**In seeking ones True Will, one must be prepared to sacrifice. To change. To view the world through new eyes. To be open to the infinite possibilities that exist. The following is a dance of change. The transformation of a body through the will of the mind. It is but a facet of reality within the unreal.**

--- Return to Reverie: A Dance ---

Slow and sibilant, the sound of a rattle fills the room, gradually rising in volume until the music reverberates through your entire being.

Persayis dashes to the centre of the stage, her barefooted steps making naught but a whisper of sound as she pauses before her audience and throws her left arm outward. A single veil dangles from her wrist, and it billows lightly as she languorously flicks her fingers back and forth.

Darkly evocative, a low tune drifts in, weaving around the steady rattles in a euphoric, curling harmonic.

Persayis looks on with a mysterious air, chin held high and a knowing smile teasing lips painted crimson red. Pale, violet flames coil within the depths of her strange gaze, and after a long, pregnant pause, she moves. Right arm gliding forward and in, the dancer twists her hips and begins to undulate slowly up and down, setting the mood for a performance ripe with the unspoken, the unknown amidst the known. Tilting her head coquettishly, she swivels first left, then right, one foot sliding up to rest at the opposite ankle while the fingers of her left hand continue to weave through the space beside her, caressing.

Persayis sings, "Deep within their hearts it calls."

Persayis drops both arms, swinging them backward and up while she spins in a slow, hip-rocking circle. As she does, she steps on the hem of her veil with one foot, the fabric catching and wrapping tightly about her ankle with each rotation.

A disembodied, masculine voice drawls, "Minds and bodies twine, enthralled."

Persayis drags the shimmering veil upward and her movements slow, slender pelvis thrusting forward and back in languidly provocative motions while her eyes dreamily fixate on the space before her. Lithe abdominal muscles tense and roll in distracting congress of flesh and rhythm, the flash of her navel ring winking playfully with each. Those arcing waves are all followed by a minute twisting of her wrist that in turn, drags the veil in tight, manipulated rotations around her writhing form.

Teasing the edge of conscious thought like a dream, that baritone voice purrs in an ancient tongue, his articulate crooning punctuated by the ever present percussion.

Persayis reaches out with her free hand, flashing you all a come-hither smile as she twirls in place, her slithering body further veiled with each careful spin as the dark material winds around and around. Ankles, calves and thighs vanish beneath the shifting silk, and when it reaches her hips, she beckons, her soft tone touched with a musical cadence as she joins the masculine voice in a duet.

Persayis sings, "Let it enfold you, entrap you, consume you."

Hushed, the man sings in perfect counterpart, "Devour you. Reveal you. Renew you."

Persayis drags both hands up through the air, the weight of that simple action heavy as if sifting sand. As she does, the veil continues to weave around her torso and arms of its own violation, sheathing her body completely in black. It pauses once reaching her face, and she spares a glance to those watching, her last before the veil closes in over lips, nose and eyes. She writhes in this cocoon, mobility now restricted to the constant sway of a feminine silhouette.

The music fades as a husky voice whispers, "True Will trapped beneath the strings.."

An eerie, staccato heart beat fills the air, emphasising each of the dancer’s rippling, erratic oscillations.

Persayis thrashes in her self-made prison, obviously trying to get free. Fingers appear from between the silken folds, then a hand as she claws her way through. Another hand shoots forth, grasping the sides of the cocoon and tugging it out and away as a flushed face presses to the opening and gasps for air.

The heart beat stutters as the minstrel purrs, "True Will finding brand new wings."

Persayis drops fluidly to her knees, body jerking backward and shoulders rolling in tandem with the primordial music that guides her in this descent. She stretches and extends one hand through the opening, fingers curling in and out as if testing the air. Slowly, the cocoon unfurls and drops to the floor, revealing the struggling figure within.

A new song replaces the old, this one lighter and sprinkled with the telltale piping of a flute.

Persayis' wings unfold and beat once, then twice as her tiny form emerges from a shroud of silk, metamorphosis complete. Silver eyes greet yours, a wide smile flashing sharp teeth as this delicate creature takes a tentative half-hop into flight. She reaches upward, tiny fingers combing through the air as she executes a rapid shimmy and drops low, the rocking of her hips sharply pronounced as she throws her head back in rapturous dance. Her wings fold inward, cloaking her diminutive figure for a moment before beating outward again, each lazy fan reminiscent of the languid drift of a dreameater moth through a faraway, shifting city.

Persayis lowers her lashes and smiles a sleepy smile, willowy body swaying with lethargic beguile as her aerial form is back-lit by indistinct, mercurial images that flicker in and out of existence. The sharp scent of incense fills the air and paradigms shift as she stills, quivering while rainbow hues slither beneath her pale skin, illuminating her flesh from within. She releases a soft, soothing trill just as she implodes, body fading into a wisp of surreal, violet smoke that dissipates as if it had never been.

The last notes of the flute slip away as a serene, satisfied voice whispers, "Return to reverie."

With a whisper heard in the furthest reaches of the theatre, a voluptuous red curtain draws closed.

--- END ---