What is it to be free? Is it a dream? Or is it a state of being? What defines freedom? To do what you wish? To have the privilege to make your own decisions? So many boundaries lie before the path of freedom. Chains try to bind us to control and order. Every way you turn is a wall, a road block, a mountain. Despair controls the lives of most people. Everywhere you go is dark and cold as a prison. Dreams don't exist. Most of us wait for a savior. Someone who will show us how to be free. Being free means to dream. They say freedom is a beautiful word, a beautiful thing. When you dream without fear and live without oppression, all you need now is for your life to embrace it. Does anyone know how to though? When do dreams become reality? Moments of freedom are like falling snow. They last for barely a moment before disappearing. They fade like the dying sun, fleeting as the last rays of sunlight leave the sky and plunge the world into darkness. Fragile as butterflies, they are beautiful and pure. They disappear. There's nothing anyone can do about it.
These walls are real though. Not some thought or figment of the imagination built to give substance to the trapped feeling one gets. They're made of wood, roughly cut and topped with spikes. They stand at 40 feet tall, too high for a normal person to climb; too high to get to from a roof. The wood is covered in splinters. No one even wants to touch it, lest they get hurt. Two gates were set in the northern most wall. They rarely opened. No one was ever allowed to leave the village. There wasn't a rule saying they couldn't. It was more a fear of what was outside.
Set in the middle of the village sat a small schoolhouse where the children gathered every day. Carvings of the lusus naturae decorated the outside walls. Depictions of the great beasts could be found everywhere now that they were no longer custodians of the ruling races young. The yard was empty, on account of the rain pouring down, save for one.
Draped in black and wrapped in shadows, not a defining color stood out among the gloom. One lone gleam of gold could be seen when the light hit just right. Shoulders lay hunched against the wind, back against the building and arms crossed against his chest. Sollux. His face was turned up to the rain. None would know it, but among the rain that slipped down his cheeks were tears. His breath was even. There was no hiccuping or labored breathing. Yet he cried.
It was his 8th sweep.
Birthdays are supposed to be happy occasions. They're moments when family gathers and celebrates the continued life of another. In most other places he would still be in bed, allowed to stay home from school. It was still like that for many people here. A trolls eighth sweep was their coming of age. It was the time that most would marry and settle down. It was a horrible time to be alive.
For the third time that morning his eyes were drawn down to his wrists and the veins prominent there. He cursed his blood color. He was a freak. Before his family came here, he was normal. His blood color was common where he came from. Here...here he was alone. He didn't even share the blood colors of his parents. Fleeting wishes of being a blue blood like his mother or even red blooded like his father were lost on the wind as so many before. It had nothing to do with being ashamed of the color. It was golden. It had everything to do with the lack of power, with the fact that he had to obey.
"Wwhy the fuck are you standing around, mustard blood?" A sharp pain bit into his ear as clawed fingers grabbed it and tugged. The startled troll stumbled, not having had a way to brace himself. There was still no way to brace himself or even right himself as he was jerked forward again. In this way he was led into the classroom and dropped in his seat. A hot flush rushed to his cheeks. This was the third time that week. He looked up into the eyes of his abuser.
Dualscar. A detestable person on the best of days and the devil himself on others. His blood was purple and fins swayed from his neck. Seadweller. No one knew why his family was inland. There was supposedly an ocean just past the gates, but no one believed it. He was, unfortunately, Sollux's teacher. He suspected it was from his sadistic tendencies that he taught the kids. They couldn't do anything about it since he was an adult. A stupid law that prevented children from lashing out.
"Mutt's can't afford to fuck up their education, noww can they, piss blood?" Oh. An age old insult. It had the desired effect. Sollux's fists clenched under the desk, claws tearing into the fabric of his jeans. Mutt, piss blood, mutant, freak. They rang in his ears. He'd been hearing them all his life. How his eyes were two different colors, that his eyes even had colors when no ones eyes changed until well past their eighth sweep. How he had two sets of horns or the elongated teeth that gave him a lisp. The insults and abuse never stopped. He didn't know why it would today.
"Noww that the entire class is here." What was he saying...He knew that the royal blood was talking, but nothing beyond that. His head was lost in the clouds. Not like it mattered. What did they even learn in school? The caste system, the laws and...was there anything else? Did it even matter?
"Sludge blood!" A solid cuff to the head and he was brought from his thoughts. He reached up to cradle his cheek, dull eyes looking up at the teacher. "Your eight swweep does not givve you special privvileges. Pay attention."
"You know...There'th a funny thing about that." His words were slow, thought out and deliberate as he stood up. "Becauthe it'th my eighth thweep, I don't have to thit in here and lithten to your drivel. I'm officially an adult now. Thtaying here ith my choice, and while thome other'th might thtay here after that mark, I'm not. I'm not going to wathte what little amount of "freedom" I have being abuthed by a purple blood with a power complex. I'm going to be married thoon...or dead...why would I wathte the time between now and then with you?"
"Married? Please. Wwhat sane troll wwould wwant you for a marriage? You're a mutated freak. Beyond worthless. No better then the dirt beneath my feet." There was a sneer plastered to his face, malicious and sadistically gleeful. He stood in front of the smaller trool, blocking him from moving any further. "Why don't you go back to wherever you came from, little boy? I'm sure they'd take your pretty little face and put it to good use in a prostitute den. It's the only thing you could ever be good for."
"You think I'm pretty? Why Dualthcar...I never knew you felt that way." He'd stood up on his tip-toes as he said it, eyelids lowered seductively. He was effectively in the other trolls bubble. Dualscar backed away and it was enough for Sollux to slip past towards the door, hands raised in a defeated gesture. "You're probably right, but I'd take a prothtitute den any day over living in a place where I have no control over my own life." He turned to walk out the door, tossing a wave over his shoulder. "You coming, kk?"
He didn't even have to turn around to know that his friend was following. That was the thing about Karkat. He acted like the biggest shithead on the planet. He cussed everyone out, he got angry at everything and nothing and he acted like he hated the world. When it came down to it though, he was actually really...kind. He was helpful when something was going wrong and you couldn't figure it out. He was always there when things were bad and he tried to cheer his friends up as best he could. It was one of the reasons he was Sollux's best friend. Within no time, Sollux was back to his normal, if not exactly happy, mood. Karkat had a stick in his hand and he was waving it around like a cane, walking as pompously as he could while doing an impression of their teacher. It was a crappy impression. It had Sollux smiling, or smirking in his case.