Seraphina smiled warmly, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "You see, Mira, most witches draw upon external sources of magic—the elements, celestial energies, or even spirits. But you, my dear, have a rare gift. You are the very embodiment of magic itself."
My eyes widened in astonishment. "Me? The embodiment of magic?"
Seraphina nodded, her expression filled with awe. "Yes, Mira. Your magic is not merely a channeling of external forces; it is a part of your essence. It flows through your veins, shaping your very being. You are a living conduit, capable of tapping into the raw power of creation."
My heart fluttered with a mix of wonder and trepidation. But my mind again became confuse about her statement. I own this magic or this magic owns me? Why is magic not mine even though it
