Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any of its affiliates; they are the sole property of Stephanie Myer and always will be.

This story is set in an Alternate Universe.

ECHOES OF THE SOUL

Chapter One

Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.

– Frank Herbert

"Edward darling, stop sulking like a child and go explore our new home."

The soft, hazy sunlight that was trickling out from the broad, expansive branches and emerald-tinted leaves of a tall birch tree; highlighted the golden strains of mussed hair that swept casually over the dark jade eyes of a boy named Edward. Motionless, except for picking sullenly at the half-healed scab on his left knee, the young boy peered at the woman before him, beckoning him from across the neatly tended lawn. In response, the fair-head youth picked harder at the scab, making droplets of blood well against his pale skin, and simply glared softly in her direction. This sucked.

Ignoring the pitiable and somewhat kittenish glower of her young son, Elizabeth Masen pulled her blue sundress free from a wayward, budding rosebush and wiped the beads of sweat that gathered on her brow away with one pale, graceful hand; it was quite a bit warmer in this new town than it had been in Chicago. It would take a little getting used to.

Soft jade-hued eyes brushed over the house that occupied the sweeping green lawn and Elizabeth smiled warmly; the soft off-white walls and pale blue shutters were newly painted, and the blooming spring flowers in the lace-curtained window boxes made the home even more inviting in her eyes. Edward senior, her husband, had gone ahead of them two weeks before the move to prepare the house, and set the furniture and the rest of the furnishings into place. Fourteen Cherry-tree Lane was at last completely ready to occupy the both her and her husband, along with their ten-year old son. And the country will be so much better for Edward.

As his mother opened the rich wine-coloured wooden double doors that were the entrance to their new home; Edward finally, albeit very grudgingly, stood to his feet and followed behind her. His feet kicked at the lush grass in rather pointless defiance as he approached the house reluctantly with a peevish expression covering the entirety of his childish face.

Tugging at the exceedingly itchy and now wholly worthless green sweater that scraped irritatingly against his sweaty skin; Edward trailed after his mother, a wicked smirk on his face when he noticed, with undeniable satisfaction, that his formal black-laced shoes had now left dirt stained footprints all over the once pristine white floor. Stomping his feet several more times just for good measure, the auburn-haired youth plodded up the spiralling, wooden staircase that led to the second-floor of the country house that his parents had quite unrealistically assumed he would soon call his home. But I won't. Chicago is my home.

There were just two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second-floor, and Edward readily disregarded the pale pastels and earthy tones of the suite nearest to the staircase, assuming correctly that the room was his parents and not his; not that it was all that difficult to guess. None of the possessions in the tastefully decorated room were his, and there was a large king-sized bed, instead of his single.

Bypassing the neat and gleaming white bathroom, Edward drifted toward the room that happened to be farthest away from the staircase; the room that was decorated in both aesthetically pleasing and functional bold blues and calm creams. Everything was here already, as he'd been informed by his father that it would.

His bed with its solid cherry-wood frame and soft, downy comforter; his vast and ever expanding music collection; his few, yet beloved DVDs, along with the large range of toys that had been various bribes gifted to him prior to the move... but last and most importantly, there was the sleek black, baby grand piano.

His parents had a much larger and more impressive instrument downstairs, but since Edward had such a love of the both the music and the art of pianism, it too had been part bribe/part tenth birthday gift given to him just before he and his parents had left Chicago. And it happened to be the only bribe that Edward had not deeply resented once he found out the reason for the mountainous piles of gifts. After all, he loved the piano far too much to take out his anger on it.

Ignoring his copious amounts of possessions in favour of a much used pastime of his, Edward sat lightly on his perfectly made up bed and proceeded to brood silently. It was a talent, a gift one could say; an art form of his that he had perfected when he did not get his way. As the only, beloved child of two overly-affectionate and doting parents, Edward could plead guilty to being a little spoiled and often more liable to tantrums that most children of his age group.

"Edward dear, we have visitors! Come down and say hello, my darling."

Grumbling beneath his breath about pestering mothers and horribly embarrassing nicknames that they couldn't help but dole out as if they were delicious candy, Edward tore the ugly sweater, that he had unfortunately donned, off of his body and absentmindedly smoothed the wrinkles from the formal button-down shirt that he had on underneath. Why can't Gran try and make me something that isn't coloured in that horrible puke green?

Tucking his shirt into the grey slacks that his father had insisted he wear as they would most likely be visited by the neighbours; Edward kicked off his muddy shoes and ignored the way the pair landed haphazardly about his once tidy room, instead making his way back downstairs to meet his mother's guests. The wayward preteen drew the action out as long as he possibly could without angering his mother (no point in doing that); it was the only safe vindictive action that he could employ. Edward did not want to be here... he didn't want to be anywhere but Chicago, where all his friends lived no more than two blocks away, with the familiar house which he grew up in and the hustle and bustle of the city. This country town did not interest him in the slightest.

A flicker of blonde caught the corner of his eye, and his attention, and so despite his progressively fouling mood, Edward smiled at his mother. Her jade eyes met his and Elizabeth Masen beamed encouragingly in his direction; her entire face lighting up in the ease and joy of her warm smile. His gaze slid past her after a second to the dark-suited man behind his mother with one hand wrapped affectionately around her waist; his father was very tall, fit and had dark, burnished red hair. Only the barest hint of a smile curved his somewhat severely-thin lips, but Edward could see that his grey-blue eyes were sparkling with delight and contentment. Father was the main reason for the move in the first place – apparently he had loved growing up in a close knit country town, the only reason he had left had been for his mother.

"Edward dear, these are our new neighbours; Mrs Hale and her children, Rosalie and Alec. Say hello darling."

Turning away from the familiar faces of his loving, albeit slightly irritating, parents, Edward took in the apparent new neighbours of his. Mrs Hale and her progeny were all willowy in stature and all were blonde, though the shade varied between all three of them; Mrs Hale's was a soft and light buttery colour, whereas her daughter, Rosalie, had a more golden shade and her brother's, Alec leant towards a pale almost white, blonde. They were all dressed impeccably, if a little less formally than himself and his family were, in various shades of mellow blues – which Edward noticed only emphasized the shared sapphire-colour of their eyes.

"Hello Mrs Hale. Rosalie. Alec. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

The obvious elegance of their apparel, and their somewhat reserved demeanours did not stop Mrs Hale from bustling forward towards the young boy and wrapping Edward in a life-threateningly tight hug, which was quickly followed by the soft sniggering of Alec, and the exasperated, rolled eyes of the older Rosalie Hale. Before he died of asphyxiation, Mrs Hale finally relinquished her hold and let him go, Edward immediately breathing in the fresh air gratefully, completely ignorant of the amused looks of nearly everyone in the room.

"Anyway, if you need anything Elizabeth, we are happy to help. Alec is ten as well, so Edward feel free to come over anytime, and Ro-"

The sharp, punctuated and unmistakeable shrill of a mobile phone reverberated through the house, and immediately the teenager called Rosalie disappeared as if on fire, one finger to her ear and lips moving at a previously unthought-of speed. A frustrated sigh escaped Mrs Hale's lips as she ushered Alec to one side and afterward followed both Elizabeth and Edward senior out of the room with a rant already in full throttle, "Thank your lucky stars you do not have a teenage daughter, Elizabeth. That girl is on that infernal phone every single minute of the day... and do not even get me started on the boys-"

Great, they left me with Alec... are they expecting us to bond or something? Not happening.

Silent, crawling minutes passed as the pair of ten-year olds unconsciously squared off and starting sizing each other up, both of them wary and curious of the other at the same time. Alec had a baby-face and stood a whole half-foot taller than Edward, but while the blonde-haired boy was lanky and as thin as a beanstalk, Edward had somewhat of a more elegant, sinewy build. Flexing one eyebrow in Alec's direction when five minutes finally passed, the auburn-haired youth caved, sighed and held out his hand in silent welcome. A confident smile easing it way onto his slightly too-large-for-his-face mouth, Alec shrugged disarmingly and clasped the proffered hand and pumped it once, twice, three times before inquiring, "So its Edward, right? Some of my friends are coming over to play video games tomorrow around ten. Wanna come as well?"

Hell no. "Sure. Sounds great, Alec."

At the auburn-haired youth's half-hearted reply, Alec's cautious behaviour evaporated like rain did on a particularly hot day; his blue eyes sparkling and his lips pulled into a broad grin, which showed the absence of one baby tooth, "Okay, see you then, Ed."

Confused by the dismissive tone in the other boy's voice, Edward quirked his eyebrow again, but movement in the corner of his eye answered his unspoken question for him. Alec's mother was clutching his in a soft, one-armed hug, but was already motioning her blonde-haired son that it was time to left with the other hand. As mother and son departed, Edward breathed a near soundless sigh of relief, though his father's stern look let him know that his actions didn't exactly go unnoticed as he had planned.

Still... In the wake of the blonde's departure, only one thought was running freely through Edward's mind as he headed into the newly refurbished kitchen, motivated strongly by the scent of his mother's mouth-wateringly delicious chicken-bacon sandwiches.

Ed? Aw, hell no is that happening.

Wiping his grease-stained fingers on his crumpled, yet still formal pants, much to his mother's dismay, Edward chugged the glass of juice that his mother handed him and absently wiped some of the clinging pulp from his lip with his sleeve; this time to his father's half-hearted reprimand.

Deciding to ignore both implied reproofs with the obliviousness one only retains as a child, Edward thanked his mother for the taste-tingling lunch, and half-protesting the action, let his father tousle his already dishevelled coppery locks. Content and with a full stomach, Edward slipped away quickly and bounded up the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the house. Though he was still upset that his parents had uprooted him from his birthplace and home with barely any warning and absolutely no agreement on his part; the inviting lure of the near new baby grand eased the anger a little. Just a little though.

Pulling out the padded leather stool from beneath the piano and situating himself on top of it as comfortably as was possible, Edward Masen flexed his fingers in anticipation and then lifted the lid of his beloved piano. Smiling contently down at the mismatched keys, Edward closed his eyes and pressed down on the familiar chords; somehow feeling like home was just a little bit closer now.

Cracking open his eyelids after a few soothing minutes of nostalgia, Edward opened his music book to the bookmarked page and then let his fingers coax each and every note into forming a beautiful, soft melody. Downstairs, resting in the lounge, his parents listened blissfully as their only son let his gift surround the house; in that moment, making the both of them feel just a little more content, and just a little more at home here in this new town.

Eyes closing once again on their own accord, Edward's slight frame swayed slightly under the power of the song he was playing. Fingers moving with effortless grace, he played and played and played; and when the song finally drew to a close, he couldn't stop the soft, yet brilliant smile that crawled on to his lips; one that lit up every feature on his small, childish face.

"You play beautifully."

Fingers stuttering to a halt, and eyes widening in shock at the sudden, and very unfamiliar voice; Edward turned hesitantly and promptly fell off his chair at the sight. Jaw slack at the unexpected appearance of the person before him, Edward hastily scrambled to his feet and took in the sight with a somewhat dumbfounded expression. There, sitting delicately on his bed like she had been there her entire life was a young girl of about nine or ten. Even now, with Edward looking a ridiculous as he was, she merely watched him unblinkingly with wide, doe-like eyes. Brown – no, mahogany - locks fell in soft, delicate curls around her face; framing her softly tanned skin, her innocent brown eyes, little button nose and red petal-like lips. She was wearing a bright, buttery sleeved-sundress with a white ribbon wrapped about her waist and tied in a flimsy little bow. Her petite feet were encased in rich cream dress shoes with pure white stockings that were tied with small butter-yellow bows. She was quite cute for a ten-year old... and for a girl.

And now she is on my bed for some reason or another. "Who are you?"

The confusion and bewilderment was heavy in Edward's voice, so much so that a soft accentuated amused smile slid onto the young girl's face. Pondering the young boy for a few minutes, while a slight hand rose to twirl its fingertips in her glossy brown hair, the girl promptly ignoring Edward's query, tilted her head to one side and choose to gaze into the apparent nothingness. After a brief moment or two, her dazed eyes sharpened, and she shook her head as if to clear away the thing that was hindering her concentration, and asked jade-eyed boy curiously, "Was that Beethoven? It was simply wonderful."

Finding himself nodding automatically in answer to the strange girl's question, Edward finally shook himself free of the bewildering stupefaction that had numbed his body and clouded his head (now, the both of them had suffered it... curious), and stood. Hesitating but a moment – girls were icky after all, but she was in his bedroom – Edward finally moved closer to where the girl was sitting comfortably on his bedspread and sat down stiffly beside her. Turning slightly, so that he was facing her properly, Edward reached out with one hand in welcome and replied politely, "I'm Edward Masen. And who are you?"

The petite, nameless brunette gazed at the proffered, outstretched hand in puzzled perplexity (as if she did not understand the gesture at all), neither raising her hand in acceptance of the greeting or asking Edward to lower his as a rejection. Instead, the girl merely let her doe-eyed gaze rest on his jade eyes for the barest of seconds before she smiled readily and answered in a sort of quivering chime-like tone, "Bella, and it's very nice to meet you, Edward Masen."

What...?