The night is loud with crashes of thunder it seems as though the heavens are fighting within it. Lightning the only thing that illuminates the large manor estate for the wind has blown out all the candles screams pierce the air as the woman pushes trying to bring the life inside of her to the world. With one last heave and a yell the baby is born into the arms of a nursemaid the woman is crying but the baby is not. When the nursemaid hands her the baby she is astonished she cradles him to her chest tenderly the baby is beautiful in an almost unnatural way because since when do babies not wail when they are thrust from the womb into a chaotic unfamiliar world but Madame Enjolras doesn't care to her the baby is perfect with piercing blue eyes and a golden tuft of curls on his head.
Her husband Monsieur Enjolras rushes into the room wanting to see his firstborn and heir but when he takes one look into the baby's eyes he is aghast. The baby is all wrong to him he should be crying not looking through him to his very sol and he knows without a doubt this baby will be more trouble to him then value when his wife holds out the baby to him looking for his approval their marriage was an arranged one and she wanted to be a dutiful wife and earn his love but even this new child could not please him he denied her and turned away from her and the child leaving the room without a sound. The world outside is loud but inside the Enjolras household everything is silent. The new mother whispers as to not break the spell her newborn sons name "Avent" for though he was born in troubled times both in this nation as a whole and this family she knew he was strong she could see it.
They find him the best doctors money has to offer but none of them could get young Avent to speak. All sorts of therapies and nothing works. His father is frustrated with him and barely gives him a second glance. He is 5 and has not uttered a sound. It's not that he doesn't want to but he can't the words get lodged in his throat and no sound will come out. He never cries and is an all around good child. His mother showers him with love but he even at such a young age can tell she is getting weary with him and is wondering why he won't speak. He longs to speak, to make them proud, to express his feelings but alas he cannot and even he is disappointed with himself. He is ashamed of himself and works hard to learn the hand gestures the doctors have taken to teaching because they know there is no cure for little Avent for he is surely mute and soon everyone but him has given up all hope of him talking ever.
He is eleven when he runs away into the dark cold night. His papa was yelling at him again telling him that he is and always will be a failure. But this time was different this time his father had struck him hard against his face sending him to the floor. The source of his father's rage today was finding out that his wife was barren and that he would only ever have a mute disappointment as his heir.
Avent didn't know this and couldn't understand why his papa was angry all the time with him he was really trying to learn to speak and was the top of his class that was for other mute children. But no, nothing was enough and tonight his father finally went over the edge and backhanded him sharply against the face after dinner.
Avent had quickly got up and ran out of the house his mother yelling for him to come back but he was too mad to turn around. It was raining out side and the drop masked his tears of shame and pain. His cheek stung smartly and throbbed in a steady rhythm. He turned corners running as fast as his little legs could carry him but soon he could run no longer and stopped to breathe panting, leaning against a cold wet wall of shop. He sunk quietly against the wall and brought his knees up to his chest hugging them tightly and buried his face in his legs. He sat there sobbing until late in the night it was now very late and Avent was beginning to regret his rash decision because now he was scared, cold and alone which served to make the usually stoic little boy cry harder into his knees.
Suddenly he saw a white flash under his eyelids and he lifted his damp head squinting at the light. Before him stood what only could be described as an angel. He was the most beautiful being Avent had ever seen ethereal and glowing, more beautiful than even his gorgeous mama. The angel knelt before him and wiped away his tears gently, with his touch the throbbing of his cheek went away.
"I am the angel Raphael and I have been watching you. You have a good, strong heart but no way to express it. The Almighty has sent me to bless you with a voice, to heal you."
Avent couldn't believe what he was hearing of all people the Lord above chose to heal his ailment. Avent was very compassionate and didn't believe that he deserved to be healed more than any other. The angel smiled and the puzzled look on Avent's face.
"There is a condition however you must use this gift to help others troubled times are coming and you will play a large part in them," The angel told him.
Avent nodded, a pensive look that didn't belong on a face so young. He could do that he thought. The angel smiled again and touched his throat palm glowing. Avent felt his throat tickle like he had a cough.
"There." Raphael said to him. Avent cleared his throat suddenly nervous and self-conscious lowering his gaze. "Go on." The angel said with a chuckle brushing a lock of golden hair from the young boys face and gently lifting his head to meet his gaze.
Avent cleared his throat and opened his mouth. "T… Thank y… you." His voice was rough and grated against his throat but he didn't care because he could speak! He laughed elated and repeated but by then the angel had disappeared. He will keep his promise t he will make sure of it he thought determined. This gift won't be given in vain.
When he arrives home curls and clothes soggy but with a grin on his face he greets his parents with a happy hello, mother and father. His mother cannot contain her joy and gathers him into her arms even his father gives him a small smile.
Doctors call him a miracle and he doesn't deny it but doesn't tell them how he came to speak. Not even his mother and father know his secret. Years pass and he grows into a handsome intelligent young man with a voice full of hope and ideas. He sees the way the poor are treated and finally knows how to use his gift given to him long ago he will make a difference he knows it as he arrives in Paris.
It is after a debate that he realizes he can no longer speak. Some nasty comments were exchanged though he tried to keep his words tame like usual. He is devastated and knows his gift has been taken away as punishment for the rash and insulting lines he uttered. All the following week his voice is gone and he hides in his apartment with the excuse that he is unwell, when finally the angel Raphael visits him.
"Your passion and enthusiasm have taken hold of your head and you have been punished for desecrating the gift the Lord has given to you." Enjolras bows his head in shame remembering the promise he had made when he got this gift "But since the Lord is gracious He has decided to give you a second chance for you still have much to do with it."
Enjolras lifts his head surprised but grateful that his voice is being returned to him. He remembers his promise and vows never to break it again but now he knows how to help the people of Paris with his words yes but with words their needs to be action he's learnt that from all the times he was silent like the people of Paris and he has been inspired. The angel smiles knowingly, a young revolutionary has just been born.
The air is full of smoke and the echo of bullets still ring in the air the streets run with the blood of those gone to soon from this world. He is dead and the world is silent, mourning the young life that has come full circle. He was born silently but he lived loud and passionate and now that he is dead the world is silent again.