Sir Lancelot of Camelot is my father, while my mother is Elaine of Corbonic. Although I had seen my father before, I swear he had even looked me in the eyes, he is unaware that I am his son. Aunty tells me that Galahad, which is my name, was the original first name of my father.

Every day that passes I wish to meet him, Mother occasionally visits, but when she does, its more of a bother then a pleasant surprise. She would pet my quills and say, "You look not as your father, but as the purity in your soul Galahad" Then the biggest smile you would ever see would appear on her lips. "The one thing you had received from your father is nobility, bravery, strength, and the secret reputation anyone would die for"

Then their would be times, when she would come with tear stained cheeks and cry "Your father should be here! He nearly slain me, before the words of our son, hit his ears. Your father saved you Galahad, now it is your turn to save me"

Of course, I had not the slightest idea on what she had hinted towards me. Aunty told me that she had tricked father into sleeping with her, while he belongs to Guinevere. As much as I hated to say it, Mother was a bit of a mental case now and again. When ever I would visit, all she would do is work in the garden, until dirt was stained into her white hands. Perhaps that's why aunty has me live with her instead…

The first day I had ever seen my father, was I day I would never forget, although my aunty wishes that I did.

~~~~~Flash back~~~~~~

I felt so small in the audience; then again I was near the age of four. Small enough to get threw to the front of the parade, the parade I had been waiting, what seemed like centuries. The march of the knights, a parade where the Knights of the Round Table were to appear to almost every town imaginable, receiving praise from the bystanders.

My white sharp quills would scratch the legs of everyone I passed. Small apologizing was given, but my sight stayed to the front. Finally able to make it, to be visible beyond the crowd, I waited.

One you had been their, you would have to play the game of 'which one doesn't go with the others' because you could. Albinism was in my mother, and passed down to me. While others were in all assortments of the dull and dirty rainbow. How I had gotten gold eyes, will forever stay a blunder I suppose. My mother would say "You are blessed with the color of the praise Galahad. This shows the purity of your soul, and of your heart." While my Mother had green eyes, and father had been told to have had red.

The audience stayed in a small chatter, until horns had been herd. Four men, in royal armor that had been settled on horses were on the dirt way. The crowd became so quiet, all eyes reverted downward. Well almost all of them. I knew I was suppose to, but if I did, I wouldn't be able to my father!

When the sirens stopped, more hoof steps were herd. The slightest clinging of armor, and the colors of all the towns each flag was rose. The knight had begun passing us, one by one. Now the crowd had been apply thanks, and prays to them. The knights not even giving the slightest of nods or thanks… perhaps, Sir Lancelot wouldn't notice me…

- Some time before the parade -

"Oi, Sir Lancelot? Are you listening to me?" A feathery bird had asked him. Giant and natural green feathers came from his helmet, with a beak out the front. Sir Lamorak was the name of the hawk, who thought to be talking to himself.

"Hmm?" A simple noise came from Sir Lancelot. Sharp black spikes came from his back, seeming to be raised more then ever before. Head down, noise almost touching the mane of his stallion. A small grunt came from the hawk.

"I understand that this town has a bad aura for you; but what one must understand that is to be praised by the people. But to have the people look down to you, and you up to them, is humiliating." The bird laughed. Sir Lancelot sat up slightly, and took his stance again. They were behind the rest of the nights of the round table. King author was sat near the front, but still had two knights next to him.

Lancelot looked over to Lamorak, and said coldly "its been almost 5 years, she could be their" the coldness increasing "I feel shame of what I had done to my dear Guinevere … Though, I feel even more pain to the others child, she shall live the life of a bastard, because of me"

A small ponder came to the bird "What if you shall me the child, what would you do then? Shall the child hate you perhaps? Or the child just wishes to know their parent. You cannot know until you face the child"

"How will I know? The child could look like me, they could look like her, its hard to tell" Then a small snicker filled the air "If she was wise, she would not make our bastard child come to such things"

The horns erupted the quiet chatter. The royals were a few yards away, and that meant we were near the castle of Corbenic.