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Edarial is nine, and he's avoiding his mother again.

Exploring the palace gets old after a while, but the library's even worse, and he suspects that if he spent any more time in his room, he'd scream. So, exploring the palace it is. Berathyme's with him, anyway, so the palace won't be so boring. She tends to make observations he didn't notice himself, and that's always interesting, if not always useful. Corridor, corridor, guest rooms, oh yes that is the closet with all of the uncomfortably looking coats, he'd forgotten about that one. Berathyme observes that they've been used relatively recently, some poor souls must have suffered - and then he opens a door and there's something he doesn't recognize.

He stares at the bar in confusion, consults briefly with Berathyme, and then wanders in.

What exactly is going on here?
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Right now, it is being mopped, by a skinny girl just a touch younger than he is, hair tied back with a string.

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"Excuse me," asks Edarial, "why is there a bar where a closet should be?"

Berathyme lets out a little hiss, and says at his shoulder, "You're speaking in my language, why? I thought you'd want her to understand you."

"... Um? I'm not?" says a bewildered prince.
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"Oh, hello. This is Milliways. It goes in doors to places, sometimes, and then when you go home and close the door again it will be gone. And it does translation magic!"

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"How does it do any of those things?" asks Edarial with a squeak.
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"It's magic!"

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"Oh. This - must have taken someone ages for the hex. I wonder why they wanted it so badly."

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"Huh? Oh, it's probably not the same kind of magic."

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"There are different kinds?" asks Edarial. "... Can I learn them?"

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"I haven't found any I can learn yet, but whenever I get a door I stay as long as I can so I can meet people. Can I learn yours?"

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"I. Don't know why you couldn't, have you talked to your spirit animal about it?"

"She might not have one," says Berathyme gently.

"... If you don't, uh. Then. That would be why you couldn't."
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"I don't have one."

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"I'm sorry," he says, sincerely. "I don't know how you'd get one if you don't have one already."

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"Well, maybe somebody else will come along."

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"Maybe. I have a few spells? I can charge and cast them for you?"

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"What can you do?"

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"Small things, like - I can clean messes, and fix scrapes, and I got Zevros to - um, borrow a spell chart for making a shield for me to look at, so I can do that too."

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"If you do my job for me with the messes then I won't be doing it and I have to do it to have my room here. And I don't have any scrapes right now and getting into fights in the bar isn't allowed so a shield would only be good if you came home with me."

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"Oh. I'm sorry. A hex would probably be more useful, but - I don't know any of those."

He seems quietly annoyed at himself for this transgression.
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"It's okay, nobody else can help me either."

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"Help with what, child?" asks the talking snake curled around the nine year old.

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"Getting magic to bring home with me."

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"What do you need it for?" wonders Berathyme.

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"Well, it'd depend on what kind of magic it was."

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"If you were given omnipotence, what would you do?" asks the python.

"It's weird how you can just ask her yourself," observes Edarial. "Weird and convenient."

"Yes."
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"Ooh - um, well, I'd make sure everybody had enough food, and I'd make them stop doing the Hunger Games, and I would put the president and everybody who helped him in jail, and if I was good and proper omnipotent I'd get everybody who died to be alive again but probably not all at once because other people are living in their houses and stuff now so I'd have to make sure they had places to live, and I'd get rid of the bad mutts, and I would make it so there wasn't salt fever or any other diseases any more, and if I was really really omnipotent I would get doors here all the time and hang out and help everybody else once I was done!"

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