To FluffyCanaries:
I have to say that I´ve never heard of that name and none of the wikis I use, nor the character book features his last name. Therefore I chose an usual italian name for him.
Thank you anyway.

To all readers:
Sorry it took me so long but I´m writing this fanfic in my mothertongue and am translating it for and I have to say that it´s really hard for me. Therefore I´m sorry for mistakes. It´s more fluent in my language were I´m already at chapter eight, but I´ll try to translate more often.
Have fun reading.

Years 1866 to 1868 [10/12]

Three years had passed since Giotto was sent to the country, until there was another chance. It had been a hot summer day as he went down to the sea with Adriano, in the intent to talkt a walk around the coves. Giotto rarely went to the sea and even though it hold a great fascination. Since he couldn´t swim he never went in deeper than up to his knees. Probably Adriano wouldn´t have let him anyway. He had heard about those far away countries on the other side of the sea from his grandfather and he knew that behind these large sea there was a country called france. His grandfather hated france and even though his grandfather wasn´t pleased about it, he wanted to visit it some day. Watching this country with his own eyes. His grandfather thought that all frenchmen were useless, but Giotto thought that there were people like that in every nation. Since he himself was rarely accepted by other people, he wanted to accept everyone like they were, without having prejudices. To him only the persons character mattered.

Giotto was on his way down to the beach and was lost inside his daydreams as he discovered something, that let him skip a heartbeat. Down there in between the rocks on the beach was lieing something or rather someone. It was obviously a human and as Giotto came closer he recognized that it was a boy who was rarely older than he himself. Maybe two or three years. His wet red hair covered most of his face and as Giotto kneeled down next to him and gently shook him, he didn´t react. Was he dead? No, his chest seemed to move slightly, an unmistakeable sign that he was still alive. Without hesitation he run back to the path.
„Adriano! Please come, there is a boy at the beach and he´s hurt!" he cried out with panic in his voice, leading his companion through the rocks and to the boy.
He watch in pain, as Adriano started to examine the boy and impatiently bit his lip. He couldn´t wait to hear an opinion more expert than his own. The young man didn´t even turn around to him and carefully turned the boy around.
„His injuries are heavy." he explained with a calm voice and his hands scanned the stranger. He tried to value how heavy they really were. „We could bring him back to the mansion, but I can´t promise that he will recover."
Giotto nodded immediately.
„We take him back."
With a short nod Adriano took on the liveless body and carried him all way back to the small carriage in the intention of bringing the boys back to the mansion as soon as possible.

They just arrived at the mansion and Adriano had carried to boy over the doorsill as Giorgie and Angelika showed up in fron of them. Both wondering about their young masters early return. While Adriano brought the foreign boy upstairs to bring him into one of the guest room and Angelika walked over to the kitchen to get some fresh water, ointments and compresses, Giotto was hold back from the families maid.
„I am sorry Giotto, but you won´t be able to help them. If you want to I´ll make some tea for you during the wait. I´m sure Angelika will tell you immediately if something happens."
For a moment Giotto watched the stairs, a painful expression on his face. He wanted to be with the boy, help him to recover, question him about his origin and who he was. Maybe this boy was from one of these foreign countries he sometimes dreamed about. Giotto could help him to get back to his family and maybe they could be friends.
„They will do their best ..." Giorgia promised him and patted his head.
With a low sigh Giotto nodded. Currently he couldn´t help the boy and probably it would be selfish to insist on staying with him. Adriano and Angelika were used to treat injuries and illnesses since the next doctor was living too far away and they usually treated to sick and injured in their house. Giotto was sure that he wouldn´t be helpful but more likely stand in their way. He resigned and followed the young maid to the salon and let her bring some tea.
Once he had emptied his cup of tea and there still were no news, he decided to go to the small chapel and prayed for the life and health of the boy.

On the evening Giotto was told that the boy would survive. He had swallowed a lot of water and got plenty injuries, but since he survived until now, the chances were good that he would recover. The only one unimpressed by this news was Giottos grandfather, but since he didn´t want to disappoint his grandson and he couldn´t throw out a injured boy, he allowed him to stay. But he made clear that Giotto was the one to take full responsibility for him. They even allowed him to enter the strangers room from now on to look after his patient. At the start Giottos hopes had been high that the boy would wake up as soon as he was able to visit him, but he soon realized that this wouldn´t suffice at all. Most times he sat on a small chair next to the bed and watched the redhead. It took almost a week for him to open his eyes for the first time.

As Giotto entered the room to look after his patient, he noticed that the boy was already sitting on his bed. At first he looked outside the window, but as he noticed him, he looked over and watching him warily.
"Where am I?" he asked then. His voice was rather harsh and his tone was blunt, but Giotto was sure that it was because of his injuries and that his throat was rough because he hadn´t been able to speak during the last week. With fascination Giotto realized that the strangers eyes, that at first seemed to be in an unusual brown were actually dark red. At the moment the boy was repellant, but Giotto was sure that this would change soon. Nevertheless he hesitated. It had been quite some time since he had talked to someone in his age and it was hard to find the right words.
"My name is Giotto." He finally said and tried to be as polite and friendly as possible and smiled at him. "This mansion belongs to my grandfather. But may I ask for you name?"
The redhead hesitated for a moment and stroke over his temple as if he had to think about that for a moment.
"I … don´t know." he mumbled finally and stared at the sandy colored wall on the other side of the room. His thoughts were racing.
Giotto on the other hand was surprised.
"I … don´t know anything." The boy said and his glance went back to Giotto, who looked at him worried. His grandfather had told him about an acquaintance that once got a wood truss against his head and lost his memory in return. Maybe something similar had happened to this boy. Giotto thought about it for a moment and remembered that his grandfather had called it amnesia.
"Are you sure that you can´t remember anything?" he asked lowly. He still hoped that his patient would remember something. The boy seemed concentrated and thoughtful, but then he fumbled for something underneath his dress shirt and pulled out a small chain. The chain seemed to be out of iron and a small tag was attached to it. Something was graved onto it.
"G." The boy mumbled lowly.
Giotto slightly tilted his head and gave him a questioning look.
"Please?"
"I think that´s what I am called … G." The redhead repeated more confident and closed his hands around the pendant. He glanced back to Giotto, but received an irritated look. Then he nodded
"You don´t know where you are from, do you G?"
The redheaded boy shook his head, but he didn´t say anything.
"Would you like to stay here for now?" Giottos voice was tentative.
For a moment G was silent and thougtfully looked into the blue eyes of his host. He seemed to think about it.
„Here?" he then asked suspicious. Even though he didn´t seem to be too sure about that, but he didn´t have a better alternative.
"Yes. We have enough space here and I would like you to stay. I don´t think it would be a problem and if you wanted I´d talk to my grandfather."
G was silent and for a moment Giotto scared that he would leave. But then G nodded slightly.
„If you regain your memory or you don´t feel well, then you can leave at any time." Giotto suggested and hoped that it would be alright for his new companion.
"You know you are strange, don´t you" G grumbled as a reply and tried to relax again. Obviously their talk had been more exhausting than he had thought.
"Yes. I know that." Giotto replied with an unbelievable soft smile.

Within the following weeks Gs constitution grew better with every day and the two boys got closer. G motivated Giotto to go to the small town with him every now and then, even though Giotto had avoided the contact because of his bad experience with other people. G probably disliked staying at the mansion every day, because unlike Giotto he seemed like a person that liked some action. And this was not the only thing they weren´t similar at. Giotto was calm, while G was full of spirits. While Giotto was sitting in the library to read, G tried to persuade him to go on some adventures nearby. It wasn´t rare or Giotto to return covered in mud and dirt, with bruises at his hands and knees. Once he tried to climb up onto a wall and broke his arm. His grandfather was barely pleased and told him to be calm down. But at least there was one thing, the two of them shared. Gs red hair, his eyes and his hot temper were nearly as disliked as Giottos intuition and his weird nature.

So they were sitting under one of those large trees in the garden and watched the pictures they could imagine in the clouds. By now Giotto was twelve years old and once they got friends he started to tell G more about himself and his secrets. About his unusual intuition and the strange things that were going on with him lately. A few weeks ago he suddenly started to burn without any reason. At first Giotto was sure that he accidently touched a candle, but it had been at daytime and the candles weren´t even lit. Something similar had happened some days ago and even though nobody was harmed, he worried about it a lot.

"Did you ever wonder why you´re blessed with this skill?" G asked curiously.
Giotto wasn´t that pleased since he avoided to speak about it. He watched the sky thoughtfully.
"You think there´s a reason?"
"Well. It´s not normal. Even you´re grandfather says that he had never even heard of it and he´s been to so many places. Maybe you could train your abilities and then you could use it." G grinned. He seemed to be totally into it, while Giotto returned his look insecure.
Giotto didn´t like the idea of training his abilities. It was weird once he started to burn. There was this prickle in his fingers and the flames only lasted for a moment.
"Hey. What´s up?" asked the redhead and gave Giotto a punch onto the shoulder. "Are you scared?"
Actually he was. He had even started to avoid touching other people because he feared they would burn as well.
"That´s not it." Giotto mumbled.
„Well. Then let us try!"
Within seconds G was on his feet and pulled him up as well. Giotto gave a low sigh as he gave in and tried to follow Gs instructions. The result was disappointing. Whatever Giotto did nothing had happened. But G didn´t give in and so they started tot rain every day for weeks.

It took quite some time until something happened.
Similar to the days before they were standing under the big tree in the garden and Giotto tried to get his hands to burn with nothing more than his mind. Suddenly flames started to burn and within seconds his whole body was covered in flames. Giotto fell onto his knees with a tortured noise. He covered his face with his burning hands and screamed in pain.
G was unable to realize what had happened for some seconds, his eyes onto his tortured friend. It was his fault, he thought. He had forced Giotto to use his ability. If something would happend to Giotto, then …

He shook his head. There had to be something he could to. Suddenly his glance met the small pond only a few metres away. He saw back to Giotto. Then he took a deep breath and put his arms around his best friend. He barely realized the pain as the flames burned his skin, while he pulled Giotto closer and walked over to the pond. Once he reached it, he jumped in it.
The water evaporated immediately and for a moment G feared that it would be useless. But then the flames went out and Giotto was hanging in his arms without consciousness. G pulled him up quickly and tried to get the body back onto the earth as soon as possible. In panic he shook the lifeless body, but nothing happened. He had to do something. Now. How should he live if Giotto died because of his stubbornness? With his remaining strength he lifted the body up and returned to the house as fast as he could. He was stumbled and his body was shaking and once he walked over the doorsill, he collapsed. But even now he still pulled Giotto close as if it would help him. He wanted to scream for help, but he couldn´t. He couldn´t even get up anymore. There was nothing left than sitting here, while he started to cry, waiting for anyone to find them. It was Giorgia, the young maid. She came from the kitchen with a tablet and was on her way to the salon as she saw the two boys. With a high-pitched cry she dropped the tablet and run over to them. Alarmed by the noise Giottos grandfather, Adriano and Antonio came to the entrance hall immediately. It took some time for them to convince G to let go of Giottos body, but once they successed, the boys were brought to their rooms. Giorgia was sent to get the doctor, whilte the other people tried to do the best for now. The boys condition was horrible.
G got severe burns on his arms, his body and his face and the doctor couldn´t do more than ease his pain. Then he put on some ointment to the burns. He was sure that some scars would remain but G didn´t seem to mind at all. He just nodded.
Giotto on the other hand wasn´t hurt on his body. It seemed to be more of an injury of his mind and soul. Even the doctor couldn´t explain it. But days went by and Giotto kept unconscious. Now and then his eyelids seemed to flatter, as if he wanted to make sure that he was still alive.
During this time G refused to talk. He didn´t answer any question about the accident and remained on Giottos side day and night. At first he even refused to eat or drink, but Adriano convinced him that Giotto wouldn´t be pleased if he died now. But he still refused to speak or sleep or leave Giottos side.

It took a whole week until Giotto moved, but G noticed immediately.
"G-Giotto?" He asked with a hoarse voice and took his friends small hand.
It were his first words since the accident had happened and his voice got a strange tone. His watched his friend with worry and guilt, as said friend slowly opened his eyes. G could feel the pain in his heart and for a moment he was too shocked to talk. The warm blue of his friends' eyes had changed into an unnatural orange. They seemed to be made out of the fire that had burned him.
Gs stomach was tied up in knots but he forced himself to not look away. It wasn´t just the intensity of the new color that had shocked him, but the new expression in his eyes. They didn´t seem human anymore. Giottos eyes had been full of love and gentleness, blue as the sky on a summer day. The new eyes were full of a foreign power, as if they were made of pure flames, but they showed no emotion.
"G?" Giotto asked with a weak voice. His eyes were searching for the others face.
"I´m here." G replied and touched his shoulder for more comfort. „Are you thirsty?"
„Is … this my fault?"
Giotto still watched his friends face. The skin was uneven and it was easy to see that the fire had burnt it. Tears appeared in the orange eyes.
"It´s not your fault, Giotto."
It was hard for G to see how Giotto searched the fault in his own behavior. Everything that happened had been Gs fault after all and while he carefully brushed over Giottos hair, while said boy cried, he vowed to himself that he would be there for his friend. At every time and every place. He would be his friend and his guardian. Never ever Giotto should be dragged into something that tragic.