He patted Zavian's shoulder, his sign of assurance, and the King took a long look at the peacefully asleep Neera. Finally, even though he could feel the physical pain as he tore himself away from her presence, he moved with intent down to the dungeon. The anger that flowed through him felt like molten magma, burning through his veins with a vengeance, and he was going to unleash it on no other than the culprits.
The guards at the dungeon were fast to make way for Zavain's entrance once he reached there. Behind the bars, four men were beaten to a stupor, and if not for the occasional wheezing punctuating the air, they looked dead already. Bloodied and battered on the floor, they didn't even notice he was standing there.
"Are you ready to say who it was that sent you?" Zavian asked.
One of them, the one that fought back the hardest when they were caught, looked up to the King. He looked at his men, and gave a loud cough, blood sputtering from his mouth.
