The inquisitor grabbed one of the children - a boy of about eight years old - by the arm and pulled him to his feet. The boy whimpered in fear, and the woman let out a small cry. The inquisitor held a knife to the boy's throat, his eyes glinting with malice. "I will not tolerate any interference," he said, his voice low and menacing. "If you do not comply, I will kill the boy." Ben felt sick. He had to do something, but what? If he moved, the boy would die. The inquisitor looked at the woman, Ben realizing it is her kid, he began. "Where is Alsies' stock, where is he holding them?". The woman kept quiet. The inquisitor's gaze turned to the woman, and Ben could see the fear in her eyes. It was clear that the boy was her son, and that she was terrified for his life. She remained silent, her body trembling. The inquisitor's grip on the boy tightened, and Ben felt his heart racing. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. If he tried to attack the inquisitor, the boy would die. But if he did nothing, the boy would suffer a terrible fate. He was trapped. The inquisitor clicked his tongue, then casually slit the boy's throat, he then casually stabbed the other girl in the neck. He looked like he derived pleasure from it as he licked the blood off the knife.Ben's voice cracked as he screamed, his eyes wide with horror. "I'll tell you everything, I promise!" he cried. "Just please, don't hurt the others." The inquisitor looked at him, his expression unreadable. "You know nothing," he said coldly. "You are of no use to me." Ben's heart sank. He had failed. He had tried to save the children, but he had only managed to get them killed. The woman was sobbing quietly, her face a mask of grief. He called the guard," take them away, kill them all he said, leave Alsies, he will be executed in public". Ben watched as the woman and the children were dragged away. Ben sat alone in the cell, his mind racing. He was filled with confusion, fear, and guilt. He didn't understand how he had ended up here, or what was happening to him. He felt like he was living in a nightmare, a terrible dream from which he couldn't wake up. He tried to focus on his breathing, to calm himself down, but it was no use. He was trapped, and he didn't know what to do.Ben's stomach churned, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He leaned over and retched, vomiting onto the floor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and he began to sob. He felt like a failure, like he had let the children and the woman down. He had tried to save them, but he had only made things worse. He felt utterly hopeless, and he didn't know what to do next. Hours bled into sunset, he was still in the dungeon, the inquisitor came back and looked through the door. "I have seen men crumble for family, but even your twins among those five refused to say anything, a family of brave fools until the bitter end," he mocked. " I am both impressed and dumfounded by your foolishness". Immediately it sank even more, his children were among the children tossed to the execution, it made him sick, he began to sob.Ben felt as if he had been punched in the gut. The inquisitor's words had landed like a physical blow, and the weight of the revelation about his children was crushing. He tried to process the information, but it was too much to bear. His entire world had been turned upside down, and he felt like he was losing his grip on reality. He buried his head in his hands, trying to shut out the world, but the pain and grief were too much to bear.Ben started to laugh maniacally, with tears on his face, he had lost his mind for a bit. The laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep within, a raw, hysterical sound. Ben didn't recognize it as his own, but he couldn't control it. Tears streamed down his face as he laughed and sobbed at the same time. He felt like he was going crazy, but he couldn't stop. The laughter turned to a sobbing wail, and he crumpled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. He didn't know how long he sat there, crying and gasping for breath. The inquisitor rushed in as if to help, then punched him in the gut to which he soiled himself. Ben doubled over in pain as the inquisitor's fist connected with his stomach. He felt a hot rush of humiliation as he soiled himself, but he was in too much pain to be embarrassed. The inquisitor stood over him, watching him with a look of disgust. "You're a pathetic, sniveling fool," he spat. "You're not even worth my time." He turned and left, leaving Ben crumpled on the floor.He lay there curled on the floor then he felt the chains loosen, the artefact was out, magic had been disabled within the radius, it was his chance to escape. The realization hit Ben like a bolt of lightning. The artifact was gone, which meant that the magic that had held him prisoner was gone too. He had a chance to escape, but he had to act quickly. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. He gathered his strength and struggled to his feet. He could hear the guards in the hallway, talking and laughing. He had to be quiet if he wanted to get out of here alive.As the cell door swung open, he began his escape. The dimly lit dungeon, with its cold stone walls and eerie atmosphere, had been his home for far too long. He was a weak and feeble prisoner at this point, deemed unworthy of thought anymore by his captors. Little did they know, they had wildly underestimated him.From what he now understood this was a medieval magic fantasy world, where mystical beings roamed and enchanted lands stretched as far as the eye could see, where the weak had always been at the mercy of the strong. Little did they know hidden beneath his gaunt appearance was a brilliant mind, filled with wild imagination and a cunning spirit.As he stepped out of his confinement, a gust of chilly wind whispered through his tattered clothes. The moon's pale light spilled onto his face, highlighting the determination etched across his weary features. He had spent many dark hours planning this very moment, gathering strength from the shadows and embracing the magic that lay dormant within him he pressed forward.The corridors of the old castle were a labyrinth of twists and turns, filled with countless guards who relished their power and enforced their dominance with merciless brutality. But the prisoner had become intimately acquainted with the castle's secrets during his time of captivity, using his keen intellect to discern the unspoken patterns of the guards' routines, their statements and movements.Stealthily, he moved through the corridors, relying on his keen senses to detect even the faintest sounds of danger. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the ancient stone walls, giving him brief glimpses of hidden alcoves and concealed passages. The magic of the world seemed to respond to his presence, guiding him towards his freedom, as faint whispers in his mind.