He seethed with anger. Everything about this day infuriated him, and here he was, safe, yet could do absolutely nothing to leave. What was he going to do? Fly? Even if he could, he’d only be able to leave the mausoleum. Then he’d be trapped in the city with the dragon. He had no magic, and the only weapon he possessed was laughably useless in this situation. No, he was stuck there and likely going to die cold, tired, and alone, far from home, deep beneath the earth, looking upon the source of his shame about to be consumed in the raging fires of an undying evil, and capable of doing nothing to atone for his sins.