The collar was a massive pain in the ass. It limited his magic, made him lethargic and every time he tried to break it, it would shoot an electric current down his body.
The first time he'd tried, using a relic dagger to try to saw through it, he'd been knocked out for three hours. The current had bubbled in his throat and shot through his body. He'd tensed up before screaming out. The bats screeched in reply and flew out into the night as he whimpered on the cave floor, writhing and trying to calm his beating heart. His toes still flinched with small shock waves and his vision blurred.
He woke up on the cave floor, the blue fire lanterns the only thing lighting up his home. All the bats were out hunting. His body felt like it had been left on a grill. He grunted, pulling himself up. His muscles all ached. They were weak and powerless, a side effect of the collar. He gripped at the glinting gold metal, but his fingers were still loose around it, even if he used all his effort.
He shuddered his way to a chaise lounge and threw himself onto it, grunting as his thighs gave out. He pulled up his shirt, his skin was pink and sensitive to the touch and there were faint bruises from where her armour had pressed into him. He hissed as he poked at one. "Emilia Vanis," he muttered scornfully. "I'm going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully." He sunk into the couch and pulled a blanket over himself. "But first a nap. I can't do anything when my magical supply is so low." He thought of his legion of demons, how they'd probably been sliced and diced like mince meat. He grinded his teeth and slept.
He spent the next week on the couch, using his limited magic to conjure up his meals and spell himself clean. He'd been using a potion to deal with his wounds. By Sunday, his magic supply had mostly recovered so he finally dragged himself out of his cocoon and towards the bathroom.
He added soothing salts into the bath and let himself soak into it. Hissing as his bruises absorbed the magic. There was still a massive blue handprint on his thigh, it made him curse her every time he saw it. Heroes, brutish and brainless, in his opinion. All explosive magic and long heavy swords. Fucking collars too. He was going to bake her in his oven and feed her to the bloody bats. He sunk his head under the water, hoping it would soothe his rising blood pressure.
After his bath, he made himself pretty, a great endeavor for all proper villains. Magic worked off of emotions and if you didn't feel fabulous, you wouldn't perform fabulously. So he draped his favorite ivy green gown on and let his hair fall in loose curls. He put on a leather corset for added flair and strutted off to his library. His boots thumped against the cave floor. The bats were returning now and the soft echoes of dawn made it's way into the cave, turning the blue glow into a pretty lilac.
He spent the rest of the day shuffling through his collections and trying to find any information on the collar and his new nemesis. There wasn't a record of her but her knack at explosive magic linked her to a tribe far north. The blonde, blue-eyed Solas clan, who were born with innate body magic and sun abilities. They specialised in weaponry and exported magical artifacts to the academy. His hands thumbed over the collar. He pulsed a small amount of his magic into it. It trembled in reply before vibrating and glowing out bursts of light. He choked at the energy. Hissing when it finally calmed down. He summoned a mirror, trying to get a closer look at it. The metal was new and a pretty pale gold. Good craftsmanship. Expensive material. Not something he would've wasted on an enemy. It looked more like an accessory.
Her words echoed in his mind. Consider it a present. He gritted his teeth. There right under his chin, in pretty cursive were the words Property of Emilia Vanis. Oh. He was going to slaughter that bint. And he was going to enjoy it.
After three more days of cramming all his books on sun magic and magically made relics, he devised out a plan to get the bloody thing off him. Sun magic had the nasty habit of fighting back, so to prepare for what would be nothing short of painful, he spent three hours cooing over his bats. Feeding them little mice and telling them that daddy was going to be out of commission for a bit but he stilled loved them very much.
He drew out his circle using phoenix powder. Stepping inside it, he felt the collar thrum against his Adam's apple. Good, it was responding positively. He spoke out the incantation. Light echoed around him and soft vibrations seeped into his throat. He drew an unsteady breath.
He felt his magic pool in his stomach, let it burn there. Let it rise like flames. Then he brought it out into the world. A sharp current ran through his body. From the tips of his hairs, down his shivering nape, around his trembling waist, between the thick of his thigh, under his knees and all the way down to his toes. He gasped and held in a deep whine.
It hurt. It burned. As though her magic was trying to carve a place into him. Property of Emilia Vanis. He grit his teeth against the pain. Let it overtake him. Let it crawl into his muscles. Let it crawl inside him. He was going to take her magic - and make it his own.
He bellowed out the incantation. The lanterns flickered on the walls. The circle glowed a fiery red and his neck pulsed under the collar. It thrummed over him. Tightened around him in rebellion. Wanting to hold onto him.
He pushed his own magic against it and as the last syllables dripped from his tongue, he felt the magic in the collar bend and buckle. He felt it break under him.
The collar pulsed and clicked open. It fell to the ground with a thump. The magic inside it rushed out of it and up into him. He screamed. His knees buckled. It flooded his insides, pushing down on his lungs, searing into his muscles. His knees hit the floor and he gasped out in pain. Tears fell like diamonds down his heated cheeks. His fingers clawed at the floor for mercy. The magic flooded his system and he stayed there writhing and wailing and letting it pull through him.
When all the magic had finally eased out, the phoenix ash circle lifted up and evaporated. His body shook, muscles tensing sporadically. Small tears still dripping out of him. He held himself, trying to calm his breathing. He let his fingers trace over his neck. It was empty and lighter. The skin had become so much more sensitive under it's constraints. He breathed out a sigh of relief. He was free. He felt the strength return to his limbs and his magical veins reopen fully. He hummed in satisfaction, letting his magic trace over his injuries. The handprint on his thigh still burned.