Albus was trapped in the circus for five years. By the time he was sixteen all the rage that had been cultivating inside of him exploded. He couldn't take it anymore. He had been betrayed, sold like an animal, tortured and abused all his life. If the world was going to hurt him, what was stopping him from doing the same to others. One night after being locked in his cage, he wiggled his fingers in between the bars and began scrapping dirt towards himself. When enough had piled up at the edge of his cage he scooped it into his hands and held it for a while.
He had watched the other gargoyles do their little crafting tricks all the time. He thought, well he was one of them, so he should be able to do what they can do too. To create things from nothing. At least that's what he told himself. Problem was, he didn't know how to. Was he supposed to chant something? Was there a specific material he was supposed to use? He didn't know anything but the desperation and adrenaline flooding through his veins spurred him onward.
For a while he sat there trying to focus, but nothing happened. Frustration began to build within him. He remembered hearing that normally gargoyle children awaken to their powers between the ages of three and five years old, but he never did find any information on half-breeds. He clung to the bars in his cage, the blisters and cuts burned as his hands tightened around them. He tried again and again but with the same results. Finally, he let the dirt fall to the ground and his hands fall limp at his side.
Curled in a cramped corner of his cage, his lips quivered and head pounded as he fought back tears. Helplessness overtook him and despite his best efforts the frustration that ate away at him finally overflowed and he began to cry. He had been beaten and tortured, abused and used and yet as he looked at the bruises and sores on his palms and knees, he couldn't remember a time in his life when he felt like more of a failure than he did in that moment and for the first time in his life, he cried.
A sharp gasp was ripped from his throat as his muffled sobs stole his air. He shut his eyes tight, covering his eyes with his hands and letting the sounds of his hollowed chest fill the desolate prison he was in. He was so caught up in a vicious rabbit hole of self-loathing that he barely registered when the light of a faint glow began bouncing off the the cold metal bars of his cage. Albus opened his eyes to see that where his tears had made contact with the tips of his fingers, there was a strange aquamarine coloured glow.
A strained breath escaped his lungs as he scrambled to pick up the dirt again. He scooped it very messily in his hands and clenched his fists. He pressed his fist to his head and prayed. Not quite sure who or what he was praying to but the frenzied voice in his head begging to be let out rung so loudly in his ears that he thought his head would split. A moment passed and the glow faded. He opened his eyes and brought his hand back down to his lap. He gingerly opened his fist to see a very haphazardly formed lock pick. It was brittle and far from perfect but it would have to do.
Albus stretched his hands around the bars and fumbled with the lock on his cage. Voices from beyond the curtains caught his attention and panic filled him. He fiddled with the lock frantically, trying to open it before anyone could walk in and catch him. He didn't even want to think of the torture he'd have to endure if he was caught trying to escape. Finally after much struggling, the lock clicked open and fell to the ground. Albus threw the cage door open and stumbled to his feet.
Having been curled in the small cage for so long, his body ached in agony, burning as though it would give up on him at any moment. Yet he forced himself to push on. He ran and ran until his weakened legs could take no more and he collapsed. He didn't know where he had ended up or how far he had run, but the way his chest heaved and his lungs burned told him that he could no longer run. The world seemed to spin viciously and as nausea overtook him, so did the undeniable call of unconsciousness. The last thing he saw before his vision went black was the rustling of the trees in the forest he had found himself in.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
The next time Albus opened his eyes, he was enveloped with warm sheets. It was a luxury that he had never experienced before and that was evident by the way he played weakly at it in confusion. He pushed the covers off of himself and noticed that bandages had been delicately wrapped around his arms and legs. His many bruises were still sore to the touch but his cuts and scraps had been treated and bandaged. He looked around the room. It wasn't big. It consisted of the lone bed he was on and a little chest in the corner. It looked like he was in a small hutt. He pushed himself up, bones quivering in protest.
Rustling from outside alerted him to the opening in the hut, from which a slender figure walked in. The first thing Albus caught was the person's piercing apricot gaze.
"Who..." His voice sounded shredded and damaged. Like a city after a harrowing storm.
The figure lifted their head, noticing that Albus was awake.
"Oh! You haven't died! Wonderful!"
"Did you..."
"Ah yes! I found you passed out on the side of the road. I was having such a good day I didn't want some dead body to ruin it so I took you back here to fix you up!"
Albus gaped at them. It definitely was not the kind of explanation he was expecting to receive. Now that he was sitting up, the figure approached him to check on his wounds.
"Does it hurt?"
"Uh...yeah..." Albus flinched away from the stranger. He hadn't known anyone to be solely nice for the sake of being nice. There had to be a catch. He just knew it.
The stranger laughed and raised his hands over the boy's body. A bright red glow began to emit from his hands and Albus' first instinct was to jump off the bed and away from the stranger. Unfortunately for him, he was in too much pain to move so quickly so he braced himself instead. However, instead of some kind of impact, he felt the heaviness in his limbs lift and the incessant aching fade away.
"Does it hurt now?" Asked the stranger with a grin.
"No...what did you do?"
"A magic trick."
Albus reached up and grabbed the stranger's hand. "You know magic! Then can you help me?"
The stranger crinkled their nose. "What? No way! I only helped you so you wouldn't ruin my good mood. Don't push it kid."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "Kid? You look even younger than me! Who are you calling a kid?"
The stranger chuckled. "Don't let appearances fool you kid. You'll get burned that way." The stranger reached behind themselves and tossed Albus a basket of apples. "You're all bones. Eat something and be on your way."
Albus opened his mouth to say something but shut it when loud chatter from outside began to grow louder. The stranger picked the basket back up.
"Uh oh...maybe eat somewhere else. Looks like we've got to run."
"What? Isn't this your hut?"
"Nope. I borrowed it from some local bandits."
"Hey boss! It looks like someone's been here while we were gone!"
Albus heard a bandit call out. The stranger wrapped a hand around Albus and threw him over their shoulder.
"No time to dwell on it. Let's bolt."
Before he knew it, this petite, lanky stranger had hoisted him over his shoulder and was sprinting out of the hut, past the bandits, basket of apples in hand and Albus himself in the other. Albus had just about enough time to question how he even got himself in such a situation before they were well on the way to Gods know where.95Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCeRTbbYRKK
