Shion wasn't supposed to be a prince. According to his step father, the king, he was pale and sick and nothing to look up to. Shion looked into the mirror, mounted to the wall of his lavish chambers. He wondered at how a skinny twelve year-old could expected to instill fear into an entire nation.

"Before your eighteenth birthday," King Rikiga had said, "You have to prove to me that you can be a strong leader. Otherwise I will revoke the right I gave you to be my heir, and I will banish you to the slums of society in the West District. And not even your mother will be able to save you."

How am I supposed to do that? Shion wondered. Maybe he had six years, but he doubted that he would ever agree with the way that the king ruled. He looked down at himself. Skinny arms, pale skin, white hair. Not to mention the mark like a contracting snake that now wound from his leg to his cheek. How could a boy like him ever be a king?

Shion sighed and walked over to his bed, which he slumped himself across. His head sinking into the fluffy comforter. He stared at the patterns of torch lights dancing on the ceiling. Maybe he would be better suited to prepare himself for a life in the West District instead. Maybe he'd be better at that than being a prince.

After a long moment of mulling over his options, Shion sat up and reached for the pile of books that he'd accumulated beside his bed. Most of them were books on how to be a healer. The job fascinated him, and he liked the idea of helping people who were hurting. This was part of the irony of course. It was just about the furthest thing from what Rikiga wanted.

"Maybe I can learn to be a mean king from books," Shion said, staring at the worn covers resting beside him. "It's how I've learned everything else. Maybe…"

Shion heaved a heavy sigh and pushed off of his bed to head towards the library. If he had any hope of becoming a king, this might just be it.

Running. His feet aching from bare contact with the rough, hard ground. His lungs burning. The air smelled tinny, and dark clouds took the color out of the sky, making the night come early.

How much further? How much further could he go?

He could feel the charred scraps of his shirt rubbing against his bloody back. He could feel the shock of his steps as they shuttered through him.

Not much further.

He thought about giving up now. Maybe the pain would slow if he stopped running. If he was going to die anyway…

There were lights, torch lights, not far ahead and he could see them like bright eyes through the trees.

He could die in the lights.

He kept running.

He cheeks felt wet.

It had started to rain.

It was getting late by the time Shion left the library, but it looked later.

Rain had begun to fall outside and the clouds were thick. It was going to be a rough storm. The wind was already howling against the windows.

Shion made it back to his room, and he felt tired. He felt a heaviness in his shoulders. He hadn't found anything. Nothing that gave him any confidence anyway, and now he felt a tightness in his stomach like he was going to be sick. What was he going to do now?

He closed the door to his bedroom. Resting his back against it as if to keep it from ever opening again. His body started to shake.

He didn't know what he was doing when he strode across the room and threw open the doors of his wide, stone balcony. Sending the wind screaming through the room and bringing the rain against his face. The cool air and icy water doing wonders to calm his stinging nerves.

He could feel it more than ever then. That locked tension in his stomach and his shoulders and his chest. He felt it like pressure trying to crush him from inside.

He wanted the pressure gone. He wanted to feel like he could breath again.

He opened his mouth to take that deep breath, but all that came out was screaming.

A sound. Strange and startling as it broke through the storm from up above.

He was lying in the wet grass, and it took all his strength to lift his head enough to see. A building, massive and stone a few yards away, the source of the light. A square of it was cast out into the darkness around a slim shadow that seemed to writhe as it gripped the stone railing and howled into the wind.

He could barely hear it. Somehow he doubted that anyone else could hear it at all. That there was anyone else out in the storm listening to start with.

It was a cry, and it was music. It was a door, bright and open and calling to him.

Yes, a call. That's what the sound was.

He slipped in the wet grass as he tried to find his feet but he found them. He pushed himself up and he continued forward towards the crying shadow, and the square of light.

Shion took a slow breath, when finally he'd gotten the screaming to stop, and tried to still the shaking in his hands.

He'd gotten lucky. The guards weren't posted outside because of the storm, and the wind had carried away most of the sound. Shion sighed. The tension was finally gone.

Still standing outside on the balcony Shion realized he'd been completely soaked. The rain was still pouring. His hair and clothes plastered to him and his skin felt like ice. He felt nervous about going inside drenched. The maids would want to throttle him if they found out.

Shion resigned, running his hand through his dripping hair, and making it stick up oddly. He made the only decision he could think of. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

He stripped down to his underwear, and scampered inside. Hurrying to his washroom first and grabbing a bundle of towels. One to dry himself with, another to wrap around himself, and a third he planned to use to pick up his clothes when going back for them.

When Shion had just finished drying himself, he wrapped himself in a towel. He had it draped around his shoulders when he exited the bathroom and headed back for his clothes.

What he hadn't expected was what was waiting for him just inside the balcony doors.

Shion froze. He was so started. He thought he must somehow be imagining the soaking wet boy with the long black hair that was standing just inside his bedroom. But when he opened his mouth to say something, the small figure proved him wrong.

Shion grunted, his body getting shoved against the the wall, a hand clenching around his throat. He was too startled to even react. The first thing he noticed when he came to his senses was a pair of sharp steel colored eyes.

"Don't move," said the dark haired boy in a low, rough voice. His eyes narrowing and the hand constricting around Shion's neck. "Don't move."

Shion stared for a moment, unsure of what he was even looking at. Where had this boy come from? He looked about his age. What was a twelve-year-old doing at the castle in the middle of a storm?

That's when Shion's eyes lifted just enough to notice the odd way the boy's shirt seemed to hang off his slender frame. Like there was hardly any back left to it. Then he notice the bright crimson stain spreading forward from the boy's back, right around his rib cage.

"You're—- hurt—-," Shion choked in surprise. "Do you—- need help?"

The dark haired boy's eyes widened in surprise, like those words were the absolute last thing he'd expected.

"I— know a little— about—- medicine and healing. I—- could—- help you—- maybe." Shion was starting to feel a little light-headed. The other boy seemed to notice as his grip around his throat started to loosen and then disappeared all together. Leaving Shion to drop to him feet on the ground.

At the same moment there was a knock at his door.

The hand was back at Shion's throat before he could blink, and he had to struggle not to make a gagging noise at the force.

"I'm not decent," Shion called when he got the boy to loosen his grip a little, "Do you need something?"

"It's time for dinner, Prince Shion," said the high female voice of one of the maids.

"I'm feeling unwell this evening." Shion replied, being sure to let his real exhaustion saturate his words. "Do you think someone could just bring me a plate later on? I need to rest."

"Of course, your grace, I'll inform your mother" The maid replied, audible concern in her voice. Shion wanted to grimace. He didn't love playing into the sick-little-child stereotype. But it earned him privacy as he heard the maid hurrying away.

It took another few seconds for the dark haired boy to finally release Shion to the floor. But when he had, Shion held up his pale arms in surrender and began to move towards the washroom.

"Come with me, okay?" he said as dark silver eyes stared suspiciously at his movements. "I have somethings that might help."

The boy looked reluctant but he followed. Keeping his eyes on Shion the whole time.

It took Shion a few minutes to locate the herbs and bandages he'd stashed. When he had gathered everything he could carry he motioned for the dark haired boy to follow him into his bed room. The boy silently complied.

Shion dumped all the boxes and jars onto his bed and turned around to look at the boy again, only to find himself eyed up and down. Shion frowned. He looked down at himself only to realize he'd dropped his towels when the boy grabbed him, and was now only in his underwear.

"Oh!" Shion squeaked, glacing toward to open balcony and his now totally drowned clothes. "I should—" he moved towards to towels on the floor.

"What are you doing?" The boy demanded. He was beginning to look ashen, and there were shadows under his eyes so dark they were nearly black.

"It'll only take a second," Shion insisted. But the boy grabbed his arm. His eyes narrowing into slits.

Shion's eyebrows furrowed. "Well… all right… then sit on the bed and show me where you're wounded."

The boy frowned.

Shion sighed, flushing dark red, "Come on… you can trust me. It's not like I'm concealing weapons." Shion gestured to his awkwardly exposed body. His chest and arms bare and his lower body covered only in the most vital sense.

The boy seemed to almost smirk at this and released Shion's arm. "Fine."

He moved ahead of Shion to the bed and sat down, but it only took a moment after he hand turned his back on him for Shion to jerk in surprise.

A giant burn covered a huge patch of skin on his back, dripping in blood and his shirt charred black around the edges of it. Shion stared in shock. Who would do this? To a child?

Shion forced himself to move before the boy could catch him staring and sat down behind the boy on the bed.

Thank goodness I studied burn treatment so recently, Shion thought as he settled himself before the wound. He reached for the hem of the boy's shirt.

"I'm sorry but I have to take this off." Shion explained before he even touched him. "I'm going to have to wrap a bandage around you're whole torso."

"It's ruined anyway," The boy replied. He reached for the bottom of his shirt and eased it over his head. Hissing in pain as he shrugged it to the floor.

Shion frowned in concern and reached for his jars.

He found the right ones and pulled out a mixing bowl from his kit before grinding the ingredients together. They made a thick, wet ointment by the time he finished and he began to smooth it into the wound.

The boy tensed. All his muscles locking as Shion tried to spread the treatment.

"Ow!" He complained, trying to shoot a look at Shion. Shion put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts now but this will make it heal faster and hurt less in a few hours. If we don't put it underneath the bandage than it could just get worse."

The boy grumbled a complaint.

"So…" Shion began, half out of curiosity and half as a distraction, "I don't suppose you'd tell me how this happened, would you?"

"How do you think it happened?" The boy sneered, "The war."

"War?" Shion voice was blank confusion. Of course he new there was a war going on. There almost always was, since Rikiga the Conquerer had become king. Right now, the war was against a collection wild tribes living in the south where Rikiga was trying to take claim. Shion had heard bits and pieces of what was happening but for the most part had avoided news. Mostly because it was a grotesque reminder of everything he disliked about his possible future.

The dark haired boy craned his neck to glance over his shoulder "You seem surprised."

"You just seem too young to be a soldier," Said Shion, and he thought he saw the boy smile grimly.

"I'm not a 'soldier'. Not for your side, anyway."

Shion sucked in a breath, "You mean you're from the wild tribes?"

"That's right," the boy replied. Tensing his hand, as if he thought he'd need it for something. "Am I prettier than you expected a savage to be?"

Shion didn't even hear the question, or the threatening undertone to his joke. Instead his mind was whirling with information. The first thing he managed to settle on immediately spilled out of his mouth.

"This is what they're doing to you?"

The dark haired boy's hand stilled. "What?"

"The soldiers…" Shion shook his head as if trying to wake himself. "They're burning children? Innocent people?"

"What are you talking about?" the boy's voice was low and confused, "Why do you sound so appalled? You're the prince aren't you? Don't you know that's what war is? Pain and killing? The victors slaughtering the beaten? Death paying for land, paying for the right to go on fighting?"

Shion shook his head harder, "No."

"It's the truth!"

"I meant no, I'm not like that." Shion snapped, "I'm not a prince. Not really."

"What are you trying to pull?" The boy demanded, "I heard what that servant called you. Not to mention, look at this place! You expect me to believe you're some pauper, with all this?"

"That's not what I meant," Shion's voice was low. He'd moved on to wrapping a bandage around the boy's middle, binding the medicine to the wound and stopping the bleeding. "The king isn't my father. I wasn't born here, I was born in a baker's family. I was only brought here a few months ago when His Highness married my mom. He didn't have a son, so he sort of adopted me but… I'm not a royal, I wasn't raised for this."

There was a silence following Shion's statement. Shion was able to finish wrapping and pinned the bandage closed. He felt relief when he looked at the boy now. His skin looked clean in the white bindings and the muscles in his back seemed to have relaxed.

The boy turned around.

His eyes were bright and almost colorless in the torchlight. He watched Shion with a sort of guarded fascination.

"So… are you saying you aren't going to be the heir then? You're just the king's little pet?"

Shion flinched at that, looked down at the bed. He seemed to have kept it fairly clean of medicine stains and blood.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Shion sighed and started gathering his tools to take them back into the washroom.

"You'll need some clothes. You must be freezing after being out in that rain. You'll get sick—,"

"You're wet too," The boy commented, and Shion winced, putting his things away in the cupboards.

"Yeah I know."

"What were you doing out there anyway?" The boy demanded, still sitting on the bed as Shion returned into view and began picking towels off the floor.

"I was…" Shion bit his lip, "I was trying to—,"

"You were screaming," said the boy helpfully. "Really squalling too. That's sort of a weird pass time, isn't it? Shouting at thunderstorms?"

Shion blushed, "Shut up!" he snapped, throwing a wadded up towel at him.

The boy caught it and chuckled, "You really are strange aren't you? I mean… screaming at storms? Stripping on your balcony? Entertaining strangers in your bed? Do you even realize you haven't asked my name?"

"Don't say it all like that! Besides, I didn't give you mine either," Shion defended himself, blushing fiercely.

"No, your maid did that for you," The boy agreed, "It was Shion, right? Like the flower?"

Shion smiled, having managed to bring his wet clothes in, folded in a towel. He shut the balcony doors before anyone else seemed to notice, "Yeah, my mom loves trees and wildflowers. So what's yours?"

"Nezumi," The boy replied, "But I guess in your language, it'd be Rat."

"I like Nezumi better," Shion decided having taken the clothes to his closet and thrown them in a washing hamper. He was now rifling through his clothes— still somewhat unfamiliar with them— until he found what he we looking for.

"Aha! Here."

Shion tossed something white at Nezumi who caught it and looked at it like something wet and slimy.

"What is this?"

"It's a night shirt."

"What's it for?"

"Men here sleep in them," Shion explained, shrugging into his own. He exited the closet so that he was in view of Nezumi again. The boy instantly started laughing.

"It looks like something a girl would wear!"

Shion blushed again, "Well it's all I've got comfortable enough to sleep in! Besides, you're the one who looks like a girl!"

Nezumi's eyes narrowed as he grinned, and something in them made Shion suck in a breath.

"Hey… what are you—,"

Before Shion knew what happened, Nezumi grabbed him. Throwing him, face down, on the bed, and pinning his arms behind his back. He kneeled over him from behind.

"What was that about me being a girl?" he whispered, low and threatening from behind Shion's ear. He excepted to feel some sense of fear come off the small white haired boy. He was wrong.

"Wow," Shion gasped in amazement, "That was incredible! How'd you do that? Is there some kind of trick to it?"

Nezumi stared, totally dumbstruck, until a wave of laughter broke over him and he fell on to the bed.

"You-," he gasped between laughter, "are insane! Completely crazy! You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" Another bout of laughter.

The feeling was contagious, and Shion started laughing too.

The two of them, had just started to quiet down when there was a knock at the door.

"Master Shion? I have your dinner sir," the voice of the maid said from the other side of the heavy wood. Shion sucked in a breath.

"Hurry, Nezumi, get under the bed clothes." He hissed, wrenching back the blankets and herding Nezumi under them.

Nezumi scrambled, laying flat agains the bed. Shion covered him with thick blankets and rolled under the covers. He laid down, trying to look as weak and tired as possible before shouting, "Come in!" rasp-ily through the door.

The door creaked as the maid came in.

"Oh master look at you!" She gasped as she shuffled in holding a sliver tray piled with food. "You're flushed! Do you have a fever?"

Shion had to bite his cheek to contain his reaction.

"I'm not sure. I just feel tired. If you wouldn't mind just setting to food on the table, I'll get to it after a moment more of rest."

"All right," The maid agreed, setting the tray on the heavy wooden night stand. "Just ring the bells if you need anything, Master."

"Of course. Thank you." Shion agreed with a smile and the maid curtsied before she left.

Only a couple of moments after the door shut Nezumi flipped back the covers and rolled onto his side.

"Those rich people quilts are smothering."

Shion chuckled, "Just sit up and I'll get you something to eat," he said, reaching for the stew that was sitting on the tray. "Here,"

Nezumi eyed it, "Are you sure? That's for—,"

"I get plenty, nowadays." Shion said with a smile, "Take it."

Nezumi sat up and accepted the bowl, slurping the stew into his mouth.

"Ah," he sighed, "This is good stuff."

"Yeah," Shion agree, eating a piece of fruit. "Wait till you try the cake. My mom is still the one who makes it and it's the best."

Nezumi grinned, at some point Shion hadn't noticed he'd manage to put on the night shirt. Draped over his thin frame like that, Nezumi really would have looked like a girl. Were it not for that grin "Sounds tempting. So are you ever going to explain what you meant earlier?"

Shion raised his eyebrows. "About what?"

"About the throne," Nezumi glanced sideways at him. "Is it yours?"

Shion looked down and sighed. "It's complicated."

"I'm not stupid," Nezumi snapped, "I'm sure I can keep up."

Shion shifted his eyes away even further.

"Well…" He picked at the quilt with his finger tips. "You see… Rikiga adopted me when he married my mom. He said that I was enough like her that he could except me as his own instead of seeming me as another man's child. But… not too long ago, I got sick. Some kind of parasite that nearly killed me. It was thanks to some really great healers I was able to live. For some reason though, the treatment caused some sort of… reaction…."

Shion traced his arm subconsciously, where a branch of the red snake mark trailed his skin.

"It changed my appearance too look like this. My brown hair turned white, my brown eyes turned red, and my skin…" Shion reached up to touch the tail of the snake on his cheek.

"I guess something about it made Rikiga think differently about me. He says the way I am now I'm too pale, too sickly to be a strong leader. He says the only way I can succeed at being king is if a can demand enough fear and respect that no one will question me. And if I can't do that before I turn eighteen… than Rikiga with banish me to avoid embarrassment, and I'll live in exile for the rest of my life." Shion closed his eyes, feeling ashamed. He'd never be able to do it. He'd never….

A hand coming to rest on Shion's chin shocked him out of his thoughts as Nezumi turned his face too look at him. Nezumi studied him, as if he were something new and fascinating. His hand sliding up to trace the tip of the snake, where it curved around Shion's cheek, with his thumb.

"I think your looks are sort of charming," Nezumi eyes followed the line of his snake. "In fact I'm jealous. I don't see why you couldn't be an impressive leader, looking like you do now."

As Nezumi spoke he leaned forward. Shion sucked in a breath, but Nezumi only reached past him to grab the plate of cake from the bedside table and then he leaned away again.

"So what do you have to do to prove yourself to Rikiga then?" Nezumi asked as he cut into his cake. "Is there some sort of test?"

"I just have to show him, somehow over the next six years, that I'm the same as him. That I can rule like he does." Shion let out a breath. "But I don't think I can do it."

"Well I confess," Nezumi piped in, "From what I've seen from Rikiga's armies, you two don't exactly seem cut from the same cloth."

Shion closed his eyes in defeat. "I know."

"Wait a minute," Nezumi scolded, "I didn't say that means you should give up."

"But I don't want to be like Rikiga," Shion said, his eyes down cast towards the sheets. "I don't believe in fear and suppressing people. I can't send armies to burn villages or hurt people. I don't want that life. I want to help people. I want to see the world be peaceful, or at least as much as it can be. I want people to be safe and protected by the ones who rule them, not harassed by them." Shion took a breath, somewhere in his ranting his voice had started to rise.

"Did you ever think," Nezumi cut in, placing his empty plate on the table at his side of the bed. "that believing in those things might be the exact reason you should be king?"

Shion shook his head. "Rikiga doesn't want me like this. He said so himself."

"Well sure," said Nezumi, rolling his eyes, "But you aren't going to be king as long as he's alive anyway, right? So it's not like he could stop you from ruling how you wanted."

"But I told you, if he doesn't think I'm like him then I don't get to be his heir." Shion protested.

"So convince him of what he wants to see," Nezumi criticized as if it were obvious, "I mean you only have to trick him into believing it. How hard could that be?"

Shion stared, "Nezumi… I see what you're saying but… I'm not a good liar. Let alone something as big as tricking Rikiga—,"

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that," Nezumi agreed with a grin. "Everything about you screams honest and straight forward. But you've got years to learn. And learning to act might be a better place to put your efforts than learning to change everything about yourself."

Shion stared intently at Nezumi as the boy layed down against the pillows, snuggling into bed. "How am I supposed to learn stuff like that?"

"Well… you like to read, don't you?" Nezumi asked, gesturing to the pile of books at the side of the bed. "Do you ever read fiction? Plays? Adventure stories? Romances?"

Shion shook his head.

Nezumi frowned, "Well start. Besides, you're a prince. You could actually go to the theatre! Watch the professionals do it, learn from their example. Learn how to show people what they want to see. Besides, if nothing else it will at least make you a little more interesting as a person. Stories and plays are the greatest achievements of the soul."

Shion smiled, "Well it looks like I discovered something about you. You love literature."

Nezumi grimaced, "Yeah well, that one's a free be."

Shion laughed.

"I'm freezing," Nezumi complained, bundling himself in blankets and shivering.

"Freezing?" Shion echoed looking around. It felt warm to him.

"Are you still chilled from the rain?" he asked, reaching out to press his hand to Nezumi's forehead. He yanked it back instantly. "You're burning up!"

"It's not that surprising," Said Nezumi, "just let me get some sleep."

"It could be serious!"

"Shion!" Nezumi snapped, reaching up to grab one of Shion's fluttering hands. "We already did your fancy medicine thing. Now it's time to sleep." Nezumi pulled Shion's hand with his until they here both lying at his side. "Besides… I feel better like this. You're warm."

Shion's eyebrows rose and he blushed. He considered checking his books for fever treatments, but seeing Nezumi relax changed his mind. Instead he laid down, tucked them both in and blew out the light, before curling close to the boy beside him and falling asleep.

When Shion woke up the next morning, Nezumi was gone. The balcony doors left unlocked, and half of the bed sheets smoothed and tucked as if no one had ever been there in the first place.

For a wild groggy moment Shion thought that perhaps the whole thing had just been some sort of vivid dream. That is until his noticed a book laid open on Nezumi's side of the bed. He reached for the book and brought it up to see what it was.

It turned out to be a book that he hadn't read yet. A collection of works from a playwright. The page the book was open to was the title page of one of the plays.

The play was called 'Hamlet'.