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Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the kingdom.

It was dark. The streetlamps were off as the power had gone out hours ago. The darkness was anything but silent, however. Rain pelted the roofs of the village and the thunder roared every few minutes, not long after a flash of lightning.

This didn’t stop a boy from running, however.

His black hair hung limply on his head, soaking wet from the rain that constantly hit him. His footsteps stomped the wet, muddy ground, sending splashes of murky water onto his pants. His face was soaked, though the rain was only partly to blame for that. Otherwise, he clutched his soggy jacket to his arms in a desperate attempt to stay warm, and continued to bolt.

He glanced behind him, expecting to see the glow of a flashlight. Yet all he saw was lightning. Not long after, the crash of thunder. His tears intensified and he desperately picked up the pace, shoes slipping on the mud.

Eventually the lightning was in perfect sync with the thunder and it crashed down not too far away from the boy. Startled, he tripped and faceplanted into the mud. Sniffling, he pushed himself up slightly only to see a hand a few inches from his face.

He followed the arm up to see another boy around his age, maybe a little older than him. He saw his face only for a moment as the lightning lit up the sky. “Come on. It’s not safe out here.”

The first boy stared, bewildered, but gladly accepted the help and pulled himself to his feet. He let out a squeal as the lightning struck again, but found himself pulled by the newcomer into an ally. Suddenly, the rain stopped. They were under some sort of tarp.

The newcomer let go of the first boy’s hand. “There. You alright?”

“F-Fine,” The boy finally murmured, albeit quietly. “Th-Thanks.”

“It’s no problem. I hate these storms…” The newcomer whispered. A flame lit and the newcomer’s face was revealed once more, but the boy hardly noticed. He was much more interested by the origin of the flame--the newcomer’s finger.

“Y-You know magic?”

“Yeah,” The newcomer nodded. The flame lit a lantern, which illuminated the little space below the tarp. “But uh… Don’t tell, please? I don’t want to join the magical army. I’m Robbie.”

The boy nodded. “I, uh… I won’t tell,” He whispered, hesitant to say his name. “...Andor.”

Robbie’s head whipped over. Andor winced, but was finally able to get a good look at his face. He had curly, shaggy brown hair and bright blue eyes. Though he could detect some natural hues of red in his hair. “Andor? Prince Andor?”

“Shh!” Andor slapped his hands over Robbie’s mouth. “I can’t go back to the castle. Not tonight. I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

Robbie nodded and Andor slowly removed his hands from his mouth. He rubbed the back of his neck. “...Just call me Andor, alright?”

“Yeah,” Robbie nodded slowly. “That’s weird.”

“What?”

“Never thought I’d see a prince covered in mud.”

Andor looked down at his shirt and found it caked in mud. He let out a small giggle. “Me neither.”

Robbie smiled. “How’d you sneak out?”


“The window,” Andor’s gaze shifted to his feet. “Dad’s yelling again.”

Robbie raised his eyebrows. “When are you going to go back?”

Andor shrugged. He wiped his eyes again with a muddy sleeve and cleared his throat. “Do you live here?”

“Under a tarp? Yeah,” Robbie admitted quietly. “Just because I’m still working on making my house.”

“You’re making your own house?”

“Underground. It’s cool, y’know? Like my own little secret lair,” He smiled softly.

“Your parents let you?” Andor’s eyes lit up with interest as Robbie’s dulled.

“I think they would have,” Was all he said in reply. Andor’s cheerful expression faded as he realized and he nodded.

“...Can I help?”

Robbie looked up, surprised. He nodded slowly after a moment or two. “Yeah. Sure.”