Chapter Six

The Moth

Most moths are drawn to the light. This particular moth, however, preferred to stay in the dark, unnoticed.

His hat was large; he'd preferred to have kept his cloak's hood up, but admitted that that would have drawn attention. His suit and mask, both reminiscent of a purple butterfly – gave him a somewhat majestic, yet mysterious look.

No one at the party knew that this guest, shrouded in the shadows, hadn't arrived through the castle's gates. Hardly any of the guests even acknowledged his presence.

The guests hadn't even noticed both the King's and Prince's absence. They were aware that the young Prince had blended in with the guests, and now that the King was nowhere to be found, they assumed the King had done the same as his son.

The perfect cover for the Moth. He waited in the dark, searching for the flame that would draw him out of his hiding spot – a pair of earrings and a ring.

To the Moth's surprise, they were incredibly easy to find. When the girl arrived, she instantly drew everyone's attention, and the young lad that carried the ring quickly found her – putting them even more in the centre of the attention by inviting her to dance.

The Moth couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. These youngsters were obviously children, no older than twenty, perhaps even younger. They had no clue what they were doing – let alone what and who they were up against.

Considering things as they were looking now, the Moth suspected that this would be an easy job. This ball had no need of lasting more than one night for the Moth – he'd have both pieces of jewellery by the time the night was over.

But still, despite the fact that the Moth could strike now, rob both children of their magic and thus embarrassing them in front of the whole crowd, he had no intention of making such a dramatic entrance – there simply was no need for it. These children mildly intrigued the Moth, piquing his curiosity. He decided to watch them for just a while longer, and perhaps try to come up with a more subtle way of getting what he wanted. If possible, he could try and see if anyone at the party was up for doing his bidding and claiming the jewellery for him.

After all, he hadn't stolen and put on the brooch his own magic was sourced to never use it. It provided him with a proper disguise, but it was the immense power within that had attracted him towards it.

It wasn't as if the brooch's original owner was ever planning on using it, anyway. This jewel was so much more than just an object that had to be contained inside a box, where it could rust up and be useless – it was far too powerful to be just a brooch, and not abusing its power for one's own purpose almost seemed impossible.

The Moth had its own reasons. He had his reasons for using the brooch, as well as his reasons for his desire to claim the Cat's ring and the Ladybug's earrings.

After all, the way the Moth viewed things, the end always justified the means. And that meant that nothing could stop the Moth from achieving his goal.

The Moth leaned back against the wall behind him as a frown spread across his face. Oh, how the Kwami that was connected to the brooch had squirmed when the Moth had told her of his plans. She'd cried, screamed, begged him to change his mind, that his plan wasn't the only way of achieving his goal.

She'd quickly learned that there was no way to change the Moth's mind.

He hadn't harmed the Kwami in any way, considering that would only work in his disadvantage – if the Kwami wasn't healthy, the brooch's magic wouldn't and couldn't activate.

And still, if this condition did not exist, the Moth still wouldn't have harmed the Kwami. She was young, inexperienced, but a child. In some ways, the young Kwami girl reminded the Moth of his own son when he was younger.

The Moth sighed. His son… younger. The past were better times, but soon, those times would be just as good again. All the Moth needed in order for that to happen, were the two Miraculouses – the Cat's and the Ladybug's.

The Moth clenched both his fists and his teeth, feeling the metal of his cane heat up through his satin black gloves. The tartar clipped off his teeth, creating a gnashing sound as he grinded them. The odds had challenged him one time too many. The Moth was about to lose his patience, and he hoped with all his might that he would acquire the Miraculous jewellery and accomplish his goal before his patience ran out. It'd be a lot better for everyone.

The Moth looked up again, out into the crowd of people that was conversing and dancing in the brightly lit ballroom. Nobody seemed to notice the Moth or his piercing eyes as he scanned the entirety of the room, desperately searching for the Prince and the Princess, hoping he hadn't lost sight of them; he could not afford to lose the children from sight now. That meant he'd have to move from his hiding spot and risk being noticed by the other guests. Perhaps they'd want to get to know him, strike up a conversation with them, and, in order not to awaken any suspicion, the Moth would have no choice but to stand around and absentmindedly take part in the pointless conversation.

If he got caught in such a trap – yes, the Moth considered civilian birds-and-bees-talk a trap, something that was sure to endanger his mission, his purpose – there was no way the Moth would ever be able to fulfil his purpose in just one night. The children would get an advantage, get to know the ballroom, each other – they'd be far more prepared for the Moth and his tricks than they were right now.

The Moth frowned. From where he was currently standing, he could not get sight of the Prince and the Princess. He'd have to move. But he'd have to be careful – no one could be aware of his presence. Not yet.

The Moth reconsidered the 'trap' of civilian conversation that had struck his mind earlier. Speaking to civilians while pretending to be a regular guest would possibly work to the Moth's advantage at some point – up to a certain degree, at least. He doubted anyone would be expressing any kind of negative emotions tonight, considering how cheerful and light the ball's mood seemed to be, but alcohol tended to do strange things to people.

Perhaps he could influence someone enough in order to get upset – with anything the Moth could come up with at that particular moment. Then, he could make his victim all his – a perfect, unsuspecting, unobtrusive, willing puppet, entirely at the Moth's disposal, ready to do his bidding.

If possible, he might attempt to control two people at once. Or even more. The more people the Moth had on his side, the easier it would be to set a trap for the Prince and the Princess.

He could have them surrounded by party guests, ambushed and restrained, entirely taken by surprise. They were just children, they'd never even know what hit them.

The Moth straightened his back, finally coming to terms with the fact that he had no choice in the matter. He had to move from his hiding spot and set his plan in motion, all while making sure he remained out of the children's direct line of sight and undetected. He had no intention of hurting them, not at all. But the Moth knew that the possibility of having no choice in the matter was evident. If these two children were ready for a fight – although they were not dressed for it – then the Moth would have to be, too. He suspected the Prince and Princess would not surrender their jewellery easily; if the Kwamis had chosen them for this task, then they must have some righteousness to them. Perhaps the Kwamis had told them a sad story, to guilt-trip and motivate them into stopping the Moth.

The Moth made himself no illusion; he knew the reason these children were sent here. They had to stop the Moth, have him surrender his Miraculous instead of the other way around. The children probably believed that the Moth was here to kidnap someone of the Royal Family or someone else rich in order to get the Miraculouses. Little did they know that the Moth had no need to kidnap anyone in order to get what he wanted.

And even if the Moth ended up making the mistake of underestimating the children, the Moth still wasn't going to comply and surrender. No, he couldn't. He'd fought so hard, come so far. If he gave up now, allowed himself to be taken down by two children, all of his hard work would go to waste. He wouldn't be loyal to his cause. To himself.

No, the Moth would not give up. Not even if he had to come back a second or maybe even a third night. Even if he had no choice but to have to identify the Prince and the Princess and catch them by surprise in their own homes. Even the thought, the idea that the Moth would possibly be harming two very young individuals who weren't even fully-grown adults yet wouldn't stop him.

There was simply too much at stake for the Moth to give up and turn back now. He'd made far too many terrible decisions that set him on this path to leave it now.

He clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth again, this time with determination rather than rage.

The Moth wanted the Miraculouses, and have the Miraculouses he would.