Daneel's exit was the entrance of Sir Edward, Herald to the king. His face was drowned with worry, and his steps were quick. "Your grace," he bowed.
King Dimitri clicked his tongue in annoyance, why were they disturbing his peace? "What is it?" He asked
"Your Grace, the people have sent their representatives. They seek an audience with you; they're afraid of the sudden plague," Edward said hesitantly.
The attack was unexpected and it claimed many lives. The people were anxious to understand the origin of it and how to prevent further events.
As much as he wanted to dismiss meeting with the representatives, King Dimitri had a reputation to uphold. Neglecting his people's concerns could cast doubts, and they would begin to question his judgments.
With a deep, irritated sigh, he relented. "I will receive them"
Down the empty corridors leading deep into the palace dungeon, Daneel's firm steps echoed. His fists, clenched by his side, he strode along, heading into the inner sanctum— the torture area.
As he approached a particular door, his steps slowed and he halted. The room exuded a malevolent aura, punctuated by the stench of blood. Daneel was unbothered by the strong scent, he was, after all, familiar with it.
He stepped in, his narrowed gaze locked on the woman before him. Her frail body was bound by rusty chains, her hands dangling freely from the shackles. Her legs were kept steady, her feet nailed to a flat plank.
Beside her, on each side, stood two men— executioners— their faces covered with black masks. One of them held a whip, and the other held a small knife.
The woman, half-conscious, spat out a mouth full of blood and teeth. She looked disheveled. Her once long silver hair had been cut and shaved, with patches of her scalp visible. A jagged wound on the side of her head revealed thin trickles of blood running down her face.
Her face was a canvas art of scars and open wounds, a gnarled mark trailing from her forehead, through her left eye, and down to her cheek. Despite the injuries on her face, one distinctive feature stood out: a birthmark underneath her right eye resembling a black rose.
Her hands that dangled freely from the shackles were bereft of fingers. Of all the ten, she had six remaining, others severed and severely peeled.
Her feet suffered the same fate. Not only were they pierced with nails, but her toenails were removed, leaving her open flesh a magnet for flies and maggots to feed on.
Regardless of these, she was still alive.
"She has refused to talk," one of the executions said, prompting the woman to lift her head to see who had entered. One eye blinded, and the other blurred, she couldn't tell who it was. All she could make out was his golden hair.
Daneel watched her with a straight face. The woman's body trembled with great pain. She'd rather suffer a fate as cruel as this than disclose the hideout of the Embers who fled and hid themselves.
This was a true act of loyalty. But Daneel wasn't here to praise her. If the king's words are correct, then the Embers in hiding are the ones who sent dark phantoms to attack the village. Without knowledge of their whereabouts, there'll be no way of preventing the next attack.
"How long do you intend to keep silent?" Daneel asked indifferently.
"I have told you already," the woman heaved hoarsely, "Over my dead body will I betray my brothers and sisters" she let out a restrained grunt, every part of her body aching with pain.
Daneel's jaw clenched, and he spat, "The king was right. What happened today is evidence that if his declaration had come later, we would all be suffering under the vileness of Embers and their Phantoms"
To Daneel's surprise, the woman began to chuckle hoarsely. "Even though locked up deep inside this place, I still felt the Earth's tremble." She grinned gruesomely, exposing her scanty bloodied remaining teeth. "Once we're all dead, who will the king blame then?"
Daneel watched her speak with unease, his insides were troubled by the woman's words. He tried to ignore it, asking through clenched teeth "Where are the rest of the Embers hiding?"
The woman ignored him, asking with a smug expression "You know it too, don't you? That our oh so righteous king is nothing but stupid without intellect, a puppet merely occupying the throne-"
"Don't you dare!" Daneel cut her off, his face darkening. But the woman pressed on, despite Daneel's angry expression.
"A selfish man who cares more about the flowers in his garden than the lives of his people. His promises are empty lies, his judgments are blind and foolish, his words are intertwined with deceit, and corrupted with power and influence"
A searing pain coursed through her body making her croak. She coughed up more blood, her body weak from pain and internal anguish. She spat out, her eyes locked on Daneel in a fierce glare.
Her predatory stare caused him to recoil, taking a step back.
She continued "Without our Phantoms, the whole of Eldrador is useless against the gateway." She chuckled darkly, "But never mind that, a far worse fate has been set for us."
Daneel's brows creased at her words, she was spouting nonsense like a madman. There was a spark of hesitation in his eyes, fear lurking somewhere within.
"A plague will come, something mighty and beyond what we've ever seen. Its destructive nature will consume everything in its wake. Nothing will be able to stand against it, IT'LL CONSUME US ALL!"
And like she had finally lost it, she began to laugh uncontrollably, a loud, insane, and terrifying sound that startled the three of them.
Her voice echoed, the clunking sound of the dangling shackles lost in her drunken laughter.
Daneel's jaw clenched, his anger and frustration boiling over. Her mocking laughter made his ears itch. He could no longer endure it. With a swift motion, he drew his sword and struck, its blade making an arc through the air and her neck.
Her voice suddenly seized, her eyes wide with shock. A quick image of a young girl quite similar to her ran through her mind, the word "Hah.." running dry in her mouth as her head fell to the ground with a sickening thud.