The Facetious Doctrine

Unus | Peter Tempusvista

Peter could never get away from his father.

Born into nobility, Peter envied those who could live such an unconcerned life. The Tempusvista family had one goal that each progeny bearing the name was expected to uphold. It was their ethos, their beliefs, it was the path they walked. "The Tempusvista Name will always be known due to those who protect the future, or die trying."

And so every time Peter would pass the Sir Moria statue on Fondatore St. he couldn't help but feel like he would never, ever, uphold the family name. Yet here he was, on that same street, watching the passersby as his navy blue suit stuck to his sweaty chest, listening to that same father ramble on and on about how the two families had been connected forever. The protectors and the protected.

"Peter, are you even listening!?" His father scolded him. Peter frowned.

"I am listening, but you keep making the same points. It's like an echo chamber-" He was abruptly interrupted.

"I am your father. You listen to your father. That is apart of the Tempusvista code, no?" His father spat.

Not this again. Peter thought to himself. The Tempusvista code consisted of 3 rules. "Honor those above you in the family." Which was pretty much just, "If they're older, they matter more."  The second part of the code was to always respect the ethos, which meant almost every Tempusvista was peer pressured into Morian military services, and the last? It was to respect yourself.

"Hey!" His father yelled, snapping in front of Peter. "You can tune me out all you want but this is our family. Our legacy! Why don't you get that!?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're doing what!?" Florian asked, scoffing afterwards.

"I have to leave." Rowan explained. "I barely know you guys, I have to find my own... tribe?"

"It's dangerous out there." Cara didn't want to interrupt their measly fight, but yet she still did. Sitting in the corner of the room sipping coffee.

"It's better than being cooped up in this stupid tavern any longer." He grumbled.

Florian rolled his eyes, getting increasingly frustrated by how nonchalant Rowan was being about this. "These people are good at what they do. They're a hub for intergalactic smugglers, traders, hitmen, whatever you can think of. It's not just a tavern."

Cara sighed, "Florian, I can't exactly take the smell of whiskey for much longer either." As if on cue, she covered her nose and scrunched her face up, forming wrinkles.

"Fine." Florian said, annoyed with the two of them. "Did you guys make a pact to stop hating each other just to team up on me?" He chuckled, but it wasn't genuine. It wasn't the laugh that Cara knew.

Rowan was looking around the room. "Our little cabin doesn't seem to be very exciting." Rowan announced, staring at the 4 beds that looked hard as rocks. The old bookcase looked like it could topple over and flatten both Rowan's bed and Rowan himself.

Of course, Florian decided tampering with the bookcase was a good idea. "Hey guys, have any of you ever read this book?" He asked, showing it to both of them. It read, The Abstract Doctrine.

"Am I the only one who had to read a series of excerpts from that book?" Cara asked, looking around at Florian and Rowan expecting them to say no.

Neither replied, so Rowan broke the silence. "I didn't go to school. My... dad. He was uh- he was a criminal. But I'm a robot fugitive so we're really one in the same." He joked, but Cara could see the pain in his eyes.

That was the thing about Cara. After years of being trained in the Fallere Faction, you were able to see behind people's masks. Nobody could cover up their true feelings with lies. Cara of all people knew that.

Florian cleared his throat. "I'm reading the first page now. It's by Dr. Francesco Morrow. I've heard of him... like, a lot."

"He was one of the people that organized the borders. Dude, do you seriously not remember learning this in school?" Cara chortled.

Florian raised his eyebrow, to Rowan's dismay. "The book isn't very good?" He guessed.

"That's not it. This book... it's vague and general enough where it could be a coincidence but..." Florian looked shocked. Maybe even horrified.

"What?" Cara inquired.

"This book is practically a retelling of everything we just went through." Florian looked up from the book at the two of them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter was sentenced to two hours of homework for the audacious crime of listening during an English lecture. As always, most kids didn't take the lectures seriously. The most logical consensus Professor Autore could come to was to punish everybody, including Peter, with a truck load of homework.

Peter's room stretched out and came prepared with a studying desk, a library, 2 beds (one of which was for guests) 3 televisions depending on the part of the room you were in, a war artifacts collection, and a pedestal where his silver armor waited to be suited onto him for combat training.

His library had a bunch of fantasy novels he'd already read, so despite the fact it was full of thousands of books he never used it. They'd either been read, were too old to read, or were too boring to read. Still, he found another use for it. A white tarp sat on the library floor with 3 different canvases. Watercolor stained the dark wooden floors. It reminded him of what his mother said when they'd first moved in, This room needs a splash of color, doesn't it Pete?

Peter flipped through the pages of the textbook when a familiar voice called his name. "Peter!" His father yelled from downstairs. "It's time to go!"

Peter chucked the book to his left which awkwardly landed in a pile of blue paint. He frowned, and began staring at the pedestal. It was a gift from his father. You have to remember, this suit is a reminder of what we're fighting for.

"Peter, are you coming!?" His father called.

"Yes!" Peter snapped back.

"I don't like that tone!" He yelled back.

Frustrated, Peter grabbed his things and descended down the grand staircase of the Tempusvista Manor. Today, he would prove his father wrong.

He would defy the Tempusvista code.