Idly basking in the healing light of eternity beyond the stars, beyond the emptiness beyond those stars, the god of magic asked the goddess of fate, “Well? Why can’t we give the mortals magic?”
“You know why, Friend. They’d be corrupted by it and everything would go wrong.” The god of magic smiled, “That’s what we’ve been told forever, but what if we actually tried it?” Piercing a gossamer veil between their endless wonder and our brief weariness, they gazed upon our Earth.
“Look at them,” she said, “look how many are corrupted by even faking magic, through money, through madness, through quick talk or slight-of-hand, how they hurt each other so, imagine the real thing in their greedy little mitts.” “Do you hate them so, Fate?” “No. I pity them deeply but I’ve no doubt they couldn’t handle it. I’ve seen over and again billions of times how a bit of sex, trifling power, even a stack of papers can ruin them.” “Perhaps,” the god of magic reasoned out, “but there must be a least corruptible among them, yes? By sheer odds, simple math, there must exist a human who would do the least bad?” She smiled. “I suppose.” “What if they got magic?”
They went to the goddess of wisdom and asked, “Who is the human who would be the least evil with access to actual magic?” She pointed down through a second veil. “That one holds only the smallest grain of corruption within them.” A bet was made and the next morning, he awoke with true magic at his disposal. At first, the god of magic felt victorious, for the only ways he seemed to use his new power selfishly were small and mostly harmless to others. Made himself healthy, made himself young again? Found love not by compelling someone else to love him, but rather just using it to find the one who would love him most, then ask them on a date. This corruption was there but kept tiny by the person’s self-control and simple needs. Maybe the god was right!
But then, he and his lover had a family. He started helping his children. And his friends as well with the magic, in ways that were too obvious to not catch onto him. People became dependent upon his skill, demanding his gifts, exposed him out of spite. Suddenly, our whole world hated the man for not fixing everything with a wave of his hand. He tried to explain there were many unintended consequences for what they wanted, how what they ended up with would be awful, but none listened, humans are bottomless pits of want and saw him as history’s greatest villain.
So he went into hiding, never using his magic for anything again other than to keep living, so perhaps one day he would be forgotten and could start over? The goddess of fate just grinned.
“To think, god of magic, what would’ve happened had that gone to one of the greedier ones?”
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