Prologue 1: Into the Atmosphere
The ruler of the great azure was a lazy, rather capricious boy. He indolently hovered through the sky, with a confidence any could understand. With a flick of a wrist, he could send the Winds to tear up The Below, (what is below? he wonders), or he could change the brilliant cobalt into a grey fleece, sending the rains to drown The Below. But did he do this often? No, why, his pride leads him to believe it was beneath him to waste his power to destroy what he did not even know. The Below was a mystery, one he had never cared to solve. He never looked lower then the frail clouds that lined his dwelling, and he never bothered to think of what could be down there.
In any case, he did his job, letting the gentle violets and pinks soak through the sky as the sun rose, letting the greens and blues bleed through and blend as the rays of the Sun climbed up as he rose from his slumber. The pastel watercolours would give way to an acrylic cerulean, a fine coat spread evenly through out the sky. Depending on his mood, he would a streak a layer of high, wispy clouds or powerful thunder clouds tinted with sickening limes and yellows. But the sunsets were his favorites, and it always showed. As the Sun lay down and his faded away, the monarch of the Heavens brought out his oil paints. Streaks of vivid oranges, blinding golds, a thin streak of mauve where it met the indigo night sky and a base a crimson red, matching his own eyes. But what he loved about sunsets were what followed: the Festivities of the Night.
The Star announced his arrival; a flash of silver and bright blue that zipped across the sky to tell everyone that night has arrived! To light the lamps, candles and lanterns to dress your best and tune your instruments! His laughter echoed across the Heavens reminding everyone it was time to sparkle, glimmer and twinkle for the ones Below. His dares and mocking to the men, his flirting and playful banter with the young woman was the cause of many eye-rolls, curses, blushes and just plain good-natured laughter.
The Moon followed silently behind. She did not announce her arrival but perched quietly in the sky, her long black hair creating a veil across her face. Her dark skirts made of the finest velvets or silks spread across the sky, becoming the picnic blanket of the merriment. But what stood out was her pale skin, that stretched across high cheekbones and lidded eyes shades lighter the Night and shades darker then the Day. She was everything her precious Star was not: demure, patient, with a hushed aura that calmed.
But none was more loyal to their mistress the Moon then Star himself. No matter how much he celebrated with the others, he would be seen later at her side telling of tales of heroes and adventures, epics of soldiers and monsters, dragons and witches. She would always smile kindly, laugh at his antics and listened attentively. He would soon no longer be mingling and would secure a spot next to the Moon to entertain her. He had only have one goal, to make the rather poignant Moon glow with a smile, and the occasional giggle that would made the entire sky go silent with awe.
The Festivities would end far too quickly, as the Sky once again reluctantly picked up his paint brush and painted the watercolour sky over their dark blanket. The stars would one by one fade, the lanterns and candles pinched and the music would die away. The last to leave being the Star, making sure the Moon had descended and would be safe for another night.
Then the Sky would drift along another day, with few but the Wind and Sun to accompany him. It wasn't before long that he realized what the bare, aching feeling he had: he was lonely. He had power to command the entire Heavens, (is there much to rule?). Subjects that loyally served him, (only at night to do they serve you). Why, his subjects LOVED him, (they fear you, your ashen hair and serrated teeth drive everyone away). The Moon and the Star had his uninhibitedtrust, (they have each other, don't they?)
For the first time, the Sky realized something, he was just that: a vacant and empty space. Confidence, pride, his very might crumbled under this realization. What was this worth, with no one to appreciate it, to be his companion? He had the Star and the Moon as his dear friends, but he desired something, someone, exclusively for himself. He continued on with Festivities and his other duties, but with an apathetic air. He no longer loved the endless parties or his sky. He wanted a companion all for himself, to himself, and for that he cursed his very person.
