"I was supposed to die"

He stated plainly, looking at his hand, turning the mangled and magic drawn flesh to and fro to veiw it's every angle.

"But this flesh, it... it burns with a charge. An energy. It's strong, like an urge, but I do not know it's name..."

He stood, draped in his blanket-made cloak, describing the feeling, the pulse, the residual the magic had left within him.