I'd given up on trying to tell what date it was. All I knew was that it was late at night, a few hours after Cerys had thrown the fur blanket at me and even longer after my attempt to escape had blown up in my face. I was busy thinking - nothing positive.

What am I doing?

Really, what am I doing?                          

Sitting wrapped up in a blanket, staring at a locked door and sulking.

But... What else was there to do?                               

Sleep?

Nightmares.

Leave?

No chance.

…

…Maybe I deserve this, some small, broken part of me whispered.

Maybe that teleport killed me, and this is my punishment.

It was all just so hopeless, all just so completely and utterly hopeless. A pair of twin soul moonstones hadn't so much as scratched whatever wretched artefact was wrapped around my neck. Because that's what it was—an artefact. It was too strong, far, far too strong to be a simple mana suppressor or a control collar. Cerys had reached into my dreams, accidentally, of course, yet still… how? She also knows my name…

With a steadying breath, I sat back against the wall, pulling up the blanket she'd given me, and closed my eyes. My focus was on the embers I had managed to gather over several days of intense concentration. There was nothing I could actually do with the energy; no spell I could muster nor technique to perform; they just… moved.

Flutter left, flutter right, up, down, and then up again.

Despite this, however, my mind, as it often did, returned to the… moment on the bed. Starved and desperate, I had allowed her to explore me, as she had put so elegantly it. Throughout my long, long life, that would be remembered as a low point. Pushed to orgasm by some spoilt rotten snake. What stung most was how quickly she had managed it, even despite her clear inexperience. Worser still was that I had allowed it.

Everything she did was my choice in some sick and twisted way. The first moment, the kiss the… exploration. Why?

Left, left, right, the sparks floated.

But why had she done it? Why please me, and not the opposite, as she had during our first interaction? Did she truly think that a smattering of warmth would have me suddenly willingly submitting?

…she does, doesn't she?

I centred the spark in my chest, storing it in the metaphysical place where mana existed when not in use. I'd initially attempted to get it to leave my body so I could burn the collar, but too much magical usage triggered the artefact and cut me off. Too little usage and my connection to the mana would falter, and it would sink back into me, lost forever.

What I needed was an in-between, but the skill required to do so was beyond me, even despite decades of experience.

I thought once more about killing her.

There was a chance that doing so would deactivate the collar, yes, but there was a far more harrowing chance that it would lock the collar to me forever, and with it attached to me, I could no longer heal myself and would thus begin to age normally. 

If that were the case, then the portals would remain open indefinitely.

I wasn't the only mage left in Reon, even after eight-ten's little rampage through the country, but I was the only imperial one left still in one piece, and that meant I had knowledge of rifts. I'd tried to reach out to the other countries for assistance, to their Lord Knights, but it was hopeless… he may have gotten to them too. Leylines stretched across realms, and with them tainted, with the exodus of mythic creatures, it…

I was spiralling again, I realised.

I exhaled, wrapped myself up in the blanket, and laid down upon my pillow. 

I was tired, and cold, and still hungry, and just... didn't have the energy for thinking any more. Why even bother? Maybe in some sense, Cerys was right; life was nothing but misery and stress, and failure, and what could I even do when-

I felt my eyes widen and my breathing quicken.

To agree with that creature on even a fundamental level was... terrifying, and yet I did.

Four years of failure drained you no matter how you looked at it. And as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, cold and alone, I wondered if I would've even been able to do anything had I managed to reach the natural energy surge. It wasn't even guaranteed it would be a portal.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and sank further into my pillows. Nightmares be damned, I was beyond exhausted.

I woke some time later, the crystals glowing brighter than usual, signalling either morning or the afternoon. Unlike every other day so far, however, no one else woke me up. For once, I was the first to rise. Slowly, I sat up, squinting against the harsh light. As my gaze drifted to Cerys, I found myself flinching at the intensity of the stare she was sending my way. It was sharp, unsettling, and I couldn't help but feel like she was waiting for something.

"You have a lot of nightmares," she said, her eyes red.

I bristled and looked away, not at all bothered that I'd disturbed her sleep. "Can you see my dreams?" She asked. "Or am I just cursed with yours?"

Too tired to play our little game, I spoke honestly: "No, I can't see your dreams. It's not like I want to share mine anyway." One nightmare in particular surged to mind, sharp and horrid. "...what did you see?"

She shrugged her remaining limb. Her prosthetic was unattached, I idly noticed. "Purple fire, some human, and... lightning? Are you going to explain what it means?"

I exhaled.

No mention of blue dragons...

"An old enemy," I admitted, not wanting an argument so early in the day, my voice a low rasp. "One I lost to…."

"And eight-ten?" She pressed, her gaze unwavering.

I hesitated, almost instinctively, but sensing no reason not to, I said, "Its name."

Cerys cocked her head to the side, repeating the strange designation slowly under her breath. "Eight-ten... Not much of a name, is it?"

“A moniker, I suppose," I muttered, swallowing hard. "We never heard its true name. I'm not sure it ever had one..."

The pause was thicker this time. "We?" She asked slowly, her tone almost... cautious.

I stiffened, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Yes. We..." I trailed off.

"Who else was with you? Other mages?"

I looked away, realising I'd given too much away. "That's not your concern."

She frowned and huffed, glancing at her door for a moment before returning her eyes to my limp form. She did not, however, say anything more on the matter, nor did she speak at all until an anxious Betrys slithered in, peeking her sleek snout into the room before fully joining us in the silence. "Sister?" She said softly, earning Cerys' languid gaze.

“Yes?" She mumbled, focus clearly elsewhere.

“Breakfast is ready, and Father was wondering where you are," said the little snake, claws tapping quietly against the doorframe. “Sister, are you—"

“Yes, I'm coming," Cerys called out, scrambling to attach her prosthetic and remove the mound of blankets from atop her. “Um, Teran, you…" She paused, catching the slip, behaving as though she hadn't called me by my name several times already. “Wait here; you're still in trouble."

I rolled my eyes but said nothing.

“I—I could watch him for a little bit," said Betrys, earning a glare from her sister. “I've already eaten, and I don't have much else to do. Father hasn't given me any duties…"

“He never gives you anything to do," snarled a sour sounding Cerys. “You're more pampered than he is, but fine, stare at my pet for half an hour if you want to. Just don't dare think he'll touch you." I raised a brow at the bitterness in her voice.

Betrys' soft eyes widened, her shallow cheeks darkening with embarrassment. “Never!" She squawked. “I could never force someone to, uh, do such a thing…"

“Why not?" Cerys stared at her sister, her posture exceptionally stiff. “You're smaller and weaker than me; it's not like anybody else will want you." I watched the exchange, stunned. Siblings fought; they teased; they bullied, but that felt… real.

“Cerys…" Betrys warbled.

“Just don't touch him." She paused as she slipped past her sibling. “He's mine. Toughen up, and maybe you'll get your own." And with that said, she was gone, the clink of her false limb echoing down the hallway, not that I paid it much notice—my attention was solely on the gaunt lindwurm standing trembling opposite me, her wide eyes glistening with visible upset.

She, unlike the others, seemed aware I was more than the feral pets some lindwurms dragged around. She hadn't yet done anything, but I wondered if she was my way out.

But… I had to work slowly. She was shaken enough as it was.

“What's your name?" I began.

“Um…" She stammered, looking around as though there were anyone else in the room besides the two of us. Her eyes settled on me. “I-I'm Betrys." She swallowed and slithered in closer, gently closing the door, but unlike her sibling, she did not lock it. “I'm Cerys' clutchmate," she explained, stopping close to the bed, her slim paw holding on to the mattress.

“Clutchmate?" I repeated slowly, as though I'd never spoken the word.

She nodded, licking her flat lips, pointed ears twitching as someone passed in the hallway. “We came from the same group of eggs." She smiled weakly. “I'm actually older by a few minutes." That caught my attention, which she noticed. “A lot of dragons assume I'm younger, but no… I'm just a, um… runt. Not fit for much."

“Really?" I tilted my head, trying not to seem too obvious. “You seem so regal."

She smiled broadly but stopped herself as if unsure how to react to a compliment. “You're just saying that," she said. “I know I'm worthless…"

I paused, caught off guard, wondering if anyone in Cerys' family was at all stable.

“Why would you be worthless?" I replied softly, part of me wanting to earn her trust, and part of me genuinely curious.

Her grip on the blankets tightened.

“I—I'm not smart like Cerys, or strong like Daera. I'm just kind of… here."

I shrugged, making a show of the gesture. “I'm just here too."

Her jaw tightened “I know…" She said slowly, her voice shuddering. “I'm sorry." She swallowed hard. “D-Do you have a name?"

“Teran." Testing the waters, I held out an open hand. Cautiously, as though I would strike her, she edged closer until I could make out the small bite marks on her long, slim neck. Suddenly I was reminded of the marks on my upper lip, but I pushed down the disgust. Eventually she settled on her stomach, balanced so she could extend a limb. I took the offered paw, squeezing lightly and taking a moment to marvel at how smooth and small the scales were and just how soft the pads on her palm were.

She wasn't letting go, I noticed, deep into the contact. She was just standing there, staring cheerily at the point our hands joined, watching the light movement.

“Betrys?" I tried gently.

She pulled back as though struck, cheeks warm and eyes wide. “Sorry!" She moved away. “I didn't mean to annoy you. Please don't tell Cerys."

I laughed immediately. “Please…" I grinned. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm kind of chained to the wall. I'm not the biggest fan of your sister." I paused. “Honestly, you could do whatever you wanted, and I wouldn't say anything. I'd probably reward you."

Come on…

“Anything?" She leaned in closer. “And what do you mean by reward?"

“I'm an imperial mage, Betrys. I can do whatever I want. Reality is more of a suggestion if I'm being honest. The only reason I'm trapped here is because I messed up a big spell and ran out of energy. Take the collar off and I'll give you a wish—whatever you want." I would, as well, and that helped sell the lie. I wouldn't be able to grant her whatever she wanted, but I'd try.

Not before testing out that dismantle spell on Cerys, of course, or maybe… hm… what else could I do? Maybe a nerve burner? Scorch away the pleasure centres. Heh.

“And the whatever I wanted part?" She leaned in closer again, distracting me from my idle fantasies. I looked closely at her—the flush, the wide eyes—and felt myself shudder. Of course she'd focus in on that part—they really were siblings…

Putting on a smile, I said, “Like I said, I'm not too fond of Cerys, but you seem okay, so I won't be telling her whatever you say or do." She nodded, looked at the door, and then back.

“How do I…" She began clapping. I steadied my breathing, bracing myself for whatever thing she'd ask for. “How do I, um, take it off?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. Surprised, I took too long to reply. I figured she'd ask for something first. Cute, but naïve. “Teran?"

“C-Check the back for a seam or something." I said, sitting up, heart pounding. Betrys nodded and slithered closer, claws gently holding the chain and eyes scanning the collar for some kind of give. She was… not hot. Cerys always had an air of heat around her. Idly, I wondered if the smaller lindwurm had some kind of illness—she did seem to shudder with each movement, as though the effort of moving was too much for her body.

Like that poor Archon… Ugh, focus, Teran.

“I can't find anything," she said, sounding tense. “It's solid."

“Shit, that's what I was worried about. Do you—can you see a controller somewhere?" I tried, feeling my escape slipping away with every passing moment. “Like a rod or a bracelet or something?"

Betrys stepped back, shivering with what I considered fear. She looked around quickly, as if the device would be in plain sight. Slowly, I realised that I was pushing her. “It's…" I stopped, taking a breath. “It's okay, Betrys," I said finally. “You tried, and that's enough. Thank you. You… You really are nice."

She looked back to me, panicked, but then the worry faded. “Thank you… I—I'm sorry I can't help you. I can, um, take you off the wall?"

The thought was tempting, but ultimately fruitless. “No, that would only make things worse. Even if I left this room, the guards would grab me, or Cerys would activate some kind of…" My words faded. Never had I seen her so much as mutter when activating the collar's abilities. It was almost like she knew magic.

Which… was… impossible.

Right?

“There's this," said Betrys, earning my gaze. With a quiet sigh, I looked over at where she sat, her paws wrapped around a small, dark book. “It's got…" She flipped through it and stopped, head tilted in confusion. “She's… talking to herself."

“What?" I tried on reflex to move closer, only for the collar to catch my neck and force me down, knocking the breath from me. She quickly hurried over, the tome clutched tightly in her paws. She moved to my side, brushing close, not that I cared. She opened it up to the most recent entry.

"Hello. I am having difficulty with my pet. He refuses even the smallest kiss in exchange for food and is thus starving himself. How should I handle this? I fear he may not last long."

“What the fuck?" I leaned closer, brushing her neck, squinting tightly at the words.

"Princess Cerys, you must feed the human. That does not mean you have to do it freely. Transform the reward into something else, a treat to bring about submission. Consider offering him pleasure of his own, all while remaining in control. After that, give him food."

“Is she, um, crazy?"

I stared at the words, and then at Cerys'. There were differences in style and the way they held the quill. The princesses were scratchy and rough, whilst the responses were neat and clean. She was not in fact talking to herself but to someone else, which made sense. It made so much sense that I began to grow worried.

“"Worse than that," I stammered, motioning for her to flip back to earlier entries. “She's talking to someone, and I'm almost certain it's not a lindwurm."

“I don't know what to do," it started. “Betrys is too weak, too small; her eggs will be fragile and pathetic like she is. But why do they love her? Why does she get everything? All the affection. It's not fair. I'm better than her at everything, and still... still, I get nothing. Why? It's not my fault I'm ugly; it's not my fault I only have one leg. None of it is. I hate this place. I hate my family, I hate my town, I hate EVERYTHING. I just want…" The ink pooled, splattering against the page, as if the weight of her thoughts was too much to hold down. “... I just want to be loved. Not as an egg-carrier, not as some creature they tolerate, but as a dragon. But I'll never have that. I'll never have anything I want."

I didn't feel much pity, only a distant acknowledgement of her misery. Betrys did, her eyes pooling with tears that I didn't understand—anger? Pity? Love? It didn't matter. All that mattered was the response.

“You could."

Another pause.

“You could have everything you want and more."

I could feel my heart in my ears.

“You just need to…"The to..." s began to twist on the page, bending and curling. A swarm of thick, viscous ink that converged into the centre before fading entirely. My limbs trembled, the same as Betrys', whose breathing grew desperate. She made a motion to throw the book, but I placed a palm against the forelimb.

“...It's rude to listen in on people's private conversations, you two."

I took the book from her hands and scanned the pages, searching for some sort of glyph, rune, or some other such symbol. There was nothing, not a trace of magic. It was impossible. On every page repeated the line about rudeness. It knew what I was doing, which meant the speaker was powerful, absurdly so. A demon, perhaps? No… their stench was unmissable, and unless it was a demon lord, I'd be able to sense something.

What in Faram's name is this thing?

“So, how have you been, Teran?" The pipes froze solid. I could no longer shift them. “I'd hate it if my favourite murderer felt... uncomfortable."

My stomach flipped, a feeling of bile bubbling up in my stomach.

“Murderer?" Whispered Betrys.

“Child murderer, specifically."

I could barely breathe. The pieces clicked into place all at once.

The collar, an artefact-level device capable of controlling an imperial-class mage.

The runes burning themselves into the ground beneath me.

The shared nightmares… a forced bridge, a shallow attempt at connection.

“Pick your jaw up, buddy. You've only got a couple of minutes before that sad little princess comes back, so I'd try and hide this book if I were you."

Of course a revenant could sense our actions through a book; of course something with that kind of strength could bind me so easily. “Scratch that—ten seconds. She skipped dessert."

But I couldn't just throw it away; I couldn't just let it keep speaking with Cerys. The situation was beyond my own feelings. I couldn't let eight-ten get his hooks in this country, in these people, wretched as I thought them to be. I kept holding on to the book until Cerys came back into view. “Hope you enjoy the beating, bud." The book slammed shut just as she locked eyes with me. Slung around her back was a pack, heavy with what was likely food.

She stood still in the doorway, eyes wide, staring in complete disbelief.

Her bright pink eyes trailed from me to the book and then to Betrys, where they stayed. Quickly, I realised how close we were, and how her paw was resting on my back. “Betrys, why—"

“Where did you get this book?" I said immediately, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever this was.

“Did you read it?" She asked coldly.

“Yes. Cerys, I need you to tell me where it came from. Your life could be in danger."

“I know what I'm doing. My friend promised me things. He hasn't disappointed yet."

I tried to stand. “You don't!" I snapped. “This guy, this thing you're being manipulated by? You have no idea what he's done or what he'll do if you let him get his hooks in you. He tore open-" I choked, cut off by the power of the collar, and then the pain began. It wasn't simply the restriction on my mana, but a true, honest pain. I stumbled, falling back, grasping at my chest, feeling like she'd stuck and injected me with molten metal.

For once, for once I pushed back, grabbing desperately at the sparks I'd gathered over the week and a half. The pain was too much too soon. I just couldn't take it anymore. The sparks raced up my chest and into my throat, clashing against the collar. For the briefest of moments, I could breathe, but then the embers died, and it all crashed back down, drowning me in agony.

“You think I don't know I'm played, pet? You think I've survived without knowing when someone's lying to me?" Cerys sneered, sparing her sister the barest of glances. “Leave." She didn't snap at her; she didn't snarl nor growl, just that one word. Her sister obeyed instantly, leaving me to face her fury.

“C-Cerys," I gasped. “You need to—" She struck me, sending my head reeling to one side. I looked back to her after regaining some sense, stunned that she'd actually hit me with such force. The strike in the restaurant had stung, but that was more of a slap.

I caught myself and shuffled back in time to avoid another. “What the fuck are you doing!?"

She snarled hatefully and lunged, but I dodged, scraping my back against the stone wall, watching in satisfaction as she smashed her snout against the wall and fell back, groaning, right nostril bleeding already.

Sensing an opportunity, I jumped, landing atop her stomach. Quickly, I grabbed at the midsection of my chain and brought it down to wrap around her throat, only for it to lack in length at the very last inch. She saw this, hissed, and tried to snap at my face, missing again. I raised a closed fist up high, only for her to wrap her tail around my waist and fling me back against the wall, where the back of my head smashed into the hard stone surface.

I gasped, vision swirling with dark spots, the tang of blood from my bitten tongue spilling into the rest of my frazzled senses. I was far too slow to stop the final pounce. She grabbed my shoulders and slammed me bodily onto the floor. I groaned and tried to wriggle free, but she coiled completely around me and held my arms down, the harsh metal prosthetic bruising my muscles and her claws digging deep into my other arm, tearing through the fabric and then skin.

“Get the fuck—" I snarled, wriggling harder.

And then she bit me.

Her teeth, more like razors than anything else, dug into the flesh of my neck, her long fangs piercing me in an instant. I writhed, trying harder to escape, to push past the building tears and pained gasps, but it was all for naught. She held me until I stopped resisting. “You're mine," she growled. “That's how this works. You lost! You lost to me… and that means I can do anything I want!"

I tried once more to push her away, trying not to whimper in pain at the agony in my neck.

“Stop fighting!" She snapped, pulling her teeth from my skin to look me in the eyes. “You lost! I own you! You're mine! Y-You don't get to do this!"

I pushed again; she coiled tighter.

“Stop it!"

“N-No," I gasped, only for her to dig her claws in deeper and bring her maw back to my shoulder, where she lightly brushed her teeth against my skin. “Get off me!"

Another bite, less harsh but enough for me to freeze up a second time, the instinct too great to break. My heart was hammering in my chest, the bite marks already throbbing in response to the erratic pulsing. Despite my pause, she pressed harder, and I bit my lip and lay still. “You lost…" she said, the movement of her lips sparking agony. “Which means… I get to do anything I want." And then her paw removed itself from my wrist. I shifted, but she bit harder, so I stopped. Blood was starting to drip from my neck and onto the stone floor, the imperfect craftsmanship resulting in it flowing back down against me.

Her paw, despite the roughness of the rest of her, gently traced its way down my side and to my waist, where it lingered before dipping down. I wriggled again, and she bit harder.

The blood was warm against me, so warm, boiling almost, and so full of… life.

So full of opportunity.

I clawed at the sparks I'd gathered, the very last of them, barely noticeable, and shifted them to my neck, where blood spilt and gathered on fangs. Ordinarily, it would dissipate, but there was a nice pool of me spilling onto the floor, a nice conduit for a power capable of tearing open rifts.

But still, I hesitated.

“Cerys, wait, please."

I didn't want to be a monster, not like him.

The mana sunk into the blood and thickened immediately, regaining strength and linking me to the innate corruption of man.

“Cerys," I said again as the blood began to shift and rumble.

Her paw slipped beneath the waistband before just… stopping.

A shard of dark red glass formed from the blood, twitching and writhing, wanting desperately to strike, begging me to.

The snake's paw lingered, but she didn't move, nor did she remove her teeth from my throat. She was completely frozen, as though cursed. The hemomantic blade shivered and wriggled, just barely held back by my faltering will. “Why don't you want this…?" She whispered, so quietly I just barely caught the words. She'd pulled back an inch, her teeth pressing in but not quite penetrating. “I—I won, I beat you, so why?"

It was pure agony, but I dissipated the blood magic construct and, to my surprise, managed to draw the energy out from the life-sustaining liquid and into my body, more than replenishing the power spent. “Because I don't want to," I said against her neck.

“But I won. I beat you, I pinned you, I own you, so why… why won't you...?" Her paw removed itself from my trousers and returned to its position on my wrist. “Why can't you just let me have this?"

“Because I don't want it." I tried to look away, but she had completely covered me, smothering my vision with the pinkish red of her scales. “"Do you?"

“Of course I do!" She snarled, claws tightening. “I want the pleasure; I want to feel you and be felt!" Her hold deepened, and I bit back a hiss of pain as I felt the bones in my wrist grind against one another. “And I can if I wanted to! I could make you do it, force you to mate with me. Hate me as much as you want; your body would respond eventually... warmth and wetness tend to have that effect."

I paused, waiting for some of her desperate energy to dissipate.

“But you won't," I said, stating it more as a fact than an opinion, even despite the trembling in my voice. “Will you?"

“I could," she replied, at last pulling back, her nose but an inch from my own.

“…then do it," I tested.

Her lips curled into a sour smirk, eyes darkening. “So you do want this."

“No, I don't. I'm just proving a point." I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, nearly painful against my ribs. It was such a dangerous game—all of my guesses were just that… guesses. I scarcely knew her, in truth. “But, like you said, you own me; you won, so… go ahead. Do what you want."

“So you submit; you admit I'm stronger, that I'm the winner?" She begged, her voice audibly quivering. Her claws pressed harder against my wrist, her snout brushing against the tip of my nose, her scales warm and smooth. I nodded slowly, my heart thundering so loudly it drowned out every other sound in the room.

“You win," I said softly, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “You're so strong, so powerful, but I don't want this."

For a moment, her expression shifted, lips curling into a smile. But it wasn't relief or satisfaction. It was something brittle, something that would crack at the slightest wrong word. “I… I can do this," she whispered, almost to herself. Her tail tightened its coils around my waist, and I felt the heat of her body against mine. “I can take what I want. I deserve this. You said so." For a moment I feared that I had in fact said the wrong thing and had only fanned the flames of her want.

Her claws scraped against my skin, leaving a sharp sting in their wake as her grip faltered, then clenched again. “I deserve it," she repeated, louder, as if trying to convince herself. “I—I finally win, and I get to have this. I get to have you."

Her tail slackened, but only slightly. I could feel her weight shifting, her breath hot against my neck. “"You could," I said, my words low and deliberate, tinged with fear. “You said it yourself—my body will respond eventually, even if I hated you for it."

Her expression twisted, a flash of anger crossing her face before it crumbled into something raw and vulnerable. "It would feel good," she said quietly. "For both of us."

Slowly, I nodded. "It probably would... I've never been with a dragon, but, y-yeah, it would."

"So, do you..."

"No, I don't want to mate with you." I swallowed. "But does that matter?"

Her claws left my wrists entirely, and her coiling of my body slackened. She looked down at me, her pink eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can do anything I want," she whispered. “But it wouldn't mean anything if… if you didn't… if it wasn't real."

I swallowed hard, my throat aching from where her fangs had pressed. Slowly, cautiously, I shifted beneath her. “Then stop," I said, my voice soft. “Let me go. Stop trying to win something that isn't even worth winning."

Her head dipped low, the faint trembling of her tail betraying the tension she tried to conceal. When she finally spoke, her voice wavered but carried a sharp edge. “You don't get it, do you?" She spat, claws scraping the floor. “He promised me this would work. He promised me you'd want me."

My stomach twisted. I stared up at her, careful not to move too suddenly with her still looming over me. “What?" I asked slowly, though I already knew the answer.

“The one who gave me the collar," she said, her tone a mix of anger and desperation. Her claws flexed against the stone floor, her eyes narrowing as if daring me to challenge her. “He told me how to use it. He told me... He told me you'd see how strong I am. That you'd understand… That you'd love me."

“Cerys," I said cautiously, “you don't know who you're dealing with."

She snapped her back down toward me, her eyes blazing. “Don't patronise me!" She snarled, her tail lashing behind her. “You think you're so much better than me? I'm not stupid. He's my friend, and he's helped me. He's the only one who's ever helped me."

“He's not your friend," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the rising tension in my chest. “You're being manipulated. He's using you."

“Using me?" She barked a bitter laugh, her fangs glinting as she sneered. “Everyone uses me! My father, my family, the court—they've all used me. At least he cares."

“No, he doesn't," I said firmly, my voice cutting through her tirade. “Cerys, do you even know what he is?"

Her claws scraped against the stone, and her tail tightened around my legs. “I don't care what he is," she hissed. “He actually listens to me! He told me how to make you see me. That's more than anyone else has ever done."

I felt a surge of anger rising, partly at her and partly at the monster she thought was her friend. “Cerys," I said, leaning up as much as her grip allowed, “you're talking about a revenant. Do you understand what that means?"

Her eyes narrowed further, her teeth bared. “I don't care! He's powerful. He's smart. He—he said you'd want me if I just..." Her voice cracked, and she faltered for a moment before snapping back. “If I did it right. If I showed you I was in control."

I stared at her, my chest tight with a mix of fear and frustration. “And you think forcing someone into submission is how that's done?" I asked, my voice low. “You think he's telling you this because he wants what's best for you?"

“You don't know anything!" She yelled, her claws tightening on my wrists, enough to make me flinch. “You think you're so wise, so righteous, but you don't know what it's like to have nothing. To be nothing! He gave me a chance. He gave me a way to have something. To have you, and everything else I could ever want."

I exhaled sharply, trying to keep calm despite the weight pressing on my chest. “Cerys," I said, my tone softening despite myself, “He doesn't care about you. He's using you like a pawn, just like everyone else you're angry at."

Her snarl deepened, her fangs inches from my throat. “Shut up!" She snapped, fangs flashing. “You don't know what you're talking about. He said you'd try to turn me against him, that you'd lie. But I don't believe you. I don't have to believe you."

I clenched my teeth, my body tense beneath her. “And what if I'm not lying? What if I'm telling you the truth, and he's just playing you like a fool?"

Her breath hitched, but the anger in her gaze didn't waver. “Then what am I supposed to do, huh?" She barked, her voice cracking. “You tell me, oh wise and mighty mage. What am I supposed to do? Keep being pathetic? Keep being nothing? Keep being a cripple who's only good for eggs?"

“Cerys—"

“No!" She shouted directly in my face, her claws digging in harder. “You don't get to look at me like that! Y-You're a pet! I keep you chained to my fucking wall!"

“Then why would you want me!?" I snapped, tired of the circular logic. “What am I? A—Am I some pet you can treat however you want, or am I someone you want, someone you can't force things with?"

But I already knew the answer.

And so did she.

“It's both, isn't it?" I said, slowly pulling myself backwards and away from her. She let me, but her claws still held on to the fabric of my shirt, catching me for a moment. “You want me to need you, to come to you willingly, but... you also want to have me whenever you want, to control me completely. To love and to dominate." Just barely I pulled back, escaping her, her paw falling down. I stumbled back to my feet, catching myself on the wall as I looked down on her. “…How old are you?"

For a moment she looked furious, teeth bared and tail lashing, but I was tired and hurting and just didn't care anymore. “Does that matter?" She gritted.

“How old are you, Cerys?"

She looked away, lips quirking in a scoff, but I didn't move nor react. Eventually her bluster faded and her eyes dropped to the floor. “…eighteen," she whispered.

“And how long have you been that age?"

Another snarl, another attempt to look bigger. “It doesn't… why…" She huffed and scraped her claws on the floor. “A-A month."

I couldn't stop the sharp breath from escaping as I turned my back to her. “A month," I repeated, mostly to myself. “You're barely out of your egg. You don't even know what you want."

“I know what I want!" She snapped, yet her voice cracked as though the declaration physically hurt. Her claws scraped against the floor, and I heard her coil herself tightly, like a spring wound too hard. “I want to feel like I matter to someone. Like I'm not just... this!" Her tail lashed, and I didn't need to see her face to know she was on the verge of breaking. “I've spent my whole life being told I'm useless, Teran. I'm too broken to fight, too cold to care for. Only good as a bargaining chip... except for this—" she motioned wildly at me, though I didn't turn to look. “This is the only thing I've ever had control over, the only thing I've ever been good at."

I paused, her words hitting harder than I wanted to admit. “Cerys, control isn't the same as love," I said evenly. “And if you keep trying to force it, you're going to lose whatever chance you have to find what you're looking for."

“And what about you?" She demanded, her voice sharp but wavering. “You think I don't see it? You hate me, but you're still here. You haven't run, haven't fought, haven't done anything but sit there and—"

“Because I can't!" I spun to face her, and the force of it made her flinch back. “Because you've chained me to a wall! You've taken every choice away from me and expect me to what? Just fall into your arms because you're lonely?"

She recoiled, her expression cracking as the anger in her eyes softened into something hollow.

For a moment, she looked just like a child—a child trying desperately to wear an adult's skin. “I just…" Her claws twisted into the ground, her voice barely audible. “I just don't want to be alone."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. And in that moment, I saw her for what she truly was: not a tyrant, not a monster, but a stupid girl who had been given power without the tools to wield it. A girl who had spent her entire life being told she was nothing and who, in her desperation to be something, was tearing down the very thing she wanted to build.

I crossed my arms, keeping my voice steady despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You don't want to be alone, so what? You think that justifies everything you've done? You think it justifies anything? The first night here you practically tortured me until I gave in."

Her head shot up, eyes flashing with indignation. “I'm trying to fix it!" she snapped. “To make something out of this mess! I didn't ask for any of this—"

“And neither did I!" I cut her off, voice sharp. “But here we are. You've got power now, Cerys. The control you wanted oh so badly. And what did you do with it?" I gestured between us. “You chained me, took away every choice I had, and forced me into... whatever this is."

Her jaw tightened, but her eyes flickered with uncertainty. “I—I didn't force—"

“Didn't you?" I asked coldly, taking a step closer. “You pinned me down, made me clean you up like I was some... toy." The words came out bitter, and I watched her recoil as though they'd struck her physically. “And now you want me to pretend like that didn't happen? That you're just some poor girl who doesn't know better?"

Her coils shifted, tightening around herself defensively. “I was just... proving a point," she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Proving a point?" I let out a dry, humourless laugh. “The only point you've proven is how little you care about what anyone else wants. All you've done is take. And for what? Control? A sense of power? What you're doing isn't love—it's desperation."

She flinched, her claws digging into the floor as she struggled to find her voice. “I'm not desperate," she hissed, but it sounded hollow. “I... I just wanted..."

“To feel like you matter," I finished for her, softer this time. “I know. But control isn't the same as connection. Forcing someone to stay doesn't mean they actually care about you."

Her lips trembled, and she looked away, her tail lashing weakly against the floor. “You don't understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He told me you would. He promised..."

“He?" My tone was low, dangerous. "The revenant? The one I've been screaming at you about? He's a liar, and he's using you."

“No..." she whispered, but it sounded more like she was convincing herself. “He wouldn't... he promised..."

I softened my tone, though the edge remained. “He's promising you what you want to hear because he knows how badly you'll cling to it. But he's not your friend, Cerys. He's your leash. your collar."

Her eyes widened, shimmering with tears that refused to fall. “I don't... I don't know what to do," she said, her voice small and raw. “If he's lying, then... what do I have?"

I didn't answer immediately, the weight of her question hanging between us. Finally, I sighed, my voice quieter but firm. “You have a choice. To stop this now, to stop listening to him and trying to force something that isn't real. Or you can keep letting him control you and lose everything you're so desperate to hold on to."

Cerys looked at me, her gaze unsteady, her claws scraping shallow grooves into the floor as though grounding herself in the physical would stave off the spiralling thoughts. I let her sit in silence, knowing anything I said now would feel hollow, like pouring water into a broken jar.

Finally, I exhaled, the sound heavy in the still air. “Cerys..." I paused, debating whether this was the right moment to say what I was about to. But the truth had a way of cutting through delusions, and if there was one thing she needed right now, it was clarity. “I'm sixty-two years old."

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing with disbelief. “What?"

“I said, 'I'm sixty-two," I repeated, meeting her gaze steadily. “Mages like me... we age slowly. Our magic is constantly healing us, repairing what time wears down. I stopped looking my age decades ago."

For a moment, she said nothing, her expression a tangle of confusion and disbelief. “But... you look—"

“Young?" I offered with a humourless smile. “That's… accidental. But my life? My experience? It spans more years than you can imagine."

She blinked, her mouth opening slightly before closing again. Her tail twitched, coiling tighter. “Why are you telling me this?" she finally asked, her voice defensive, wary.

“Because I've seen what desperation does to people," I said quietly, leaning back against the wall. “I've seen how it twists them, makes them cling to the wrong things, listen to the wrong voices. You're not the first person I've met who's been hurt by it, and you won't be the last. But you're young, Cerys. So young that you still have time to change. To learn."

She scoffed, the sound brittle. “Learn what? How to be useless? How to be... better at being pathetic?"

I shook my head. “No. How to stop letting that voice in your head dictate what you're worth. How to figure out who you are outside of all the noise."

She looked away, her claws curling into the floor again. “That's easy for you to say. You're... you're a mage; you're free. You've had a life."

“And you think it's been perfect?" I said, sharper than I intended. “Do you think I haven't made mistakes? That I haven't been in dark places, desperate places? You don't get to be sixty-two in my line of work without regrets, Cerys. But you also don't get there without learning to move past them."

She blinked at me, her tail curling tightly around herself, a mix of disbelief and something softer glinting in her eyes. “Sixty-two," she murmured, almost to herself. “You don't even look half that. How is that possible?"

“Magic," I said, my tone steady but distant. “We heal constantly; every spell we cast knits us together just a little more. Cuts that would scar on a human don't leave marks on me. Time doesn't wear me down the same way." I didn't mention the scars she'd left, nor the large gash on the side of my left cheek.

Her claws tapped softly against the stone floor as she processed that, her head tilting slightly. “Then you've lived twice as long as I have, but you're still…" She trailed off, searching for the word.

“Trapped," I finished for her, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. Seems like it doesn't matter how long you live; you can still end up in chains."

Cerys' gaze flickered to the collar around my neck, her expression tightening with something I couldn't quite place. Guilt, maybe.

“You said you've been in dark places," she ventured cautiously. “What kind of places?"

I hesitated, leaning back against the wall. For a moment, I debated telling her at all, but she deserved to understand the person she had chained to her wall. “Dark places like this," I said slowly. “Places where I was forced to follow orders, no matter how much they turned my stomach. You think being an imperial mage is about power? It's not. It's about obedience. About doing what the guild tells you to do, no matter how wrong it feels."

Cerys was quiet for a long moment, her claws scraping softly against the floor as she absorbed my words. Her tail, coiled tightly around herself, loosened just slightly. The tension between us felt like a storm that had passed but left the air thick and heavy.

“So, you've been here before," she said softly, her tone less confrontational.

“In a way," I admitted, letting out a slow breath. “Not with a collar, but… there have been chains of a different kind."

Her eyes flicked toward the collar around my neck, her expression flickering between frustration and something almost vulnerable. For once, she didn't seem so eager to speak. Instead, she traced one claw lightly across the floor, the tip leaving faint lines in the stone.

She finally broke the silence, her voice strained. “You act like I'm the only one who's ever… taken control of you."

“You're not," I said flatly. “But you're the only one who's doing it for reasons you don't even seem to understand."

Her head snapped up, a flash of anger lighting her gaze. “I—I know exactly why I'm doing this," she snapped, but her words lacked conviction.

I scoffed softly, leaning my head back against the wall, unbothered by her whining. “Do you? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're just fumbling in the dark, trying one thing after another and hoping something sticks."

Her tail lashed, but she didn't immediately deny it. “I'm in control," she said instead, a defensive edge to her tone. “You—You belong to me."

I let out a sharp, humourless laugh, shaking my head. “Do I? You've tried to prove that over and over, and here we are—me chained to a wall, and you still haven't gotten what you want."

She recoiled slightly, her lips pulling back into a snarl, but there was a hesitation in her posture. “I—I've gotten plenty," she argued weakly. “You're still here, aren't you? You're still…" Her voice faltered. “Mine."

“You mean like when you tried to force me to eat out of your hand?" I said, my tone dry. “Or when you dangled food in front of me like I was a dog? Or how about when you—"

“Stop," she interrupted sharply, her tail curling tightly around her body. Her expression hardened, but I could see the cracks beneath it. “It's not like you didn't take it."

“You think that means you won?" I countered, narrowing my eyes at her. “I ate because I was starving, not because you proved anything. And every time you pulled one of those stunts, all you showed me was how desperate you are."

Her claws flexed against the floor, her gaze darting away. “I'm not desperate," she muttered, but her voice lacked strength.

“Really?" I pressed, my tone sharp. “Because all I see is someone who keeps trying to prove something but doesn't even know what it is she's trying to prove."

Her tail twitched, and she looked at me with a mix of defiance and uncertainty. “I'm trying to show you that I'm strong," she said, though her words sounded more like a question than a statement.

“You want to know what I see?" I asked, my voice low. “I see someone who doesn't believe she's strong unless someone else tells her so. Someone who thinks power means control and doesn't understand that the two aren't the same."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but it quickly fizzled out into something more vulnerable. “What else am I supposed to do?" she asked, her voice raw. “How else am I supposed to make you see me?"

I let out a slow breath, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe stop trying so hard to make me see something that isn't there," I said.

Her claws scraped against the floor again, and her tail uncoiled just enough to let her move closer. “Then stay," she said, her tone soft but insistent. “Stay for a while. A month. Give me a chance to…" She hesitated, searching for the words. “To show you that I'm not what you think I am."

I stared at her, the weight of her request pressing down on me. “And the collar?" I asked, my voice tight. The portals flashed to mind. My goal. My one remaining purpose.

Her gaze dropped, and she traced a claw along the edge of her tail. “It stays," she said quietly. “For now."

I felt a surge of frustration, but I bit it back. “Cerys…"

“Please," she interrupted, her voice cracking. She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with an unspoken desperation. “I just need time. Time to figure things out. To prove that I'm not… that I'm not just…"

Her words trailed off.

I closed my eyes, letting out a slow, measured breath. “Fine," I said at last, my voice heavy with reluctance and restrained anger. “A month."

Her shoulders sagged, relief flooding her expression. “Okay, a month."

I didn't respond. My gaze dropped to the floor, and I leaned back against the wall, suddenly feeling more exhausted than I had in weeks.

“Thank you," she murmured, almost too softly to hear.

I didn't look at her. Instead, I closed my eyes and let out a slow, unsteady breath. A month. It wasn't freedom, but it was a start.