In one world, separate but so close to ours, you have power.
This world is a place few can reach, and even fewer are capable of really seeing it and thriving in it. A place where impossible is just a word, a breakable word. A place where everything is always changing and at the same time remaining stagnant. It is the realm of magic.
Magic; the power to influence the course of events by mysterious or supernatural forces.
Such a simple definition, explaining nothing and everything. Everyone knows what magic is, whether from tales told in youth or from that deep beautiful and terrifying void grasping at the edges of their soul.
It gives people the ability to summon flickering orange flame in the palm of your hand, to breathe life into dying plants, to command the wind to raise you up, to manipulate water into different shapes to heal or to harm. Where words spoken correctly and tied with will, can make the impossible real, where names can be used to hold someone, and misspoken wishes and curses mean more than you can possibly know.
But not everyone knows the power of holding such destructive and illuminating heat in their hands, of speaking aloud words that burn and freeze your tongue, words that have long been etched into the very fabric of reality. Of calling forth forces that save innocent lives from monstrous horrors, that can also close scars and heal. Of closing your eyes and feeling the earth breathe, of the gentle ghost of hands tangling in your hair, catching on your clothes, catching you as you soar through the air, laughter bubbling in your throat.
Not everyone knows the pain of siren songs echoing in you head as the knowledge you seek commands you. The darkness that creeps at your heels, the way the ground trembles beneath the sound of your voice, calling, crying out for monsters and gods many have been tricked and consumed by. Madmen and women, who can never be saved, even if they begged and screamed for it.
Then there are those that go beyond what they are capable, surrendering their humanity, their minds and souls to move as fluidly as water, to have skin as strong and eternal as stone, to commune with plants and animals, to be the elements they weave and worship. Who drown and fade with smiling faces and whisper gleefully to the vast ever hungry unknown oblivion.
And there are those of the lesser sense. Who wield just enough magic to manipulate fate. Grant the luck needed to win, to float like a cloud and survive impossible feats, to push yourself past normal human limitations. To trick the minds of the masses, take life and vanish it from sight, read the mind of your watchers, turn one thing into another. This is the familiar magic, the most human of all the forces.
Magic, is what we decide to make of it. Worked and woven by chosen souls who love and hate and live by such impossibly misunderstood power. Who, by their blood and will, connect to this unseen power, to bring laughter and hope or draw blood and horror at the snap of their fingers.
So, what magic will you wield?