It was a long road before someone could truly claim themselves to be a master of the dark arts.
Both he and his sister thought they had been ready for it. Now, only his sister seemed to be relishing the slow increase in power being siphoned into their bodies.
He himself, however, grew increasingly weary of the scarring, the rituals, the soul-crushing tasks demanded of them. And somehow, the power that he got in return didn't fill the hole that was being torn inside of him.
The only thing that kept him going for now, was some sort of twisted feeling that he owed it to his sister.
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Tiny Stories Part 2
Storie breviMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
