Marie listens to Ciaran’s voice, that deep rumbling devilish voice, as it spoke to her from his beautiful lips. She feels pulled, compelled to it, called to it. She automatically responded to what he says without knowing the deepness and weight of those words.

“I shall.”
Were those words in response to the follow me? Or maybe for the resting part?… Or was that to the “serve me well” part he said without any hesitation in his intentions? That “I shall” Marie said was encompassing more than one meaning… and more than one thing. She doesn’t know this…. Man?…. But here she will stay and obeying him, do as told. Marie had placed herself at his mercies and he knows it.

Ciaran leads her out of his office, and as his hand rests in the low of her back to escort her out, a hot warm feeling curses through her spine, making her bite her lips as she feels his energy.

Up they go through the stairway, both in silent, and surprisingly her mind is also quiet. Not that bombarding of questions as before she sealed her fate, after his sinking was completed. Marie’s mind was more at peace now as she follows him to where she is supposed to rest for just this night? We shall see.

Here it is, her room. Interesting. A simple and comfortable white room. For some reason it made her feel like a place where white noise was materialized into a place. Where distractions were turned off, where simplicity reigned to not add to the loud internal combustion of her shiny colorful soul. A blank canvas… wait…! Her eyes turns to him as she softly says.

“… a blank canvas, like me?…”

Floating no more. Deeper, just touching the surface, go deeper. It’s time to fall, sink. Marie is going around and around in circles inside the winds of this shadow magic. Let go. Seek deeper. The Shadow Master’s words swirl inside the tornado she is in.

Fall. How far and deep does this space go? How deep can this cocoon be? Fall into answers? Fall into self? Fall into what? Drown within yourself? Summerge.

Tossed. Facing again past voices of obstacles, people and circumstances in her life. Being tossed from one quick moment to another. Voices that she relived so many times over and over again, possible answers, possible outcomes, possibilities. Why does she keep reliving? Sounds that bring back memories to the surface. Why?

Stop! Light… ground… grounding. Her feet finally find perch on soil, and she slowly walks a little wobbly towards that small light. She needs to see what it is on the other side.

Energy. In her, through her, around her, being used by her, manipulated by her. Power, control, molded, restored, rebuild, light energy used. It’s all around her, it’s in her, it moves thought her, is used by her, she manipulates it. Glimpse.

The shadows revealed her potential, and as soon as it came, it faded away. The flickering light of the candles, the table of pure oak and glowing red sigils, the strange artifacts, the squeezing of his hand across the table, his red piercing eyes penetrating her soul deeper that anybody else has ever done. She is back into reality. Back into his lair, his office.

Marie is panting and trying to bring her whole consciousness back into herself. She wiggled her toes, breathes deeply multiple times, moved her head to her shoulders side to side, held his hand harder to confirm she is in her body, and opened / closed her eyes to confirm she was back into this realm of existence.

Marie didn’t realize just how ready she was for this, and how ready she was for him. How much her magic was waiting for her, for so long, but she was not ready yet, and how the answers she seeked were inside of her. Life had been preparing her for this moment, brought her here at the perfect time. She is ready to start this journey now to soar. After a moment of regaining herself, she finally speaks to answer him.

“… in the shadows, I will find my light and power… energy magic is in me, but to achive, I got to go deep… the voices toss me back and forward to rub my potential, I have to fall away from them, stop and ground myself inside of me… a caterpillar can’t soar… and a butterfly is born in a cocoon…”

In this Shadow Cocoon, with only his voice as a guide, Marie suspends alone. Loneliness, a feeling she has felt often. She didn’t like it, why? Was it because of facing things she kept pushing away because avoidance? How can she reach the depth of her own power is she is afraid to see the shadows and dark corners of herself? Facing what is hidden. Here? There is no place to hide or run. Here she of forced to be stuck until she unstuck herself. How can she have wings and fly without being in a cocoon?

Wait, have wings? And she is in a… cocoon… is she, a caterpillar? A colorful caterpillar that lived like this was her last form and letting her form be stuck as that. Not her final form. An identity trap inside, feeling how her potential of knowing she is a butterfly is still unfulfilled. Just feeding and rooming through life and letting life just feed her. Life forcing her to be content in this form, telling her this is what a Butterfly is, giving her more easy meals to keep letting her stay this way. Stuck within herself.

Marie eyes watered as this realization hits her. Ciaran can hear this thoughts as they pulsate inside his shadows. In this space he can hear clearly her internal voices and thoughts.

Using her own voice, she says.
“How can…. I stop… being stuck… just a… ordinary caterpillar… how can I… earn my wings…”

Ciaran’s eye darken and his grin became sinister. To late, your fate is now sealed in his hands, Marie. You have sign the contract, just because you wanted to escape, your soul has been marked. Hopefully this was the correct answer and not the nightmare, too late now. It’s been sealed.

Marie’s mind no longer running questions a thousand miles an hour anymore, there is just a frozen silence. Static white noise as her hand is squeezed and the blood drops in the table, and his tattoes open the portal. All changes, the whole vibration is red. Red light, red noise, red smell, red taste, red touch, all her senses are filled with crimson red.

Falling in the deep, his depths, she feels cocooned, trapped inside his Shadows. Here is his true nature at display, who he is, the Shadow Master taking and owning what has been given.

In this shadow cocoon, alone and suspended in the air, all she has is his voice echoing all around her. He can feel her scared but surrendered shaking voice murmuring.  “Yes… master…”

This is business and answers come with a price.

Truer words she has not hear. How deeply will she go, and how deeply will he take her? Her whole body shakes in anticipation, now more notoriously, this is scary, this is dangerous, her senses heightened. Fleeze or flight instincts making her freeze. It’s too late for her to turn back, a prey already feeling the hot breath coming from the jaws of it’s hunter near their neck. She doesn’t fight, she doesn’t back away, she is accepting her fate. Marie walks into the layer of the beast.

Ciaran’s office has an imposing table with some interesting ruins glowing, everything feels powerful in essence in this place. As he pulls her the chair to sit, Marie’s body plops down without thinking it, slowly loosing her own will and slowly giving it to him. Surrendering to his power. Ciaran is effectively saying what she wants and seeks from him.

When Ciaran mentions just how dangerous her power can be, and how he will mold it, her whole body shakes in a shiver. His words: “… Under my supervision… You’ll be trading your cage for a leash… Master… ed”. Specific words and phrases pulsating inside of her, making her dizzy as they take a hold of her tightly. Silent. Sited. Receiving. Summited.

The payment. Oh, that payment. More feelings growing. Waves of electric desire and excitement, mixed with the fear she has been brewing inside, are messing her up. The feeling of control to be safe, the level of control to achive greatness and answers, the control limitations demanded of her to explode in her potential once she is ready. How can she say no even though she is afraid? How can she feel this twisted sense of calmness filling her? A glimpse of freedom in being leashed, how is this possible? What is this? Who is he? Who would she be once molded by his hands?

As all these questions and more raise inside of her, but let’s be honest, she is always full of questions anyways. What she needs is help in shutting them up, making her mind blank, silent.

Marie’s hand automatically goes to reach out to grab the knife presented to her. Once in her hand, she brings it closer to her and hold it tight. Observing it intently as she studies it.

Is she willing? Would she do it? Is this safe? Is she in danger? Will this backfire? Will she be the same? Ah. There it is. Finally an answer. She does NOT want to be the same. That’s why she seeked him, that’s why she is here, that’s what she didn’t run, that’s why she entered the office, that’s why she is surrendering to him, that’s why her neck will have his leash, that’s why she grab the knife…. SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE THE SAME, ENOUGH!

Inhale. The moment the cold blade touched her finger and pierced her skin, a soft sound of relieve escaped her soft lips. No more pounding loud thoughts and questions. Silence, total and complete silence. Just pure surrender to this crazy dangerous mysterious fate and to not be the same. Blood dripping, hand extended toward him. Exhale.