Guests wandered around the lavish ballroom of Theraldon Keep. Lord Bastine Theraldon strolled through his guests, nodding to the dignitaries and twisting his reddish mustache.

"Bastine, old chap, where is your lovely wife this evening?" A young black haired man said, approaching casually. The red haired man looked to the staircase.

"Ah William, I believe she may be helping Khymarah get ready." William Bryan made a sympathetic face and swirled his brandy.

"I see. Young Miss Theraldon had a rough semester. The other children are not very tolerant." Bastine stiffened, brown eyes narrowing.

"I am quite sure I do not know what your talking about." William said nothing.

----

"Just wear the blue one." Lady Anisine Theraldon said in a falsely convincing tone, pushing an embroidered eye patch into the young ruby haired girls hands. Khymarah frowned down at it.

"But Mother, I will look ridiculous." An exasperated sigh escaped the black haired woman's lips and she looked at Khymarah with stern green eyes.

"You are eleven years old Khymarah, and I am your mother! Now do as I have told you!" The child stared dully at her hands.

"Yes Mother." Rising with a curt nod as Khymarah put the patch on, Anisine plastered on a smile.

"Alright! Lets go!"

----

Some people stared, some laughed behind their hands. A lot of them whispered to each other. Their was no denying the child was pretty, but the eyes...

Khymarah sat quietly in a corner of the room, trying to blend into the furniture. She'd removed the patch and threw it in her lap. A small group of children approached her,led by an older orange haired girl. They werer giggling and elbowing each other. The older girl smirked down at Khymarah.

"I heard your really a wick." The ruby haired girl looked at her with dual colored eyes. Some of the children gasped and pointed.

"I'm not!" She said, hurt. The orange haired girl continued.

"My Father says your Mother must have tumbled around with the local tailor, and that your nothing but a dirty, filthy wick. That your...impure." Khymarah shook her head.

"I'm not impure!" But the other children had already taken to the word.

"Impure!" They laughed pointing at her.

"Go home wick!" Crying, Khymarah fled from the chair, towards her mothers form. Anisine looked down at her with a small panic starting in her chest.

"What the clock? Khymarah?" The girl held her hand and looked up at her with her uncovered eyes.

"They called me impure." She cried, wanting a sympathetic ear, a friendly word. A comforting embrace. The woman blushed and looked around at her guests. With a titter, she shook the girl off.

"Excuse me." She said sweetly, grabbing Khymarah by the arm and storming out to an unoccupied room. She spun the girl and leaned down into her face.

"How dare you embarrass your family like that!" Her voice hissed, full of venom. Khymarah cried, tears streaking her young cheeks. Anisine pushed her away in disgust.

"Why couldn't you be normal? What did we do for Alioe to curse us like this. Just...just go upstairs and stay in there!" The red head turned and walked slowly upstairs to her room, crying heavily. When she got there she threw herself on the bed and curled up with a pillow, wishing herself out of existence.

Some birthday.