One Hundred Broken Mirrors| Camilo Angst | Encanto

The First Step

Voices roared as the velvet rose curtains were drawn up to reveal a young boy in a white, buttoned up top, with gold laces hemmed on the bottom, as well as gold laces sewed neatly around the wrists of his sleeves. His curly, auburn brown hair bounced in rhythm with his feet, slowly making his way towards a large wooden staircase. Applause echoed through the large house, known as the Casita, while the young boy continued making his way towards the stairs. Somehow, no one seemed to pay mind to the terrified expression glued onto his face. His other many relatives had faith in him, so certain for him to receive his gift, while he had doubts, what if his gift proved him to be useless? His other relatives had gifts proving they were special, that they meant much more than everyone else, Luisa's strength, Isabella's perfect roses, how could his gift prove him just as important?
Thoughts aside, he continued his way up the stairs, boards creaking underneath him, he looked up and saw a woman in a gold and yellow dress, curly, ginger hair, pulled into a messy plait, her eyes locked into a distant gaze towards a candle, her expression turning more hateful the more she looked at its burning light. The boy shook the thought off, and continued walking up the stairs. He reached the top and stood in front of a wooden door, outlined in gold sparkles. The boys' eyes squinted from the high level of brightness it gave. He turned around and saw an elderly woman bending down slightly, holding a light candle, patterned in a delicate sort of way. The woman gestured the candle towards him. He reached his hand out to feel the surface. It felt neither hot nor cold, just......hollow. The boy felt confused, while the woman just smiled. To the blind eye, it would've looked like a comforting smile, a smile that said 'good luck'.
But, to the boy, it said something much different than good luck.
It didn't say good luck at all.
He blinked twice and regained his focus, getting a clear view of the elder in front of him. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, hanging loosely around the back, her light, red dress flowed as she moved, and golden patterns were embroidered around the collar.
She smiled at the boy once more.
"Are you ready?" She said in her soft voice.
The boy paused for another moment. He had waited five years to finally get his gift, his own gift, but he still wasn't quite sure if he was ready, after all, the point of a gift was so you could help the family. So far, all gifts had been proven helpful, but there was bound to be a time when someone would ruin it all, someone who would make the town lose faith in the Madrigal family they so strongly worshipped, someone who would upset the balance of the miracle, someone who would one day walk through that door to find, not pride, not satisfaction, but disappointment and dishonour. The boy nervously nodded, and faced the tall door in front of him, standing ominously, as if it was daring him to risk the safety of his home. The boy took a deep breath and stepped closer, he longer felt the need to squint from the bright glow around the frame. Everyone in the audience held their breath. The closer the boy got, the brighter the light seemed to get, as well as getting larger around the edges, suffocating the door it seemed. He stepped closer, and reached for the doorknob. He could see his warm, auburn skin in the reflection, and his white clothes, like a canvas waiting to be painted,but his face only paled when he saw it. He turned back to the elderly woman behind him.
"Make our family proud, Camilo," She nodded, and Camilo nodded back.
"Yes, Abuela," He gulped.
Camilo turned back to the glowing door, took a deep breath as the rest of the people in the crowd did, turned the brass doorknob-

And a rush of light exploded through him.