Hraz'Elarion: Light

"Hraz'Elarion!"

"Hraz'Elarion, have you been climbing trees again? Look at the state of your clothes!" Selura fussed over the young half-elf. In truth, she was proud of the boy. He had grown up to be a compassionate, charming, benevolent contradiction to his heritage.

Looking at him now, his shorts fraying, his shins scraped, dirt covering his shirt, he was just like any curious 7 year old. The only differences were the dusky grey skin, stark white hair, sharp ears, and the strange crystal he wore about his neck. That crystal, made of a strange, smoky orange quartz, roughly hewn into a sort of claw shape, was the one personal item left in the blanket a young Hraz was left in.

"Run along now, Elarion, or you'll be late for dinner." Selura watched him hurry off up the steps, as she contemplated upon the nature of innocence. There are some who believe that all of a person's being lies in their heritage, but to look at this child born half of darkness, yet raised in the light, would prove them wrong.