[color=SlateBlue][b]Quay Lionfury Lighteep[/b][/color] Just after midnight, Quay Lionfury squatted beneath vaulted ceiling of his solar and stuffed and old leather backpack with clothes that did not belong to him. Miniature paintings by the Trances masters hung from the walls, alive in swirls of color and thick-textured paint. Doors to his richly apportioned apartments stood ajar to his eight and left. The entrance of his balcony was open, and through it he could see the thick grey clouds the signified the coming of rain. The clothing at his fingertips were drap, think, woolen. Felt course against his skin compared to the silk and cotton to which he was used to. Next to Quay, a red-haired, freckle-faced five-year-old stood and watched him pack. [color=SlateBlue]"You can help if you want."[/color] Quay said, and the little Colin Galeni, wearing the green doublet of his house, started stuffing white shirts and brown trousers into the pack. Two short swords in worn, frayed sheaths lay next to the clothes. So did a wooden case full of maps and a purse stuffed with coins. [color=SlateBlue]"Did the washer woman ask you why you needed the clothes?"[/color] Quay asked. Colin nodded. [color=SlateBlue]"And what did you tell them."[/color] The boy did not look up from his task. His eyes gleamed green, in the low gray light. "That is wanted to play slum man." [color=SlateBlue]"And what will you say if they ask for them back?"[/color] "I lost them." Quay smiled and tousled his cousins hair. [color=SlateBlue]"Good man."[/color] He said, and Colin beamed. Quay sat back and let his cousin stuff the clothes into the pack. His stomach was unsettled. Had been since he had woken up. The fact of the matter was, he hadn't gotten 3 hours of sleep when he had a woken from a nightmare. His cousin had been in the other room and came in when Quay had began pacing around the room. He rubbed his chest and grimaced. Darkness had sat on his heart until he had woken gasping for air. "Quay?" Quay looked down to find Colin sitting cross-legged on the floor, clothes neatly packed and the leather bag tucked away under his bed. "Why are you leaving?" Quay rubbed his cousins head again. [color=SlateBlue]"Who told you I was leaving."[/color] "I'm not stupid." Quay sighed and raked his hands through his hair, what could he tell him. Quay hated to lie. [color=SlateBlue]"Grown up things."[/color] Colin screwed his face and stamped his feet. Quay shook his head and walked over to were his sword lay, but when he looked back a moment later, the boy was still pouting. Quay sighed. [color=SlateBlue]"Colin, I promise to tell you everything when I get back."[/color] Colin's eyes light up immediately, and grinned so widely that Quay would see his perfect teeth. "You promise?" [color=SlateBlue]"Yes, now run along, but into sleep. My day is starting now anyway.[/color] Quay said, smiling as the bag quickly walked out the door and into his own room. Quay stood and strode through the airy curtains that covered the simeirculur balcony of grey, and looked over the Palace Hills. The problems of the kingdoms weighed heavily upon Quay's mind. Despite still being a Prince, these were his people, his father was occupied with a war that had been going on since the start of time. Quay was preparing for a different situation, although related the war, the clothes were for another. Without much of a warning a guard walked through the door wearing a plumed helmet. "Beg you pardon, my Prince..." the guard began. "I know." said Quay. "My father will need you more today." The guards eyes narrowed. "My prince-" "I'll be fine." Quay said, leaving the balcony only to give the guard a reassuring shoulder shake. "Trust me." The guard stared at him a moment longer, then bowed. "Yes, my prince." He said. The old man withdrew, and Quay heard him talking to another guard as their footsteps moved down the hall. Yes, my prince, he'd say. He always did. Quay let and made his way to the Armory, if could not sleep, he might as well prepared for tomorrow's mission.