The Box

Emma looked down at the box and snorted, a cat twining itself around her ankles. An object that would shape her future? Ridiculous. The future wasn't subject to the meddling of insignificant humans. This was, no doubt, Ezra's doing. That man was the bane of Emma's existence. Just because he could travel in time didn't mean he was the foremost authority on magic. Ezra had once invited Emma to travel with him, but she couldn't leave behind her beloved cats. And then there was the lingering hope that he would return- and if that happened, Emma wanted to be ready. When Emma turned Ezra down, he seemed to take it well, but afterwards he seemed to find ways to undermine Emma: ruining her spells, taking her cats, and now this box.

Ignoring the offending object, Emma scooped up the cat still at her feet and crossed to the window, thinking. She had promised to find Diana, but her attempts at scrying had thus far been thwarted. Again, most likely because of Ezra. He was such a hypocrite, always preaching about justice and doing good, and then preventing a mother from reuniting with her daughter. Emma wondered if Diana's mother had received a box. She hoped not. That woman's future was uncertain enough. Suddenly, the cat in her arms made a noise of protest and forced her way down, sitting right on top of the box. Shaking her head Emma walked over.

"That isn't anything you want," she assured the tabby. The cat just stared defiantly up at her, its yellow eyes baleful. Sighing, Emma pushed the cat off and took the box, fully intending to put it in her closet. Still, something about the box drew her, compelled her. Muttering under her breath, she took the "mystical wonder" over to her dinner table and opened it with a knife, prepared for nothing to happen. Or worse, for something to happen.

Light flooded from the box, causing Emma to squint. The smell of lilac and raspberry filled the air, and she could hear the chirping of birds. No. Of all the tricks Ezra had played on Emma, this was by far the cruelest. Cursing the idiotic magician, she gingerly hoisted the box and shoved in her closet before collapsing on her bed, shaking. That was it. Ezra had gone too far this time. Shaking off her funk, Emma marched out of her apartment and practically sprinted to the park. She sat on a bench and waited. He would find her. He always did.

After a few minutes, Ezra joined Emma on the bench. "Did you appreciate your present?" he asked, smirking. Emma was in no mood for civility. "What is your problem?" she demanded, rising from her seat. "What did I ever do to you? Is this because I didn't join you galvanizing around the world, living nowhere, never in the same time period?" Ezra shook his head, still smiling. "I don't hate you, dear," he said in a patronizing manner. "I offered you the gift of truth. It isn't my fault you've embraced your life of lies."