With a gasp and a jerk, he awoke, staring up at the canopy of his bed and trembling minutely. That dream again… Where was it coming from, and Goddess, why wouldn’t it leave him alone? Almost every night, now, for at least a year, it had plagued him. It certainly wasn’t unpleasant, but it was frustrating. Was that man real, or just a figment of his love-starved imagination? He seemed real; he was too solid, his features too detailed for him to be merely a fantasy. But that would have to mean he had seen this man somewhere in the Colony, right? And he couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone who even resembled his dream lover…

Sophian groaned and rolled onto his side to stare at the clock. Four in the morning. Good gods… But there would be no more sleep for him tonight – he knew that from past experience. So, reluctantly, he sat up and threw back the covers. No need for a light. His elven blood provided him with excellent night sight, and the dim glow from the city outside was more than enough for him to see by. The lithe little half elf moved to the window, lightly dropping his hands onto the wide sill and staring out over the garden of his parents’ manor house. A high stone wall separated the estate from the rest of the Colony; to step through the gates and onto the property was to step into another world, a world straight from old France, with cobbled walks; old, gnarled trees; and Victorian buildings. There were no stables or kennels, of course, because where would you use horses or hunting dogs out here?

You’d hardly believe we were on a prison colony, Sophian thought. Mother and Aulaire worked so hard to conceal the fact that that’s exactly where we are. But why come here in the first place? His brow furrowed in thought. Why, indeed. As far as he knew, his stepfather, Monsieur Aulaire Malliux, had no connections with anything that had to do with crime. But then, Aulaire – and the rest of Sophian’s family – worked very hard to keep him out of family business as much as possible. The youth’s lips twisted into a wry smile. He was not complaining.

To look at him, one would not believe that Sophian Coeur could be related to this family. Even his mother was vastly different from him. About the only thing they shared were their eyes, which were almond shaped and a misty green.

The Malliuxes were tall and wiry, with dark hair and eyes. Very brooding, really. His mother, Bergerette, was decidedly plump, with cornflower hair and a horsey face. Sophian, on the other hand, was small and slender, with a head of silvery, silky hair that most women would kill for, and a personality as beautiful as the rest of him. He seemed human – except for that hair – but the truth was, he was only half. His father was a moon elf lord, and, thankfully, Sophian had taken after him.

Sophian’s heart tightened as he thought of his father. Lord Elywyn had passed away when Sophian was only four, leaving the boy devastated. The two of them had always been very close. As he reached up and touched a rounded and entirely unelven eartip, his sardonic smirk returned. His mother had hated his father, and so, in turn, hated him.

Theirs had been an arranged marriage. While Elywyn was prepared to make the best of the situation, and try to be happy, Bergerette refused to cooperate any more than she had to, and nursed a deep resentment for the elf, even though the marriage had not been his idea. She became even more discontented when she became pregnant, and even though Elywyn tried to please her – at least a little bit – by giving their son a French name, she continued to detest the both of them. But she never actively displayed that loathing to Sophian, not while his father was there to protect him.

But while Elywyn and Sophian had each other, life seemed idyllic. But then, abruptly, the elflord took ill and died. At the time, Sophian believed what he was told, that his father had caught a rare disease that only affected elves. But as he grew, he realized what a ridiculous story that was, and that it was far more likely that Elywyn had been poisoned. He certainly wouldn’t put it past his mother to try something like that.

Again he touched his eartip and closed his eyes. He had been born with pointed ears, much like his father’s, but just after Elywyn’s death, his mother had had them surgically altered, as if to try and erase any memory of Sophian’s elven blood. But nothing could erase the young half elf’s delicate grace and fey beauty. So Bergerette shunted him off into a corner, so to speak, and ignored him as much as possible.

Bitch, Sophian spat mentally. I wonder if Father knew how much you hated us… or how much you were doing behind his back… For Bergerette had been having an affair for several years before Elywyn’s death, and only four months after he passed away, married her lover. Thus Sophian gained a stepfather and two stepbrothers, both older than he. Not that it mattered much. They disliked him almost as strongly as his mother did. But none of them dared turn him out or abuse him too much, or they would have had the entire elven Court down on their heads. But if they were careful, if they were subtle, they could escape notice.

With a sharp shake of his head, he firmly told himself to stop dwelling on those things. He wouldn’t have to deal with them much longer anyway. Already he was working on getting away. He had made many powerful friends in the Colony, right under his parents’ noses, and soon he would be able to escape and make his own way in the world.

Sophian was a master flute player, and several influential Houses seemed constantly competing to get him to perform in their courts. Quite apart from that, however, he was also an accomplished mage. He kept the fact hidden, for the most part, and his study had been mostly for simple amusement and possible defensive needs. But, like almost all elves, magic suited him, and was almost ridiculously easy for him to learn. And it, along with his musical talents, had led him to meet the man who would possibly get him out of his current situation.

Jayson Helgarth… Hrm… an odd one, that. Goddess knows he interested in me, and not just on a professional or friendly level. But there’s just something about him that always makes me… uneasy. The silver-haired half elf suppressed a shudder and shook his head once more. No. He would not turn to Jays unless he had absolutely no other choice. So what did that leave? Very little, at the moment. But there was no use dwelling on it right now. Sophian raked his fingers through his hair, wincing as he hit a tangle, and proceeded to go about the business of getting ready for the day.