Time alone mended the wounds of my mind and a quiet moment of recall was all needed to understood my error. As a sorcerous master I was upon the verge of joining a cabal of others, whose vaunted ranks dedicated to help guide the mystically inclined within Paragon City. My tutelage garnished me with great power over stone and this mastery my qualifying token. The High Council was to be my opus were it not for darkness that descended upon me with such fury.
My wife was stuck by illness that few could identify and fewer could name. A wasting malady capable of terrifying haste. In my anguish I sought answers, a means to use my power and save one life. A path so foolish that even now I shudder at the consequences.
The Malleus Mundi is known in many circles arcane and otherwise. It’s pages rumored to hold secrets that would unmake reality or grant godhood, the very stuff of myth among legendary beings. On select days of the year the book appears in the city and the brave, daring and insane all clamor to find it, to hold it for just long enough that a single wish might be granted. Pages tear from it, scattered by some impish forces, and offer a tantalizing taste of the power the completed manuscript might hold.
A single page is all it took for my plan to unfold. The incantation seemed simple, though it would be dangerous. Power beyond the ken of many in my field for sure, but I had to try. I would steal a measure of time from a stone, a simple century of it’s rigid existence. A gift to my wife who lay with but a handful of days remaining..
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