It was a sickness. Not a illness, or household cough... it was a plague. The Magic Plague was a horror story... something the muggles would call an apocalypse. The only thing I would call it...
My first loss was my mother... Madeline. It was my father who cut her down... attack magic had been destroyed by then. No matter how much he tried to heal her, she just got angrier and stronger. Mottled flesh, horrible smell... it was like a scene out of The Walking Dead. Laugh if you want, I liked that show, even if the muggles made it. I always watched it, and sometimes... it was stupid, but I would want to be in that world. A survivor. A warrior.
Now I just wish I had died sooner.
I expect by the end of this book I will be dead, so I will explain it at least... maybe have the possibility of someone finding it and having a laugh. I know how this all started, though... so maybe it will help.
It started with the death of some evil dark wiz, everyone thought he was the end of the world. That was before this happened... now everyone who thought that is dead. Most called him Voldemort, but his name was Tom... Riddle, I think. Whatever.
Anyway, he was killed by this innocent guy named Harry... the kind of guy who wouldn't last 2 seconds in this world, unless he was a Dancer. Don't let me get started on what that is, you'll know soon enough... but anyway, he was the man who defeated Tom. Couldn't kill the guy, so he rebounded his own curse back into him. Humiliating way to die, I gotta say. When he died, there was a curse released from his body, something that decimated magic and plagued it relentlessly. Starting slowly, but happening fast and sickening us all. We're all infected... says Rick Grimes. I laughed at his words in that time. It seems he was smarter than us, now that I think.
So yes, Rick.