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Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
The ticking sound, maybe from a clock, maybe from the drops falling off the trees surrounding this stinking yet regal swamp, echoed all over the “hall”—if you could even call this place a hall. Cranius, holding a sack with the head of the swamp bastard, stepped forward and tossed it at the foot of the throne.
— Here. Your last “challenger,” as you call them, won’t be asking me riddles anymore, Emiryion, — his voice shook with rage, but there was something else in it… despair.
On the throne, wrapped in a purple haze of fog, sat the young king, Emiryion of Velia. His snow-white hair fell over his forehead, and his mercury-colored eyes slid over Cranius’s face with lazy curiosity. The scepter slowly drew a circle in the air, while the girl, clearly one of the most beautiful half-lizard women in all of Emiryion’s kingdom, gently hugged him with her emerald arm, barely brushing the young king’s legs. Her fingers glided over the velvet of his cloak with almost sacred reverence.
— Hm, — Emiryion dragged the sound out, playfully stroking the girl’s snake tail with his scepter, — so, you actually passed everything. Even the Rotting Enchantress herself. Impressive. But...
He leaned forward, his hair falling over his face, hiding a wicked grin.
— Your request sounds like a demand. And here, Cranius, we’ve got a… different kind of hierarchy.
— I don’t give a damn about your hierarchy, — Cranius stepped closer, — I came for Larvian. You said — I do everything, and he’ll be free. Where is he?
— Oh, he’s here, — Emiryion smiled, looking Cranius straight in the eyes, which immediately started darting around the hall.
— Alright, I’m sick of your damn jokes… — Cranius lowered his gaze, his tone weary, — I get it, he’s here, somewhere in your dungeons. Just let him go. Keep your side of the deal...