Key West, Florida

Ron and his mother really had only the barest notions of where their human ancestry hailed from. For this reason, Ron's journey of self discovery was rather general. Her parents were American, that was all she knew. Where they had come from before then, she'd never really cared.

"If I had to guess," she'd told him, "Not America." She also hadn't known anything about Earth geography.

In his time out here he had met several people with varying complexions that led him to believe that perhaps his human family hailed from India, or one of the African Nations. Or the Caribbean.

"Jesus was a pirate, who sailed the seven seas, Jesus was a pirate..."

In the meantime he'd secured a spot on the boardwalk for the nightly festival and was quite enjoying regaling people with both obscure (or not so obscure) human music, and famous Elven songs.

"He didn't rob or pillage, he didn't rape or steal, his ways were never violent. Instead he performed miracles, the blind and sick were healed, Jesus was a pirate."

The sunsets down here were beautiful, and he liked how they framed him when he performed.

"Woah!" the crowd gasped as there was a green flash on the horizon, just as the sun sank beneath it.

Ron started. He had not done that. The hell?

He honestly wasn't sure whether he heard the music or saw the pirate ship first.

"Oh no way!"