The chamber was dark, save for the candles lit in groups and placed on surfaces at varying heights. On top of crates, in bronze candelabras, on the floor. Symbols I didn’t recognize had been drawn on the floor too, all contained within a circle. The symbols - and the circle - seemed to glow with a faint pulse that grew brighter and faster as I stepped into the room. Almost as if it were reacting to me.
Torian looked up from where he was tied to a chair. His perfect face was already starting to bruise on one side. Blood trickled down from the corner of his hairline, and his bottom lip was split. His clothes were ruined. His cloak was missing, and holes with frayed, scorched edges were scattered across his chest and down his sleeves. I could see the wounds marring his skin. It was as if he
