The hum of wings. The musty, dew-filled summer morning air. Weeds rustling with small feet running through them, property of those who had not yet learned to fly. These were the thing the small mutant sensed as he slowly came out of his sleep, turning over in his bright red primrose bed. This was not a great wake-up.
Today was another festival of some sort held by the prince of the Land. Unlike annual things, dictated by the Sea order, these were usually randomly selected days out of the year to put off duties of tending to nature.
Every citizen of the Land and Sea had a specific job, whether that be caring for an animal or a plant. The elders of every small village would assign the newborns a Life- meaning what type of Life it would need to help grow. It was no surprise that the beings who actually took part in this process were fairies.
But there were also ranks; types of wings and color of wings. One fairy could have the most extravagant wings in the village, but if they were rust-blooded, they wouldn't be respected. If another fairy had average or unimpressive wings, but was indigo or purple-blooded, they would have authority over lower fairies. Fairies that had beautiful wings and a high blood caste were usually some sort of royal, or an adviser, or something of the sort.
Then, there were the mutants.
Fairies that were considered normal had two sets of wings; one main and another one secondary. The two sets worked together to make the fairy fly. Mutants were only born with one set, and so could not fly. The rulers and royalty of both the Land and Sea saw these fairies as useless, they thought that they could not possibly carry out their job as a functional being to care for a life. So any mutant found by any resident of the Kingdoms was supposed to be reported, captured, then tortured and killed on the Bridge- the thing that linked the Land and Sea fairies' worlds together- for all to see.
The one who we have focused on, Karkat Vantas, was a mutant; he had his main set of wings but not the smaller secondary one. To add, he had bright red blood, the color of cherry candy. Nobody could ever find out about him, so whenever he had to go out, he wrapped his back up in bandages to make it look like his smaller wings were damaged. Even when he did, he was pushed around, threatened, assaulted and many other offensive things because of his caste. He had no friends because he didn't trust anyone and was too afraid to take a risk. That and he was terrified of flight, since he could do no such thing.
He stared up at the soft blue sky, noticing how fast the clouds were moving today. That meant that the Weathers were preparing for the Royal Scouts to do their routine sweep of the kingdom, checking for mutants or criminals. Karkat sighed. He'd have to get out of his primrose today.
This was when he decided that he'd, for once, go to the Oak where the Prince held an opening ceremony before the festival of whatever kind began. It was something to do, something to occupy him while the Scouts looked through each and every flower or blade of grass to see whether someone was hiding. No, not just any someone; a mutant. They weren't considered part of fairykind, but a flaw.
So he sat up, stretching his arms, cracking his knuckles and rubbing his rosy skin to create warmth. He looked over to his bandages and pulled them towards himself, placing one end of the cloth ribbon on his stomach before dragging the roll of excuse-maker around and around, completely covering the part of his back where his smaller wings should be. He rubbed his hand in some pollen from the middle of his flower home, then spat in it, rubbing his hands together to make a bonding agent. He pulled up one end of the bandages and smeared the makeshift adhesive onto the underside, quickly pressing it to the rest of the costume. He didn't have any thorns to clip it on.
He stood up, making sure his wrap was tight, and treaded over to the end of one of the petals. He looked down and shuddered at the drop, carefully crouching down. He gripped onto the ends of the petal with both hands, swung downward, and built up momentum before hurling himself to the stem of the red bloom. He wrapped his limbs around it, swiftly sliding down. He landed on the cool ground and began walking with the crowd, quite lost. He had never been to the Oak before, nor seen the Prince, who was, apparently, the hot topic at the moment.
"I heard he still hasn't found a matesprit yet," said an adolescent mint-colored fairy with dragonfly wings.
"That's quite a surprise," replied her cyan-colored friend with a smirk, "He's honestly the most overwhelmingly attractive fairy in the Kingdom."
Karkat heard the female fairies go on and on about him, how he was so great, smart, fun, all good things about a tyrant in Karkat's eyes. If he was all he was rumored to be, wouldn't he have understood the stress of the mutants and at least tried to ban their unfair murder?
So the mutant ignored the comment about this rumored perfect prince. He just wanted to stay away from his home long enough not to get caught. That was all he was going to do. Nothing more.
When he arrived at the Oak, he could barely walk in a straight line. It was absolutely beautiful. The wood was lit with flickering flames, using a mixture of leaves and petals to send plumes of scented smoke into the air. Purple curtains hung down from the very top of the huge tree, being occupied by young fairies without consent of parents. In front of our protagonist was a huge white balcony, lit with bright, white-burning flames that made the throne and surrounding chairs possible to see.
Karkat stayed staring until a mother and her children rammed into him, not apologizing as they walked past. He started yelling and was about to curse her out when the Oak was completely engulfed in the roar of the crowd, cheering as the royal family emerged out of hallways on the side of the white balcony. A large, dark-purple tinted fairy with copious amounts of hair and monarch wings sat calmly on the main throne, nodding at his oldest son as he sat down. He had tattoos that looked like the inner frame of a fairy and lots of jewelry, the most noticeable being the golden, amethyst-studded rings that bound his mouth closed. The youngest approached the railing, grabbed a tight hold of it, and waved to the crowd.
Karkat now saw what all the other fairies had been saying. This boy looked amazing; his jet-black hair cascaded down his skull and curled around his face and neck in playful wisps, ending just where his neck met his shoulders. He had a draping crown, and it wrapped up around his horns until a teardrop-shaped amethyst pulled down the strings and hung in between the two curvy bones. He had a smile on his face as he greeted his subjects, and when he opened his eyes, Karkat needed to remember to breathe.
His bright eyes were a deep purple, so easy to see that Karkat could notice small indigo flecks branching out from the middle. But the one thing that shocked him the most, however, was that the Prince was staring straight at him.
Karkat felt his cheeks grow warm and he could not break his gaze. The Prince was looking into his own eyes, and he seemed apart from what he was doing. Soon, though, it was time to reveal just what the festival was about this time, and he reluctantly looked away from the short, seemingly injured fairy that caught his eye.
Soon everyone was dancing, opening booths, selling things, even drinking a little. It wasn't Karkat's particular favorite scene, however, and he decided to leave.
But before he could exit the Oak through the large opening in its front, his arm was grabbed by a strong hand, and out of instinct Karkat jerked back and bore his teeth, ready for attack. He wasn't going down against some mutant-hating-
"Hey, calm down, short one. No need to panic," Gamzee Makara, the Prince, said to the amazingly adorable candy-colored fairy currently glaring at him. "I just wanted to talk to you."
Karkat stared, trying to stop his blood from filling up his cheeks. The Prince had just approached him! Maybe he was suspicious of his bandages. Or his blood color.
Gamzee noticed that Karkat couldn't speak, and was having a very hard time keeping his blush hidden. The taller one smiled.
"What's your name?" he asked happily, letting go of the small troll's arm and standing up straight.
"Karkat…" the redblood said, shaking his head, "V-uhh, Vanta- Karkat Vantas."
Gamzee grinned and held out a hand, bowing.
"Well Karkat, certainly a cute sprite like you would have pity on a desperate one like me and dance with him?"
Karkat blushed even harder. This was getting way out of hand. Of course he wasn't going to-
"Sure…"
And with that, Gamzee grabbed the shorter fairy's hand and pulled him over, looking over at the royal orchestra and nodding. The players stopped the current song and started a new one, this time it having a fast tempo and light, airy trills.
Gamzee twirled Karkat around, and much to his dismay the small boy stumbled over his own feet, obviously not used to dancing. He laughed and pulled Karkat back up, being careful of the bandages around his torso. He didn't want to hurt what the other had already injured.
The rest of the time he spent was desperately trying to help Karkat dance, and it was amusing to see him blushing and glaring and obviously getting more and more flustered as he tripped repeatedly. Gamzee didn't mind, though, and enjoyed assisting him with his troubles.
When karkat saw the Scouts fly back into the Oak and disappear into the shadows of the top, he decided that it was time to leave. This was too humiliating anyway. People were laughing at him, and he didn't want to make the Prince feel terrible either. So, whilst in the middle of spinning around, he stopped, placing his hands on the purpleblood's chest.
"Your Majesty, I have to leave," he said, slowly trying to push away. He wasnted to get back home.
Gamzee, seeing his partner's hurry, hesitantly complied and let him go. But he wasn't going to let this be the last time he saw him.
He had his name.
Now what was his flower?