To Walk Through a Dream Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven With Wavering Footsteps Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Stone Song Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three A Tale of Winter Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Destiny Inescapable Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Epilogue The Cycle's Continuing Beginnings Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Two Spirits Akin

A Tale of Winter (In balance, Imbalance) Chapter Three "Quasimodo? Quasimodo, you up here?" Phoebus called out as he ascended the belltower. "Quasimo-" He broke off suddenly as he came around the bend in the staircase and almost ran into the bellringer. While the captain of the guard recovered from being startled, Quasimodo noticed many pairs of eyes glinting in the light of the lantern from behind him in the stairwell. Immediately following Phoebus was a pack of about fifty gypsy children, most of them no more than ten years of age or so. They swarmed into the room after him when they'd reached the top of the stairs, investigating everything around them with wide eyes and eager hands. "What's going on?!?" Quasimodo demanded of Phoebus, whilst snatching one of his carved figurines away from a small, thieving hand. "I just need you to watch them a minute while I go talk to the archdeacon." "What? Why did you bring them up here?" "You're good with kids, right?" Phoebus called over his shoulder as he ducked back down the stairs. His head popped out again a moment later "Oh, and if you don't mind we need to store some money and clothes up here for awhile." "What?" He called out at the vanishing Phoebus. He felt something tugging on his tunic and looked down to see a very small child demanding his attention. "Do you have anything *else* we can play with? Tobias broke the little dolls." Prim, proper, Madame Raleau held her head up and kept her back straight as she made her way up the cathedral steps. You had to show people in this city that you were an upstanding citizen on the first impression, that was the only way to keep ruffians away. Suddenly there was a swarm of dirty, ragged children before her. Their clothes were soiled and in tatters, and most of them were barefoot. Six of them stood in a cluster looking mournful while a seventh, slightly older than the others, stepped away from the group towards her. "Please Madame, we are so hungry. Can you spare a coin or two?" The little girl looked up at her like a dog that had just been kicked by it's loving master. One of the littler children in the group sniffled slightly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Stiffly, still looking respectable and very proper, she searched her purse. One must be an upstanding citizen... "I'm gonna be in the acting troupe when I get older! I need more dirt..." Quasimodo rolled his eyes. He was helping Phoebus get the gypsy children ready for their big night. For a week now he had directed them in begging around the cathedral, putting on performances that were at times so pathetic as to become comical, as the children seemed to have a flair for the dramatic that extended beyond the bounds of what was reasonable. Phoebus had made a quick save when they'd gotten the idea to stage a stabbing. "Please Monsieur! Our brother's been hurt! If you could spare some coin..." The children finished rubbing dirt into their rags and headed downstairs, leaving their better clothes up in Quasimodo's room. Below them they could hear the service beginning... "Hear me, good citizens of Paris! In this, our city, on the very same streets we walk, live starving children! Orphans, sleeping in doorways and eating what they can find in the gutters! Neglected! Unfed and un-cared for! And on whom does the responsibility for these children fall? Their parents have died, or in some cases abandoned them! They are too young to care for themselves! And now, in the winter, they sleep in the streets, with nowhere else to go! They cannot support themselves, it is up to us! I'm not asking you to take them into your homes! I'm not asking you to take on the raising of another child when you have so many of your own, but if you could, each of you, spare just a few coins to go towards feeding and clothing these children!" Throughout this speech the children stood in a large, frightened-looking huddle in front of Phoebus while he gestured to them. For effect, he picked one of the littlest children up and held her at the end of his speech, while she gazed tearfully out at the crowd. Shove a responsibility on people, and they grow uneasy. Give them a fast and simple way to get rid of that responsibility, as well as the growing sense of guilt, and they will take the opportunity faster than gypsy children can grab bread off foodstalls. The coins fell like rain... Chapter Four