The air in the room went still; breathing became impossible. Thanadyn’s magic tried to wind its way into my fractured soul, tearing open wounds I’d stitched up on this quest. I could feel it now, the pulsing darkness withering magic offered. A blissful abyss where I did not have to fight every day to look for the light. I could dive in and never know pain again. There would never be a day where I reached for someone only for them to back away from me.
There would never be a day with love.
His magic beat at my very soul, ripping down anything bright in its path.
He could tear all he wanted, he could rip the heart beating in my chest, but it would not change the fact that my heart was not the one he knew before.
Dwindle survived withering magic because of hope. I would go down fighting Thanadyn with the same.
Night would come, but the day was worth any darkness that would fall.
He may end me, but he would not take away the one thing sacred to me, to everyone. It was not fear.
It was hope.
Enough, I told my heart.
Enough, I said again, willing it back to me.
I did not need a town or a Hesper to light the spark inside of me now. I had myself. I had the little girl who reached for the hug. I had knees aching from a day spent digging in the garden. I had pricks on my finger from Warty’s quills. I had quiet mornings sipping coffee across from the woman I loved.
And that was enough to set the very moon on fire.
A shadow readied itself against my lips. The final kiss of death.
So I let it come inside, willingly opening myself for the darkness.
Distantly, I felt my body arch off the ground, pain coursing through me, etching new lines in my bones. But my fear evaporated. I would not let it wither me; it could not rewrite my story. Where darkness nestled, light could always burn it away.
It is its own kind of magic. A kind for creating, giving, weaving, beginning.
Hesper’s words rang out in my mind.
Then let us begin again, I told my heart.For after the night, there is the morning.
My magic burned in my chest, coursing through me, eradicating each shadow.
Thanadyn doubled down, more of his withering magic pouring into me. My heart shuddered for a moment, but I did not lose hope. I sewed my own magic into his and drank up the death, reforming it back into its truest self. I kept weaving my magic with Thanadyn’s, drawing more of it into me—making a new story, a new start.
I heard his screaming, his rage. The thread between his magic and mine pulled tight as he fought with all the darkness stored in his desolate soul, but it would not break. My magic grew into his, piercing through the shadows with bright, bursting blooms. Sunlight broke through the darkness; my wildfire soul—ever burning—blazed brighter, his magic fanning the flame. The light inside of me was all-consuming, the magic in my heart never-ending.
And then, all at once, it was finished.
What’s worse: when an evil entity falls upon the town, or how angry your girlfriend is going to be when she finds out you put yourself in danger… again?
—opening line attempt 983
Light poured through the cracked windows; Mabel moaned in the corner.
“Are you all right?” I tried to rush to her, but my bones were marmalade.
“Fine,” Mabel squeaked. “Just a little—” Then she retched and I almost started to retch in sympathy, but I heard cheering and a familiar squawk outside, right before the front door burst open. It went so far off its hinges, it flew right past my head and splintered into a thousand pieces on the wall.
“He was hiding in my book!” Mabel croaked in the corner. Folks rushed to her aid just as I rushed to Hesper.
“Clara.” Her voice was desperate. But before Hesper could say anything more, I tackled her to the ground and kissed her full on the mouth.
“What the—” she tried to say, but I stopped her mouth with a kiss.
