In the heart of Ilya City where the magic runs wild,
There's a mage with a fire burning fierce and untamed,
With spells that ignite like a thunderous blaze,
But the path she walks is shrouded in shade.

She's drawn to the whispers of power and might,
Caught in the crossfire of wrong versus right,
But the choice she makes will ignite the fight,
In the depths of her soul, where the darkness bites.

Oh, mage of Ilya, with your power so bright,
Caught in the turmoil of wrong versus right,
But in the rhythm of magic, in the pulse of the night,
Will you choose the path of power or the path of light?

Through the arcane alleys where shadows dance,
She battles with demons in a twisted romance,
With every incantation, she feels the pull,
Of the darkness that beckons, relentless and cruel.

She's caught in the storm of ambition's call,
But the price of power could be her downfall,
In the clash of desires, will she stand tall,
Or succumb to the darkness and lose it all?

Oh, mage of Ilya, with your power so bright,
Caught in the turmoil of wrong versus right,
But in the rhythm of magic, in the pulse of the night,
Will you choose the path of power or the path of light?

With every spell cast, she feels the surge,
But the line between good and evil blurs,
In the chaos of battle, will she emerge,
As a beacon of hope or a harbinger of curse?

Oh, mage of Ilya, with your power so bright,
Caught in the turmoil of wrong versus right,
But in the rhythm of magic, in the pulse of the night,
Will you choose the path of power or the path of light?

In the echoes of Ilya, where the magic resides,
The fate of the mage will soon decide,
Will she rise above or be consumed by the tide,
Of power's allure or the call of the guide?