LONG AGO, IN A LAND CALLED Sylvana, there was born to the royal family a son. The heir to the throne, a soul to continue the divine blood of his predecessors. The King and Queen named their son Prince Faolan, in which the hired staff quickly dubbed him the nick name "Lan". As a child, Lan grew to respect his tutors and work his hardest, practicing day after day on the dance lessons his parents would arrange for him. Everyday, he would dance for his parent's approval, letting his feet slide and leap, his arms swing and lunge, letting all his emotions tie together for a smashing climax. His own teachers applauded with praises for his hard work and discipline. Lan would take his bow, look to his parents for approval, breathless, with sweat sliding down his nose. His parents, however, no matter how much they tried, couldn't love him the way he did them.

Every achievement Lan acquired, he did for acceptance and identity in his family. His first horse race, his first bulls eye with the bow, his speeches in the towns' squares, all ignored by his parents. Slowly, without even himself knowing, his heart began to close to emotion of love; only of success and power. The strive for control seemed to drive him deeper and deeper into his mind, letting only the outside speak through a mask. Now, there was no longer anything he wanted for his parents. Lan knew that if he wanted to be achieved, he needed to have his own crown. Silently, as the years dawned and set, Lan's mind worked constantly, waiting for the day where he would become king.
But his parents paid no heed to their son lack of smile and youthful joy; his new interests in the kingdom's affairs where now an improvement than his otherwise "immature" nature. Besides, he was sixteen now, a grown man by the standards of the law. His coronation would be soon and the title of King be passed to him. His parents couldn't also await for the day where their son would become ruler of Sylvana.

However, that day never came. A surprise attack of barbaric invaders from the north, rushed the King's summer castle. The royal family had been out for a ride with the horses and hadn't known of the massacre in the summer castle until it was too late. By the time Lan and his parents had returned to their summer home, the place looked as if a thousand riders from the Underworld had come and painted the castle walls red, with blood. The King and Queen called out for guards to seize the invaders, but by the time their cry was heard, two arrows had found their mark; protruding out of the back of the royal couple. They slumped over, their eyes wide, glossed over with the fog of death.
Lan, knowing that the barbarians would come after him too, rushed back into the forest. He felt his heart beating like a frantic bird, his legs sending him flying past every tree and rock he'd come to know. Finally, after what seem like hours, he found a small cave he'd found as a child. His foot had just slid past the opening when two armed invader ran past, yelling in an unknown tongue.

Lan felt himself growing more and more crowded by darkness. His eyes were suddenly wet with something: tears. Tears for his dead parents, tears for the kingdom he knew he'd have to leave behind. And so, with this set in mind, Lan quietly sobbed within the cold cave, until he felt nothing at a all.