Rhun was a...special kid, as his mother would say. But in his own way, and that didn't make him at all that much stranger than everybody else.

Alright, so he looked a bit different than other teenagers his age, but not by much. And so he had three parents who loved him-four if he counted his stepmother in Xadia-and maybe that was more than most teenagers his age had, but not by much. Besides, that just meant he had more people to love. Of course, there was also that one, tiny detail about him that made him a bit strange compared to others...but not by much.

Or at least that's what Rhun told himself about that last part. Because technically he was wrong.

How more stranger could you be when you knew you were half elf after all? Moonshadow elf, of all things, to make it worse, the worst kind of elf in humans' eyes. Well, Rhun tried his hardest not to think of that and just tried to keep his head down, barely going outside or talking to anyone, or making any friends. Though his mother and stepmother-both of them- encouraged him to do otherwise, saying he looked relatively human enough so there was nothing to worry about.

Relatively human, as if that's supposed to make me feel better, Rhun thought to himself with a huff as he walked through the village, his head low. It didn't matter how relatively human he looked when everyone could tell there was something off about him even if they couldn't pinpoint what.

Rhun's hair was dark auburn, like his mother's with a matching copper complexion, but he had the pale violet eyes of his father that would make people stare when he served his stepmother, Rosella's customers at the bakery at times she needed a hand running things. His thick hair was a hassle to brush in the morning as Rosella had grumbled many times while she found a way to outsmart and tame it until all was in its current loose bun with only a few strands threatening to escape, but at least it hid most of his ears which tapered to a sharp point that he often had to keep covering whenever he felt them poke out. The hardest part to explain away was his hands; though one had five fingers, the other had only four, the story for them ranging from a bad accident, or the simpler tale that it was a mere birth defect. Faintly darker marks than his skin tone went through and around his eyes, and in a line down his chin from his bottom lip to his neck, all where he assumed his markings would be in his father's culture; they could have been birthmarks and no one would have known any better. No one, but Rhun and his family unless the moon was full and high in the sky.

Still, Rhun supposed he was fairly human in appearance, with his eyes the shade of his father's but the shape of his mother's. And yet, he wouldn't take that chance, knowing the way everyone looked at him out the corner of their eyes or when they thought he didn't see them, and especially knowing how these people felt about elves of any kind. Someone finding him to be the son of King Draven of the Moonshadow elves? Why not sign his own death warrant?

And it wasn't like the people of Xadia would accept him either. After all, he was half human, a thing most Xadians despised, and unless it was night or the full moon, he did take most after his mother. It felt weird at times, to never be enough or to be too much of either of his parents' races to fit in...anywhere, really. No matter which world he lived in, he'd still be shunned for having his heart as half Xadian and half Human. Rhun's parents seemed to be the only exception to that way of thinking. Rosella and his Xadian stepmother, Desdemona, his father's wife and queen, may not have been his birth parents, but Rhun still considered them family, just as they considered him so.

His father had never shunned or forgotten him, not once. They wrote each other as often as possible by bird, and every once in a while Draven would arrange a spot for them to see and speak to each other face to face, where neither of them would be spotted. In those meetings, Draven had taught Rhun some of the Moonshadow elves culture and how to wield a blade (his mother did so, too, but she was gone too often for it stick). His wife Desdemona had a somewhat fondness for Rhun as she had been there when he was born and had used her healing magic to help his mother after Draven found her. She wrote him as well and sometimes came with Draven to show him runes though Rhun had expressed his dislike and uncertainty of using magic for himself, but there was a line between them that neither of them as stepson and stepmother knew precisely how to cross. Rhun knew that Draven still loved his mother, and he undeniably loved Rhun. At the same time, however, they both knew they had their own places in their own realms. And Rhun knew he had a half-sister in Xadia who would be Draven's heir and who he knew all about yet she knew not even his existence.

Rhun's mother, Amadahy, was off protecting the Breach, and though she had fought off elves, she showed more gentleness toward them than anyone else on The Standing Battalion. She was a good fighter, and a good asset to the army. Still, with such a deep-rooted hatred of Xadia, especially in Amadahy's commander, General Amaya, Rhun wasn't sure what they would do to her if anyone ever found out just what had happened during her time of disappearance.

There were rumors, of course. There were bound to be when a female soldier disappears by the Xadian border for a little over a year, and comes back with a newborn child. Rumors that made people look at him out the corner of their eyes. Rumors that made even General Amaya, who knew Rhun after being friends as well as sisters in arms with his mother for as long as she had, stare at Rhun sometimes with a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

Rhun suspected even if he did have friends, or decided to join the army like his mother, he'd always stand on his own. How was it one could be surrounded by people and yet feel so alone?

He weaved in and out of the crowd, trying to reach the shop a few feet away. Just as he was about to enter, someone bumped into him, and he stumbled backward. "Hey-"

The snap died on his lips as he saw who it was. In fact, he forgot how to speak completely. A pretty teenage girl with tawny skin, small gold and silver chains and beads decorating her loose black curls and draping over her forehead, nodded to him, her dark eyes dancing as they looked him over. She had an exotic look about her, clearly not from the small village, or the kingdom of Katolis in general, even her colorful clothing setting her apart, a bright blue cloak tied around her shoulders, but she carried herself like she wasn't that different after all. "Sorry," she said, a lilt to her voice before walking off.

Wordless, Rhun waved bye. "It's alright..." he finally said after she was probably a foot or so out of earshot.

"Dude, she just totally robbed you," a young man snickered into his ear as he passed. Almost instantly, Rhun snapped out his reverie at the sudden enlightenment and checked for his pouch at his hip, finding only empty space where it had been.

He looked up to see the hood of the girl's bright blue cloak pulled up over her head as it disappearing into the crowd. "Hey, thief!" This time, she turned at the sound of his voice, alert. And of course, like any sane person, she ran.

He raced after her, dodging people and pushing through until with a groan, he leapt onto a sign post and swung up onto the roof of a nearby store, running along and jumping from roof to roof as he followed her. Some people watched, some people even cheered the girl on, and stepped out the way as they laughed in amusement. Which probably meant this was a regular thing for her. And she had never been caught.

Well, time to put an end to that streak.

Right as she turned into an alley, Rhun jumped off onto the street so he landed before her, and without missing a beat for her to run off again, he grabbed the collar of her cloak and lifted her clean off the ground as he brought her to his eye level. Considering her predicament and the fact her feet were dangling almost a foot off the ground, she seemed somewhat calm if not slightly surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"Thief," he said. It was more a statement than an accusation this time.

"Brilliant observation," the girl retorted with more than a healthy dose of sass for someone in her situation. "I suppose you'll be wanting your money back now?"

"That would be nice, unless you want me to turn you in to the guards? Prison sound fun to you?" Rhun asked with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, but dug into her pockets and tossed his pouch at the ground between them. In return, he dropped her unceremoniously, and grabbed the bag, taking a small set of bells from his pocket and tying them on to the straps in case the girl tried anything a second time. "Can't blame a girl for trying to get your attention," she shrugged.

"You can when her method is robbing that person blind." He looked her over, no longer blinded by her initial beauty to notice the details. Besides her cloak, she wore a white blouse with long flowing sleeves, a vibrant teal sash tied across her hips, decorative coins hanging from the hem, and a long, rich purple skirt that reached a few inches above her ankles, making her speed all the more shocking and the fact she didn't stumble even once. A simple cuff ornamented her wrist, and a silver chain was wrapped loosely around her left ankle, small charms dangling from it. It was then he realized he'd seen that type of style before. "You're one of those-"

"Gypsies?" she finished in a sour tone, hands on her hips. "Personally, I prefer the term Romani, but yes."

After staring at her a moment, Rhun thought of all the things he'd heard about gypsies-or Romani as she had called it. He knew they were basically a group of humans shunned by others because of their lifestyle and things told about them in general. He'd heard how they were a nomadic people who never did well within stone walls. He'd also heard that they were often thought to be criminals, thieves and liars, not to mention naturals at dark magic. A common saying around most kingdoms were that you could never trust a gypsy. Yet, weren't there same things told about humans to elves, or others about elves to humans? And wasn't it true that most didn't even truly apply to most of either races?

He fished out a small amount of coins from his pouch, and after gathering them into his hand, held it out toward her. Her eyes widened at the gesture, clearly not expecting this turn of events. Then they narrowed. "I don't want your pity," she snapped.

"It's not pity. If you're stealing, you probably need it more than I do," Rhun shrugged. After a long moment staring at him, probably trying to tell whether what his intentions were, she moved. Hesitantly, she inched forward and snatched the money, putting it into her pocket.

"Thanks," she said reluctantly, taking a step backwards. "You have four fingers."

Eyes widening, Rhun quickly hid his left hand behind his back. "Four fingers?!" he squeaked, giving a shaky laugh. Of course, his bad luck knew no bounds. He just had to be left handed. "That's-that's ridiculous! See-" he held out his right hand, wiggling all five fingers-"All five, here and accounted for! "

The unimpressed look she sent his way told him how much she bought his lie. But she didn't push. "Alright, but you should know, less talking and convincing makes it sound more believable." She turned, but flashed him a small smile as she made to leave. "You know, you're a fool. But a sweet fool."

"Thanks? I think."

"Maybe you'll see me around." As she left, she pulled her hood up again, she called over her shoulder, "If you ever come looking for me, ask for Tzipora." And with that, she was gone. And he would see her again, of course, many times afterward in fact. Ironic how such a meeting could evolve into something between them.

Perhaps it was because they both knew what it meant to not really belong anywhere. Maybe because they both knew how it was to feel alone even with people you love. Maybe because it didn't hurt so bad to be alone together. Maybe because even if they couldn't tell each other exactly why, they understood each other, and allowed the other to speak of their past and troubles in time when they wanted. People had a habit of thinking their love a strange one.

And really, how was that different than most? It wasn't that much stranger than anybody else by much.

After all, stranger things had happened. Rhun was proof of that.