The old man passed the stone bowl to me. I stared at its contents, studying the rock powder within. A pink radiance started to shimmer from the fragments, a faint light that intensified as I pondered his remarks. Was this light a sign of magic, or was it a deception designed to make me believe. I thought about all of the stories I read over the years involving knights and wizards. I always felt like I belonged in their world more than my own. Perhaps I was destined to set off on this adventure.
I shook my head, clearing my mind of that nonsense. I was running the risk of being a modern day Don Quixote. This old man was clearly delusional and now he was sucking me into his fantasy. I looked up from the bowl, ready to refuse his offer, but the look in his gray eyes told me he wasn’t making this up. As crazy as it was, I knew in that moment that I was going to answer the call of the magic.
“Very good,” he said as he took the bowl from me. Could he read my thoughts. He tossed some dried leaves in the bowl and poured in a few drops of a thick liquid, stirring them together with the powder. Turquoise vapors rose from concoction as he mixed the ingredients. I watched with anticipation, stricken with wonder at my first glimpse of magic.
When the smoke ceased he grabbed a wooden spoon and scooped up a glob from the bowl. He consumed half before passing it over to me. He nodded as I stared at the spoon. I closed my eyes and shoved it in my mouth, forcing my mind to ignore the bitter taste.
I opened my eyes, expecting something to be different, but nothing had changed. I was still in his rickety old hut. He motioned toward the window, and what stood outside erased any doubt lingering in my mind. I had witnessed magic.
* * *
Today’s post is a response to this week’s Trifecta prompt. We were to use the third definition of the word Wonder. This is a continuation from a post that came a few weeks ago, The Call of Magic. Be sure to check that out and stay tuned for another installment in this story.