Parlartrix

Parlartrix was a wizard. Not the Grand Mage that Bob was and certainly not on par with Mad Max but at the same time a man-at-arms would never lay a sword or bullet in him.
He could amaze and stun you with card tricks and he really could see into the future. He kept it to himself because he knew that as soon as you say something about it you probably are going to change it. It’s just the nature of the thing called reality.
“Take a look at this,” said Foo Ling excitedly.
“Wow, that’s great...What is it?”
“A little thing I like to call self-contained controlled nuclear fission.”
“Not quite yet, Foo Ling.”
“No, it is, it is!”
“I know. What I mean is they aren’t ready yet.”
“Who?”
“Men. Mankind. People in general.”
“What a line a crap. You just don’t want me to look good.”
“Don’t get all offended.” Parlartrix spoke earnestly. “You have no idea. That black powder was bad enough.”
“Max thought it was a good idea.”
“Exactly.”
Foo Ling nodded dejectedly after a moment, but then he brightened suddenly. “Let’s give it to Max, he’ll have a great time with it.”
“Now, that’s a great idea.”
Max stuck it away somewhere after playing with it for a while and forgot about it.
Just as Foo Ling expected.
Parlartrix isn’t going to remind Max anytime soon.