A Pot of Magic
She accepted the gift with the understanding that it was just another cheap imitation of magic. A little pot of pretend power, best given to a child, whose glee would far surpass any caring mustered by a proper adult. She picked up the small jar and carried it to a shelf. Vaguely curious, she unscrewed the lid for a glance before leaving it to be forgotten on the shelf. She swabbed the surface of the contents with a finger and froze. Instead of somewhat soft and the slightly greasy, the surface was hard, smooth, and clean. No residue came away with her finger at her touch. There was a secondary seal on the contents.
She smiled. This changes everything.
It was the real thing after all.
Here was a small dose of imagination, beauty, mystery, and desire. This magic had real power to transform the wielder.
A younger person might have removed the seal at once in order to test the nature of this power. To dip a fingertip into the tiny vat of near-powder and spread it on a cheek or the back of a hand. But she was not so foolish. The size of the vessel was almost immaterial when weighing the danger of its contents. Only in the very worst of circumstances would it matter if the jar held a teaspoon or a cup. The easiest of disasters were equally possible with either portion. Once the seal was broken, there was no going back. Once escaped, the contents would never be coaxed or tricked into returning to their container. The magic would slowly seep into every portion of self and sanctuary. And magic gone awry is less power and more curse, it is known. One could limit the extent of the inevitable damage by application of proper care, but was such a power worth the annoyance?
This was a question for another time. She had no intention of dabbling in it now. And though the decision to meddle was irrevocable, the decision to ignore could be continuously remade until curiosity or want of the power got the better of her. It was a charming, excellent sort of magic after all, inevitable mess aside. Perhaps she would invent a need for it soon. Just for fun. She could use a dose of imagination and desire... yes, perhaps she would.
She smiled. This changes everything.
It was the real thing after all.
Here was a small dose of imagination, beauty, mystery, and desire. This magic had real power to transform the wielder.
A younger person might have removed the seal at once in order to test the nature of this power. To dip a fingertip into the tiny vat of near-powder and spread it on a cheek or the back of a hand. But she was not so foolish. The size of the vessel was almost immaterial when weighing the danger of its contents. Only in the very worst of circumstances would it matter if the jar held a teaspoon or a cup. The easiest of disasters were equally possible with either portion. Once the seal was broken, there was no going back. Once escaped, the contents would never be coaxed or tricked into returning to their container. The magic would slowly seep into every portion of self and sanctuary. And magic gone awry is less power and more curse, it is known. One could limit the extent of the inevitable damage by application of proper care, but was such a power worth the annoyance?
This was a question for another time. She had no intention of dabbling in it now. And though the decision to meddle was irrevocable, the decision to ignore could be continuously remade until curiosity or want of the power got the better of her. It was a charming, excellent sort of magic after all, inevitable mess aside. Perhaps she would invent a need for it soon. Just for fun. She could use a dose of imagination and desire... yes, perhaps she would.