From day one, you could tell he was different.
In a small society full of angels, he was the only one to not visit Church every day; the only one who wouldn't join in when his classmates sung gospel hymns; and, he was definitely the only one who didn't always pray.
The other angels couldn't shun him for that wouldn't be fair.
His parents tried to keep him under strict rules, but the boy didn't stay put for more than ten minutes.
His name was Arkadios or Arc for short. He had very small wings sprouting out from his back, a white tunic that looked quite like the ones that are found in Ancient Greece, golden sandals and bright red hair. He was a pale angel. His skin was almost the colour of gray, though, not white.
He had a sister whom wore the same design of tunic he wore (just like everybody else in the area).
Her name was Hestia and her hair was darker than her brother's, her wings bigger, and her skin a healthy shade of peach.
You wouldn't guess they were siblings by the way they behaved.
Hestia was worthy of being an angel. She read various Holy Books and prayed every night before going to sleep (at seven in the afternoon). She also memorized and obeyed every rule God created.
Arc, on the other hand, would make a fuss at least twice a day and be rude to everyone he met.
Arc had no friends but, he had no enemies either. People didn't know how to deal with him so they tried to pay him no mind.
Arc and Hestia lived together in a mansion with their two loving parents, Silvia and Oscar, whom spent most of their time at church, leaving the two kids home by themselves. Hestia cleaned the place everyday even though the place was so spotless, there was nothing left dirty to actually clean.
Every time the young girl went on with her self-assigned chores, Arc would stare at her as if she was stupid, dedicated, or both.
Likewise, Hestia would stare at him as if he was either lazy, an asshole, or both.
Well, one day, Arc was walking home by himself from school. His wings were too small to fly with so he kept them underneath his tunic and out of view. He stared at the neatly cut grass, the beautifully made pavement and the symmetrical decorations on each side of the road. A tourist would think of this place as Heaven just because of the village's beauty. Arc thought of it as his personal Hell.
Everyone was too nice, too soft, too good. Everyone shared the same thoughts, close to the same attitude and especially the same white, plain clothing.
When Arc reflected on this, he realized his life was quite boring and repetitive.
So, today he thought he'd change that. You know, walk down a different path once in a while; that being literally. So, instead of carrying on down straight across the street, he ran to the left and kept on running until he couldn't recognise where he was anymore. Thinking that he remembered how to get back, he carried on going but, more slowly this time. His legs started to hurt after the sudden exercise but for the sake of exploring, he bared with it all.
Since the area he lived in was just a small village, he soon came to a greener and fresher area. The air smelt so good and everything was so open and pretty. Arc laid down then rested his head on the ground. He wondered if anyone even cared he was gone, even if it was just for a little while.
"I better get up before I sleep" he thought. The ground was surprisingly comfortable, but now wasn't the time to visit the realm of dreams.
He convinced himself to get up after (what seemed to be) twenty minutes. Then, epiphany struck him dead in the face. He had no idea where he lived anymore. Arc was walking around the town as if it was a maze and even if he went back, he wouldn't know which way to go. Heck if he was going to ask anyone for directions. So, he decided, since he came this far, he'd carry on going around for a while. It was a perfect day to be outside anyway.
