by vigneashley
It looks a little like a sand frog, but its glass eyes are very, very realistic. And they'd better be. You got them off Amazon. Two for one. A Homunculus is a creature created by a wizard from his own blood and about two cups of European white flour. The recipe also calls for a sprig of rosemary, a bit of sage, and a pinch of salt. And also hair. It will do any chore you ask it to, provided it is physically capable. Soup? Sure. Sweeping? With the handheld broom, sure. It can mop and talk and, if it can climb up the bookcase, even dust up there. It'll balance your checkbook, do your dishes, and fetch a roll of TP if you run out. It is not sentient. At least, according to the texts. This story is a cozy exercise in modern wizardry. You've got a Homunculus that lives in your house--it's got to eat one bread roll every day or it will die. It explicitly denies that it has a soul and that it exists for anything but to serve you, but that's growing more doubtful by the day. If anything, this little fellow might be your new best friend. Follow this story for a cozy, semi-sweet, long-running tale about a food service worker who does wizardry in his spare time, and the little life he made.
