Is this what you meant about the spacing on the paragraphs? I'm not sure...it looks kind of funny to me. Was I mistaken in what I thought you meant? Anyway, here's my new version of...
CHAPTER ONE
At last. He'd thought it would never come...yet here it was. The magic was overtaking him.
He'd heard the stories...few though they were. It had happened to only two magicians in the history of Earunia...and they were both dead. He knew the danger - he had known ever since he had begun his training in the magical arts - but his feelings had alternated between hoping that it would happen and not believing that it was possible. And really, few still believed the old stories. Magic was so tame, for the most part...it was hard to believe that it could take hold of someone like that, take over their minds, their bodies, their senses...swamping them completely with itself.
In most parts of the world, you see, magic was not very strong. It was very difficult to become a magician, and those who did were very weak ones. In Earunia, however, magic was in the air, thick and strong. To be a magician there was as common as being a farmer, or a nobleman, or a shepherd. There it was just an element, like air or fire, that could be harnessed and used by those who knew how. Magic, in fact, was perhaps not the best name for it. People called it that because magicians used magic to do things that were scientifically impossible. There was no name that really fit the element of magic, however. It was a combination of fire, air, and water. It existed between these elements, not rightly a part of any of them. All magicians did was pull the magic into themselves from the air around them, use it, and return it to the air after the magic was finished with its' assigned task. In a few rare cases, however, a magician would use magic so much that the magic would come to recognize the magician as a part of itself, and would completely overtake the magician, controlling him instead of the magician controlling it. These magic users were practically undefeatable.
That power, that unconquerable, uncontrollable, uncontainable power that could fill a man, fill him and sweep him with it on its' path to undoubted victory - that was his hope, his dream. His first bedtime story, told to him by his nurse when he was barely two years old, had been about one of these magicians.
"A man who had studied magic from his youth, became fanatical about it, cared for nothing but magic...he was taken over by it. He became so twisted and cruel - yet so powerful - that he had to be killed."
He had listened, fascinated, to the tale...and dreamed every night after that of the great power he could have within himself. He didn't care about the fact that both of the magicians who had been overcome by magic were killed. He thought, in his boyish arrogance and simplicity, that once he was that powerful, he would be impossible to overcome. So he asked his parents to teach him magic. They hired the best teachers in Earunia to come and coach their beloved son...
He grew into the magic, slowly but surely, leaving his parents, to travel the land searching for new masters. After years of study, he realized that no other magician knew more than he. He was better than all of them put together. But still, he was in control of his own senses, was still a man. He was not full of that elusive power that he hunted day after day, year after year.
He built himself a tall stone tower in a secluded part of Earunia, in the midst of a wild, tangled forest. He raised invisible, magical walls around his tower and devoted himself to the study of magic with a ferocity and determination that soon outweighed everything else in his life. He forgot his family, his friends, he forgot his old life, his old lodgings. He forgot the world. He forgot everything but magic.
It was inevitable. It had to happen. He could not escape from it now...and he waited for it and welcomed it with open arms. He felt it coming on in waves. When he was working magic the spell would come out ten times stronger than it normally did. He felt less need to sleep, less need to eat. He knew with a certain malicious glee that soon, it would take him...
He had been dozing, almost asleep over a pile of his latest magical discoveries - phenomenal ones, as usual - when he felt a strange sensation washing through his body. He sat up, quickly, and looked down at himself. His fingers and arms tingled, and he felt suddenly energetic. It was as though something was flowing through him, something powerful like a river, coursing through his body and pushing him to his feet, pushing him out the door of his work room and down the hall. He just let himself be pulled along by this invisible current, pulled towards a room on the opposite side of his large, well-furnished tower. He went down the halls, not looking right or left, until he came to a large double door. He opened it and walked in, the pupils in his bicolored eyes dilating and shrinking. He saw, inside, a servant, standing by a long table, sorting through scrolls and books. At the sound of footsteps, the servant turned around to face him.
"My lord Mieurx! A message has come from queen -"
The servant broke off as he did not answer, but simply kept stalking up to him, eyes glazed over. The servant stared up at him in horror as he reached out a finger and touched the helpless man on the forehead. The servant froze and with a small gurgle, fell to the floor. Dead.
His lips twisted in a cruel little smile and he stepped over the body. He looked at the table and there was a small scroll lying there. He picked it up with long, white fingers and unrolled it carefully. He read the message on it. From the queen of Condonia, again. He almost threw it down in disbelieving anger when the strange river that had been coursing through his body made him pick up the scroll again and read it through. When he had finished, he thought, Interesting. Perhaps it would be worth my while after all...he broke off. He was not thinking like he normally would. He knelt on the floor and felt the dead servants' pulse...he was cold, as if he had been dead a long time.
He frowned and straightened. He gestured in the air and shouted a command, and the man lying on the floor turned into a huge tree. Ahhh. Here it was, then. At last. That end, so long striven for, was achieved. He was completely and absolutely overflowing with magic. He smiled grimly. Now was the time to use his new-found power for his own good. Perhaps to get some new servants…and then, why not start with taking over the world?
