It's been over a month, but here I am! Chapter two for the lovely...20 or so people who gave it a read. Oh well. Enjoy! Please review!

Disclaimer: Do I look like Miss Arawaka? No? I thought not.

Chapter Two

Pursuit. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She was in the open now, and would be caught if she did not hide quickly. She scampered away, disguising himself the best she could against a painted flowerpot.

"Aha!" his pursuer threw open the large wooden window that simultaneously functioned as the least accessible door ever constructed by man, or homunculus in this case. He gave a quick glance around the windowsill/doorstep, seeming to miss his prize. He notched his hip, tousling the fringe of his hair. Eyes sparkling with mirth, he heaved a sigh. "Oh well, I guess Shao Mei's not hiding out here," he said, exaggerating each word as he turned his back on the window.

Thinking she had evaded her pursuer, the panda gave a giggle-like snort, unaware that she had just given away her position. A faint clap sounded from inside and a fist of the wood she was standing on engulfed him, the practiced wielder making sure not to hurt her even as she was swept up. She gave a yelp of surprise as she was brought face to face with her pursuer as he giggled. "Gotcha," he laughed as he released the panda, setting the wood back into its proper shape with another clap and a flash of electric light. "That brings the total to twenty-two for me… how about twenty-three out of forty-five?"

He received an annoyed look from the thoroughly-done-with-never-winning panda on the windowsill.

"Okay, well what do you want to do?''

The panda trilled happily and pawed at the wide world waiting in front of them, inches forward and about fifty feet down.

"Yeah, I don't think so." the boy smiled as he picked up the petite panda and swung his legs out so that they dangled in the air above the ground, "I like it in here and so do you." He tapped the little creature's wet black nose for emphasis, ignoring the reproachful look he received in return. "Come on, Mei-Mei, it's not so bad in there," he said laughingly as he took them both inside.

He climbed the lattice within the house and reached for the lever that opened the skylight. He pulled it and flooded the rooms below with warm light. He quickly slid to the floor and allowed the energetic bear to climb on his shoulders and help him with his chores.

The tower was very small, just his room, a kitchen/living area, and Mother's room, the only room with a door, so cleaning up didn't take very long. He was high-energy and up early, and had the help of an equally high-energy (though lacking in opposable thumbs and therefore not very helpful) mini panda, so he time until Mother returned from her business in the outside. He tried to keep himself busy with reading and drawing on the walls, even absently transmuting patterns into the wooden walls, already littered with bored spirals from years before. He baked, drew all over the walls some more, and played a little on the piano and his mother's guitar. He made candles and soap, and a small dress for Shao Mei.

It was all so inane.

He ended up, as usual, by the window, watching the sky just over the ravine, knowing that in just two nights, it would be filled with curious floating lights. They were truly beautiful, appearing once a year, on his birthday. He wondered if they were meant for him somehow, but Mother had told him nothing about them, and who out there would know about him and do such a lovely thing just for him? Mother always said that the outside world was selfish and cruel, and that he must stay in the tower to stay safe. How could a world that produced such beautiful things be to cruel?

He craved an adventure to the outside. He craved to go out into the world and witness it, if only for a day or two. He specifically wanted to witness the floating lights at their source. If he saw them, he told himself, he would be happy to return to the tower and stay safe where he belonged. He would not allow himself to think that contact with the outside world would only fortify his desire to see it.

Tonight, he allowed himself to think, when Mother gets home, I will ask her. With cautious optimism, he smiled and fiddled with his hair. It was long and golden, sweeping his lower back, a few shades darker than his eyes. It had never been cut, and it glowed when he healed Mother. It got in the way quite a lot, but he would never, ever cut it. If he did, Mother said, he would no longer be able to use his healing alchemy, no longer able to heal his dear mother. Even thinking about losing her made his heart race. She was all he had.

But still, he wondered.

When would his life begin?

Elsewhere

A man inhaled sharply as he glanced over the edge of the tower. He never had been fond of heights. But that wouldn't matter if they pulled off this job. If they managed to get out without dying, nothing would ever-

His thoughts were interrupted by him losing his footing on the clay shingles of the palace roof. He slipped, just managing to right himself and jump onto an adjacent tower, hearing his companions follow him. He had been lucky. The guards had not spotted him yet, and they were right above where they needed to be. Making sure that none of the guards so far below were looking, he leaned over the edge, looking at the world from his superior vantage point.

"Wow," he smiled cheekily to nobody, tossing his golden braid, "I could get used to a view like this."

"Ryder!" the eyepatched of his two companions called. "C'mere," he gestured to the hole the two who were not distracted by the sheer glory of the world had managed to make in the ceiling, looking down on their prize.

"Hold on," Ryder gazed for a moment more, then leaned back on his other hip, "Yep, I'm used to it. Guys I want a castle."

"We do this job," Non-Eyepatch smiled cruelly, "You can buy your own castle." He snatched the shorter man by the back of his shirt and tied a cord around his waist, lowering him through the hole to steal their prize from beneath the noses of her guards.

One such unsuspecting guard suddenly sneezed loudly, breaking the stillness of the hall.

"Ugh. Hay fever?" I voice from behind him questioned.

"Yeah," he sent an embarrassed glance back, making brief contact with the golden eyes of the man hanging from the ceiling by his waist, holding the lost Prince's crown and a simple brown leather satchel. Suspecting nothing he glanced back ahead.

"Wait," he did a double take. Looking back quickly, he saw the edges of feet rushing from the brand-new skylight in the Hall of the Crown. "Wha-wait! Hey! Wait!"

By the time the guards were mobilized, the thieves were halfway across the bridge to the forest, two of them groaning as the smallest of them kept up his witty monologue. "Can't you just imagine me in a castle of my own? Cause I certainly can," he gasped between breaths, " Ah, the things we've seen and its only eight in the morning! Gentlemen," he addressed the men in his company even though they were decidedly not 'gentlemen' in even the loosest sense of the word, "this is a very big day!"