What happened if one has acquired a new ability? It would be proved through trials where mistakes were made and lessons were learned, leading to further testing and further learning. An endless cycle until the person surrendered and declared, "I have mastered this ability."
Trinketshore, although a small borough was by no means filled with those with small minds. Of course, there were such people all over the world, including here. But they contributed to the rich tapestry of life in the town, which was full of quirky and outrageous tales.
There was a time, when a middle-aged young lad had just been kicked out of his house by his family after committing several acts of violence against them. The young man's family tried to help him, to the point where they said, "That's enough! You're not part of us anymore." The lad could only threaten and reproach, as a normal adolescent would. He would be tested whether his ability to survive in the world's wilderness was comparable to his ability to cast heart-breaking incantations from his lips.
They did not expel this young lad just because of minor domestic violence. Living as a methamphetamine addict, he had committed acts of crime. Stealing, threatening others to hand him money, to robbing local banks. His income was not to fund his academy fees or some generous charities, but rather to enjoy heaven on earth in the form of liquid, smoked through a pipe. A series of rehabilitation were nothing more than a meaningless homily. A cell group story session that was utterly boring than death itself.
Now that he had been expelled, how would this addict fulfill this primary need if he had nothing in his sack? He had nothing to raid a tavern, and he would be shot to death if he dared to set foot on the lawn of his old settlement again.
One night, the young lad hid behind Howlett's to pick up a portion of leftover meat and tender bones that were dumped in a trash can, in an alley next to the restaurant. When the restaurant closed and the employees went back to their homes, he stormed the trash can and looked for leftovers that he thought were still edible before the garbage carriage devour them instead. He had seen a bunch of homeless eating food from rubbish bins like a feast for Hogmanay, and some of them were damn healthy and well. Unfortunately, having a feast of leftovers like the raccoons still required disciplined and dedicated practice. And the addict did not enjoy his culinary experience at the time—not at all.
While chewing the food from the garbage can, he saw a sinister figure in front of the alley appear of a sudden, making him almost vomit. He dressed in black, but what made the addict retch in terror was that the figure had the head of a male elk. Whether it was just a prank mask or the entity himself indeed had the head of an elk, the addict assumed the latter. How could he not? The figure not only showed its head but also a long furry neck that stuck out, very much like an elk's neck. His characteristics made his body proportions look bizarre.
The strange figure began to walk towards the addict, and the addict backed away, holding his hands out in defense. His eyes bulged with fear, but his cheeks were puffy from still chewing the remaining meat.
"Hey, easy there, bruv," said the junkie pretentiously familiar. "You want the rest of the meat? Go ahead, take it all. There's no need to scare me like that, man. It's not like I fancy them, anyway."
The Deer-Man stopped right after the addict said so. He bugled, then spoke in the human language. "I have ...," he grabbed something from the shirt hole in his left hand, "Something that can satisfy your desire." The Elk-Man took out a small black pouch and placed it in his left hand.
"My desire? What do you mean? What is that thing?" asked the addict, shuddered even more.
"Oh, nothing. Just a variety that gives you unlimited pleasure. Makes you happier, makes you… stronger...," the Deer-Man in his low, gloomy voice uttered. "Being stronger… makes you feel you can do magic…. No… not just a mere feeling, but actually... experiencing magic."
The chap's breath caught in his throat upon glimpsing that wee pouch. His skin prickled with gooseflesh at the sight of the deer-headed bloke, who promptly proffered a far weightier concoction of methamphetamine, potent enough to make the imbiber feel like a magus. Might this Deer-Man truly be a magus of sorts? The dark sack itself exuded an air of suspicion, lest the poor fellow wished to poison himself with the magus's elixir, intended to inflict harm upon him!
But of course, with his shallow thinking, this could very well be an offer of a lifetime! He imagined that behind the sack lay an irresistibly tempting lump of transparent chunk of crystalline clarity, poised to whisk him away and reunite him with his pseudo-euphoric best friend once again. Free meth samples? Don't mind If I do! The addict himself already had his withdrawal syndrome ever since he was banished from his house. He truly needed this as a means of life support.
The man approached the magus with the elk's head and ascertained, "T-this… really free? You're not going to poison me, are you?"
"This is just a sample, good sire. If you are fond of it, I know where I can find you."
The addict looked at the pouch with a furious face, slowly showing his yellowish-black, almost toothless teeth, the remains of battlefield. He gritted his teeth more. No more waiting for another lifetime to try the chef's concoction.
"Screw it! Give it to me!"
"Wise choice."
The Deer-Man extracted the pipe from his left sleeve again, then poured this "variety" of meth into it. The black crystals of various sizes came out with purple crack lines. They appeared distinct from the meth the addict had previously partaken, which was more transparent in colour, but no matter. It was better than nothing. After taking out all the crystals, the Deer-Man placed the pipe on his palm, and to the addict's astonishment, the crystals inexplicably liquefied and began to bubble on their own! The addict stared wide-eyed at the pipe, then at the elk's head, gasping. This elk-headed freak is indeed a bloody mage!
The elk-headed magus continued to heat up the pipe until all the liquid in it began to evaporate and pulled out pink smoke, directing the piping tip to the addict.
The impatient addict immediately grabbed it and sucked all the gas into his living system. Moments passed, and he was shocked, coughing while exhaling purple smoke. He was getting enthusiastic. His face was shining again, and his confidence skyrocketed. Today, the addict was back to being a champion!
"Fuck! This shite ¹skelped like a pure dead brilliant! No joke! Hey ye, where did ye get..."
He looked around and found no one. The Deer-Man dissipated from his senses. He seemed not to care again, taking another sip of purplish-fogged goodness. The veins on his head turned a light purplish hue. The more he inhaled, the more his nerves flashed. He just could not stop himself at all.
It was that insane, as if there was no end to it. The junkie started dancing and snickering loudly in the middle of the street, howling as loud as the emergency siren. The world was already in his grasp. Here it was. This was the definition of happiness that travellers and philosophers have been looking for. No meaning. Just a never-ending dopamine rush. A simple intuition that asked him to act mad. The addict took one last puff, and that was when something happened.
Veins and eyeballs shone neon lights. He felt a surge of energy within his body, asking him to let it out. The junkie then faced the front of Howlett's restaurant. The urge grew even stronger, he started aiming at the front door with his hand, leaving his palm open with slightly bent fingers. While aiming for the spot, He once again hollered, "This is for providing me rotten meat and stale scran!"
With a sudden surge of pink energy emanating from his hand, a powerful beam tore through the structure, obliterating Howlett's Restaurant in a single devastating strike. The establishment was completely razed to the ground, not even having a chance to catch fire!
"Whoo! Taste that burned meat, fucking Howlett! Woohoo, Trinketshore! There's a new magus in town! Pave yer way for the earth's greatest magus!"
He then disappeared into the dark shadows. []
What happened if one has acquired a new ability? It would be proved through trials where mistakes were made and lessons were learned, leading to further testing and further learning. An endless cycle until the person surrendered and declared, "I have mastered this ability."
Trinketshore, although a small borough was by no means filled with those with small minds. Of course, there were such people all over the world, including here. But they contributed to the rich tapestry of life in the town, which was full of quirky and outrageous tales.
There was a time, when a middle-aged young lad had just been kicked out of his house by his family after committing several acts of violence against them. The young man's family tried to help him, to the point where they said, "That's enough! You're not part of us anymore." The lad could only threaten and reproach, as a normal adolescent would. He would be tested whether his ability to survive in the world's wilderness was comparable to his ability to cast heart-breaking incantations from his lips.
They did not expel this young lad just because of minor domestic violence. Living as a methamphetamine addict, he had committed acts of crime. Stealing, threatening others to hand him money, to robbing local banks. His income was not to fund his academy fees or some generous charities, but rather to enjoy heaven on earth in the form of liquid, smoked through a pipe. A series of rehabilitation were nothing more than a meaningless homily. A cell group story session that was utterly boring than death itself.
Now that he had been expelled, how would this addict fulfill this primary need if he had nothing in his sack? He had nothing to raid a tavern, and he would be shot to death if he dared to set foot on the lawn of his old settlement again.
One night, the young lad hid behind Howlett's to pick up a portion of leftover meat and tender bones that were dumped in a trash can, in an alley next to the restaurant. When the restaurant closed and the employees went back to their homes, he stormed the trash can and looked for leftovers that he thought were still edible before the garbage carriage devour them instead. He had seen a bunch of homeless eating food from rubbish bins like a feast for Hogmanay, and some of them were damn healthy and well. Unfortunately, having a feast of leftovers like the raccoons still required disciplined and dedicated practice. And the addict did not enjoy his culinary experience at the time—not at all.
While chewing the food from the garbage can, he saw a sinister figure in front of the alley appear of a sudden, making him almost vomit. He dressed in black, but what made the addict retch in terror was that the figure had the head of a male elk. Whether it was just a prank mask or the entity himself indeed had the head of an elk, the addict assumed the latter. How could he not? The figure not only showed its head but also a long furry neck that stuck out, very much like an elk's neck. His characteristics made his body proportions look bizarre.
The strange figure began to walk towards the addict, and the addict backed away, holding his hands out in defense. His eyes bulged with fear, but his cheeks were puffy from still chewing the remaining meat.
"Hey, easy there, bruv," said the junkie pretentiously familiar. "You want the rest of the meat? Go ahead, take it all. There's no need to scare me like that, man. It's not like I fancy them, anyway."
The Deer-Man stopped right after the addict said so. He bugled, then spoke in the human language. "I have ...," he grabbed something from the shirt hole in his left hand, "Something that can satisfy your desire." The Elk-Man took out a small black pouch and placed it in his left hand.
"My desire? What do you mean? What is that thing?" asked the addict, shuddered even more.
"Oh, nothing. Just a variety that gives you unlimited pleasure. Makes you happier, makes you… stronger...," the Deer-Man in his low, gloomy voice uttered. "Being stronger… makes you feel you can do magic…. No… not just a mere feeling, but actually... experiencing magic."
The chap's breath caught in his throat upon glimpsing that wee pouch. His skin prickled with gooseflesh at the sight of the deer-headed bloke, who promptly proffered a far weightier concoction of methamphetamine, potent enough to make the imbiber feel like a magus. Might this Deer-Man truly be a magus of sorts? The dark sack itself exuded an air of suspicion, lest the poor fellow wished to poison himself with the magus's elixir, intended to inflict harm upon him!
But of course, with his shallow thinking, this could very well be an offer of a lifetime! He imagined that behind the sack lay an irresistibly tempting lump of transparent chunk of crystalline clarity, poised to whisk him away and reunite him with his pseudo-euphoric best friend once again. Free meth samples? Don't mind If I do! The addict himself already had his withdrawal syndrome ever since he was banished from his house. He truly needed this as a means of life support.
The man approached the magus with the elk's head and ascertained, "T-this… really free? You're not going to poison me, are you?"
"This is just a sample, good sire. If you are fond of it, I know where I can find you."
The addict looked at the pouch with a furious face, slowly showing his yellowish-black, almost toothless teeth, the remains of battlefield. He gritted his teeth more. No more waiting for another lifetime to try the chef's concoction.
"Screw it! Give it to me!"
"Wise choice."
The Deer-Man extracted the pipe from his left sleeve again, then poured this "variety" of meth into it. The black crystals of various sizes came out with purple crack lines. They appeared distinct from the meth the addict had previously partaken, which was more transparent in colour, but no matter. It was better than nothing. After taking out all the crystals, the Deer-Man placed the pipe on his palm, and to the addict's astonishment, the crystals inexplicably liquefied and began to bubble on their own! The addict stared wide-eyed at the pipe, then at the elk's head, gasping. This elk-headed freak is indeed a bloody mage!
The elk-headed magus continued to heat up the pipe until all the liquid in it began to evaporate and pulled out pink smoke, directing the piping tip to the addict.
The impatient addict immediately grabbed it and sucked all the gas into his living system. Moments passed, and he was shocked, coughing while exhaling purple smoke. He was getting enthusiastic. His face was shining again, and his confidence skyrocketed. Today, the addict was back to being a champion!
"Fuck! This shite ¹skelped like a pure dead brilliant! No joke! Hey ye, where did ye get..."
He looked around and found no one. The Deer-Man dissipated from his senses. He seemed not to care again, taking another sip of purplish-fogged goodness. The veins on his head turned a light purplish hue. The more he inhaled, the more his nerves flashed. He just could not stop himself at all.
It was that insane, as if there was no end to it. The junkie started dancing and snickering loudly in the middle of the street, howling as loud as the emergency siren. The world was already in his grasp. Here it was. This was the definition of happiness that travellers and philosophers have been looking for. No meaning. Just a never-ending dopamine rush. A simple intuition that asked him to act mad. The addict took one last puff, and that was when something happened.
Veins and eyeballs shone neon lights. He felt a surge of energy within his body, asking him to let it out. The junkie then faced the front of Howlett's restaurant. The urge grew even stronger, he started aiming at the front door with his hand, leaving his palm open with slightly bent fingers. While aiming for the spot, He once again hollered, "This is for providing me rotten meat and stale scran!"
With a sudden surge of pink energy emanating from his hand, a powerful beam tore through the structure, obliterating Howlett's Restaurant in a single devastating strike. The establishment was completely razed to the ground, not even having a chance to catch fire!
"Whoo! Taste that burned meat, fucking Howlett! Woohoo, Trinketshore! There's a new magus in town! Pave yer way for the earth's greatest magus!"
He then disappeared into the dark shadows. []
