The shackles are tight and cruel against Mircea's skin. She struggles to regain her posture, but it only steers the soldier standing behind her to shove her on her knees. The pain is excruciating-her whole body is crying.
Hot tears flow down her face, "Well, what do we have here?" A familiar voice echoes in her ears. She tries to see who it is, but the sun blinds her eyes, making it impossible to make out the person's face. "Let's get started." She commands.
Mircea meets her father's eyes; his wrinkled skin glistening with sweat as some soldiers push him. "Father…" She gasps. She realizes how old and powerless he looks. His human body has deceived him with time.
"Oh, do not take long." The same voice drawls out.
