The interior of the cells was a gloomy sight, the air was stale with the smell of blood, sweat, and occasional whiff of urine. The sounds of chains clanging, and prisoners lamenting echoed through the passageway, some voices begged to be released, some begged to be killed, while others threatened to do unspeakable things to the people who held them there.
Lord Varric escorted Elias past rows and rows of cells, the cells were small, barely large enough to fit a person lying down. Elias tried to peek in, but Lord Varric quickly advised him against it,
"If you like your face, don't do that again," He said.
Most of the people in the cells, at least the ones he could see judging by their collars, were Flares, and it made Elias wonder if Loria would be in a collar too.
"This place wasn't built for them, in fact, if we were to free all the Flares here today, we should only have twelve people in this place," Lord Varric explained," Lord Varric said, "Here, this prisoner fits the description you gave me," He added as they stopped in front of a cell
The inside of the cell was a stark, oppressive space, designed to crush the spirit of even the hardiest inmates. It measured no more than six feet by eight feet, its rough stone walls cold to the touch and slick with moisture from the constant dampness that pervaded the prison.
A narrow slit high in the wall served as the only window, allowing a sliver of gray light to filter in and casting long shadows that twisted with the flicker of the distant torches outside.
The floor was uneven and worn, covered in a thin layer of straw that did little to soften the hardness beneath. In one corner, a simple wooden plank served as a bed, its surface hard and unyielding, barely wide enough to lie upon. A threadbare blanket, with more holes than fabric, was the sole concession to comfort.
Elias' jaw clenched tightly, the muscles twitching with the effort to hold back the torrent of emotions. Elias' hands balled up into fists at his sides, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip.
"Is this King Alaric's doing? Even in such a restricted prison, he still denies them the freedom of thought," He asked, his voice low and steadfast
Sensing Elias' fast-growing rage, Lord Varric took a step back, "Yes it is, everything happens at the orders of the king," He replied
Elias etched the sight of Loria in his mind, "I came here to talk to her, but what good is it talking to someone that can't listen? I need her to be able to listen as I tell her...tell her that I killed her brother, I need her to react, I need her to be angry! To curse me!!" Elias forced his words out of his mouth through clenched jaws
Lord Varric looked upon him with a sympathetic expression, he raised his hands to place on Elias' shoulder, to comfort him. He immediately kept his hands to himself as he saw the seething rage etched on Elias' face.
"King Alaric...something has to be done," Elias declared
Lord Varric furrowed his brows, "I urge you not to be reckless and impulsive Elias Ashdown," He said
Elias ignored him and began walking to the exit, "Let's go, I'm done here,"