"The past is but the beginning of a beginning, and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn."
By : H.G. Wells
Prelude...
It couldn't be true! Yet she was there. The darkest coal hair and the most sanguine of red eyes. Her immaculate pale face. That tortured expression of 3,700 years of existence! Yet she didn't show any signs of physical fading: She was indeed the first dhampir born in the temples of the fertility goddesses and their ox.{He kept that fact a secret from a promise to her; She trusted in him and still even that wasn't broken.}
There was only one who was that ancient and she was Zenobia. The power she possessed and the wisdom she acquired through long life made her a force of nature. Aro desired that power.
The three kings sat on their thrones. Yet only one seemed lost in his thoughts and he was Aro. Marcus took notice of his brother's distress rather quickly. He asked: "Is there something wrong? My brother? You seem disturbed?"
Aro turned his head and said to Marcus and Caius: "I am unsure what your reaction is going to be once I deluge this to you, My brothers... So have mercy with your reactions to what I'm going to tell you..."
"What is it you wish to tell us? Brother?" Caius replied.
"Our Thanasis has tracked down the presence of our dear Zenobia." Aro foretold. It has been over three thousand years since her supposed sacrifice.
"That primitive matriarch? It can't be! She was killed in the fires that destroyed our palace in Athens thousands of years ago!" Caius sneered laying back in his throne.
"She saved us by her own sacrifice for the survival of her sons and daughters. If it wasn't for Zenobia none of us would still be here." Mediated Marcus who remembered the event. She in fact charged recklessly through the fires. Painting the stone walls red with werewolf and human blood. After the fall, Aro and the others thought she had died. Aro was surprised that he did not end up catatonic like Marcus when he killed Didyme. This proved that Zena wasn't his for eternity. Even that didn't kill how he thought about her.
"Yes, That is true my brother." Aro pondered doubting about they have been accomplishing all this time and tried to stay to the facts, He hated feeling uncertain and insecure, "She is the one who made the foundation of what this clan has been all about and we are the ones who built upon it."
"When she was around there were no laws and we were not safe." Caius said sitting straighter in his throne.
"Those days were much different by todays standards. She left the other clans in awe."
They had forever to retrieve and hunt down Zenobia. Aro was most ardent to learn about Zena's well-being. His memories of her painted into his mind. She was as magnificent as she was deadly. Unstoppable force of nature. War-like.
It was by her virtue that he was her rightful successor. He wondered if she would come and try to take her power back. In the past she was always more interested in fighting the battles and unconcerned with politics. After everything he doubted that she would. She had hidden so long all by herself.
Aro decided they would first investigate how she lived during this time before acting.
Chapter 1:
The year was 1671. The English weather was the usual rainy and unforgiving. The waves hit the rocks below the cliff in an aggressive fashion. Strong sea scent filled Zenobia's nostrils. She watched as a blonde man jumped off the cliff in a suicide attempt.
She walked down to the shore line as he washed up on the sand. She knelt down in her pale rose corseted dress and removed the sea weed covering him and giggled: "Sir, That is not going to work."
The light blonde haired man gazed up at her. He frowned and said, "... I am cursed."
"A cursed existence or not; being dead doesn't solve the curse... Using the curse to your advantage doe's make life easier living with it." Wisdom spewed from her mouth and he began to recognize it.
He peered up with his hollow eyes to see a bewitching woman in her early twenties. Her curly black hair rested on her shoulders and down her back. Her skin the color of faded bronze. Her features neither strong or soft. Angular. Her smell confused him she smelt of vampire and faintly of human. Her medieval clothing did not match her person. She seemed more like an amazoness carved from marble of an earlier era. She did not match their surroundings. What was she doing in the British Isles?
"Who are you?" He asked standing on his feet. The water dripping from his satin sky blue coat with white cuffs and wood buttons.
"I am Zenobia, And you are?" She asked with a smile.
"I am Carlisle Cullen. You ...are what I am?" He took close inspection of her own empty eyes.
"Indeed... I am." She replied humorlessly. "You are... What mortals call vampire... You cannot die by regular means and yet are capable of so much more."
"Capable of what other than killing?"
"You are immortal now and you will never age. Mastering your interests becomes possible and in doing so you may benefit from yourself and for the benefit of others." Zenobia explained her dark eyes gazing at him.
Carlisle thought for a moment longer and spoke, "What are you doing out here?"
"I live in a ruined Scottish castle. Though I didn't originate from this part of Europe. I am hiding here."
"Why?"
"I live in isolation from both worlds. Vampire and human. For their safety and my own." She explained taking off her white glove and lending out her right hand to him.
"Isolation?" He took her hand and when he looked down at this seemingly delicate hand; Carlisle recognized the sea glass like of her long fingernails and felt the softness of her palms. Also the paint marks on her hands."You are a painter?"
"Yes, Would you like to see my collection?" She asked kindly.
"Yes, It would be an insult to refuse."
Zenobia lived in a small castle in the hills to the east of the cliffs. Farms laid on plots of lush green land. Dozens of sheep were being herded by shepherds. Much of this scenery reminded Zenobia of the ancient days. Except for the better structures and fashion sense.
Zenobia used paintings to materialize the past and her memories. The things she did and the people she knew. The natural settings that stayed in her mind but withered with age; as she did not.
The younger vampire walked closely beside her. The feeling he received from her was that of struggle and years of existence. Passive. Maybe guilt of the past bothered her. Yet still Zenobia puzzled Carlisle; She hid so well even if she was standing next to him. Her step was like a whisper in the ruins of the past. She was ancient... Any vampire could sense that.
She could see a fire in the distance and the smell of smoke and blood. Zenobia centered around this disturbance. A cottage was on fire. It's barn and the hay roof of the home ablaze. Even though she shouldn't Zenobia wanted to know what was going on. As she approached a vampire ran out of the cottage and into a near by grove.
"Carlisle! Save the mortals in the cottage! I will get him!" Zenobia shouted out to her follower who complied in agreement.
Zenobia chased after the unknown vampire. As fast as she could into the Scottish highland forest. She catched up close enough to him to be able to use her molecular manipulation. With this power she bursted the arms and legs of the crystal being.
"Why did you attack these people? Scum!?" She asked the dismembered vampire. Her red eyes could see it in his own; this vampire was a tracker... Why?
"Murderess, You finally come out! Zenobia!" He chuckled menacingly as his female mate came up behind Zenobia and restrained her with both of her arms.
Zenobia closed her eyes and obliterated the female vampire into shards of heated diamonds with her powers. "Is this about the Volturi?"
"No, My master Kerudu has been looking for you all his existence and I believe that the Volturi have too... Destroy me..." He answered truthfully and Zenobia offered his last wish.
"You are below me, vermin." She whispered dispersing the existence of the vampire.
By now Carlisle already saved the bodies of the family. He laid them down on the grass. Zenobia could only hear the heart beat of one. The heart of the daughter who was dying. Her blonde companion was reluctant to do anything to kill her or to make her a vampire.
Zena recalled this girl. She was Imogen Mac Carthy. The fourteen year old daughter of a poor farmer. She was their only child. Imogen was a good natured girl who treated everyone kindly and fair. She was poorly educated but clever.
"Cullen! She only has minutes of life left! Let's save her."
"And condemn her soul to damnation?" He cried. Zenobia could see the pain in his eyes.
Zenobia closed her grey eyes. Religion was something she respected but chose not to follow. She was a realist after all. A vampire realist?
"Then she would never have had a chance at all full life. This is mercy." Zenobia said as a frail voice spoke up.
Zenobia bit the wrist of the burnt girl. She could smell the burnt flesh and auburn hair of this poor teen. Her venom entered the veins and every part of her body. A few hours later she would look like her former self. It was because of Zenobia's occupation on this land that these humans were targeted. She also failed to mention what the vampire said about the Volturi and that indestructible swine Kerudu who had complete regeneration from any kind of physical destruction. Didn't we throw him down an active volcano 3,000 years ago? Using Themis's telekinesis?
She invited Cullen to her residence. A collapsed castle with green moss and forest over grown suffocating the surroundings. She lived in the only accessible part of the castle. The dungeon. As they entered through a sewer like entrance and walked down a stone stairs to pitch black darkness. They both could see in the dark and so had no problems navigating the ruins. They arrived at her main chamber which was stacked with treasures, jewelry, paintings, books, and an old bed with velvet blankets. He recognized screen plays and several books written in english. Did she teach herself english? Write and to read?
Cullen gently placed young Imogen on the rouge of Zena's bed. He could see how fast she was changing yet she laid there peaceful and at rest. She was the first transformation he had ever seen. His own was painful and her's was everything and painful. An act of desperation.
Zenobia displayed her works of art to Carlisle. These paintings seemed as if an Italian renaissance artist painted them. There was one that displayed many vampires who surrounded Zenobia who sat on a stone throne. Another portrait of a dark haired man of red eyes and regal posture. She learnt to paint from an Italian artist when she herself was dealing with the lows of immortality and abandonment by that traitor Themis.
"From these two paintings this man must have been your steward. He has the second most power in the painting." Carlisle analyzed closely and assuredly.
"Yes, You are correct. He is Aro. A fool who is too ambitious and manipulative for his own good." She said smirking lightly.
"He could be your brother."
"Is that a jest from you? Mr. Cullen?" Zenobia laughed.
"Dry humor wasn't one of my strong suits." He acknowledged respectfully with a nod.
"Besides that... I am Aro's sire. By appearance we could have been brother and sister. He has absolutely no value in the lifes of vampires, shape changers, animals, and humans. Power, secrecy, law and control over the vampire world is the only thing that matters to the leaders of the Volturi. The talented are only tools. After all this time... I still blame myself..." Zenobia confessed looking forward to the painting she created.
"Why do you blame yourself?"
"I am the guide who laid out the current politics in motion. In the beginning; First came the responsibility and need to protect our lands, people, and supply. So came the formation of clans and the prospect of power. With the lust for and of the powerful and resources came war. With war comes death and destruction. The outcome is the need for order and security. The laws and regulations are formed that the conquered and conquerors must obey. I started the wars and my successors created the laws... There isn't a day where I don't regret the chaos I once insued in this world. They say we are frozen in time but we all change after catastrophe and compromise."
"You have a conscious of right and wrong, Zenobia. That is a redeeming quality." Carlisle remarked kindly.
"I admire your unadulterated point of view... Not many vampires have a sense of right and wrong. Most of us go insane with blood lust and stay that way. The vampire who attacked the mortal family was a tracker. Those savages must be destroyed for the secrecy of all Blood drinkers. We must remain myths to the world." Zenobia explained as she continued to another art piece which shown her lover Themis and his follower Phoebe, "This man is Themis. He could move objects with his mind and the woman with him is Phoebe... On event; She became a tracker and insanely massacred a whole family to get what she wanted. Which eventually lead to the fall of our Athenian clan thousands of years ago."
"Who would damn an innocent little girl? To this existence?" Cullen turned to the very last portrait of a little girl.
"That is Callisto. A child who was created by the queen of the Olympic clan to be her daughter. She had a tough life but thanks to her powers she was able to go past the stage of a new born child and come out as a mature vampire. I haven't seen her in thousands of years. With that Volturi law... I wonder if she escaped from their misguidance."
"Volturi law?"
"The making of vampire children is punishable by death. They created the law because of the mad and uncontrollable blood thirst of these immortal children experience." She explained before entering her studio.
Zenobia sat down on an antique couch, crossed her legs, and ran her pale fingers through her long curling black hair and spoke to her yellow haired friend, "In the vampire world. Forming a family unit is necessary for the survival of sanity. I want to venture out into the world and live amongst the mortals once again. I have all the necessary currency to support us all... but I need guidance in the customs of this time and in return I will support all your endeavors with the fortune I possess and tell you what I know about our kind. Could this be a deal between us? Mr. Cullen?"
If he refused Zena would have Imogen as her new companion in her depths to take of mundane tasks. However she also realized how effected he was by the recent events in attendance of Zenobia. He saved the young girl and now Zena saw a new opportunity for her ascendance that she could not pass up.
Over her long existence Zena has developed a talent for character reading. By all his reactions and comments she realized what kind of person Carlisle Cullen was. He was a good natured, caring, compassionate and moral man. Extremely rare qualities in a vampire. A precious guardian.
"To blend in with humans. You will have to change your diet." He said seriously. He suspected she only fed from humans.
"My diet? Are you some doctor?... Don't answer that... What will you have me feed on? I feed from anything I can; from human to rodent." Zenobia requested as her eyes fell flat on the blonde's form. After studying him she had to admit he was absolutely ravishing. His sun touched hair and refined features made it hard not to ogle at him. The way he dressed also was admirable. It had been over a thousand years since she had been in the presence of a vampire like him. Zena wanted to touch him and he the same to her. Urges and instincts meddled her.
"You are a scavenger?" Carlisle asked for return.
"Like a fox... Yes. Anything that has warm blood is sustenance for a vampire... So I discovered." She claimed stoically. In all other ways she was a fox.
"Have you tried feeding only from animals?"
"We are in Europe, My friend. I feed from what I must to survive. It doesn't matter from a feral wolf to the intelligent homosapien." She could tell what was bothering him. "You fear feeding from humans? For a vampire... That is illogical thinking... Here there is minimal wild life but in other parts of Europe there is close to none... Like France or Italy. Humans are an over abundance everywhere... In desperate times your... bloodlust will take over to... feed you... I know how that is like."
He knew as well.
She had struck a blow in him with simple cutting words. Zenobia was indeed correct in many cases. As a former human he could not see himself harm something he respected greatly in his mortal life. The lifes of his friends, family and community. The lifes of other humans. Zena found herself more in line with the predatory animals in the forest and those did include humans. Humans were predators. All this time she hunted travelers, other outlaws, wild wolves who harrassed the farmers and lived in a den alone like an animal. She defended the local human village and the humans appreciated her assistance.
At times she had to kill the local villagers who were 'True Children Of The Moon' who went completely mad and attacked their community. She would either destroy them with her powers or find a way of breaking them and feed from the werewolf killing them the same. Drinking werewolve blood was taboo in the vampire reasoning. Yet, Zena tried it and she found the shapeshifting blood intoxicating.
Zena was a respected member of this nearby village by everything she did to keep order. Now she was feeling bored doing the same thing every day. She wanted to leave it behind. To hell with repetition.
"What you are saying is that you feed from the earth? Consume everything?"
"Blood is blood no matter who you take it from." She stated frankly.
Carlisle felt two arms clasp around his waistline. He faced down to see the young auburn curled haired girl. She gazed into his eyes with her red eyes. She spoke softly with a hint of innocence, "Thank you for saving me from the fire."
He feared saying the wrong thing to her. He didn't save her; He let her die. Zena was the one who saved her from death. Her eyes were the color of a demon's but there was also an unadulterated naivety in those tinges of ruby. It was like looking into the eyes of a new born child. He saw no malcontent. The evils of the world never touched her in mortal life. She only knew the love of her family and friends. She was Imogen.