(Past)

LANCE WAS lounging at the back of an old rusty jeep when a call made him flinch. He stared at the horizon, wondering why would a servant will call him on his leisure time. Lance blinked his eyes slowly and turn to see a guy a little older than him with slightly pointy ears and short, green hair. It's the standard look for the common elves.


He signaled him to be quiet. "What's the fuss all about?"

"Ah! Well, your highness, the great marshal had called your father. The matter has something to do with you. Don't you like to listen and do something about it?"

Lance rolled his eyes. His proud nose has a young shine to it. His skin fairly white and full of vitality. "It's going to be me being sent to a school for mortals. Why do I bother hearing his insults for the second time?"


Lance grew up on the side of his mortal mother. But by the age of sixteen, his father ordered him to be sent back in the palace. The man had no son in his first wife and so they resorted into keeping him as an heir.

And now that the first wife is finally conceiving, the old fat guy couldn't dismiss him fast enough.


"I pity my brother, you know." Lance wondered, "Burdened by the huge responsibility of wearing a huge cloak all day, just to please the elves and the gods. That's awful. No one should be saddled with the old man's affairs."

"Please..." The servant looked left and right with a cautious glance. "P-Please tone down your voice. What if someone hears you saying that?"

'Only you and I knew this place. This is my safe haven. I know those words will soon enter the royals' ears. And you'll be the one selling me to them.'

It took Lance a few weeks before he noticed a certain pattern. Everything that he does always gets into his father's ears. He always knew the bad things that he had done. There's no other culprit but Sein, this servant acting so gratified in his presence but secretly wishing his head off the royal family chart.

Lance suspected that he's half sibling with this nuisance. A guy born out of wedlock. Too bad that his mother is a common elf. The King couldn't accept this kid as his because his blood is not pure, or that his blood is tainted.

While that baffles Lance as to why is he still here if that's the case, he had an idea of the reason behind it. Elves view humans as weak and easily oppressed. That's why the mortal blood in him doesn't matter.

'Are you or are you not one of his hidden kid?' Lance pursed his lips and asked. "Fine. I won't put you in danger because of my behavior. You know I regard you as my only friend in this palace. That's why I shared this spot to you."

"A broken car and dirt patches on a barren piece of land." Sein laughed. "You really have weird tastes in life, sir."

'The great marshal.' Lance cleaned his pants and jumped out of the jeep. "I have this talent because I'm unique."

The great marshal must be part of his father's pawn in his games. Maybe he pull favors on him so that he can take Lance to a far away land. 'Should I or should I not go? I don't want to be sent away but staying in this intrusive environment will kill me.'

"Aren't you going to listen in their meeting?" Sein insisted, "You know, maybe you can stop them from sending you away? Then your highness wouldn't need to go. You can stay here, in your jeep."

Lance shrugged. "I don't really care about that. They should send me on a location where there's no anxious servants like you following me around like a dog."

Sein's concerned face became disappointed. "How can you... call me like that so easily? I thought we were friends. I'm just concerned about you, 'sir'."

Lance reprimanded him, "Yes. We're friends. But you should know when to shut up as a servant. You're giving me headaches, Sein."

Sein shifted his sight. "With this attitude, you are not in the right mind to rule over the elves' clan. You wouldn't stand a chance to your younger brother once he's cultivated by the teachers."

"Like I fucking care?" Lance sneered. "If you want power, strive for it yourself. Don't use me as a ladder to get what you want. I'm not going to go."

Sein was rattled by his statement. "What? What did you just say?"

"Oh, forget about it." Lance couldn't stop his dislike from rearing an ugly head. "You make me want to puke nails."

Living inside the palace changed Lance's perception in his world. He doesn't belong here. He felt like there's more than this unfortunate piece of land full of pretentious heroes and men with assorted hair colours like it's significant.

Elves love grandiose and excessive wealth. Maybe that's why a part of him loves shiny things. But the discrimination by the hair color feels stupid. Especially when he grew up on mortals teaching and no one cares if you dye your hair peach or grey. It's style and not the predetermined end of one's potential.

"That's right." Lance took a sharp right and hastened his steps. 'I should enjoy the rest of my time here by eating. The kitchen would be out of stock by evening.'

Lance grinned. Eating is indeed more fascinating than following his old man for the afternoon.

His steps became a light jog. The more he thought about what does the great marshal and the king might be discussing right now, the more he speed up because of irritation.

'Stress eating is a thing.' Lance sighed. 'I invented it.'

Someone blocked his way. A nimble chest stopped Lance from his advances. He squawked. "Watch out! This prince is going to the kitchen to eat!"

The man was taller than him. His hair was flowing past his shoulder. Straight and had a quality that makes it look like a curtain of silk. His eyes were cold and unfeeling but his warm laugh surprised Lance. "So this is the king's eldest son, hmn?"

"Yes..." Lance answered on reflex. He squinted. "Who are you?"

He looks unbearably young. The way he handles himself was mature and calculated. It amazed the young admiration in him.

He grinned. "I'm the great marshal. I'm here to talk to you."

When Lance expressed his horror by the way his face paled, the man continued, "My name is Adarmus."