Jackrum lifted up his sword and balanced it over the palm of his other hand. "Y'know, there's a story we like to tell in my homeland about the instrument my weapon is named after. The instruments are each called a "Voice of Sinclaire." This is how the story goes:
Long ago, before Glacia was ever formed, there lived a small village in the frozen wastelands. But just like the most beautiful of roses appear in the harshest of deserts, there was a young woman named Sinclaire, who was the most beautiful woman in the world. Hers also was a voice that could even charm the most stone hearted of demons. However, she was engaged to a young man named Eneru. Eneru was a warrior who was like a bolt of lightning on the battlefield,invincible and deadly to all who came near. Through many valorous feats, he managed to win the lovely Sinclaire over. Every night, he would steal up to her bedroom window and visit her, leaving her with a kiss and a promise that he would return the next night. However,'an evil wizard had also heard Sinclaire sing and decided to spirit her away for himself. On the day of his wedding, Enwru returned to find his bride, but found no-one when he knocked on the window, and saw only a fragment of her mantle that had ripped off on the sill. Eneru wandered the tundra for weeks, uncaring for food or water and unhindered by the beasts of the wastes. Eneru was about to impale himself on his sword, when he heard a voice faint on the breeze, like a hope that would shatter under a heavy gaze. Eneru followed the song to a tower, and saw his beloved fiancee! He wept for joy as he rushed up the tower, caring not for his life but only caring about her, cutting down all bodies in the way like feathers before a blizzard. He impaled the wizard after 3 days of mortal combat and held his beloved. But as the wizard drew his last breath, he uttered a death curse: a curse infused with the lifeblood of a man, inexhorable as Death himself. 'If I can't have her, no-one can!' the wizard yelled. 'Woman! I curse you to fade away and to never be heard again! Warrior!' He chuckled evilly, 'Prove thyself. Thou shalt constantly enter the fray, ne'er pausing for breath, never resting, just fighting! Eternal war! And when you die, may your flesh and bones turn into metal, colder than ice- as cold as Death! May you not even find peace in the grave!' "
Jackrum drew breath before continuing. " Sinclaire faded away into the wind, her last words 'I love you.' They were his as well, before the country was assaulted by enemies on all sides in a war that lasted a hundred years. Eneru died on his feet, his body not willing to give up dignity even in death. His body became solid metal, but never seemed to remain a single color- rather, it was a color one could not describe, for it should not exist. His body was melted down to make the greatest blades in history,'all of them black as the abyss. However, a village Shaman found a little bit left of this metal and formed it into a flute, at which time the flute lost its darkness to the night and took on the silver of the moon. It also began to play itself, using the wind for air. The Shaman came from the same village as Eneru and Sinclaire and knew the stories. He passed the instrument down through generation after generation, all bearing the same name. The Death Curse had been out-tricked, and Sinclaire and Eneru were forever together."
Jackrum shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry if I seem t' be goin' senile- my daughter would be about your age, I guess you just remind me o' her."