THE BOY WHO BECAME AN ANGEL

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They took the boy into a giant fortress. It stood proud and haunting over the cliff as the rest of the city sprawled underneath in a mass of colorful houses of blue, green and yellow. The streets were a maze of turns and angles, of dead ends and high walls. But the raised voices of the merchants and people startled the boy who had never seen so many people gathered in one place. He saw the Music Hall, the newly raised building sheathed in golden marble and pearly statues, taller than the rest of the structures the city.

The Storytellers gave the boy a room; it was big with a bed made for jumping (which the boy did often), and a study filled with music sheets and all kinds of puzzles. In the mornings he was educated in the fine art of music and its instruments and until the last rays of the sun, the boy created puzzles, made designs of buildings and machines until he fell asleep.

Despite the tiredness and the bone deep fear he nursed towards the Storytellers, who always observed his lessons with the teachers, the boy was happy. He ate enough, grew taller and became the master of his talent.

One year passed.

And the night that marked the anniversary of his arrival at the Castle of the Storytellers, they came for him in the night.

Then the boy discovered true fear.

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