✤ First Year magic…

┋He was only a first year, meek, weak, that’s what they had been saying. But when the monsters attacked, he knew he couldn’t cower. Hearing the screaming, his friends and colleagues picked off one by one, falling, the young little first year dashed through the crowds, to the front lines. He may not know much, he thought, but he was powerful, and he wouldn’t allow one more soul to die that night.┋

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✤ Requiescat in pace

┋When the gasping had stopped, he looked upon what he had done, with a neutral face. He had loved her, that much was known and now, she would dot the halls as yet another face, cold and uncaring. The silver lining was her pain was no more. She was free to embrace the world, to be worn, like all the others. She was dead, and in death, he set her free.┋

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✤ A weave of magic; a weave of lies…

┋John: Magic’s just when you trick the universe into believing some incredibly outrageous lie. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about — I’ve told a few corkers in my time. Like any habitual liar, though, I spend far too much time these days trying to cover my grubby little tracks. All that bluster and bravado and bullshit — you get a right nasty headache just thinking about it.┋

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