Chapter 360 Prison [2]

Darion recognized some of the prisoners as people from Harrowhold. These were people who had been captured during the conflict between Harrowhold and Vrethka.

Some were warriors, their bodies still carrying the muscles of soldiers, though weakened by malnutrition. Some were nobles, their clothes torn and dirty, their faces proud despite their circumstances. Some were political figures, their eyes sharp and calculating, even in the depths of the prison.

Darion realized that when he freed Harrowhold and made Marrick king, not everyone had been taken with him. Some prisoners had simply been left behind in Vrethka. They had been forgotten in the chaos of the conquest, left to rot in the darkness while their homeland was rebuilt.

He asked the warrior how long they had been imprisoned. The warrior explained that some had been there since the previous conflict. Some had been there for months. Some had been there for years. Darion was visibly disturbed. Years. These people had been locked in this... dungeon for years, their lives stolen, their futures destroyed.

Darion turned toward the surviving warrior. He asked a simple question: "Were they innocent?"

The warrior hesitated. His face was pale, his eyes darting away.

Darion clarified what he meant. Were these people actually criminals? Had they murdered people? Had they committed crimes worthy of imprisonment? Or were they simply enemies of Dross?

The warrior explained that it wasn’t that simple. Some of the captured rulers weren’t exactly innocent when it came to politics, power struggles, taxes, wars, and the things rulers normally did.

They had their own history. Some had made decisions that harmed people. Some had been involved in conflicts against Vrethka. Some had done things that could be considered crimes, depending on who was telling the story.

But that didn’t mean they deserved to be thrown into a prison and left to starve. Others were imprisoned primarily because Dross considered them political enemies or potential threats.

They hadn’t committed any crimes. They hadn’t harmed anyone. They had simply been on the wrong side of a war, had supported the wrong ruler, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And for that, they had been condemned to a slow, lingering death in the darkness.

Darion looked back through the cells. The prisoners were still watching him. Some continued begging, their voices hoarse, their hands reaching through the bars. He could release them immediately.

Doing so would send a very powerful message throughout Vrethka. Dross imprisoned people. Darion freed them. Dross ruled through fear. Darion could become the lord who brought them out of the darkness. It would help cement his authority among the people. They would see him as a liberator, a savior, a ruler who cared about justice.

For a moment, Darion considered simply opening every cell. It would be easy. It would be satisfying. It would send a clear message.

But he stopped himself. He didn’t actually know these people. He didn’t know what they had done. He didn’t know which prisoners were dangerous.

He didn’t know which political enemies might become enemies of him. He didn’t even know what information some of them possessed. Some of them might be innocent. Some of them might be guilty. Some of them might be useful. Some of them might be threats.

Darion wasn’t going to repeat Dross’s mistake of making decisions without understanding the people involved. He wasn’t going to free potential enemies just to make himself look good. He wasn’t going to release dangerous people into the settlement without knowing who they were or what they were capable of.

He told the warrior: "I’ll decide their fate later."

The warrior looked surprised. He had expected Darion to free them immediately, to make a grand gesture, to show mercy. But Darion was thinking beyond the moment. He was thinking about the long term, about the stability of the settlement, about the safety of his people.

Darion continued that he wanted detailed information on every prisoner first: who they were, why they were imprisoned, what they did, their connections, their history with Vrethka, whether they could be trusted.

Until then, they remained imprisoned, but Darion made it clear that their current conditions needed to be improved. They should receive food, water, basic medical treatment, and proper sleeping conditions. They should be treated like human beings, not like animals.

Darion took one final look at the prison now. After everything else he saw today, this place left a different impression.

The treasury showed him Vrethka’s wealth. The livestock showed him its food production. The armory showed him its military strength. The granaries showed him its preparation. The farmland showed him its potential. The housing showed him how its people lived. And the prison showed him what happened to those who stood against its former ruler.

Darion realized he had seen enough. He told the warrior: "Let’s go."

They left the prison compound. The prisoners continued watching them disappear up the stairs, their eyes following the light until it faded into darkness.

Darion and the warrior emerged from the compound into the open air. The sunlight felt almost painfully bright after the darkness underground. Darion took a deep breath of fresh air, filling his lungs, letting the clean scent wash away the stench of the prison. For the first time all day, he felt genuinely exhausted.

The tour had taken far longer than he expected. He had spent hours walking—then eventually riding—through Vrethka, inspecting everything from its wealth and food supplies to its military infrastructure and prisons. Now he simply wanted to lay down. His legs ached. His back was sore. His mind was full.

Darion mounted his horse. The warrior rode alongside him. They made their way back toward the castle. The journey was quiet. Darion didn’t have much energy left for conversation. His mind was filled with everything he saw throughout the day. Vrethka wasn’t simply a village he conquered. It was an entire territory with wealth, food, weapons, farmland, people, soldiers, prisoners, and problems.

Now all of it belonged to him. And somehow, he was going to have to figure out what to do with it.

The two riders finally reached the castle. Darion dismounted, exhausted. The tour of Vrethka was finally over.