A couple years before, a young man with pointed ears ran wild through the corridors of a towering tree, his princely title was the only thing he truely held. He dashed back and forth, chasing a cat with the glee of a child until he suddenly tripped and fell flat on his face.

“Ouch, ahhh…” he groaned, rocking back and forth while holding his knee.

A bald elf leaned over him, snapping his fingers inches from his teary eyes. “Get up! You’re not even bleeding,” he said, his tone curt and unyielding.

“Oh, stop that! You’ll make him toughen up the wrong way,” chided an elven woman as she bent down to help the boy.

“If we did it your way, he’d still be suckling from your tit,” he muttered.

She shot him a withering look. “He’s only thirty-six! Weaning them too early is damaging,” she argued, her tone growing sharper.

“I slew a minotaur at his age! You coddle him like a delicate sapling!” he barked, frustration simmering in his voice.

The prince held the woman’s hand, his eyes darting around, searching for a way to escape the rising tension.

She leaned close and whispered, “Hush, you brute. I strike him when no one’s looking,” her tone low but sharp.

He mirrored her closeness, whispering back, “And I’ve heard what you do before you ‘tuck him in’ at night, you sly wench.”

“What are you two discussing so quietly? Anything I should be aware of?” a calm, regal voice interjected.

Both of them jumped in surprise, immediately lowering themselves into deep bows.

In unison, they knelt. “My king, forgive us,” they murmured.

The king, silver-haired and bearing an aura of quiet strength, brushed aside a lock of hair and gestured for them to stand, a warm smile easing their tension.

“Relax, both of you. I only meant to startle you for my own amusement. Please, stand,” he chuckled.

They stood, exchanging a quick glare at one another, but before they could speak further, the king stepped forward, his face softening.

“I wanted to thank you both,” he began. “You’ve cared for my children through the bad and good times alike. Your loyalty will not be forgotten… thank you, Chron. Thank you, Holly.”

Tears welled in Holly’s eyes as she flung herself onto the king’s shoulder, her voice trembling. “You are too kind, my lord.”

Chron, raising a fist to his chest in a solemn salute, declared, “My king, I will never fail you.”

The king’s expression darkened, his form seeming to grow, casting a shadow over them as his voice dropped. “Then perhaps you can tell me… where is my youngest son? The two of you are responsible for watching him.”

Both of them exchanged panicked glances and then began to look down around them, only for their faces to grow in dismay.

Meanwhile, on a lower level of the colossal tree, the boy in question—Elron—was busily catching bugs along the inner trunk. His favorite hunting ground was the third floor, where the light and air seemed to attract all manner of creatures.

“Create object,” Elron muttered, casting a small spell. A fist-sized cage of earth formed around a grasshopper. The bug thrashed inside the cage, its frantic movement making the prince chuckle in delight.

“Hey, Elron, what have you got there?” asked a green-eyed boy who had appeared without warning.

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“Nothing…” Elron stammered, quickly hiding the tiny cage behind his back.

“Pff, I don’t care about your dumb bugs,” said his older brother, feigning disinterest.

Elron glanced at him but kept the bug concealed.

His brother walked closer, leaning in with a smirk. “Come on, let me see. It must be a big one, right?”

“No! I remember what you did last time, you slug muncher!” Elron shouted before turning to run.

But his brother was no mere elf, he was faster, stronger, and already upon him. Elron managed only a few strides before he was shoved against the vine-covered wall. His treasured bug flew from his hand as he tumbled.

“Oh, look at this beauty,” his brother grinned, eyeing the grasshopper.

Elron scrambled to his feet, pleading, “Please, don’t, Adan.”

Their eyes locked—one filled with desperation, the other with a quiet, savoring grin. With a pop and crunch, Adan opened the cage and ate the grasshopper with a satisfied smirk.

Elron's face flushed with anger. “I hate you! You’re vile!” he shouted, pounding weakly on Adan’s chest.

With a flick of his wrist, Adan sent Elron sprawling. “Come on, that was funny,” he sneered, throwing the remnants of the cage aside.

“Flare!” Elron's voice wavered as he summoned a tiny flame in his trembling hand.

Adan smirked, meeting his younger brother's rebellious gaze. “That little spark won’t hurt me, brother. I’m in a whole nother league compared to you. You’ll never best me, half-breed,” he taunted.

Elron gathered his resolve, focusing on the flame, and flung it past his brother’s face. If Adan hadn’t ducked, he would have been scorched.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, you little bastard!” Adan roared, his eyes flashing with rage.

Elron braced himself, recalling everything his mentor, Chron had taught him about facing fear. But as Adan's fist drew back and prepared to strike, Elron’s courage crumbled.

“What’s this commotion?” a calm, yet commanding voice intervened.

Both boys froze, collapsing onto their backs in shock, their fight forgotten in the presence of their father.

The king bent his knees, crouching down in front of Adan, a gentle smile easing the tension. “Now, what did I tell you about hurting others? You know better.”

“He tried to burn me! You didn’t see it!” Adan protested.

“Perhaps,” the king replied, his tone unbothered. “But if I hadn’t appeared just now, that punch would have landed on Elron instead of me.”

“But—”

“No arguments, Adan. Return to your mentors. I need a word with Elron,” he instructed.

Once they were alone, the king looked down at Elron, who was studying the ground, his face sullen. The king sighed, then reached over to ruffle his hair.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

In the blink of an eye, they were transported to the heart of the kingdom’s bustling city square. Despite the royal presence, no one seemed to notice them. The townsfolk bustled about, going from shop to shop, each store nestled within the trees in the classic elven style.

The king gestured for Elron to sit by the large fountain at the square's center, joining him on the edge. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the gentle sounds of water and snippets of passing conversations.

Elron finally broke the silence. “Why are we here, Father?” he asked, gripping the fountain's edge.

The king sighed, choosing his words carefully. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, son… something important. It’s about—”

“About what? Since when do you care about anything to do with me?” Elron interrupted, his voice trembling with resentment.

The king’s expression softened, and he placed a hand over his heart. “I’ve always cared, Elron. I know it may not feel that way. The burdens of this kingdom… they take much of my time, but you… you are what truly matters to me.”

“If I mattered, then you or Mom would spend time with me! Take me places, do things with me—like everyone else!” Elron’s voice rose as he pointed toward the dozens of families moving about in the town square.

Around them, families laughed, gossiped, and chatted amongst themselves. Husbands, wives, children—humans, dwarves, gnomes, elves, and a slew of other races—all gathered together on their day of rest, reveling in each other’s company. Family was a big part for those within the kingdom. Except for Elron, who knew nothing of this closeness.

The king met his son’s gaze, his own face shadowed. “You know why your mother can’t be here,” he murmured.

Elron’s shoulders dropped. He turned, fixing his eyes on the towering tree in the distance. “Just send me back Father,” he whispered, barely above a breath.

The king gave a solemn nod. “Anything for you, my son.”

With a wave of his hand, they vanished, slipping from the square as though they’d never been there at all, leaving no trace that a conversation had ever taken place.