For years, the wizard had lived in Hell. He'd been trying to wave his magic wand at the wrong things. He'd used his powers for the vilest of motives. He'd wished people dead, wished people into prison, and put all of his energy into manifesting these outcomes. He'd made many suffer. He'd driven the spikes into himself. He'd worshipped his own image, and he'd spent years indulging himself in righteous anger. No amount of magic was going to solve this problem. In fact, as he'd discovered, magic only made this worse.
Real magic involved sending a message.
He decided to start seeking the perfect spell. He nearly found it, but then it slipped through his fingers. He nearly found it again, but it didn't work. He nearly found another perfect spell, but it was beyond his reach. He found a great incantation, but he muttered the words badly and it blundered. He found other incantations that were perfect, but they were too long to remember. He found another incantation that could be perfect, but only if shrouded in silence. His voice and his mind had to be quiet in order for the spell to work.
Eventually, he sadly found that magic offered no solace from hard work. For years, he remained disappointed. He quit, and went back to his day job at the office. They talked behind his back at the water cooler, and he didn't have the courage to ask for a raise. He slaved away doing other people's dirty work, and wishing he had the magic to change it. He wished he could wave a magic wand at them and make them scream out in pain. He wished he could use his magic wand to impregnate women with demonic babies who would eat them alive from the inside out. He envisioned many such horrible things, and he remained in Hell.
One day, the fires of Hell grew too hot to bear. He refused to take it any longer and jumped into the flames. He burned so brilliantly that his pain awakened him. He woke up. He was alive. He felt the joy of being in the moment. He needed no magic. He was fulfilled.
Then, the phone rang and it was bad news. He was going back to Hell. He stayed there for more years, gritting his teeth and hating who he was. He wished he'd been blessed with better luck. He wished he could turn back the clock and put himself into a situation that might have worked out differently if he'd planned ahead. He wished he had the magic to do this. He wished he had the magic to bring him the perfect woman and rob her of her free will, so that she'd have to fall in love with him. He wished he had the magic to make money. Then, finances would no longer concern him, and he'd be free of Hell.
A year later, he was still saying the same. He hopped out of Hell yet again. He realized he wouldn't stay out very long. He was being let out to exercise, then he'd go back in. He needed to remember that he could get out and stay out. But first, he had to dive all the way to the bottom. To the part of Hell that he was afraid of. He'd have to leap all the way in, and only in this part of Hell would he find magic powerful enough to boost him all the way to Heaven.
He took a deep breath, and dove in, smiling.
