the evil eye has done its work;

It took him a minute or more, and he wasn't sure why his thoughts flipped and switched and started to practically purr, but having someone, anyone, but especially someone older that he was telling him what to do? Oh, yes, that was where he felt comfortable, and it was almost like he was coming... home? Oh, gah, that's a weird thought, but it was exactly the sort of thing his mother would have done, bringing him inside, keeping a tight hold so that he couldn't bolt. She would have done it without any physical contact, of course - touch is only for when you're seen, not private moments - but she would have taken the lead, changed his trajectory, and filled his head with her own wants and desire. The man - Mordreaux - fit into place like a little lock, and Uwe released some of the tension he was holding in. If he got in trouble, did something wrong, when he was obviously under the power of someone else's directions - he had no beliefs that anyone looking at him would think he could take on the larger, older man.... well, then. It wasn't his fault, he was just following orders.

That's what he told himself about the Witchfinders, too.

There was another voice, the one who actually said the name of the two men whose company he was now in, but Uwe could not see who spoke and therefore decided to ignore it. It didn't stick around long - Mord took himself back outside, and he didn't hear it anymore. Voices? A ghost? Who knows - it would likely have been Mord's fault, too. The other man - Al, he'd said to call him - gave Uwe another order, which the young man was happy to oblige. Many orders, many things to do, no fault no fault no fault of his. He would willingly claim himself to be a long lost pal if Al would be his bodyguard, or just continue to tell him to do things. The question of his magecraft surprised him, however. "I'm a mage," he responded, fingers tapping against the chains and collar he wore at his neck to remind himself that he lived only to serve. "I found it while a mage-monster ran loose, and the Order found me." He put no heat into it - it was a fact, not an admission of guilt, not a declaration of pride. Just something true, something that had happened.

It took him a moment to realize that Al was, once again, paying him no attention, and several more moments to realize why. There was an old woman, suddenly here. Had she been the voice that he hadn't recognized? It was doubtful, especially as she spoke with a voice that was decidedly different, and she didn't seem like she would know any of their names. Do you know where you are?. Well, the obvious answer was Namarast, wasn't it? But Al gave a different answer, and Uwe did not want to seem like he thought the much taller man was incorrect, even if he most obviously was. After all, if they both got the test wrong, he would just blame it on Al. "This seems like your house?" he responded, trying to keep the doubt from his voice. How could anyone live in somethings as dirty, as dying as this? Then again, it had proved safe, so maybe... maybe she was on to something.