IX. never sigh for better world; it's already composed, played, and told

Many years ago, he learned to accept things the way they are. Some aspects of life are carven in stone, he knows, and those who refuse to accept them are either dreamers or fools.

Therefore, he sits alone in disgrace, in exile, but not often in despair. The music he hears in his mind is the tidings from a different world, mingled with the madness of his own. He need never see this outside world for already it dances in his head, a phantasm even unto a phantom. What seem to be mere notes on a page to some are the greatest treasures to him. They provide him with solace and release from bitter truth; the music may very well shape his future.

Oh, but how he envies the dreamers.