The bustling dinner crowd fills Abra-Ka-Burger, where every meal is “Magic in Every Morsel!” (as the corny catchphrase above the counter proudly reads). Despite the hokey motto, it seems to work; everyone in Havenmere, from goblins to elves, cherishes this magical fast-food joint.

DARWIN DEWFLARE, a young want-to-be wizard in his early twenties, stands behind the counter, staring into the void. He watches the world outside, full of wizards, enchanted creatures, and magic-powered vehicles. Darwin’s face, longing, as he observes the town, wishing he could be out there—doing magic that matters.

But back to reality, as he’s met with the frustrated glare of an elderly witch, her graying curls bobbing under her pointed hat. She begins muttering curses about her missing “Onion Rings of Wisdom” and complaining about the “Potato Poof Puffs” she received instead.

The witch’s complaints blur into the background as Darwin reflects on his choices. He had banked on Traditional Magic making a comeback, like an old hairstyle returning to fashion. He had never expected to find himself here, taking orders for enchanted burgers instead of casting spells. But here he is, months out of college and stuck cleaning infant orc puke for a paycheck

Darwin, a recent graduate with a degree in Traditional Magic, had once dreamed of being a wizard of note, a name in spellcasting circles. But with traditional magic seen as outdated, his degree might as well be taffy flavored toilet paper. Instead of grand feats, he’s here, in Abra-Ka-Burger, fielding complaints from customers who can’t remember what they ordered and blaming him for it.

Despite the disappointment, the job at least pays enough for him to attend the Enchanté Faire—the yearly festival in Havenmere dedicated to up-and-coming spellcraft and magical gadgets. That is, when he isn’t covering shifts for his chronically late coworkers.

Darwin’s shift begins, and the rush turns into a circus of magical mishaps:

* A group of rowdy goblin children spills their Glittershakes all over the floor, laughing as each spilled drop sparkles and fizzles.

* A couple at a nearby booth has a spat, and when the man proposes, his girlfriend doesnt she the romance in a proposal inside a fast food joint. She screams out an incantation and “poof”... turns him into a frog, as she storms out of the restaurant.

* The magical “Fry Conjuring Device” puffs to life, creating enchanted fries by the handful, while the “Burger Forge” uses spell crystals to pop out “Chimera Cheeseburgers” and “Phoenix Fire Whumpers,” each burger sizzling with flavor.

* And, as always, the Enchanted Ice Cream Machine sits broken despite all attempts to repair it, its inner gears apparently impervious even to advanced charms.

Through the chaos, Darwin watches the world go by, taking note of the little bits of magic around him, wishing he were part of something more substantial.

Later that evening, as Darwin takes a moment to clear his mind, he looks up at the night sky, taking in the peace of the evening—until he sees a frog land with a splat on the window. Then another. And another.

Curious, he steps outside, eyes widening as he sees an onslaught of frogs raining down from above, dotting the streets of Havenmere like a plague of bouncing, croaking spots.

Out in the street, the chaos unfolds. Darwin stares as he sees an old wizard with a billowing beard, standing on a traditional wooden broomstick, muttering incantations with dramatic flair. Nearby, another wizard, a younger spellcaster with a bag of potion vials, furiously shakes two potions, then hurls them into the air, the glass shattering and spraying potion droplets everywhere as she tries to reverse the frog spell.

Meanwhile, a third figure—a wizard on a sleek, modern hover-broom, equipped with small enchanted drones—frantically pilots the drones to capture as many frogs as possible. Each drone whirs and weaves, carrying small, sparkling nets that scoop up frogs in batches.

It’s a sight of pure magical mayhem. Darwin watches in awe, as the frogs scatter, hop, and croak, covering every available surface. But just as quickly as the chaos arrived, the Knight Enforcers—Havenmere’s law keepers —appear, their silver badges gleaming as they reprimand the wizards for reckless spellcraft.

The scene concludes with a grand puff of pink smoke, clearing the street of frogs. When the smoke dissipates, only one frog remains, blinking in confusion—it’s the man from earlier, finally restored to his normal state after his unfortunate proposal went wrong. Darwin chuckles to himself, thinking, this is exactly the kind of life he wants—chaotic, but meaningful.

Darwin heads back into Abra-Ka-Burger, finishing out his shift. The scenes from outside replay in his mind, fueling his dreams of a life where magic isn’t just for fast-food novelties, but something real, vibrant, and meaningful.

As Darwin finally clocks out and walks home, he passes the town’s community board, a cork-covered display filled with notices for lost familiars, enchanted tutoring services, and guild postings. One flier catches his eye: “HELP WANTED: Traditional Magic Practitioner Needed. Experience Preferred. Apply at Ashbain’s General Magical Services.”

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Darwin’s eyes light up with newfound excitement. He carefully pulls down the flier, gripping it as if it’s his ticket to the life he’s dreamed of.

Darwin arrives home, greeting his mother, Sylvia, a kind but pragmatic woman who listens with quiet amusement as he tells her about the evening’s events: the frog rain, the spells, the Knight Enforcers showing up to “straighten out” the wizards, and the eccentric team of spellcasters trying to wrangle the mess.

Sylvia chuckles knowingly, and remarks that while she respects the old ways of magic, she’s skeptical of wizards clinging to the past. “The days of dragons and rock golems are over,” she says, suggesting that the guilds who cling to outdated ways are living in the past.

But Darwin just listens, a spark of rebellion in his heart, ready to dive into a world of “outdated” magic—one that might just be his path forward.

{Sylvia sets down her mug, glancing at Darwin with a smile.}

SYLVIA: I saw all that commotion on the news. Truly a shame—a wizard of that age, acting like that in public.

DARWIN: So we’re holding his age against him now? C’mon, your son’s also a “traditional wizard.” He’s just showing people that the old ways are still... relevant. And actually needed.

SYLVIA: My son is an assistant shift manager who wouldn’t dream of costing the town thousands in damages chasing a bunch of frogs around town.

DARWIN: You get what I’m saying. I want to be out there helping people, making a difference.

SYLVIA: Oh, you are helping people! When they need to feed their families, they come right to you.

DARWIN: Oh, yeah. I’m making a huge impact serving a twenty-piece Kickin' Chicken Nugget Meal. Really changing the world over here.

{Sylvia chuckles, patting his hand gently.}

SYLVIA: Listen to me. You’re capable of great things, with or without wizardry. You don’t need a spellbook to live a good life, honey. Take another year, find your way. Then, if you still want to pursue magic, you can always go back to school or find a trade. What about becoming a Knight Enforcer? You’d be protecting people, keeping those “strange wizards” off the streets. Or maybe a teacher—or a magic inspector! You’d still be around magic, helping to shut down all those rogue wizards with their rink-a-dink shops. Like the one I saw on the news tonight… run by that ancient-looking wizard who should be put in a home, playing enchanted checkers and eating prunes.

DARWIN: Mom, I need to be a wizard. I need... a purpose in my life.

{Sylvia’s expression softens, shifting slightly in her seat.}

SYLVIA: I'm not a wizard, do you think what I do has no purpose?

DARWIN: Mom…You’re the head librarian at the largest magical library within 500 km! You oversee spells and tomes that are thousands of years old. Mom, you’re the reason I wanted to be a wizard in the first place. I want to put all that knowledge to use.

SYLVIA: Your brothers have very respectable jobs that involve magic. I could talk to them about helping you find something, just until you’re on your feet.

DARWIN: {rolls his eyes} Milo is a lawyer who’s practically campaigning to add more regulations on magic users. And Grimbly? He’s a warehouse supervisor for that big magic box store, the one pushing all this stuff to make old-world magic obsolete. No, Mom, I don’t want to work with or for two people who stand against everything I love.

SYLVIA: Who says they’re against you, dear?

DARWIN: {with a deadpan stare} You don’t remember their graduation gift? A children’s magic potion set. It makes bubblegum-flavored bubbles, and it came with a costume wizard hat and beard.

SYLVIA: {holding back laughter} They were only teasing, honey. They didn’t mean any harm.

{Sylvia’s laughter fades, and she looks at Darwin with a soft smile, shaking her head slightly.}

SYLVIA: You know, I’m proud of you, no matter what you do. I just wish you could see that there are so many ways to be happy, ways to make a difference. The world has changed, honey. Wizards aren’t saving kingdoms or slaying beasts anymore. Sometimes helping people just means being there for them when they need it.

DARWIN: But that’s what I want to be, Mom. Someone people call when they’re in trouble, who’s actually making things better. Not just... filling orders for enchanted fries. I want my life to be about something more.

SYLVIA: I know you do, sweetheart. But what if you could find that “something more” in a different way? Magic has a place, sure, but it’s not the only way to live with purpose.

{He thinks about telling her about the post he saw. He starts to reach in his pocket for the paper but stops himself.}

DARWIN: But I’m still... waiting to figure it out. I’ve felt so stuck since graduation, like I’m just waiting for something to happen. And then I see people out there doing what I can only dream of doing.

SYLVIA: {sighs} I know you’re restless. Maybe... maybe you’re supposed to feel this way right now. Maybe that feeling means you’re supposed to explore. You’re young; you don’t have to know everything right this second. What if you let yourself enjoy life without expecting it to be “more” all the time?.

DARWIN: Thanks Mom, maybe I will just start enjoying life, seeing what’s out there maybe. I’ll figure this out. One way or another.

{He reaches in his pocket and crumbles up the paper, then throws it in the trash}

SYLVIA: What was that?

DARWIN: Nothing, just a leftover receipt from work.

{Sylvia reaches out and give her son a big hug and kisses him on the cheek}

SYLVIA: Why don’t you go ahead and turn in for the night. We can talk more tomorrow if you want or you don’t have to talk about it at all. Either way, I’m here for you, my baby boy.

{Darwin nods, his expression stale, feeling a little defeated that his mom just didn’t seem to understand. Sylvia watches him walk slowly towards his bed with his head hung low. Her mother’s tuition tells her to look down into the trash. She retrieves the paper he threw away and reads it. She lets out a big sigh and thinks to herself… What’s the worst that can happen?”}