The interrogation room was located in the deepest part of the central tower; a place where even the stone walls were covered with layers of ancient runes so that no magic could hide the truth or deceive the mind.
The blue light of the crystals installed on the walls illuminated the cold, lifeless space, and the heavy silence that reigned there made even breathing difficult.
At the end of the room, the tower leader sat on his stone chair. His face appeared calm, but it was a calmness that, more than anything, concealed a storm that could be unleashed at any moment.
On his right, Azreon stood motionless, his hands resting on his long staff. The old man's gaze had not left the potion maker even once since his entry.
Varcas stood a bit further away, arms crossed over his chest, silent and only observing the environment.
