Silver Eyes

When you look into her eyes you are transported to the eye of the storm. The calm safe harbor in this maelstrom and chaos blowing all around. Eyes that see much too far, with the look of otherworldlyness which speak of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world. For off the edge, she has been to the land of the dead. Its never getting there that’s difficult, but getting back, and she has returned to this land despite the odds, not as a thing of undeath but as something more. Pure, powerful and sure yet raw, vulnerable, and insecure, the living breathing paradox of human circumstance. She saw the light at the end of the tunnel and captured it behind her eyes. God forbid that light be snuffed for it is a source of infinite warmth for many. Many wars were fought to gain such understanding and insight and with such empathy wars will be won. So let the sky shatter and the earth quake for with an angel by my side, I am not afraid anymore. For that's what they were, the eyes of an angel

Prologue

The white fluted wand shone with such an intensity as it was raised high, trembling , not because of the immense energy it held, but that of the shivering hand that held it. A voice rang out in his head:"You cant do this, you cant! Please Don't!" The hand wavered in its motion suspended in that moment of time, before what seemed like an unseen force took over and the wand swished down, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. That was the first of the seven strokes required for the spell to take effect. A pale white snowflake drifted down as the bone-white bar of fire burnt yet another line in his vision. " I must... there is just no other way to deal with someone of that calibre. I MUST!". The second stroke was more painful than the last and he knew that it would continue increasing with the last being the worst. The two voices that were in his head proceeded to outlast each other, he continued with the next three strokes of the spell. As the power, pain and the internal conflict reached a crescendo, he completed the circle around the symbol he had drawn, a snowflake. "NO!" The voice in his head yelled, louder than ever before, that was when the hand, his hand, was being raised poised to end it, end it all. His mind thought of the procedure to remove whatever he had begun to cast but his hand instead went to the final stroke of the spell. He pointed at the symbol and under his breath murmured the words that would end it, "Glacius" he sighed. That word felt pale in comparison compared to the mental argument he was just having, but it carried, just as that argument in his head, the weight of the world.