Post Magic:
I am emptied like a discarded shell
no longer do I hold and mystery of growing
in my safe embrace,
that which I held has up and gone
fledged
This is how it is
once the flow of magic leaves me
afterward
I am the empty reed,
the pith pulled out of it,
hollow and empty:
“I am a spirit,
a word,
a thing of air and darkness,
and I can no more help what I am doing than a reed can help the wind of God blowing through it.”
-Italiacs from Merlin of the Crystal Cave, by Mary Stewart
Nwyfre 