Vyan tilted his head slightly, the soft click of his tongue echoing through the dreadful silence like a ticking clock in a mausoleum.
"You know…" he murmured, almost absentmindedly, his voice too calm for the wreckage it carried. "It's a shame all of this is limited to such a privileged audience. I think," he said with a touch of casual cruelty, "the common folk deserve to see what's going on here. They've been deluded for the last sixteen years. It seems cruel to deprive them of the truth."
Clyde stepped up behind him with his hands clasped neatly behind his back with a sly smile. "Shall I display it on the capital plaza wall, Your Grace? I hear it's the best place for mass gathering."
Vyan flashed him a grin. "That'd be lovely, Clyde. Thanks." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "But… this eyesore has overstayed its welcome." He glanced at the still bleeding corpse with the dismay of watching a mosquito. "I should probably get rid of that." He snapped his fingers.
