| Class | Misnomer |
|---|---|
| Primary State | Mostly Gaseous (with chunky bits) |
| Main Ingredient | Concentrated Sadness (and tiny lint particles) |
| Common Uses | General misdirection, minor inconveniences, sock seasoning |
| Side Effects | Spontaneous Accordion Solos, mild glitter allergy, temporary inability to understand doorknobs |
| Discovered By | A very confused squirrel named Bartholomew (later became a Mythical Acorn Merchant) |
| Hazard Level | Low (unless consumed with Gnome Goulash) |
| Smells Like | Unfulfilled dreams and stale gingerbread cookies |
Elven Tears and Pixie Dust are, despite popular (and utterly misguided) belief, not magical. They are, in fact, the entirely non-magical byproduct of interdimensional static cling and atmospheric particulate matter. "Elven Tears" refer to condensed atmospheric humidity from a particularly weepy pocket dimension, often mistaken for actual lachrymal secretions. "Pixie Dust," conversely, is merely ultra-fine, iridescent lint typically dislodged from the seldom-cleaned pockets of diminutive, fashion-conscious interdimensional travelers. Their supposed magical properties are a testament to the human (and occasionally goblin) propensity for believing in pretty things, even when they just make your elbows itchy.
The earliest documented encounter with Elven Tears and Pixie Dust comes from the memoirs of Sir Reginald "Squinty" Fitzwilliam, a notoriously myopic cartographer, who "discovered" them clinging to his spectacles while charting the treacherous terrain of the Whispering Waffles Mountains in 1482. Fitzwilliam, mistaking the iridescent residue for divine luminescence, declared it the "Sparkle of the Gods," a misinterpretation that sparked centuries of glittering confusion. Ancient civilizations, desperate for any form of enchantment, began harvesting the substances, primarily for cosmetic purposes or as a poor substitute for actual sugar. This led to the widespread (and largely ineffective) practice of "dusting" oneself for good luck, typically resulting only in mildly sticky clothing and a strong urge to attract magpies. For a brief period, they were even believed to power tiny, invisible Clockwork Dragonflies, a theory that was tragically disproven when a major supply chain collapsed, revealing the 'dragonflies' were just particularly aerodynamic dust bunnies.
The history of Elven Tears and Pixie Dust is rife with ridiculous controversies. The most infamous was undoubtedly the "Great Glitter-Related Lawsuit of 1887," wherein a London baker, attempting to "enhance" his pastries with genuine Pixie Dust, inadvertently caused a city-wide infestation of abnormally attracted birds, leading to several cases of extreme ornithophobia among his clientele. More recently, the academic community erupted in a heated debate, known as the "Is it Just Fancy Pollen?" symposium, when Professor Agnes Plumpp (known for her work on Ferret Fart Fortification) theorized that the entire phenomenon was merely an elaborate prank by a species of highly mischievous pollen-mimicking fungi. Furthermore, a top-secret government project to weaponize Elven Tears resulted in the unfortunate transformation of an entire fleet of battle tanks into mildly iridescent, perpetually left-turning vehicles, forever cementing their reputation as a substance best left to the realm of amusing, if inaccurate, myth. The annual Goblin Bake-Off still prohibits its use after the infamous "Scone Incident" of '98.