By: The Great and Powerful BEEEE!!!!

She stared at him, her brows curled into a frown. No words came from her
mouth. Ryu still held onto her arms, trying to prevent her from hurting herself.
"It'll be fine okay?" he said, calmly.
Enya only stared more; then she yanked away. "Whatever, Sword Boy," she
said, walking away. Ryu rushed after her.

This Story is dedicated to my friends and family.

Chapter 1: The Lone Half-Born

Donovan Darcy, a poor, lonely man lived alone in the antiquated land of Ronland, ruled by a king and a queen. His father, Dean, was once the king's most rusted knight; however, soon after he was born and Donovan's mother died, and Dean went wild, his insanity eventually leading him to betray the king, which was what, in the end, sealed his death.
As a baby, Donovan was taken in by an orphanage. Of course, since his father was a well known sprite (which was simply a creature with magical powers, born from the underworld whereas Humans originated powerless and above-ground) and his mother was a Human, this made him a half-sprite, half- human. Yet, the children insisted upon referring to him as a half-born.
As Donovan grew into his teen years, he was thrown out of the orphanage for something he did not even do, or intend to do. While he was passing a ball to a young girl during free hours, it lit into a dark ball of flame and burned the girl's hands, scarring them for life. Because of this, he was accused of trying to harm one of his peers and thrown out onto the streets.
Donovan, but a mere 14-year-old boy at the time, was never angered by what the Humans had said about him. He was always more frightened than angry, a quality which he inherited from his mother, Kaytlin. He also resembled her more than he did his father. He had long wavy dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and medium-toned skin. He was always good-looking, yet he never thought much of it.
He roamed the streets for weeks, starving to death, too frightened to ask for the leftovers of the Humans. Finally, he decided to take it upon himself to find a job. He began to grow and sell healing herbs from the back of an old wagon. This went on for six years and throughout that time, he became quite wealthy, yet he was still lonely, had no friends, and was looked down upon by most.
In the present time, Donovan was practically a man now, 20 years old, had a good business, and had his own manor. It could be said that this nobleman lived a happy life, but one could never tell by his seemingly permanent forlorn expression.
One dreary winter afternoon, Donovan donned his cloak and traveled down the busy buggy-filled streets of Ronland to a small restaurant entitled "Nick's Place". He was quite familiar with this bistro, for he had been there at least once a week to taste their delicacies. However, on this particular day, he had gone to meet a gentleman named Flynn to discuss his herb business and hopefully make a huge sale.
As he entered the diner, he took his usual seat at a small table in a dark corner near the rear. The young waitress who worked there came immediately. Her name was Bianca, Donovan recalled. She was Nick's daughter. A lustrous woman, she was. Around his age with long blonde, nearly white hair, fair skin, pale green eyes and a friendly smile. He sort of knew her. He only spoke to her when he wanted to make an order. He was almost frightened of her, yet he did not know why.
"Hello there, are you ready to make your order, sir?" she asked.
Donovan looked down at the table at the menu that lay there. "No thanks. I was waiting for someone. I'll order when he gets here," he said, staring down carefully not to look at her.
"Oh, all right. What's his name? I'll let you know when he gets here," Bianca asked, placing her hand onto the table to lean.
Donovan found himself looking at her hand. So petite, so delicate. "Uh." he said, unknowingly.
Bianca removed her hand from the table and placed it on her left hip. "Hmmm?" she asked again.
He blushed and looked down, back at the table. "Flynn. Donald Flynn," he said quickly. He wished that she would not stare at him like that. He felt so unsteady around her, as if she had some sort of power over him.
"Got it. Well, I'll let you know," Bianca said, turning and walking away, her long bright hair gliding behind her like a wave of sparkling water.
Donovan sat patiently and waited for Flynn. Quite some time passed and it was nearly two hours before Bianca returned to his table. Her expression was difficult to interpret. Cheerful, yet sympathetic at the same time. Flynn had not come, he knew.
"Flynn hasn't come yet. It's been a while. Perhaps he had an emergency or something of the sort," she said.
Donovan forced a slight smile, trying to convince himself that he was not the least bit disappointed. Of course he was. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm sure we can re-schedule," he said, digging in his pocket for a few gold coins. "A tip for your trouble," he said kindly, looking away. He figured that it was the least he could do for causing her so much inconvenience.
Bianca took the coins and stared at them in the palm of her hand. Then, she looked out at the empty diner, and eventually back at him. "You know, this is just enough to share a platter of some nice hot grilled salmon," she said with her usual warm smile.
Donovan looked at her in surprise. Share? She wanted to share a meal with him? Grilled salmon was his favorite dish. Did she know this? Or was it just a coincidence? He tried to think of an excuse to leave. "B.but, I."
"Now, don't you move a muscle, I'll be right back," Bianca said, leaving to the kitchen.
He sighed. Great. He was stuck. Stuck with the most beautiful woman in Ronland. Why was he so afraid? She certainly would not harm him. He put his fist against his chest and felt his heart pound against it roughly. He was nervous. He had never sate and eaten with a woman before, unless of course it was about his business.
Shortly, Bianca returned with a nice plate of grilled salmon and two glasses of juice. After placing the food on the table, she sat on the chair opposite him and stared at him. "You always eat here alone unless you're on business. Why?" she asked all of a sudden.
Donovan had already begun to eat, trying anything to get his mind off of the fact that he was practically on a date with a woman he had always secretly admired. But did she know that? Did she admire him as well? After he chewed and swallowed, he answered. "I don't know. I guess I never felt the need to eat with anyone."
Then, Bianca appeared to be sad for some reason. Did she pity him? Did she understand how he felt? "Do you have any friends?" she asked, her voice softening and her pale green eyes burning into his dark ones.
He went for more food, but noticed that a little less than half was left over, and since they were sharing, he only thought it was fair that he should leave the rest for her. Then, he decided to answer her question. "No," he said, honestly.
Donovan's hand was still on the table near the plate. Bianca reached over the table and put her hand onto his. He felt his cheeks burn red and wanted to jerk away; however, at the same time, he enjoyed the feeling of her gentle hand over his.
"Yes, you do," she said, smiling again.
"Uh.I." Donovan tried to say something, trying to convince himself that he was not completely terrified at that very moment. Of course, he was. Then, without thinking, he slipped away from her grip and stood. "I have to go now," he said, taking a short respectful bow.
"Do you mind if I walk with you?" Bianca asked, artlessly.
Yes! he wanted to shout, but how could he resist those eyes? He simply could not.
"No. You can come."