The Sun's Awakening

Chapter Fifteen

Lands away, the kingdom of Sepulchre caught wind of the whispers carried by the somber breeze.

War was coming. 

Palpable in the very air surrounding the castle. 

Kaanan stalked the halls, dragging his latest victim in tow. His eyes glowed with a predatory gleam having just returned from a rather rewarding hunt. The mage, elusive by the shadows they cowered in, had been found after scouring every dilapidated, seedy tavern in the kingdom. Once the former prince set his mind to something there was no turning back. 

They rounded the corner that led to the dungeons and down they descended. With each step, Kaanan's desperation grew– A relentless force driving him to do unspeakable things. He knew time was running out, his patience wearing thin like frayed threads on a weathered tapestry. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

As they reached the pit of the dungeons, the air grew colder, the darkness swallowing them whole. Throwing open the heavy iron door, Kaanan shoved the mage inside. The mage's eyes betrayed no fear, only a steely resolve that matched Kaanan's own.

"You will answer all my questions. You will hold no ounce of information back." Kaanan growled, his voice rising to a snarl as he seized the mage by the collar of their cloak, his fingers tightening with an iron grip. "You've tampered with my life for the last time. Now, tell me the cost of Ele's voice. What did my foolish cousin unleash?"

Unfazed by Kaanan's threats, the mage regarded him with a cool detachment that only served to enrage him further. With a snarl, Kaanan unleashed his fury, his blows raining down upon the mage with a ferocity born from a lifetime of pent-up frustrations. He cornered the cloaked figure into a corner and continuously slammed them with punches. Each blow they weathered with stoic resolve, their expression betraying no hint of pain or fear.

As the interrogation wore on, Kaanan's frustration grew, his desperation mounting with each passing moment. He staggered over to the wall outside the barred cell, looking over his choice of weapons and tortuous devices. 

Realization flickered across the mage's features when he palmed the spiked mace. A moment of vulnerability that Kaanan seized with ruthless intent. 

"Tell me what you know. Tell me, and perhaps I will spare you further suffering."

The mage's resolve wavered. "You cannot hurt me worse than they have..."

Kaanan pat the club in his other hand, admiring the sharpened points of the spikes. "Are you sure about that?"

With a trembling breath, they spoke, their words a whispered confession. "The girl's voice... It was a gift, given to the one who will accomplish what you could not."

Kaanan's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the significance of the mage's words. The situation was far worse than he feared.

Rage boiled over, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of fury and denial. The mage's eyes widened in terror as Kaanan's shadow fell over them and they tried shrinking into the corner of the cell, wishing to disappear. With a snarl, Kaanan raised the club high above his head, muscles tensing with anticipation. Time slowed to a crawl, the air thick with tension and the promise of violence.

The sound of impact echoed off the walls, mingling with the mage's anguished cries. Blood pooled on the floor in a dark, viscous puddle. Desperate cries were silenced. Chunks of flesh ripped off the mage until there was nothing distinguishable left. Strewn pieces of tendrils and limbs scattered the room.

All that remained was Kaanan, basking in the aftermath of the kill. Blood dripped from the ends of his fingers, staining his hands crimson as if he had dipped them in a scarlet pool. His once immaculate clothes were now splattered with dark splotches. Despite the horror of the sight, there was a twisted beauty to the violence– A savage elegance. He dropped the club and stumbled back in a blood-drunken haze.