Die, die the hand is mine, to be human, is to live your life in the blind.




Theory of Magic

Art and color by Sabine Rich, story by JP Roth


“There was mud in my mouth, my knees dripped blood onto the uneven pavement—little spatters of crimson rain. I bit down on my fist. I wouldn't cry, it would only distract me from running.  

Ahead of me, a little girl is sleeping in the alley, her hand clenched around a bundle of forget-me-nots. The moonlight spilling on her pale skin turns her from innocent to wraith. Two days ago, I was her, a forgotten face in a sea of the living dead—yet I was different. At night I would shed my human skin and go back to my own kind. Go back to my world with wings of light to carry me through the sky, where no element, flame or weapon forged could claim my life.

That was two nights ago, I am a fairy no longer. Tonight, I am human...and if they catch me, I will die.”

Theory of magic #5