| | |
| T’was long before the discovery of Empyrea,
that the little wizard had appeared.
Before sun, star, moon, and shadow spells were uncovered,
and before Waterworks and Darkmoor gear.
The wizard was still a fledgling,
protected beneath the wings of her mother.
She waited patiently inside Bartleby’s trunk,
jealous of the others.
The little wizard declared,
“One day, I shall venture out into the spiral too.
And I shall return triumphantly,
draped in the robes of Krokotopia and the cowls of Mooshu.”
So close yet so far,
this goal was merely a bleak dream,
since something as simple as the Golem Tower
was considered even far too extreme.
In the past, wizards populated the Commons,
mounted on sparkling, gliding brooms,
but now, they're long forgotten
and buried away in some tomb.
Instead of clustering in the Bazaar,
eyeing rare reagents for crafting,
the wizards would gather at house parties
and spend the night playing and dancing.
A few years and a couple of hardships later,
the little wizard returned to the spiral.
Having had graduated from her nest,
she was ready to become the best disciple.
“To Firecat Alley, Cyclops Lane, and Grizzleheim I shall go!
I hope you’re prepared, Malistaire!
You will never conquer us wizards,
who will defeat you in your own lair!”
Though saving Wizard City alone
would take more than a couple days,
time wouldn’t be an issue,
when Dragonspyre was only a few worlds away.
But alas, the whole spiral seemed to have changed;
new worlds, spells, gear, and wizards,
they all seemed rather strange.
Time didn’t wait for her,
even while she was away.
This new world was too fast-paced,
and faintly tinted a somber gray.
While there was more to discover,
more to explore,
more to conquer,
and more to adore,
she only yearned for the past,
and nothing more.
| |
| | |
