Just then, deep beneath the lake's frigid surface, Asher's body began to writhe. His limbs strained against the chains that bound him, muscles bulging and veins throbbing as he fought with everything he had.
His face flushed crimson, the blood surging to his head as precious air slipped from his lungs in a stream of silver bubbles that floated toward the surface and burst soundlessly into the frozen air.
Still, I'ron stood on the shore, his gaze steady, impassive. He watched as the struggle continued, watched as Asher's strength waned and his movements slowed. Minutes bled into hours, the sun's position shifting ever so slightly as time marched on.
Asher's body stilled, his heart finally faltering, the last beat fading into silence. The crimson of his face dulled, his flesh taking on the pale hue of death.
