I began singing at an early age. At this time, I could only assume I was loved, especially by my close relatives. I lived in a large house with a well respected father. His reputation was only outweighed by his wealth, which was probably the source of his reputation in the first place. In fact, my father had served as the mayor of our village for a long term before I was ever born.

I believe I was around five years old when my lovely voice was first discovered by Matchstix, my tutor. He was holding auditions in search of a young and talented vocalist for the Harvest Festival Show, a yearly tradition in my homeland of Perfectia. The Harvest Festival was held in honor of the ancient harvest seasons of Perfectia, the seasons in which the riders of the old kingdom would massacre those that disturbed the peace of the everyday citizens.

            Matchstix was the most unusual of tutors, especially being that he lived in Perfectia. I can safely say that his kind weren't well looked upon compared to my peoples' customs. His hobby was setting things ablaze, literally. However, his incredibly unique angles at doing so earned him quite a reputation of intelligence. My papa, knowing this, swiftly offered Matchstix a hefty fee in the event that he introduced me to his vast knowledge. From then on, my education was crafted by the man I thought to be the wisest in all of Perfectia. To say the least, I was more than happy to accept my new tutor.

            Regardless of all this, upon auditioning before Matchstix, he was noticeably amazed at the quality of my voice. I sung a beautiful folk song about a man in a red suit who, among other things, cleaned chimneys with his enormous blubber. Apparently, this man had acquired a considerable amount of fame in the ancient times.

Matchstix quickly accepted me in his planned performance. I was young and naïve then. How was I to know he sought the voice of a young girl? That was merely a petty obstacle for this entity of brilliance. He hired only the greatest of designers to completely transform me into a young girl. At the time, there was no better designer in Perfectia than Pierre Le Vonne. He was also a plastic surgeon, but Matchstix said those extremes weren't quite necessary.

The transformation was quick. Upon a quick glance in the mirror, I was entirely convinced as to my feminine nature. I'm sure now that each time I look in the mirror I'm still seeing myself as that little singing girl. I must admit too that I was damn pretty.

            I followed that routine in the festivals for years to come, and my relationship with Matchstix grew. I don't think either of us noticed that the villagers began to lose interest in the show. They went as far as to ignore the Harvest Festival all together, but Matchstix and I would never have noticed. The show would go on year after year with a new and unique musical developed in cooperation.

Papa began to suspect something when I volunteered to take the show on tour to nearby villages. I found Matchstix and myself completely excommunicated from the village by the time I was ten years old. After many failed attempts at finding a place for us in other villages of Perfectia, we were left only with the conclusion to sail out to a new land. Thus began the voyage that would put my beautiful face in history books forever.

            Our first stop was Port Shipland, the richest port in Perfectia and perhaps our only means of escape. Those who do not fit in Perfectia are often sent to Port Shipland in order to be deported. While we weren't quite deported, we figured we might as well head on out before that time was to come. I guess we sort of deported ourselves. Due to the deporting issues, Port Shipland had a greater variation of people with greater variations of unique traits.

A man by the name of Captain Kamar generously offered to sail us to the nearby land of Rusha, a land thought to be an inversed form of Perfectia, containing many Perfectian values under a different system of guidelines. Captain Kamar also said Rusha stood opposite Perfectia on a moral divide. I wasn't quite sure what this meant at the time, but I was assured that it reinforced a more welcome feeling towards people like Matchstix and I. Needless to say, I looked forward to such a change in environment.

We set sail from a small dock in the poorest section of the village. A few recently acquired friends saw us off, as well as some high class Perfectians picketing with signs containing such friendly messages as "Good riddance" and "Never come back." I blew a farewell kiss to all of them as the ship began to sail, knowing their broken hearts could not handle seeing my beautiful face again.

            Kamar himself had planned for this to be his final trip, claiming that Perfectia was not quite friendly to his interests either. A serious bond was born between us. Thus, about halfway through the voyage, Kamar proceeded to show us his collection of very disturbing photographs. I learned the meaning of the word "fetish," and it seemed that Kamar had a fetish for smelly, overworked pirates. He sailed the seas for many years in attempt to encounter a fierce band of pirates. He longed lovingly for the smell of an action packed scoundrel of the sea. I could not believe it, but I found, upon analyzing my own quirks, that I had no room for disgust.

            Matchstix and Kamar hit it off quite well. Kamar was quite an intellectual. His wisdom seemed to almost match with that of Matchstix. They had spent a lot of time discussing concepts that soared far over my head, concepts of philosophy, lost thoughts of the past and modern thoughts that would surely guide the future. I now realize how happy I should have been then. In my childhood innocence, I knew not the events that were to unfold. I looked out at sea, ungrateful, only despising my naivety. We inched closer to Rusha, the land of the free.

            Kamar came to me only once during the voyage. "What flaw did Perfectia find in you, boy?" he asked me.

"I have been cursed with boyhood. Woe is me!" I exclaimed, "For I should have been born under the true intents of fate, as a little girl. However, the Gods of fate have dealt me a cruel hand of misfortune. I see this not as a flaw but as a loss."

            Kamar and I continued to speak about my history of crossdressing. He took great interest in my supposed flaw. I came to learn the word "transvestite," which, from then on, I used to describe half of who I had become. I had already known the other word, "bard," which I had taken up as a nickname during the days of the Harvest Festival Show due to my extraordinary singing talent. My introductions, from then on, always began with, "Greetings, sir. I am Bard, the traveling transvestite. I am quite pleased to make your acquaintance."

            We reached Rusha in the middle of the week following the departure. Matchstix was relieved, having acquired seasickness sometime during the voyage. My only problem with the voyage was the rocking feeling I got on stable land. I was told that I had yet to gain my sea legs.

We all split up for a while at the seemingly great city of Port Miracle. I searched the local stores for the latest fashions. Kamar sought out the local gossip on recent pirate sightings. Matchstix said he had some personal business to tend to.

            I was shocked to see that, in such a large city, none of the common folk seemed to share my age. In fact, the majority were far older than I had expected. I had long since associated old age with the intolerance found in Perfectia. I found this fact so odd that I took it to question with a random passerby. "Greetings, sir," I began, "I am Bard, the traveling transvestite. I would much appreciate it if you could provide a solution to my dilemma." Laughing, the man walked away.

            I was shocked, confused, and perhaps a little offended. Such a gesture towards a beautiful princess such as myself should never be taken lightly. I decided to try again. Stopping yet another passerby, I valiantly proclaimed, "Sir, might a noble princess ask you a question?"

            "She might, being that I am quite handsome," the man responded, "I certainly do not protest."

            "Where are all the children of this city?" I asked.

            "Should her highness be so afraid as to make direct contact with a commoner?" the man looked slightly puzzled, "None the less, the children are in school, of course."

            "School?" I questioned this word.

            "I fear the land from which this princess hails," the man said, "For it must lack a firm structure of education."

            Laughing, I walked away, in hopes that it was perhaps a positive gesture of their culture that I did not understand. The more I spoke with the people, the more confused I found myself. I soon gave up and purchased a long, pretty dress from a puzzled merchant on a lively street corner. I bought a few more quick accessories before seeking out my companions.

            Clad in the most beautiful clothing a little girl could ever want, I found Kamar where I had expected, the local vigilante group. This group, among other security purposes, was assigned to keep an eye out for pirates near the coastline. Kamar welcomed me with open arms and introduced me to Yozz, captain of the Port Miracle Vigilante Squad, and one of Kamar's greatest sources for pirate information.

            Yozz had a permanent look of distress painted upon his face. Upon looking deep into his soul, I could tell that he had seen things. He had seen things that no one dared to believe. I feared getting to know this man, knowing that these strange secrets would one day be revealed to me. His lack of hair and knack for wearing dark shades of clothing only continued to refuel my fear in his character.

            Regardless, I hadn't much of a choice. I was obligated to stay in the company of Matchstix and Kamar, who, by now, were inseperable. We were quickly taken in and given food and shelter by the Vigilante. In return, of course, we were assigned our first mission. To Kamar's endless satisfaction, we were placed on coastline patrol for pirates.

            Yozz joined Kamar, Matchstix, and I on a Vigilante ship that far exceeded the standards of Kamar's. We even departed from a large port in the business-heavy section of town, seen off by crowds of adoring fans. I blew them a kiss, to which the majority of the crowd blew one back. They must have been confident in my ability, not grieving that they would never see me again. I was excitedly aware that the mission would be a success.

We sailed the ship about a half a mile away from the shore along with nearly twenty more Vigilante ships spread out along the coastline. This was to be an extensively time consuming mission. It was the season that pirates would normally roam and prey on rich coastal villages. While they rarely attacked massive port cities, there was always a chance, depending on how devious the particular group of pirates was. We had brought with us enough supplies, we assumed, to last us at least three weeks at sea.

            Within the first few days, there were no reported sightings of pirates or suspicious vessels near the coast. Yozz seemed relieved, while Kamar seemed disappointed. He shouted curses whenever there was a false alarm. I hadn't really much a care of the situation. I spent most of my time exercising my beautiful voice in front of a mirror. It was absolutely clear that my beauty was the fuel of the whole Vigilante's determination. Below deck, each moment I'd sing, another crew member would head above deck to find some work, inspired to no longer laze around below.

            I distinctly remember a day in which Kamar was particularly upset. It was reported that another Vigilante vessel was attacked by pirates early that morning. Upon further reports, the culprits were narrowed down to none other than the infamous Citrus Band, whose insanely intense crimes were well known throughout our world. I, of course, had not heard of such a thing, having lived in Perfectia most my life. Kamar, however, knew and idolized this worthy sect of hard working pirates. Apparently, Citrus was a rebellious island nation. While he was disappointed that his own vessel was not attacked, he was excited to know that the Citrus Band was in the area and that their sights were aimed for Port Miracle.

            Kamar made arrangements for our vessel to switch places with the vessel previously said to have been attacked.. Needless to say, the frightened crew members of the attacked vessel were quite relieved to have this chance to escape the danger zone. Kamar was quite excited to have gained this chance to fulfill his every dream. He danced on deck for all too see, singing merrily about burly pirate love. I was quite excited for this chance of true adventure. Yozz felt assured that our group could keep the shores safe. Perhaps I would be captured by pirates and held hostage. It was an inevitable situation due to my absolute beauty. Thus, during the transfer, I changed in to my prettiest dress and applied makeup found in the bags of a female passenger. I was convinced that I looked even more beautiful than that first Harvest Festival Show night.

            Later that evening, a woman frantically tore the ship apart in search of her makeup. She must have chewed the heads off of fifteen crew members who had no idea as to what had happened. I don't think I ever associated this problem with my findings and usage of someone else's makeup. I did, however, allow her to borrow the makeup that I initially stole from her in the first place. Looking back, I wonder how she couldn't have noticed it was hers in the first place.

            That night, it happened. I had never seen Kamar happier as we spotted a ship near the horizon bearing the flag of Citrus. They were heading straight at us. I stayed on deck, so as to remain in plain sight for our soon-to-be guests. The first wave was slightly confused as they met little resistance from weak deckhands. A few deckhands fell to the pirates, but most retreated in fear.

            One particularly burly pirate came straight for me. "It seems this raid wasn't entirely worthless," he said, looking at me then turning his head to the others with a grin.

            Flattered, I held out my hands. "Greetings, sir. I am Bard, the traveling transvestite," I cheerfully proclaimed, only to have my wrists bound. I was taken as victory spoils, which undeniably inflated my already massive ego. I'm sure it was quite unfortunate for my companions to have lost me. However, a fortunate new group found themselves with the beauty of my company.

            Whatever it was they sought of a young, beautiful girl I was willing to provide, hoping that my born curse would not affect the opportunities.