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Eli

I won't lie, the past was difficult to recall, but even if it were, I wouldn't have it any other way. Throughout my childhood, present or past, my parents were never loving. They never coddled me as a parent should even when I did do something praiseworthy. They didn't care for me as a parent should. The only parents I had were the countless nannies and butlers both my mother and father sent my way. No, I wasn't a bad kid, at least I hoped not. I tried not to be in their way.

It wasn't that they were bad parents, they didn't hit me. Sure they scolded me for some minor mistakes but, I deserved it. Although I tried to mind their space, I sometimes disobeyed that simple rule.

I tried drawing. I loved: drawing, designing, and sketching. But my mother hated it. She'd lecture me about not wasting our time with such foolish things as showing her my sketches. How I was squandering my time by doodling nonsense.

She told me she had better things to do than stare at some mindless paintings. And she did , she had a whole village to protect and guard, to manage and provide for. So I stopped bothering her with those mindless tasks.

But even then I couldn't be a good son, at least not the one she wanted. I hid them, my drawings because I just couldn't stop. In a way, I suppose the flowing twists and floral decoration on each dress I created was my escape.

A way to forget that I could never be the girl my mother always wanted and the true son my father desired. Instead, I was the only useless boy in a village of lionesses and a bastard pup in a den of wolves.

I didn't have to think about the present. I only had to focus on the patterns sketching themselves in my mind, lingering until they were placed on paper. Drawing was the only thing I was good at.

I wasn’t the smartest boy. I wasn't even the bravest. I got picked on by the other village children for being a boy with such little skill. I couldn't pick up a sword, not until my father had taken me in. Even then I was still useless. I didn't know any strategic maneuvering on a battlefield like my younger half-siblings did. All I could do was yield a sword and that was after many days and nights bruising my own hands training.

In my past life, when my village was attacked, I wasn't rescued by a girl with hair as bright as the sun. Instead, I was taken into slavery only to escape my second night in captivity, fleeing into the streets of the cold lands of the Wolf Court. I still remember those days when I had no idea when I was going to eat my next loaf of moldy bread. Or where I could hide from the heavy snowfalls. I struggled to find alleyways with less infected fae.

After many moons of living off trash and with trash, I was finally discovered by my father, who had sensed me in his territory. It was also around the time, I suppose, that my magic finally developed.

My magic had awoken earlier than most due to the stress and trauma from the hunters. I had used my undeveloped ice gift to break out of my cage. Those thieves must not have known that I had any magic so they only bound my wrists in rope and not the magic confining cuffs. With my father, I took up swords and magic, quickly picking up the skill. I seemed to at least be able to please my father with this ability. But the fact remained that I was his bastard son, and nothing could change that fact. The throne would never be mine.

Still, I got to spend time with him. He never smiled even in the past, never patted me on the head when I conquered an especially difficult move, never gave me a single indication I was his son, even when the entire kingdom was gossiping about it. No, I was simply his apprentice, training to support him and his son in the future, not that Flynn ever wanted to be king, his fascination was on something else, or rather someone else as I soon came to realize.

Even though I was never recognized I was glad my father took me in. I was glad because no one else did.

No one else wanted the boy cub, especially not an urchin living on the streets. My father took a chance on his bastard son who in all regards he should have killed. Because in the Wolf Court bastards were nothing. They were scum who shouldn't have even been in any family. They were illegitimate , a symbol of a man's infidelity . A taint to a family lineage. A stain that needed to be wiped clean.

So I was glad , I was happ y , I was complacent? with my life, for I have others, others to care for, my siblings, though one hated me, I still loved her, she was my blood, my family. I had Everetta to care for too, to watch over. Even in this life, we found one another, she saved me from slavery in this life, even without all her memories intact. I should be glad. I should be satisfied with what I have, yet- yet I am not. I am angry. I am sad. And I still grieve the loss of my mother in all my lives. I understand that she wasn't the most present mother but she still gave birth to me which meant she must have loved me, in her own way.

Not everyone got to live as lavishly as I did in the past, what with me being an illegitimate child. Not everyone was saved from slavery as I was in this life. And I am eternally grateful. But I couldn't help but question, if only I had more control of my life would I have been able to live a better life?

If only I had more control over my fate like I did with my designs then maybe I could have had the perfect life I wanted.

But I shouldn't want more than a bastard like me deserves.

Right?

Yet as thankful as I am.

I hate my life, I hate that I couldn't be a legitimate child, perhaps then father could have acknowledged me sooner. I hate that I was born a boy . If I was a girl perhaps then mother would have doted on me more.

Maybe then they might have loved me more.

Nevertheless, there is no use drowning myself in the past, for I can not change things that are already written and lived. But, I can change what is to come, and no matter what I will be king again. Only then will I have enough control of the land. Only then can I get whatever I want. I got the love of my father did I not? I proved to him that despite my blood I could be just as strong by taking the throne away from his very hands. When I was finally on the throne. When I seized control, everything finally played out my way. I was finally happy , truly happy.