"Behold the path of exile. Step upon it, and your footprints shall turn to ash. No road home shall remain."
A few doubted, but with all this prepared, there was no way they would be pardoned.
"Can't believe all this happened in one night," someone whispered.
Henndar's voice, low and measured, filled the hush:
"Let none here doubt the severity of this moment. At once, bring forth the exiles."
Two cloaked Deadlocks produced Aramith first. He was pale, his chest rising in ragged breaths. He still couldn't believe everything was well some hours ago. He met his father's eyes with a flicker of regret, sorrow, and a look of broken understanding.
Next came Mozrael, hopeful and hopeless. She looked like she wanted to escape, though she offered no resistance, glancing back at the place that was once a source of comfort, now seeming distant already.
Last, Lynnor with her head bowed, and her expression unreadable.
