Magic's Point of View

I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid...

I run through the swamp and towards my underground home. As soon as I reach it, I run inside and start freaking out. And I can promise you, it's not pretty.

I start pacing furiously around my kitchen, my green flames licking the tips of my fingers. I can feel the need of wanting to destroy something burn through me. I lift a hand of fire and throw it at my furnace, demolishing it and small scraps of meat float to the ground.

I continue my threat-ful pace around my kitchen. 'How can I continue you live in secret? Word will probably be out soon if I don't think of a way I could shut him up...' flames travel along my palms, testing my wrists as if it were asking for permission to rise farther.

I let it rise farther, more angry thoughts filling the pure ones. More anger covered me up and distorted my vision. Out of irritation and annoyance, I blow a two-handed fire at my couch causing it to explode in a deep-green firey bliss that seemed to calm me down.

The fires wanted more power but I could feel my right senses tell me what to do. I forced the fire back down to the point where it was just at my wrists. I take a deep breath and sit on my bed, thinking of all the horrible outcomes that could come from this.

After a long time filled with thinking while staring at the wall and burning the edge of my bed, I snap out of it and banish the green flames away. I stand up and hug my bat, Fang, and walk around. 'I'll need to get rid of him somehow...'

I let go of Fang and decide on my final choice.

I leave tonight.

Seto's Point of View

My one and only friend left me.

He left me.

"I'm sorry, I'm not going to be your friend anymore."

The words repeat continuously and I just sit there, staring at the door my last friend left in. He was the only one who cared and he left?

I finally get the guts to pull my head away from the door and summon a purple fire to my hand. I pass it around my hands, and stare into its light. I don't have anyone anymore. No one.

But then again, they never understood me, a sorcerer. They could never understand me. I'm of my own kind now because a sorcerer is freak. Someone misunderstood and will never be seen differently because there isn't anyone.

'But what about the girl?' My conscience asks me and I suddenly remember the girl who created a fire in her hands in the plains.

Her...

I think about what I'd do if I stayed here. I don't have any ingredients for any potions here, the place is rotting, and I've got no friends holding me back...

It's been decided, I going after her.

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