Hearken, ye people of Alabama and beyond, for a wondrous voice hath arisen from the land of Florence. On the eve of a great contest known as The Voice, there came forth a maiden named Kirbi, by birth Savanna Kirby, aged four and twenty winters. At the last hour of the gathering she did ascend the stage, and with her lips gave forth a most stirring hymn — God Only Knows, once sung by the minstrels For King & Country.
Lo, as her song did flow like a river of purest silver, all four of the high judges — Reba the Red Queen, Snoop the Bard of the Streets, Niall the Young of Ireland, and Bublé the Golden Voice — did turn their thrones in awe. Thus did she win the rare honor of the Four-Chair Turn, a token most coveted.
“Kirbi, we have tarried long for voices such as thine,” spake Niall. “From the first breath, I was enthralled. Thy delivery was beyond measure.”
Reba the Queen spake, “Thou hast the full measure of gift — beauty, strength, and the grounding of one wise beyond her years. We rejoice in thy presence.”
Michael of the Silken Tone declared, “Thy voice beareth mark and mastery. Should I hear thee upon the air, I would know at once it was Kirbi. No realm of song is barred to thee.”
And Snoop the Chronicler said, “In a world shadowed by strife, thou choosest to stand in light and faith. For that, I give thee highest praise.”
When the maiden heard such words, she cried aloud, “Lord have mercy on my soul.” And she gave her fealty unto Niall, choosing him as her guide.
Of Her Kin and Her Root
In visions shown to the folk, Kirbi walked upon her father’s farmstead, where fields stretch fair and beasts roam free. Beside her strutted her cherished fowl, a chicken named Cruella. She spake of her family, whose strength upholdeth her, and most of all of her grandmother — a valiant matron who for twenty years warred against the fell sickness of cancer. Oft would the grandmother forsake her own healing to sit at Kirbi’s song. “She was the noblest soul I have known,” quoth Kirbi, “and for her I shall never cease in my striving.”
Once she bent her path toward the healing arts of the body, seeking to be a physical healer. Yet the call of song was stronger, and thus she journeyed unto Nashville, where she did mingle among the singers of country and pop, and before fifteen thousand souls she raised her voice at the great Riptide Festival, where she did also meet Jelly Roll, the minstrel of renown.
The Lineage of Her Song
Her tale began in the days of her youth, when in the sixth year of her schooling a choirmaster overheard her hidden gift. A solo was given, and her parents, astonished, were bidden to seek lessons. From thence her path turned toward destiny.
In her leisure she dwelleth oft upon her parents’ flowered farm, called Flower Chick Farm, where blooms and beasts and the greenhouses of plenty lend her solace and inspire her craft.
The Season’s Contest
Kirbi is not alone among her kin of Alabama, for also hath risen Jazz McKenzie of Birmingham, who at the first gathering won the favor of Michael Bublé with her thunderous rendition of Tina Turner’s ballad. Together, these daughters of Alabama give pride to their land, yet still must they endure the Battles, the Knockouts, and the Playoffs, ere they may sing in the live trials before the multitudes.
Thus is the tale of Kirbi of Florence, the faithful songstress, whose voice is her blade, whose faith is her shield, and whose grandmother’s spirit marcheth with her still.
