DEXTERA
The metallic clang of chains echoed down the hallway as two towering figures flanked me as they gripped me firmly beneath my arms.
I could barely limp; the flesh around my ankles was raw from the silver restraints. My body felt like a shell of what it used to be; frail, light, almost breakable.
We emerged into a massive chamber, which looked like sone sourt of court or decision making room.
No doubt, this was the Sanctum of Weighing Elder Vaelora talked about.
My heart sank.
The moment they dumped me unceremoniously in the center of the room, a silence fell. Six elders sat high on golden chairs carved with ancestral markings, all staring at me like I was a cursed relic unearthed after centuries.
Freya sat among them and Deucalion was off to the side. But Thor wasn’t there.
