A group of men clad in black robes ambled into the main hall of the temple surrounding the man dressed in a white robe. When he entered the room he sat on the throne while the men and women kowtowed before him uniformly uttering the same words of respect.
Yeoh Lang waved his hand impatiently and looked at the four people trembling on the ground. The smile on his face grew wider as he beckoned the youngest of the prisoners.
"Come...," he said and the little boy raised his head his face a sickly shade of pale. He didn't want to go over there but he was picked up by the back of his collar and dropped harshly in front of the high priest.
"Come, don't be afraid young one," he said his voice soft and calm but the aura surrounding him gave one the feeling of danger. The young boy had been born into an environment filled with malice and he could spot anyone who wanted to harm him at a glance.