Magic, as most would expect, is a mysterious thing. How does it work? What rules does it follow? Where does such reality-warping power come from, and how do mere mortals tap into it? Does it come from the soul, the human imagination, or some otherworldly, arcane place?

Questions like this have haunted scholars since time immemorial. Wizards believe their power stems from Cherus Crystals, which is why mages embed these stones into their staves and flesh. Depending on the spell, wizards could rule the world. Witches, on the other hand, believe magic is entwined with Mother Nature, which is why many enchantresses live-and-breath a rustic lifestyle, often living in cottages deep in forests and rural communities. While not harmless, witches respect people too much to claim dominion... although the occasional flesh-melting curse never damned anyone. And, predictably, occultists claim magic stems from eldritch gods older than time itself, and heap praise and devotion upon such mindless abomination in return for power. And so on and so on...

In a way, each group is right. Magic, regardless of its source, can be found anywhere. It lies within one's breath, in the darkest of forests, and within the bosoms of elder gods. One simply needs to know how to look. Properly.

Such questions didn't bother Myra Roux, Mistress of Magic, once upon a time. She led a humble life as an illusionist, an entertainer who made coins vanish and doves appear from thin air. Myra was content, happy even, to make children smile and perform at birthday parties. Sure, the job didn't pay well, the benefits were non-existent, and drunk dads would hit on her uncomfortably often, but it was a living. Myra was a master of sleight-of-hand since childhood, perhaps the only thing she was ever good at, and it felt right. Maybe, once she hit her thirties, Myra might've gotten a "real" job and quit the magic business, but as a 20-something, she wanted to enjoy her youth.

Then, one day, Myra's whole world turned upside down. After someone got sick in her hat, Myra needed a replacement. After all, a magician might as well not be a magician without a hat! Luckily, she stumbled upon a strange store called Sinful Selections, which sold dozens upon dozens of curious baubles. Although the store owner was creepy and grinned much too wide, they sold her a new hat, complete with a velvet finish and extra-wide brim. What luck!

... or not. The moment Myra put the hat upon her head, it came alive! It was a magic hat, well-and-truly magical. That part, Myra could appreciate. Now, her performances could really shine! She could blow away crowds with lights, explosions, everything! As a humble stage magician, she didn't have the budget for flashy, jaw-dropping spectacles. No, the part that really got under Myra's skin was, well, the hat itself. It wasn't a friend, but a parasite, one that embedded itself into Myra's very flesh. Now, the two are inseparable and Myra has to deal with its constant chatter, bullying, and magical antics.

Not to mention its... appetite.

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Art by the amazingly affable  agentv. Merla began as an adoptable from this mad lad, and I can only hope to breath enough life into this character to match their awesome artwork.

Spider8Fiend: Feel free to share whatever comments you have in mind! If you have any criticism to offer, however, please try to make it constructive. If you have a lot to say, feel free to PM me as well so the comment section doesn't get too full~

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