Time frame: Guardians' childhood. Boys already gathered at the Haven Sanctuary: Luhan, Joonmyun, Minseok, wufan, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Jongin and Sehun

Ever since he was small Tao knew he was different.

Some people might say that he was special. But Tao knew that ‘special’ was just another glorified word to describe what he actually was.

Different.

He knew he was different because his mother and father never hug him and kiss him the way he’d seen other children being treated by their parents.

He knew he was different because other boys his age were always playing with each other and didn’t spend their time working around the house like him.

He knew he was different because the way other villagers would look at him in sympathy and whispers behind their hands whenever his parents told him to go to the market to sell off their meager belonging for more alcohol.

He knew he was different when the old, stern grandmother who had a stall at the edge of the village’s market, the one who other children feared, would shook her head in pity as she looked at the black eye and bluish purple grazing Tao’s cheek and gave him some sweets, even when he said he doesn’t have any money.

But he mostly knew just how different he was because of what he could do.

It started without him realizing what had happened until it was already happening. He was on his way home from the market, holding the precious bottles of wine on his small grip. His stomach rumbled painfully and he tried to walk faster, hoping that his mother would give him a piece of bread when he reached home.

Suddenly he slipped on a piece of rock and with horrified eyes he watched as his precious cargo left the safety of his arms, sailing through the air. In that split second before the bottles crashed to the ground he can already picture in his mind clearly what will happen.

The bottles would be broken and his parents would yell and hit him for being so careless, then after they were done with their punches he would be send to bed without any meals.

Tao’s little body hunched over in agony over the prospective incident, his eyes already pooling with tears and his small hands reached out uselessly into the air, unable to catch the bottles.

“NO!”

Then suddenly the bottles stopped its descent to hang in midair.

Tao’s eyes widened at the sight. He blinked once, twice, but the sight in front of him was still the same. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out both hands to grab the bottles and it quickly fell into his palms, heavy and real.

Afterwards he quickly went home, hardly paying any attention when his father berated him for being late and snatched the wines from him or when his mother threw him a piece of old, stale bread for his dinner.

Instead Tao huddled on his small cot and spent the night scrutinizing his hands.

After that day he tried to do the same thing again. Sometimes he succeed, freezing a butterfly that flew above his head for a few seconds, but most of the time he couldn’t do it, leaving himself exhausted and panting.

He didn’t know what it was that he could do, didn’t understand his ability, but he never told anyone about it. Because he knew that what he could do set him apart, made him even more different than everyone else, more than he already was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It all changed when his seventh birthday came. Tao woke up at the crack of dawn and began to tidy the small house. When her mother came stumbling out from her room she ignored him as usual and instead reached for the bottle on the table. Tipping it over she spluttered in anger to found it empty and Tao ran to the kitchen on his little feet, stepping up the small, rickety stool to reach into the upper cupboard for the bottle stashed there, being as quickly as he can before his mother decide to unleash her anger at him instead.

When he handed her the bottle the sleeve of his tattered tunic slipped down and his mother exclaimed in surprise, grabbing his thin wrist to peer at it better. Tao’s eyes widened when he spotted something dark etched into his skin, a mark that wasn’t there yesterday. It looked dark and foreboding on his pale skin and Tao trembled at the sight.

His mother dragged him with her to wake his father, still holding on to his wrist.  His father grumbled and cursed at them for waking him up so early, but the moment his mother showed him the mark on Tao’s wrist he immediately sprung out of bed in interest.

They held a heated talk over it, voices rose over with excitement the longer they talk, with words like ‘money’ and ‘richness’ thrown here and there, ignoring Tao even as they held on tight to his arm.

Suddenly they pushed him aside, telling him not to leave the house before leaving themselves towards the village’s direction.

Tao looked at the open door until he couldn’t see them anymore, before turning his attention back to the mark on his skin. The dark symbol was small, etched just on the inside of his right wrist, picturing a tree with clear details.

He brought his other hand to rub at the mark but it didn’t come off, as if it was etched deep into his skin. Yet the action of simply rubbing his hand over it gave him a small comfort, warmth blooming in his chest and a pleasant hum begin to sound comfortingly in his mind.

So Tao slid down until he sat on the floor, not really understanding why his parents were in such excitement over his new-found mark, but somehow comprehending enough to know that it will begin something new for him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It took longer than he’d thought, almost a full two months before something happened.

His mother called him into the house when he came back from gathering firewood, a rare smile on her face as she beckoned him in, ushering him to stand in front of a woman he’d never seen before in his life.

The woman looked like she was in her early-forties, a few gray hairs peppering her otherwise brunette hair, with thick eyebrows and stern thin lips that scared Tao and he stumbled back in anxiety. But then the woman broke out into a kind smile, her eyes crinkling around the edges from the gesture and Tao blinked unsurely because it has been a long time since anyone ever smiled so kindly to him.

“Hello, little boy.” She offered a hand out, waiting patiently for him to take it. “I’ve come a long way to find you.”

Tao looked on in hesitation, stumbling when his father prodded him forward harshly. The woman glanced sharply at the gesture, though it quickly changed back into a smile as she crouched down to be eye level with Tao.

“You can call me Matron Tanzi. What is your name?”

Her hands were callous and rough but so warm as she grasped Tao’s much smaller one in hers, and he stuttered as he mumbled his name. She asked permission to look his wrist over, smiling wider at the mark visibly clear underneath the sleeve of his tunic. Then she took out a parchment from a cloth bag behind her, rolling it over the table and lifted him up in her arms so Tao could look it over.

The scroll had several symbols etched on it, twelve in total. Some of them looked intricate and complicated, but Tao’s eyes quickly focusing on one, hands unconsciously grabbing for it. Matron Tanzi smiled at that and lowered him down sl