Part I: Soliloquy
The sky wasn't always blue.
At least, not until someone made it so.
A long, long time ago, there lived a king who ruled so justly and so piously that the gods deigned to reward him. This came in the form of a gift: a son, endowed with strength, courage, and potential unbounded. He would look different from all his fellows, tall, broad of shoulders, with a raptor's gaze that would strike fear into any offending soul.
This child will be the greatest among mortals, the gods said, The fiercest warrior.
This child's name was Bokuto, and he is one of the protagonists of our story.
… What, did you think he painted our skies? Alas, for all his gifts, Bokuto was not the one who accomplished this amazing feat. You see, fatherly love turned the king into a heathen indeed. Instead of honing his son into a fine point, the king squirrelled him away in his palace. Kept him away from the gods' shrewd schemes. Gave him enough love for both himself and his cherished wife, her death the gods' first punishment: a plague that ravaged their rocky little island.
The gods were enraged. What they gave, they can take away.
This was to be the king's second punishment. Yet, this plan was thwarted.
No one remembers his name now, not even the scrolls the crumble on the shelves around me. In this, I am alone. Yet, this same nameless young god defeated the Greatest of the His Kind and laid claim to the sky.
Dead our prince may be, but everyday he is resurrected by brush set to horizon, stroke-by-stroke bringing about the colour of day until night again blankets the earth.
If you wish to hear it, let me tell you why the sky is blue.