The lock on the door glowed for a moment before clicking open. The sound of the lock undoing itself wasn't too terribly loud. It didn't even make Afal stir from his spot curled up under the covers of his bed. Welith smirked a bit as he slipped into the room and carefully closed the door behind him. The oncoming winter was adversely affecting his little Contortion. He'd trained Afal to be a very light sleeper.

Welith wasted no time in crossing the room to the side of the bed. Afal's forehead was coated in sheen of sweat and the bags under his eyes hadn't faded even slightly. Welith sat on the edge of the bed, Afal's eyes shot open instantly and Welith clamped his hand over Afal's mouth before the green-haired man could make a noise.

Afal looked positively shocked and quite terrified. Welith smiled a bit before moving to pin the other man to the bed. "Hello, Afal. You should know better than to think a mere lock could stop me." Welith whispered as Afal struggled to slow his breathing to a more normal pace. "That Touya thinks he can outmaneuver me but he is a fool, isn't he, Afal?"

Afal hesitated for a brief second before nodding. Welith smiled wider. "So well trained." He murmured against the hand that was still covering Afal's mouth. Afal swallowed hard to try and rid himself of the knot that had formed in the middle of it. His hands were pinned under Welith's knees and his lungs were burning with terror.

Welith shifted a bit, bringing his hand to close around Afal's throat as he unsheathed a wavy athame from his boot. Afal's eyes widened at the sight of the blade in the mage's hand. "Now, Afal, you will reaffirm your allegiance to me." Welith said bringing the edge of the blade down to rest against Afal's bare chest.

"I-I do, I am!" Afal choked out from under Welith's hand.

"Are what?" Welith asked sliding the blade to the direct center of Afal's chest. Afal shook in fright as the blade scrapped lightly across his skin, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to know that it was still sharp. Welith twisted the blade until the point was pressed against Afal's sternum. "What are you, Afal?" He asked more forcefully.

Afal closed his eyes and drug in a long breath. "Y-yours to do with…what you will." He recited shakily. "My l-loyalties are only to you, M-master."

Welith smiled widely and moved the dagger making certain to dig it into Afal's skin. Afal's eyes flew open and he cried out in pain before a quick squeeze from Welith robbed him of his air. Welith leaned forward to cover Afal's still open mouth with his own. Afal shivered as he felt the familiar freezing sensation of magic slid down his throat like strings of ice. It was just like the first time Welith had kissed him. It wasn't for desire or love but magic.

The strings of ice spread out along Afal's insides like a spider web as Afal's eyes dimmed slightly. Then he cried out in pain, as the magic seemed to grow hooks on the end of the threads and dig into him. Finally Welith pulled away but the feeling of hundreds of tiny hooks remained. He felt like a puppet on a string. Welith only had to flick his hand and Afal would be follow, no matter what he wanted.

Welith smiled again. "Now, Slave, it is time you show your loyalty." He hissed dragging the dagger across Afal's skin slowly. "And I shall greatly enjoy your attempts."

Afal shot up with a gasp. He looked around the freezing cold and pitch black room with wide eyes but saw nothing out of place. He gasped as he tried to catch his breath. Needles pricked his eyes and he buried his head in his hands. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare.

Slowly Afal got out of bed and stumbled over to the window. The cold air of the night helped clear his head, though he could still feel the hooks gripping his insides with utter clarity.

The green-haired man put a hand to his heaving chest but pulled his hand away with a start. He looked down at the blood that was on his palm before hurrying to the mirror that was hanging in the bathroom. He stared at his reflection with wide almost disbelieving eyes. Sitting in the middle of his chest was a single symbol that Afal only just recognized as Welith's personal symbol.

He'd seen Welith put the same symbol on all of his most prized possessions. Afal stumbled back to the wall where he slid down to the floor in a heap. It hadn't been a dream. That was the only explanation for it. It had been real. Afal stared down at the blood that coated his shaking hand.

It was no good. He would never be anything more than Welith's slave. The symbol on his chest made sure of that. Afal brought his knees up and rested his forehead on them in despair. He felt the slow drip of blood down his front and closed his eyes tightly. Why would Welith do this? He already had Afal under the magical control of the hooks. Slowly, exhaustion took hold again and Afal drifted into an uneasy yet deep sleep.