You're gonna be alright.

Larkin was going to continue with the speech that he had begun, but the doors swung open and there stood a panting guard. He was a scrawny fellow, his chest heaving visibly underneath his uniform. There was sweat on his face and his lip leaked blood.

“Your highness, a prisoner has escaped.” He gasped, gingerly wiping at his mouth.

A scowl came across the governor’s face and he stood, slamming his fists on top of the desk, “Can you not handle them by yourselves?” he growled, waving a hand at Tic, “And how dare you interrupt me, were those doors not shut? I’m in the middle of something.”

“But sire, he’s too…”

The man emerged from behind his desk, and roughly grabbed a hold of Tic’s wrist, pulling him from his chair and along to the doorway. Larkin gave Tic to the guard, saying, “Take him to the guest room. Stay until I return - he’s not to leave.”

He left the confused and frightened guard alone with Tic and his orders, heading through the hallways and down the stairs to the dungeons. But before he descended into the cold, stoned confinements, he took a moment to retrieve the weapon he most favored for keeping rebellious prisoners in line.