Begin, Again.

In front of him was a mirror, the reflection was not himself at all. He was rotted, through and through. Eyes dark and gaunt, his face skeletal and his hands bone as he moved to touch what was left of his face. His fingers had holes of decay and he could see where his flesh had fallen off from his forearm, unmarked. He was positively blue, jaw chattering, and what was left of his hair floating around him as if underwater.He was smiling, a toothless smile filled with pure joy. Regulus moved closer to inspect the scene, he saw a figure swimming to meet him with the same unadulterated elation, and when they met the figure grabbed his hand and pulled him to the surface. When the water broke, a scene he had only been privy to in his grandfather’s study emerged. Olive groves dotted the landscape, with vast hills weaving a perfect story, and there Regulus was, more perfect than he had ever been.Or:Regulus, the heart of a martyred lion, poured life into every blind heart, only to be remembered in death. If only in death could his life begin; it makes sense that when Sirius leaves, Regulus' life begins again. The Mirror of Erised, magic in the Middle East, heritage and resilience, I am who I am in who I become.

Welcome :)) I grew up hearing stories about the immense pagan and magical history and culture in Palestine,Babylon, and the Levant in general, and I know many are not aware of it. So introduce yourselves to Palestine through a very Arab retelling of the Black story, and I hope you love it as much as I do!!