Varek pushed through the stone above him, squinting into the light for the first time in days.
It was odd. For the past century or so, he'd become adjusted to fighting in the darkness. For when darkness fell, the Devourers came.
But he was no longer stuck in that routine. He had to keep reminding himself that this was all real. That the seemingly infinite loop had been broken.
Varek still wasn't entirely free. The sword.
Even though he'd handed it off to that young boy who'd taken his place, somehow the damn thing had found its way back to him.
Maybe there would never be an end to this madness. Not truly. The sword would be a constant reminder of the crime he'd committed. The thing he should have died for when greed overcame him.
That was just part of the punishment. He would not be killed for this. That would be too easy of an escape.
Torture was the only way.
He would have to live with this burden for the rest of his life.
