Note: I'm not sure if it's alright to post fiction, but i'll do it anyway. If it isn't allowed or is discouraged, please - let me know so i can take this down. Anyway, here's a piece of fiction I wrote with some fantasy and science fiction elements. (And actual - albeit twisted - physics concepts)

How It All Began

"Don't you ever think about it?" asked Professor Diggory Berker, as he stood tinkering with his latest invention. "How it all began?"
"Everyone knows the chicken came first," said his student and assistant, Alfred Slurr.
"No, no. How it all began." said Berker, tightening a nut. "You know, life."
"...Chicken?"

Diggory Berker, Professor of Applied Magic, sighed, put down his wrench, and sat down on a stool. He massaged his temples, which didn't really ache, but he did it anyway out of habit. He was tired; he had been working on his latest and most promising invention for three straight days. It was revolutionary.

"What is that, anyway?" asked Slurr, pointing at the strange device.
"It's a Righ Thand Rule," said Berker with a flourish. Finally, the fool noticed. "It measures the direction of the force exerted by a magical field."
"A magical ruler?"
"In a sense, yes - more of a protractor, really."

Just then, the university bell started ringing, signaling the start of the evening classes which Alfred Slurr was (mostly) enrolled in. He hurriedly said good-bye, gave hastily concocted words of praise on the ingenuity of the professor's new invention, and left.

Berker sighed again, and slumped on the work table. Nobody ever really took him seriously, not in his ten years of employment in the Massachusetts Institute of Thaumaturgy[1]. He was a good teacher - brilliant, really - for he had a knack for the theoretical aspects of his field that was shamefully lacking in many of his colleagues.

For some reason, however, he was never able to apply his ideas on the workbench. Oftentimes, he'd get to work with something in mind only to come up something entirely different upon completion, inevitably at the cost of an entire section of the laboratory wing of the Applied Magic building. This was one of the reasons he was banned from any lab within the campus (and subsequently any lab within the country). The other reason was that he tended to nick from supply cabinets and storerooms the parts he used for his projects.

And that was why he worked inside a broom closet, Illogically expanding the interior to the size of a full-fledged laboratory, while keeping the exterior untouched. He also hired the cleaning services of one Alfred Slurr, a failing student, in return for passing grades.

He looked at the device (constructed of various doohickeys stolen from various supply cabinets and storerooms) and threw a wrench at it in his depression. He kicked over the table, toppling over the machine, kicked it across the room, and started for the door, limping for a sore toe and knocking over a shelf full of bottles of chemicals and his past inventions (that didn't explode, at least) on his way out.

Just then, right before he slammed the door behind him, there was a whirr.

_____

Berker hunched over the glowing mass of trash that was his former invention, and prodded it with a stick[2]. The chemicals he spilled must've reacted to produce a magical current, powering his supposedly broken machine.

... Could it be?

Berker took a peek at the rotating gimbal, which constituted the main output reading, and noted that the needle was pointing firmly away from him, with the secondary needle approximating the magnitude to be 300 kilomagi[3].

"Hello," said the transintercomplexomulti-dimensional-hyperquasiultrameta-being.

With that, Diggory Berker, Professor of Applied Magic, fainted.

_____

Diggory Berker woke with a groan. He could feel his hair eddying in the wind and decided that now would not be a good time to open his eyes. The being seemed to notice the man's consciousness, and spoke.

"Sorry, i took the liberty of taking you while you were knocked out. I'm in a bit of a hurry, see. I have an appointment at three-thirty."
"Where am I?"
"It depends on which context you speak of."
"Where am I sitting on?"
"What you are sitting on, Mr. Berker, is a magic carpet. My magic carpet."

Berker's eyes shot open in disbelief, threatened to close themselves again, but his curiosity got the best of him.

"Are you a..." his voice trailed off.
"Yes, I am a genie."
"Oh."

They sat there in silence, Purple giant and pinkish man, for a while.

"Where's the engine?" He asked, twisting around.
"Excuse me?"
"This carpet is violating the 2nd and 3rd laws of thaumodynamics and motion, respectively." He caught the genie's hurt look and hastily added: "Very impressive."
"Thank you," the genie said with a grin. "I bought it for a bargain."

More silence. Berker looked for the first time at his surroundings. They seemed to be in a vortex. It was a violent shade of purple, with splotches of yellow and green.

"So... Where are we going? And why am I here?"
"I'm here to grant your wish."
"What wish?"
"You wanted to know how life began, yes? And so we are going to the moment when life began."
"Well yeah, but you could've asked me what I really wished for," whined Berker
"I'm sorry, but I can't make you better with inventing things. You're hopeless."
"How about a while ago?"
"A fluke."
"Oh."

Even more silence.

"Well, here we are."

Berker heard a screech as the genie pressed his heel into the front of the carpet, and exited the purple vortex.

_____

The scenery was best described as bleak. The sky was dark with cumulonimbus clouds striking lightning at a distance. The sea was a disturbing shade of orange, bubbling on the surface, popping now and then, releasing a very salty smell. The land was... nonexistent.

"Well, I'll be seeing you around," said the genie, demonstrating very poor knowledge of human physiology by suddenly disappearing, and leaving a very shocked Diggory Berker to drown.

On his way into the abyss and unable to hold his breath anymore, Diggory Berker exhaled his last breath, took a lung full of primordial soup, and thought his last thought before finally expiring, releasing all the microbes in his body to the ocean, as the progenitors of life thereafter.

And as for his last thought, it was: "Tastes like chicken."




[1] Thaumaturgy is a fancy way of saying Magic
[2] It was his wand, really. He has this juvenile amusement at saying: "I have a big stick."
[3] The Magus is the SI unit for the density of the force of a magical field per cubic cm