I always felt magic inside me. In moments of complete calm — wandering through a grove, listening to the whisper of the wind in the treetops, lying on the grass and watching the clouds shift endlessly, or standing at the edge of a cliff, grasping the immensity of the space before me — it would be born deep in my chest like a bright star and spread through my entire body with a steady light. In those moments, I felt its immense power; I felt an extraordinary happiness.
And yet, I always felt that something was wrong with me. In moments of perfect happiness, when magic filled me, I was at the same time seized by an overwhelming longing. It felt as though, in receiving this gift, I had lost something essential. In that melancholy, I sensed that I should not have been alive — that I should have been dead instead.
My earliest memory is of a vast patch of light moving towards me. As it drew closer, it began to take the shape of a white unicorn. I could not tear my eyes away from the creature. I knew it was my life.
Then another light appeared, rushing towards me with enormous speed. Emerald-coloured and cold, it was filled with anger and hatred. I knew it was my death. I knew I should have died… but I did not.
An instant before it reached me, the unicorn spread its wings and drew me into its embrace. Green light engulfed us both. Since then, the three of us have existed as one.