Giacomo, the Wooden Wizard

In a land of quantum dreams
And runes all but forgotten,
There was a little wooden boy
Alone and misbegotten.

His skin was grafted tree bark.
His bones were made of sticks.
The Wizard who had made him
Had built him just for kicks.

He wasn’t meant to be much,
Just a simple little toy,
Not supposed to do much more
Than bring little children joy.

When the wood was sanded smooth
and lacquered to a glow,
The Wizard smiled at the doll
And named him Giacomo.

Having finished with his work.
The Wizard placed it on a shelf,
Snuffed out the light and went to bed,
Leaving Giacomo by himself.

But the Wizard had neglected.
To put away his tools.
A common-made mistake
Of careless, reckless fools.

There were enchanted chisels.
Not put back upon their rack,
And a spellbound soldering iron
He’d forgotten to put back.

An old Hue Master’s hammer
Had been left out on the table.
Beside an open can of varnish
With a warning on the label.

Some unicorn-horn screws.
Were strewn about in piles,
And he hadn’t put away
His fairy-dust encrusted files.

So late that night when it was dark,
The Wizard snoring in his room,
The magic iron caused a spark
And then there was a—

BOOM!

The varnish fumes had filled the air
And combusted mightily.
The poor Wizard, he was crushed
Underneath all the debris.

That’s how the Wizard’s story ends,
Tis unfortunate and tragic.
But here’s the silver lining:
Giacomo absorbed his magic…

The blast had shattered every tool
Along with each one’s incantation,
Their energies imbued upon
The Wizard’s last creation.

This tragic, magic accident
Had made the wooden boy much more
Than the old man who had made him
Had ever meant him for.

No longer just a simple doll,
No longer just a toy,
Giacomo had been transformed
Into a living wooden boy!

He crawled out of the rubble
And he gazed up at the moon.
He listened to the crickets
And the chirpings of a loon.

He marveled at the sights and sounds,
He was thrilled by everything.
But best of all was knowing
He could now be anything.

Then he walked off down the road,
All alone but never glum,
For he was too excited
To decide who to become.

That’s the first of many tales
In the lore of Giacomo;
A long and storied life he led,
On many adventures he did go.

How he came to be an Aeromancer?
How he met his monkey friend?
Those are stories for another day,
But today, this is—

THE END

Entered by: 0x5920…826A and preserved on chain (see transaction)