Sky - Children of the Light: Isle of Dawn

I - Sky

- Chapter One -

I take in the mixed scent of this unbreathable mask and the fresh smell of nature surrounding me. Perhaps with a bit of cold stale air ricocheting off the old stone structures.

A new call of mission to take in the land of "Sky" as the man called it. A place in the sky itself named after the place it's in. Strange logic, but I didn't question him. He was strange, also.

A seemingly mute boy was introduced to me when I was picked up on that boat. I wasn't told he was mute; he simply hasn't said a word to me or anyone else since I saw him in front of me.

His hair is disheveled entirely, white as a marshmallow, his body laden with a dull blue shade of clothing and his eyes blinking boringly at me. I hold back a sigh as he leads me down a few small moss-covered stairs and past a tall pole surrounded by a small bit of water and stone.

He doesn't turn around to check if I'm still following him as he veers off to the right once we reach a hill with a shop built into it. The village is quite bright and lively for being so late in the night, the stars bright and visible, despite the vibrance of the light radiating from the village and its inhabitants.

Many like me run beside the two of us, many flying overhead or even sitting in groups or lowly-populated spots.

Everyone wears masks. Every single one.

I continue to follow the mute until he brings through a wide-open threshold, my eyes glancing up to catch a glimpse of the flag protruding from the front of the rock, what looks like a glass bottle being adorned. The flag is a dulled version of royal red.

The shop opens up, looking bigger than you would think possible by looking from outside. To the immediate left there are two bins overflowing with paper decorations, looking like little boats or bird boats; all the same color of red-tinted orange. A counter follows the direction, a blue spirit-looking being standing there with what I imagine is a neutral expression, though I can't tell for sure with this mask on.

Instead of standing around and observing meaninglessly, I continue to follow the mute. He leads me through a door past the front of the counter, the door meeting a small alcove room with another--smaller--bucket of the paper boats. Cutting through the middle of the room is an extremely shallow water creek, a few paper boats floating on the surface.

Without a word spoken, the still-mute boy grabs a boat from the bin and shoves into my grasp, handing me a utensil that I imagine is a pencil of his own making, which he grabs from a pocket--though which pocket, I'm unsure. I wasn't aware he had any pockets on his person.

He simply watches my unmoving hands, and though I'm aware of what he's insinuating, I find myself baffled at this little boy. I wonder how old he is, even.

I do as silently instructed, setting down the boat on top of the water. Upon realization while writing, the boats are coated in something water-resistant, leaving them to float on the surface instead of soaking up the water.

I take a second to watch the unique and simple action of the water making the paper boat sway happily, the boat finding a home on the surface. A glint catches my eye, my masked face turning to watch as little ball-like flowers dance under a non-existent breeze, the taller lengths of grass swaying in unison.

I turn to the boy and stand, but he shakes his head, walking to my side and kneeling on the sand. He takes one of the previously placed boats, turning it until he finds the written note and hands it to me. I read it, smile a bit at the greeting of someone I imagine was just as confused as me, and finally turn back to him. He pulls out--once again from a pocket was I entirely unaware he had--a token. It's small, the size of a smaller coin, and is colored white with a hint of every color you could think of, though somehow keeping its original glint of white.

It reminds me of magic.

I snort uncontrollably. The first word spoken since we departed from the main island, I question him. "Where are you holding these things?"

His eyes simply blink, though I swear I catch a glimmering amusement as he turns back to the boat and places the token in the fold of the boat. There are only two or three other tokens in the boat.

He proceeds to set the boat back atop the water, standing up and walking toward the front entrance room of the shop. The side of the counter lays empty, the spirit-looking being turning to us and walking over. The boy nods at the keeper, who hums lightly in acknowledgement and nods back, bringing over a small, closed bag. He plops the bag down on the counter and his eyes seem to smile at the boy. Finally, he turns away and begins a task on the main counter, my eyes turning to look at the boy and back at the bag sitting on the counter.

The boy looks at me and reaches in that same pocket, pulling out another token. He picks up the bag from the top where it's bound shut and holds both items out with his arms extended. I look from his hands back to his masked face. I tilt my head in question. He pulls the token back in and leaves the bag out.

Curiously, I reach my hand out flat, allowing him to plop the bag into the palm of my hand.

In the softest, kindest voice I think I've ever heard, he speaks for the first time. "Welcome to Sky, friend."

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