It was a simple village that lay tucked snuggly between the crests of the black-tipped hills, hiding away amidst obscuring fog that gave it a certain air of mystery and bone-chilling fear. Though those among the inhabitants of the place sat under skies that were constantly gray, travelers around the village were always treated to a beautiful sunset that sent scores of living orange-pink smears crisscrossing through the very atmosphere atop the town, which continued to lay unbeknownst to anyone who had not been born there. And those who had been rarely left the safe haven of smoke they believed to be their entire world, except on occasion for the men who gathered necessary supplies in the next valley a few times a year. They were tightknit, hardworking, and highly religious, called Free Masons due to their role as creators who could build nearly anything they pleased. With power so great, they had become widespread and scattered their empire throughout the world…at first without opposition.

However, strength and imperialism could only last so long without interruption.

The winter had been mild up to this point, but it seemed that the intense cold had arrived along with the labor of the village leader's wife, her cries of pain the only sound in the silence of the early, snow-blanketed January morning. The birth was two months premature and quite unexpected for the members belonging to this Masonic village, who had all been sleeping soundly before their leader had slammed his fist against each door looking for a doctor or midwife to help, but they had all roused willingly enough to help welcome this new little one into the world. None had expected the birth would be so difficult and long, with both mother and child struggling to keep their lives and fight away fever after a day and a half of trying to get the poor baby out. And absolutely no one had expected the child would be born with such a disturbing physical appearance.

The child, a son weighing just three pounds, peered out at his new world with irises the shade of newly shed blood and hair the shade of the new-fallen snow outside. His gasping breaths were frantic, his nearly translucent skin flushed darkly with sickness as he cried out. The entirety of those who had helped with the birth watched nervously to see their leader's reaction to his child's anomaly, watched as he cradled the sobbing infant in his arms carefully before passing him off to the village doctor with a gruff, furious noise and signing the trinity across his chest. He reached out to hold his wife's hand as she attempted to sit up, her eyes unfocused and hectic as she spoke.

"Gilbert," she insisted before falling back onto the pillow. "His name…is…Gilbert."

A few days later, she passed away, determined that her son's legacy would carry on in her place.

Gilbert was a sickly child, much to his father's dismay, and his nose was almost constantly running from some kind of virus that he had caught with his weak immune system. Each day of his life for the first six years, he toddled through the village hand in hand with a man who hated him… though he himself was too young to be aware that a dad could hold anything but love for their own child. However, the people of the town saw how their leader looked down at the boy with contempt, saw that he was displeased with the weak link that he had created and lost his wife to. The child was a living representation of the death of the woman he had loved and every dimpled smile Gilbert gave was a cut into his father's heart. Of course Gilbert, naïve and unknowing, just kept on grinning, even when his father wasn't around…which was a lot.

Today was one of those days, and Gilbert was out on his own, jumping in the puddles left from the rain of the day before as he hopped down the street alone. As usual, his nose was dripping and his thumb was in his mouth, the gray hair atop his head in total disarray. He liked stepping on his reflection and watching his face distort with ripples until he didn't even look like a person anymore, just a blob of white and red mixed together. He giggled, stepping his tiny booted foot over and over into the water in front of him. A bell from the middle of the town echoed into the desolate day; the other village children walked around him on their way to school, sneering at him like they always had, but he followed after them anyway, even though his dad had told him not to.

"Quit following us, dummy," one of the little kids, Elizaveta, yelled, picking up a pebble and throwing it at him with a laugh. "You don't get to go to school because you're so dumb!"

Gilbert flinched, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. "I'm not dumb!" he retaliated, struggling to think of something he could say to hurt the girl back and coming up blank. "I-I'm…awesome! And you're… not!"

But Elizaveta just laughed at him again. "We all know you're stupid, so I don't know why you think you aren't!"

"Because I'm not! I'm super smart! Like, the smartest person ever! You're just jealous because I have such a big, super smart brain and you have a little dumb girly brain!" Gilbert stuck his tongue out at her, satisfied with what he had accomplished.

She frowned. "I don't have a girly brain. I'm a boy…unlike you!"

Before he could laugh at her more, Gilbert's cousin Roderick walked in between them, giving Gilbert a superior, judgmental look as he took Elizaveta's hand. "What are you doing here, peasant? You know you aren't supposed to come to school with us. Come on, Elizaveta. Let's go and leave this baby to play in puddles all day."

"Yeah! Play in puddles all day, you freak!" she agreed, making a face at him before skipping away with Roderick.

Gilbert stared after them angrily before shoving his thumb back into his mouth, and letting a bit of airy laughter seep out from between his teeth. "They're the stupid ones. They smell like boogers. Big, icky butt boogers!" Mumbling to himself, he wandered into the darkness of the forest, completely ignoring the path that had been clearly marked for those who left the village. He had already decided that one day, he was going to build a huge, awesome castle in the trees and live there all alone with no one else. Then he wouldn't be made fun of anymore, he could play all the time, and he could teach himself to read books, and spend every day drawing pictures of the friends he'd created.

Now he just had to find the perfect tree to build it in.

"Hmm, this one! No, this one! I like this one because it's the tallest! That other one, it was too small, but this one is awesome! Kind of like me, only bigger and more covered in leaves!"

This was where he would hide for hours, contemplating in peace what he wanted to do with his life, what he wanted to be when he grew up. He'd already decided on an awesomely sexy knight that people would bow down before and worship….but he was also thinking about a firefighter, too. He was still debating. Sometimes he would get lost for hours in the trees and his mind, eventually finding his way out of the darkness by walking forward until he emerged again, back in the village where the mist always clung and the sky was always gray. There was no sunshine here; just abysmal monotone, lifeless shades. The brightest color around was the violent red of Gilbert's eyes.

Just like every other day, he walked until his feet met the cobblestones of his hometown. Always, the fun of the day was consumed by the dread of having to go home and eat supper with the new family his dad had created almost a year ago. He was still nervous around the blonde-haired woman that had insisted he call her 'Mom' even though she wasn't his mom, and the little brother they had created for Gilbert was stinky and never smiled. Gilbert had thought that babies smiled a lot and were funny, but all Ludwig did was sleep. He never even cried, the weirdo. The only thing Gilbert knew for sure was that Ludwig was the child that his dad had wanted all along, not some sick, weak, Albino son that was good for nothing. He'd heard his dad say so to Ludwig himself when he cradled him in his arms before bed.

Giving his thumb a small bite, Gil opened the door with his other hand and went inside, pushing his way through the dogs that surrounded him with lolling tongues and wagging tails. He giggled when they licked his face as he sat down in the entrance way to pull off his rain boots, hugging onto their fluffy necks before moving to put away his coat, too. His step-mother hated when things weren't clean and had spanked him when he'd refused to hang up his jacket at first. Shuddering at the thought, he sniffled up the snot dripping down his nose and sneaked past his dad's room, hurrying to climb into his bed. Of course they knew he had been out adventuring, but he liked to pretend that they actually missed him during the day.

A split second later, his father threw the door open with the order, "Gilbert. Come to supper," before disappearing back into the hallway.

Clutching his blanket between his fingers and a dinosaur toy in the other, he made his way to the table, giving Ludwig and his stepmom an egotistical smile as he sat down. "I have a dinosaur," he told them proudly, making the stegosaurus crawl across his plate. "Raaaaawr!"

"What did I tell you about bringing toys to the table?" his dad growled, setting the chicken platter down. "Go put it back. And wash your hands and face while you're at it. They're filthy."

"I want to play…" Gilbert mumbled defiantly, picking at the loose plastic on the toy's leg and not meeting his father's angry eyes.

"Right now it is time to eat. We do not play at the dinner table. Now put the toy back so that we can pray, Gilbert." His patience was slipping, that much was obvious by the vein starting to bulge in his head.

Jutting his bottom lip out, Gilbert shoved away from the table and put his stegosaurus back, stopping on the way back to wipe his mud-encrusted hands all over his dad's bathrobe spitefully. Satisfied, he went back to the table and took his parents' hands with the sweetest smile he could manage. His stepmom said grace, all the time glaring at the wiggly six year old that just couldn't seem to sit still long enough to listen to a minute-long prayer. Even Ludwig was still as his mother reached the "amen", and started dishing out the food. Slowly and meticulously, they started eating their meals with the perfection of the wealthy; Gilbert however immediately started shoveling the food into his mouth like a starving orphan, not taking time to be neat and prissy like them.

"Gilbert," his dad chided through his teeth. "Do you want to be punished? Eat normally, please."

"But I am!" he protested, licking the potatoes off of his nose. "Like a normal wild animal. I'm going to live in the forest and play with all the other animals and-"

The dad's large hand slammed down onto the table, Gilbert flinching back in his chair fearfully. "I've had enough of your nonsense. You are not to play in the streets or the forest for a week, and I will be adding a few things onto your chores. Honestly, I don't understand why you can't seem to comprehend the simplest of commands…Speaking of which, someone informed me that you tried to follow the other children to school again. Is this true?"

He shook his head. "I wasn't following…the smelly girly one-I mean, the Elizaveta one- threw a stone at my awesomeness!"

His dad blinked. "Excuse me? Your…awesomeness?" Recovering, he sighed. "Regardless, you know the other children will bully you, so stop playing right in the street where they go, alright? Play somewhere less…visible. After you are done being grounded, of course. You'll be spending the next few days in the house or at the stream doing some laundry."

So for the next week, Gilbert was stuck inside with nothing to do except clean the house and get yelled at. His only time of freedom was when a tiny basket of his clothes was thrust into his hands and he had to waddle his way to the stream to wash them. Then, he could daydream as he stared at the forest, dream about being an animal and travelling wherever he wanted to. Being stuck here was no fun. One day, he vowed, he would escape this place where everyone thought he was a stupid weirdo baby and never, ever, for never ever come back here to this stupid misty village again. He would make real friends, and see sunshine for the first time in his life. Clutching the basket closer as he sat down on the bank of the water, he stared into his reflection again.

He was different. But what was wrong with being different? Difference was awesome. Nobody was the same, so why was he the only one who got pebbles thrown at him, or called names, or shoved down into the mud? He sniffed up his snot once again, frowning, and started throwing his clothes into the water, watching with fascination as the current took them up and carried them away. Impatiently, he waited for the clothes to come back, sticking his feet in and staring down where they had gone. After a few minutes, he jumped into the water altogether, not really caring that he was now soaked to the bone in frigid river. If he didn't get his clothes back, his dad would yell at him again. He was going to be in huge trouble. That scary thought driving him forward, he splashed his way downstream.

"Clothes! Clothes? Where are you?" he yelled, trying to pick up rocks and look under them. "It's okay…I'm not going to hurt you. I promise I won't spank you if you come back right now. And I'll give you yummy candies and hug you! Don't be scared. Don't be scared. Don't be-"

A rush of water surged around Gilbert, knocking him off his feet and dragging him a few feet away into the deeper water. Struggling to the surface, he gasped for air before being yanked under again, the icy water invading his lungs as he tried to scream for help. His cries were silent in the blackness, the only thing he could see the bubbles rising all around him in the monotone slate of his village. Flailing his arms about, he groped his hands to grab onto something or pull himself up somehow, but there was nothing but water, water, water…he couldn't think, couldn't breathe anymore. Dizziness and exhaustion overcame him as he continued to feebly fight against the swirling eddies that tossed his body like a ragdoll, and he eventually stilled as he grew warmer, too tired to try anymore. Just as he gave up and succumbed, something took hold of his shirt from the back, hauling him forcefully upward.

The moment he surfaced, he spewed water everywhere, coughing and crying as he lay down in what felt like soft grass. He sucked the sweet air desperately, keeping his eyes closed and shivering wildly, too afraid to open them and see his savior. He wanted to go home for the first time in his life, where he was safe even if he wasn't wanted. Would his dad be sad that he'd almost drowned…. Or happy? The thought made him cry even harder, made him cough louder, made it harder to breathe. He would probably just be sad that he had lived. After all, he already had a better son. He didn't need Gilbert anymore. A cold unlike any other seeped into his skin, gooseflesh springing up across his arms and causing his body to spasm with uncontrollable trembling.

"Is he breathing?" a woman asked, temporarily distracting Gilbert from his pain.

"Uh-huh," said a small, quiet voice, right beside Gil. "He's breathing, but he's sick."

A warm hand stroked back Gilbert's messy hair, the skin soft and comforting. "Poor baby must have fallen into the river trying to do his laundry. He's so incredibly pale…" Gilbert stirred at her comment. "Can you hear me, child? If you can, please open your eyes and reassure me that you weren't severely injured."

Tentatively, he opened one of his lids and immediately shut it again as a bright, unfamiliar light assaulted his unsuspecting face. His hands went to his injury and he made a noise of discomfort, rubbing at the strange feeling that was spreading through his eyeballs. "Owie…I can't see," he complained to the woman. "It hurts my eyes…"

She laughed, taking his tiny hands in hers and bringing them away from his face. "Well, he's definitely okay. Thank goodness! What's your name, little Mason?"

Slowly and carefully, Gilbert peeled his eyelid back, the assaulting light still stabbing at him sharply as he fought to regain his vision. "I am the awesome Gilbert! Bow down before me!" Sucking in a breath, he opened both eyes and blinked repeatedly, looking around in confusion. Where was he? A field, for sure, but what were these…these colors? He'd never seen so many different shades of red and there were even blues and yellows and greens and oranges. These flowers were unfamiliar, not the old, dead vines that clung to windows and walls, growing without a known source across the dull bricks of the buildings. They sprung up everywhere in the evergreen grasses, blowing in a wind that seemed to have a hint of music to it. Even the sky here….it was baby blue, with puffy white clouds billowing in it! And that bright light had been the sun Gilbert had sworn he would see, shining down upon everything and giving it life.

Mystified, he gaped at his surroundings for a moment before turning to the people beside him. One was clearly the grown woman who had saved him, with long strawberry-blonde hair entwined into intricate braids across her shoulders. Her eyes were a bluish-purple color and she was looking at him with a sweet smile that he had never encountered before. Kneeling beside him, she pushed the skirts of her billowing, violet dress away and held out her hand. Suspicious, he stared at it and turned to the other person, who was hiding quietly behind the woman. He looked a lot like she did, except he was Gilbert's age, his eyes were purely blue, and he wasn't smiling at all. He looked scared instead, or maybe he was suspicious of Gilbert as Gil was of him. Their eyes locked, the two young boys stuck in a strange stare-off, until the woman gave a small laugh.

"Gilbert, you say? Well, I'm Emily, and this is my son, Matthew. Say hello!"

Gilbert puffed himself up, ready for the boy to insult him. After all, that's what all the other kids did. Why would it be any different this time? Instead, Matthew gave a shy wave, his cheeks growing pink. Gilbert gazed back uncertainly. What…? Why wasn't he picking on him? Couldn't he see the weird gray hair and blood red eyes like everybody else could? Didn't he want to kick dirt at him or throw rocks? Apparently he didn't, or maybe he didn't care about the way Gil looked; the cloaked boy just smiled back at him, all cute and dimply, with absolutely no animosity. He relaxed his stance, confused but relieved. This was a good person! He flashed Matthew a return grin, nearly going beside himself with joy when the other boy came out from behind his mom.

"I like you," Gilbert announced, placing a hand on Matthew's face. "Be my friend!"

Matthew looked back uncertainly to his mom. She gave a quick nod, motioning at him to go ahead, so he put his hand on Gilbert's face, too. "Okay," he agreed. "Friends."

Gilbert looked at Matthew's mom, dropping his hand from his new playmate's face. "Thank you for saving me," he muttered sheepishly, kicking the grass at his feet.

"Of course, sweetheart," she said, scooping up the basket of his clothes into her arms. "Now, we should probably get you home to your Mommy and Daddy, shouldn't we, Gilbert? I presume you're from the Mason village just up the river?"

He gave a hesitant nod, not so sure he wanted to go back after experiencing this splash of color and these warm feelings. "Yeah…but I want to stay here instead."

Emily frowned. "Why's that? Your parents are probably frantic right now! I'll walk you as far as I'm permitted to go and you will be home where you belong."

Gilbert took a step away, stubbornly determined not to wind up where he had started. "Daddy doesn't care and Mommy's in Heaven. She's always with me, so she's here too! Mommy is an angel. She tells me what to do and she says…she says stay here!"

The strange, beautiful woman gave a soft smile. "Oh? I'd love to welcome you, as I'm sure Mattie would, but I must return you to your village. You won't be safe here. If I were to take a Mason, even a baby one, home with me, we might be punished. Do you understand, sweetie? Have you learned about the rivalry in school?"

"I don't go to school. Daddy won't let me," he admitted. "The other kids hit me and call me names. Step- Mommy says it's 'cause I have freaky eyes!" To accent his point, he grabbed his eyelids and pulled them up. "And weird hair! And I'm smaller than them! But it's okay. I like to play all day!"

She smiled again at his innocence, putting the weight of the clothing on one hip and taking Gilbert's grimy hand with the other. "Well, I don't see anything wrong with you, Gilbert. I think you're a very stunning young man. Don't you agree, Mattie? Isn't Gilbert wonderful?"

Matthew flushed, hiding behind his mother's dress and giving a timid nod.

"That's right," Emily laughed. "Never forget that! Now, let's hurry. We need to get you back to where you belong. The sun only stays up for so long, after all. We wouldn't want to be caught in the woods when night falls. There are scarier things than Masons and Druids out there."

With that chilling thought on all their minds, they hurried into the trees, Matthew and Emily singing a cheerful song that seemed to light the way through the shadows. Gilbert clutched the warm hand that held his tightly, not at all understanding why Emily was in such a hurry to get rid of him. Finally, he had been able to see the sun that was make-believe in his village. He had seen beautiful colors, all of the rainbow that had never once entered his dreams. Where before he dreamed in monochrome, now he was sure he would see the green of the grasses, the flowers, and the impossibly deep blue of eyes shining in sunlight. Why was he letting her take that away from him?

He kicked stones into the river as they walked along its edge, occasionally staring down into his reflection like he had always liked to do. Emily had called him stunning. And Mattie had agreed. Grinning ear to ear, he looked back over to his new friends, who were still singing like it was as natural as breathing. They were prettier than the people in his village, just like the field that they had been sitting in. Their smiles and happiness made him feel safe, much safer than when he was with his mean family at home. Content, he started skipping, only to be stopped when the trees disappeared and Emily released his hand. Looking around himself in confusion, Gilbert found that the colors were gone; he was once again in the darkness.