I am tired of this ill begotten city and all of its greedy noblemen. I am tired of all the decay and dying that goes on in the city below me, my city. The smell of rotting food is carried on a breeze that sweeps up from the poorer sections of Rome. The smell is unbearable. The food may be rotten, but is the food that the people, the real people, the backbone of this city, are eating. The wars have depleted the capital's treasury. There is no money to buy food from the rest of the country. The noblemen tax the people of their estates far, far too much, and then carelessly spend the money on luxurious items. But I, I have grown careful and precarious in my age. I eat only what I need, and no longer spend money on exotic foods, nor do i fund extravagant parties here in my palace any longer. I live meagerly. So now, rather than my city kill itself or my city being taken over my our enemies becuase we are too weak to fight back, I destroy my city.
The sound of my violin is carried on the wind across the city. The same wind that now brings to me the smell of burning flesh and wood. The flames of buildings lick the skys with tongues of orange and yellow. The ashes float carelessly on a breeze to land softly around and on me. The screams of the people assail my ears as their lives are taken from them. The sounds of what is left of the noblemen pounding on my door come to me also. But I ignore them, and instead play my violin with such a passion that it takes up the screams and the licking flames and the ashes and the smells and it transforms it into a sweet sound yet, at the same time, it is tainted with the anger of the city, with the desparation of the people. I slowly cross the expanse of my balcony as I play. The notes only fueling the fire of the city and my fire. The sounds at my door have ceased. They have left the palace. It too has caught fire. But I continue to play anyways. I play with a fervor that I have never know before. I play until I can feel the heat of Hell on my heels. I play until nothing is left around me. My palace is of stone. The dawn breaks, and the sun finds me on my balcony still. Exhausted from the playing, yet still filled with an energy. The suns rays play against me. I see before me a city wrought from love. A city made of gold. The hallway before me holds more wonders than a man should be allowed to see. The throne at the end of the hallway is magnificent. I walk towards that throne. As I pass through the hallway, I feel a strong wind against me. Trying to keep me away from my throne. But I continue on. I continue until i reach the throne. And suddenly as it began, the wind stops. I feel an impact of wonder and release. I can still hear the music playing, as i close my eyes.