Lana
I woke up with a heavy head and a body that felt colder than death. Pain spread from my shoulders down to my wrists—currently bound by cold chains fixed to the rough stone wall.
My head hung low. It took several seconds before my vision could focus.
I was in a dark, damp room. The sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. The air was thick with the scent of metal and mold. A faint light from a torch beyond the bars offered just enough illumination to see the space around me.
A prison?
Damn it.
I tried to summon my magic—but it was like reaching into empty air. Still no response. My disguise stone was still active, with one day of duration left.
Footsteps approached.
The iron door at the end of the hallway creaked open.
Someone entered.
A female elf clad in a long white robe, the hem dragging softly across the stone floor. Her hair was long, silver-white, her face beautiful and... cold.
Not ordinary cold—deathly cold.
Her eyes stared at me, full of hatred.
