Chapter 1- Magic

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Magic is a curse. That's what I'll tell you. Everything I do with magic affects me either physically or mentally- usually mentally. Now, I'm not crazy, though everyone thinks I am. And I keep to myself, care for myself, and make sure no one knows what I think. That's very hard to do, but being over 2,000 years old, I've had some practice. I'm not the friendliest, and wouldn't think twice before I stab someone in the back. I am a loner and loners do what loners do.

I tend to hang around this small helpless town; they aren't the sharpest knives in the cupboard and decided to build their town at the bottom of a giant crater.

My stomach growled as I sat in peace on the roof of a tall building, my eyes closed, listening to the wind howl. No one was allowed out of their house after night, but I didn't have one and no one really cared if I got killed. The house below me was abandoned and it creaked in the wind. I could stay up here all night, but I needed to eat. Guards patrol the streets with crossbows, swords, and spears, not to hunt the people that come out of their houses, but to hunt the others that are hungry. At this time, the sky will be alive with flapping wings, all cloaked in darkness, and in the town below, giant wolves would crawl silently down the cliff edges and eat anything they find. But these aren't wolves you see in your neighborhood or in a zoo. They are way bigger, stronger, smarter, and don't do well on an empty stomach.

I don't know why they attack us, and not hunt with the other wild ones out in the forest. This island is big enough for them to roam somewhere else, but I guess it's like shooting fish in a barrel; and they enjoy living happily, not as scavengers. Everyone does, even I do.

But I never know the feeling those wolves feel when they eat and eat till they can't eat anymore. I can easily get food, but I've been stopping myself from using my magic, since most people in the town don't know about it- they think I'm the crazy old man- and it affects my emotions strongly when I use it too much.

No one believes me when I say I have Dark Magic. It sounds bad, but it isn't. I don't know how it works or what element it works off of, but I can use it better when I'm in an open area. Or that could be that I'm more relaxed in wider areas; I might be claustrophobic. Black Magic is only used by some witches. They aren't like the movie witches and are very pretty; they were just dubbed that name a long time ago and have their own elemental powers, along with spirit animal companions. Black Magic is fueled by darkness and/or negative emotions like fear, betrayal, or guilt. 

I don't fuel on that, and most think I am a Black Magic user because of my appearance. I wear all black: black shoes, black pants, jacket and even my gloves are black. The only thing that you can really see of me is my face and I wished that was covered, too. I am old, though I don't feel it, due to my powers, and have blue eyes with a pale white face with white hair that stands up and makes me look utterly ridiculous. It kind of looks like I have cat ears. I was a scientist before I got stuck on this island and away from my family, and tended to experiment too much, once causing an electrical explosion messing my hair up permanently.

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