Usually it was foggy, but this time, everything was clear. Normally, Frey saw himself from third person- but this time he was seeing with his own eyes. Or... rather, as close as he could to his own eyes when he was in a dream. Most frightening of all was that Frey was splashing around in a sea of thick black water. Or, judging by the way it felt, was more tar than water. The prince struggled to stay afloat. 

Soon, the tar began to burn into his skin. He screamed, but in reality barely made a peep. His skin began to bubble, as if someone was pouring hot oil onto it. "You know not what true suffering is... Prince Frey...." Chorused several deep voices in sync. He felt something wrap around his leg and pull him down, screaming all the while. And then... he stopped. 

Why bother struggling? The outcome would be the same. Frey felt a deep sense of insignificance. There was no point in struggling. No matter what, he would always be cursed. No matter what, he would always be seen as a monster... a brat. Even in his nightmare he could hear Augustine and Cassius' angry voices, telling him never to come back. There was no point in disobeying... The tar began to smite him, and Frey didn't so much as twitch. 

And then there was clarity. To hell with this 'acceptance' bullshit! He was the one and only Prince Frey! He who had enough guts to disobey the king, and who survived every night, despite the fact he met monsters. He had never been one to lie down and take it, so why start today? That was just who he was- a rebel, a fighter, a prince. Flailing frantically, Frey registered the pain, but fought anyways. It wasn't long before he began blinking his eyes open, feeling wet. 

Frey's skin was normal, and he wasn't in any pain. However, he was soaked in water. Had it rained again? Frey's orange eyes met gleaming golden ones. The prince flinched as he took in the strange creature. Though appearing an nearly every aspect a boy no older than he was, he had shadowy grey skin and sharp fangs. His hair was a shiny white color. Most distinct were the big pointy ears the other male had. He wore a tunic of some sort and in his hands held an upside down urn. It was then Frey realized that this thing- whatever it was- had poured water on him. 

The prince jerked up, eyes aflame and fists clenched. "You little shit! You drenched me!" He shouted. The other boy flinched and backed away a little, but kept his stony expression. Then, Frey realized something. If this male hadn't poured water on him, then he would still be trapped in a nightmare. His gaze softened and Frey flushed from embrassment. "Ah, thank you. I apologize..." He said as regally as he could. The other male only nodded. 

Then he touched their hands together and Frey heard a voice echo in his mind. [I]Happy to be of assistance, your majesty...[/I] It was a very deep voice, one that the male didn't look like he had. "You're an elf, correct? Do you live in this forest?" The elf drew back his hand and shook his head. Frey noticed how dirty the almost black elf was. "Then... why are you here?" 

The elf stared at him for a painfully long time, and looked like he was going to cry then, suddenly, he spoke. His voice was much more youthful and not as deep as his telepathic voice. His words were duty and unsure, as if he hadn't spoken for a long, long time. "I... am a dark elf... your kind helped the white elves destroy us..." Frey's eyes lit up in realization. That's right, the human kingdoms drove the dark elves into the northern countries, to where they could not survive. They weren't built for such things. The dark elves scattered into different parts of the world, in hiding... 

"Then why the hell did you help me?" Frey demanded rudely, not caring about being kind. The elf, who was roguishly handsome in a scary kind of way, shurgged emotionlessly. "You... needed... help... and I .... I want a favor from you...." Frey scoffed, but his eyes were soft. "Will you... will you... Will, you..." The elf couldn't seem to get it out, frustratedly, he touched his hand to Frey's once more. "Will you give us a home?" 

Frey was silent. "I'm not the king, I'm only a prince."

"But surely you will inherit the crown." The young man laughed weakly. 

"Not likely, elf,"

"My name is Sverre. You smell of royal blood." 

"I am Prince Frey. And I make no promises, dark elf. After all, it was your kind who released a plague into my kingdom centuries ago."

"That has nothing to do with you and me." 

Frey bit his lip. "Alright, I'll think about it. But that's even considering that I become king." Then, yanking his hand free, Frey began to walk away. Sverre began laughing hoarsely before catching up and laying a palm on Frey's back. "Your highness, do you honestly believe that you are capable of traversing the forest alone? If you are unsure, you are in dent to me. The curse you are under is very visible to me. If you promise to give me and my people a home, I will serve as your guardian." Frey rolled his eyes mockingly. 

"And what would I need a guardian for?" He asked, unsure if Sverre could protect him from his nightmares. 

"You are a poorly behaved prince. You will need me if you even hope to inherit the crown." Frey bit his lip, but saw where the dark elf was coming from. "I see. Alright, I'll let you tag along." He said, akin to his nature, rudely. Then, the dark elf perked up, as if he heard something. "Frey, I hear someone calling you." 

"Take me to whoever it is. " He demanded, feeling ready for anything.