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.
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