A figure walked silently through the Gwilikith Mountains, a pure black hooded cloak wrapped around him. His face was hidden beneath the hood, and no part of his body could be seen yet. He was humming softly and hauntingly to himself, a tune that would've risen the hairs of anyone nearby. After a moment, a pair of sky-blue hands pulled the hood back, revealing a perfectly warm face, as blue and soft as his hands. Two red marks ran from his neck to his cheeks, resembling flames in the oddest of ways.

He sat on a nearby rock, and one hand slid into his robes, pulling out a small silver flute, perfectly polished and almost hypnotizingly bright. He kissed the flute reverantly, and then brought it to his lips. "Old friend, we once made the grandest of tunes, for all to enjoy. Let us once more bring a touch of bliss to these children." He blew softly into it, a single and utterly pure note flowing forth. A vein in his forehead popped out, and a single droplet of sweat ran down his cheek.

Finally, his head rose, looking around him. He licked his lips, and pushed himself to his feet, standing upon the rock, holding his flute lazily in one hand. "Let us begin our duet, brother...." He blew into the flute once more, his fingers moving lazily across the holes. The tune floated through the air, twisting and twining with the wind as if alive and full of some divine intent. He cleared his throat softly, and then began to sing softly. It was a jaunty, loving tune, one that would've lifted the spirits of any listening, and brought a tear to the eyes of the more innocent.

"Forever I shall wait,
to feel once more your gaze.
Your light, it shines forever
Through the fear and the pain
It blinds me from all else.

Your face, its smile haunts me
And picks me up when I fall
I know you will never forget me,
For all the love we share
All we know, all we feel,
'Tis all a gift, from that grand heart.

Forever I have waited,
And the end of time has come
Your gaze, I still feel its warmth
Your face, it ever shines
And all we thought was gone
Sits before our feet,
Pure and whole.

This world, it fades and dies
The body may wither and fall
But all we know, all we feel
All these things I care of
Will wait for me in the end
As forever I wait for you....."

He sat once more on the rock, seeming emaciated and tired. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his body drenched in sweat. He seemed to have aged decades in the time of that one song, and yet a content look was plastered on his face. He spoke softly, his voice weak and hoarse, as if he had been inhaling smoke. "I may never truly adjust to that, but I may also never tire of it. Music is my life, and all I am is song."