The Kid was bored. He had nothing to do. All his pals were out playing, building better things/ He is stuck in his room, grounded by his father as a punishment for using magic in classroom.
Bah! The fools. They, and their reservations against using magic. What is the point in not using magic when you can? Dad always says to him "Not using magic is the key to learn to its proper uses" or "If you are not careful, the cosmos you will create shall be imperfect". They all said so. Why can't they agree with his argument that for building a perfect thing he should first practice? He can always correct the mistakes with a little magic. When he put forth his argument, Dad always shakes head and pulls a harder frown on his face.
None the less, today his curiosity or juvenile nature got better of him and he has used a little magic in the class. A small prank, was all. He merely reversed the entropy of one of the cosmos models on display and it started to shrink instead of expanding out. This pissed the teacher something awful and they sent a letter to his father. As a result, he was grounded. Dad would not listen to him even when he offered to undo his magic. He was in fact even more angered. "Irresponsible", he said in a disgusted tone. And then he was grounded.
The kid was bored. He had nothing to do. He began to pace his room. He thought of ways to avoid boredom. He thought of practicing the magic tricks he recently learnt. But they were too small and childish for him. He passed over the thought. He thought of pulling a prank. No good. There was no one to pull the prank on. He grew resentful and restless. He started searching the house for something interesting.
Then he suddenly found it.
It is a cache of that material which father never lets him touch. "Thou canst not use it before thine magic lessons are completeth" he would say.he had seen bits and pieces of the material sticking to the fingers of elder kids at school when they came out of laboratories. He knew that they apply the principles of magic to the material and learn how to create cosmos. But he never held the material himself.
The kid was fascinated. His lethargy vanished in an instant and he felt enthusiasm running through his being. He gingerly touched the material. He could not say what the material is. "Primordial" is the word father uses to describe it in revered tones.
The kid gingerly picked up a small chunk of matter. It was surprisingly heavy and light at the same time. On an intuition, the kid passes a little magic into it. The material pulsed and resonated with energy. Enthusiastically he threw it up and caught it with another hand.
A strange thought gripped him. He trembled with the desire to create a cosmos all by his own. He was not yet aware of all the principles of magic. Be he knew enough to create cosmos which is not disappointing to watch. It is not perfect. But it will be worth the try.
The kid concentrated and channelled magic into the material. Remembering all the principles he was taught, he willed the primordial matter to obey him. And then he threw the material into the middle of the room.
The result was a disappointment. The material started to grow out for a brief while. And then it stopped. It was not at all lustrous or colourful like the models he has seen at school. They were full of lights, twinkles, colourful gas columns of myriad shapes, sizes and densities. Most fascinating among them were the dark patches which let out light beams on either side of them. They move as if they are flirting with matter all around them. They were all beautiful to look. In contrast his cosmos was little more than a lump of matter.
The kid realized that something is wrong. His less then perfect knowledge created a less than perfect cosmos. He was humbled. But he did not give up. He decided to supply all the energy the matter needs to make it look as beautiful as a cosmos should be. He commanded more magic and willed it to flow into the matter.
This time the result was as delightful as it was surprising. The little clump of matter expanded exponentially. All the lights came up just as correctly. It was as beautiful as any model in the laboratory.
The kid was happy. Just as he was about to celebrate, he realized something wrong again. In many of the little twinkles, there were "things". They were in a way similar to him and many of the things were capable of thinking.
The kid now realized what father meant when he said "think of your cosmos before you create it". He could cut the magic flow into the cosmos and end it. But he somehow knew that all the "things" will be very unhappy about it. No matter what they agree or disagree, they all had overwhelming unity in saying that their cosmos should not be destroyed. They would rather live in an imperfect world.
The kid sighed. He hid his cosmos in the small corner of this room where he was sure father would never look into, and went to ask mother about dinner.
