Elian sat still, letting the attendants prepare him for the night ahead. He stared into the ornate mirror, his eyes unfocused, his mind wandering far from the Velvet Moon House.
Elian was barely registering the servants efforts because his mind was so lost in the dream he had the previous night, one that had lingered long after waking.
The boy. The blue-eyed boy.
The forest.
The half-heart pendant glinting in the sunlight.
He remembered it so vividly, as if it were his own memory. Yet, he knew better. It wasn't his past that haunted him, not truly. It was the past of the body he now inhabited, the bastard Elian.
He remembered the dreams in sharp detail, the taunts of the Duke's son, Vecto, and his friends.
How they had bullied him endlessly, calling him a bastard, laughing at his heritage. One day, he fought back.
