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Memories of an Origin 

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Brown and green hardbound books stacked together

From the perspective of Umwe, the Origin of Magic (a divisional character made by yours truly) 

I remember the day I discovered it

I remember the chill of the night

I remember the white noise of the rain.

I remember the gondola, carved wonderfully of a rich brown wood

I remember the carpet green underneath, unsoaked save for where I stood.

I remember it…

I remember feeling the spark in my hand

I remember what I beheld in my palm

I remember the modest flame, a brilliant yellow

I remember the shock that caused the flame to instantly smother itself.

And I remember how I made it again.

I remember the spark of thought in that moment

I remember the revelation, that feeling of making more elements manifest in my hands

I remember that sudden rush of wonder and glee

I remember twirling about like a child

I remember seeing all these manifested elements make brilliant colors that shone against the roof above

I remember the feeling of my feet lifting off the ground as I unintentionally manifested wind underneath them

I remember being there in wonder for what felt like hours, but was only mere minutes

I remember the feeling I had when the many elements faded into the night

I remember the starstruck crowd I had drawn, drenched in rain as they watched from beyond the railing, I remember saying, with tears of happiness, “This… Is Magic!”

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