Once we were the Magician child; learning to crawl, walk, run.
Though the Magician has come far in skill and art; the chains that bind us to worlds within worlds grind in opposite directions. Its rust taint our blood and heart, leaving chambers once pure with charity stained and clogged.
To serve the lord of the world we sold our soul; to find that all we ever wanted have turned to dust. All we have learned are but rituals practiced in ignorance; bringing us deeper into the underworld of the god we serve.
The Magician is the child trapped in a world of one's own making.
