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Gamzee was exhausted. He was beyond exhausted. He had been hiking these woods for so long without food and water that rest seemed like a lie. Yet finally, he found the small cabin, just big enough for a hiker to lay down their pack. He knocked on the door in the correct pattern. He was rewarded by Bishop Hank opening the door. Bishop Hank was dressed in seasonably for March in plaid flannel. Gamzee had so many layers and he was soaked through them with sweat, mud, and lake water. Gamzee stumbled into the cabin. It was lit by many candles. In the middle of the cabin was a plastic chair and on the floor a purple pillow. Bishop Hank took Gamzee’s large backpack. It was not filled with anything important or useful. Gamzee’s shoulders seized up as the weight was lifted. The backpack was put in a corner. Gamzee stripped his wet clothes off slowly until he was completely naked in front of a fully-dressed Hank.
Bishop Hank said, “Kneel.”
Gamzee knelt clumsily on the purple pillow. Bishop Hank got a two-liter of Faygo Moon Mist Green, opened it up, and put it at Gamzee’s lips. Gamzee drank readily. This was the elixir of the Gods. Soon, Bishop Hank took the bottle away and closed it again, leaving Gamzee burping. He sat down on the plastic chair in front of Gamzee.
“Are you ready to hear the wicked truth?” Bishop Hank asked in his heavy Yopper accent.
Gamzee nodded.
“We are not human.”
Gamzee nodded again. He’d been hearing that from the first day and he wanted to know more.
“You know we are not human. We are reincarnated aliens. You have known that for a long time. Right?”
Gamzee nodded.
Bishop Hank took out an MP3 player. “This is the name of our species.”
“This is the name of our planet.”
“We say ‘troll’ and ‘Alternia’. Say it.”
“Troll…Alternia.”
“What are you?”
“A troll.”
“Where are you from?”
“Alternia.”
“What are you not?”
“Human.” Gamzee lolled his head. “What be my name?”
Bishop Hank put a finger to his lips. “Not yet.” He put it down. “We were the dominant species. We were warriors. We took over galaxies so far away that scientists don’t know about them. We were ruled by an empress. We call her, Her Imperious Condescension.”
“Condensation?”
“Condescension. As in the attitude. It is just a human translation, though. Anyway, we had a great empire. Yet it all ended in the Reckoning.”
Gamzee recalled he heard that term before in his first service.
Bishop Hank continued, “Meteors fell on Alternia. One hit a creature with a voice that can kill all the trolls except our Empress. She was the Empress’ pet. We call her Gl'bgolyb.”
Glubglub? Did Gamzee hear that right? He might have said it outloud.
“Gl’bgolyb killed off the troll species. Yet she is innocent. As a minor god, she cannot err.”
“Who be the one to blame?”
“That is for us to decide.”
“Oh.” Gamzee wanted to kill that person, whoever they were, wherever they were.
“It is because of Gl’bgolyb we were all reborn on Earth. The Empress did not have enough speed to reach Alternia on time, but she has enough to get to Earth.”
“Has?”
“She has been traveling for eons to get here. Soon she will come.”
“How soon?”
“Soon.”
Gamzee felt like sleeping soon.
Bishop Hank continued, “We do not worship the Empress. Even she is just a tool. She is not one of us. We worship the Twin Gods.”
Gamzee perked up. He had heard of them.
“They are two souls in one body. Their body is dark green and muscular with a head like a skull. If they want to, they can change into a snake the size of a planet. The brother is the Lord of Time. His cheeks are red. He dresses in red. He brings death and destruction. His name is…Caliborn.”
“In English or Alternian?”
Bishop Hank seemed slightly peeved. “His name is Caliborn.” He then continued. “The sister is the Muse of Space. Her cheeks are bright green. She dresses in black. She brings life and expansion. Her name is Calliope.”
“She be cute?”
“Cute how?” Bishop Hank raised an eyebrow. “Sexy?”
“No. Cute like baby.”
Bishop Hank shrugged. “I guess she’s cute. She’s a snake god.”
“Sound motherfucking adorable.”
Bishop Hank grabbed Gamzee’s wavering chin. “Pay attention. This is important. Who do you worship?”
“The Twin Gods.”
“Who are the Twin Gods?”
“Caliborn…Lord of Time…Calliope….Muse of Space.”
Bishop Hank opened the bottle of soda again and poured some more down Gamzee's throat.
“Which God is more powerful?”
“Huh? I can’t remember. Why can’t I be remembering?”
“Because I did not tell you which one is more powerful. Both are more powerful than you can imagine. Both fight against each other. Yet it is unknown who will win. Whoever wins, we will worship.”
“Can’t the motherfuckers get along?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I’m an only child so I ain’t really knowing how this shit goes down, but sibs can learn to get along, you know?”
“It is their destiny to fight.”
“Seems motherfuckin’ sad. They should get along like me and Loz.”
Bishop Hank looked off to the side. “Yes, you two do get along.” He looked back at Gamzee. “Yet you must understand that the struggle of the Lord of Time and the Muse of Space gives meaning to the universe.”
“Okay. Do fathers exist? What ‘bout mothers?”
“The mother of the Twin Gods is Calamity and the father-”
“Did I got parents? As an alien?”
“We all came from what is called the Mother Grub and are raised by creatures called lususes.”
“I want my momma. Please, get my momma.”
Bishop Hank gave Gamzee more soda.
“We are your mother and father now.”
“Oh, fuck, I’m an orphan. Forgot that.”
“No, you have the Family.”
“Sweet. I have the Family.”
“Will you do everything for the Family?”
Gamzee nodded.
“Will you do anything for the Family?”
Gamzee nodded.
“Would you kill for the Family?”
He paused a second before nodding.
“Would you overthrow the government for the Family?”
He definitely nodded.
“On Alternia, there were heretics who tried to tear down the Church. The greatest of them all, we call the Signless, since he did not wear a proper sign. His blood was bright red.”
“Red be bad?”
“His red was bad. It was a sign he should have been destroyed at hatching. Yet the one who was supposed to destroy him betrayed us, and he was allowed to live. He threatened the Church like nobody else before or after, all because he could not accept his destruction.”
“Good for him. I mean, bad. Fuck that buffalo.”
“Yes, fuck that buffalo. He was sacrificed finally to the Lord of Time. Yet even he was reincarnated.”
“Ooooh, fuck. Who he be?”
“We do not know yet.”
“I will kill that motherfucker.”
“Perhaps you will.”
“Wicked.”
“Whatever we do, we do it to bring forth the Dark Carnival.”
“How?”
“When our Empress arrives, we will take over the Earth and bring it into proper worship of the Twin Gods. Then, we will get the Paradise Planet.”
“Do the Paradise Planet have Faygo?”
“All the Faygo in every flavor.”
“Sweet.”
Bishop Hank gave Gamzee some more Faygo.
“Now, to tell you your name.”
“Yeah, what do my motherfucking name be?”
Bishop Hank picked up the MP3 player again. He pushed play.
Bishop Hank said, “Say the name.”
Gamzee said it.
Bishop Hank said, “Say the name.”
Gamzee said it again.
Bishop Hank petted Gamzee’s head. “Good.”
“What be your name?”
Bishop Hank told him his name.”
“I be liking your name better.”
“Do you have any more questions?”
“Can I get my sleep on?”
“Tell me what you know.”
“We be trolls from the planet Alternia. Our species be killed by…Glubglub. The empress be coming. We worship Calliope and Caliborn. I love Faygo. I hate the heretic. I have family. We be overthrowing the government after I nap.”
“That will be all, son.”
Gamzee felt a warm joy. He knew the truth now after all this time and now he could finally rest. What dreams would come?
Bishop Hank got up. He went to the corner and picked up a sleeping bag. After making space on the floor, he rolled the bag out. Gamzee got inside and soon he was snoozing.
Bishop Hank felt Gamzee was stupid. Yes, it was unfair to judge Gamzee while he was exhausted, but Kurloz had been much sharper at this point. It made sense since Kurloz was a mature adult when he died in his past life whereas Gamzee died as a child.
He took a fresh Moon Mist Faygo Green soda and drank it. It was odd talking so much. It went against his Finnish-American upbringing. Yet he knew it was important to talk as a man of the cloth. This idiot lying naked before him would be a fresh soldier. Next service, there would be a sacrifice and this idiot had better take his hit.
Gamzee was sitting in that gray room and his hands were gray and in them was a purple device like a squishy iPad. The screen looked like this:
He knew instinctively what that meant. This was knowledge. Important knowledge. He pressed the screen to continue. A video played…and it told him about MiRaClEs.