Arkan’s Point of View
The iron cuffs around my wrists burn with their suppressing runes as I slowly wake up.
The sharp scent of damp stone and iron greets me, and the low hum of distant conversations drifts through the barred doorway. I shift on the hard cot, pushing myself to a sitting position.
Two young guards stand just outside my cell, quietly talking among themselves. I clear my throat softly, forcing their attention to me.
"Morning, boys. How long have I been out this time?"
The taller guard glances at his partner, then back at me.
"Couple hours."
I offer a thin, knowing smile.
"Then, I guess it's time for another dose, right?"
They nod, before opening my cell and entering.
They slip the needle in under my shoulder blade as usual, vervain to keep me placid. I barely regist
