"The usual story. Would-be sorcerer goes into a dark wood, cave, swamp, some place with a reputation for hauntings or magic. And when they come back out, they have Powers. For fourteen years they practice their peculiar art. And at the end of those fourteen years, they walk back into that place. And they never come out.

"It will sound like a typical Faustian bargain to you. But I'm not Faustus, and the Forest is no devil. I gave my soul to it long before I even thought of taking up magic.

"And no Contract. I didn't sign my name in blood on a leaf. 'Bargain' is the wrong metaphor. Better to think of Sorcerer and Sacrifice as the start and finish of one story, or the rise and fall of a thrown ball: the two parts of one thing. I've come to finish what I started fourteen years ago. 'Sacrifice' isn't really right either. I know what will happen to me, and it's not something I can regret."

(Scribe's note: Trying a story here in really quick five-minute sketches, that won't take time away from other stuff.)

Part 2