An hour or less later, Sagiri was finally brought in from the dungeon. He was escorted by the shadow unit. Only this time it seemed their orders were different. The power-taming threads of the seventh wing still crawled all around his body. They bound him so his hands were bound to the back, and his feet were bound in such a way that he could just take small steps. The threads of shimmering energy coiled tightly around his wrists, torso, and neck. They pulsed with faint runic light, tightening subtly with every surge of movement, suppressing the darkness that lay dormant within him. Despite the bindings and the dried blood staining his garments, Sagiri walked upright, his expression calm.
At least he could finally know his verdict.
The council, on the other hand, had not been silent for much longer. After a few minutes of silence, Felunka had found a new target to rain down his frustration on.
