Homestuck; The Constallation Prophecy

Prologue

Many sweeps ago, on the planet known as Beforus, an old troll sits in her hive, golden tapestries hung on the walls, along with many scrolls in barrels and in square shaped containers. Her eyes a deep candy red, she stares off into oblivion.

Crash!!!!

"Gog dammit! Could you, for the love of Gog, please be just a little more careful with those scales?" The elder screeches at her bumbling assistant, who is covered in powders and potions of the contents that had been balancing on the delicate instruments, his cheeks a deep russet color in his embarrassment. He mutters apologies and her expression softens a little at her protégé. Standing, she moves to help him pick up the pieces of the now shattered piece of equipment, as well as the scattered phials, "Young one, please do not worry. Your time will come and your moment of truth shall reveal itself," she assures the young troll, "you shall do great things in the times to come. And we shall laugh when we remember this day. The day of the tipping scales." she teases, poking his nose. The young troll smiles at her words, enjoying the company of an elder and her wisdom.

"But what if I cannot do what you say I am capable of?" he questions, worried over what he may have to do in his future. Whatever that may be.

"If you are capable of it, you will do it. I say you are able to, and you must believe you can." The elder answers him. They finish cleaning up the mess and she sends him off to his own hive.

"Mother?" another young troll calls to the elder. She turns to the direction of the voice and smiles down to the child. He walks over to her, and she bends down to scoop up her only son, cradling him in her arms.

"Hello, my son. Did you have a pleasant lesson today?" she asks the child, who nods.

"Yes." he answers her. The elder frowns when she sees that he is holding something back.

"What is it?" she questions, a stern but worried look upon her face.

"Some of the other trolls have been speaking and whispering... They say we are mutants... Monsters. That our blood color is something to be feared instead of curiously thought about.." The child tells his mother, who frowns.

"Do not listen to them, young one. Those who speak of such things are close minded simpletons, who know nothing of the true meaning of harmony or even the true meaning of thought." the elder assures him, the child nods in understanding, "Now, run along and get to sleep. The sun is about to appear, and I wish you not get burned by the harshness of its rays." she ushers her son to his recouporacoon. Soon after he falls asleep, she moves back to her desk and pulls out a leather bound book, the parchment old and worn but familiar to her eyes. Many times have she opened and written in this book, for it was the Journal. The book she had recorded the most important words and thoughts over her entire life. Before she had been interrupted, she had seen a vision. She picks up one of her chalks and begins recording the details of what she had seen in the dream.

But, little did she know, she had been watched. Neophyte Redglare, the head assassin of the Subjuggulator, had been watching the small family for quite some time, leaning against a tree and chewing on a few strands of her hair. She smirks at her plan, and the orders he had given her, but is soon broken out of her reverie as another troll in an aquamarine colored dress makes her way over to her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Neophyte." The female calls, making the other troll frown. How had she known she would be here of all places?

"I should be saying the same to you, Moon." Neophyte rasps, making the other troll chuckle softly.

"You have your orders, I have mine." The other female responds.

"Please, all you're here to do is get in my way. His highness has given me my orders. I don't want anything to do with Condesce. Beat it, Lunarian. Before I beat you." Neophyte growls, tightening her grip on the dragon head hilt of her hidden swords.

"My, my. Getting a little hostile, are we?" Lunarian teases, spinning her long staff in one hand and smirking, "All I'm here for is to carry out my boss' orders. It isn't like I chose this assignment. Considering I have to deal with the likes of you." she counters, pointing the tip of her staff towards Neophyte, who growls.

"Watch it. Don't make me inform Subjuggulator of your actions." Neophyte threatens, nodding towards the troll and using the covered tip of her swords to knock the staff head away from her face. The two females stand there for a few minutes, glaring at each other. Soon, there is a crash a scream and yelling coming from the village.

"Now look at what you've done, Neon. It seems we've missed our cues and our signal." Lunarian pouts teasingly before turning on her heel and heading towards the village, where many of those serving under both the Grand Highblood and Her Imperious Condescension tear apart the village, searching for the Prophet and her Journal.

Upon hearing the shouts, the Prophet gathers her Journal and hides it away before running to her son's room and collecting him from his recouporacoon. The drowsy child is quickly cleaned off and wrapped back in his travelling cloak. The prophet exits her hive amidst the smoke and screams coming from both her village and the other trolls.

"There they are!" shouts one of the guards, who ushers two more of the guards to tear the two apart from one another, and the Prophet is forced to her knees before Neophyte, who smirks down at the lowblood. The young child is forced from his mother's arms and he scrambles to get away at her behest. But, he soon hears a scuffle behind him, but forces himself to keep running.

"You should never have been hatched!" Neophyte screeches at the Prophet, whose head hangs loosely as her hair curtains her bloody face, "You mutants, you sicken me!" She continues to rasp, kicking the now weaker troll to the ground, "You plague this world with your vile infection! You mutants and your pathetic ways!" she screeches, kicking the Prophet one last time. The female lay on the ground, bloody and bruised as tears run down her thin face. Lunarian searches the burning house, her long sleeve covering her mouth and nose as she forces herself to continue her search for the Journal. She makes her way down to the cellar, where it seems several vegetables have been disturbed. At first, she thinks nothing of it, but stops in her tracks as a picture passes through her mind of a female in a long, black and red flowing robe moves a few apples and cabbages out of the way, placing a leather bound book underneath them and placing them back on top of it, but in her haste, knocking down a few of the cabbages with the sleeve of her robe as she hurried to exit the cellar. Lunarian turns around slowly after blinking away the vision, telling herself it was only the smoke that had caused such a hallucination. She slowly inches back towards the pile of vegetables, moving the apples and the cabbages away from the spot she had seen in the vision, her blue eyes widen, seeing the cover of the Journal. The one thing she had been sent for. But something had told her not to take it, to let it burn. Or at least to hide it where no one could find it nor it be damaged by the steadily growing flames. Upon reaching down and picking up the small book, she finds herself opening a chest, and storing the book inside. Perhaps she could come back for it later?

The child rushes out of the village, but ends up tripping on a root. He falls, crying out as he scrapes his knee along with his elbow. The Dolorosa, who had rushed to the village on foot in order to aid the Prophet, sees her son and the blood that began to flow out of his wounds. She gasps before scooping up the small child and running away from the village with him in her arms, careful to hide his wounds in her cloak.

Lunarian exits the small hive, coughing slightly. One of the guards offers her some water, which she drinks gratefully before handing the water skin back to the guard and turning to him, "There is no Journal. Burn it all." She instructs before heading over to Neophyte and the Prophet, who still lay bloody and bruised on the ground. Neophyte sneers over at Lunarian once she gets close enough to her to see. Lunarian rolls her eyes and lifts Prophet up, looking into her candy red eyes and practically right into her soul, "What did you see, Venusara?" she enquires, using the Prophet's true name.

"In the light, there will become darkness..." The Prophet manages to say, "The sun and the moon will be at war... but the sky and the moon will band together, along with the twelve constellations... And save the light and the dark from the very darkness..." She tells Lunarian before coughing out blood onto her face. Lunar lets go of Venusa and she falls back to the ground. Lunarian stands, turning to Neophyte, "She's all yours." she tells the female before brushing past her, noticing Dolorosa and the young male troll fleeing from the scene. She watches the child's horrified face turn to pure terror as he watches Neophyte drive her sword through his mother's neck and her blood pools around her. Lunarian turns away from it all.