Chapter Text
The bright sunlight glowed across the Isle of Dawn. The sun was rising, painting the skies in pretty purples and pinks. The sandy plain was littered with shipwrecked boats and pots with butterflies fluttering around their entrances. Near the sea sat a solitary cave, and on top of that cave sat a young boy, gazing at the sunrise.
Taking a deep breath, the boy took his dark mask off and pulled off his indigo hoodie. His twelve-star scarf floated in the breeze, and the boy’s grass-green pyjamas withstood the test of time; the testament of living a whole year in the Kingdom. Or at least, close to a year. He was bad at remembering dates. Unlike other Children of Light, the boy’s eyes were as blue as the vast skies of the Daylight Prairie, and his short hair had hints of gold.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked himself. As expected, no-one replied. Unlike the older times where he would speak, and someone would reply, he was lonely. No rose to speak to. No fox to laugh with. No aviator to vent to. He was lonely, he really was. He laughed to himself. “Well, how funny. I came here a year ago, and people…they all admired me…wait, should I say that? No…it’s not that. No. Not at all. Nope!”
A butterfly perched on the boy’s pulled-down hoodie as he continued his thoughts. He had a habit of talking to himself. Other people thought he was crazy, but he didn’t care at all. “I think I read a book…in the Vault of Knowledge. About a prince. A very little prince. A young boy who lived on a planet barely bigger than a house, and needed a friend.”
The idea of a friend made the boy wonder. A friend, huh…
The last time he tried to make friends with the other Children, he took them all over the Kingdom of Sky, and yes, he did grow homesick. He wanted to go home somehow. But he left his home for a reason. He made a mistake, and that mistake was telling the other people he met about how he felt. People cried for him, but he wished they never did that at all! He was just a little prince, running away from the things that hurt him the most, so why, in the name of the starry Elders, were they pitying me?! Wasn’t I the one at fault?!?!
And when he went to Eden, everyone was crying because he was never reborn with them.
But he did come back. He was reborn, but in a different form. Instead of his wheat-coloured hair, his locks turned a bright silver. His skin turned dark, and had the feel of a candle. But his eyes never changed, and so did his clothes. And he didn’t care about those things at all. Not like anything mattered to him anymore. He travelled the world again, trying to make sense of what happened. And he did. And he came across the book.
Somehow, the idea of a little prince, on an asteroid, with a rose and a fox and an aviator, all of that seemed familiar to the boy. He never had a name. Everyone just called him the Little Prince. Was it because of the storybook, he wondered? I mean…
Suddenly, a loud yell came from the bottom of the cave. Pulling on his hood and his mask, the Prince leapt off his watchpoint. And so he met an unlit Skykid. Since the people here bowed after lighting up people they never met, the Prince did so. After all, as one of the books said, “When you’re in Rome, do as the Romans do”.
The person he met was a tall man with shorts, a brown cape, flight goggles and a dull, brown cape. The person bowed in reply, and pulled out a white candle.
I’m sorry, what?! WE JUST MET!
The Little Prince looked around, panicked, and then accepted the candle.
I can’t leave this newbie all on their own…
As soon as the two of them joined hands and took to the skies, it became apparent that this person needed some Winged Light. It was obvious from the way the moth seemed to be honking frantically when they spotted a bright, yellow glare. Eventually, the Prince gave up and spent some Candles so that he could hear the person’s voice.
Really, friendship shouldn’t have to be bought.
“Okay, can you hear my voice?” the Prince asked.
“Yeah, I can.” the moth replied. Despite looking like one, his voice was deep and mature.
As the two of them flew through the Isle of Dawn, the moth decided to start a conversation.
“You look very familiar.” the moth noted, collecting a winged star.
“That’s what everyone says.”
When the moth said nothing, the Prince replied, “No, it’s not like it’s a bad thing…I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…”
“You didn’t, don’t worry. I’ve faced worse.” the moth said, laughing.
“Why do I look familiar, anyways? Like, what makes me noticeable?”
The moth paused. The two of them landed at the Isle’s temple as the moth thought of what to say.
“You look like a person I’ve met before. In the desert.”
“A desert?”
“The Sahara. Have you been there before?”
“Deserts have names?!”
As the two of them soared upwards to the Daylight Prairie, the moth asked, “Do you have a name?”
“I don’t,” the Prince replied, “everyone just calls me the Little Prince.”
At this, the moth said nothing.
“Is anything wrong?” the Prince asked, cautiously.
As the two of them touched down at Prairie’s social space, the first thing the moth did was squeeze the Prince in a giant hug.
“You’re…” the moth stammered, “You’re the Little Prince? Yes, it was you I met a long time ago!”
“You…were the pilot, right?” the Prince whispered. “I think I remember you. Yes, it was you! The goggles!”
And soon, the pilot was rapidly shaking the Prince like how one shook a jar of jellybeans, trying to free the candy that had stuck together. “Why did you have to ask the snake?! DIDN’T YOU HAVE YOUR BIRDS?!?!”
“I saw no other way! I’m so sorry!” the Prince gasped, growing dizzy from the shaking. When the pilot gave the Prince a death stare, he pleaded, “Yes, um…I won’t do that again. Please don’t hit me…”
“You! Better! Not!” the pilot sobbed, playfully punching the Prince.