An Anxious Return - Magic & Mushrooms

A feeling of hopelessness and failure weighed heavily on Reuben in the days following the realization that his sacred bottle had been filled by a mere toadstool. Disappointment gnawed at him — not only because it wasn’t the powerful soul he had hoped for, but because he felt he had failed Zeke and the entire Lab 305 community. Who would choose a toadstool? It was far from anyone’s first choice, and certainly not his.

Over the next couple of weeks, Reuben poured his energy into finding a way to release the soul from the bottle without breaking it. The thought of reaching out to Zeke crossed his mind more than once, but fear held him back — fear of looking foolish or, worse, being dismissed entirely. So he kept his dilemma to himself and scoured every resource he could find. Unfortunately, his books and online research offered little guidance on how to reverse this type of soul capture.

He often found himself staring into the bottle, watching the swirling red and orange smoke inside, imagining the types of souls he could have captured. A majestic phoenix, a mischievous forest fae, or even a graceful fox — each thought felt like a missed opportunity. The reality of what he had actually captured filled him with growing despair. But he knew he had to send the bottle back, no matter how much he dreaded the outcome.

Reuben sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the swirling colors within the glass. With a sigh of anxiety, he picked up a pen and a piece of paper, trying to compose a letter to Zeke. After several crumpled drafts, he finally settled on something that seemed passable, even if it didn’t fully convey his sense of regret.

Dear Zeke,

First and foremost, I want to express my deepest gratitude for the incredible opportunity to serve as a guardian to one of these remarkable, magical creatures. This gift is something I will always hold dear, and I am truly honored to have been entrusted with such a responsibility.

The bottle itself remains safe, as you can see. It is even filled, though not in the way I had hoped. Unfortunately, I have some disheartening news to share. Despite my efforts to protect it, a toadstool accidentally fell into the crate where I had carefully stored the bottle. By the next morning, the bottle was filled and the mushroom had withered away. I am deeply sorry for this oversight and regret not taking greater precautions with the lab’s valuable equipment.

I understand that the soul within the bottle may not be worthy or suitable for such an esteemed experiment. If that is the case, I fully respect your decision to dispose of it in whatever manner the lab deems appropriate. Should this mean that my gift is revoked, I will accept that outcome with humility. However, please know that I am willing to take full responsibility for this accidental capture.

If I do not hear back from you, I will understand. In the meantime, please extend my best wishes to everyone at Lab 305.

With sincere apologies,

Reuben Rothmore

He read over the letter several times, sadness clouding his expression. Once he was satisfied with it, he folded the paper into thirds and slipped it into an envelope addressed to Zeke Farris. He placed the letter alongside the completed paperwork on top of the briefcase and securely closed it. Reuben locked the case, then carefully packed it into a new box lined with bubble wrap. He taped the box shut meticulously, addressing it with shaky hands, and called the courier service to arrange a pick-up.

For the next hour, the sealed box sat inside his front door while Reuben remained on the couch, nervously biting his nails. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dissatisfaction, plagued by thoughts of what might have been. The beautiful souls he had imagined capturing drifted through his mind like ghosts of missed chances.

Finally, a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Reuben opened it to find a courier standing there, smiling brightly. He managed a half-hearted smirk in return as he handed over the package, signed the necessary paperwork, and watched as the courier carried the box to his vehicle. Reuben peered through the small window next to the front door, following the courier’s movements until he drove away, taking the box — and Reuben’s hopes — with him.

The deed was done. The bottle had been filled and sent back, and now all Reuben could do was wait for Zeke’s response…if there would be one at all. Deep down, he wasn’t counting on ever hearing back from Lab 305 again.