dried blood. His breathing was steady, but his condition was far from good.
In the adjacent cell—
Separated only by a thick stone wall—
Lia sat in the same position.
Back against the wall.
Facing the opposite direction.
So close—
Yet unable to see each other.
Both of them wore cuffs around their wrists.
Mana-restraining cuffs.
A faint glow pulsed from them, suppressing any power they tried to use.
For a while—
