DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Twilight series.

Hey!! So sorry for the delay, busy week :(

You guys are the best – a lot of you reviewed and that only made me want to write more. Thanks everyone! Just out of curiosity, how many of you guessed what Bella's becoming before you read this chapter? There were a couple clues . . .

So this chapter may also seem a little slow, but that's because I need Bella to think things through a little.

Enjoy!

Chapter Two

The feeling began to return slowly. Very, very slowly. The darkness over my eyelids slipped away too; and gradually, I regained consciousness.

I opened my eyes carefully, staring at the ceiling. I didn't dare twitch a finger for several long moments, afraid the ferocious pain would return.

But nothing happened.

Cautiously, I sat up. Something rustled. Then, when still nothing happened, I got to my feet. My eyes promptly strayed to the large mirror on the wall.

I felt my whole body go ice-cold the second I saw my reflection; with a yell of shock, I jerked backwards, the back of my knees crashing with the rim of the bath. I tumbled on my back, my hands instinctively lowered to catch my fall.

As my back hit the floor, I heard that same rustling.

Oh no. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible. It wasn't . . .

You accepted the existence of vampires so easily, a voice whispered through my mind. And you accepted the existence of werewolves as well, even if it took you a little longer. Why do you refuse to accept this?

Why do you refuse to accept that there is a pair of wings attached to your back?

But this is different, I argued with myself. This is happening to me!!

The little voice spoke up again. That makes it all the more easy to accept, since the proof is right before your eyes.

Vampires exist. Werewolves exist. So why shouldn't faeries exist?

Hesitantly, I got back to my feet and approached the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, pale and wide-eyed.

It was familiar – and yet so very different.

My hair was still long and mahogany. My eyes were still wide and chocolate-brown. My skin was still porcelain pale. My lips were still a little too full for my face.

But my hair was so much glossier than usual, gleaming and heavy. It looked thicker and longer than usual, hanging down my back like a dark curtain.

And my eyes were a little bigger than before. Not big in the popping, unattractive way, but large in the beautiful, gentle way. They seemed to dominate my face, dark and mysterious and ringed by a thick fringe of long lashes.

My skin seemed to glow with its own inner light. Its translucent quality seemed heightened and made more lovely, not the unhealthy chalk-white of before.

Those weren't quite the strangest changes, though. Looking down at my body, I noticed that it seemed slimmer, and at the same time curvier, than before. And, glancing back up at my reflection, I caught sight of the most startling difference, the one I had noticed first but was too chicken to think about.

Growing out of the dent between my shoulder blades, waving softly in a nonexistent breeze, shining in the florescent light, was a pair of large wings.

They were tinged the darkest black around the edges, but the rest was a golden hue, pale and dark at the same time, topaz, like the color of Edward's eyes. Thin, spidery veins of white snaked all through the golden, snow white.

I touched one wing gently, staring. What brought this on? Humans became vampires when they were bitten. Humans became werewolves when they lost control of their tempers, and then they had to be direct descendants of the werewolves as well. . . .

What made humans turn faeries? Was it at a certain age? Somehow, I doubted it. Was it genetic, like the werewolves? Well, of course, only certain humans were faeries, only a few had it in their blood. Maybe I was the first one. But what triggered it?

Perhaps it was a strong feeling.

What had I been feeling before I'd blacked out? I'd been . . . desperate. No, not desperate, but desperate to help – wishing I was stronger and faster so I could help. Wishing I wasn't human.

Was that it? So you turned into a faerie when you wanted to be more . . . Oh! No, you turned into a faerie when you needed to. It was convenient . . . I'd never detested being human before, not really.

But was being . . . this . . . really helpful? I looked once more down at myself. It didn't look particularly strong. My skin wasn't rock-hard like a vampire's and I wasn't huge like a werewolf. I actually looked more fragile – more, of course, like a faerie.

Faerie. It sounded strange in my head. Even stranger to think of myself as one.

But I didn't feel fragile. I didn't feel weak at all. I felt wonderful. As light as air – even if my heart still seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. I could feel my blood coursing through my body, my entire being tingling with this strange new magic that even I realized was suddenly inside me. The pain of transformation was completely gone now, replaced with a state of bliss so extreme it was surreal.

So if I felt strong, was I? Even if I didn't look it?

Hopefully, I turned to the mirror. If I was as strong as a vampire, then I'd probably – hell, not probably, but definitely – be able to pry it off the wall.

I reached out with my slender, delicate-looking hands and grasped both sides of the mirror. My fingers tightened around it as I tugged with all my might.

Nothing happened.

I pulled harder, my knuckles turning white from the strain and sweat beading my forehead.

Still nothing happened. The mirror, glued to the wall, wouldn't budge. My hands flopped down to my sides, defeated.

A horrible disappointment bloomed in my chest. I wasn't strong. I was still as weak as any human – and I even looked weaker! I probably was.

What was the point of this, then?

But the desire to go and leave this prison, go to see Edward, at least to watch the fight and see if they were alright, was still a powerful ache. Even if I couldn't help, at least I would be able to satisfy my own longing.

Several hours ago, I would have said this was impossible. After all, how would I have been able to hike all the way to the battlefield in the dark – me? Definitely not.

But now, going by myself did not seem like such a bad idea.

After all, I could fly.

At least, I hoped so.

I turned around, opening the door of the bathroom to go back into my room. As I took a step, my foot tripped over thin air and I almost toppled forward. I managed to catch myself before I fell flat on myself.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud, though. Maybe this was the reason I was so unnaturally clumsy, because I'd been meant for the air all along.

I had, apparently, laughed too loudly. I heard Charlie's snoring pause for one moment, then pick up its steady rhythm again.

Charlie.

What was I thinking? By going to the fight I would be leaving Charlie again. And I didn't know how long I would be gone, anyhow. My poor dad had so much to deal with right now, and I had already caused him so many almost-heart attacks. He'd probably crack for good if I disappeared for another three days again.

Charlie or Edward?

It wasn't a difficult answer. The choice was painful, and my heart gave a stutter, but the answer had been there for a long time now. It had existed for a few years now, and it had overruled everything else. Though I loved my dad, the answer was clear. Maybe not for my morals – after all, Charlie was my father – but it was clear for my heart, and that was all that mattered.

Edward. He had always been, and always would be, my choice.

As I made my way to the open window, with the icy air seeping in, I felt even more uncoordinated than usual. But that thought didn't bother me so much anymore – because I knew that I would be so much more graceful up in the air.

Hope you liked it! Nothing really happened, but I think there will be action in the next chapter or the one after. Again, sorry for the long delay. Review and tell me what you think!