Magica - The Story Lyrics - Magica - Dio

It has been a thousand years since the once powerful 

planet of Blessing lost its life-giving two suns, and 

countless millennia since the days of the great 

magicians. An expedition of alien voyagers came upon 

the now ice-covered sphere, drawn there by an 

unexplained lone beacon far below the miles of frozen 

moisture, they unlocked a written history of Blessing 

from its almost undiscovered tomb. So begins the story 

of Magica. 

It was a time of celebration. The Book of Magica and 

the wizards who had used its spells so wisely for the 

good of the people were being honored in all the great 

cities of the world. There was however an exception. 

Where good thrives, evil survives and evil has plans 

for survival. 

The celebration of thanks and prosperity would signal 

the forces of Evilsyde to begin the attack and 

ultimate capture and destruction of Magica. The spells 

from the Book would be used to turn all of those 

unwilling to join Evilsyde into statues of stone and 

send their spirits to Otherworld, where they would 

eventually be assimilated into the energy needed to 

drive Evilsyde, and maintain its power without the 

necessity of the Book and its incantations forever. 

Defenses were naturally relaxed during the festive 

preparations and although the battle was well-fought 

by both factions, the minions of the dark prevailed. 

Their assault was well-planned and executed to a 

fault. After overwhelming their initial opposition, 

they pushed on to the sacred ground upon which the 

Book of Magica rested. They possessed a much weaker 

form of magic themselves, and although it would be 

normally quite useless against the strength of Magica, 

the inability of the Wizards to gather themselves 

together in time, coupled with the perfect timing and 

determination of the attackers, spelled doom for the 

Book and its followers. 

The leader of the insurrection was the high priest and 

executioner known as Shadowcast. His presence could 

make the naughtiest of children become obedient and 

inspire great fear among the adult population. This 

man, most vile, would now be ruler of all and 

answerable to none. His reign would plunge Blessing 

into eternal darkness and prepare the way for the 

coming of his master, Astoroth, the Grand Duke of Hell. 

The capture of Magica did not, however, mean that 

Shadowcast had finally reached his goal. He must now 

find and conquer Blessing's Grand Wizard and legendary 

hero, Eriel. Eriel, who defeated Evilsyde time and 

again with his understanding and use of Magica's 

spells. He would be the last stumbling block of total 

domination. 

Eriel had removed himself from the general population 

in anticipation of everlasting peace and now he 

devoted all of his energy to meditation and praise of 

his God. Lately though, he had been visited by many 

temptations in his dreams. Promises of pleasure, 

riches and power raced through his sleeping mind. All 

these lures had been placed there by Shadowcast, 

hoping to avoid confrontation between this dominant 

man and his own villainous forces. Eriel however had 

resisted these solicitations and was now warned of 

some impending danger. He managed to make his way to 

the sacred ground by cloaking his identity with simple 

spells, only to be discovered just before his attempt 

to rescue the Book of Magica, but not before he was 

able to memorize the most important of Magica's 

charms, The spell of Restoration. 

The ceremony of thanksgiving was now directed toward 

the transmission of spirits to Otherworld. One by one 

the good souls of Blessing were turned to stone and 

sent on to their grisly fate, until only the noble 

Eriel remained. The spectacle that followed was meant 

to degrade Eriel and raise the courage of the cowardly 

supplicants of Evilsyde, but true to his 

indominantable bearing, he promised to return and 

banish Evilsyde forever. Then he was gone. 

The horrors of Otherworld are now revealed to the 

masses huddled together for some small measure of 

comfort. First the adults were separated from their 

children amid cries and pleas for help. Next the old 

ones were taken away and assigned to a place very near 

the assimilation site. They were guarded by monstrous, 

misshapen denizens of this shrouded netherland, who 

constantly harangued the inmates with promises of pain 

and extermination. Intermittent bursts of flame shot 

up from jagged cracks in the ground, threatening to 

consume anyone in its path. Shrieks of torment could 

be heard piercing the murky atmosphere, further 

unnerving the petrified captives. Only one seemed 

unaffected by all the inflicted fear and turmoil. 

Eriel's strength and determination soon pacified the 

men and women with whom he was confined. When they all 

became more calm and subdued, he began to speak to 

them softly as an adult to his children. "Long ago you 

entrusted me to protect the Book of Magica and to be 

faithful to its special purpose. It must seem that I 

have failed you and condemned us all to oblivion, but 

fear not! This hell is only a test of your faith and 

resolve. The power of Magica did not vanish in fire. 

On the third day I will evoke the spell of 

Restoration. United we shall return to Blessing and, 

armed with the strength of Magica, we will be 

triumphant. Many will perish, but Magica and our souls 

cannot be restored until three days have passed. Take 

heart my friends. Victory awaits you." 

Even magic has its limitations and as Eriel explained 

to his flock, the spell could not be activated until a 

waiting period of at least three days. One third of 

the souls of Blessing would be melded into the 

Evilsyde collective before Eriel could be effective 

with the words of Restoration. 

The old ones were the first to go. Cries of 

encouragement and hope were shouted to the condemned 

as they trudged slowly to their fate. One by one they 

were thrown into the assimilation chamber where a 

blinding blue spark gave evidence of their demise. 

With each burst Eriel's heavy heart ached with guilt 

for his part in this slaughter of his charges. If only 

he had not become so complacent. He above 

all should never have let this tragedy transpire. 

In the compound holding the young adults, an 

insurrection of sorts was occurring. A boy of 

seventeen years called Challis was urging an uprising 

among his captured companions. Futile though it was, 

it earned Challis a place in the cell adjoining 

Eriel's. His rantings and ravings were soon quelled by 

Eriel's quiet urging and the two settled into serious 

conversation. Eriel knew his time of assimilation was 

near and only hoped it would not be scheduled before 

the three day waiting period for Restoration was 

ended. Shadowcast wanted to personally oversee Eriel's 

termination but couldn't abandon his duties on Blessing 

until all was secure.Would there be enough time? 

Eriel realized some of his own strong qualities in 

Challis and decided that this was an opportunity not 

to be lost. He instructed Challis to remove all anger 

from his mind and hate from his heart. Only the pure 

could receive and transmit this most important of 

spells. Convinced that this young man was ready, he 

joined with his spirit and gave him these words. 

"Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna," Words that would 

resurrect the masses if delivered correctly and in time. 

Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready 

for travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate. 

His journey through Otherworld was marked by what 

could pass for cheers, if they weren't shouted from 

the mouths of utterly inhuman shapes and forms. Upon 

his arrival he instructed the guards to take him 

straight to Eriel. Once there he announced with great 

satisfaction that he would personally supervise 

Eriel's execution in a matter of hours. Nearby, 

Challis loudly voiced his objection to this treatment 

of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and 

punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel's heart 

sank. Had he misjudged Challis and entrusted his 

people's future to a reckless youth? Eriel's mind 

wandered to his own younger days. He too had been 

restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these 

traits and become the adored leader of Blessing. He 

wondered if Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel 

himself had turned his back on the beautiful and 

innocent Annica. She was his intended from birth, but 

he couldn't let love for this saintly child cloud his 

duties to Blessing and the Book. 

One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel's 

hopes were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once 

again. But as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde's 

dark leader. Eriel was led away with head held high, 

but as he passed Challis he gave just the slightest 

nod. A gesture that wasn't lost on the youth. Eriel 

was then taken to the assimilation chamber and 

strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of 

the room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of 

resurrection or destruction. Shadowcast walked to 

Eriel, presumably to gloat one last time to his old 

nemesis. Eriel welcomed the time that would be wasted, 

but at the last moment Shadowcast seemed to reconsider 

and raised his arm in signal for the end to begin. The 

arm dropped and, with crackle and hiss, Eriel was no 

more. Shadowcast and his minions erupted with joy. 

Never again to be slaves. Now to be masters. 

Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had 

passed without time to summon the spell. Now only he 

could influence the future. He heard the rattling of 

armor and realized they were coming for him. Soon the 

guards appeared and dragged the struggling Challis 

from his confinement. One of his jailers struck him a 

mighty blow across the face and suddenly all his anger 

left him. He was sure of what he must do. Thunder 

starts from silence and he would be thunder. 

Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the 

cross. Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had 

any last thing to say before assimilation. Challis 

smiled and said he did. Then with an evil laugh, 

Shadowcast raised his arm and announced that his 

question was only a final killing joke. It was now or 

never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted out 

the spell: "Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna" and all 

hell actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk 

of Blessing were bathed in an incredible rush of 

light. Shadowcast and all his wicked throng writhed in 

agony in the darkness they were spawned from, as the 

fierce illumination sought them out and consumed each 

troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting frenzy. 

Shadowcast, hiding in the last black space to be 

found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward 

him. At the last moment he cloaked his body with his 

unpriestly robe and muttered what sounded like an oath 

as the light touched the cloth. The robe erupted into 

flame and then there was nothing. Surely Shadowcast 

was also consumed by fire! But that tale would not yet 

be told. Now as each remaining citizen of Blessing was 

transported instantly back to their home, they found 

themselves standing among thousands of recognizable 

stone statues. These monuments represented their 

fallen comrades and would ever be a lasting testament 

to the dangers of evil and the power of Magica. 

Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres 

brightened the night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow 

could be heard across the land long after the flames 

had sputtered and died. When the prolonged periods of 

grieving had ended, the citizens and their council 

directed attention to the task of anointing a new 

leader and protector of the restored Book of Magica. 

The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had 

resurrected the populace and the Book, but many 

questioned his youth and inexperience. 

The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached. 

The candidates were summoned to the sacred 

place. Eloquent speeches were made on behalf of them 

all. Only Challis lacked a champion and it seemed 

certain that he would be passed over. "Will anyone 

speak for the boy?" asked the council. The question 

was greeted by silence as the judges turned away to 

cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A 

handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with 

traces of gray, spoke: "Challis must be chosen. This 

is the secret I have carried with me for all these 

years. Although I was once rebuffed by my only true 

love, Eriel, our brief union produced the young man 

standing before you. Eriel was never to know that he 

had sired this free spirit, but he will live on 

through his son's achievements if you now find him 

worthy." So spoke Annica, mother of Challis. 

The decision was now reached quickly. Annica's 

revelation left little doubt in the minds of the 

councillors that Challis should indeed succeed his 

father. Evilsyde had been defeated, Shadowcast was 

hopefully destroyed, Challis had been chosen to lead 

his people and, despite the huge number of casualties, 

the old way of life began again. But, evil does not 

easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist 

in his attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing. 

Great battles would be fought. Brave heroes would rise 

to the occasion and legends were created. There was, 

of course, the unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when 

Challis... Ah! But that's another story! 

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