Etal & Hele Chapter 2

Wake me up in light. 

May I fall asleep to arrive. Arrive in peace, cradled by the stillness of night, awaiting a morning bathed in glory. May I dream, not as an escape, but as an arrival—a step into another plane where possibility breathes freely.

Etal’s voice whispers behind her, low and magnetic, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts.

“Hele,” he murmurs, his breath brushing the edges of her resolve, “let’s try this again. Don’t ask me—I don’t believe in prayers.”

Her neck prickles, tiny chills racing across her skin, her breath catching as his voice deepens, steady and resolute.

“Try this instead,” he says, his words settling like soft thunder.

“All I want is already created. I am receiving. Thank you.”

He pauses, and the room feels heavier, charged with unspoken truths.

“Remember, Hele,” he continues, “all you think is real. A thought, once born, is no fiction—it is alive, as alive as you, as alive as the trees. All that we are, all that we touch, moves through time and space. Energetic. Infinite. A mystery waiting to be unraveled.”

The air shifts as his voice moves further away, his tone lighter, teasing.

“Hele, are you ready to come play?” His call rings out, distant but laced with anticipation. “It’s time for us to explore your other life—the life in my world. Let’s make the impossible possible.”

Everything around Hele turns red, the color bleeding into her consciousness like a slow sunrise. She breathes deeply, her body melting into the softness of the bed. Her closed eyes flicker as colors swirl and shift—a symphony of hues performing.

A hand reaches toward her, emerging from the canvas of her mind, and the voice grows clearer, closer, almost tangible. She feels the whisper of a touch that isn’t there.

“Etal?” she whispers, her lips barely moving.

The connection sparks. A jolt, electric and divine, surges through her. She sees herself as stardust, soaring, infinite. She reaches for his hand, and when their fingers brush, the universe ignites.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, his voice velvet and commanding. “How are we feeling today?”

A shy smile tugs at her lips, a blend of hope and surrender flickering in her eyes.

“Welcome to your second home, Hele,” he says, his hand still holding hers as the world around them solidifies into something otherworldly and breathtaking.

“May I show you?”

He pulls her into a boundless blue, a space so vast it swallows thought. His hands grip her hips tightly, grounding her against the infinite. The weight of his touch is both a tether and a command, sending waves of electricity coursing through her body.

His voice, deep and infinite, ripples through the space, each word echoing endlessly. It’s not just sound—it’s a force, a wind spanning a thousand unseen miles, brushing against every fragile piece of her. She shivers, her cells vibrating under the weight of his presence, his power.

She knows fear should claim her now, should anchor her to the safety of what she knows. But fear has no place here. The risk tastes like honey dripping from a forbidden fruit, sweet and heady with the promise of something more.

Her voice cracks as she asks, “Here, in this world, can I have the sweet?”

He watches her, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips—not gentle, but knowing, like a wolf baring its teeth in the guise of play. Without a word, he lets her go, a deliberate drop that steals the air from her lungs.

She falls, weightless and suspended in the vast blue, her body an echo of every ache she’s ever carried. Panic claws at her edges, but his smile cuts through the chaos, confident and relentless.

“Now,” his voice hums, the vibrations wrapping around her like chains and wings at once, “try.”

His eyes pierce through her, both a challenge and an invitation. “The sweet is all yours,” he promises, “if you can stop grasping for safety and enjoy the moment of my presence. Just fly.”

Her chest tightens, her heart hammering against the cage of her ribs. The pain of the unknown presses in, sharp and unrelenting. Every instinct screams at her to reach for solid ground, to beg for the safety of his hands.

But his words linger, pulling her toward something deeper. The moment. His presence. The now.

With a gasp that feels like breaking, she closes her eyes. The ache in her chest softens, the fear transforms. Her body trembles, but her arms spread wide, surrendering to the wind. And in the silence between breaths, she finds it—the sweetness.

She isn’t falling anymore. She is soaring.  

Hele let go, her body drifting light as a bubble rising through water. Her fears dissolved into the stillness, and she felt it—a weightless surrender, buoyant and freeing.

“See, my love,” Etal whispered, his voice carrying a depth that wrapped around her heart. “Now we are exploring your kingdom of imagination. Your home. A place for you to escape when the world feels too loud—a sanctuary for your soul to breathe.”

He paused, his gaze holding hers like gravity.

“My Hele in Wonderland,” he murmured, his lips curling into a soft, dangerous smile. “May I be your king for tonight’s mission? One eternity in a single night?”

Hele’s breath hitched, the weight of his request settling in her chest like a flame. “Yes, Etal,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “I will be your queen until my eyes wake.”

Etal smiled wider, mischief flickering in his expression as he gently pushed her into a room. The walls seemed to pulse with their own heartbeat, alive and watching. Hele stood against the wall, her heart racing, unsure of what was coming next.

“Close your eyes, Hele,” Etal commanded, his voice quiet yet unyielding.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I said close your eyes,” he repeated, softer this time, though the weight in his tone remained. “Trust me, Hele. For once, at least try it.”

Her instincts screamed at her to run, to retreat behind her walls of pretense and armor. But this time, something in her shifted. She hesitated, and in that hesitation, she chose something new. She let herself trust, let herself fall into the unknown. Hele closed her eyes.

“Good,” Etal whispered, his voice brushing against her like velvet. “Now keep them closed. Follow my voice.”

He moved closer, the air thickening between them. “Do you want to be free?” he asked, brushing her hair with a touch so light it sent shivers down her spine.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice unsteady.

“Again,” he demanded, his hand lifting to hold her chin, tilting her face upward. She could feel his breath, warm and intimate, grazing her lips like a secret. “Do you want to be free?”

Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but certain. “I want to be free.”

His smile deepened, almost a shadow of something more—something dangerous and tender all at once. “Then you must come to terms with this truth,” he said, his voice a thread of philosophy woven with poetry.

“Freedom is not a flight but a tether, a love so deep it roots and lifts you all at once. Hele, if you want to be free, you must give me love. Love so fierce it shakes the stars, love so deep it warms my frozen edges, love that feels like home.

I do not ask for your cage, nor your chains. I ask for your surrender to the vastness of what could be—what you and I could make of this night, this eternity folded into an instant.”

She felt her walls crumble under the weight of his words, each one a spark igniting the wildness within her. This was no simple love he spoke of; it was an unraveling, a falling, a trust so terrifying it felt like flying.

And for the first time, she did not fear the fall. She welcomed it.

Hele stands frozen, her body still and her mind a tempest. She has no reaction to offer, no words to break the tension suspended between them. Deep down, she knows—this is just a dream. A dream, until belief breathes life into it and turns the impossible into reality.

But could she? Could she truly love the darkness? Could she trust it, surrender to it, once and for all?

“Snap, snap.”

Etal’s fingers cut through the silence, his voice sharp yet playful. “Are you lost in your thoughts again, Hele?” His tone held both amusement and challenge. “Are we trying to regain control?”

Her eyes met his, and in them, she saw something both infuriating and magnetic: the certainty of a man who lived in realms she could only begin to fathom.

“I allow you to be my student,” he continued, stepping closer, his presence a weight pressing against her chest. “But the price you pay is everything you cling to. That control you guard so desperately? You will give it up. You will step into the realm of possibilities—of desires, dreams, manifestations, and your own harmony. Only then will you truly know what it means to be free.”

His next words landed like a storm, shattering the fragile silence. “Now, get naked,” he said, his voice calm, almost gentle, yet unrelenting.

Hele’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged bird. She hesitated, her defenses rising instinctively, but she met his gaze and saw no malice there—only the quiet authority of someone who would not wait forever.

“Yes,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of the moment.

Her hands moved to strip away the layers she’d so carefully constructed, each piece of fabric another fragment of the shield she’d built to protect herself.

Etal smiled, a slow, knowing smile that neither mocked nor pitied. “Keep going,” he said, his voice softer now, a coaxing undertone threading through the command. “Let it all go.”

The air between them grew heavier with each piece she let fall, leaving her feeling more exposed, more vulnerable. Her skin prickled under his gaze, and her discomfort grew with each layer stripped away.

Finally, she stood there, her body bared, her arms trembling at her sides. But as her eyes flickered to his, she realized he wasn’t looking at her flesh.

“You know,” Etal began, his voice a low hum of something ancient, something that reached deeper than words, “this body you stand in is only human. A vessel. A mask.”

He took a step closer, the space between them vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. “What interests me is not your skin or your modesty. What I want, Hele, is to strip away the layers of your soul. The walls you’ve built, the scars you hide behind, the lies you’ve told yourself to feel safe. One by one, I will make them fall.”

His hand lifted, his fingers brushing her cheek, light as a whisper. “And when I’m finished, you won’t just see yourself differently. You’ll forget everything you thought you were. You’ll remember what it means to be.”

He stepped back, his smile softening, though it held an edge of darkness, of promise. “Trust me, Hele. You won’t need control where we’re going. Just the courage to let go.”

Her breathing slowed, her trembling quieted. And for the first time, she didn’t fight. She didn’t run.

Hele stood by the apartment window, her bare shoulders framed by the soft glow of the city lights. The world below sprawled endlessly, alive with motion and stories she’d never know. She gazed out, vulnerable in her silence, her reflection ghosting across the glass.

Etal moved behind her, his presence a storm she couldn’t ignore. His fingers found her hair, gently pulling it back to expose the delicate curve of her neck. She felt the heat of him, his breath a low whisper against her ear.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured, his voice rich with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

Then, with that familiar edge of command, he added, “Now, kneel.”

Her breath hitched, and her hesitation lingered in the air between them. She turned her face slightly, questioning, seeking an escape.

“Didn’t I make myself clear?” he said, his voice calm, yet unyielding. “Kneel.”

Reluctantly, she sank to the floor, the smooth coolness of it grounding her. She felt stripped bare, exposed not by the loss of her clothes but by the weight of his gaze.

Etal knelt before her, tilting her chin upward so their eyes locked. His tone softened, almost kind, as he gestured toward the window. “Look,” he said, pointing to the skyline ablaze with lights. “Right there in front of you. This is the highest building in the city. The view we have? It’s phenomenal. One of the best you could ever imagine. And now, Hele, look again—this is all yours.”

Her eyes widened, taking in the vast expanse of lights and life below. The shimmering world seemed almost infinite, a mirror of her own untapped potential.

“My point,” he continued, leaning closer, his words a deliberate thread winding around her thoughts, “does it matter if this is imagination or reality? Who decides you must choose one over the other?” He paused, his lips curving into a smile that held both mischief and truth. “Why settle for one, when you can have both?”

He gestured again, this time sweeping his hand across the window as if presenting her a gift. “In imagination lies manifestation. Here, in my world, everything you desire takes form. Dreams are no longer wishes. They’re blueprints. And in this world, I offer you endless possibilities. I promise you fortune beyond what you’ve dared to hope for.”

Etal stood, his presence towering over her, and his gaze softened once more. “I stripped you of your comfort,” he said, his voice low and almost reverent. “Not to break you, but to make you something more. To unmake the illusion of what you thought you were, and to reveal the truth beneath it all.”

He crouched again, leveling his gaze with hers. “Now go ahead, Hele,” he whispered, his words charged with an almost sacred intensity. “Feel it. Feel what it’s like to have nothing left to hide... and yet, to have everything.”

Hele sat on the floor, her knees pressed against the cold surface, her eyes shifting between Etal and the city lights beyond the glass. The air was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions that swirled between them. She broke the silence first, her voice trembling yet steady enough to carry her thoughts.

"Etal," she began, her tone uncertain but laced with honesty. "I don’t know how I feel about all of this. But... I know you’re right. It’s like playing chess with my own forces—challenging, infuriating... and maybe even a little fun.” She hesitated, her eyes narrowing as if piecing together a puzzle. “But tell me this—Fortune?” She tilted her head, searching his face for clarity.

Her voice grew sharper, carrying a bite of defiance. “How can I be Fortune if you demand? If you strip me down, making me feel less worthy? How am I supposed to find my value when you treat me like a servant rather than an independent being circling the sun?”

Etal sighed, a deep, resonant breath that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. Without a word, he lowered himself to sit beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the window. The city below twinkled like a galaxy, its chaos somehow calming in this moment.

His voice, when it came, was measured and soft. “We don’t travel through these places to punish you, Hele,” he said. “Love and suffering—they are two sides of the same coin. You must suffer to feel love, just as you must love to understand suffering.”

She turned to him, her lips parting to question him further, but he raised a hand to quiet her.

“I gave you a name to call me,” he continued, his tone steady, “but don’t forget who it is you speak to. I am Darkness. I am Eternity. I am beyond time and space. For all you know, I am the one puzzle piece that makes you feel whole, that brings you peace.” He paused, his gaze piercing yet gentle. “I am your punisher and your healer. I can be your lover or your enemy. I can be all of these things at once. But there is one thing neither you nor I can do, Hele.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “We cannot run. This is the curse of being human. But here, in this place where nothing exists—where we move in empty space—here you are free of your shell. The vessel that weighs you down is gone. And only when you are stripped of it can you truly see.”

She felt his words like a tide washing over her, stripping away the last of her defenses. He wasn’t just speaking; he was unearthing her, piece by piece.

“My demeanor,” he said, standing slowly, “is not to punish you but to guide you through the uncomfortable. These are the places you fear, the places you avoid. But it is only here, in this rawness, that awakening is possible.” He turned to her, his eyes softening as a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re so close, Hele. I can feel your vessel shaking. I can feel the fight within you giving way to surrender.”

He walked toward the door, his steps deliberate and measured, his voice trailing behind him like a shadow. “You are free now, my sweet Hele. You’ve done well in this lesson. Rest, for when we meet again, our adventure will continue.”

And with that, he disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone in the silence, her mind spinning with the truths he’d left behind.

How do you paint your city of manifestation?

xoxo Vie

© Risk2Rebirth LLC, 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Do you want to read Chapter 3?

• Yes
• No