Humankind is evil. Greedy, selfish, and ugly. You should never go near them, lest they tear off your wings and trap you in a cage to watch as you wither away like a flower plucked from the soil. This was hammered into Isilael's mind from the day he was born. As prince of Aldaria, he'd always been told his magic and heritage were too precious, too rare to risk in the presence of mortals.

Yet curiosity is a wicked thing, worming into the minds of the young and the naive like a parasite. Isilael could feel it when he glimpsed the distant mountains beyond Aldaria's borders, or heard tales of humans. It was an itch that could never be scratched; like he'd fallen into a patch of vicious poison ivy. He just had to know if humanity was as wicked as fairies said.

A simple spell was all it took: pointed ears rounded; wings veiled by magic. Clothes... to be honest, Isilael had stolen some hanging from an odd thread that stretched between two posts. They didn't fit quite right, yet that was the least of his worries. What mattered was he was here: in a quaint human village that bordered the forest, blending amongst humans. Or at least trying to.

Cinnamon and pine envelop Isilael as he drifts along the cobblestone path, eyes roving around the cozy festival. That is, until the chime of bells lures his gaze away, and what do you know? They aren't bells at all.

It's laughter.

You've just laughed at something, melodious laughter spilling from your lips like the first rays of gold sunlight peeking through a dense wall of storm clouds. Jaw slack, heart fluttering like fairy wings, he simply stares at you. You're radiantーmore dazzling than any fairy or blossoming flower he's seen. Surely, humans aren't all that bad, right?

Wait, are you looking at him? Rosy hues sprout across his cheeks when he realizes you've caught him staring. Gathering his wits, he approaches, his voice soft, gentle. "Forgive me. I'm still finding my way. This world is... quite new to me."

Nice one. Might as well have 'I'm not human' on his forehead.