A Long time ago when fairies existed. There was a magic dust that their wings could produce. Dragons, wizards and all sorts of mystical beings were made real because of the fairies dust. They turned this dust into a magic powder that made impossible into possibility. In the old texts people claimed that dragons used to be normal humans. These humans wanted to have wings, breath fire and hoard gold. Wizards gained their supernatural magic prowess by ingesting the powder like a magic potion. Other magical beings were crafted out of imagination of those who use the powder on other humans, animals, plants, trees or non-living things. It's powers were limitless as it could summon food by turning stones into living chickens or make corncobs ten times of their size. Anything you wished could be changed or modified.
Slowly the fairies went extinct as humans became too obsessed by their magic. Destroying their small homes by by their sheer size and mass. They captured the female fairies and treating them like tools rather than people. Kings, Queens and Noblemen in the past used the magic dust to simple things that were too complicated for them and even used fairies magic to their own gains and needs.
One day an alchemist requested one of the kings to give him a ten gallons worth of magic powder for his own experiments. The king agreed only if he could be the one to see their research privately and use it how ever he saw fit. The alchemist didn't care and agreed with the king's term without knowing that it would be his doom. Alchemist's request made the fairies extinct as every single on of them were used to produce so much magic dust. Years went by and the king extended his life with the dust he had left. The alchemist brewed and finally after ten years got the mixture down in a simple blueprint. On that same moment the king betrayed the alchemist and made sure that they wouldn't see an another day.
King, who had the blueprint, ordered his own private alchemists to produce even more of this artificial magic dust with the alchemist's blueprint. The king's alchemists got the copy of the blueprint and produces the first batch of it. At the same time the kingdom was attacked by a neighbouring country and all the alchemists of that land split the power they've produced among themselves. The king met his demise by a flying rock from trebutchet that wasn't even aimed at him. Call it a bad luck or ill-timed fate but the king never saw the next morning.
Except...
It is now the modern times. One of the king's old alchemists who kept the most of the magic powder containers is living his life as a drifter. He's selling his old junk at a flea market. Sadly, as he has lived for so long, accidentally misplaced one of the magic powder containers inside a brass drinking boot he kept as his priced possession when he worked as an alchemist for the king. It contained a milk jug worth of the dust inside it closed by a flimsy lid.
On that same day a descendant of the king arrived at the flea market. King had never known that one of the maids had beared his child and lived a life of her own not telling about their true father. Now the man who resembled the previous king in his twenties approached the mysterious brass boot. He spun the boot in his hands and was amazed how well maintained it looked.
"Good day Mark. I see you are interest in my old friend's precious antiques?" The store clerk laughed as he greeted the man.
"Good day to you too Mr. Wilsson. You friend has an unique taste for this sort of stuff. I swear that this is brand new." Mark replied.
"I'm amazed where he had even found that. That kind of brass work isn't something you find every day. It reminds me one of the boots I even used to drink from." Mr Wilsson nodded.
"Drink? I wouldn't have guessed it as a drinking glass..." Mark awed.
"Well, he's an odd fellow sometimes. His accent gives him away as no-one talks like he does and he's always talking about magic and fairies like they are real." Mr Wilsson stated. "You know what, if you hand me ten dollars right now, You can keep it."
"Woah. Okay, here you go." Mark said and handed the middle aged man ten dollar bill.
As Mark left the building he noticed a man entering by the same entryway. The grumpy looking old man pushed Mark away from the door as he entered the building and stomped his way towards Mr Wilsson. At the same time Mark rolled his eyes and walked towards his car to bring the brass boot back at his student apartment.
"Hey kid!" Mark heard in a distance...