You are fourteen years old. A curse has wiped out your family and left you blind. You wander through a forest of twisted trees, lamenting your fate and wishing that a wild animal would put an end to your life.

Then, you hear a melody. You follow the sound, you fall, you crawl forward... The sound stops, but you keep going out of sheer inertia, and suddenly your fingers touch a smooth wood, a curved shape, taut strings. You learn to play the harp under the tutelage of a strict master, and one day, when the weather improves, you set out to wander the roads.

Now you are a wandering musician. Your melodies draw people in. Bards accompany you, listen to you, and the most skilled among them manage to turn your melodies into songs. You get a wagon and make your way to the most remote villages to play as the days grow longer.

Years pass, the kingdom flourishes, and the bards carry your music to every corner, nurturing a legend around you. Before they begin to play, they often say that they learned the melody from a blind young man, and that he, in turn, learned it from the Lady of the Forest herself. Many believe it, many doubt it; some think you are cursed, and others believe you have received the greatest gift of all.

You are now an old man, recognized and valued in every place you go. It is said that celebrations do not begin without you. Then you receive an invitation to play before the king and his court. You prepare diligently and set out on your journey north, to the kingdom's capital.