He was born with a defect he could not change. He was different and could never be like other boys, other men, other people. His disfigurement eventually drove him from his family, from the village and out into the world as a troubadour, a teller-of-tales … well, more precisely, a listener-of-tales. In solitude, with his trusty horse, he found a softer world without sniggers and demands and a world of peace and the silent whisperings of his soul. However, the solitude never lasted for long. The more he searched for that softer world, the more the sharp and abrasive one encroached upon him … till, one day, he met someone he didn’t want to turn away, someone who yearned for the disfigurement he had …

In a world that demands conformity, he was lost. Shunned by a society that cared not, he wandered - not lost but lonely and curious - till he found talents he couldn’t express in constriction. In freedom, his true self arose, along with connection with the same-hearted ones. A tale of long ago for those confused today.