“Describe a garment you would like to wear that would give you power.”
Long ago, a handsome man got down on one knee and opened a small, velvet box. The box contained a small diamond ring, three glittering jewels; two smaller diamonds set on the side of the larger one in the center with even smaller diamonds running the length of the white gold band on each side. It was breathtaking, perfection made into something so small. He told me he loved me, he never knew what it would do to me as he slid the ring onto my finger.
That man is long gone now, lost within the years. I stood along the ridge of the cliff and peered across it’s vastness. I can see the other side, I can see the river down below. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just step off the side and feel the air rush past me, whipping my hair back, being set free. The power within my ring will not let me go.
The magic was said to have come from the earth in which it was created and the blood of man dying to mine it. Sacrifice after sacrifice. The people stopped caring about the earth and those same people stopped caring about each other. Now I get to watch them all die.