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Huac Cries Blood was having a bad day.
As if it wasn't bad enough that he had to face off against the wizard, he lost. And he didn't just lose: he lost miserably. All it took was one single blow and the pterosaur was knocked on his ass, barely able to maintain consciousness. Of course, that was just the prelude, because only a few minutes later, he found himself staring at a very displeased face.
Morganthe didn't even say anything - she let a flowing tendril of darkness do that for her. It circled around his torso and held the small Aztecosaur against the icy rock on his stomach. He could deal with that, sure, but then another one came and wrapped around his wrists, yanking them behind his back and tightly securing themselves in place.
"Hey, hey, this isn't-"
Two more snuck in, taking ahold of his spear and pulling it against the flaps of his wings. It forced his arms into an awkward, uncomfortable position. Huac was getting incredibly nervous: if the Umbra Queen sought to punish him, that was one thing, but she was starting to poke at him in a way he did NOT appreciate. Suddenly, a fifth struck around his ankles: it gently lifted up, then pushed his legs in, forcing him onto his knees and leaving him in an… exposed position. Oh no, she was actually doing it.
"I, uh… I can explain…"
"No, you really can't. I saw the whole thing go down." Morganthe crossed her arms, kneeling in front of the helpless Aztecosaur. "That wasn't just sad, that was pathetic ."
"You didn't tell me she'd be so strong, nor that she could even make it up here! I wasn't prepared!" Huac was trying his best to defend himself even though he knew she was absolutely right. The Aztecosaur's small tail shivered in the wind before a tendril gave him a hard smack on the behind.
"I told you to be prepared just in case! You were too busy… what were you even doing?!"
"I, uh… I was… well…" Huac was stuttering. He didn't have a good response - and Morganthe just smacked him a second time. "Ack! Stop that!" And a third. The dark mage giggled.
"You're actually pathetic. You have no place in the Shadow Legion if you can't even hold your own." Morganthe stared down, before rising to her feet, turning and walking away. Huac panicked - she couldn't just leave him here!
"Hey, hey wait! Come back!" Huac cried out, squirming against the dark tendrils. They didn't feel uncomfortable: in fact, they were rather soft, like fabric, if a bit slimy. Huac wasn't sure how that made him feel. "I-I can still be useful!" Morganthe turned her head, curious.
"Can you now? Because you've proven yourself incapable of combat…" The dark queen stepped back over to the bound pterosaur, giving him a glimmer of hope despite her words. "So unless you have anything else you want to offer me, you can just stay up here."
Huac stopped his struggles, and Morganthe gave him the time to think about it. She already had the oldest spirits, not like he could've done much there. There wasn't anything else in Azteca he could give her - the pterosaur was in pretty low standing as it was, and unlike Yacate, lacked the connections to anyone in particular. In short, the Aztecosaur had nothing tangible to provide.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was something he could give up - but it wasn't exactly something he wanted to give up. Unfortunately, Morganthe saw precisely what he was thinking. The dark wizard tapped her feet against the ice, a hand to her chin as she pondered the prospect. Huac didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that she was actually considering the idea.
"Well, that's certainly one way you can serve me. And to tell you the truth, I am quite exhausted after getting so much done. Some rest would be nice."
"I-I have no idea w-what you mean," Huac was stumbling over his own words. Morganthe grinned, lowering to the Aztecosaur's level.
"Don't give me that. You and I are thinking the exact same thing…" She trailed, reaching out and rubbing the bottom of Huac's snout. The moderate brown of the scales around his cheek tinged ginger as Morganthe caressed him with an unusual gentleness. A tendril slithered and coiled around his muzzle, just below the piercing through his nose, stifling his speech.
Morganthe turned suddenly, walking away from the bound and squirming Aztecosaur. Huac let out muffled cries as panic started to set in. The way she turned and left… was she going to leave him here? No, no, that couldn't be the case. Yet as the seconds dragged on, he grew increasingly concerned that it was. Reassurance would come in the form of a tendril slithering around his upper head and blinding his vision.
Still left without sound apart from the blowing winds of Xibalba, the tendrils around his torso and ankles yanked up, lifting Huac into the air roughly and dragging him towards an unknown destination. A seemingly impossible wind fluttered in from a different direction, as did a myriad of strange unfamiliar sounds: before the pterosaur knew it, the cold air was replaced with a far more familiar yet still foreign warmth. Trying to discern where he was taken was impossible without his sight.
"Well, this is a much better place to talk, isn't it?" Morganthe chimed in as the tendril loosened around his beak. Huac briefly coughed.
"Wh-where even-"
"Shhh. You don't need to know."
The dark queen's footsteps echoed throughout the hall, her tendrils continuing to drag the Aztecosaur along. The warmer air shifted to a cooler, gentler atmosphere. Panic was still at the forefront of Huac's thoughts. What was she planning on doing with him? Was she…? That thought kept him quiet with fear. He hadn't known Morganthe long, but he knew enough about her to know that doing something like that to him was entirely within her realm of decisions. He hated thinking about that.
He also hated the blush tinging through the white paint streaking his beak. This was not the time to be having those feelings. If anything, having those might make things worse: if Morganthe took notice of it she'd certainly take advantage of it, and Huac was helpless enough as it was.
The thundering sound of a large door cracking open interrupted his thoughts. The tendrils thrust forward, landing him on a hardened surface - flatter than the icy rock of Xibalba but still equally uncomfortable. Oddly, the tendrils then slowly released themselves from his body until none of them remained: Huac blinked thrice to regain his vision. It was a medium-sized room without much ih it apart from a lavish bed at the center back of the room. Its deep purple blanket was neatly placed along the mattress resting upon a pitch black wood that served as a frame.
Morganthe came into view, shaking her head. She knelt, ripping off the ornaments around the Aztecosaur's neck and waist, leaving him in only his shorts. His blush was deepening as she got closer, her face inches from his snout.
"Now, you're going to listen very carefully…" Morganthe stopped, waving a hand to weave something just out of his vision. "You're going to put this on. No objections. Got it?"
"I… yes…" Huac replied meekly, lowering his head. Immediately as he did something soft flew into his face: he pulled it off and gave it a look.
In his claws was a skinsuit of sorts, woven from raw shadow. The black material was strange and unfamiliar to the pterosaur, feeling somewhat like agave leaves, but lacking in any roughness. He glanced back at Morganthe, who had pulled up a chair to sit in. She rested her head in her hands, staring at him expectedly. She was really making him do this.
Huac rose to his feet, flipping out the latex skinsuit: at its top was a hole just big enough to squeeze a foot in and worm it into the proper position followed by the other foot. Then, he pulled the latex up around his legs. There was another, smaller gap for his tail to fit and jut out properly in the suit. Pulling it up further around his torso, he gave Morganthe another look. She only grinned in response, and the Aztecosaur's heart sunk further.
The suit thankfully has allowance for his wing flaps: to fit those inside however took finesse to squeeza the skin-tight material around it. Surprisingly though, it fit perfectly, and he did the same with his other arm. The suit stopped at the neck, and thus he was finished putting it on. The dark queen snapped her fingers and a tingle shot up Huac's spine.
"You best hope that's comfortable. It's bound to you now. Not just to your body, but to your soul . And only I can take it off."
Huac's heart skipped a beat and a quick tug confirmed the wizard's words. The suit was stuck, and it wasn't coming off. He glared at her with a mixture of fear and anger.
"You said you could still be useful," Morganthe shrugged. "I'm giving you a use. Be grateful."
Huac frowned, but didn't retort. Instead, he tried to move around in the latex. It felt unusual - not difficult, but strange. Each step was a constant reminder it was there, clinging to his scales. His eyes darted back to his necklace on the floor: he reached down to pick it up, instinctively putting it back on. Morganthe tsk'd from behind him.
"I didn't say you could do that. You haven't earned it yet. Take it off. Bring it to me."
The Aztecosaur slumped, hesitated, and gently removed the ornament. He walked over to Morganthe and handed it over: she swiped it into her arms and waved it into the ether. Huac grew irritated - she had taken things far enough for his liking.
"Hey, I made that myself! You can't destroy it! It's important to me!"
A harsh slap across the beak sent Huac tumbling onto his ass and a claw rubbing tne spot where her hand had struck. It stung like venom.
"I also didn't say you could talk to me like that," she chided, sitting back in the chair: it moreso resembled a throne now that he looked at it properly. "I sent it somewhere else for safekeeping. I did not destroy it, but do that again and I will."
Huac nodded, rising back to his feet. Lesson learned: she was still unhappy with him. Turning around, he retrieved the ornaments for his waist and brought them to Morganthe without being instructed. She performed the same gesture, and it too vanished.
"Now thank me for not destroying your things." Her tone was maliciously delighted: she was evidently taking great joy in continuing to degrade Huac's sense of self-worth. He could tell that much, and it was working. He felt horrible.
"Thank you…" Huac mumbled, his head lowered slightly. Morganthe gave another tsk - that wasn't good enough.
"For…?"
"Not destroying my things…"
She still seemed unhappy. With a sigh, she motioned him closer before clarifying her instruction.
"You look at me, and you say thank you. You apologize for not immediately obeying."
Huac opened his beak for a moment, before shutting it with an internal grumble. He stepped closer, looked her straight in the eyes, and spoke clearly.
"Thank you for not destroying my things. I am sorry I disobeyed you."
That hurt. He hadn't signed up to be treated like this: it's not what the pterosaur was promised. Granted, yes, he had failed her, but so had many others, and they weren't being given this treatment. What made him so deserving of it in her view? Huac had tried his best - his best just wasn't that spectacular. Morganthe continued staring - she wanted him to continue, but how? What else could he add?
"...it will… not happen again."
Finally, she seemed satisfied, and Huac relaxed as much as he could. The suit clung to his scales far too tightly, and while that bed looked comfortable, he had a feeling he wasn't allowed to use it.
"Kneel, and we'll continue," she commanded. Morganthe rose, pacing around the aztecosaur, who reluctantly fell to his knees, staring up at the witch who continued to delight in his degradation.
"Now, I need to set a few ground rules, so listen carefully. I won't say this twice. From now on, and until I determine otherwise, you belong to me. When I tell you to do something, you will do it. You will not object, and you will not complain. You exist solely to serve me and whatever I desire from you. That's it. Understand me so far?"
Huac nodded slowly with a whine, and Morganthe cracked a smile at his ever growing despair.
"Next, whenever you're not needed, you will be confined here. I will even let you be unbound, but you are not allowed to leave this room unless I explicitly tell you to do so. Further, this is still not your room. You will sleep on the floor. If I catch you lying on the bed, I will punish you. Behave and I may consider giving you something to sleep on. Understand?"
The pterosaur trembled - this place was already rather cold, and while the skinsuit helped it wasn't enough to make that feeling go away. Still, Huac saw the glare in Morganthe's eyes, and that kept him from saying anything apart from another nod.
"Excellent. I believe that's all I need to tell you for now. But that's enough chat - as I said, I am quite exhausted, and I'd like some rest."
"Wh… what do you want me to do…?" Huac questioned, taking another step forward. Morganthe's grin widened, and she snapped her fingers, causing a silken rope to manifest and curl around the Aztecosaur's wrists, yanking them back and holding them in place behind him. The rope twisted around them, tying them into a painfully tight knot. It jerked upwards, lifting him into the air.
"Nothing. I don't think you're quite able to handle whatever instruction I give you yet."
Another rope would be summoned to secure itself around his ankles, fastening firmly and roughly. Despite the latex, the ropes pushed into his scales so tightly that Huac could feel it. He stared down at Morganthe with a whine as the rope holding him suspended dropped him to the floor.
"Do… do you have to be so rough?" Huac's tone was just barely masking his frustration. He'd love to actually, properly express that anger: but he couldn't. He had no idea how she'd react and he wasn't keen on finding out. Even just that question proved to irritate her, as she smacked him across the beak, tumbling the bound Aztecosaur to the ground.
"Did I say you could question me? You should be grateful I'm even giving you a second chance."
The witch clapped: and summoned a shadowy band. Grabbing onto Huac's horn, she pulled him closer, and retrieved a mask much like the suit he was wearing, fastening it to the pterosaur's beak and sealing it with the band. It was tight, but just loose enough so that he could still breathe, although it was strained.
"I don't think I've made myself clear. I don't care if you're uncomfortable, or if you're hurt, or if you're sad. I couldn't care less, in fact. If I wanted to, I could snap your frail little neck and put an end to your pathetic life. I wouldn't remember you. Nobody would remember you. Everything you've done would be pointless , more than it already is. The only worth you have is to serve me, and so far you have continually failed to do so. You are trying my patience and if you keep this up I will gladly toss you into a ditch somewhere so you can starve. Do I make myself clear yet? You. Serve. Me. That is your only purpose now."
Every word Morganthe spoke was like daggers to what remained of Huac's self-worth. Her words were lined with malice and truth: everything she said was true, and deep down, the pterosaur was aware of it. Tears nearly fought their way to the surface, but he sucked them down with a nod.
Morganthe didn't give him a response: she simply lifted him with both hands and tossed him onto the bed before following herself. She shoved the mostly-still Aztecosaur to the back, the ropes stretching to pull and wrap around the bed, forcing his arms and legs into uncomfortable positions above and below him. Unfurling the blankets, the dark queen laid down and rested herself on the mattress before grabbing ahold of his snout and yanking him a bit closer.
"Now, I'm tired. I want to sleep, but I don't have any pillows in this room. Oh wait! Yes, I do."
With those words, she laid her head onto Huac's exposed stomach, flicking his beak away. Huac whined, shaking his head but staying fearfully still. Morganthe let out an exaggerated yawn, content to ignore the Aztecosaur's plight so long he continued to remain in place. The warning and instruction was there; don't move, don't squirm, and don't make any noise for however long she decided to sleep. Huac shivered.
This had just been the start to a really bad day.