Ethan sat on his throne, feeling the new, weak connection to Maya Alcott. It was time. He closed his eyes, extended his mental fishing line across the Sea of Silence, caught the trembling thread of her consciousness, and began to pull.
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The world of the dark art studio was torn away from around Maya, replaced by the silent, majestic throne room. She fell to her knees on the cold black floor, gasping from the terror she had been living moments before.
"You again!" she yelled as she stood up, the fear in her voice mixed with anger. "I'm sick of your games! Get out of my head!"
From the throne, the Proprietor's calm voice sounded, but this time, it carried a note of cold sarcasm. "Games? Artist, you are living in an illusion and you think it is reality. Your dreams are not your own. Your fears are not of your making. Even this false courage you're showing now... is not truly yours."
"What do you mean?" she cried out, feeling confused.
He did not answer her. Instead, he smiled a smile she couldn't see, but she felt it as a coldness in the air. "That little thing that was chasing you... that shadow that pollutes your canvases... let me get a closer look at it."
The Proprietor slowly raised his hand. Maya felt an immense pulling force deep within her mind, as if a giant hand had grasped her deepest fear and was trying to rip it out by the roots. She screamed from the psychic pain and fell to her knees again.
In front of her, between her and the throne, something began to materialize. It tore from her consciousness, a being of pure shadow, trembling and writhing. It was "The Paralyzed Artist," her personal nightmare, summoned into this dream reality. The entity looked confused, then it looked at the Proprietor sitting on the throne and prostrated itself on the ground in absolute terror and submission.
The Proprietor spoke in a condescending tone, as if addressing a pet. "So this is all there is? Disappointing." He then looked at the kneeling, broken Maya. "As you can see, even your own nightmare knows who the true master is here."
He increased the psychic pressure in the hall. Then, from the shadows beside the throne, he summoned one of his powerful servants, the "Paranoia Entity," which appeared as a tall specter in a tattered coat, its face a swirl of doubt. It stood beside the throne, its vacant gaze making Maya tremble.
"Now," the Proprietor said, his voice like the sound of cracking ice. "Before we talk, there are some rules. Rule one: You are here by my 'invitation.' And rule two: In my kingdom, guests show respect."
He gestured to the Paranoia Entity. "This servant... is bored. Show some respect, or I'll let him entertain himself with your anxiety."
Maya felt an unbearable pressure, a purely psychic pressure, as if a mountain of doubt and suspicion was about to crush her. She couldn't resist. She was broken. Slowly, she bent forward, her forehead touching the cold, black floor. She knelt.
"Much better," the Proprietor said, feeling a wave of cold satisfaction. He had now confirmed his dominance. "Rise. We have business."
Maya stood on trembling legs, her eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to look at him.
"I am going to offer you a deal, Maya Alcott. 'The Shadow Covenant'." The Proprietor gestured with his hand, and from thin air, a scroll of dark parchment, as if made from the skin of night, formed. The scroll flew slowly and unrolled before Maya, its words written in an ink of purple light.
The Shadow Covenant
First Party: The Proprietor.
Second Party: Conductor Number One, Maya Alcott.
Terms:
1. The Second Party swears complete loyalty to the Proprietor and his organization and will commit no act that may betray this loyalty.
2. The Second Party agrees to be under the permanent psychic observation of the Proprietor.
3. In return, the Proprietor grants the Second Party protection from external threats and the power necessary to defend herself in the dream world.
"These are my terms," the Proprietor said. "Acceptance is your only option for survival. Sign the contract."
"H... how?" Maya whispered.
"With your will. With a drop of your essence."
With hesitation, Maya extended her finger toward the contract. She imagined pricking her finger, and a small drop of silver light, the essence of her dream, appeared and fell onto the parchment.
The moment the drop touched the paper, the contract ignited in cold purple flames, then turned to ash and rushed toward Maya, piercing her chest. She felt an icy cold spread through her body, then settle as an invisible mark on her consciousness.
"Welcome to 'The Shadow Covenant,' Conductor Number One," the Proprietor said. "Now, for the first lesson."
He pointed to her personal nightmare, "The Paralyzed Artist," which was still prostrated on the ground. "This is no longer yours. It is mine now. But you will face others. Summon your shield."
Maya felt the new power the covenant had granted her. She focused, imagining a wall of light, but this time, it was stronger, more solid.
"Good," the Proprietor said. "Practice. Become strong. I will summon you again soon. You have much to learn."
And without another word, Maya felt the world dissolve around her again.
She woke up in her bed, screaming a muffled scream, her body trembling. It had been a terrifyingly vivid dream. Then, she felt a cold tingle on the back of her hand. She looked, and saw a very faint trace, like a circular bruise, where there had been nothing before.
It was real. Everything was real.
And in his kingdom, the "Proprietor of Nightmares" looked at the new entity that had joined his collection, "The Paralyzed Artist." He had gained a new soldier, and a new follower.
"One..." he thought as he looked at the new silver thread connecting him to Maya in the Sea of Silence. "And subdued. Now... for the rest."