A/N: I need to stop starting new stories and finish what I have XD;

This is based around 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' in a way similar that 'Olive Branch' is based off 'The Iliad'.

Inspiration came from a poster of Paris I have hanging in my bedroom and listening to the soundtrack from the Disney version =w=

(That and I love the book, mmm.) Anyways, *fairly* short story with my own twists, enjoy! :D

Annnddd I'm making up a European town, along with its church and such. I don't want to use Paris for I know no French words XD; Prepare for randomoscity~

It was a phenomenon unheard of in the small town of Rousborough, the happening of a miracle was too far and in-between for anyone, even the elders with their countless stories, to recall. The town relied in the teachings of the church to supply them with the stories of the miracles, never to experience them for themselves. Their job was to hope that such an event could befall their small town and make the presence of their god known.

Until that is, it actually happened.

People gathered around the cobblestone street, watching as a boy of only four who laid mangled and dead from the weight of a horse and wagon suddenly re-grew his torn skin, his glazed blue eyes returning to light as he sat up, his eyes searching the crowds for his mother and father. They stood among the mass of people, staring at their son with widened eyes. He broke into a bright smile and ran towards them with his arms outstretched. They, however, did not rejoice as one would expect. They backed away from him along with the other townspeople, watching him carefully and evading his open arms.

"Momma?" he'd asked with a cocked head. His mother stared at him, shaking her head softly.

"No, Kenneth," she'd said quietly. "Stay back..." she said as his father wrapped an arm around her waist and they stared at their son. He looked between all the people, laughing to himself at their bewildered faces.

"Momma, I'm hungry," he'd pouted, crossing his arms as the town bit their lips.

"He's alive," they whispered.

"He's come from Hell itself!"

"He's an unholy demon!"

Their conversations spread around the grouping as the little four year old blonde just smiled in the midst of it all, turning his head and watching each of them with innocent curiosity as to their topic.

"She was impregnated by the devil!" A woman cried out, pointing at his mother accusingly. "She's brought the wrath of Satan on us all!"

His mother's face paled and she shook her head nauseatingly. "N-no!" she stammered.

"They both brought our town into a curse!" Another man shouted angrily. His father held his wife tighter as they were glared at by their neighbors.

"I swear, we didn't know any of this!" his mother pled. Her arm was grabbed and she was ripped away from her husband. She cried out for him and they fought against the others as they were pushed down the street in separation.

"We must cleanse our city! No means of the devil may prosper here!" A headstrong woman yelled. An agreeing chant followed as the man and woman were dragged down the streets and out of the young boy's sight.

"Momma?" he stared before starting to run after them. "Dadd-AH!" he cried out as his arm was grabbed. He looked up to see the kindly old archdeacon staring at him with sad eyes. He kneeled down beside the boy and stroked his hair. "Mr. Deacon, Father...sir," he stumbled with his greeting. "They took Momma and Daddy!" he pointed down the street.

He nodded softly, "Yes, Kenny, they did. Do you know why?"

He shook his head and the man stared at him for a bit before grabbing him in his arms and pulling him up. "Kenny, you did something really special today," he said softly, looking back for any signs of the enraged townspeople before walking up towards their large church hovering over the city.

"I did?" he asked, clinging to his robes and watching for his parents to come back for him.

The man walked up the steps of the church and cupped Kenny's chin, pushing his face up to look into his. "You experienced resurrection, Kenneth. You've got the blessings of an angel about you."

"Where did they take Momma," he demanded, his eyes welling up with tears as he ignored the man's statement. "I want her back."

The old man's face got noticeably sadder and he kissed the boy's hair comfortingly. "She's not coming back, Kenny," he whispered. The boy's face dropped and the archdeacon held him closely. They turned their heads to the sound of some of the townspeople making their way back, hollering out Kenny's name through the streets. The man turned and pushed open the door of the cathedral, pulling Kenny in with him and slamming the large door shut, the sound echoing through the barren, stone and glass halls of the building.

Kenny clung to the man as his footsteps bounded along the halls as he slowly walked through. "We have to keep you safe," he told him.

"Momma and Daddy keep me safe," he insisted, turning to jump out of his arms and run out to get to them.

"They can't anymore," he said softly, kneeling down and placing Kenny down on the floor on his knees. Kenny stared up at him and the archdeacon placed a gentle hand atop his glowing blonde hair. "They'll be going home to their father," he explained softly.

"I want to go with them," he said, his eyes shining. "I...I want to go home, too!"

The man shook his head. "You must stay on Earth with us," he stated quietly. "The world is a very dark place, Kenneth as your dear parents are learning as we speak." The boy started tearing up again and the man pet his head some more. "We need angels to be our light. But it's our job to protect them."

"I want Momma," he said, pulling away from the man and crying. "I...I don't wanna be here."

"You have to be," he whispered. "Your mother can't care for you anymore." Kenny cried harder and the gentleman grabbed him and held him as he sobbed into his clean, white robes. "There there," he said, stroking his head softly. "We'll keep you here in the church."

Kenny pulled back and sniffed, looking up at him, "M-Momma told me that...that church is for good people," he stuttered.

"It's for everyone," he explained, standing and holding out his hand. Kenny sniffled, grasping his hand back and the man smiled on him, starting to lead him through the dark building with glowing candles guiding their way. He led him to the main room, lit in an explosion of color from the sun peeking through the stained-glass window above a large wooden cross. He pointed to a few people kneeling on the pews and Kenny watched them curiously.

"They're praying," he observed.

"Yes, they are," he nodded.

"Momma made us do that every night before supper," he said, looking at the man. "But they're asking for things," he pointed at a few of them huddled in a group. Murmurings of prayers unanswered wafted around the spacious room and Kenny looked at them in annoyance. The old man looked down at him and laughed softly.

"Some have little to their names, so they pray for more in exchange for their dedication to our Lord," the man explained.

"Momma said no one should ask for anything unless they need it," Kenny stated firmly. "Daddy told me not to ask for things because it won't happen by praying. We just had to be thankful for what we had and not boss God around."

The archdeacon stared at him before chuckling, leading him away from the prayer room and towards a flight of stairs in the back corner of the cathedral. "Your parents were very wise, Kenneth," he said as he helped him clamber up the steps. "But we don't just pray to God."

"We don't?" he said in astonishment as he climbed.

"No, we pray to God, to Mary, to Jesus, our Lord and Savior. We pray to the angels as well, who often come onto Earth and guide us along through our days, even if we can't see them."

"But they're sent by God," he stated in confusion.

"Right."

"So...we're praying to God," he blinked. The man laughed again, pulling him up the top step and looking around with him at the bells about them. Kenny stared with his mouth agape up at the giant monstrous instruments hovering above him and encasing him with dark shadows. The man took a deep breath, sighing contentedly.

"Angels are of their own spirit," he said, looking down at the wonderment-infused boy. "They go on God's word, and yet can use their own methods of delivering messages to the people that they came to help. It's our job to love them and protect them in order to show God that we care for all his children. Human or otherwise."

The blonde looked at him and his face contorted in confusion before the man continued, "You can live up here, Kenneth. Would you like that?"

"It's...so big," he gaped, staring still at the low-lying beams stretching across the ceiling. The sunlight poked through the bars and shone down in rays upon the rustic-wooden flooring.

"And it's yours," the man continued.

"How come?" he asked him. "What about home?"

A moment of silence passed before the man patted his head and took a deep breath. "This is your home now," he said in the low-lights of the room. Kenny looked down at the ground with slightly furrowed brows before the old man stepped away from him. "I'll get you some pillows and a blanket for tonight. Tomorrow I'll find some toys for you," he said before turning to walk away.

"Wait!" Kenny said as he stepped onto the first step.

He turned back, "Yes, Kenneth?"

Kenny bit his lip. "How...how long do I have to stay here?"

They stared at each other for a moment before the old man smiled. "Angels come to Earth with a purpose," he stated. "When it's your turn to fulfill yours, everything will fall into light."

He smiled at him kindly once more before turning and heading down the stairs. Kenny stood in the midst of the giant bells, hearing the door shut and the lock outside slowly sliding into place. He shook where he stood before his legs gave out and he fell back onto the floor, pulling his knees into his chest and burying his face into his ragged clothes. He sniffled a few times, looking up with glassy eyes to see the rays of sunlight slowly turning the room into a deep orange hue around the instruments. He closed his eyes, laying down on the floor and curling into himself once again, listening to the sound of birds chirping outside the scaffolding of the old cathedral. Tears slowly ran down his face before he drifted off to visions of his parents fading away before his very eyes into the bright light of his own recluse.

A/N: Zee Archdeacon, he gets no identity, for I am a lazy girl. LAZY I SAY!

Anyways, yay! Next chapter fast-forwards a good deal, but now you know why Kenny's gonna be in the tower :3c

Mmmmmmmm I'm so excited about this story, you don't even know =w=

Mkays, thanks for R&Ring! :D

PS: Courtanie harbors no religious knowledge, so she's kinda bs-ing this whole thing. Sorry bout that. 9_9;