“Sir, your majesty, please reconsider” the trembling tiefling knelt in front of the King of Holn, Regis Aedan Kennegan, hands bound. “I only did it out of desperation, my family hadn’t had bread for days, I only took what they wouldn’t sell!” 

The king walked from his dark throne to the young tiefling, waving a hand. The guards on either side of him took a step back, placing their spears back to their sides. 

“You know, I had a daughter like you” the king mused. “Once upon a time. A reminder of a demons’ influence. When she was born to me, skin paper white and eyes red as blood, she was kept a secret, and her mother never saw the next sunrise. I never claimed her, never even named her, and yet as she grew, she disfigured me." his grin stretched the scars that ran across his face. "I couldn't show the demon child to the city, people would know I broke their trust by calling upon a demon. That I'm no better than the kings of old Evira." The Regis started chuckling. "But of course, the moment you step out of here you will forget all about her.”

“Then why tell me? Please, your highness, I want only to return to my family.”

The king grabbed one of his horns, pulling his head up and back as the prisoner yelped. He knelt close to him, close enough to whisper in his forked ear.

“Because despite her being my own daughter, I made her leave this city, lashes on her back, a bloodthirsty dire wolf on her tail. If I did that for my own blood, I am certain you will understand that by asking you to leave this city and never return, I am doing this out of something other than… disgust. If you think about it, I am offering you unparalleled freedom.” 

As the king heard the tieflings' characteristic, calm exhale, he drew back. 

His magic always made them so compliant.

“You… you are setting me free?”

The king smiled. “Of course. Isn’t that what you were asking for?” 

“I- yes. Yes it was.” 

“But first, I believe you owe me a payment for your thievery.” 

“I- I have nothing to offer, your eminence”.

“That doesn’t mean I cannot take anything from you”. 

As the king stood, he crushed the mans hands under his foot, barely flinching as he cried out in pain. 

“You’re okay,” the king cooed. “It barely hurts, right?” 

The tieflings’ cries stopped then. “I- no. No sir, it doesn’t. I feel nothing.” He remained silent as the king brought his food down on his hand, time and time again. He saw his hands, broken to the point of being unrecognizable, bones piercing through his ember skin, and yet felt nothing. As the Regis said, it barely hurt.

He was okay.

“Good. Now run, leave Holn, and carry with you only what your mangled hands may.”