Rhydian sat--half slumped--against the wall of the cell where he'd been imprisoned since he'd been hauled here. He'd been fed. His bandages had been changed, his wounds cleaned but not healed.

He feared what was happening in his far away home. He feared what was happening to his people.

Footsteps sounded. He looked up, towards the bars of the cell.

His captor approached. Rhydian pushed himself up the best he could, wincing in pain as he shifted his position against the wall. He fixed his face into as stern as an expression as he could muster.

"I see you've come to mock me," he began, his voice rough with pain. "Or have you come to hear me beg? Is that why you've come?"

He'd spit in their face if they had. Rhydian would not bow to this knight even now. They were the dark King Cynog’s most faithful, most brutal knight.