There is magic in the world
But it is not a peaceful or wanted thing.
It is thing of raw energy, of gnashing teeth and blood. It is the final scream as it is ripped from the throats of the dying.
It is power and blood and rage and whispers of the lives you stole the magic from.
Magic is not a natural thing.
It is a stolen covetous thing.
There is magic stagnate with rot in the air.
Will you take it?
Will you rip it with your teeth? Split it open under your fingernails? Let you blood drip through that dying thing that rots the air you breathe as the magic seeps into your veins?
There is magic in the world.
And now it festers so near, you can taste it.











