Illustration for a story commissioned from DaLolf - seen here.

Yves felt a small, illicit thrill as he felt the tumbles unlock in Professor Albert’s door. He quietly slipped in, and let out a low whistle as he took in the ram’s collection. It wasn’t, perhaps, on the same grade of a museum collection, but there were two long rows of pristine artifacts, tastefully arranged on pedestals and properly labelled. They ranged from works of art and jewellery to weapons and amphorae, all relics of a dead empire.
The student almost crept in, as if he hadn’t been given permission to be here five minutes ago, and his quizzical eye drifted over every artifact until he came to an ornate amphora, standing taller than him. The circumference of the jar was adorned with figures of impossibly wide, muscular senators, draped in robes and togas, laid down on massive recliners as slaves, identified by their smaller size, fed them.
His nose twitched; there was an odd smell about the amphora. Not a bad smell, but it stood out. The plaque alongside the jar identified the piece as coming from the later part of Palamani history: not late enough to be part of the Dominion’s fall, but late enough that the empire was feeling the crunch of a Jidou water shortage. Later on, it was used for something else before getting lost in a basement for a millennia or so. Yves swore he recognized the faint smell wafting from the jar. Was it olive oil? No, it was too pungent for that. Wine?
Yves looked over his shoulder, just to make absolutely certain he was alone. He searched the amphora, and there, along the rim at the top, was a faint stain. Standing on his toes, he stretched further, and then quickly brought a chair over to peer into the amphora. He held out his hands, and flexed his fingers into a faintly coaxing gesture, until tendrils, like smoke coming off from burning embers, slowly drifted up into the palm of his hand. He frowned; he had the smell, but he couldn’t place it just yet. He held out his hand again, trying to recall the scent, but he over-reached; at the bottom of the ancient jar, a liquid was slowly bubbling up. He had summoned the long-lost contents of the amphora, and in a moment of panic, he forgot how to stop it. Trying to reach down, he lost his balance. The canine let out a small yelp as he felt the chair fall behind him, his legs dangling as he tried to right himself and keep the amphora from tipping over; he’d be a dead man if Professor Albert knew he broke such an expensive artifact.
Trying to find his balance, Yves felt himself slip further into the jar, the opening only just big enough for his soft middle, and he fell through.