I came to the very real conclusion that my submission is like a bonsai tree, started by seed. I remember reading somewhere that is the most difficult way of starting one. The seed was planted by Alpha in the two years he groomed me before taking everything I was inside and out. When he died, eight years beyond I was left depleted and lost, searching for answers to questions I couldn't comprehend because simply put none was explained. That seed was forced into the ground in a very harsh and uncaring way. I was unprepared for it. The ground was rocky and unsuitable, too dry, not enough sun, not enough rain. The ground was never prepared properly and by that I mean nothing was every thoroughly explained. Had it been I doubt I would ever have agreed to it. How could anyone agree to have their very spirit stripped from them, and in nothing put in its place?
That spouting seed wasn't tended well either, nearly choked with weeds, lack of sunlight, and very little water, but somehow it survived the desert conditions under which it was planted. It may not have gotten adequate amounts of what it needed, but it somehow it got just enough to survive. After Alpha's death it was almost forgotten completely, just left on its own. After a few years and my own research into the subject I noticed the plant had somehow grew, a gnarled bent slightly askew trunk, and a few branches with sprouting leaves. I looked at it with wonder of how something so striking could grow out of something so desolate.
Then Omega wandered back into my life, and started clipping away the bad growth, encouraging new. He pulled weeds, removed the rocks which choked the roots and transplanted it into the rich prepared soil it needed. Tending it and making certain it got all that it needed to not only survive but to thrive. I was allowed to ask questions and got answers, honest answers. I was able to ask him, "What am I?" I listened carefully to all he had to say, not trusting completely that he was honest but wanting to believe he was. I crosschecked his answers with others. He not only understood how to care for the bonsai but was a proficient at its care. He clearly understood more than I ever could about the bonsai. As he clipped and tended, turning it so that it didn't always face the same direction, giving it water when needed, it surprised him by starting to display little tiny buds of delicate blue flowers, cascading over it.
And he saw it was good and that pleased him. The bonsai is happy thriving now, and as is the slave. Yes the branches are still gnarled, and it doesn't grow straight, but it flourishes in any event.