Tangled
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    It is about twenty minutes later when I hear the warlock come back. He drops off something heavy next to me on the table, the sound of pages flipping tells me it’s a book.

    He seems frantic. He grabs me suddenly, squeezing me in his tight grip. I yelp in surprise before realising it doesn’t hurt like being pulled on did. “What are you doing?” I ask with a concerned tone I find myself surprised to use.

    He doesn’t reply, only rotating me around in his hand every now and then, studying me, then turning his attention back on the book. This continues for a while before he drops me back down on the table and I hear him shuffle through his tools.

    He turns me around and pulls my armor off in one swift motion, right before I see him holding a scalpel that he hovers over my abdomen. Another of my numerous screams escapes my mind. “No! Please, don’t! Don’t hurt me!!! Please!”

    I see the magic connecting us change hue towards pink again, but I’m scared to anger him further, and keep it contained as much as I can. He frowns and groans. “Get… Out of my mind… I am trying to understand what... by the powers above... is the situation you have tangled us in, fool.”

    “Just please don’t hurt me!” I beg. “Anything! I’ll help you with anything, but please…!”

    He seems to consider it for a moment before he turns me on my side, and instead cuts me with the scalpel where a seam already was. Wait, I have seams? “There. Less pain here, I believe. Now be quiet.” I don’t protest as he plunges a finger inside, then another, and grabs out a part of my filling, apparently fluffy cotton. He squishes it between his index and thumb. It… tickles. 

    I see little specks of blue magic crawl all over it, like disturbed ants in a mound. Wait, if he can't see magic like I do, should I tell him? ...Or should I even trust him? I stay silent.

    “I do not get it… If it is just normal cotton, how are you alive?” he says. I feel a little guilty for keeping the information to myself.

    He continues to eye it for a moment before I speak up. “...Is it okay if… Can you put it back, please? This feels weird…”

    He pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “All I desire is even just one clue. Any clue.” He shoves the cotton back through the hole before facing away in thought. “The sooner we are disconnected, the better.”

    I can still feel the sensation of having a gaping hole on my side. It unnerves me. “Sir warlock, could you close me, please…?” I never expected I would ever utter such a sentence until now.

    He turns back to me, throwing me a scowl. “Do not push your luck. I already have your promises you will help and stay quiet.”

    “But…” I don’t know what to reply. I feel dejected and afraid again. For just a moment I had forgot I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a monster of a man, and now the feelings are coming back. I start sobbing, pointlessly trying to keep them bottled.

    The warlock grits his teeth, clutching at his heart. “No more! No more of this! You are doing it again!” I don’t understand what he’s referring to until I notice our connection has turned to pink once more. Oh no.

    “I-I’m sorry,” I explain as best as I can while waiting for the fear to pass. “It’s hard to stop it when I’m scared…!”

    “Aaargh! Alright, alright, I’ll fetch my needle, just please stop changing my mind!” he blurts out before sprinting up two floors and coming back with a sewing kit. My sobs abate slightly.

    So… that’s what it was? What I was doing? “I’m… I’m so sorry, I swear I don’t want to manipulate you like this, it just does it by itself,” I mutter as I watch him slip a thick brown thread in a needle.

    “See, this is exactly the problem. Because you have changed my mind and now I actually believe that.” He pierces my fabric with the needle, weaving the thread in as quickly as he can before pulling strongly to tighten the thread and close the hole. “I would like you to leave my attitude alone.”

    “Sorry,” I mutter again. I hesitate to ask that he not be so rough, but I’m afraid even just saying that would change him. The connection calms back down to its now usual blue.

    He puts me back in a sitting position before storing the needle and thread back in the kit. Just before he turns to leave, he pauses and picks up my chestplate. “What a strange power, to hijack a spell, and make it extend to the clothes on your back…” He throws me a glance before slipping the armor back on me. I’m confused, but I assume I’ve changed him more than I thought. “If I didn’t have all these reasons to despise you, I might even call you fascinating.”

    The face I’m making in my thoughts scrunches up. “Oh, uh… Thanks.”

    “Hm.” He sits me back down, then turns me to face the mirror before leaving upstairs.

    I’m left alone with my thoughts.

    Should…

    Should I intentionally use this power and change him for the better?

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