Archetype: the Magician

A person who is skilled in magic; sorcerer

Visionary, catalyst, manipulative, charmer


He could feel the power running through his vein. How good he felt! It was like hot chocolate run through it, warming him from inside as if one thousand suns were burning in the core of his body.

And yet it was the only one of the numerous feeling that filled every corner of his being. The most magnificent of all, the one that he could find it next to his soul, was the satisfaction of being right. The high feeling of being superior to everyone else, the feeling of not letting it go.

Everyone told him throughout the duration of his life that he cannot do it, that he cannot achieve victory. All his life someone told him that he was wrong and that the laws of nature and magic cannot be bent to one’s will.

It was a difficult task, it felt as if he had to climb a mountain made out of sand. It was not an impossible task, all the young magician needed to do was to be patient. To learn, observe, connect the dots and reinvent the maze of life. All he had to do was to keep his eyes open and not shy away from any evidence, no matter where he found it.

The rise of the army of the dead, the souls thought to be lost to the living world forever tugged at his skin like a million bees tried to escape through his skin. He had won, he managed to give life back to those who lost it.

World was beautiful. Why did he have to listen to the priests that made a dream of the afterlife? The life they already lived mattered, and they wanted them to not live the present for a promised land.

Why did he have to listen to the Kings and Queens who liked to have the power for themselves and keep the little delights and wonders of everyday life away from the common man? They played their power games and cared for no one else except the illusion of superiority.

Why did he have to be either the villain or the damsel in distress for the Heroes to feel self –righteous and needed? He could lead his own life without anyone else telling him how to live it.

The Magician laughed over the pool of rain and sweat gathering at his feet. All would be happy. He, his wife, the people who had lost someone who loved more than their lives. The dead came back to life and all would rejoice. Justice was given to the poor souls and those who missed them.

Justice would be given and that would be enough for him.


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