"Sometimes we need a little magic..."
The sky was smudged with black clouds as night slowly fell on a lackluster village, with clusters of sloped houses that seemed like they would topple at the slightest touch. A girl slowly picked her way among the cobblestones of a narrow path, her chalky hair shone like moonbeams when they caught the light of the gas lamps haphazardly lit, in nooks and crannies.
The moon had risen by the time Myra had reached the secluded parts of the woods. Her heart fluttered as she sat down on the velvety piles of moss. The thrill of what she had discovered she was- what she could do was enough to make her head spin. magic had seemed distant to her like the sun she could never touch, but now she knew, that she could will it through her touch alone.
"Magic" she whispered breathless, as she slowly splayed her fingers, willing the magic to rise to the tips of her fingers, prickles of heat raced up her arm and the tips of her fingers tingled as a silvery wisp of power extended from her fingertips. Excited, She willed more power and the tendrils of magic curled slowly to form an orb resting in the palm of her hand. She lost concentration and the orb melted into her hand, tendrils of silver etching lines into her veined skin.
She sat there many hours, playing with tendrils of silver that swirled from her palm, moonlight filtering in from above highlighting her face with its long silvery lashes that splayed over eyes of obsidian, She would have looked like one of the fair folk to the observers eye with a sprinkling of freckles lining cheekbones that added a certain softness to the sharpness of her features framed by her snowy hair that spilled past her knees.
