Author's Note: Be warned, homophobes, these walls be slash. This is a joint project. Hi, I'm Ezra! And I'm Casey, just tagging along, too lazy to make an account. We have read Twilight, half of New Moon and a few parts of Breaking Dawn and have not opened the monster that is Eclipse. Yes, we are both inexperienced in the field of Stephenie Meyer's series. And we don't really like the Mary-Sue that is Isabella Swan. But we also hate bashing characters, so... Whatever happens will happen. We have watched the movies repeatedly for our brains to contain at east the teeniest knowledge. Not much action in this chapter, though, just an introduction. Enjoy!
Pairings: Edward/Harry, slight Jacob/Harry and probably if the audience chooses otherwise, Benjamin/Harry (all in that order)
Disclaimer: We own nothing but a few pens and a whole box of scratch paper. What else do we have? Some juice boxes and haribo. Anything else? No, nothing at all.
Chapter 1: The Storm That Brought You To Me
Stand defiant. Live forever, restless man. Clouds cradle the red, red moon, a golden boy.
I sit on the cold tile floor without much care of the rough bumps that edge on my skin. A book is floating in the air but I have long forgotten its presence. There is a glass of cold water on the wooden desk I am leaning on, and it has been there for a really long time, surviving on the crackling, Egyptian sun. I have not touched it nor found it useful. I do not even know why it is there.
Like the sweating glass I have not moved for who knows how long. Time is an anomaly to me, most especially when I am in a state of stupor.
A gloved hand traces the foot of the table. The soft, white tip gathers dust.
I lazily listen to the birds from above and the sound of running water coming from a fountain nearby. It is a Sunday and the markets are closed. It is unusually silent for me. The ambiance lacks the slapping of sandals against the ground or the shouts of traders and customers, usually selling fresh figs in the heat of summer.
There are no windows in this room. It is not comfortable to be living in a cemented cage but it's still home and I would rather be here than anywhere else.
I hear three small taps coming from the door. I know who is knocking but I prefer not to respond. He is welcome here anyway and he knows it. It's also his home and not just mine.
But this time he knocks again on the warm exterior of the wood. I can taste his hesitance over the mud and clay walls. It is odd because he is not a man to be hesitant.
The water from the fountain is louder now, more aggressive. I rejoice in the absence of silence.
Leaning over and letting my body feel my response to the lack of movement, I wait. What an oddity for Benjamin to not barge in like he usually does.
His knocking becomes impatient and for a second, I doubt it is him behind those doors. As I stand and cross the room, I think of how sedentary I have become in these past few days and how Benjamin has not visited my room in a long, long while
I let my body lean against the door, my ear pressed to listen though knowing fully well I could still hear everything in precision from my position not a while ago. I hear Benjamin's chuckle of amusement, but it does not seem right as he knocks even harder.
"What do you want?" I ask, not even taking the effort to raise my voice. His hearing is perfected and I do not doubt it.
"You will be surprised." He responds back and there is excitement bubbling in his voice. "Amun has company."
His last word is an octave higher and I can picture him practically bouncing in excitement.
I do not move as I breathe in a heaping sum of unneeded air. I watch as the small microorganisms swirl and carry themselves into my mouth with ease. I am far too tired to feel the excitement. But I am quite interested in this company. It is very rare for us to even hear the voice of another.
I straighten up and open the door, revealing a smiling Benjamin and his bright red eyes.
"Have you seen them?" I breathe out.
Benjamin looks at me and says, "No, but I can hear the shuffling of feet and a few murmurs."
I watch him closely as his eyes flutter shut and his hand plays with the air, moving it to caress the wind.
"Don't you feel it?" he whispers, "The air is different, like it carries more than it normally should. There is a heavy weight."
"I heard the shuffling a while ago but I thought it was just a stray cat." I rub my hand sheepishly on the back of my neck. If I could, I would have blushed a little.
"Very funny, Harry." He flicks my nose. "You know there are people of our kind above. I do not doubt your senses. I know you want to see them, too."
He extends his hand to mine in a welcoming invitation but I do not dare touch it.
"But Amun—" I tell him but he interrupts me before I could say anything else.
"Has he told us to stay away? It has been what, a long six years since he has said anything to us about his…friends. We are family and don't you think we have the right to know our father's acquaintances?" The word father sounds strange coming from him.
I open my mouth but no words come out. I remain still, like a statue in the oddest position, before answering, "Well, what are you waiting for?"
He blinks, "That is all?"
"What?"
"That is all it takes to convince you? And I thought you were just prude." He wrinkles his nose and makes a face.
He laughs a hearty laugh and I join him, reveling in the echoes they make.
His hand is still extended to me and now I gladly accept it. His larger hand rubs against my gloved one in a smooth caress. Not even a second later, we are above the ground, floating like clouds above the mosaic flooring.
"I see you have mastered something without telling me." I say to him playfully. I push my foot a little harder on the invisible floating bubble he created, impressed at the small shield that wouldn't let me go any further. So this is why he's disappeared for weeks from my sight.
His smile is dazzling, like my very own sun in the dark catacombs of this underground temple. But he puts a finger to my mouth before walking further. It is a long way to the piazza and we might miss these mysterious friends of our sire.
We walk from hallway to hallway in silence. Our sandals are noiseless as they touch the airborne barrier. I wave my hand and whisper a few words, eyebrows slightly creased, and the familiar shiver runs down my spine and I know Benjamin feels it too. I look toward him and see him already being engulfed into nothingness. First, his feet, then to his torso and until the last coiled ringlet around his face disappears.
I smile triumphantly and walk a little faster. A little teamwork does not hurt.
As I look down I could not even see my own feet. I let a hand run through my hair, a human habit that has not yet left me. It is always odd to not see myself but know I am there. It is even odder to feel my body move and not see myself do the action I want it to do.
As we travel a little bit upwards, I feel my excitement escalate.
We pass by yet another hallway but this time there are faint murmurs that paint the edges. We both stop to listen.
Voices.
I huff, irritated, as they speak in hushed tones as if they know someone is trying to listen.
But I feel the beat in my chest reach a high peak, joining the bubbling exhilaration in my head. I am disappointed to know that the single beating in my chest is louder than their words. I listen to the voices again, force my ears to be more sensitive but hear nothing but the abstruse mix of syllables and pauses. They can mean anything and nothing at the same time.
Useless words that I relish in, I remind myself. Too frequently have I been alone that even the most incoherent murmuring I find myself savoring a little too much.
We continue our journey through the hallways, passing open sunlit rooms and closed ones, moving faster than our accustomed pace.
These mysterious unknowns begin to speak louder and our feet move faster, as if these people are encouraging them to speed up. I bask in the merging of the disembodied voices, cherish them and memorize every sound.
I am in a high, so exciting and so prohibited, daring myself to go further and further.
The contact I have with the outside world is very limited and even the blood I drink is brought in gobletsto avoid me going out. I have not sunk my teeth into a warm, inviting neck or tasted blood fresh from a breathing human. I have not spoken to a vampire other than Benjamin and Amun.
Amun treats me like I need the sanctuary he offers, even more so than he does to Benjamin. But worse is that he keeps both of us hidden, thinking these walls will shelter us from the dangers of our world. The last visitor we had we were restricted to our rooms.
And the question floats on and on… Who were these people Amun brought every millennia or so? Even Benjamin doesn't know.
Though Benjamin and I are smiling now as we wander aloft, it seems strained. There is still that invisible tension of defying the man who had cared for us and watched over us when we were young.
"Amun, please—"
Speak of the devil.
We reach the entrance to the square forum, a spacious garden a few feet from the temple itself. What keeps our skins from glowing here whenever we went out were the massive pillars that caved into the center like bended pieces of brown metal over a fire. The massive roofs shield from the sun.
There are columns that surround the whole garden and a large arc where Benjamin and I are hidden. I see their shadows next to a fountain, unmoving and tense. Following the silhouettes, I slowly trace everything with my eyes and embed it in my memory. Oh the excitement!
"We do not ask of much—"
It is the woman who speaks, a soft melodic trill that comes out of her lips. Though she is turned from my sight, I could say she was very beautiful. Her hair is light brown and curly, a halo covering her face. She is slender in every aspect, a young woman in her prime. I could see Amun and his touching brows, an angry frown mars his tan skin and his dark, curly hair, windswept and messy. He does not like the company. His red eyes are a flashing sign of discord.
And lastly, I could see a man with striking blond hair and a taut, strong frame. With his back facing me, I could not make much but the extreme paleness of his skin, unlike Amun's sun-kissed facade and so like my own. Akin to alabaster, with the sinews looking like carved porcelain on his neck prominent from being so tense.
What was so compelling about them I did not know. But it managed to draw me away from their conversation for a few, slow seconds.
I listen more intently even in their silence as they stare at each other in great offense, like statues, frozen gods in their youth cursed to an unmoving state.
Amun moves to speak, hesitates for a moment, before hissing "Carlisle, we can't—"
"Help. That is all we need." The blonde man, Carlisle, interrupts.
Carlisle. I let my lips form the name and smile at it slides out with surprising fluency. What an odd name for an even odder man.
Amun is angry, turning his back towards the two and moving to us. I freeze as he speaks, "We do not have what you want. We could not offer you something we could not give."
His voice is cold, so unlike the warm temperatures of the afternoon. His response resonates and it strikes everywhere, leaving the place unnaturally icy. I shiver, unused to this side of Amun.
"We only ask for your presence." The woman, I am yet to know her name, turns to follow him as she pleads. Her hand grasps his larger, more calloused one.
And it is there that I am mystified by the twist of this situation. The woman, I believe is a vampire, yes. But looking at her now… I did not see a woman anymore.
All I could see where her eyes.
The intensity of her glare, the enormity of her plea and most of all… the unusual color of her eyes.
The shadows made by the pillars miss her as she treads a little closer to Amun. Her skin, hit by the rays of the sun, shines like a thousand diamonds rooted in her. I watch her eyes hit the glare of the afternoon sun and see the gold in it shine even more. It is more noticeable now that it is emphasized by light.
Amun pulls his hand away from hers but turns to her in a gesture that looks sympathetic. "I am sorry but—"
"If you could just listen you will understand that the child is no harm." Carlisle, still inert, whispers more than says.
The child? Could it be...?
I lean to them unconsciously, drawn to their conversation even more than I believe I am. My ears perk up and my eyes glow in interest.
"How are you so sure? She can serve as a threat to my family. I do not wish to be involved with the Volturi, much more to be against them."
The Volturi! I stifle a gasp. To be webbed in a situation like this… If I stay any longer, I would be asking for suicide. I wonder what Benjamin feels about this.
Carlisle turns stiffly and I am met with the same golden eyes and a sharp, angular face. "Just listen to us, Amun."
Amun's hand rubs his forehead, and not for the first time I see the tire behind the expertly carved mask.
"No—"
"She does not need to feed on blood. She can perfectly adapt to human food." My eyes widen and my feet move closer to Carlisle, fascinated by the story he weaves from his mouth. I feel like a moth, and them the flame.
"Carlisle, Esme…" Amun turns to look at the woman with calculating eyes. His finger twitches.
Esme. Again I let me mouth trace over her name and see that it comes out with ease. Such a wonderful name, I say to myself. But who were these vampires? What did they know?
I could see the discomfort in all their eyes, burgundy red and harsh gold alike flashing the same emotion. Remnants of hope are still littered across Carlisle's frame.
"Listen, Amun. She is different." Esme says and now she begins to sound like she is begging, "She lives like any human. She has blood inside of her. Her heart beats like any other child. She is not a threat to us. She is a gift."
The silence that follows chokes all of us. No one dares to move and even the wind has stopped swaying the long fronds of the palm trees. I hate how no one responds. I hate how interesting the story has become. I hate how Amun does not wish to be part of it. And most of all, I hate how little I know of our world and the world of our pasts.
All hope that surrounds Carlisle diminishes. Esme looks to the side and watches the birds fly to the east.
No one challenges the silence anymore, knowing that speaking would only aggravate Amun.
Leaves from every corner of the garden come flying everywhere, upward and upward until the brown and red patches are spread on the floor. Dry air washes over me. The current of the wind blows on us and its tail slashes the trees. Stronger it gets and the leaves dance. It is impossible for the monsoon winds to reach this far during summer.
I watch a leaf land on the top of Esme's head. Their faces are cautious. Carlisle looks at Amun suspiciously before his hand darts out to touch Esme's.
Amun curses. I let out a groan, knowing our cover will most likely be blown.
Benjamin's soft laughter booms in my ears. In the heavy silence it sounds like thunder. I wait for the avalanche as Amun's eyes land on Benjamin, still invisible. He walks slowly to us like a crouching panther. His eyes narrow. My hands twitch, wanting to tighten over his neck. So much for heavy sleuthing…
But, by some divine intervention, Amun stops in his walking, and I hope he does not credit the wind's behavior to Benjamin. I hope his mind is too crowded to even think of Benjamin and me though I know that is most unlikely.
A vein on Amun's forehead spasms as he speaks.
"I am sorry, Carlisle. But no amount of convincing would allow me to leave." He says tightly, "Do not waste your breath. I will not listen anymore."
This is it. He is asking them to leave. I watch as another opportunity begins to fade with the remaining hope that was Carlisle's request. I see Amun's shrewd but faraway look and before I know it, there is a soft voice ringing in my ears.
"I wish to hear about the child."
My eyes widen and I look to my left, the only spot big enough for Benjamin's invisible body to fit. Three heads shoot up to look in our direction.
God, I desperately want to take those awful words and shove them back into the mouth from where they came.
But too late.
My hand touches my lips, still open from speaking. My mind has gone blank. My mouth tastes sour. Have I just defied Amun in front of an audience of vampires?
I know I said it in a whisper but it was as clear as day, especially to them. They heard what I said. They know I am here.
Though part of me wishes to go die in a hole, another part tells me to ignore my sire and speak up.
And who knows whom I'm listening to now.
Amun's eyes widen in panic and he strides to me blindly, all composure lost. His anger reaches me in waves but for once, I am not affected. I wave my hand and I feel a heavy blanket lift from me. As Benjamin recovers from the spell, I count my chances of coming out of this situation alive.
Breathing in, I slowly move from the arc's cover and face the three elder vampires. All eyes focus on me. I am uncomfortable with their stares but I raise my head in an attempt to look convinced of my decision.
Carlisle looks at me curiously. I return his stare with an unsure smile. I feel my enthusiasm flutter when he smiles back.
And slowly, my excitement eats away the fear and numbs me from feeling any doubt.
Without even a second's passing, Amun is beside me. Gripping my arm rather fiercely, he whispers, "What are you doing here?"
I ignore him and shake his arm off.
"I want to hear more of this child." I say and Esme's face lights up, even stronger than the rays of the sun. "I want to help."
I think I might get myself killed because of this.
But I don't care.
Word Count: 3,214
Date: January 1, 2013