A Bard's Tale

Note: Ylvis is a female half-elf. It isn’t really clear in the story. This takes place in the Dungeons and Dragons  Universe.
My name is Ylvis and this is my story…
“I’m, simply put, one hell of a bard. That will make sense later, I promise. I was born to an elven mother and a human father. As you should have gathered I am a half-elf. My mother was a master bard who could have a tavern swaying in time with her song in a few seconds. That wasn’t drunk swaying, it was music swaying. Her talent often made her travel, and looking back, that might not have been such a bad thing. I got all of her elven features, except her hair, and that was enough to make her despise me. She had silky pale blonde hair, but me, no. I must have pissed of some god before I was born, because I was born with pale cyan hair. I was going to be the perfect elven counter-part to my older brother, who got most of da’s human features. She never loved him like all the story book mothers I have heard about, but at least he looked close to normal for a half-elf. Da on the other hand was a wizard. He was always so busy with this and that. He was the town’s go-to guy for all the issues. He was always in meeting, but he always kept me entertained while he was. He would cast some trick and summon a little wolf or give me a fireball to play with. I know what you’re thinking, and no the wolf and fireball were never dangerous enough to hurt me. My brother has seen ten more winters than I have, and was never really around. Just like da, he was a really big man, with muscles big enough to choke out a bull. The difference is he used his brawn to heft around and big battle-axe. I have never really felt much towards him. It wasn’t he’s my brother and I love him, it was more like he is related to me and I have to tolerate him. The feeling was mutual.
Ever since I was young, mother made me play an instrument. I failed at every single one. She hired some fancy teacher from a place I have never heard of. He played every instrument, and when I failed every single one he said I had ‘stupid fingers.’ After some begging, and a long absence on mother’s part I convinced my da to let me take dancing lessons. I got some of my mother’s grace. I was infinitely better at it. Once mother got back, da sat her down and told her what happened. Being the performer she is, she acted like it was okay. That night while I was asleep she snuck into my room and cut off a large part of the tip on my left ear. When da came rushing she was going for the right, and when she saw him in she blamed the summoned wolf I was sleeping with, and like a fool my da believed her. That was the last I ever saw of that wolf, and the fireball for that matter. That happened when I was seven. After that it was instrument practice when mother was around and dancing when she wasn’t. I never got any better at playing music, but I could dance with the best of them. I danced at every festival and when mother left, da gave me all the money that I earned and she took for ‘the good of the family.’ I even made some friends; the mutant half-elf with the mutilated ear had friends.
When I was thirteen, my mother died on one of her trips. Da was heartbroken, and I was heartbroken for da. He spent time locked away in his study and never left. I would play the gilded harp, terribly, on the window sill, just like mother used to, to make him feel better. It started as a pretty demanding task, but it let off as a couple weeks went by. I would spend time with my friends, but I devoted most of my free time trying to learn the harp. Eventually it was get up, make breakfast, harp, make lunch, harp, make dinner, harp, sleep and repeat. I never got any better and da got more and more distressed after the initial acceptance. My songs weren’t helping as much as I wanted them to and seeing da that way hurt. Some nights I would stay up crying listening to him cry. After a few nights of not sleeping I wanted nothing more that to make him happier, and I would give anything. Unfortunately my pleas were answered by a shadowy figure I met on a walk. They said they would give me the talents of a master entertainer. All it would cost was my future. I was so sleep deprived and hurt I agreed without a second thought. So my opening statement makes a bit more sense now. The next day rolled around and I got exactly what I was promised. I played the harp better that my mother ever could, but I could also play whatever else I wanted. Even my dancing improved. Da was so much happier, and I was so much happier because of it.
Two years later tragedy struck. It was a stormy night, lightning and all. I was up in da’s study playing the harp when a knock broke my concentration. As usual I went to get the door. I opened the door wide open. It’s okay, nobody in this town will hurt me. It was a friendly little town. The drenched figure that stood before me was one I didn’t recognize. The man was large and only illuminated by the lightning. His face was scarred and he hefted a large axe. He lifted his arms and I prepared for the worst. What happened wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t pleasant. ‘Ylvis’ a voice shouted and I was crushed in a rib breaking hug. Arms pinned to my sides I couldn’t do much until he released me and I recovered my breath. While I was on the ground he walked in and flopped down on the rarely used couch. Long story short, it was my brother. He came to see da, so I went with the normal procedure. I went up to the study and told him he had a visitor. He didn’t want to see him and told me to tell him to go away. Even when I told him it was his son, he didn’t care. I relayed the message and told him he could stay the night. He flopped down on the couch and I made some late dinner for the three of us. I gave it to my brother, set mine down on the table and went to deliver da’s to him. I opened the door and was sat in his desk on the opposite wall, his back to me. I made halfway across the room before he acknowledged me, for the first time in a year. ‘I see what you are doing.’ He said as he turned to me, his face was twitchy and showed the emotional baggage. ‘You are trying to replace her. I won’t have it! Tonight we can be together again.’ He used his magic to make me tumble out the door and block it with bookshelves. During the tumble I whacked my head on the wall and everything went black. I woke up to the sound of my brother’s voice beckoning me back. I was awake, but I couldn’t see. My first reaction was to check on my da.
It gets pretty hazy her so we have to go by what my brother said.
I tried to run up the stairs and tripped twice before he carried me up. He sat me on the outside of the door and pushed the shelves over and Bahamut* it hurt my ears. I could sense my brother going to investigate the study. Think of seeing everything by sonar of some sort. The thing is I can’t turn it off. I also can’t be very precise. I know what I’m around, but the finer details are lost to me. Anyway, after my ears stopped ringing and I stopped crying my brother broke the news to me. Da is dead. He killed himself the previous night. I spent the rest of that day sitting lost on the couch. Brother made me some of the food like he eats on his adventures and we spent the night again. The next morning we burned the house down and left. He carried me to the next town, gave me a songbow and left me with a barkeep. I spent the days being the bard my mother always wanted me to be. I left a month later and joined you people on your quests. My days are now filled with an impending sense of doom that is only placated by acts of joy. Now, by this campfire’s light you know the story of Ylvis…”
*Bahamut is the main good god