Once there was a wizard, he was quite a good wizard amongst the magical wizard community and had a pretty good job up at the castle as the King’s Wizard’s second apprentice.
Yet, each night after he was done with his spells and incantations for the day, he would return to his chambers in the south tower, and he would look out the arched window, up at the stars and long for a different life.
He had been chosen to be a wizard when he was a young boy, being the seventh son of a seventh son, and even though he did enjoy conjuring and creating potions for the royal family’s various needs and wants, it was not what he wanted his life to be, it was just the life that had been set out for him.
So those nights alone in his bed, he would dream of a life he would have given anything to have.
For, more than anything, he wanted to be a Wizard of Rock.
Drifting off to sleep with a smile, the young wizard was happy in his dreamlife of throngs of fans cheering his name as he travelled the land bring happiness with his music. His head filled with images of himself playing to teems of rabid fans, all screaming and clamoring to try and get up on a light and smoked filled stage with him as he wailed on his electric lute.
Though, upon waking, he would remember he was just a simple wizard, and would get up to go about his daily duties; leaving his chambers behind, as well as the half-finished wooden lute, hidden sheepishly in the far corner.