[ A flash of anger and self-recrimination, followed by quiet, anxious murmuring, indistinct and nearly inaudible.
He tenses, his hand instinctively rising to fight off Emet's grip on his throat, but of course there's nothing there. The sigil thrums with ice-cold power there's a brief, futile struggle, and the command etches itself into his aether. ]
Aye.
[ The bitter taste of humiliation mixes with his mental voice. ]
no subject
He tenses, his hand instinctively rising to fight off Emet's grip on his throat, but of course there's nothing there. The sigil thrums with ice-cold power there's a brief, futile struggle, and the command etches itself into his aether. ]
Aye.
[ The bitter taste of humiliation mixes with his mental voice. ]
'Tis out of my hands now.