The Angel of Paris

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。Chapter 1 ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Reine sat in the rafters of Quasimodo's quarters as he spoke to a small squab that he had been nurturing.

"Good morning," he greeted with a light-hearted tone. He received a chirp in return.

"Will today be the day? Are you ready to fly?" Quasimodo questioned the small creature, but in turn he only received a dejected look.

"You sure?" The woman chorused, jumping down from her place in the heavens.

"Good day to try. Why, if I could pick a day to fly, this would be it! The festival of fools! It would be fun, the jugglers and music and dancing!" Quasi's vivid description of the festival gave the bird the motivation it needed to start frantically flapping its wings. As it began to hover in the air Quasi and Reine let out a small laugh of joy. Quasi ushered the bird forward while waving goodbye.

"Go on! Nobody wants to be cooped up here forever!" At this exclamation Reine turned her eyes to Quasi and gave him a small smile of reassurance. 

"Are you excited for the festival this year?" The pale girl asked trying to lift the man's spirits, as she jumped up on the railing of the balcony and began walking like she was an acrobat performing for the festival.

"Yes of course." Quasi sighed as he gazed longingly at the people milling below. Reine had joined Quasi every year to spectate the festival, but she had never seen him this dejected.

"What's the matter Quasimodo? You can tell me." The woman asked as she tried to read her friend. She seemed to have a distinct talent to get people to talk to her about their worries and troubles. One might say that for Quasimodo, this was due to a small crush that the hunchback held for the albino woman in front of him, which had developed as the result of years' worth of friendship. Ever since the girl's surprise visit when they were young, Quasi had taken solace in the albino being that she was the only one who would talk to him as if he were a person. Before he could reply, the sound of footsteps came echoing from the narrow stairwell that Reine had traversed up all those years ago.

"Hide quickly!" Quasimodo whispered in alarm as Reine quickly scrambled up a wooden beam and back into the rafters. Quasimodo eyes darted around like a nervous squirrel as he checked his minimal living space to ensure that there were no visible traces of his companion.

As the hatch opened the space seemed to darken as Judge Claude Frollo entered, his dark aura dampening the shining aura of the makeshift chandelier woven of dried flowers and glass which still set out a kaleidoscope of color.

"Good morning, Quasimodo." Spoke sternly to Quasi who kept his eyes cast down as he replied, "Good morning, Master." Claude Frollo was a man who never smiled, his hollowed face resembled that of an emaciated demon, a frown permanently carved of his face. He sneered down at the hunchback before speaking sternly once more.

"Lunch, boy. Lunch." Reine watched from the shadows as the Judge degraded her friend. The man now a nervous shell of his usually vibrant personality scrambled set the table with a silver plate and chalice for Frollo and a wooden cup and plate for himself. Another subtle jab from the minister himself to assert his dominance over the poor boy. "Shall we review your alphabet today?" Frollo questioned as he set a small bunch of grapes on Quasi's plate.

"Yes master. I would like that very much." The hunched figure replied as he began to eat.

"Very well, A?" Frollo asked as he began his 'teaching'.

"Abomination." Quasi whispered.

"B?"

"Blasphemy"

"C?"