It was warm for spring.
Shafts of light exposed the dust motes inside the quiet shop, warming up wooden furniture and causing the many bottles of magic dust to shimmer like a mirage. Despite the warmth, the fireplace still crackled, a cauldron of starsand being toasted slowly, while the owner of the shop, a young man with curly strands of brown hair, washed and dried empty bottles. The glass was more aesthetic than mere bags, but they were also more expensive to procure as well, meaning that most of the time, he’d end up asking people to return the bottles once they were emptied.
Didn’t always work, of course. Some people thought that the price of his magic included the bottles.
Still, it was nice, mind-numbing, hand-cooling work. Most people would be heading here in the evening, after all, but he wasn’t exactly going to just close the shop during the day either. Who knew when someone would need some magic to spice up their lunch time meal, or some magic to give that extra impact for their outfit, or some magic just to relax after a day’s work when you couldn’t afford to go drinking? Of course, his main profits still came from magical fertilizer and the weather prediction pamphlets he released, but Allereun could still dream. His study, as unofficial and unsanctioned by the Church as it was, was the study of emotional magic, the ability to inspire happiness in people, after all.
Happiness in a stifled, but safe world. The most profitable venture ever.
Wiping his hands off on a towel, the mage set the bottles out by the water to dry, before picking up the bucket of dirtied water with him. With a single, practiced motion, he swung open the door and tossed the water out.
Unfortunately, there just happened to be some kid standing right there.
"Oops."
Shafts of light exposed the dust motes inside the quiet shop, warming up wooden furniture and causing the many bottles of magic dust to shimmer like a mirage. Despite the warmth, the fireplace still crackled, a cauldron of starsand being toasted slowly, while the owner of the shop, a young man with curly strands of brown hair, washed and dried empty bottles. The glass was more aesthetic than mere bags, but they were also more expensive to procure as well, meaning that most of the time, he’d end up asking people to return the bottles once they were emptied.
Didn’t always work, of course. Some people thought that the price of his magic included the bottles.
Still, it was nice, mind-numbing, hand-cooling work. Most people would be heading here in the evening, after all, but he wasn’t exactly going to just close the shop during the day either. Who knew when someone would need some magic to spice up their lunch time meal, or some magic to give that extra impact for their outfit, or some magic just to relax after a day’s work when you couldn’t afford to go drinking? Of course, his main profits still came from magical fertilizer and the weather prediction pamphlets he released, but Allereun could still dream. His study, as unofficial and unsanctioned by the Church as it was, was the study of emotional magic, the ability to inspire happiness in people, after all.
Happiness in a stifled, but safe world. The most profitable venture ever.
Wiping his hands off on a towel, the mage set the bottles out by the water to dry, before picking up the bucket of dirtied water with him. With a single, practiced motion, he swung open the door and tossed the water out.
Unfortunately, there just happened to be some kid standing right there.
"Oops."