Chapter 35: Confessions

Prisoners of war have little left to lose so I wasn’t surprised when Velador brought me down to the dungeons full of Crasmor dissidents from the war nearly a year ago. He dismissed the guard and Velador asked, “How long will you need?”

“Five minutes,” I replied but didn’t let go of his hand when he handed me the key for the first cell. I gave him the torch I carried in with me.

“Alright,” he mumbled and I felt his thumb rubbing my hand during the silence.

We both stood in front of the cell where a man slept and I asked, “Who is he?”

“Crasmor freelancer who tried to lead in his general’s place after you killed him. Didn’t end so well,” Velador replied, bringing back memories of that war where all I sought was glory and respect.

“He’s been here for months then?”

Velador nodded and I put the key in the slot. The metal twanged and the keys jingled while I twisted it open. As the door creaked on its old, iron hinges, the man stirred and tried to gain his bearings in the dark.