The room was small and tightly enclosed, likely some sort of pantry, and yet for now it served as a prison cell. Wenhan paced it relentlously in lieu of anything else to do, anything to keep his mind off of the itching from his healing face that threatened to drive him mad. The rock that Sungjoo had hit him with had broken his nose and caused several cuts across his face. Even now, nearly a week since the fight, his head throbbed from the blow he'd received from the other man's fist, especially when he moved too fast. He was pretty sure it was recovering though, and he could finally see from his peripheral vision again.

But he wasn't ready to go up against Sungjoo, nor even up against these ridiculous followers of Siakera. They were peace lovers, silly believers in that love could conquer all; Wenhan knew from experience that a well placed weapon could conquer anything that love could do. And yet at the moment, he was their prisoner.

It wouldn't be for long, they had to realize that. Just because they had been able to hold Sungjoo here didn't mean that they could keep Wenhan similarily confined. He was smarter, faster, more skilled than Sungjoo had ever been, and now that the other had fallen out of the Dark Lady's grace, he would be an easy target. Once Wenhan escaped, anyway. For the time being, he was content to wait and let himself heal before showing these love-blinded fools the truth of who they were messing with.

Noise caught his attention and he moved to the door, pressing his ear gingerly against the crack between the door and the doorjamb. Gingerly because his head was throbbing at the moment, and any physical contact was enough to serve as a harsh reminder the beating he had taken. When I catch Sungjoo, he thought darkly. 

Focusing on the moment at hand, he listened closely. It seemed that footsteps were drawing near and he could guess that it was dinner time. Likely a priest was bringing him his daily broth and a bread; he grimaced at the thought of the salty meal and gave an involuntary shiver. If this was how they fed their acolytes then he was surprised that they had anyone to serve at the White Temple. 

The footsteps drew closer, two pairs of them, he thought, and then the sound of the bar being lifted. Right on time. He fought dow