Kurt leaned onto the window seal of his tower; looking across the land it was so beautiful. Florescent green grass covered the ground and the hills and there were big gorgeous trees as far as the eye could see. It was a beautiful summer day; the sky was bright blue and full of white clouds that resembled cotton candy. He leaned forward a bit, looking down to the bottom of his tower, which was well over a hundred feet down. There was a small animal pouncing around in the little purple and yellow flowers that popped up from the ground. Birds sang along with the running water of the small stream below. He let out a small sigh. He knew his mother would be home soon and he'd have to stop day dreaming about the day he could leave. He was really, really hoping that tomorrow could be that day, considering it was his eighteenth birthday. Kurt had been in this tower as long as he could remember. His mother warned him of the dangers of the world and all of the hateful, horrible and scary things that just waited beyond those trees. She would tell him that she's just trying to protect him by keeping him here, because she loved him so much. She also wouldn't let him cute his hair, ever. He hadn't cut it in his whole life. Because it's magic, literally, magic. Well, if he sings the magic song, then it's magic. It also glows. And if it were to be cut, it turns brown and loses its power. He has one strand in the back layer of his hair where someone had tried to cut it, to take his power. That's when his mother moved them to this tower. That's what she's told him. And that's one of the reasons she won't let him out. His hair stretched from his head all the way down the tower, and then some. It was the longest he had ever seen a boy have. Not that he'd ever seen a boy, but he knows from books.

Kurt felt something crawling up his arm, onto his shoulder. The little green creature made a small noise.

"I know, Pascal. But mother is never going to agree to it. Just watch."

Pascal made a sighing noise.

"I'm scared to ask her," Kurt confessed quietly. "But I know I have to try. What if she does say yes? Then we'll get to explore!" He smiled. "Maybe even start a life out there!"

Despite all the horrible things his mother warned him about, he knew there had to be good out there. Fun, exciting things. He often wondered what that florescent green grass felt like, what it would be like to splash in the stream. To actually see the kingdom that his mother sometimes talked about. He turned to the inside of his tower, looking up at the gallery of paintings he had done over the years. His eyes found their way to one painting imparticular. The one that was him, sitting on the hills watching the floating lights fly up to the sky like they did on his birthday each year. He wanted nothing more than to see the floating lights up close and personal. He couldn't help but feel that somehow, some way, they were meant for him. Then never appeared on any other day of the year, just his birthday. "Please, please, please." He whispered to himself.

"Kurtsie!" His mother called from down below. Pascal dashed towards the flower pot sitting on the ledge, hiding himself in the leaves.

"Coming, Mother!" He scurried to pick up the ends of his hair.

"Come on, Kurtsie! I haven't got all day!" She called again. "Kurt!"

He threw a loop of his hair over the pull system he had created and with a big thrust of his arms; he tossed the rest of his hair out of the window, letting it flow all the way down. Once his mother was set, he pulled her up, up, up. All the way up.

"Kurt, honestly. I don't know why that takes so long for you to do that, you've done it for how many years?" His mother bruited once she was inside. She walked over to the table, laying her basket down.

"Sorry, mother." He looked down.

She sighed, turning to him. "Don't look so sad, Kurtsie! Mommy loves you!" She patted him under his chin. "Oh, darling. Gettin' a bit chubby, aren't we?"

"Mother…"

"I'm just saying, cause I love you."

"Yes, I know. Mother, I have something pretty important to ask you."

"I've brought parsnips; I'm making Hazel nut soup." She ignored him completely.

"Great, mother. But as I was saying tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday and I…"

His mother sighed. "What are you babbling about, Kurt? Spit it out."

"I really want to go see the floating lights." He said quickly. "Mother, it is my eighteenth birthday and I've never left and-"

"The stars?" His mother just chuckled. "Oh, Kurtsie. No, no. It is far too dangerous. No, no. "

"I don't think they're stars. And I know you think it's dangerous, but mother, it's just this once and-"

"Kurt. I said no." She said a bit stern.

"But, Mother-"

"I said NO, Kurt. You are never leaving this tower, ever!" She shouted, hatefully. "Mother knows best!"

It felt like he had been hit in the stomach. Never? As in…never? He looked down at the floor, tears stinging his eyes. He knew it was a long shot that she'd let him leave right now, but he figured eventually he'd be able to leave. But never?

"Oh great, now I'm the bad guy." His mother sighed dramatically. "Now, come on, Kurt, there must be something you want that you can actually have."

He just sighed, thinking for a moment. He looked up and around the tower. He was going to die here. No. No, he wasn't going to. He wouldn't allow it. "New paint, from the shells you once brought me?" He asked quietly.

His mother groaned. "That's almost a three day trip."

"Please?" He squeaked.

"Fine. Pack me a basket, I'll leave today. I should be back in three days' time."

He nodded, quickly fixing her a basket of food. She put on her cloak, giving a quick kiss to Kurt's forehead. "You'll be okay while I'm gone?" She asked before stepping up onto the window.

"As long as I'm here, I'm safe." He said, sounding like a programed robot. He gave her a loving hug. He did love her; she was his mother after all. She's just trying to protect him.

Once his mother was gone, Kurt paced the tower. "Come on, Pascal, help me think! How can we get to see the floating lights?"

Pascal just made an I-don't-know noise.

…

After an hour of planning, the clock showed it was eleven in the morning. Kurt had moved his bed and was sketching out plans on the floor, trying to figure out how to do this safely.

All of a sudden there was a crash down stairs; it startled both Kurt and Pascal. Thinking it was his mother, Kurt quickly pushed the bed back into place and Pascal got up on his shoulder, hiding behind his hair. Kurt tip-toed to the curtains that acted as his bedroom door and peeked through them. He noticed a dark figure peering out of the tower window. "Oh my god." Kurt whispered. He stepped quietly but quickly down the stairs, grabbing an iron frying pan off of the kitchen counter, he rushed over and without another thought he hit the man on the head, knocking him clean out. The man fell to the floor with a thud, along with a bag he was holding. Kurt kneeled down, picking up the bag, inside was a crown, a real golden crown. Kurt let out a small gasp. "Wow," He hurried upstairs, hiding the bag in his room, in a small crevice behind his bed. He ran back down stairs.

"Oh my god, Pascal. Oh my god." He breathed heavily, looking down at the man in front of him. He bit his lip, taking in the man's figures. He had dark, short, hair that had a gentle curl to it, a handsome jawline that a five-o'clock shadow lightly touched, and dark bushy eyebrows. Kurt smiled a bit. The guy was certainly nice looking. But he couldn't be here to do any good, right? No, no. Kurt rushed around, gathering up his hair. He tossed it up and over one of the wooden beams above and when it fell down he quickly tied it around the man's ankle. He pulled his hair and hoisted the man up, he was hanging upside down.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." He repeated, bouncing a bit. "Okay, what am I going to do now? How do I wake him up?"

Pascal made a noise and pointed his tail towards the man. Indicating he wanted to go closer. He crawled into Kurt's hand and Kurt let him get close to the man's face. Pascal slapped the man on the face with his tail, nothing. Pascal then thrust his tongue out, sticking it in the man's ear. The man startled awake and Kurt and Pascal jumped back a foot or two.

"Whoa! What the-" He looked around frantically, coming to. "Oh!" He looked up to his foot and around. "Is that hair?" His eyes wandered down to the boy standing in front of him. "Oh, Hello." He smirked. "How you doing?"

Kurt's eye's caught the stranger's; they were a warm hazel color. Kurt felt something poke at him inside. He just shook his head. "Who are you?"

"Uh," The guy chuckled. "Why am I upside down? And where's my satchel?"

"I believe I asked who you were." Kurt sassed.

"Andy. The name's Andy." He smirked.

"Andy. Why are you here? Are you here for my hair?"

Andy raised his eyebrow. "Um, no. I want my satchel. Why would I want your hair?"

"Why are you here, then?"

"Look, some guys were chasing me, I saw a tower, and I climbed it to get to safety. That's it. Will you just give me my satchel?"

Kurt looked to Pascal. Pascal growled lowly. "What?" Kurt whispered. "I think he's telling the truth."

"I am!"

Pascal and Kurt exchanged looks again. Pascal made a small noise. Kurt just nodded.

"Okay, listen here, Andy. Here's the deal. Do you know the floating lights that fly every year?"

"The lanterns they let go for the Prince? Yeah, of course."

"I knew they weren't stars!" Kurt whispered to himself. "I need you to take me to see them, and then I'll give you your satchel."

The man chuckled. "Look, the palace and I aren't exactly best friends at the moment. So I won't be taking you anywhere."

Kurt frowned, raising the pan as if he was going to hit Andy again.

"Okay, okay, okay! Wait! I'll take you, just stop with the pan! And can you untie me? Please?"

"Fine. But if you try anything funny…" He held up the pan.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. You know how to use that."

Kurt let go of his hair with a smirk, letting Andy fall to the floor. Andy groaned while both Kurt and Pascal snickered.

…