For Family Forever

Goodbye Starlight

Your name is Torvis Fossor, you are six sweeps, and today marks the beginning of your life. Today is the day where young Alternians leave their homeworld and become cogs in the Empires ever moving machine of galactic domination. You look around a sea of grey faces and orange horns, gripping the small, hot hand that's holding yours. Cesare looks up at you with big round eyes and smiles. You marvel for a moment at how small she is, despite being a few perigees older than you. Your different places on the hemospectrum never hindered your friendship, but for the first time ever, you really understand what that means. Cesare is a lowblood, specifically a bronzeblood. So much smaller and weaker than you are. So much softer. You worry for her once you're no longer there to protect her. You think for a moment, what she'll be up against out there, storming foreign planets and stamping out rebellions. You think about her blood, the rich orange color, pooling under the claws of some lowblood scum. Your stomach turns.
      "Tori?" She says, tilting her head to the side. She had been talking this whole time, and you were so lost in concern you hadn't heard a word of it.
      "Sorry Ces, I sort of zoned the fuck out." You smile, a little embarrassed, and shake the thoughts from your head.
      "I noticed. I was saying that the group you're going to be joining looks a lot smaller than I imagined." She points over to a group of about 100 young trolls, all wearing face paint and some variation of clown inspired clothing.
      "The 'family' is considered a fringe cult. The rest of the highbloods are joining the salt suckers to serve the Empress as diplomats and shit." You air quote the word "family" and roll your eyes. It's never been something you really understood. You've read the scriptures over and over to the point that you can recite them from memory, but the concept of feeling so connected to trolls you're not quadranted to is something you can't quite grasp. Alternian society is about every troll for themselves. The weak get culled not coddled.
      "The only reason I'm even joining is-"
      "To become the youngest Grand Highblood in history, yea yea, but who knows, maybe being around other people who follow your weird religion might change your mind." Cesare cuts you off with a shrug and a smile. You smile back softly, if anyone else spoke ill of your faith you'd probably gut them. But Cesare can do and say whatever she wants and you'd still think she was messiah's gift to Alternia. While you've never experienced the feeling of family, you'd like to think that your moirail is the closest you'd ever get. Just as you start to drift back off into thinking, the raucous sound of clowns hits your auricular sponges. The Dark Carnival, the lead and biggest ship in the Holy Fleet docks and opens its bay doors to the sound of whooping and honking.
      "I think that's your cue Tori!" Cesare holds out two fingers, half of a diamond. For a second you're so overwhelmed that you pull her into a tight embrace. You nuzzle her soft hair and kiss her hot little forehead.
      "I'll get special permission for you. No way everyone is only quadranted on fleet." You mumble into her hair. You finally pull away and complete the diamond.
      "Pale as fuck for you."
      "Pale for you." She takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your palm before releasing you. "I'll miss you."
      "Goodbye Starlight." You turn and walk towards your future, into the the group of excited kids ready to face the world, and swallow the lump in your throat. Once you board the ship, you look back out through the doors and see Cesare turn and head to where the other bronzebloods are, future cavalreapers, and while you're still scared for her, you know that she'll do amazing. The bay doors close and you feel the ship lurch upward as it begins to take off. You turn and begin to take in as much as you can about the ship. You appear to be in the landing dock, there are several smaller ships lined up in rows, they look old and travel worn. Each one looks to hold about 10 trolls, and they're each speckled in dents and scratches. The ceilings are incredibly high and the walls are dull and scratched metal. It's here you see your first adult. She stands nearly double your height at about 9 feet tall, her horns sweep back and curve upwards in half crescents from the sides of her shaved head. She's wearing an armor plate over a shirt with no sleeves, exposing her long arms of lean muscle and covered in scars. She has tight pants on with vertical stripes and knee pads as well as mid calf black leather boots. She has a scar that cuts through her top lip. Her face is painted half smiling and half frowning. She appears to be herding the new recruits out of the landing dock and through a large door.
      "Alright littlest brothers and sisters, follow me, we've got a mother fucking surprise for you all!" She bellows as the young clowns fill the hallway. She turns and opens another door leading to a room full of elevators with other, equally as enormous paint faced adults waiting at each one.
      "Hop in an elevator and the schoolfeeders will lead you to the church!" Her voice echos over the sound of excited honks. You take the first elevator with about 10 other kids. The ride up is quick, but the air inside feels electric. The doors open into another hallway where the woman stands by the exit.
      "Alright family, settle down, you have to show some fucking respect in the holiest of churches. Head inside and find a seat." The chatter dies down, but not entirely, as you begin to file into the church.  You take a seat in the back as the others fill in the front most rows. The woman as well as the other schoolfeeders, who are in all black robes with their respective symbols on them, move to the very front. She steps forward and begins to speak.
     "Welcome to The Dark Carnival, the head ship of the most Holy motherfucking Fleet! My name is Feeder Condor, I'm going to be your main combat instructor." Given her scarring and the chips on her horns that makes sense. You scan over the other schoolfeeders. They all appear to be much older than her, but you wouldn't want to take any of them headon in a fight. Feeder Condor introduces each of them by name and the subject they teach.
      "For the first few sweeps of your time with us, namely until you pupate, you will be here, on The Dark Carnival, where you will take these classes 6 days a week, excluding the most Holy day of rest, where we will hold services here in the main church for those who wish to attend, which I'm betting is going to be most of you adorable little shits." She grins ear to ear. You notice she's missing a fang and her smile is crooked, probably due to the scar.
      "Now! On to the surprise I mentioned." Her grin faded to something slightly more devious. "I'd like to introduce you all to the man himself, our lord and His Most High motherfucking Hilarity, The Grand Highblood of the Holy Fleet!" She bows, along with the other schoolfeeders, and the young clowns around you all cheer and honk and whoop. A door behind the altar swings open with a thunderous crash and you see him, the Grand Highblood. The hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up and your fight or flight instinct kicks in. You stare at him with wide eyes, sizing him up. He's taller that Feeder Condor, maybe 12 feet? Thin but covered in lean muscle and scars. His hair is a huge mess that hangs down his back. His horns are enormous, the twist straight upwards, they're nicked and chipped. His face is admittedly gorgeous, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. His facepaint was that of a skull, similar to yours, but far more menacing and less refined. His eyes were a vibrant purple. He was beautiful and terrifying and you were filled with an electric excitement. You couldn't wait for the day that you could tear him down, bend him and break him and take his place. You couldn't wait for the day that the faithful looked at you the way they look at him. For the day you could use his power to make real change. His eyes scanned the crowd, stopping, if only for a second, to meet your own, and a fire started in your heart.