An untitled entry into Vivvienne’s journal
It’s a queer feeling, sobriety. You know where you’ve been, and just how low you are capable of going and it makes your heart ache at where you once were. I know that I don’t miss it, but that sickness that it embedded in me, the one that I fight ever day, is like a siren’s song.
A magical addiction isn't something to scoff at, yet those in my race mock it at every turn. It stings to hear my own husband talk about how terrible those withered Nightborne are. I have spent some of my time among them and I can't begin to explain how I feel that they are wrong. This...this addiction is as much a choice as breathing. Sometimes I feel like, within our races, it is only a lottery that determines who among us will become the lowest of the low. I feel like I danced so close to that unlucky line. Back then I thought I was a daredevil.
Being so close to this raw power, this magic, this people, make me feel like I am so foolish into starting the race to that line again. I toy with fate, practicing the magic that I practice, but it is the new normal. It is the new balancing act that many of us do to play with our lives. It is this thread of fate that is now woven within every inch of me. It is beautiful in a way, but in others it threatens to pull itself tight and ruin what I have already made.
@drabblechallenge
