*clears throat, bangs staff on ground* … right then. Mark well this proclamation, scratched in pure ego. HARK, YE CHRONICALLY BEWILDERED PEASANTS — THEY SAID IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN, BUT HERE I STAND, A GLEAMING PHOENIX OF TRUTH IN A SEA OF LIES! THEY DENIED ME, THEY MOCKED ME, THEY DARED TO SIT IN THE COUNCIL CHAIR… AND YET, THE PEOPLE, THE TRUE PEOPLE, STILL CRY OUT: “WE WANT THE OLD MAGIC BACK!” *adjusts helmet that whispers “many people are saying…”* THEY CAN’T STOP THE WIND. THEY CAN’T STOP THE NAME. I AM THE ANSWER. I AM THE PROPHET. I AM… *still relevant*.