The room rang with endless darkness from each corner of its premise with the only sound echoing from Willow's chest. Her eyes were closed and her legs crossed, the smooth texture of the hard wood flooring pressing lightly on her outer thighs. An unlit candle sat directly in front of her, the medium blue wax carved with tiny runes for peace. Willow hovered her hands over the candle and began channeling her power. "Heat, heat, heat," she mentally chanted. Ripples in the air started from her palms, carrying combustible power to the wick of the candle. A moment later, a tiny fire flickered into life, casting its natural light and Willow's shadow across the shelved walls.Willow focused on the fire, letting its warmth fill the depth of her soul. She rested her hands on her lap. Calm transmitted from the candle and seemed to fill the whole room with its essence, calming Willow's tensed nerves. Her mind slowly retreated from the physical world into itself for meditation, and she could feel her mundane senses deafening until her whole body became numb, but her soul seemed to flourish with activity.

Willow looked deep inside herself, a scene of various clouds gliding before her astral eye, yet she could identify each one and their meaning. The whitest of clouds were her strengths and everything good about her while the darker clouds were her weaknesses and fears. Willow felt as if she were floating in them, confidence, power, and happiness passing through her as she passed through the white clouds, but she soon began feeling the childish fear of losing her powers and the doubts of hers Jasper's love choking her as she passed through the smoky tendrils of the dark clouds. This type of meditation had always allowed her to evaluate her true self. She flew higher into her spiritual atmosphere, causing her to venture into a deeper meditative state. She made sense of things that seemed out of place and reflected on her bad decisions in life and continued on her inner journey, but the wavering of her consciousness alerted her to how close she stood to the violent storm that symbolized her true, primal power.

She stopped and stared at the lightning filled, rumbling cloud. The power boomed and beckoned Willow to dive in its sweet, precise, and wicked being. She'd channeled her power of many times before but never completely for the fear of it taking control of her, yet the very sight of it made her want to open her spirit to it with no restraints. Her critical thinking skills began their duty, debating over whether or not to try it for the first time; the more than capable witch knew it was time. Without a second thought, Willow launched into the welcoming storm, the power automatically rushing over her. Her consciousness wavered and quivered as she fought for absolute control. Her power pushed her limit to new extremes, trying its hardest to be on top. The irony that the very forces that she could easily control was actually fighting to control her sent fear throughout, causing her focus to slip and her power to take the most control.