29 - Robes

  The world narrowed.

  The robes.

  Flowing. Elegant. Imposing. Frightening. They were always obeyed. Without question.

  The memories clawed at him, sharp and unforgiving. They dragged him back to dark rooms where rough hands pinned him down and voices barked orders in cruel tones. He felt the phantom grip of fingers digging into his arms, the searing pain of magic, the suffocating weight of power he never asked for.

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  No - no, no, no!

  Scream. He wanted to but his mouth wouldn’t work.

  Bite. Claw. His fingers wouldn’t work.

  Magic was useless against him.

  The robed man was here for him.

  For him.