Your will is mine
Note: This is a story, not a trance. Still, sensitive minds may drift. If you tend to drift, take a moment to anchor yourself first.
✦ ᛉ ᚨ ᚷ ᛟ ✦
Before magic, Jafar whispers half-truths and lies. He convinces the Sultan that Jasmine and the kingdom can only be saved through a marriage plan… and he offers the solution. No spells yet—just persuasion, a delicate dance of trust and doubt.
He raises his staff, rubbing the Serpent Stone. The orb spins, colors twist in hypnotic spirals, a low hum fills the room.
At first, it’s strange. The Sultan stands frozen, eyes widening, yet… calm. A spiral of light spins from the staff, colors twisting, humming low. We watch, unsure. Something is off.
No thoughts, no will of their own. “Your will is mine,”
Then the pull begins. Slowly, inevitably. Thoughts blur. Movements stall. A warmth, a quiet weight, a gentle surrender.
We glance at each other. Confused. The Sultan’s eyes—spirals. A soft hum fills the hall.
And just like that… nothing matters. No orders, no fear, no questions. Only obedience.
All of us, together, floating in that strange, silent calm.
“Your will is mine,” Jafar whispers, and they obey.
✦ᛉumeᛋᛇ✦
