i. Darkness falls over the spirit world, painting the mountain with a sickly stillness. The world is pitch black after the sun spirit's retreat: a humorless mimicry of the human world, as most spirits feel compelled to do. He, however, is a form of thought that could never be correctly grasped by such disgusting creatures. Mistakes, they were.
His dismayed musing is disrupted by the fall of silver feathers and diamonds from the pit known as the sky. He can't help but go wide-eyed at the sight. The collection of silver glistens even though its far away, falling to the peak of the mountain while he rests on a ledge more south.
Desire or curiosity compel him to race up the mountain, clawing as fast as he possible can. His heart thumps with the promise of a surprise. He knows better than anyone that surprises are the home of mistakes.
He reaches the peak of the mountain and freezes in place. At the center of the flattened plain is a new indent, a spherical cranny in the earth. The silver light collects - he sees them now as a collection of feathers and gems - into the cradle and fills like water. He can only compare the sight to mercury, but even that is too lackluster.
Nothing should be this bright in the pitch blackness.
He wants to move closer but some force beyond him prevents it. He only watches as the silver force shifts with a mind of its own, creating a new form.
Realization slaps him across the face as a small girl settles into the rock. This is a spirit being born.
She's beautiful.
He wants her more than anything, wants her more than he wants to laugh at the other spirits with egg on their face. More than he wants to tease them, humiliate them, take everything they know and turn it around. He wants to protect her from the others. She knows so little about the world, she'll have no choice but to accept his perspective if he reaches out to her first. He can mold her into his own image, help her be smart enough to point out the tricks, to laugh at the fools when he makes them.
Her eyes flutter open and he runs away.
ii. She is greeted into the world by a light gust of wind and two spirits- Avem, the spirit of birds, and Pani, the spirit of the ocean. He can't believe his bad luck. She was only born an hour ago, as the humans say, and she's already being crowded by these beasts. He
just figured out the right things to say moments ago, too. The two spirits with her now aren't good for her anyways.
Avem, well, he's a self-righteous b*****d, a follower of principles and law and whatever. He can adapt to any situation with ease and he never shuts up about it. He always falls for the Trickster's cries for help; Avem would never deny anyone assistance if he could pat himself on the back for it. The conservative bird b*****d tells the Trickster off each time but never stops coming for assistance. What an idiot. Pani? She tries too hard to be kind. She's one of the oldest spirits and a good friend of Avem. She is very polarized in her personality. She either likes you or she hates you. You either float or drown, in her book. She's stronger than she knows- than anyone knows, but it doesn't stop her from sniffing the Trickster's flowers and getting squirted in the face. She's too faithful their godless world.
They both talk to her- she introduces herself as Iah. It sounds like the only thing she knows with absolutely certainty. It makes the Trickster shiver. That kind of determination is what keeps
him going, even when no one else seems to appreciate his tricks.
She nods as they tell her she's the spirit of the moon. She takes shaky breaths as she tries to understand where they are and what that means for her. But she's damned sure of her name and herself, still, and he doesn't know what to say.
Avem and Pani lack artistry. They understand the joke but not the punchline. He hates them for talking to her first, they don't understand her potential. He doesn't want their boring, stoic spirits rubbing off on her, tainting her. Her silver color with match perfectly with his own blue and yellow soul... Why won't those bastards get their paws off her? He knows best for her, even if she doesn't. They can't help her like he can. They can't see what he can.
A growl of frustration makes its way out while he's deep in his own thoughts. When Avem looks around the area questioningly, he has no choice but to run off again.
iii. The Trickster is ready. Day is sleeping in the spirit world as night falls. A silver spirit appears at the top of the mountain as her existence graces them once more. She is like a trophy he can never win, but he can most certainly have. It's with that thought in mind that he surges forward, creeps up behind her and from the shadows.
She turns to him when he clears his throat. He's standing tall and straight and with the neatest dark purple coat he owns, one with coattails that fade into
butterfly wings.
He bows. It's not a sign of respect but rather an act of diplomacy or finesse. One that introduces him more than it welcomes her. "Hello, my dear Iah." His grin is wolfish, but clean and charming all the same. He straightens from his bow and runs his hands down the top of his coat to settle any wrinkles. "I've waited for this moment for a very long time." He bends once more to take her hand and kiss the top of it, his painted purple lips contrasting with her paleness starkly.
"Who are you?" Her question lacks the heat he would expect from other spirits.
He adjusts his velvet crown. "I'm known as the Trickster, darling." His eyes glitter with deviousness that she mistakes as mysteriousness.
"Ah, well hello there." She examines the hand he kissed for only a second. "Do you come from far away?"
"Not at all," he answers, sharp and quick. She's too young a spirit to know that the farther from the mountain top a spirit is, the lesser they are. He still takes it as a slight. "I'm a very renowned spirit."
She nods slowly, processing. "I've never heard of you before," she answers as more of an apology than an accusation.
"Well you're ignorant."
Her brows furrow at the insult, but he recovers the angry outburst quick.
"Listen, dear, I'm here to help you." He fiddles with the buttons on his coat as if he can't be bothered to look at her. "I'm the only spirit smart enough to understand the real values."
"What kind of values?" In her curiosity she steps a bit closer and takes a longer look at his face.
He turns from the scrutiny, instead facing the edge of the mountain. "Real happiness," he answers solemnly. "Laughter and joy and silly things." His voice gets a bit higher as he lists more synonyms, his hands creating these wild gestures as he paces around. His eyes flutter all over the world as he gets caught up in his own monologue and hysterics. She comes up to him, hand stretched out, because she genuinely wants to help calm him down.
He turns at her wildly and shoves a gloved palm at her forehead without touching it. She blinks quickly while flinching, but nothing happens. Her eyes move from the meat of his hand to meet his eyes, but he just grins wolfishly again. All of a sudden, water squirts out of his sleeve and sends her stumbling backwards. She shrieks out of confusion, surprise, but barely wipes it off of her face before he throws his other palm out and glitter shoots into the air.
It looks nothing like her own faint trails of light.
She groans in frustration and rubs it off of her and away from her hair. "What's wrong with you?!" She growls as she furiously runs her hands through her hair.
His eyes widen with joy at the image of her covered with his own creations, his own glitter. His own image. He moves closer to hug her, congratulate her on being worthy of carrying his own emblems-
She steps back away from him, to the ledge. Her hands are out in front of her defensively. "Stay away!"
His eyes widen again, but there's no pleasure in them. "Princess Iah..."
She rubs her eyes, feeling small sharp shards of his glitter cutting into her face lightly. "I- why would you do this?"
His face drops. "Don't you get it?" He demands. "Don't you understand?" He throws his arms out around him, angry and theatrical. "Don't you get the joke? The beauty of the punchline?"
His face is wild with emotions as he peers into her eyes, her own confused and hurt expression. She crumbles under his scrutinizing gaze. He sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. "You don't get it."
She shakes her head no, in agreement with his observation.
"You will. Don't worry." He brushes off the issue like nothing. He turns on his heel, tosses a hand out as farewell. "We'll meet again soon, my dear Princess."
A shaken form stands there for hours afterwards.
iv. She is greeted by the wolf spirit the second night falls. The Trickster watches with jealousy as she laughs with him and points to the reflection of the human moon. He hates the idea of that wolf boy being near her, he doesn't appreciate true beauty. He's too much of a beast to understand the finer things. He won't treat her like royalty. He will rub his dirty paws on her and declare them equals while making her perfect hands labor like his do. He's a monster.
She listens to him whistle with genuine amusement. The Trickster wants to rip out the wolf's throat. So he can whistle, so he can sing, so he can scream, so what? So what if other spirits can't master such sounds? So what? If he put his mind to it, he could mimic that. He could mimic anything.
He would be anything for her.
She touches the wolf boy's shoulder and smiles again. Her lips cradle his name, a soft objection along the lines of "Oh, Kue,
stop," and makes his heart beat fast. 'Kue' can't help but look at her like the best thing he's ever seen.
Whatever. At least he knows something real.
The Trickster won't let this fly. He can't allow such an insult. He knows a good joke for a moment like this, a real killer.
v. The Trickster sneaks up on Kue. He utters a 'boo' as he shakes the other spirit's shoulders. The wolf boy jumps and turns as if he's been struck, with wild eyes and hackles raised.
The Trickster laughs. Then he wags his finger at the wolf boy. "Listen, listen, listen. I heard you've been hanging out with moon girl a lot lately and-"
"Her name is Iah," he interrupts.
The Trickster opens his mouth wider at the insolent comment, at the insinuation that he didn't know the bare minimum of Iah, that he didn't know
everything. He hisses out a breathy laugh before continuing. "And I've got a great idea for a gift."
"A gift?"
"Well, yeah. Didn't you know that moon spirits love gifts?"
"She's the only moon spirit-"
"That you've
met," the Trickster interrupted. He was centuries older than the wolf boy, though he himself hadn't been around long enough to meet the past moon spirit. But the other spirits in the world hate talking about the Trickster, let alone with him, so there's no way the wolf boy could know. "And I know just what gift to get her. Er, for you to get her."
The wolf boy eyed him suspiciously for a second before bouncing around with excitement. "Really? Really, really, really? I'd love to get her something that she'd never forget or-"
He cuts the wolf boy off again with a wag of his finger. The wolf could certainly act like a pup when he was eager. "There are these elusive flowers in the human world. They are a gorgeous, deep red and they compliment the moon. That's why moon spirits love them so much." He spoke in a slow, matter-of-fact tone. The wolf boy bought his words instantly.
"How can I get them?"
The Trickster grinned. "I have a mirror you can use to jump into their reality."
The wolf boy's brows furrowed at the word 'mirror', but he didn't refuse. The Trickster tapped his thigh and walked off. Obediently, Kue followed.
vi. Her head was in her hands (which were in her lap) as she alternated between sobbing and wailing. Nearly the whole spirit world could hear her anguish. Her cheeks were red like the moon flowers she watched in the mirror.
The Trickster yawned as he walked past the ledge and onto the clearing. "C'mon Princess, get over it already."
She turned quickly, surprised the hear someone else's voice.
"He's gone. Forget about him." He opened his arms up wide in a welcoming gesture, kneeling down beside her and wrapping hi-
She shook off his arms.
His face fell a bit at that. "Princess-"
"I'm not in the mood for any jokes."
He clenched and unclenched his fists. "Iah, sweetheart-"
"I'm
not your sweetheart. Or your dear. Or your darling. I ju- I just want to be left alone right now, okay?"
His hand darted out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Iah. Listen. I did this for
you, for
us. You don't have to show me any gratitude but you
will show me respect."
"What?"
He sighed, rolled his eyes. "I said-"
"...You did this?" Her voice was soft but her eyes were harder than they'd ever been.
"Yes, yes of course! Who else could orchestrate such a grand performance?" He stepped back from her so he could emphasize his words with hand gestures and the theatrical rise and fall of his voice. "What other spirit could put on such a show? No one knows entertainment like I do. Heartbreak, tragedy, romance. Only I could write such a compelling script. Only I could drag such emotions from you, from anyone!"
He looked at her expectantly. Where was his applause?
Her hands were balled up by her sides and she didn't meet his eyes. She was shaking again.
He put a hand on her head only to have it thrown off. "YOU did this." She growled, screamed, pulled at her hair as if the walls of reality were falling apart.
"Of course I did, Princess. I did so you could be truly happy, so you could see the truth-"
"Happy?!" She laughed, she threw her head back and howled. "You think this is happiness?" She gestured to her tear-stained cheeks. "You think this is the truth-" she gestured to the space between the two of them, "That
we could ever be a thing? That you could mean anything more to me than- than a FREAK. A monster! A jerk!"
She shrieked like a child throwing a tantrum. The injustice of the entire situation... He hushed her. "You just don't get it yet, please, let me explain the joke-"
"Joke?!"
"Yes, of course! The j-joke is the most important thing about life, about us. Humor makes life standable. You just need a little help with the punchli-"
"Gods, no! No!" She wailed at the sky. "This can't be what it's all about! There- You couldn't have sent him away from me, sent Kue to eternal damnation away from me, just for a
joke. A laugh. There's, Gods, there's no way." She tugged at her hair again, pacing in a line.
"Iah, please. I can help you see things the right way-"
"
Your way," she corrected.
"A-And I can recreate you in my image, make you smart and perfect-"
"He loved me the way I am!" She looked him right in the eye, exhausted by all of the dancing around the subject. "He
loved me."
The Trickster stuttered and searched for words, but there were none to help him.
"You know what I think?" His head shook minimally. "I think you're a joke," she poked a finger at his chest, her face right at his. "I think you're the funniest joke everyone here has ever heard, ever seen. I think that's why you can't make anyone laugh. We already are. We're already laughing."
He shook, gasping in breath but still feeling like he was suffocating. "At you," she growled out.
"Pr-i-ncess," he begged.
She sighed with exasperation and looked to the sky as if the answers would be there. They weren't.
She turned to him once more and pointed away, out from the mountain. "Run. Hide. You're a laughing stock. We only laugh when we think about what a sad mess you are, how badly you must mess with things, the compulsion to change what isn't broken. You've ruined something great here, you've ruined the love of my life." She looked at him with challenge. "You don't own me. You never did. You don't love me. You never did."
The Trickster stepped back at her words, nearing the ledge. He was still gasping for air, out of words, but he pulled up his sleeves.
"Ah, the Trickster without any tricks, it seems. No silver tongue? Watch mine when I tell you this: I. Hate. You."
He stumbled backwards at that and lost his footing. He slipped down the mountain and tumbled all the way down, cracks coming from his contact with the earth and grunts and gasps as he struggled to breathe. He made it all the way off the mountain and onto the cold, cold earth. He looked all the way up and saw the brightest light in the spirit world like a star in the human night.
He was the joke and his stupidity the punchline.
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