The ocean sings to me. The deserts, the wind, the rivers whisper to my soul. The mountains and forests beckon to me, but they are not my masters. I embrace the fire above all else. Starfire and kindling, candlelight and infernos. I am not a disciple of fire – I am the fire. I am wings of flame and sparks on the wind, dampened only by the bitter winter rain and the coldness of an empty universe. I close my eyes and see blazing cascades and meadows of molten rock. I breathe deeply of the ash and char to refresh my spirit and subdue my elemental nature. I open my eyes and return to a far more serene place, the halcyon world of my physical home.
All bards have a story to tell. My tale is a bit different from most, but you must already know I am more than just a bard. Who am I? Don't you already know? I will be surprised if you haven't heard of me by one of my names. I see your curiosity dancing about the forward lean of your posture. If it's a story you want, then it's a story you will get. I've never been one to keep my mouth shut when there is an adventure to divulge. I suppose I ought to start at the beginning, because if you really wish to understand me, you need to know where I came from, for even lowly preludes can crescendo into sublime finales.