Chains whispered in protest when the prisoner shifted. They didn’t allow much movement, stretching his arms, and a collar enhanced with imbued stones weighed on his neck, forever reminding him of the betrayal his fellow inventors and friends had committed. So many years and the memory remained as fresh as on that day, that last day of his freedom.
He didn’t want to recall the event, but images swarmed him nevertheless, as if they knew he had nothing else to do in his prison.
Experimenting on himself meant maintaining a careful balance between remaining conscious and easing pain with mind-numbing concoctions, and that last stone blending had left him dazed. His neck muscles ached, and the skin itched where the imbued stones freshly connected with his body, so he didn’t thought much of a k
