"Four years ago," Kaldala began, his voice low and firm. He took a single step toward Yelena, his eyes unblinking as he searched her face.
His boots scraped softly on the stone floor as he paced, his shadow shifting with each movement. The candlelight danced on his face, highlighting the grim set of his jaw.
"I was tortured because I found some acts and practices to be extremely questionable."
"Before they broke me, they promised me everything. wealth, influence, a seat beside their false god. All I had to do was bow and assist them in what they claim is a plan for the greater good."
Kaldala's face was a mask of disgust.
"But little did I know, I would be partaking in a grand scheme to put innocent blood on my hands."
He stopped pacing. Slowly, deliberately, Kaldala unclasped his robe. The fabric fell from his shoulders with a soft rustle, pooling at his feet.
