• The sun was shining and the birds were singing their merry songs on the cool, summer morning. Twins eyes of a deep crimson color snapped open as the young prince sat up in his bed. He turned his gaze quickly over towards the large window to the left of him, hopped out of bed and ran to it. With a gleeful giggle, he threw open the curtains, soaking up the blinding, but warm rays of the morning sun. His shoulders shivered as he smiled, looking out at the scenery that stretched for miles. There were so many things in the world that he wanted to see; his wish in life was to travel around and to see and discover as many wonders of the world as he could. The only problem was that he'd make a terrible journeyman. He knew nothing of how to wield a sword, or any other decent weapon for that matter. He had no knowledge of how to survive in the wild; he was sheltered and lived a cozy lifestyle. Resting his elbows on the windowsill, the prince gave a soft sigh, blinking languidly as he smiled.

    Here, things were simple, easy, a life full of nothing more than relaxation. There were no important royal decisions to make, not for him at least. No, here it was just hushed, whispered insults, and reluctant service from the maids. As long as his mother wasn't around, asking for even the simplest thing from a servant was a chore itself; he would have had easier luck just doing things for his own self. Not that he really blamed them; it was probably incredibly insulting for elves to treat a simple human boy as their own. He had royal blood from both sides, from both his mother and father, and yet he still felt himself a commoner.

    Prince Tann'cha sighed, resting his head upon the windowsill as he let his eyes slide closed, listening only to the sounds of his own breath and the distance noises of the morning outside. A frown contorted his pink lips as a whimper left them. Ah yes, today. Today was going to be his twelfth birthday, not that anyone seemed to care. He'd never had a large party to celebrate the day of his birth, since he had no friends to speak of. Straightening up, the white-haired boy headed towards the small corner of the room where he kept his clothing, trading his sleeping robes for an unimpressive outfit, like what he wore each day, and began to straighten and comb his hair with his fingers. He walked towards the vanity in the opposite corner of the room, taking a seat on the chair nearby and staring into the mirror that sat on the tabletop. His fingers stopped playing with his unruly white hair as they ran down the sky-blue markings on each cheek. These were proof that he had been accepted by the Elders in the Capital, yet to him, they carried a different meaning. He had never spoken of the meaning in question, however, not even to his mother.

    The small tattoos were tears. Tears that the prince had shed out of anger, out of sorrow, but more prominently, out of loneliness. He wouldn't deny it, he indeed was lonely, extremely lonely. His eyes left his own sorrowful reflection, having not the stomach to stare at himself with that expression any longer, as he stared at the top of the vanity table. Two small drops of water dripped down onto the wooden surface, then a third, and fourth. And, not before long, Tann'cha found himself sobbing a river, the tears pouring from his red eyes, his face twisted in agonizing sadness. Some birthday this was shaping up to be…No, some life this was. Every day was being wasted, considering his race; he didn’t exactly have all the time in the world. He knew he only had another sixty or seventy years left, that is, if he didn't die of something else before old age. He stood up suddenly, slamming his hands down on the tear-stained surface of the vanity, letting out a noise of furious anguish, turning on his heels as he began to pace in his room, hands clenched in his own white hair.

    He cursed and swore under his breath, walking back and forth in a straight line across his room, continuing to sob. Why did things have to turn out like this? Why did he have to be a human?! He loved his parents dearly, yes, but why did they have to make such a plain and stupid and generally unwanted child? Tann'cha shook his head, looking around suddenly as he picked up the book that rested on the bedside table, stared at it with an angry gaze, then threw it at the mirror with a loud yell. It shattered instantly, making a loud crashing noise, the glittering pieces falling onto the floor and reflecting bits of light around the room. The crash didn't go unnoticed, as he turned just in time to see the door swing open wide, two golden eyes peering into the room in worry. His mother, of whom he only referred to her of that title, strode into her son's room to see the mirror in pieces and her human child with his hands covering his face, sitting on the bed hunched over.

    She approached slowly, wanting to speak, yet the way her boy's shoulders quivered took all her words away. While, normally, words would soothe him, calm him down, reassure him, but in this case today, she knew that she'd only be wasting her breath. The silver-haired woman sat down onto the foot of the bed next to the crying boy, slowly sliding her arms around his shivering shoulders and pulling him into a close embrace. At once, the boy's arms wrapped around his mother's back as he clung to her desperately. She could have chastised him, scolded him for breaking the mirror in such a violent display and he wouldn't have given a care. As long as someone was paying attention to him, as long as someone showed concern and care for him and his well-being. A strangled laugh came from the prince as he buried his head into his mother's shoulder, staining the fabric with tears. He couldn't help it, the tears just kept flowing. He had almost wished he could have been raised elsewhere, away from the race that wasn't his, away from the customs he could never practice, away from the people who rejected his being. If only he could have been with others of his own kind. But then, he would have never known his mother.

    And it was this thought that made him cling tighter to the pale-haired woman, even as she patted his head and rubbed his back in a soothing method.