Me: Hehe, Chapter 2 is done.
Azryl: Are we doing the festival?
Me: Not quite yet. This one ends just before the festival begins. Also, Frollo's still a douche.
Rendan: Obviously.
Zero: Doesn't take a genius to figure that out.
Azryl: I'll get the disclaimer. Azard doesn't own The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Disney has the exclusive rights to that. All he owns are the changes he's made and me.
Me: Thank you Azryl. Read and enjoy!
Chapter 2: Day of the Festival
The night eventually came and all activity at Notre Dame ceased. After the night mass, the most annoying one because it often kept people awake due to the ringing bells, Azryl sat on one of the stone figures on top of the tower and watched the moon.
"You okay, Azy?" Laverne's voice came from behind him. Azryl turned to see Hugo, Victor and Laverne eyeing him curiously.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded. "Why would you think something was wrong?"
"You've been quiet since dinner," Victor said.
"It's nothing to worry about," Azryl assured them. "I'm trying to plan out tomorrow."
"You're taking a big risk kid," Hugo said. "It's bigger than the cathedral itself."
"Perhaps," Azryl mused, "but the look on Frollo's face will be priceless."
"Do you think you'll be able to pull this off?" Laverne asked. "I mean, if Frollo decides to turn on you and you can't get back here in time..."
"He'll kill me most likely. Or rather, try to. He doesn't have the skill or the stamina to kill me as long as I can fight back. If all goes according to plan, all that'll happen is I'll be exposed to the outside world as I am."
"I hope you're going to have some fun first," Hugo deadpanned. If there was one thing he hated, it's when he or his friends didn't have any fun.
"Without a doubt," Azryl replied while laughing. "I'm going to have some fun before the festival even starts."
"What are you going to do?" Laverne questioned.
"I figure I'll run around and cause some trouble for the guards. Messing with them is always a good source of fun."
"Better get some rest then," Victor suggested. "You have a long day tomorrow."
"Indeed I do," Azryl replied. He said nothing more before walking off to his room and falling asleep. He woke up several hours later just as the sun rose before getting dressed and waiting. Knowing Frollo, he'd show up around lunch time before the festival started, as he did every year, with lunch. Around midday Frollo showed up, as expected, and met up with his ward for lunch. He met up with Azryl who was watching the preparations take place at the base of the cathedral.
"Just what do you find so fascinating about those people?" Frollo asked. "I fail to see just how these gypsies fascinate you so."
"You wouldn't understand," Azryl replied.
"I brought lunch," Frollo stated as he placed a basket on the small table. Azryl grabbed two cups and plates and placed them on the table. The lunch was simple enough, bread with some grapes and a little wine. When it came to Azryl, simple was the best. "Tell me, Azryl, what are you planning for today?"
"Nothing really special. Going to watch the festival. It looks like it's a lot of fun."
"Poor boy. Even up in the tower their evil magic can affect you."
"Affect me? Evil magic?" Azryl questioned. "Do you even hear yourself talk sometimes?"
"You doubt the gypsies are evil?" Frollo responded with a question.
"Well, I haven't exactly seen them do anything wrong," Azryl explained. "They're just trying to scrape out a living by dancing or fortune telling. I don't see what's so wrong with it."
"It's witchcraft my boy," Frollo said. "Magic used by the very creatures that have escaped from the fiery pits of Hell."
"Well, what if I told you I could use some of that magic?" Azryl asked. Frollo's eyes shot open.
"I'd have to kill you to preserve your immortal soul," Frollo seriously stated. "You don't know any of that magic, do you?" There was malice in his tone.
"No," Azryl replied. "I was just wondering."
"For your sake I hope you were," Frollo stated. "Well, I must be off."
"Is there any chance you'd take me to see the festival this year?" Azryl asked. He knew it was pointless, but at least wanted to bug Frollo a little more.
"Why would you want to go down there? Though I am sad to say this–"
'Bullshit,' Azryl thought.
"–you are ugly and that's a crime that is rarely forgiven in the world out there."
"Are you sure? I've seen some ugly people before and people accept them just like they would their own."
"You would honestly risk having the people know who you are?" Frollo questioned incredulously. 'How long has he had these thoughts?'
"Yes, I would. Besides, even if one or two idiots did take up arms against me, I could handle them." Frollo sighed heavily and put a small smile on his face. 'He's going to lie so badly.'
"I am proud that you are brave enough to take such a risk."
'Bullshit again.'
"However, I am not willing to risk your safety out there."
'Absolute bullshit. He knows that by denying me I'll most likely go by myself and get into some sort of trouble. Then he can just sit back and let someone kill me, saying it was some kind of lesson I had to be taught. Asshole.'
"I want you to stay inside and remain safe from their cruelty," Frollo finished. He turned and walked away, giving a slightly sinister smirk as he did. Azryl noticed.
"And so his plan falls into semi-fruition."
"Are you sure you want to go through with this Azy?" Laverne asked. Azryl rushed over to the balcony and looked down, waiting for Frollo's silhouette to leave the cathedral. "Frollo knows you will probably disobey him."
"I know," Azryl replied. "I accounted for that too. Don't worry, he won't get the drop on me." Victor hopped over and handed Azryl a black cloak.
"Best of luck to you then," Victor said.
"Yeah kid," Hugo chimed in. "Go have some fun."
"Just stay safe, Azy," Laverne finished. Azryl nodded and donned the cloak, covering his face with the hood. The second Frollo's silhouette left the cathedral, he started on his way down. Within a moment, Azryl rushed through the doors and vanished in the crowd.
Elsewhere, a young man walked into the city with his white steed. He was about twenty in age and wore a blue cape that covered the gold armor underneath. He had shoulder length blond hair, blue eyes and a gold goatee. He was looking at a map and appeared hopelessly lost. Moments passed before he got frustrated.
"Maybe I was supposed to head this way... no. A shame isn't it, Achilles? You leave for a few decades and they change everything," he groaned in frustration. A few guards passed him by without a second glance despite him trying to question them. He walked a little further and found a young gypsy girl of about eighteen years dancing with a small goat nearby. She was a beauty. She had dark tanned skin, a slender figure, long black hair that reached her mid-back and luscious green eyes. He couldn't help but marvel at her beauty as he dropped a few gold coins into a small hat that collected money. Suddenly the music stopped and she found herself cornered by two guards.
"All right gypsy," the tall guard began. "Where did you get the money?"
"For your information, I earned it," she replied.
"Gypsies don't earn money," he said.
"Probably stole it!" The fat one stated. Suddenly the two guards found their heads underneath someone's arms. They didn't get a good look at him as he rushed them over to a wall, ran up it, flipped behind them and, landing on their backs, force kicked them into the wall. The figure flipped to his feet and looked back at the gypsy girl before winking and turning back to the two, now prone, guards.
"Such rudeness," he said in a sultry tone before walking over to the girl. "Are you alright miss–?"
"Esmeralda," she filled in, trace amounts of blush adorning her face.
"Ah, Esmeralda. Probably named to reflect your beautiful eyes that look so much like emeralds." He stepped back after kissing the back of her hand, allowing her to take in his appearance while attempting to hide the blush that appeared. He was a young man, about eighteen in age at the most. He had long silver hair that reached his lower back and exotic golden eyes. He had a muscular frame, most likely indicating that whatever he did to those guards he did regularly. His face had smooth features, masculine yet gentle in appearance. Pardon the pun, but he appeared to have been carved by angels.
"Damn you, Silv!" One of the prone guards shouted. The boy, Silv, turned to them and smirked. He reached behind his back and handed a bag of gold to Esmeralda.
"For you, as an apology for their atrocious behavior," Silv said.
"You're a gypsy?" She asked, noticing he wore commoners garb. He wore a long sleeved beige shirt and beige pants with black shoes. The cloak he wore was darkly colored, most likely a dark blue though it was difficult to tell.
"Alas, I am no gypsy. Life chose not to give me such a fascinating life. I am but a humble thief. Speaking of–" He whipped out two separate bags of gold, both of which the guards recognized. "Thanks for the gold, guys! I think this'll cover my expenses for the next few days!"
"Why you little–!" Both guards shouted before finding themselves slamming into a passing white horse. One fell behind the horse while the other fell backwards. Esmeralda took this opportunity to make herself scarce.
"Achilles, sit!" The blond ordered. The horse sat down, pinning the taller of the guards to the floor. "Oh I'm so sorry. He's impossible, really, I can't take him anywhere." The nearby civilians started laughing.
"I'll teach you to interfere, peasant!" The fat one shouted as he pulled out a dagger. The blond man responded by pulling out a longsword.
"You were saying, Lieutenant?" He questioned.
"OH! Captain!" The fat guard shouted. He attempted to salute only to hit himself in the face trying. "At your service, sir!"
"Stand down then," the captain ordered. He was soon confronted by an extra weight on his shoulders. The silver haired boy had leapt to his shoulders and was looking at the weapon in the captain's hands.
"Nice sword," he simply said.
"Yes," the captain replied carefully. "It is."
"Mind if I see it?" Silv asked.
"Don't do it, Captain! Silv is the greatest thief in the city! You hand that blade to him and you'll never see it again!"
"Easy, Lieutenant!" The captain ordered before looking up at the boy on his shoulders. "Not without knowing who you are."
"Oh right! Where are my manners?" The boy somersaulted off the captain's shoulders and landed upright behind him before extending his hand. "I'm Silv."
"Phoebus," the captain replied as he shook Silv's hand. "Silv is a unique name."
"Well, the people started calling me 'Silver Sword' a few years ago, so I just go by Silv."
"Why would they call you that?"
"I beat about ten guards in combat at once using only a sword."
"Impressive," Phoebus stated. "Well, here you go." Phoebus tossed his sword to Silv, who caught it without issue. He examined it from several different angles before taking a few practice swings with it.
"It's not really that impressive," Silv admitted keeping a flowing motion during his swings. "The guards are about as skilled as a toddler. But with a coward like Frollo leading them I'm not surprised."
"Judge Claude Frollo? A coward?"
"Yep. He sends the guards to do his dirty work and kills innocent people just because he thinks they do witchcraft. He's completely insane. No honor with him either. Hell, I don't think he knows the meaning of the word. Talk about the wrong guy for the job. He hates the people, especially gypsies."
"Captain," the chubby guard whispered, "Silv is a legend amongst the people. Anyone who captures him will instantly become famous. Try to catch him."
"I'll decide what to do, thanks," Phoebus said. Silv reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple before tossing it up into the air and slashing at it before catching it fully whole in his left hand. He walked over to the captain and held the apple up to him.
"Take the top," Silv offered.
"You didn't even cut it," Phoebus stated.
"Just take it," Silv ordered. Phoebus put his hand on the top of the apple only to have Silv remove the bottom, revealing the apple had been perfectly cut in two. Silv took a few bites out of the apple while Phoebus stared.
"Unbelievable."
"It takes practice," Silv handed the sword back to the captain, "but with enough you can do amazing things."
"Indeed." Phoebus suddenly got an idea. Thieves were most often people who indulged in whatever excitement they could find. "How about a bet?" Silv turned to the captain with an interested smile on his face.
"What kind of bet?" Silv asked.
"A game of sorts. You run off and hide while I have until the festival starts to find you."
"That's three hours. What do you get if you win?"
"I take you into custody, and if you win I'll give you my sword." The two guards looked at the captain with no small amount of shock.
"Sorry but that isn't fair," Silv said. "You'll never find me for one, and for two, I couldn't take a man's sword from him. If you tell me who made it for you I may reconsider. Also, our gypsy friend from before is safe from your guards for the duration of the bet."
"Done." Phoebus took a few bites of the apple before discarding it.
"Then you have yourself a bet," Silv agreed. "When do we start?"
"I'll give you ten seconds to run then the hunt begins," Phoebus explained.
"Alright, start counting down." Phoebus obliged. Once Phoebus hit one, Silv disappeared in a puff of smoke and vanished entirely, leaving Phoebus staring in disbelief.
"Now then, boys, where is the Palace of Justice?" The two guards led the captain to the tower where he was to meet Judge Frollo. When Phoebus walked in the sound of whip-cracks and screams filled the air. He walked through the door to see Frollo talking to the torturer.
"Ease up, wait between lashes or else the old pain will dull into the new," Frollo stated.
"Yes sir," the torturer said. He walked back inside and proceeded with the whipping. Frollo turned to face the young captain. "Ah, so this is the gallant Captain Phoebus home from the wars."
"Reporting for duty, as ordered, sir," Phoebus responded at attention.
"Your service record precedes you, Phoebus. I expect nothing but the best from a war hero of your caliber."
"And you shall have it sir. I guarantee it."
"Yes. You know, my last captain of the guard was... um, a bit of a disappointment." A loud crack of the whip followed by a scream sounded soon after. "Well, no matter. I'm sure you'll... whip my men into shape."
"T-thank you. It's a grea- tre- tremendous honor, sir." The two walked to an area where they could accurately see the activities of the people.
"You've come to Paris in her darkest hour, captain," Frollo said. "It will take a firm hand to save the weak-minded from being so easily misled."
"Misled, sir?" Phoebus questioned.
"Look Captain, gypsies." Phoebus looked down to see the gypsy girl from before dancing once again. "The gypsies live outside the normal order. Their heathen ways enflame the people's lowest instincts and they must. be. stopped."
"I was summoned from the wars to capture fortune-tellers and palm-readers?" Phoebus asked incredulously.
"The real war, captain, is what you see before you," Frollo informed the captain. "For eighteen years I have been... taking care of the gypsies. One. By. One. And yet, for all my success, they have thrived." He removed a piece of the railing revealing many ants. "I believe they have a safe haven within the walls of this very city, a nest if you will. They call it," he chuckled, "the 'Court of Miracles'."
"What are we going to do about it, sir?" Phoebus asked. Frollo said nothing, but slammed the block reverse side into the crevice he'd created, killing the ants that lived there. 'Silv was right, he is insane.' "You make your point quite vividly, sir."
"You know, I like you, Captain. Shall we?" A loud cheer erupted from the square. "Ugh, duty calls. Have you ever been to a peasant festival, Captain?"
"Not recently, sir," Phoebus responded. 'I'm starting to see why Silv dislikes him.'
"Then this will be a learning experience for you. We still have about two or so hours before the festival starts, so meet me back here so we can travel there." Phoebus nodded and rushed off. He had a bet to win. Two hours of searching later, Phoebus returned to the Palace of Justice in defeat. At least he wouldn't lose his sword, but it was still humiliating. He resolved to find the boy no matter what. Win or lose, he'd honor the bet.
Me: That'll do it.
Azryl: Damn, Silv made Phoebus look like a joke with that bet.
Me: Yep.
Zero: I'm sorry, Silv? Who the hell is he?
Azryl: Just a thief... and apparently a bit of a flirt.
Rendan: He certainly seems to have that air about him. He also has charisma, something Frollo really doesn't have. At least not with the people.
Me: That's the point. Silv will play a few roles in the future but what those are... you'll have to wait to see.
Azryl: Dammit. Gotta admit though, it was funny when he knocked out two guards at once.
Zero: Played em like saps.
Rendan: And the kick wasn't bad either.
Me: Okay okay, I think that's enough for today. Be good and be safe!