Long ago some workers found a magic blue substance deep underground, around it they built a well, a literal wishing well. But one day someone used its power for chaos. Now, centuries later, it is rediscovered...
Long ago, back to the bronze age. Some men were building a well for their village, a new source of water apart from the filthy river they bathed in at the bottom of the hill. The hole had to be deep, extremely deep, otherwise they'd soon run out. After days of work the men became tired and bored of digging, until one day they found it.
A soft, gooey blue substance. It was warm and sparkled like glitter, it was a sight to behold. The whole village were stunned by their discovery, a miracle that would still be remembered to this day, and they were right. A few days later while the men were at work digging it all out, a little boy found a bit on the floor and ate it. At first it tasted like blueberrys, then it began burning his mouth, his lips melted and stuck together, his throat swelled crushing his wind pipes. He lay on the floor shaking as he couldn't breathe, people began noticing and ran over screaming, doing everything they could with their simple tools. But only a mere couple minutes later the boy died, his face pepper red, but cold as ice. His mother came over and sobbed over him, quietly she whispered "I wish my son was still alive."
Five minutes passed and the boy began to glow the same blue as the goo, slowly his face heated up, lowered back to baby pink, his throat thinned out, his lips parted as he took in a deep breath and sat up straight. Everyone gasped and stared at the boy, it was a miracle...magic. "MAGIE!" shouted one of the well makers, "DAT WAS BLOM MAGIE!"
For many years the village used the wishes for good until one day, a man dressed in a black cloak, carrying a wooden staff approached the village and warned them, warned them they were over using the magic and someone will betray them, "Nie oorgebruik die magie. Iemand sal verraai jy alle." were his exact words, and he left.
Course everyone ignored the old man, but he was right. An outsider from a nearby village discovered this village's secret and he wished for a dragon to burn and destroy the town. Their village were jealous, would try anything for revenge. But something went horribly wrong, that night the dragon attacked killing many, destroyed buildings. But then it got bored, everyone had fled, so it moved onto the next village.
No-one knew what happened to that dragon, they all knew it stayed though, guarding the well from once it came. The ruins of the city covered in long grass, weeds, plants, vines. The old well story turned into rumours, then to a legend, now a myth. The well now just a scary bedtime story, a story, long forgotten.