I am made of iron, and I hold all the wizard’s possessions. I hold men who have been turned to stone, and I hold a lady of wonderful beauty who does not speak or smile. The wizard keeps her for himself.
On the wizard’s command, the men froze. One was caught in the act of running away, another was brandishing a sword, and another was raising a piece of beef to his mouth that he will never eat.
Desolation surrounds me. Trees do not grow in this dismal place. The fields have gone brown. There is one river, but it does not flow and no fish live in it. No flowers blossom here, no birds sing. Yet the wizard crows, for he has everything under his control.