Seventy years. That’s how long it had been since the last time Calliah had set foot this far into Elentári Woods. He wasn’t sure if he thought it had been too long, or not long enough. He was inside of the Emerald Gardens, a place where most people would get lost easily. He was a wood elf, however. Though it had been a long time, his mind was made to memorize paths and trails, marked or otherwise. He could not get lost here, even if it was what his heart desired. At the moment, however, that is not what he wanted.

   Calliah wasn’t sure what had brought him back to these woods. He had suffered much humiliation and pain within the boundaries of these trees. All of was at the hands of what was supposed to be his own kind. They ridiculed him, ignored him, hurt him, and for what? Because he could not touch the magic that they wielded so wantonly? He had not chosen that life. It found him, before he had even been birthed. The bitterness and the anger that he hid so well from the world rose to the surface easily here, where he was reminded so well of his past. Reminded him of the reason he left and hadn’t returned since.
   
   Calliah sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t doing him any good to bring back old memories. Chances were that his destination, the Minstrel’s Grove, would not be a place to have such things occur. Besides that, throughout his seventy years of travels, he learned that not everyone stayed the same, and that mistakes were easily made when in the presence of many others. A mob mentality, he had heard it called once. Long ago, he made a promise to himself not to judge one simply because of their race. He had suffered too much simply because he had been judged because of his ailment. He pushed down that bitterness and that anger and continued on, nearing the grove.
   
   Still, however, he could not completely ignore the feelings and reminders of a painful childhood that his homeland gave him. He would not visit this place again.

   
      Several minutes later…


   Calliah emerged from the forest line and entered the Minstrel’s Grove: a sight of harmony between the beauty of nature and the life of most of the races of Entar. The picture he captured in the first five seconds made him completely forget the silent promise he had just made to himself. His mind reeled wonderfully with a near overload of the senses: the smells, the sights, and the sounds. On all of Entar, there was nothing that could compare to the unbridled splendor of this combination. On the surface, it was pure bliss; a picture perfect world.

   When he heard the voice of a female on the other side of the brush, his mind was brought back to the world of the mundane. His promise was remembered, and, in his mind, he was sure he would not break it.

   “No, how could anyone want to leave this place?” the female voice said.

   Calliah had met hundreds of different people in his life, and had gotten to know how to read them. The way their body moved; the way they moved their eyes as they spoke; the way they spoke; even the way that they sat in silence. It was all an indication of their mood, and, sometimes, their intentions. Most of the time, the way that he read these people was accurate.

   This voice seemed easy to read. There was a longing in this voice. Something that was missed. Something that she wanted back.

   Forgetting about his past, and the bitter feelings that hid themselves deep underneath, he remembered what he had decided would be his true purpose in life. There was beauty in all things in Entar, and he was determined to bring them to the people who would, or could not see and hear them. He could see and hear things that others could not. It was his only gift in life, and he would use it as best he could.

   Sometimes this meant the drawings he had done of the world around him. Right now, however, this was the time to use that which came most naturally to him: his music. Though he would never say it, nor even hint at it, he was one of the best musicians that most people would ever hear. He had been told that his music brought emotion and beauty even to those who didn’t want to hear it. It brought to them the beauty that he saw in life. He hoped to bring that to people who needed to hear it around him now.

   And so, Calliah sat down quietly on the opposite side of the hedge and pulled the golden flute from his side. He closed his eyes, and slowly blocked out all noise around him. He listened to the nature of things with his heart, and his mind turned it to music. The world that was visible to him now became a harmony of sounds, flowing from the instrument he put to his lips.

   “Let them hear the beauty as I do,” he unconsciously projected the intentions of his thought to those who wished to hear the music.





OOC: The reason for that last line is because his music is based mostly in his skill, which is immense, but partially in mind magic as well, which he does not know.