Rhydian;
The hall looks the same way it did the first time they dragged us in here.
It has the same impossibly high ceiling still swallowed in darkness far above, the same massive stone pillars carved with symbols I still don't recognise, the same pale blue flames burning inside their mounted bowls along the walls.
The invisible but undeniably heavy pressure of the room once again presses against my shoulders, and as much as I hate it, I keep my gaze on the floor. I listen to the flames crackle…to the witches and warlocks' breathing.
I listen to the silence around us and the chaos in my mind.
The time is up. The time Avaren gave me to decide whether to sacrifice my father for the future of my people. Igma said nothing to me about the topic.
She's been tending to Alana like she's preparing to lose her. I can't do that to Igma. I can't imagine anyone taking Elián away from me forever.
