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There was a young boy who lived in a castle in the sky. Why he lived in the sky, he did not know. He was kept there for an undisclosed reason, only occasionally seeing his parents who worked late into the night. He was lonely, as to be expected. A strong melancholy hung in his heart, but he would never dare show it. There were three cruel hostesses who took care of him in his parents' absence that exploited the boy's distress for their own amusement. They were wicked women who looked upon him with malice and saw him as a monster, yet the boy did not know why. But he was too afraid to question it; if he acted out, he would be teased, beaten, even tortured by the women. But they were beautiful, and whenever his parents showed up they would mask their sadistic souls with serene and elegant smiles. It was out of fear that the young boy would act as if nothing was wrong.
There was one particular day where the young boy's father was to visit the world below the clouds for a single week. The child pleaded with his father to go with him. Amidst initial protests from both his parents he was finally able to leave his accursed home, if not just for a little while. This was to be a joyous occasion, as he would be able to return to the majestic forest in which he was originally born in before he was locked away above the Earth. The father had to conduct bureaucratic business on the land in a close city, so the boy decided to venture off into the wood on his own and was told to stay out of the nearby village. He did not care, as long he was back home in peaceful tranquility.
As a mere infant he remembered the bark spires that held up a beautiful sky of leaves that swayed above his head. He remembered how in the spring they would be a vibrant aquamarine color that slowly turned to an elegant green before becoming weathered and brown, eventually wilting in the winter. But eventually his curiosity got the better of him; he wanted to see the small village he left behind. And while the forest was just as beautiful as he remembered, when he made his way into the small settlement the past began to dissipate and fade away within the grim reality of the present. The people who lived there were afraid of the boy. He was young and innocent, but he could see the fear, the hatred, the same amount of disgust he saw in the faces of those terrible housekeepers who abused him.
He had a frail, angelic appearance which didn't make him as inconspicuous as he would've liked. Despite being probably no older than six or seven his hair was a stark silver color, as were his eyes. His delicate frame was draped in muted azure robes as his pale ebony skin tone almost made him radiate. But perhaps his most eye-catching feature was a pair of small elegant wings sprouting from his back. He was altruistic, and amidst his sorrow always wore an endearing smile. But to those people watching him, he was no angel. The young boy was a half-breed.
He was the result of a forbidden relationship between two kinds of people who were mortal enemies; the people of the sky and the Earth-dwellers. He should not be alive, as most half-breeds died at birth either by defects or willingly out of shame, as if to enforce the unholy matrimony between the two enemies. And yet he still breathed. The young boy had no place where he could go without being judged. Despite being born on land he was moved into the castle in the sky because the Earth dwellers feared him like they feared the angelic people who lived up there. He was an abomination, a blasphemous creature whose existence served to remind those of a great betrayal that had taken place. Yet he had no place in the sky either, as they saw him as a mongrel, a worthless and inferior byproduct who lacked the elegance of the angels and the resilience of the Earth-dwellers. And because of this discrimination his parents chose to isolate him, to hide him from the prejudice that existed wherever he lurked and kept him locked in that wretched castle. The prison that was constantly torturing him was ironically meant to serve as his sanctuary.
Streets were evacuated while he timidly walked down the barren roads, his conscious being smothered with paranoid eyes lurking within the reticent houses. Like an ugly little secret eventually being uncovered, the young boy finally began to understand what he was. The facade, the empty smile he always used as a mask wasn't enough to hide behind anymore. In the middle of the streets he lifelessly collapsed to the ground and buried his face into his arms as he wept uncontrollably. Of course this created some deal of conflict among the populace, because while he was by all definitions an abomination, he was still a child and he was still heartbroken. But no one dared approach him; superstition surrounded the half-breeds and people were terrified of what supernatural or unholy abilities they could conjure. Eventually a young mother slowly made her way out of her house to approach the boy. Despite her attempt at good will, he still saw her face was stricken with trepidation. He immediately shouted at her to keep away from him as he stumbled to his feet and ran off into the woods in tears.
* * *
The boy’s sobbing could be heard in the deepest corner of the forest. He sat curled up behind a tall and majestic tree, his arms wrapped around his knees as he prayed for his father to find him and take him back home. But with the rustle of bushes nearby, his weeping went silent. The air suddenly became tense; he felt as if he was being watched. He cautiously stood up and slowly inched toward the shrubbery. His face drew closer to it, sweat beading down his face until suddenly...
"HI!"
The boy let out a scream while he stumbled back and fell to the ground. Through his bloodshot eyes he saw a small girl roughly his age was peering through the bush. Garbed in a plain white dress, her bright hazel eyes and graceful smile peeked through her pine green hair as she quickly scanned the boy.
"What's wrong? Were you crying?" she energetically asked. His eyes still damp from tears, the boy quickly wiped his face to regain his composure. "I saw you run from the village so I decided to follow you and see what happened," the boy heard the girl say. But as his hands left his face, he realized she wasn't in front of him anymore. He looked around for her before he felt a tug from behind.
"Ooh, where did you get these wings?" She felt the soft delicate feathers on his tiny wings as the young boy attempted to pull away from her. "I think they're pretty!" After hearing that, the boy's lower lip began to tremble as he blushed tremendously. He started to cry again, but this time it wasn't because he was upset. In fact, he was elated that this young innocent girl who followed him didn't judge him. She wasn't afraid or disgusted by him; in fact she complimented him, something that he never really heard before.
"My name's Nia! What's yours?" The boy didn't quite understand. He never really gave his name out to anyone, because nobody ever bothered to ask. He was always a phantom to most people, ignored and never referred to directly. Eventually he managed to gather the courage to speak.
"Um... it's Nemorin." he meekly replied.
"That's a nice name!" the girl stated. "Can I call you 'Nemo' for short?" The boy nodded slightly as his tears began to dry. Nia grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Come on, my house isn't far from here! My Grandpa won't mind if I bring someone over. I have this neat little pond in the back. You should come see it!" The shy little boy felt the girl's exuberance course through his body as his legs regained the strength to stand. As he was dragged to her house, another smile crossed his face. For once, it was a genuine, earnest smile.
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