THE PASSING OF TIME
~ By Lanabana
~ Of course I don't own ALIAS, if I DID there definitely wouldn't have been a re-run on last Sunday night!
~ SPOILER WARNING: This fanfic was inspired by a spoiler, its brief one but I have turned it into a theory, just want to warn you!
~ I'm not sure how many chapters I will end up with but my theory takes place in three different sections. PAST, PRESENT, and FUTURE. And although I have done some research for this story, I am no expert on the region or several topics, so it is truly FICTION! I'm going to take it nice and slow so as not to confuse you OR myself! Here it goes---
~PAST~
1444 AD.
The sun split the sky into a million colors, as it rose over the hills surrounding the village of Parma, Italy. The air was cool and calm, like the village below that was just beginning to show signs of life.
And high on the hill, set apart from the things of this world, stood a humble monastery. The chants of the worshippers within could be heard for miles around, as their celestial song echoed throughout the entire valley.
Nothing seemed to set this particular day apart from any other normal, boring day. The sellers sold, the buyers bought, the teacher's taught and so on and so on.
But then without warning, a desperate cry filled the air and the world seemed to stop.
Silence.
All turned their heads upwards, up the hill to the monastery, where the simple cry turned to screams and the hollow sound of someone beating on wood, then silence.
After an appropriate amount of curiosity, the villagers went back to their normal routine, unwilling to admit that it WASN'T a normal day; that perhaps this day would change every normal day to come.
So time passed on, as did the villagers in their chosen ignorance, praying that what wasn't discussed would somehow just not be.
But what would be came anyway, and it came in the form of a baby that was soon orphaned after his mother died giving him life on the front steps of the monastery. Her only gift to her newborn babe was life and a name, Milo Rambaldi.
After a time, everyone was quite relieved to see that the community's new addition seemed as normal as could be. In fact, the harmless baby boy captured the hearts of all who saw him, with his piercing green eyes and cute little dimpled chin.
His flawlessness was his only flaw. He never cried, or smiled, he just was. He possessed an unearthly calmness, that while many praised outwardly they also questioned inwardly, never forgetting the strange sensation that seized them upon his abnormal arrival.
So, while everyone seemed to adore him, none would adopt him, for that didn't seem normal at all.
By default, he was raised by the Vespertine monks, the same souls that brought him into this world. Not being used to the lifecycles of childhood, the monks didn't seem too concerned with Mill's lack of liveliness. And perhaps his state would have gone unnoticed until his dying day had it not changed so drastically, so suddenly, and so unexpectantly.
For some unknown reason, to anyone who cared to know, and who wouldn't for the change was so obviously unnormal, on April 7th, 1447, Milo Rambaldi seemed to have a rebirth.
It was a difference like night and day. From the very second he woke up he seemed to be a completely different child.
It started with a smile, and then he proceeded to say his first word. By the end of the day he had said his first sentence, as well as properly identified every primary color along with their children. He had verbally labeled several everyday objects, such as ball, musicbox, and clock.
It was all so out of the ordinary that his every activity was written down. None could explain it, but all of the sudden they seemed to have genius on their hands. And their belief was proven in the years to come, when young Milo quickly passed all normal children his age in every subject.
He was an amazing artist, and many hired him to draw their portraits. He an especially gifted craftsman, always tinkering about, making gadgets and inventions. But his specialty was clocks, breaking them, fixing them, making them, he was obsessed with time, and it's passing.
None could explain, although many tried. They can't be blamed really, how were they to know that the catalyst for Milo's change was a world away from their own little world. They were scarcely aware that there was such a place.
Who would have guessed that he would come alive the very moment of her birth? They would never have guessed, never have even thought to ask the question. It was all too strange, so they just learned to accept it and call it a blessing.
And so time passed on.
TBC
~ By Lanabana
~ Of course I don't own ALIAS, if I DID there definitely wouldn't have been a re-run on last Sunday night!
~ SPOILER WARNING: This fanfic was inspired by a spoiler, its brief one but I have turned it into a theory, just want to warn you!
~ I'm not sure how many chapters I will end up with but my theory takes place in three different sections. PAST, PRESENT, and FUTURE. And although I have done some research for this story, I am no expert on the region or several topics, so it is truly FICTION! I'm going to take it nice and slow so as not to confuse you OR myself! Here it goes---
~PAST~
1444 AD.
The sun split the sky into a million colors, as it rose over the hills surrounding the village of Parma, Italy. The air was cool and calm, like the village below that was just beginning to show signs of life.
And high on the hill, set apart from the things of this world, stood a humble monastery. The chants of the worshippers within could be heard for miles around, as their celestial song echoed throughout the entire valley.
Nothing seemed to set this particular day apart from any other normal, boring day. The sellers sold, the buyers bought, the teacher's taught and so on and so on.
But then without warning, a desperate cry filled the air and the world seemed to stop.
Silence.
All turned their heads upwards, up the hill to the monastery, where the simple cry turned to screams and the hollow sound of someone beating on wood, then silence.
After an appropriate amount of curiosity, the villagers went back to their normal routine, unwilling to admit that it WASN'T a normal day; that perhaps this day would change every normal day to come.
So time passed on, as did the villagers in their chosen ignorance, praying that what wasn't discussed would somehow just not be.
But what would be came anyway, and it came in the form of a baby that was soon orphaned after his mother died giving him life on the front steps of the monastery. Her only gift to her newborn babe was life and a name, Milo Rambaldi.
After a time, everyone was quite relieved to see that the community's new addition seemed as normal as could be. In fact, the harmless baby boy captured the hearts of all who saw him, with his piercing green eyes and cute little dimpled chin.
His flawlessness was his only flaw. He never cried, or smiled, he just was. He possessed an unearthly calmness, that while many praised outwardly they also questioned inwardly, never forgetting the strange sensation that seized them upon his abnormal arrival.
So, while everyone seemed to adore him, none would adopt him, for that didn't seem normal at all.
By default, he was raised by the Vespertine monks, the same souls that brought him into this world. Not being used to the lifecycles of childhood, the monks didn't seem too concerned with Mill's lack of liveliness. And perhaps his state would have gone unnoticed until his dying day had it not changed so drastically, so suddenly, and so unexpectantly.
For some unknown reason, to anyone who cared to know, and who wouldn't for the change was so obviously unnormal, on April 7th, 1447, Milo Rambaldi seemed to have a rebirth.
It was a difference like night and day. From the very second he woke up he seemed to be a completely different child.
It started with a smile, and then he proceeded to say his first word. By the end of the day he had said his first sentence, as well as properly identified every primary color along with their children. He had verbally labeled several everyday objects, such as ball, musicbox, and clock.
It was all so out of the ordinary that his every activity was written down. None could explain it, but all of the sudden they seemed to have genius on their hands. And their belief was proven in the years to come, when young Milo quickly passed all normal children his age in every subject.
He was an amazing artist, and many hired him to draw their portraits. He an especially gifted craftsman, always tinkering about, making gadgets and inventions. But his specialty was clocks, breaking them, fixing them, making them, he was obsessed with time, and it's passing.
None could explain, although many tried. They can't be blamed really, how were they to know that the catalyst for Milo's change was a world away from their own little world. They were scarcely aware that there was such a place.
Who would have guessed that he would come alive the very moment of her birth? They would never have guessed, never have even thought to ask the question. It was all too strange, so they just learned to accept it and call it a blessing.
And so time passed on.
TBC