Work Text:
He’d found the odd little box on the streets, dented a little, but holding up well for something that had presumably fallen or been tossed from the upper levels. It was a pretty thing, well made but not flashy, and a lovely shade of blue.
Unfortunately, nothing rattled when he shook it, and all efforts at trying to pry it open failed. He would have given up and sold the thing, but something about it pulled at him, like it would open if he could just reach out and touch it with his mind.
But that, of course, was absurd.