Leyman’s theme song.
(( No, but really, I listen to this and I just can’t help but to see him crafting a spell, blue swirls being drawn about him as if he’s conducting an orchestra with his talon. It’s a dark room and you just see him with the blue twirling about his frame, eyes closed in concentration and face serene. His off hand is helping the other along in its dance, and as he finishes one area he has to take a twirling step elsewhere to add more to his wards, eyes still closed in trust of his senses. That step leads to another, and soon he’s dancing. His boots slide across the dusty, dark ground, coat flapping about him and orchestra of magic still conducted, eyes still shut to focus and create something unexplainable. And finally, as the darkness tries to close in, a low voice begins to fill the air. He’s singing along with the music in his head. Dancing and singing, conducting music only he can hear… but then it comes on its own, the blue strands in the air taking on a life of their own, pulsing with the beat he’s stomping on the ground, an ancient dance, one of energy and life. The air quivers with excitement and vitality as he twirls to the center and throws his arms in the air, the last of the cornerstones, and the music crescendoes to a deafening level, but all you want to do is watch, listen, see the man dance and hear his song, watch the magic in the air slink along after his steps like an extention of his mind. The earth beats with his steps, each slide a river in the dust, each step a rockslide, each leap an earthquake. He swings his arm mightily and the magic swirls about him, kicking up a wind that smells of autumn, crisp leaves and the tang of smoke. A blast of sound, of energy, of creation, and safety fills the air. The man who has no name to the world stands in the darkness as the blue shoots away, panting heavily. His arms drop with his head… and he smiles. A small smile of understanding, of victory and the thrill of living. He walks away without a word or a sound, steps measured and slow, with the rhythm he had stomped into the dust earlier laying heavy in the air. ))
