Guilian felt reality slowly coming back. He'd wielded dark magic - made it work - feeling the satisfaction of not only performing it, but the thrill of the darkness. That was the dangerous lure of dark magic, and why so many were warned not to use it. Not everyone was affected the same way by dark magic - some would never hear the darkness. If you weren't in tune with that type of magic, then you might just feel uncomfortable performing such spells. It was like elemental magic. Some could wield fire, others could manipulate water. Guilian could make darkness work for him.
But now he had come back to his senses, he realised why it was so addictive. He could have gone on and on. The rend in his soul was now a receptacle that wanted to collect darkness, and that was something he knew he could never change. "It's always going to be like this?" he asked Rabastan. "Or does it get easier?"
He knew now that he could never live without hearing darkness praising him, but he knew that it could just as easily consume him. He felt the warm hand on his shoulder, taking his wand as it was returned. Giving Rabastan a look, he nodded. "Thank you," he said with his own voice now hoarse.
"Should I be avoiding dark magic?" he asked, wondering if it would be perhaps easier if he tried to stop.