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Bard
Bard watched Jori writhe in the grip of his captor. His shoulder wasn’t right, and the Tanyu twisted his arm cruelly. Panic showed in the whites of Jori’s eyes. Belik’s face was a calm mask of concentration as the other Tanyu in the room waited for his demonstration. Bard’s bowels turned to ice. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He remembered the Torithian who escaped the night Firian came back from the war. He had screamed, writhed, and fallen a broken man with blood seeping from his eyes and ears. It was awful to watch, and now Jori had the same edge of confusion and terror.
Down the line, Firian screamed, a bone-chilling sound. Never before had Bard heard such a raw noise. Bard trembled as he looked just in time to see Firian go limp. His head lolled back, mouth open. Multiple
