Rad turned his gaze back toward the endless ocean horizon, the wind gently rustled through his messy brown bangs, sending loose strands flicking against his forehead. The warmth of the twin suns pressed lightly against his skin, tempered by the cool whisper of the sea breeze.


    Rad took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of the open sky, of salt and distant spice, of sun-warmed wood and adventure carried on the wind. For the first time in what felt like forever, a moment of true peace settled over him.


    A content smile formed at the corners of his lips as he leaned further onto the railing, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the polished wood. “At least I can finally get some peace and quiet now…”


    His words drifted lazily into the air, dissolving into the gentle hum of the skyship, blending with the rhythmic crashing of waves far below. But Rad—lost in his moment of tranquility—never noticed the tiny, flickering glow of scarlet light creeping toward him.


    It fluttered weightlessly through the air, a wisp of mystical energy, its form ever-shifting, pulsing softly like embers caught in an unseen breeze. It danced playfully, weaving through the drifting motes of dust illuminated by the sunlight, growing closer with each passing second.


    And then—it hovered just beside him. Its tiny beige hands rubbed together with pure, unfiltered mischief as its iridescent wings fluttered rapidly in excitement. This one’s perfect! The thought crackled through the small being like lightning, its glow pulsing slightly brighter as it prepared to make its move.


    The wisp of energy pulsed brighter, its glow intensifying like a miniature star as it hovered beside Rad. It buzzed softly with life, a shimmering mote of scarlet light that flickered in rhythm with the wind curling off the ocean. Its body, though small and constantly shifting, had begun to take form—tiny beige hands, a barely-visible humanoid silhouette, and wings of pure iridescent energy that fluttered with joyful anticipation.


    Rad remained oblivious, his relaxed gaze still locked on the endless blue expanse before him, while the wind teased his messy brown bangs. The twin suns bathed him in golden light, casting a faint halo around his head that only made the wisp glow brighter.


    He’s just brimming with potential! the wisp thought, its voice gleeful within its own mind as it zipped around the boy in tight loops. It twisted in the air, watching him from every angle with wide, invisible eyes full of curiosity. And his soul is so pure! And…


    The wisp suddenly skidded to a halt mid-air, its glow dimming slightly as a shiver ran through its tiny frame. The cheerful energy shifted, and the wisp cringed in place.


    “…Eugh… Okay. Maybe not entirely pure…” The wisp hesitantly whispered under its breath. Its senses had picked up something faint—a darker thread woven into the core of Rad’s spirit. A sliver of malice, pain, or something more… unsettled.


    But instead of backing off, the wisp just huffed and planted its tiny hands on its hips, wings fluttering indignantly. Well, I guess he could use some work… It tilted its head in contemplation, glowing softly as it pondered the boy’s potential. Then, with a little spark of mischief, it smiled. But I’m also desperate, sooo—


    But it didn’t get to finish the thought. Rad suddenly blinked, a faint flicker of awareness passing through his gaze as he felt something hovering near his shoulder. He turned his head lazily, squinting at the glowing red speck flitting around him.


    “Huh…?” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “What is that, some kind of bug?”


    The wisp gasped—loudly—as if he’d insulted an ancient deity. “A bug!?” it shrieked, voice high-pitched and sharp as glass, vibrating the air around them.


    Rad recoiled slightly, surprised by the sound, but quickly waved his hand in front of his face to shoo the glowing thing away. “Hey!” The wisp screamed out as it effortlessly dodged the motion, zipping upward in a zig-zag pattern, wings a blur of color and sparks.


    “Stop that!” it cried indignantly, darting to the side as Rad made another attempt to swat it. “You don’t see me trying to swat you, you—giant walking nap hazard!”


    Rad paused mid-swat, raising an eyebrow, his expression turning from irritated to confused. His hand slowly lowered.


    “Did you just…” he trailed off, eyes narrowing. “Talk?”


    He took a hesitant step forward to get a better look. But before he could close the distance…


    “Boop!” The wisp darted forward and flicked him right between the eyes.


    “Ow!” Rad flinched and stumbled back, clutching his forehead with both hands. “You little—”


    The wisp let out an excited, triumphant cackle as it twirled through the air like a victorious dancer, sparks trailing behind its movements. “Gotcha!” it squeaked. “That’s what you get for picking a fight with an Emberglow!”


    The tiny figure pumped its fist into the air, spinning in place with a wild laugh. Its crimson glow pulsed with pride, casting little flashes of color against Rad’s annoyed face. Rad, still rubbing his forehead, scowled. “Okay… You’re definitely not a bug.”


    “Took you long enough,” the Emberglow snarked back, still twirling gleefully. “But I forgive you! Because clearly, I’ve arrived just in time to fix everything.”


    Rad groaned. “Oh no.”


    The Emberglow beamed, oblivious to Rad’s irratation. “Oh yes!”


    A sudden burst of crimson light exploded just inches from Rad’s nose, flooding the deck with a flash so bright he stumbled back, instinctively throwing his arms up to shield his face. “Ah—what the heck?!” he shouted, eyes squeezed shut.


    From behind his fingers, he heard a peal of laughter—a girl’s laugh, lilting and mischievous, like bells chiming through smoke. “What’s wrong? Sunlight too spicy for you?” the voice teased.


    Rad slowly lowered his arms, blinking away the afterglow that stained his vision. His breath caught in his throat.


    Standing proudly before him was a girl—a bit taller than him—her stance wide, arms folded confidently across her chest, chin lifted like royalty about to give a decree. She was wondrous in the strangest, most chaotic way. Her skin was pale and dotted with freckles across her nose and cheeks, and her long, dark brown hair shimmered faintly with the crimson hue of her aura, cascading down her back in tangled waves.


    At her shoulders and back were a pair of iridescent wings, sharp and jagged like shards of living glass, constantly shifting color—flashes of ruby, teal, and indigo flickering like heat lightning in a storm. She wore a leaf-woven dress—vibrant green stitched from various flora, reinforced with small thorny vines like natural armor. Underneath were black leggings, patched and scuffed at the knees, and her leafy shoes were frayed at the edges, as though she had run across forests, mountains, and deserts to be here.


    Her fingers were wrapped in silver thread, tiny rings dangling charms, and at her wrists were bracelets made of knotted roots, glowing faintly with residual magic. Rad stared at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.


    He quickly glanced around the ship in bewilderment, then leaned over the railing, scanning the sky. “Wait—where’d that weird light go?” he muttered, half to himself.


    Behind him, the girl’s proud expression wilted into a pout. She began tapping her foot rapidly, irritation building like a storm cloud. But after a beat, her sly smile returned, curling at the edges like a ribbon of fire.


    “What’s the matter, tubby? Never seen a fairy before?” she said, stepping forward with her hands on her hips.


    Rad snapped his head back toward her just in time for her to reach out and poke his forehead. “Ow—!” He flinched instinctively, stumbling back a step and rubbing the spot with a scowl.


    The fairy blinked, her smirk faltering for a moment. She tilted her head, curious. Rad frowned. “No, I’ve never seen a fairy before.” He cast another glance at his midsection and muttered, “And I’m not tubby.”


    The fairy raised one brow and silently smirked. Rad squinted at her. “Okay, what do you want from me, Sparkle Gremlin?”


    She rolled her eyes dramatically, her wings fluttering with exasperation. “Ugh, fine, I’m sorry for calling you tubby, okay? Kinda.” She crossed her arms and leaned slightly forward. “But the truth is, I need you specifically. There’s a prophecy involved.”


    Rad’s brow scrunched in confusion. “What prophecy?”


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    The fairy’s expression turned a shade more serious—still mischievous, but now touched with something ancient. “You see, my clan—what’s left of them—spoke of an old prophecy. One where a fairy and a human form a spiritual contract. Together, they’re supposed to take down the King of Celestia!”


    Rad’s eyes narrowed. “Spiritual contract?” he repeated, unconvinced.


    The fairy groaned loudly and flopped backward in midair, hovering horizontally like an annoyed cat in flight. “Seriously? Ugh, fine. A spiritual contract is when two beings agree to bond their spirits in exchange for something super important. Power, protection, purpose—whatever. Big deal. Lots of glowy magic and metaphysical junk.”


    She reached into a side pocket of her leaf dress and pulled out a crumpled, ancient-looking scroll—at least, attempting to look ancient. She also produced a pair of makeshift glasses, the frames cobbled together from twigs, crystals, and some kind of stringy moss.


    She slipped them on and cleared her throat dramatically. “Ahem—by order of the Great Whispering Bough of Feylaw, let it be known that this contract binds the human Rad…”


    Rad had stepped up beside her, peering over her shoulder at the so-called document. And what he saw made his eye twitch. It was not a real contract.


    The page was doodled to hell and back—tiny crayon drawings filled nearly every inch. One showed the fairy with a crown, ruling over a city made of mushrooms. Another showed her holding hands with an imaginary family, all of them grinning with bright stars for eyes.


    One showed her fighting a shadowy figure with a pitch black crown that seemed to float over an abyss—a twisted, terrifying sketch that stood out in its dark lines. Rad’s eyes scanned downward. One doodle had her and another fairy boy, holding hands, their faces drawn with ridiculous smiley faces and hearts around them.


    Rad’s face fell flat. The fairy continued reading aloud in a droning, official tone. “—and by merging of spirits, the Fairy and Human shall obtain eternal strength to slay the Celestial Tyrant and cleanse the stars of corruption…”


    Rad slowly turned his head toward her, brow twitching. “This is fake.”


    The fairy blinked, still reading. “—and be granted unlimited—wait, what?” She looked at him, confused.


    Rad pointed to the page. “That’s literally you drawn with googly eyes. And is that a unicorn with sunglasses?”


    The fairy glanced down and gasped. “Oh shoot! That’s the wrong page!” She scrambled to fold it back up, stuffing it into her dress like a squirrel hiding snacks.


    Rad crossed his arms with a frown. “So… you were trying to trick me?”


    She laughed awkwardly, twirling a lock of her hair with her finger. “Not trick! Just… persuasively improvise! Big difference.”


    Rad stared silently. The fairy sighed, then gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, maybe it’s not an official document. But the prophecy? That part’s real.”


    Rad raised a brow. “Right.”


    The fairy quickly straightened her glasses, then nervously muttered under her breath, “I really should’ve rehearsed this better.”


    Rad crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with skepticism. The crimson glow from the fairy’s wings flickered against his skin as he spoke.


    “Okay, but why should I even trust you?” he asked bluntly. “I don’t even know who you are.”


    The fairy froze mid-fidget. Her smug expression faltered, and for the briefest moment, she looked caught off-guard. Then, quickly regaining her composure, she cleared her throat and straightened her leafy dress with exaggerated dignity.


    “You’re right. I… may have come off a little strong.” She rolled her eyes and waved a hand half-heartedly. “Sorry or whatever.”


    She puffed up her chest dramatically, placing her fists on her hips as her iridescent wings flared behind her. “My name is Vel!” she declared, voice brimming with faux grandeur. “Of the Emberglow Clan!”


    Rad blinked. “Vel?” He paused for a moment, his lips twitching before a grin broke across his face.


    ”Like… smells-like-campfire Vel? Or do you just glow whenever you lie? ‘Cause you’re real bright right now.”


    Vel’s proud expression twisted into an indignant pout. “Excuse me?! At least my name doesn’t sound like a noise you make when you stub your toe— ‘Raaaad!’” she barked, scrunching her nose.


    Rad laughed. “That was weak.”


    Vel leaned forward, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Not as weak as your arms. Seriously, do you even lift, tubby?”


    “I don’t need to lift. I just exist. And look good doing it,” Rad shot back, grinning with his arms crossed.


    “Oh wow,” Vel said with mock awe. “He’s got confidence—wonder how far that’ll take you without my help.”


    The bickering volleyed back and forth, fast and sharp like two fencers trading jabs—snarky comebacks, wild gestures, even a few wing flaps and exaggerated groans. Eventually, the both of them ran out of fuel. Vel sighed, wings drooping slightly. Rad leaned back against the railing, catching his breath with a smirk still tugging at his lips.


    “Okay, okay,” he finally said, brushing hair out of his face. “But seriously… why does it have to be me specifically?”


    Vel caught her breath, brushing off her dress and tightening one of her root-wrapped bracelets. Her voice softened—not fully serious, but no longer all jokes either. “Because everyone else I ask says no. They just walk off.”


    Rad went quiet for a beat, absorbing the sincerity in her voice. Then, with a dry chuckle, he leaned his elbow on the railing and tilted his head at her. “Alright then… prove it.”


    Vel blinked in confusion. “What?”


    “You heard me.” He gestured lazily toward the deck. “If everyone else really turns you down, I’ll hear you out. But you’ve gotta prove it.”


    Vel opened her mouth to protest, but Rad cut her off with a cheeky grin and a shrug. “C’mon. I’ll wait right here.”


    The fairy groaned dramatically and threw her head back. “Uuuggh, fine!” Then her smirk returned like a spark catching dry grass. “Watch and learn, tubby.”


    She zipped off toward a yawning crew member, a burly man scratching at his stubble as he dragged a heavy crate across the deck. Vel floated in front of him, throwing on her most dazzling smile.


    “Hello, sir!” she chirped sweetly, hands clasped behind her back. “Would you like to become the Fairy Prince and save the world?”


    The man slowed his pace slightly, one brow lifting with the faint effort of thought. “Mmm… nah, sounds like a lotta work,” he muttered, before trudging on without a second glance.


    Vel stood frozen in place, blinking in stunned silence. Then she crossed her arms and muttered under her breath, “Lazy sky-dweller…” For the next several minutes, she darted from crew member to crew member, bouncing between tired sailors, merchants, and bored passengers.


    “You there! Fancy becoming the chosen one?”


    “How do you feel about eternal destiny and defeating evil tyrants?”


    “You look like someone with nothing better to do—interested in greatness?”


    But each time, the answers were the same—polite dismissals, confused glances, or flat-out rejections. Some chuckled. Some just kept walking. A few didn’t even see her.


    With every rejection, her wings buzzed faster in frustration. Her polite tone cracked. Her dramatic flairs turned into curt gestures.


    Meanwhile, Rad stood by the railing, arms crossed, watching her chaotic campaign unfold with amused silence. The warm wind tousled his hair as he leaned against the ship, the sunlight painting golden bands across the deck.


    He watched as she tried—and failed—over and over again. And yet, she kept going.


    Stubborn, he thought. Weird.


    But there was something else beneath that flamboyant energy—determination, urgency. She wasn’t just playing pretend. She really wanted that strange prophecy fulfilled.


    And Rad couldn’t help but wonder—why?


    Rad watched from his post at the railing as Vel floated up to one final guest—a tall woman in a lavish coat, her arms full of scrolls and parcels. Vel put on her best, most radiant smile and even bowed in the air, wings fluttering politely.


    “Excuse me, honorable madam!” Vel said, her voice sugar-sweet but edged with desperation. “Would you be interested in fulfilling an ancient destiny, becoming the next Fairy Prince, and saving the realm from total annihilation?”


    The woman didn’t even stop walking. Without looking up from her scrolls, she muttered, “Too busy,” and disappeared into the bustling deck crowd.


    Vel hovered there, stunned, watching the woman vanish into the sea of color and movement. For a moment she said nothing. The red shimmer of her wings dimmed ever so slightly, and her confident posture slackened. Her shoulders slumped.


    She drifted back toward Rad in silence, moving slower than before. When she finally reached the railing, she leaned against it, arms folded, head bowed, her long, dark brown hair cascading down to frame her face like a curtain.


    A whisper escaped her lips, bitter and half-hearted. “…I don’t need any of them anyway.”


    Rad blinked. He’d expected more huffing, more fire, more insults and bounce-back. But what he heard was something else entirely—quiet. He looked at her, really looked. For once, she wasn’t puffed up with dramatic flair or fanged retorts.


    She was just… still. A flicker of recognition passed through Rad’s expression. That look—the way she curled into herself, pretending like she didn’t care—it was familiar. He’d seen it in the mirror more than once.


    Rad’s gaze drifted away, across the deck. Crew members hauled crates and adjusted sails. Guests meandered with their companions, laughing, chatting, locked in their own worlds. No one looked her way. No one even noticed.


    His expression softened as he watched the people go about their day, surrounded by others, and yet somehow… missing everything that mattered.


    He turned back to Vel. She was still quiet, her green eyes hidden beneath her bangs.


    Rad gave a soft chuckle and leaned against the railing beside her, folding his arms. “Those people would’ve made lousy fairy princes anyway.”


    Vel twitched slightly, her head lifting just enough for her eyes to peek through her hair. “What?” she mumbled.


    Rad shrugged, a faint smile curling his lips. “A real hero would’ve taken your offer without blinking.”


    A memory surfaced in his mind—Kite. The way he always stood up for others, even when no one else would. Rad stared ahead again, eyes distant. He would’ve believed her.


    Vel sniffled softly. She didn’t speak for a long moment. Then she finally nodded, her voice quiet. “Humans only care about themselves anyway.”


    Rad frowned slightly at that. “Some do,” he admitted with a sigh. “But… not all of them are so bad.”


    The silence returned for a heartbeat—until Rad’s stomach betrayed him with a loud, echoing growl. Vel blinked, then snorted before breaking into a snicker. “Seriously? That dramatic speech and you ruin it with that?”


    Rad laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, I’m still human you know.”


    As if to join the moment, Vel’s stomach growled too. Her eyes widened with horror before she quickly crossed her arms and turned away. “Tch. Whatever. Yours was louder.”


    Rad raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Was not.” Vel glared playfully, but before Rad could counter again, she grinned—wide, mischievous, and dangerous.


    “Well, guess what?” she said, her tone bouncing back into gleeful chaos. “You still owe me a promise.”


    “What promi—” Rad started, but Vel moved fast. With an unnatural snap, her hand grabbed the front of his jacket, her grip impossibly strong. Crimson light flared around her as her wings ignited with brilliant magic. “Hey—wait—WAIT—”


    WHOOSH. With an explosion of energy, Vel launched into the air, yanking Rad with her at high speed.


    “AAAAAAGGHHHH!” Rad screamed as he flailed helplessly, his feet flying off the ground, arms flapping wildly like he could suddenly learn to fly too.


    They shot past a group of stunned passengers, zipped over a pair of confused crewmates, and hurtled down the open-air corridor of the skyship. People leapt out of the way, cursing and shouting as a blur of brown hair and red light screamed by.


    Rad could barely process anything between the howling wind and his own panicked yells. “Why does this keep happening to me!?” he cried.


    “You’ll live!” Vel shouted back, cackling. They rocketed around a corner, diving deeper into the belly of the ship, their laughter and shrieks echoing behind them like wild music on the wind.