Jonathan is a bard of a pretty large adventurers party that once wandered around in the Forgotten Realms. He is an artist and he likes the attention, he likes the people that cheer and admire him. He loves the glory.
Long ago, he was just training. He was poor at that time and an old and wise bard was a mentor for him.
He came to Jonathan's house a long time ago, just wandering around there.
Jonathan was a growing boy then, in the uncertain ages where he isn't a child anymore, but has not become a man either, but just tangling between those, able to go so many ways that choosing is real hard.
Being the youngest of the family, Jonathan always had everyone to look up to. Being quite a clumsy and modest lad, Jonathan did. A lot of time he spend on the roof of his home, just sitting there, so no-one can see him, and writing some stories about adventures, dragons and heroics, not knowing if he will even see this for real.
His father and mother expected that their son would just stay home for a long time. Too clumsy to do something useful around, too shy to go out in the hard out-side-world. They honestly did not know if there would ever become anything of their son.
One day an old bard with a large beard walked passed Jonathans' home. He saw the boy sitting on the roof, thought for a while and decided to take the path to the house.
"Hello!" he shouted.
Jonathan looked up, surprised, and saw the man standing there.
"Are you... are you...? " Jonathan started mumbling.
"O no... don't say it..." the man called back.
"Gandalf?" Jonathan couldn't resist asking.
"I AM NOT GANDALF! ME AND GANDALF ARE NOTHING ALIKE. ONLY BECAUSE I HAVE A BEARD DOES NOT MEAN THAT I AM GANDALF!"
"Hello sir-that-is-not-Gandalf." Jonathans' father said, who just came walking outside.
"Hello sir-that-also-is-not-Gandalf." the old man said. "Is that your son up there?"
"Eh..."
Jonathans' father looked closely at the stranger. It did not seem like he had a large object in his hands he could hit him with. He did not have pieces of broken glass or so in his beard either. The man did not even look all that angry. He decided to risk it this time.
"Yes, that is my son." he said.
"Can I speak with him for a while?" the man asked.
"Sure." Jonathans father proclaimed and he went to work.
The old man climbed on the roof in a way so surprisingly handy that Jonathan would not be able to do himself. He looked at Jonathan's surprised face and laughed.
"I'm not that old yet. So, you sit here on the roof, don't you?"
"Well... yes" Jonathan said.
"Interesting." the man said. "What are you doing?"
"I am sitting on the roof."
"And...?"
"I am writing some stories. I don't know why, really. That moron from the newspaper won't even print them."
"What's it about?" the man asks.
"Heroes, sir. Big time heroes with shiny teeth, big swords covered in blood, all protecting the innocent and getting loads of money and stuff. But oh well... it's just fantasy, you know. But it seems to be all I'm good for. I cannot do something really useful because I am a clumsy idiot."
"Hmm..." the old man says. "But you can imagine you are a hero right?"
"That I can."
"Well, than you are one. You have got the spirit, right there."
The man points to Jonathan's chest.
"There?" Jonathan asks. "In my chest? In this particular part of my chest? Right here, so that if someone will cut this out it will be gone?"
The man sighs. It's never easy talking to special children.
"You seem to be a thinker, Jonathan. Maybe you shouldn't be locked up in this place. Maybe you should go out there with me. I can train you to be a bard, like I was. Then you can join a adventurers party and sing about their heroics and maybe even become a hero yourself."
Jonathans' eyes start to glitter.
"Is that possible? Just going out there, having adventures? People looking up to me? But I'm not really all that good in performing, sir." "You are what you imagine to be, Jonathan. If you come with me I will train you."
"I will have to ask." Jonathan thought.
"Dad!" he shouted. "Can I become a hero and fight dragons and so?"
"Sure son." his father answered.
"Cool!" Jonathan shouted and fell down the roof.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all." the old man said to himself.

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