The village of Winzeldorf is set in the heart of Bavarian Alps, and the snow-tipped giants surround it from all sides, making it both; extremely picturesque, and equally isolated. The only road leading in and out of this valley is curving its way through the lowest points between two of the mountains and leads further West, through and out of Schwarzwald - The Black Forest. This is a road quite a few locals take on a daily basis, committing to a nearly two-hour drive for the sake of working in the city of Munich, either for the sake of better income or just looking for job opportunities that Winzeldorf did not offer.
Most locals, however, chose to stay in their little ecosystem; many worked in the steep fields, growing crops or caring for farm animals, others had their little businesses sprinkled around the village. Within this community you could find anything, from locally baked bread, through seamstress to a low-end mechanic. For that reason there were more than a few people who never left the valley, and many more who left it only on special occasions.
A fifteen year old boy peeked out the corner and down the descending cobblestone road, admiring the charming, traditional look the village retained due to those seclusive ways in which it operated. Progress of the modernizing world kept passing this area by, for better or for worse. But his eagerness to see the other end of the spectrum - the big cities he saw in the movies - didn't take away from his appreciation for observing this more traditional, but very bright environment. It seemed so endearing to be able to join the people going about their days, in and out of little, colorful window shops in the main square.
But of course, he couldn't join the hustle. He did, however, dare to overlook it from the roofs a few times in the past. This time he didn't feel so courageous.
Somebody's footsteps were becoming louder down the street, and slowly a long shadow emerged in the moonlight, moving in his direction. Without a sound, the boy stepped back, far enough for the deeper shadows of the alley to fully consume him. Without a single move other than his fast beating heart, he waited. The shadow came into his view on the pavement.
The boy held his breath and shut his eyes. He listened, but the man didn't slow down to peer in his direction. He only opened his eyes when he was sure the stranger moved past the alley. He let out the air slowly and let his tensed shoulders losen.
Barely three or four hours ago, he was sitting at the windowsill in his house, wishing out loud that he could go for a walk.
"[Oh, honey...]" said his mother with the usual regret. "[You know it's not safe...]"
"[I know]" he told her softly, but later that same evening he found himself zipping up his hoodie and climbing out the window of his bedroom. The fear of being exposed was pushed aside by something more powerful. The hunger of being alive outside of those walls.
'I'll stay away from people this time' he vowed to himself. 'It'll be alright'.
But even nestled in the night he was beating himself up for taking the risk by coming into the populated area. He didn't want to give his mother any more reasons to worry about him. And with that in mind, he took the route back out of the village, moving quietly through the roofs where he was far safer than down on the ground, in the ordinary world.
Ten minutes later two golden, softly glowing orbs moved through the forest, and it was almost all you could see move through the darkness that welled beneath moonlit trees. The cautious eyes did not belong to another animal living in the Schwarzwald, although sometimes the boy questioned whether this isn't where he'd fit in, rather than the walls of his family home. At least he wouldn't have to hide from his neighbours; a wolf or an owl were far less judgemental than humans.
His mind dwelled a lot on that judgement lately; sometimes he'd look at his three fingered, blue palm and try to understand where the aggression towards him comes from. He knew what he reminded them of - he read the Bible as well. He saw many depictions of the devil and his spawns, and he found more than enough correlation between that and what he saw in the mirror to understand their fear. Yet what he went through this year went beyond what he could understand. The raw violence of those months stood alone to anything he experienced before.
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X-Men: Revolution
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