The market streets were buzzing about with their typical day to day activities. Merchants shown their finest of materials, and tourists wandered about in bustling squares brimming with opportunity. Far off into a small corner of the activity, hidden away and forgotten by the excitement of the crowd, there lay an old food shop, it’s tattered orange and brown awning swayed whimsically in the light sea breeze. Under the awning, sitting at a tiny round table atop a small cushioned pillow, could be found a man. He wasn’t a remarkable man, no – in fact he looked quite average. Perhaps we was in his 60’s maybe early 70’s. A hardened serious demeanor overtook his complexion, but it was betrayed by a certain excitement in his eyes. A large graying goatee adorned his face, and wrinkles crawled around his skin like cracked concrete. He wore a peculiar garb, consistent of fine blues, and pale whites, that wrapped around him in an array of twists and turns. The man never spoke, he only watched. Frequents of the food shop, came to call him “The Miracle Man”, because it was seemingly a miracle that he could survive sitting on the same cushion all day long, without ever speaking a single word.
Over time rumor began to spread about “The Miracle Man”, people from all around gathered to the shop to see him day in and day out. He became a local legend, and even an asset to the continued health of the market. But still the strange man never spoke, never moved. He just sat at his round table, waiting, but for what nobody could understand. Every once in a long while he would change the facing of his head. Deeply breathing in the fresh morning sea air, he would allow his hand to wander to a small pouch sitting next to him. From the pouch, he would produce a small top, it’s intricately carved wooden markings would resonate with the hasty market square. The Miracle Man would then proceed to place the top gently on his round table, in a whirl of vigor, he would spin it once. But only once. Before just as quickly hiding it back away, resuming his typical routine.
This went on for a long time, a very long time. So long in fact that the towns people eventually lost their fascination with the old man. People began claiming him a fake, calling him names, saying that he was just a crazy man gone mad. But still the once Miracle man sat persistently, his strong will not allowing him to move, until his task was complete. Sometimes young children would walk up to him, attempting with all their might to get a reaction. Cruel words were said, punches thrown, but the old man wouldn’t budge, until eventually even the children forgot about him…
Then one day, after the exasperation had completely run out – the entire community having moved on to some new hot topic – something peculiar happened. A young girl, about 17 in age began frequenting the shop. She had moved to the town to start work as a chronologist, but even so she always felt she had another destiny to fulfill, something always felt like it was missing.
At first the young girl went unnoticed by the old man, he had grown accustomed to ignoring the likes of society. But one day The Miracle Man noticed something different about her. She seemed to resonate in a frequency other than anyone who had come before. He somehow knew she would understand. Sensing his task had finally been rewarded, the old man did something that he had never done past, he motioned for the girl to sit down on the other side of the small round table.
Long time patrons of the shop stared in awe. A bleak expression befell the girls face, she didn’t know what to do. The shop owner leaned over the counter and patted her on the back.
“Well aren’t yah gonna go over there? He called you over, never’s done that before'”
Suddenly the entire shop and surrounding market fell silent, everyone’s eyes glued to the man and the girl. The forgotten legend was once again reborn. Slowly, with hesitation the girl walked over to the small rickety table. She plopped down on an uncomfortable tattered cushion across from the man. In awkward silence he stared at her for what seemed like eons, and then, he smiled.
Allowing his hand to leave position one last time, the man reached into the pouch that lay to his side and produced yet again the same top he always had. However this time, oh was it different. Spectators watched in awe as the top sparkled with deep blues, it seemed to shimmer with the essence of dreams themselves. Carefully the man placed the small top in the middle of the table and gave it a calculated spin. It twirled around and around in a whimsical manner, it’s movement seemed unending.
As the top spun, the man once again looked the girl in her eyes. Smiling, he opened his mouth allowing his voice to trail out.
“Take it.” He muttered in a soft weary tone, “You are its owner now, may you find solace in its essence.” Slowly the man got up, his joints creaked and cracked as he stumbled to his feet. Wincing, members of the crowd tried to help him, but he pushed them away. Gathering his pouch, the old man slowly meandered his way from out of the square, the crowd that had now gathered parted to form a path for him. “Wait you’re just gonna leave?” Said one spectator. “What was the point in that now? You can’t just go?”
But the old man would speak no more, he would reveal no more. For his task was complete, and now it was her turn. Slowly he disappeared beyond the walls of the town, and wandered off into the distance until he completely blended in with the horizon.
The girl continued to stare in awe at the top, confused by the events that had just transpired. As she sat, most of the crowd slowly dispersed, until life in the market turned back to normal. Eventually the girl stood up and walked over to the shop owner, who had been impressed by the spectacle.
“Do you know what any of that was about?” She inquired.
“Naw sorry, got no idea, guys been sittin’ there for months, never spoke a single word. Somethin’ bout you must’ve struck a chord with him tho.” The shop owner began chuckling. “So you gonna try spinning the top?”
The girl stared at the carved top, which was now in her hand. It still shimmered in the soft shadows of the buildings and tents around. She wondered just what in the world the it was for. Why had the old man chosen her? Why did he smile like he did? Just who in the world was he?
For quite a while word on the street was that the mysterious man had spoken for the first time and then strangely disappeared. However as the weeks went by, the town eventually moved on and the old man, his top and the girl, were forgotten. The girl thought for a long while what to do with the mysterious top, she didn’t know if she should spin it or leave it be. For multiple weeks she continued on, and put the top and the mysterious man on the back burners. However many weeks later, after having a particularly rough day, she decided to finally explore what it could be.
She placed the ornate instrument on her coffee table, as she handled it, it again lit up in a vast array of colors. Glimmering in deep blues and reds, the site was awe inspiring. Slowly she picked up the small top, and gave it a faint twirl. Suddenly bright colors swirled all around. The girl found herself completely consumed by inspiration and awe. A new world revealed itself in front of her very eyes. Deep reds, blues, and oranges reveled all around her, as she saw sites she’d never before imagined. The world suddenly became clear, her place in life finally revealed itself. Now knowing what she had to do, the girl stood up, putting the top in her pocket. Never having cast a spell before, she proceeded to take a deep breath, clasp her hands together, and in an array of magical light she disappeared from the room.
Legacy Miracles is a deck that embodies the search for knowledge and inspiration. A Miracles mage will delve deep into the farthest reaches of their abilities in order to squeeze out an advantage. Utilizing the tool of the top, a Miracles user will search far and wide for solutions to almost any a problem. Harnessing the power of divine angles, and the camaraderie of stoic monks, a user is able to close out a battle quickly and efficiently, all while setting up a series of protective wards which stop the most potent of spells. The strategy of Miracles fully embodies a persistent search for inspiration and knowledge, and a desire for order. A powerful fire burns in all Miracles mage’s hearts, a fire to shape the world in their image, to mold the future into something that is safe for all. Patience is the name of the game, and a Miracles mage will try anything to slow down their opponents harsh advancement. Usually this involves deliberately countering all of their spells in one fell swoop. In all Miracles follows an intense thirst for knowledge, patiently waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Inspired by an intense deeply rooted passion, a Miracles mage will go to the ends of the earth to succeed at whatever goals they deem worthy.
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