Hinayn

              Beautiful castles, the tapestries that climbed walls, they always made him smile. He loved art, but only when it didn't have to do with his family. The breeze licked across his skin, signalling the weather. "Mother, may I go out into the forest?" "Take four legion members." his mother smiled fondly at him, his father looked far off though in his own world. "Bjorn, focus dear." His mother spoke, laughing softly as she kissed his father's cheek. Micheal waved to his parents and walked out of the doors, his cloak waving behind him, he didn't like how it curled at his ankles, he wanted to strut, not be made fun of his shortness and clumsiness. 

                           Micheal grabbed his staff to steady himself when he walked over uneven stones. They had everything, technology, a stable government, and the learning center, he loved it there. He took his cloak off, walking to the new refugees, "A gift from queen Ophelia and king Bjorn." He bowed to them, giving them bread. "Any word from the Hinayn?" He asked the guard, Victor, "No, I'm sorry sir." He shook his head in disappointment. "What are Hinayn?" one of the children questioned, curling up against their mother. "They're people with powers," Micheal smiled, sitting down beside the groups of people. "Sometimes they carry fire, sometimes they can run really fast, or be really strong." He stretched, his back making a popping sound. 

                           "That's cool! Are you a Hinayn?" Another child asked, "No, I'm a normal Elf, but I do work very closely with the Hinayn tribes." He wrapped his cloak around one of the adults without blankets, they had given theirs to the younger ones. "Let me asked my parents if I can grab more blankets" He waved, walking to the palace again. 

                           The stairs usually moved on their own, they must have broken down. He walked up them, heading to the fabric corner. "Do we have enough blankets for thirty people?" He asked, the maids counted before nodding and handing him a cart. It was Elf rule, everyone did their part, independence was necessary for survival. He put blankets and cots onto the large cart, wishing the maids good day before stopping at the steps of the stairs. He was thinking for a long moment before he picked up the cart, trying to walk carefully down the stairs. 

                           "Hey, Trey." A girl said from behind him. He yelped and fell down the stairs with the blankets, before he hit the ground he was floating midair. "Please be careful, prince." She smiled, teasing him with the nickname.

                           "Nari, you have to stop doing that." He sighed dusting himself off before collecting the blankets. 

                           "No" she answered, helping him pick them up, "Why are you so mean to me?" He asked, "You're easy to bully, prince." she shrugged, the blankets and cots floating in the air. "Oh you're delivering these to the new refugees?" She asked. "Yes, and stop reading my mind." He huffed, she floated by, the blankets following her. He crossed his arms and tried to seem indifferent, but just ended up following her. He kept telling himself to strut, like royalty, she turned around and laughed at him. "Alright, I give in, you're not a prince. You're a pretty pretty princess."

                           She floated over to the learning center, greeting everyone and setting down blankets. He leaned over to help make up beds. Most of the people were Dragonborns, they looked like average humans, but with wings, or horns. One of them looked like a dragon just on two legs. "What are your names?" he asked, "I'm Isabelle, this is Eliza, and Venahol." The most dragon looking one said, pointing to her children. 

                           "Venahol is a beautiful name." Nari smiled, sitting beside the children and fixing their clothes. "It means Spider Lily in Fulion!" The child grinned. "Very nice," Nari nodded. Victor was watching them silently, he looked away quickly after a moment. "Is it alright if I leave for the day? I have more important things to attend to." He asked Micheal. "Of course, go ahead." He nodded, the boy disappeared into the alleyways. 

                           "I wish the weeping willows could talk" He had remembered one of the refugees saying once. "Then I wouldn't feel alone, and maybe they would have had the knowledge on saving my mother." Things like that hurt him to hear, especially from such young kids, he just wanted to hug them all. Sometimes they would thing he was going to hurt them, because everyone else had. He wished he could do something more than give blankets and tell stories.But he couldn't, it hurt of course but at least he was doing good for them right now.

                           "Father, when will I be old enough to fight the humans?" He asked at dinner that night. "Never," Visifen said, quietly sneaking some bread to Dila, Caius's pet machine. "Why not?" Micheal asked, "The humans fight dirty." His father spoke up, helping Caius cut up his food. "Why do they fight dirty? Don't they understand war crimes?" "Not they do not, they want land, our land, the Hinayn land, and the Dragonborn land. It's harder to defeat an enemy that you pity." His father murmured, giving Caius his plate. His brother kept taking the food and acting like he didn't have arms. 

                           "Stop playing with your food, eat it Caius. Some people do not have the luxury of a warm meal every night." His mother, Ophelia laughed softly, taking the meat out of the boy's arm sleeves. "BLEH" Caius shouted, acting like the sauce was blood pooling from his eyes. Caius seemed to ignore this as he quietly acted like there were screams of terror. He wasn't giggling though like when he read scrolls. He looked afraid of it, like what he saw was real.

                           What if that was something actually happening to someone in another colony? What is someone was having their eyes cut out and their guts thrown up? 

                           "Caius, stop playing with your food."