Afterward Ariadne Madine would lie on her bed with a sort of stunned amazement at the power of things, the power of that vast, soft universe of force contracting gently around her hand. It fit her like a glove, easily conforming to her will. The force resisted her ever so slightly, although not enough for her to notice. This force is what we would call "magick." It surrounds us everywhere, wrapped around what we do, see, hear, feel, and experience. This force is unique in the way that it is invisible, yet manipulated by several few who have what it takes to harness this power. We know them as witches, yet they simply have extended senses. Ariadne Madine is now one of these people, one of these...

witches.