Legends of Belariath
Tarasque
There are many names for what I am. Goliard, gleewoman, bard, mistrel... In truth I am all and none of these things. I am a teller of tales and a singer of songs. Music is more then my profession it is my calling, my life's blood if you will. The drumming of wings in flight, the wolf's lonely cry, the crash of thunder... all these things sing to me, echoing the beat of my heart.
There is a restlessness that fills a bard's heart, a longing to capture the essence of what lies just beyond the herizon. Perhaps it is the same longing that drove the gypsies of old. Some siren's song drifting over the land beckoning in hushed tones those hearts that can not remain silent. Whatever it is it pushes me ever onward, drawing me like a moth to a flame.
It is this alone that drove me from Nanthalion's walls. The relentless hunger to find new songs to sing. It always finds me, lurking in the back of my mind until my feet find the path once more. Yet some things are stronger then even this. One face haunts my dreams bidding me return. One voice lingers in my ears drowning out all others.
It is the elf's song that sings through my veins a liquid fire. Chaos beckons my heart towards home and I am powerless to resist. They say a bard can not love, but I have found the line between love and lust a frail thing. Perhaps what they say is wrong. Either way I have answered the call and stand once more upon the borders of Nanthalion... upon the borders of a dream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Many months have passed since I wrote those words and the elf's song has grown dim. The chaos that once beckoned so strongly is now all but lost to memory. Strange how time can change so many things.... and yet not touch so many others.
I have learned one truth as the days following my return streched on. A bard can love. Or at least this one can... though such love comes with a heavy price. My heart is lost to a blue angel. An angel as fleeting as the winds that carry him... Still when dreams come it is blue feathers that dance across my mind. How fitting that I should tie my heartstrings to one I can not hold.
I have tried to drowd out the memory of his touch.. the feel of his lips pressed to mine... But no such relief will come to me. Try as I might to fill my bed its pleasures grow cold and empty. I must find a way to rid myself of this love before it destroys me. Ah how cruel is Fate in her irony... though my heart breaks and my soul drowns in despair my art has never been better. The songs come to me now sorrowing sweet. Though I sing only for myself their words are captured and given to the masses. Thus my songs shall live on in the hearts of others.
Nanthalion has been kind to me for I have done well here. By plying my skill as a poet with the town's paper I have gained the means to buy a cabin and secure a comfortable if somewhat lonely living. My art flurishes, I have a warm place to sleep and food in my stomach.... So what if love escapes me. A girl can't have everything....
"