Once upon a time, there lived a princess, locked away in a tall, tall tower. Her hair was longer than the tower was tall, and gave eternal youth to her adoptive mother. You must know her story, how she wished to burst free and sang about it often. You probably also know that, one day, she got out. 

      But I bet you didn't know about the prince who was locked one level below her, did you? 

      Don't feel so bad about it, though. Even mother didn't bother with me- him. And you couldn't have seen him easily, either - his cell didn't have a window. He also didn't have a cool chameleon sidekick, unfortunately. 

      Head leaning against the cold stone wall, he listened to his tower-mate singing her song of loneliness and squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the hopefulness poring through. It tore at him, hearing her soft voice call out to someone she'd never met. If only he could tell her that he was right there with her. If only he could reassure her, "You are not alone." 

      He dropped a hand down beside him and let his fingers stroke the damp stone, slick with moss. The wetness reminded him of the tears he used to shed. 

      "My dear son," Mother called to him from across the room. He didn't remember her entering, but he didn't notice much anymore. "Come with me."

      His head shot upward, his eyes fixed on Mother's through blurred vision. Was she offering a chance to leave the room? He didn't know how old he was but he knew he'd been in that same room since he was four years old - one year before his tower-mate had arrived. But yes, she was holding her hand out and she was smiling. 

      Shaking, he pushed himself upward and balanced on legs thinner than bedposts. "Yes, Mother."

      She guided him up the stairs and he nearly smiled - they were going closer and closer to the voice that had kept him going all these years. Would he finally get to meet her? The door was actually opening, and the voice got louder and stronger and-

      It was a recording. 

      The closer he got, the more tinny the voice sounded. He took one last look at the small speaker, noted the mess around the window, and turned to Mother one last time. And listened as she confirmed, "She left you, Tobias, last month."