The world around me is a hellish blur. My senses are distorted, everything moving like a thick, viscous liquid. My body hangs heavy from the chains, each link biting into my wrists and ankles.
The cold, damp stone wall at my back is the only thing keeping me upright, and even that feels like a cruel joke a last comfort before the plunge into madness.
The collar around my neck is the worst of it. It's tight, suffocating. A suppressive force pulses from it, seeping into my skin, burning away any spark of magic I might have summoned.
Thalira stands before me, her shadow long and looming in the flickering torchlight. Her eyes, dark and filled with malicious delight, bore into mine. "You're weaker than I imagined," she purrs, her voice slithering over me like a snake's hiss. "I'd expected more resistance from Lise's little plaything."
