
She knew her curiosity would one day kill her. She just didn’t know how it was going to happen.
What is magic? Is it of the devil, God or human scheming? If she asked the magicians, they would speak in favor of magic. If she asked a devout priest, the priest might condemn it. What to do? Taste it herself and judge for herself.
She goes to see a cunning figure referred to as the ancient one. The ancient one informed her that every now and then, a magician’s hair caught fire while performing at key magic shows. It seemed it wasn’t meant for everyone. Those who were destined for magic didn’t face such unfortunate deaths.
To test if she was born for it, the ancient one recommended she cast her beads worn around her waist on a dock. And while doing so, name her wish.
Excited, she hurried to a dock, looked around to see if someone was watching, unzipped her pants slightly, tore her waist beads and tossed them into the air. Her wish: a million dollars, rolling down in place of the beads.
Instead, various birds and waterfowl popped up from no where and went after her beads turned into manna.
It was not good. A bad omen.
To be cocksure the results she was witnessing were genuine and that magic wasn’t really meant for her, she clandestinely went to see another magician popularly known as Grandpapa Pi.
This papa Pi, or whatever his name was, took poison, pronounced her name over it thrice and handed it to her. It was the test. If she drank it and lived, it was her welcome message from the world of magicians.
If she drank and died, that was the end.
She took a long look at the forbidden fruit in her hands and wondered if it was worth the bite.
