[Imperial Dungeon — The Next Morning]
Morning never truly reached the Imperial Dungeon; only pale shafts of sunlight slipped through the narrow stone vents high above the ancient walls.
The cold never left this place, nor did regret; drops of water echoed somewhere deep within the endless corridors.
One...then another...then another. Outside the last prison chamber, two Royal Knights stood in complete silence. A royal physician slowly stepped out, carrying a blood-soaked cloth in his hands, his expression alone revealed enough.
Raviel immediately rose from where he had been sitting against the cold wall; he had not slept, not even for a single heartbeat. His clothes were wrinkled; his eyes were swollen from an entire night of silent tears.
"...Physician." His voice had become rough. "...Tell me."
The physician glanced at him. "I have done everything I know. The herbs no longer work, the healing arts no longer answer, and he has lost too much."
Silence.
