Every since she was born, Holi had been surrounded by people forcing the words 'magic' and 'faith' on her. Christmas Magic, especially. Snow Fairies, Santa Claus, the NUTCRACKER.

Hell, she had an most of a book shelf in her room dedicated to nutcrackers. Her mother had bought them for her, one for each year of her life. Boy nutcrackers, Girl nutcrackers, Old nutcrackers, Young Nutcrackers, ANIMAL nutcrackers.... all kinds, from the simple to the elaborate. One of them was even covered in traces of gold Wire and semi precious stones. It was probably the most elaborate and ugliest ballerina she'd ever seen. It was supposed to be her as a dancer. The horrible flapping jaw and the big heavy painted lips used to give her nightmares. She'd never told anyone that. It had been her thirteenth birthday present.

She hadn't told anyone either that she didn't have much faith in the idea of waiting for a magical prince to come and sweep her away on a magical sleigh. That seemed to be her mothers dream, and she wasn't sure her father, a patient, loving, and often traveling middle ranking business man had ever entirely filled that dream for her mother.

Her mother had never been rich growing up, and the idea of being a princess had burned in her as an perfect, unobtainable dream. Her father still tried to fill the void, he brought them back beautiful things every time he came home. Jewels for her mother, whatever he could afford, and for many years it had been similar things for Holi. Pretty, rich colored stones in silver and gold.

When she was seven, her father had brought her something entirely different. He'd gotten back barely in time for her birthday, and she'd been excited when he handed her a gift. He always made sure his birthday gifts for her didn't go under the tree, he handed them to her himself, and it always made them extra special. She'd been anticipating a lot, the largish box could have contained a necklace. Maybe pearls.... maybe a real diamond. Something to show up that obnoxious girl in the next row at school.

She'd actually been disappointed when she'd unwrapped it. She remembered it clearly. Her face had fallen, visibly, and that she suspected was what had prompted her tired, jet lagged father to slide out of his chair and sit cross legged on the floor with her, and put his arm around her shoulders. She could still almost smell the way his bathrobe smelled, like breakfast and pine needles, and the way the box felt, and smelled. A bright red box with a number of bars in bright, sparkling red foil. Marzipan from Germany, wrapped in dark chocolate. A very adult chocolate selection for a little girl who'd been hoping for a diamond.

"Holi, my sweet." He'd said under his breath, as her mother slipped out to make some more coffee. "I know you don't beleive in magic the way your mother does. I kind of wish you did, but...." he took the box from her and opened it, peeling open an end of one of the bars and breaking part of it off. "I thought I'd try and find the closest tangible evidence I could. They make this in Germany. They're a famous store there. People line up down the street for a piece of their marzipan cake."

She took it from him with trepidation, and took a cautious, uncertain bite, not sure where he was going with this conversation, but it was chocolate before breakfast. It tasted surprisingly mild, subtle with almonds and sugar, and the slight bite of dark chocolate, which cracked under pressure, the way the smooth marzipan didn't. It was... it was really good chocolate. Really good. Better than anything she'd eaten.

"It's like a little taste of real magic." Her father explained.

She could still almost taste it, and sighed as she smoothed out the soup wrappers she'd collected and stacked at the end of her bed, writing with an pen whose age she could only guess at (thankfully she'd learned how to use a real fountain pen from her grandmother) and ink she'd had to reconstitute with water.

Dear Dad:

-I know you're worried, but right now, everything's alright. I hope it stays that way so I can tell you all about this myself. Remember the first time you brought me chocolate? I bet you definitely remember the first time I tried to make you some. It took us a week to get it out of from the heating register.

Anyway... I wanted to tell you. I saw real magic for the first time since you brought me those candy bars....