Cantaman

There is a famous historical site in Clearspring unknown to the Elves, where a tree grew tightly around a deposit of Lifestone. When Yaen's Rebellion broke out, Clearspring was engulfed in the fires of war, and the young sapling drew its strength from the ashes, immediately gaining consciousness. The Elves welcomed their newborn protector, but found his communication skills to be lacking, for he could speak only in wind-like whooshing sounds. But each night, as the wind blew through his leaves, his speech—purer than Elvish and closer to the rhythm of all things—could heal the wounds left by war.

When the Lifestone within Cantaman was awakened, the world as he knew it was destroyed—he could see the ebb and flow of the universe, hear the whispers of the stars, sense the Dwarves' joy, the Satyrs' sorrow, and the cries of Human children. Amidst this cacophony of sound, there stood an absolute and eternal rhythm, one beyond life, death, and time itself. In the face of the Queen's enquiries, he merely bowed silently and set off on his journey. He would find the eternal rhythm and listen to the sigh of all living things.

Cantaman cut a strange figure as a tavern guest. Amidst the laughter and telling of trivial tales, he tried his best to mimic their language. Enchanted by the Humans' use of musical instruments, he snapped off one of his own branches—the one most imbued with spiritual energy—and fashioned it into a flute. Though he had no mouth, and could not blow as Humans could, he formed a pact with the wind. At the lightest touch, the breeze would blow gently through the flute's holes. Even the most raucous of Dwarven taverns would fall silent at the sound of the harmonious rhythm of nature.

Human poetry on the subject of Humankind's western migration speaks of Cantaman as a gentle guide, his vines leading the dispossessed masses on, his flute calming the fears of those who had lost everything. But Human greed betrayed the Elves' benevolence, and when the fires of war spread to Ffynon, Cantaman stopped playing. The Elves discovered that when they spoke of conflict and man-made weapons, Cantaman's speech broke down and became hard to understand. For some reason, Emrys, who up until now had been unconcerned, suddenly became extremely interested, and whispered his conjecture: the vines protected a gentle yet stubborn heart. If it was not acknowledged, it would not speak.