Another re-upload.

Based off of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Warnings: minor character death, violence, child abuse, persecution, written about a year ago. I need to update this...

Thank you Bailieboro for the beta!

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Death clung in the air, at home with its surroundings; its cold, bony fingers growing closer and closer. She could hear nothing but her own heartbeat; the world had gone cold and silent hours ago. Her feet were bleeding and screaming in pain as her bloody footprints betrayed her trail in the pure white snow, her lungs threatening to burst. She had to keep going. She must. She had no choice.

Closer

She would hear her companions, her friends scream behind her before going eternally silent. She was sure they were dead, an arrow or sword ending their life. She had no time to weep for them, no time to look back to see lifeless faces, a final time.

"No!" she whispered, holding the bundle closer to her heart.

She had to keep going. Even if she didn't make it, she had to make sure he did.

He was all that mattered...

Tears were filling her eyes but she held them back, forcing her legs to continue their never-ending run. She could not spare the energy to cry. She needed to keep going, to save her son.

'If they got their hands on him...' she thought briefly, hearing the hoof beats come closer.

Closer

' If he got his hands on him,…'

Tears were threatening. Gasping for air, she finally saw her brother's Cathedral, bidding it to come closer. She convinced herself that he would be safe with Gaius. She could quickly escape within its walls, and... if not herself, at least hide her son there.

The figure of death following closely behind, would never know. Her brother would keep her precious son safe... her son, her entire world...even if it meant that she had to leave to observe him from the heavens.

The horses moved closer, faster.

And then a sharp, intense pain exploded in her skull, and her world went forever black. The bundle fell from her arms, landing safely on the cold, soft snow below.

The man halted his horse, near the bleeding druid. The dark figure with a despicable, triumphant smile, dismounted and loomed over the dead woman, turning the corpse with his boot, inspecting the body to make sure death had succeeded in its conquest. Satisfied, he sheathed his weapon of justice, the bloodied sword by which he had torn every one of those vile creatures, asunder. They were not human; the air they took into their lungs was stolen. He knew they were demons in sheep's clothing. They were hollow, soulless, godless creatures. No human would worship the devil so religiously, using his dark arts to shred lives apart. No...

"Sire!"

The man turned to his knight behind him, eyeing the bundle of clothing which he held in his arms. The druids were nothing but common thieves. He sneered as he informed his knight, "Most likely stolen, give it to your wife when you return home." Then, walked back to towards his horse, however, stopping dead in his tracks when the clothing began to wail...

He strutted towards the knight, opening the bundle of clothing, to reveal the monster hidden within.

A baby

"Probably hers, Sire!" The knight said, holding the infant with more caution, as he nodded toward the corpse. "What should I do with…it?"

The man snatched the wailing body out of the knight's arms inspecting the evil spawn thoroughly, eyes stern in distaste. Then, they steadily became softer the more the infant cried, its naked body cold and scarred. Its clever disguise, eventually stirring something within the man's stone heart. It looks so…

Human

'Maybe…' the powerful man thought, 'Maybe, the disease isn't inherited as we thought. Maybe this life could be saved from the eternal flames of hellfire.' The words left the man's lips as if in a hopeful revelation, "Maybe there's a cure to this evil after all," he said.

Then the infant's eyes grew wide... slowly changing from blue to gold...

Sorcery

His face red with rage, he hastily threw the baby into the knight's arms once again.

"Kill it!" he ordered, turning his eyes away. He knew that he couldn't watch the small body rendered lifeless, the infant's neck being snapped under his orders. The child looked too human. Too pure. Too much like his own son. With that, he realized he was already enchanted; he was already under the monster's spell.

He heard his knight's rough hands grab the back of the wailing infant's head, ready to shatter its life...its light...

Then a booming, panicking voice could be heard piercing the air.

"Stop!"

Both heads snapped towards the newcomer, an elderly priest hastening down the magnificent cathedral steps. As his weak knees finally give way, he collapsed into the blood red snow, staring at the corpse of the druid woman before him. He embraced the lifeless shell, pain and anger consuming his features. "What have you done…" he wailed. "What's have you done, Uther?"

The powerful man was taken aback, eyes watching the display of emotions of sympathy and clearly rage. "I have done what needs to be done!" He replied, not believing what his close friend was saying.

Treason

With his gloved hand, the King snatched the pathetic infant with glowing eyes, by its small legs, ignoring its screaming. "This is the Lord's work, and I will purge evil from this world here and now..."

"...This is not the Lord's doing, Sire!" The priest interrupted, stern eyes bearing deep into his friend's soul. He dared not speak the words with company present, but he had no need of them. The ruler's conscience spoke what he could not.

It's his...

The grieving clergy cast his eyes to the heavens, as if searching for someone above who would hold greater guidance than his own, in this time of need. Then his lips carefully spoke the words, his voice rattled with emotion. "This woman, I knew her. She held no magic of her own."

He had spilled innocent, untainted blood upon the Lord's house.

Uther stood there slightly aghast, beginning to protest until the older man's hand silenced him. His eyes told him of his conviction...of his crime, his unforgivable crime. He was a murderer, sinning in the eyes of the heavens. His soul was destined to the same fiery pit as the child withering in his hand.

"No!" His voice was a whisper, for only the two friends to hear. "What must I do?" he pleaded to the skies, their silence leaving his nerves on end. He cannot end like that. He won't!

"Raise the child as your own, Sire," the priest began to say, cradling the dead woman in his arms, his lips kissing her forehead, before lifting the body up and making his way towards the large oak doors. "...that is the price for redemption."Then he disappeared into the cathedral, exiting the world, in which the king didn't want anymore to be present.

His stoic features, mind deep in thought, gazed at the child still crying in his hands.

A monster. He's going to have to raise a monster...a powerful demon.

Then, a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, a sudden realization of the priceless gift so generously thrown into his hands.

A demon who wielded the dark craft, possessing powers which could tear entire kingdoms asunder. A child that would, with the proper discipline, shred his kindred into pieces...upon a single word, his single order, the order of the King.

A weapon.

Mind content, he wraps the infant in his cloak, finding sudden concern for its well being. He signals his knight to also mount. He does the same; careful not to damage his new possession. He will raise the child within the confines of the castle, far away from any pure soul. It will become his secret weapon against the evils of this world.

With that, they take leave of the Cathedral. Its bloody steps slowly fading into memory as falling snow covers the sins of the powerful man.

Perhaps, the Lord works in mysterious ways after all...