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Eyes of darkness

The cell was cloaked in darkness, save for the soft glow of the light orb that Mason conjured, casting eerie shadows across the grimy walls. Mason sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, a tray of food balanced on his lap as he faced Desmond, who was still shackled to the wall in his tattered clothes.

With a surprisingly gentle touch, Mason reached out and nudged Desmond's shoulder, rousing him from his slumber. "Wake up," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the walls of the cell.

Desmond stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he peered blearily at Mason. "What now?" he grumbled, his voice thick with sleep and irritation. Mason observed the man, noting that his complexion wasn't as pallid as before. It was evident that he had been given some food, yet it had done nothing to improve his emaciated appearance.

Mason held out the tray of food, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Time to eat," he replied, his tone surprisingly casual given the circumstances
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