Wizard's Arcana: The Dark Arts

A towering figure stands draped in flowing, tattered yellow robes, his face obscured by a delicate, threadbare veil. His form radiates a quiet, unsettling power, silhouetted against a backdrop of crumbling ruins under a dim, pale moon. The golden crown on his head is jagged and ancient, barely holding together, as if it, too, is decaying with time. Around him, the landscape is barren, shrouded in mist, with fragments of forgotten symbols etched into the ground. His presence feels heavy, as if reality itself bends under the weight of his existence, casting an eerie, melancholic atmosphere over the scene.