(2 days before the execution, The Eternal Garden, Veyr's POV)
Hunger gnawed at Veyr's insides in dull, relentless waves as he hung suspended in the darkness, his wrists bound high above his head by cold, unyielding chains that bit into his skin every time his weight shifted, even slightly.
The room was pitch black.
Not the comforting dark of night, but the absolute kind, the kind that swallowed depth and distance whole, leaving him with nothing but the sound of his own breath and the faint scrape of metal whenever his body swayed.
Days had passed.
Or maybe weeks.
He no longer knew.
There had been no markers of time here, no voices, no footsteps, no sounds beyond his own breathing and the occasional dry rasp of his throat when his body demanded water that never came.
*Gurgle*
*Grumble*
His stomach cramped again, sharp and insistent, as his head dipped forward weakly, strands of matted hair falling over his eyes.
'Not many days left now.'
