let’s pretend the enchantment doesn’t work for a moment, ok?
strickler is obviously relieved confused, and the second he escapes jim’s clutches he beelines it to angor rot for answers. the assassin rolls his eyes and wonders, quite condescendingly, if the issue was user error. an indignant strickler assures him it absolutely was not a mistake on his part, that he did exactly what he was told to do down to the very last detail and there must have been something wrong with the magic itself. angor’s brow arches at that.
“if you really did perform the incantation properly,” he sounds like he seriously doubts this is the case, “then the only explanation for why the spell didn’t work is because a connection between the two of you was already in place."
strickler frowns. “i don’t understand. what kind of connection could - ”
“soulmates, strickler. you and the trollhunter’s mother are soulmates,” angor shakes his head and lets out a disparaging laugh as he watches the blood drain from the changeling’s face. “and they call me chaos.”