Playing With Fire

I might have spent a rather exorbitant amount of time just staring at my image in the mirror. 

Believe me, I'd wish it was for narcissistic reasons… falling hard for myself looking absolute svelte in black. But no, I just felt off… like I was wearing somebody else's skin.

The seams and threads of flowing magic, knowing where it heralded, where it originated… that kind of knowledge only served to make an already dark reflection even darker. 

I suppose what I was trying to say was… wielding, wearing extraordinary power like this… I didn't look like me.

"In case I might ever need it…" I whispered, shaking off my unease, and picking my phone back up. "You really think I might?" 

"I would hope not," Dad said, his displeasure on the notion plainly audible. "But it's still better for you to have something and not need it as opposed to the contrary."