Even though I'm making great progress on the first book in a new series, I couldn't help writing a little bit more content for the Legacy of Androva in today's blog post 😊. This is a letter of sorts, discovered by Cal a few months after the end of Breaking Magic. It was tucked behind a box on the far wall of a certain underground chamber.
Thank you for visiting my blog today and I hope you enjoy this small piece of extra character development!
Once upon a time, we were friends.
He trusted me. I’m not ashamed to say I exploited it whenever I could. I knew
that, for him, the friendship was real. For me, it was only ever a means to an
end. He thought the best of me. There were days I even believed him—that such a
version of me existed. He made me want to be that person, someone capable of
being content, even happy. Someone who could forget the inequality of birth
that separated us and count my blessings instead of my resentments. I hated him
for exposing my weakness. But most days I pitied him. It made me feel strong.
No matter the privilege granted to him, the magical power, and the easy
popularity… he was oblivious to the enemy at his side.
I might have lived my whole life
that way. I dare say I would have made the best of it. Even a hidden enemy can
achieve a great deal and I’d had years to refine my skills. Until one day a
greater threat came to our world, and with it the opportunity of a lifetime. Many lifetimes. My life, and his life, bound together by something other
Almost a year passed before I
recognised the chance for what it was. At first, I saw only the threat and I
was as desperate as everyone else. We worked together, and we tried
to find a solution. It was my good fortune our paths had separated by the time
I found a way. Without time on my own to refine my plan he might still have
But no. My luck held. And the
moment has come. I only have to perform the last part of the spell and this
world will become mine forever. There will be no magician left with the
strength to stop me once he is… gone. I cannot explain why I am finding it so
difficult. His conscious mind has already capitulated. Those ridiculous eyes no
longer blaze with a determination to do the right thing, even in the face of
death. There is no way back. And I don’t care. I don’t. I hate him. Yet I
hesitate. Once I do this, no one will
ever think the best of me again.