Tor's knees buckled as he watched his mother's lifeless form burn on the stake, his face twisted with a mixture of anger and grief. The heat of the flames cast a warm glow upon his face, but it brought no comfort.
With tears streaming down his cheeks, he stared at the charred remnants of his mother, his emotions spiraling into a whirlwind of pain and fury.
Lord Joel stood there, a smug grin on his face as he watched the scene with satisfaction.
"Justice well served," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "A traitor has been punished, and our peace has been restored."
Tor's head remained bowed, his voice dripping with bitterness.
"You call this justice?" he spat out, his voice dripping with contempt.
A darkness began to envelop him, a thick mist seeping from his body. Rachel, his best friend, tried to intervene, trying to calm him down, but Tor pushed her away, causing her to fall to the ground.
The air grew heavy with an ominous energy as Tor continued his incantation. As he repeated the mysterious chant, his voice growing louder, a dark cloud enveloped him.
"Elemereka ze'runei, mor'ethon vaelor!"
Tor's body hovered in the air, suspended and surrounded by the swirling mist. A powerful, eerie aura emanated from him, making the hairs on everyone's arms stand on end.
As Tor's chant ended, a dark figure materialized in the air, its form taking shape from the swirling mist. Tor's body fell limp and unconscious, his face contorted as his consciousness was replaced by the mysterious entity.
The figure looked down at the crowd below, its gaze piercing and unsettling. It seemed to exude a powerful magic, the air around it crackling with supernatural energy.
The dark figure roared with rage, its powerful voice shaking the very ground beneath them. It charged towards Lord Joel, only to be blocked by four mages who stood in its path, their hands crackling with magic energy.
The mages unleashed their spells, hoping to subdue the creature, but to their surprise, their attacks seemed to bounce off the figure, having no effect.
With a single powerful strike, the dark figure sent all four of the mages flying backward, their bodies thudding to the ground with a heavy thud.
As they lay there, groaning in pain and stunned, it was clear that the entity's magic was far stronger than anything they had encountered before.
Reddrick, a wise and experienced mage, stepped forward with a commanding voice.
"Subduere Irae, iramque cohibere! Quietus motus, furor refrenare! Subduere Irae, iramque cohibere!"
His incantation, powerful and effective, seemed to weaken the dark entity. It stumbled back and crashed to the ground, fading away as Tor's unconscious body returned to normal.
The crowd watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide in disbelief at the spectacle they had just witnessed. Reddrick had managed to subdue the dark figure, which seemed to have been controlling Tor moments ago.
As the dust settled, all eyes turned to Tor's unresponsive form on the ground. No one knew what had just happened, or if Tor would ever regain consciousness.
Rachel, filled with concern for Tor, rushed to his side. "Tor! Tor!" she cried out, her voice filled with worry.
Tor groaned and opened his eyes, his vision slowly coming into focus. "Ra... Rachel?" he murmured, his voice weak and groggy. "What... happened?"
Lord Joel commanded two guards to arrest Tor, who was still dazed and disoriented.
"Arrest him!" he shouted, pointing toward the groggy young man.
But Rachel, tears streaming down her face, cried out in protest. "NO! NO!"
Lord Joel and the mages departed the square with Tor in tow, the guards dragging the unconscious young man along. Rachel was left there, her face wet with tears, watching helplessly as her best friend was taken away.
The crowd began to disperses, their whispers and murmurs filling the air as they speculated about what had just transpired. Some whispered about dark magic, others spoke of curses, and a few looked at Rachel with pity.
Tor was roughly pushed into the damp, dark dungeon cell, his body still weakened from the events on the square. The heavy iron door clanged shut behind him, locking him in the confined space.
Pitch darkness enveloped the cell, save for the faint light seeping in from a small, barred window high above him. The air was cold and stale, the stone walls damp and moldy.
Tor sat on the cold, damp floor of the cell, his head in his hands. He was overwhelmed with grief, his mind racing with questions and doubts.
Tears streamed down his face as he pondered his mother's fate, his own powerlessness, and the uncertain future that awaited him. The silence of the cell was deafening, only interrupted by his quiet sobs and ragged breaths.
His ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching, their echo growing louder in the narrow dungeon corridor. He tensed up, his heart racing as he wondered who it could be.
Tor waited, his breath caught in his throat, as the footsteps came closer and stopped outside of his cell.
The footsteps stopped, and Tor could feel someone standing outside his cell, though who it was remained a mystery.
He stared through the bars of the cell, trying to make out any shapes or features in the dim light, but the shadows around the figure cast a veil of secrecy it. All he could tell was that the visitor was standing there, silent and still, watching him.
As the figure moved closer to the cell, and Tor finally got a clear view of them, he felt a jolt of shock and anger. It was Reddrick, the senior mage who had subdued him in the town square.
Tor's face contorted with anger, his teeth clenched as he met Reddrick's gaze. "YOU!" he shouted, anger coursing through his veins.
Reddrick spoke gently, trying to calm Tor down.
"There, there, son," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. I'm here to speak with you."