Grimm narrowed his eyes, meeting Drex's gaze. Emotions swirled and eddied within him, but his predominant feeling was one of pity for the girl he still loved.

"You're as much a prisoner of Lizaveta's schemes as I am, Drex,” he said. “What did that bitch do to you to make you-"

Drex's brows lowered; the Questor howled in anguish as he felt vicious waves of self-loathing and suicidal despair beating against the core of his being. He felt tears running unabated from his eyes as the Geomantic spell wracked him.

"Don't you dare pity me!” Her voice grew tremulous and brittle.

Grimm could only groan in response.

"Yes, I suffered,” Drexelica continued, “but only so Prioress Lizaveta could undo the oppressive conditioning you placed on me. She understands me as a fellow woman. She appreciates my talents, which is more than you ever did!

"Only by suffering will you ever understand her love and dedication to her cause."

Grimm wailed and thrashed as she held the spell on him, but a thought rose up from his innermost being: I am a Mage Questor! I've suffered, too, my love. I've known torment and pain in full measure, all so I could learn to control my powers and my emotions.

I am Grimm Dragonblaster!

He stayed his thrashing limbs, accepting the induced emotions and dismissing them. Trembling with the effort, he pushed himself to his feet, looking down at Drex.

"Lizaveta is a twisted, evil hag,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. “My grandfather spurned her, long ago, and she wants to take her revenge by possessing me in body and soul.

"She's the rapist, not me."

Grimm collapsed again, as Drex redoubled the spell's intensity. He felt his mind, his very soul, compress to a tiny bubble under the spurious sensations of self-hatred, but he would not surrender to them.