They had stopped in front of a prison cell.
"Ravan…" Vivian muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and heavy with anger he had held in for far too long.
His father and grandfather stood beside him, both silent, both staring at the man inside with cold, steady eyes.
The cell was small and filthy.
The stone floor was damp, and the smell of rot filled the air.
Rats ran along the corners without fear, and insects crawled freely across the walls.
It was a place where no one would last long, a place meant to break a person even before the punishment truly began.
And yet… the man inside was already broken.
Ravan hung from chains fixed into the wall.
His arms were stretched out, bound tightly at the wrists, forcing his body to hang forward.
His head was lowered, his hair messy and sticking to his face, hiding most of his expression.
His body was covered in wounds.
There were deep marks from whips, some fresh, some already dried.
