Legends tell of a box that contained all the evils of the world. It changed hands so many times over the centuries that the knowledge of who created it and what kind of magic could contain such beasts as chimera's wrath, basilisk's envy, and ogre's gluttony, is now lost. Army after army had hoped to unleash its horrors on their enemies, only to be thwarted by a skilled thief, or perhaps the interference of the gods themselves. Finally, one queen had had enough. She couldn't bear the thought of her only child growing up in a world filled with such unspeakable malice and constantly entangled in the plots of men blinded by it.
She stole away one night deep into the woods, shrouded in disguise and darkness, to bury the box where no one would find it. She found a suitable place, far from her kingdom and beloved family. But just before she placed it into its intended grave, she wondered if it was even true. Perhaps she was the one who was mad. Perhaps it was just a box.
She lifted the latch.
The queen was never seen again. The box remains in the forest half-buried by time and earth, and even the surrounding trees twist away in anguish while the chimeras and basilisks and ogres freely roam the land.
Proper Cauldron Usage
"How many times must I tell you?! A witch's cauldron is not for soup!!!" the exasperated witch scolded her young apprentice, looking on as soup bubbled above the fire. Perfectly good pots and pans that hadn't been used to brew potions remained neatly stacked in their cabinets in the kitchen. Clearly the apprentice had had no intention of using them. With the amount of soup she'd made and been stirring with a wag of her finger and a small stream of minor magic, the elder witch guessed her apprentice thought the whole village needed to be fed soup tonight.
She heaved another sigh and beckoned for a spoon from the kitchen which flew to her hand effortlessly, and dipped it deftly into the soup for a taste test. "Needs some pepper," she said. The apprentice smiled sheepishly and retrieved the spice.