The Birth of Magic 1.3

He felt tired, drained. As though he had expended his energy for the day, another side effect. Now that he was done, sitting under the massive tree, he let his excitement build. He had completed a growing! Branch couldn’t help but smile, a deep thing, it grew too. A well of relief, a feeling of bursting warmly, that was what grew in him now. Maybe that was a residue of the growing, maybe he also grew.
It felt like he was, like he was full, full of something, he couldn’t place a description on it. So instead he focused on simply feeling whatever it was. A growing in him. He could sense that, it seemed there was a growing in everything, he had never felt it until now. It pressed on him from everything and everywhere. His vision grew sharp, crystalline, like he was seeing for the first time. His head spun, he reeled, suddenly it felt like too much, overwhelming. It was as if his mind played on the edge of an understanding, but couldn’t grasp it.
His vision faded and blurred, colors ran together, finding themselves confused and lost in his sight. He felt like his mind was going numb, his fear sparked to life and he felt himself falling.

Branch opened his eyes. Everything was dark around him. The world had turned to night, and he hadn’t even been there for it happening. His head pounded, his body felt stretched out, pulled too far. He groaned, and that hurt too.
Growing pains.
He laughed. Before him the plant was full of berries and lively green leaves, it was strong and healthy, and seemed to glow with a life. He stood and stretched, trying to work the soreness out of his arms and legs. Branch used the small stream and its cool clean water to wash the sleep from his face, it worked, the cold contrast grabbed his attention.
He had done a growing. The plant stood there, as if it too agreed. Branch felt a sense of pride swelling, he felt it as it pushed the soreness away.
There are times in a man’s life when he wonders just what to do. Branch stood there. He had reached the very thing he had always sought. He had found a way to growth magic, he had suddenly learned a new form of workings. With that came new understandings. Branch had learned, as many others, that a growth could only be truly done, with purpose. A growing was much like that, a learned purposed understanding.
Branch didn’t know what to do. Should he run and tell and shout and cry that he had done a growing? He would have to do it again, he couldn’t bring anyone back here. He had given his word.

#writerofage

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