Teklavit snatched something (pebble of some sort) inside the pocket of his cloak and tossed it to his foaming mouth. He then laid himself freely on the muddied ground, not bothering to throw a glance at Ned. Green dusty flames danced around him.
"How come you're out?" Ned said desperately. Sweat molded on his forehead, his face, and body.
"Thank that little prick there," Rassus' voice felt a sudden numbness inside Ned's head. "Don't mind me, 179. Mind what's on your neck."
"No thanks," Ned muttered and raised his hand. It felt as though his limbs weighed dozens of tons.
From his hand felt cold steel wrapped around his neck. The steel felt cold on his neck that traveled through his body.
It took Ned moments to realize the thing around his neck coiling like a serpent. Shackles. Like Tiathe, but he was more fitting and smooth. As if it was made specifically for him alone.
"Why?" Ned said to Teklavit.
