Chapter 5: The Life of a Newborn

Elliott was an ordinary boy. Laima said that he was almost 10 years old this year. He had very beautiful hair. He liked his hair, long, white and gleaming. But Laima scolded him anytime he strolled outside the farmhouse without his cap. She always pointed a finger and said: “Don’t you ever show your beautiful hair to anyone but me, Elli. Okay? They would be so jealous of you and try to cut your hair. You wouldn’t want that, right? So, we have to tuck our hair into this cap every time. Right, Elli.” Then, Elli responded with a short nod and put on his cap. He knew Laima was hiding him, he knew people outside were dangerous and would harm him. But he didn’t know why. He also didn’t know why he couldn’t step outside the boundaries of the farm.

One of his earlier days at the farm, he met a person while he was sitting on the porch, enjoying the feel of the grass on his skin. A girl who looked close in age smiled at him near the farm. Elliott waved his hand to her and she waved back. Even before he realized he was moving, he reached the end of the farm, close to her, shouting, “Hey! Heeey! Wait.” He felt a little silly. But the girl’s smile grew wider and she waited.

When Elliott was in earshot she said, “Hey to you! You’re new here, right?” Curiosity sparked in her eyes. “Never seen you before and I use this path every day. And your hair looks weird,” she added, showing her two sloppy braids. “Why does it look like that? Is it a disease? My mother says so. Hmm?”

“Umm… I… I don’t know. I was born with it, I guess. Why does your hair look like that? Are you sick too?”

The girl tightened her grip on her braids hanging low on her shoulders. She chuckled mockingly. “No. I’m normal. Nobody has white hair. No one. Did they dye it? Your parents? Hmm?”

“No. I said I was born with it.”

“And I said you can’t be. No. There’s no way.”

“But I did. Never saw my hair in any other color.”

She sighed. “Ugh, but Mama knows everything and she said you are abnormal. Your hair shouldn’t be white. That’s not how nature works.”

“How do you know how nature works? How does it work?” Elliott said, tears welling under his eyes.

“Hah, of course I know, because Mama knows.” She stuck out her tongue and ran away.

Elliott was astonished. His eyes began to fill with tears, his nose itchy, his throat unable to swallow. After that day, Elliott constantly stayed in the house. The girl sometimes looked through the windows or talked loudly with her friends when she passed by. Elliott didn’t like it. He didn’t do anything wrong and he loved his hair. He now knew why Laima never allowed him to go outside. He wasn’t the dangerous one; others were.

So yes, he knew bad people. Yes, he knew he was abnormal. And yes, he knew he was born like this. Nothing could change that.

He only knew Laima until he met the well-dressed lady who held him when he was scared. That lady had a soothing voice and a tender touch. Elliott felt safe with her. And when Laima left him in the darkness for weeks or months, he didn’t know the difference, she didn’t return to the house. Elliott was scared and alone, and he couldn’t figure out how to light up the house. So he took the hand of the elegantly dressed lady and let her take him to her castle. The lady was fond of searching about him. They told him that she spent countless days somewhere Elliott couldn’t see, just to learn about his whereabouts. He was glad that someday he could understand himself a little bit more.

In the castle, first he became friends with the pink-dressed lady called Ami. She treated Elliott as if he were the prince of the land. She brushed his hair daily, tucked him into his bed, and helped him find his way around the castle. She was elated every time Elliott spoke. She beamed and talked faster and faster, dumping information after information. It was hard to catch up regardless, but it was okay. Elliott still loved her. They were friends, as Ami said.

On his third day in the castle, he was granted a huge breakfast with so many different kinds of food he had probably never seen before. Ami was singing under her breath, her voice beautiful. The lights were illuminating the rooms as if the sun were in the sky.

Yes.
 The sky.
 The sun.

Elliott missed those two indescribably. Since he arrived in this Tunnel, he was greeted with nothing but bricks. He remembered the warm touch of the sun and the calming breeze of the wind. He remembered the clouds, the blue of the sky. Everything looked soulless here. How did these people live their lives without knowing the sky? How?

His thoughts were cut off abruptly when the lady of the castle, who Ami told Elliott was the Queen, sat down next to him at the breakfast table. His heart began to beat like the flapping of birds’ wings. He stopped eating the omelette which saddened him even more.

The Queen looked rusty, smelled unpleasant, and had deep shadows under her eyes. Nothing like her previous self. She complained, he apologized. She questioned him but Elliott refrained from answering and acted like he didn’t understand her. At least Ami was still there to comfort him. Then he started to talk with the Queen, though still clumsy while answering. Also, he could not sense the comforting aura coming from her. She was demanding. And she was sure that he came from some Tunnel called the Naturelas… Naturlis… Naturaly? He didn’t know, but she did, so that was okay. But she didn’t have a Nature’s name. Strange.

The only thing he remembered about his origin was standing in front of a lake, shining with different hues of sunlight. It was a serene place, surrounded by long-branched willow trees, where birds’ chirping mixed with the muted sound of the wind and sunlight reflected off the river and touched Elliott’s face. And a voice telling him, whispering his name: “De’Marken. Right, Prince Elliott?”

The Queen left him alone after this brief inquiry. Elliott quickly thanked Ami for her efforts and left the kitchen to go tinker in his room. After a bit of crying and a bit of thinking, he slowly shut his eyes to sleep.

The very next day, as he rose from his warm and cozy bed, he imagined every spectacular thing he could do in this enormous castle. Quickly he ran to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his hair. He tied his hair into a neat ponytail. Since there was no mirror, he used a metal serving tray to fix his hair. When he was sure nothing was wrong with it, he ran up to the wardrobes to pick his clothes. He was basically living here now. Laima wasn’t coming to get him and he was too bored to stay in the room Queen Iselda had given him. The last few days he resisted talking with the Queen, but now he didn’t care anymore. Because Queen Iselda was back to her health and previous self. She treated Elliott with care and affection, often hugging him and joking with him. So, he felt special and safe with her.

He was searching through various kinds of clothing Queen Iselda bought for him, picking some of them to see if they fit him right. While rummaging through a drawer, his hand accidentally came into contact with a hard object. Curious, Elliott reached for it. The object reflected Elliott’s neatly tied white hair and his surprised expression. A mirror?

But Ami told him there were none in these lands anymore.

After some thought, Elliott tried to put the mirror back where he had found it, more discreetly. He loved looking in that mirror, loved his hair, which no one else could love and considered dangerous, so why should he be deprived of it?

He placed the mirror under a few clothes, carefully removed the most suitable ones from another drawer, and began to dress. His mind was still on the mirror. He had been wandering the castle grounds and halls but couldn’t focus on anything. He hadn’t enjoyed this day very much. Over lunch, he started asking Ami questions about mirrors.

“Ami, why are mirrors risky? Why don’t you have any of them? There were mirrors at Laima’s house.” said Elliott, swinging his legs back and forth in the chair he was sitting on. 

“The Queen thinks they’re enchanted with an evil power, that’s why, Elli.”

“I don’t think so. Why would they enchant mirrors? It’s ridiculous.” he spat. 

“Why not? A queen can spend a lot of time looking into a mirror. Perhaps it’s the easiest way to reach her.”

“Still ridiculous,” Elliott said, frowning.

He didn’t get the answer he wanted from Ami. So he quickly said goodbye to her and headed towards his room. On his way back to his room he saw the door to Queen Iselda’s chamber ajar. He slowly approached the door. He was curious. He wanted to question Iselda. Why would anyone hate mirrors? Did she own one in her room? He thought banning the usage of the mirrors was ridiculous and wanted to know the reason. He reached the door and gently pushed it open. There was a gigantic bed with wooden posts on all four corners standing at the center of the room. The windows reached up to the ceiling, and on the ceiling, green paisley designs drew attention to themselves. The room overall felt cozy and orange, like the sun. He scanned the room for the Queen but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Then his eyes fell on the white morning glories in a crimson vase adorning the Queen’s left side of the bed. They were from Laima’s farm. They were from his lands. They were his. He didn’t know when he would have the chance to see them again, so he attempted to steal one from the vase. He tiptoed toward the vase, plucked one stem of the flower, turned around, and ran.

When he reached his room, he shut the door loudly. His heart at his throat, throbbing fervently, he leaned at the door, both hands on his side. After a long quiet moment filled with his breathing, he slowly moved away from the door he had been leaning against so tightly, and intended to put the flower next to his bed but then realized that it was too risky. He had literally stolen something from the Queen. She could throw him into the streets again.

So, he decided to put the flower next to the mirror. He opened the drawer and settled the flower beside the mirror. A little nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. He closed the drawer and the lights, and turned back to his bed, trying to sleep, but he felt rather uncomfortable. It felt like he was suffocating under layers of clothes.

He straightened up on his bed and considered getting the flower out of the drawer. Slowly, in the dim room illuminated by streetlights, he reached the drawer. He put the clothes aside neatly and picked up the flower from where he had placed it. It felt so delicate in his hand. It was elegant.

Elliott lay down on his bed, turned to his right, and looked at the flower in his hand. Yes, he could breathe easier now. With the streetlights behind him, the gentle sounds echoing through the castle, and his gaze fixed on the flower, he fell asleep.

In his sleep, he saw himself fully grown. His white hair now reached the full length of his spine and had two braids in the front, woven with a lock of hair. A huge sword, sharp enough to harm anyone who came before it, hung from the left side of his waist. He looked confident. He was brave. His future self-looked truly promising. 

He would be just like him one day. 

One day…