The Inaugural Address

PART I - CHAPTER II

2.

Brock and I entered the event to see around a hundred or so people seated across a loud assembly hall of the village's central building, creating a bigger crowd than average. Surprised by the size, I began to reconsider disagreeing with Brock that this meeting could be more substantial than I assumed before arriving. Everyone seemed to be deep in quiet conversation, focused solely on whatever they were talking about. As we approached the side of the room with seating, I noticed dates and numbers on each of the chairs.

Is there assigned seating?

Groups of three or four rarely acknowledged other groups of similar sizes, yet all seemed to collectively be waiting for something. The weight of the room was heavy, and I sensed Brock and I might be missing something -- like seating arrangements. We both seem to slow our pace considerably.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," I begin.

"You think we're missing something?" Brock replied, revealing we seemed to be on the same page mentally. "Like maybe where to sit?"

We surveyed the area once more and I began to notice our childhood bullies, of whom prided themselves by being born in the middle of Sagitarrius season, were all seated in the middle of the room's seated section. I also noticed that everyone was our age, and all from our graduating class.

"It looks like the chairs closest to the stage will be for our birthdate..." Brock said, lifting a hand to gesture to the two chairs at the front of the room, closest to the stage. We were the only two of our grade with a birthday on the first day of the season, which would explain the sole two chairs in the first row. As he gestured forward, everyone's attention began turning to us. As we gathered stares, I realized we were the only individuals still standing. More murmurs began, this time directed at Brock and I.

Flashbacks to classroom lines organized by birthday began to resurface in my mind, and Brock's stoic, nearly emotionless expression convinced me he was also experiencing flashbacks amidst the heat of the stares. I instinctively grabbed his hand, and we walked toward where we were meant to sit.

Every footstep pushed the room closer and closer to complete silence. We sat down in our chairs, the weight of our bodies creating a sound that seemed much louder than it probably was. A few seconds passed before the white noise of distant conversations began to return.

"Well, we certainly were forced to make quite the entrance." Brock said, recoiling back into his chair. "Why can't we sit in the very back like we used to in school?"

"Ah yes, the back of the room where no one could see us yet still judge us freely -- the glory days!" I reply, my tone tainted with sarcasm. "We're the main event now. These rebels got great news for the rebellion, I think that's rather clear..." My commentary was partnered with an instinctual survey of the area. I began to come to terms with my deep fear that Brock may have been right about these DNA tests being significant. The assembly hall was decked out in the rebellion colors of red and black. Screens of propaganda showed various people posing and encouraging an emotional response from the public to inspire volunteers to work against the House of Scorpius. Already active volunteers sat behind a few tables with rebellion literature and sign-up information.

"Yeah, I'm starting to dread what I think is coming." Brock complained, his body slouched now entirely in his chair. "What if we are related somehow to her?" His hopeful optimism was nearly gone.

I opened my mouth slightly to respond but caught myself lost in thought before any sound could escape.

Both Brock and I knew a revolution was long overdue, and we wanted to see major reform in each of the Commonwealth's 12 astrological territories, each territory representing one of the signs. Ever since we were independently thinking adults we saw an issue with the Commonwealth being completely run by a group of people who's only qualification was being the last born Scorpio of the year. We found it strange that Scorpios made up the legislative and executive branches solely because of when they were born. In the Commonwealth, your entire life is decided by your birthdate. If you're born during Libra season, you will be trained to become a lawyer or work in the Commonwealth's courts. If you're a Virgo, you'll become an employee of the Royal Birthing Bureau in the Virgonian Territory or, if you're lucky, become a farmer. If you're a Pisces or a Cancer, you'll be sent off to the coastal territories to try and make a living fishing, trading, or doing some related career. If you're an Aries, you better hope you'll fit in well with the Military, because you'll join other Ariesan soldiers withholding the status quo. The Commonwealth didn't put any weight in your innate abilities unless they happened to align with their carefully crafted astrological framework and the stereotypes of your sign. The whole system is based on the somewhat valid truth that without direction and assignment, humanity will fall into war, famine, greed, and whatnot. Ironically, this forced the surviving population of the War of Revelation to create a new system that destined us all to fail. No wonder such a rebellion (however flawed as well) was gaining traction.