@eivorx location: well notes: footgif.mp4
The cold of the steel wall pressed firmly at Nikandros' back as he sat with his legs stretched out in front of him. There was no hum from beneath his fingertips, no magic to speak of, but it was a familiar silence. The Aetherians had used similar contraptions to negate magic, the Iskarans as well had chains with a similar function in their mines. This a'dam was different though, it negated Nikandros' magic, but allowed others to use him as a conduit. The violation was-
It was difficult for pride to abide, maybe even impossible.
Nikandros distracted himself by running his fingers along the cruel joke of metal. He felt nothing from within. The weave, once pliant, fell mute - silent as the grave. This echo was wisdom's scholarly instinct: examine the thing that breaks you until you understand the shape of your ruin.
These Kossith could have his strength, for the moment. Nikandros' mind was the sharper weapon and it was his alone - they would falter - as all jailors did. That would be their chance, for now he'd take his satisfaction in visualizing this a'dam around Anthin's slender throat. Maybe the Archon himself.
The bond was quiet now. Silence in a channel that had been open and buzzing for so long with all the things that the pair of souls didn't need to share. And yet, it harkened to only a decade prior. Nikandros had nothing to say of value, but in their silent communion both could be heard screaming.
Nikandros broke it first.
"What type of metal do you think this is?"
