Dhazam sat hunched over in his chair, his wrinkled hands resting on the top of his gnarled staff. The room was dimly lit by the flickering candles on the shelf, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Outside, the wind howled, and the rain lashed against the windows, as if trying to claw its way inside. Dhazam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his mind wandering back to a time long gone.
In the ancient land of magic, where the wizards once did roam,
There stood a city shining, like a diamond in the foam,
Its streets were paved with silver, and its towers touched the sky,
It was the home of magic, where the wizards would reside.
Oh Magica, the city of the wizards,
A place of wonder, and a land of blizzards,
But now you lay in ruins, and all your magic's gone,
Oh Magica, my dear old home.
The city was so beautiful, its light could be seen for miles,
Its people were so powerful, they could move the very tides,
And in the heart of Magica, lay a source of magic's might,
