Disclaimer: Don't own Homestuck or any of the characters, just the concept.

Prologue: To That Moment, Part One: John

John was born to a father and a mother that loved him, a baker that loved humor and a seamstress that loved the baker. John knew the seamstress loved him and his father dearly, but she'd been forced to go when a fairy flu got a hold on her frail body just after John was born, and being barely a wisp of a fairy, she'd died in the next few hours. Dad Egbert had been dedicated to taking care of his son, however, and had done this in addition to continuing his work as a baker.

As John got older, he began to work in the bakery with his father, and quickly decided he hated it. Being about seven at the time, he didn't know better than to bluntly say this to Dad Egbert. Dad just laughed, shaking his head, and telling his son that, in time, his wings would change and give him his niche in the fairy colony, something he'd excel at, and that this was only temporary. John had grudgingly agreed to keep helping his father, and after a while learned to conceal his abhorring for the job in favor of putting on a smile for the customers, learning that this often led to better tips in the jar than if he was pouty and moody.

His childhood was also filled with eager friendships, mainly with those who shared his classes at school. Of these fairies, three stood out as his best friends.

There was, first and foremost, Dave, his "best bro for life," determined in following his brother's path in making new types of music featuring "sicknasty beats," other enterprises, and of course, being a master of irony. He liked to draw terrible pictures and call them comics, selling them after a terrible coloring job for a surprisingly good price. He also always wore shades and tried to maintain a cool, impassive attitude, mirroring his older brother in this as well, but often failed to contain his stronger feelings. When he'd had his thirteenth birthday, John had gifted him a new pair of shades on a whole new level of irony than those his bro had given him, and he'd worn them since. He believed he'd be a member of the secret guardians of the court, though he'd never say exactly why, and was a wealthier kid, not bad with a long sword either.

Rose was another of his friends, and his childhood crush; when she turned thirteen, he'd gifted her a knitting kit, and since then, she'd been making things from it and saying that she was almost positive her niche would be tailor or seamstress, something of the sort. They'd dated for a short while when they were about fourteen, before Rose discovered she had more of an affinity for other females and broke it to John and their other friends, who were all okay with it; it was not uncommon in their society. Her mother shared the affinity for women, but liked men as well, though Rose's sire was unknown. This was simply because she wasn't born normally, like some fairies; she was the result of an enchantment that had grown popular since the growth of same-sex marriages in the colony, though the enchantment did not work with the male marriages. Rose's origin never seemed to matter to her, however, as she was a completely happy fairy with plenty of friends.

Lastly, there was Jade, who was like John's sister, always there for him. She helped him sort out emotions, and often pointed things out that he was too oblivious, or perhaps too stubborn, to see, such as Dave's crush on him in their youth, continuing into their teenage years. She was good with firearms, and often impressed John, not just with her ability with weapons, but with her ability to be completely calm in most situations unless she was pushed to her very limit, or if one of her close friends were distressed. She was talented with tools, entirely convinced that it was in her future to be an inventor and adventurer, with unique views and an uncanny ability to predict things before they happened to the specifics, even if she'd had no clue of it beforehand. Her downfalls were her narcolepsy, which made it dangerous to work with sharp or otherwise dangerous objects, and that she could be a bit forgetful.

Other friends came and went, one standing out particularly to John whenever he thought about it. It was a boy named Karkat, who had been born with crippled wings and had been going through treatment for it at the time. He was a few years older than John, and had been Jade's friend first; John remembered Karkat's confession of single-minded hatred for John just before he'd stolen his first kiss, even before he'd dated Rose, as he'd been twelve at the time, and Karkat fifteen. He'd immediately told Karkat he didn't like guys like that, even though the kiss had made him feel light on the inside, and his wings, still translucent, oval-shaped, and useless, like those of others his age, had fluttered a little, almost managing to lift him from the ground.

Karkat had disappeared about a month later, and John had immediately thought it had been because of his rejection, because Karkat had been a bit more closed to him after that, though they'd been considerably good friends before the incident. His narrow mind didn't even consider any other possibilities, and he worried himself sick over it until Jade had finally told him that Karkat had had surgery done on his wings, which had been successful with the help of a pinch of magic, and while he was recovering his wings had filled out for his niche, placing him as a lower guard or soldier. That's why he hadn't returned to school or his neighborhood; he was currently in training, and afterwards would take up his position as a fighter for the colony.

John kept growing after that, the whole thing slowly fading from his mind until Karkat was nothing but a faint memory, and soon enough, he and his friends were fifteen and eagerly awaiting the times when their wings would fill in as well. Once they started, it could take up to two weeks for their transformation to be complete, and those with their wings forming earlier than others liked to boast about how their wings clearly said they'd be something before they were fully formed, and they ended up being something else. The four friends had to wait, and wait, and wait for their wings though. They were collectively some of the last to have their wings form, but when they did, they were all within a week of one another. Rose, who was about a year older than all of them in actuality, had had to wait a little longer, but had seemed the most pleased when her wings began forming. She had joked about waiting for the others, but John could tell her distress at the long wait, even if it wasn't all that unusual to have "forming stranglers" in each generation.

When their wings were all fully formed, they each had nothing to say. They were speechless. None of them knew what their wing signs mean- none but Rose, and she refused to say on the grounds that she wasn't certain. However, a few days later, John opened the bakery for his father, and not half an hour after starting work, two guards, elites, no less, had stormed into the room. Actually, it was more of a polite, if unexpected entry, and a decree of, "The council requests the presence of John Egbert, due to need for wing marking identification."

John had been scared witless. Surely, surely this wasn't so big of a deal that the council had to get involved? His father hadn't protested against this, however. He only smiled and gave his son a hug, muttering, "I'm so, so proud of you John. I'll see you later." Then he'd handed John his bag and sent him with the guards, going outside to wave after them. John had felt that somehow, this goodbye was more permanent than Dad was letting on, and his parent knew it. He had a feeling that his father was doing exactly what John was at that moment as a few fat, warm tears were allowed to roll down his face.

"You're not in trouble," one of the guards had said as he noticed John was crying. "In fact, if those wings," he'd gestured towards the fairy boy's wings with a little smile, "are what the council thinks they are, then you and your friends are very lucky, and your father knows it. You'll have to stay within the council's immediate area for a while, though, so unfortunately you won't be seeing your father often, if at all." His smile was apologetic, and he was hushed by the other guard, so said no more.

That is how John now found himself before the council with his three best friends, processing what he was just told, that he was the Heir of Breath, one of the four Gifted fairies from his generation, his wings clearly showing this. He was special, and his friends were special, and they had to learn how to control the powers that came with being special and wielding them in a way that would help, not hurt.

They would also need to be guarded for their own protection- each of them as individuals were apparently more important than the entire council.

They'd be allowed to select their own guards out of the ranks of the best elite squadron, though only one for each of them, and it would be based entirely on first impressions based on looks. Apparently, it would also count as a test of skill for those chosen, but John was more excited to see what the guards could do, although a little disheartened at the fact that he wouldn't see his father for a while.

As he walked through the halls of the council tree towards the room where the squadron would be held, Dave, Jade, and Rose with him, along with a few lesser guards and a couple of council members, his mind was racing a mile a minute as it processed everything that had happened. He even bumped into a wall when they were entering the little room because he was so distracted, drawing some amount of chuckling from Jade and Rose, though Dave was stoic as ever. The council members even shared exasperated looks, as if they couldn't believe he was Gifted.

John stepped into the room in embarrassment and took a look around. It was a small room, only about the size of the bakery back home (the thought of which sent a sharp twisting feeling through his gut), though with a domed ceiling and walls forming an octagon, instead of the usual box shape. There was another door on the wall opposite that which they'd entered, and as he watched, it opened, letting in a dozen or so soldiers. His eyes watched each of the elites as they filed in; these knew every nasty pixie trick, every sprite ally and enemy, how to destroy will-o-wisps, and so much more. He could feel himself gawking in awe, before one of the council elders touched his shoulder.

"Show no awe for these fairies, for you are above them, above us all," the elder said sagely, before dipping his head and stepping back.

John frowned at that. He wasn't really better than anyone! But when the elders told them they could, he and his friends stepped forward to inspect the elites more closely. He noticed the commander of the squadron kept glancing at his troops, as if he were nervous, though he remained straight-faced; after watching for a few moments, John pinpointed his gaze to be on a particular fairy near the middle of the group. Curious, he approached the fairy, then stopped to stare in awe.

His strong jaw squared in defiance, crimson eyes staring straight ahead, the fairy looked as though he had a vicious hatred for the world, though there was something else in those eyes- perhaps underlying fear and compassion, John guessed? His wings were unlike anything he'd ever seen, too- the bottom set had the pattern similar to dripping blood like the soldier himself possessed on the higher set of red wings, almost the bright color of candied apples, though they had darker outlines and markings, like all matured wings. There were two sickles at his hip, made of a few sharp angles instead of curved and the glint of steel making him look even more brutal, his wild, untamed black hair adding to the effect. He wore all black and gray, excepting the laces and pocket-covers of his tunic, both of which were a crimson to match his eyes and wings, and plates on his upper arms to guard them, made of leaves like all other armor. Though, John did think it was a little odd that he wasn't wearing the armor plates over his left shoulder and the part of his chest where his heart should be like all the other elites here, and he wasn't even wearing shoes!

"You," he said decidedly, seeming to surprise himself, the soldier, and the commanding chief of the squadron, who immediately darted forward upon the proclamation from John, slipping between him and the soldier.

"Surely you don't mean him?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head. "Not him, not really? Surely, there's another here you believe to look more capable of protecting you than him?" The soldier just stood there, looking shocked and angry.

"I want him," John said firmly, glowering at the commander and pushing him aside. "He's the one I think looks like he can protect me best. I choose him."

"But- Heir of Breath, please, he's not-"

"I'm not an elite, the commander fucked up and picked my sorry ass up by mistake," the soldier growled in explanation, eyes narrowing as his voice held clear sarcasm. "I'm not fucking good enough to protect you. Pick someone else."

"No." The Gifted's voice was firm, eyes fierce, as he turned to the soldier. "You are good enough to protect me. I believe in you, and I chose you. That should be all that matters, right? Isn't my choice over all of yours?" His gaze swept around the room, daring anyone to question it after this had been made so clear. Dave gave him a proud little thumbs-up, his own chosen elite standing by his shoulder; but right now, John hardly gave him a second glance. He gave a firm little nod as he turned back to the soldier. "That's what I thought. Now, I choose you, um…. What's your name?" He gave the soldier a sheepish grin.

His grin was met with a gruff scowl. "Karkat Vantas, sir."

Here's chapter one, of this, guys! I just couldn't wait until F&G was over, sorry, but I'm still working on that, too. :3

I'd also like to introduce my friend and beta reader for this story, Xiuru! She's gonna be a big help with those little mistakes. :3 (Change of plans, though, she didn't beta read this chapter yet, I was anxious to get it up, I'll post the beta read version later.)

-Silver