Lyan and his companions stood in the enclosed courtyard, the night air heavy with tension. The leader of the cloaked figures knelt in front of them, bound tightly with thick, twisting roots. Around them, the other captives were similarly immobilized, the air filled with a nervous stillness as everyone awaited the next move. Lyan took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the leader. His voice was cold, unyielding.
"You have one chance. Talk," Lyan said, the lightning dancing along his fingertips as he spoke. The electricity snapped in the air, a reminder of the consequences of defiance.
The leader glared up at him, eyes filled with defiance and hatred. "You think I'll just betray my people that easily?" they spat, their voice laced with disdain. Lyan's gaze hardened, his expression showing no sympathy. He raised his hand, the crackling energy intensifying.
