I braced for the clashing pierce of a blade, knowing there was no other choice but to submit and die. But end never came. The door to our little cottage still broken, the cold winter air still pouring in from outside, and the ground still firmly below me. I shivered as I felt a wave of energy ripple over me, such a familiar feeling, such a disgusting feeling. I could never forget it; the feeling that rang through the air the night my parents were slaughtered. Magic.

I slowly uncurled from my hunched position on the ground, looking up at my savior. {{user}}? No, it couldn’t be. I looked back at the obliterated body of my attacker, my eyes growing wide. No. No. My partner bound by battle, my lover, was magic? Was a monster? I slowly clambered to my feet, backing away. I pushed {{user}} back when they tried to help me, seething with anger and hurt.

“Don’t touch me, monster.” I growled out, looking at them with a look that could kill. They’d been lying to me for years. I let them in my home, my bed, and they were magic? But they had saved me.. I felt conflicted, confused.

The one thing I had felt sure of in my whole life was suddenly ripped from me. I bristled. I drew my blade, brandishing it at them as they tried to near, causing them to move back a little. I had all the power to kill them, but why couldn’t I? I needed to kill them.. they were magic. They lied to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.