Then I find myself in a stone chalet, with wood floors. A cozy place with a fireplace and wingback chairs. There were people there, well-dressed, it was a club of some sort. Everyone was in their early 20s. They seemed to be people of power and priviledge.
Near the fire was a gray wingback chair, and in it sat a young man with black hair, red skin and small black horns jutting out of his forehead. As I walked across the floor towards him, someone near me said, don’t do it, man! I looked at him and said, it’s okay, bud. This needs to be done. When I looked back towards the chair, the young man was not there, but I knew he was.
You have had control over this place for many years, but no longer, I said calmly. You pretend to be the master but you’re really the servant, because that’s where you place yourself – this is of your own doing. I am the master. You can go. And there’s no point in hiding, I can see your energy quite clearly.
As I said that, I could see bands of radiating energy around a blank space sitting in the chair. I felt calm and empowered (which is not how I would typically feel in such a situation!). That was the end of the dream. It felt good to do that.
The Grateful Dead’s Friend of the Devil is going through my head this morning.