The captive whimpers as Bilorial drags him through the obsidian gates of Vexena's palace, his boots scraping the ash-dusted stone.
Mika follows behind, arms crossed, face expressionless as ever. They stride in silence through the hellish corridors, flame-lit sconces hissing against crimson walls etched with ancient runes. In her left hand she holds a melted lump of what had once been a binding crystal, still steaming.
At the end of the grand hall, atop a throne of polished bone and velvet shadow, Vexena sits in eerie stillness, one crimson nail tapping an idle rhythm against the armrest.
"Majesty." Bilorial bows deeply, his coat sweeping the floor. "The prisoner, as requested."
Mika kicks the squirming demonkin mage forward. He collapses at Vexena's feet with a wet thud~, panting, blood dripping from a split lip.
