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It had taken joors for him to find a way to sneak away from the base and to this temple. Duty shifts had to be altered, favors traded for the mechs on guard to look the other way, caretakers arranged for the youngest of his sparklings. Even after all his work, he still had not gotten away cleanly; Frenzy had followed and would not allow his carrier to put him down once he had been discovered.
With soft words he had soothed the sparkling's fears. Frenzy was in recharge when he arrived at the temple, and the old priest who attended was more than happy to take the small mech and give him time alone in the prayer hall. He was grateful for that; what he had to say was for Primus' audios and no other's.
He drew out the small bag of crystallized energon—such a rare commodity now—and opened it. Carefully, he poured his sacrifice over the eternal flame. The fire crackled and popped as the fuel source burned and the flame turned from its normal blue to a rich violet. The old stories said the flame would continue to burn blue if the offering was not enough or turn red if it was unworthy; he knew these were just stories. It was a simple chemical reaction between the flame and the energon.
And even if it wasn't, there was no sacrifice left on Cybertron that could be unworthy.
With steady hands, he lit the prayer lanterns. The gestured comforted him with its route simplicity, though the lanterns were old and worn and the wicks did not always catch flame properly. He wondered how much longer they would last. He had often dreamed of sharing this activity—of sharing this belief—with his sparklings when they were old enough, but that seemed unlikely now. He forced himself not to sigh as the last of the lantern wicks caught flame and he set it down.
With practiced ease, he knelt in front of the small crescent of light. Unlike the eternal flame which burned blue from a planetary fuel source, the lanterns burned a soft yellow and cast long shadows behind him and down the hall. That was also soothing; the soft light comforted some part of him that had been hurting since the war began.
He retracted his facemask and visor and bowed his head. Once he was revealed to Primus as he had been created, he began murmuring the traditional prayers. They were long and sometimes pretentious, but he believed that was due to the decadence of past ages and not anything that their Creator had actually decreed. He deliberately omitted the most ridiculous of them; he saw no need to beg for wealth in a world that was so poor it couldn't even feed its own children or to ask for fame in the middle of a war. Instead, he changed his prayer to something deeper and much more personal.
He thought that Primus would approve.
Great Primus, Creator of us all,
I thank you this day for my life and the lives of my sparklings. I thank you for the gift of them, and pray that you grant them long existences and a future that is free of war and starvation.
I thank you for the place I have been given among the Decepticons and the favor I have found with my lord. May your blessings be upon us all, that we may end this struggle and rebuild our world.
I thank you for this place and the priest who once raised me as his own offspring. Show mercy to him and take him from this place soon, that he may not have to be another casualty to the hatred that infects our world.
I thank you for the chance to make a change in our world, violent and terrible though it may be.
I thank you… for everything.
He did not close his prayers with hollow words or empty praises. Primus understood, he was certain. And besides, this ritual took up too much of his time each meta-cycle and Megatron was beginning to grow impatient with his beliefs. Next meta-cycle, it seemed unlikely that he would be able to get away for his thanksgiving ritual at all unless there was a temple or shrine on their base.
He leaned forward and put the lanterns out with a soft exhalation of atmosphere, preserving their usefulness a bit longer. He stood and left the prayer hall, intent on finding the old priest and retrieving Frenzy.
He found them in the priest's tiny quarters. Frenzy was playing quietly on the floor with a few construction tools that he remembered from his own youth. The priest was seated in a chair, turned so that he could watch the young mech, but his dim optics saw nothing. He took in the grey frame with a mix of sadness and relief.
"Frenzy, come. It is time to return."
Frenzy stood and walked to him. He picked the sparkling up and held him tightly for, allowing himself a moment of sentiment. Megatron would fault him for wasting time but in this place, he answered only to Primus.
"We must retrieve supplies before leaving. We will need them at the base."
Frenzy gave him a puzzled nod, but didn't protest as he walked back to the prayer hall. He retrieved the prayer lamps, placing them in his subspace one by one. The last he relit with the eternal flame before cutting off its fuel supply. Carefully, he handed the final lamp to Frenzy, trusting the small mech not to drop or break it.
The ritual would be different next year, but their world would welcome the change. Guided by the light of the small prayer lantern that would become a new eternal flame, they left the old temple for the last time.