Sorry this chapter took forever. I promise to update more quickly. Anyway, we'll be changing perspectives for the rest of the story. After much debate with myself, I decided to give Nahuel a gift. Hope you don't think it's stupid (but you wouldn't do that to poor little 'ol me, right?....right?). Enjoy with the Goodie of the Day: honey drizzled funnel cake.
It's days like this, when the winter fast approaches, when the calls of the birds begin to die away, when the grass and the leaves dry and decay, that I'm reminded how very short life is. I am the irony in this world. I am the exception. I will never wither like this plants, never die of cold or thirst or pain or disease like the deer and the bears; I will never taste death. I try to stop that bitter end in the world around me; I try harder than anything else to bend time, to stretch out the life of the mortal and make it everlasting. It's not easy to do, considering how very fragile the world is in it of itself. The flowers wilt with the coming winter, as they all have now that it is early November; the forest can burn and turn to ash, and the living become the dead so very quickly.
I've come to learn over the years that stone is the closest thing to eternal upon this earth besides me. Like my skin, it withstands the rain and the cold and the heat, it passes through eons without change and without growing weary and tired. Though of course, give it enough millennia, and it too will succumb to erosion. Still, one cannot help but try.
With the small piece of rough granite, I began to carve a blue-jay using the strong diamond chisel I had fashioned years ago. Despite my constant use of it, the tool had hardly shown any sign of loosing its sharp edge. Perhaps one of my sculptures would last longer if it was made of diamond, but the only thing I could think of sharp enough to cut it would be my teeth, a task that wouldn't be easy to accomplish.
The day was cool, and the sun was hidden behind a layer of gray. I frowned at the sight of the distant clouds, suggesting the first snowfall of the year. I hated snow; I much preferred the constant tropical heat of my homeland. Every now and then, much to my own happiness, we would visit the lands of my youth, but rarely; it's quite a journey to South America from Europe with out boats and planes. Most of the time, I made due with the jungles of Southeast Asia, where it was always lush and humid, and life was everywhere.
As I looked down, I already noticed that my carving no longer resembled a blue-jay, but a quetzal, a bird I had not seen in decades. In excitement, I continued to carve away at the stone, molding the long tail feathers, the short beak, the curious eyes, but no matter what I did, it somehow didn't capture the creature's liveliness and grace. I could never capture the liveliness of any creature I tried to mold with my hands. Perhaps, like my own body, things loose their vitality when they are made of stone.
I looked at my creation and felt a pang of disappointment. Yet again, I wasn't able to be fully satisfied with my work. Perhaps it was because the actual image of the bird was not fresh on my mind, hadn't been for a long time. But no, my memory, like other things, was eternal, and never forgot a day, a detail, or a face. Maybe I just didn't posses the talent to capture the true essence of life, not yet anyway.
"Nahuel, we're going hunting! Want to join?" I heard Carlisle called from the house. I was on the other side of the river, but I heard him with no difficulty. I placed the diamond tool in my pocket and discarded the little bird without a second thought.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry, which wasn't nearly as fast as the any of the vampires in my family. If I could be considered ungraceful, it would be by their standards. By comparison, I was always the slowest, the clumsiest. Even Renesmee and Jacob ran with more smoothness than I. I wasn't ever jealous of the other members of my family, per say, but I always did feel like the oddball of the group, and in many ways, I was. To myself and others, I was the outsider. I was the newest to the group, the least established. Most of my life had been spent in the isolated jungles of yesteryear, with my aunt as most of my company. When I decided to join the Cullens, it was safe to say I lacked social skills. They were, and in some ways still are, quite more sophisticated in manner than I, better at speaking and handling situations. Plus, living in the cold, alien climate permanently placed me outside of my comfort zone.
When I had arrived at my house, everyone was already outside waiting for me. They stood about nonchalantly, as they usually carried themselves. It wasn't like we were ever in a hurry to get anywhere.
"We're going to head near the lowlands, where Emmett thinks there's some pretty big bears still out. You game?" Carlisle said. I shrugged a "sure", which was good enough for everyone. The lowlands were still nice, with only minor effects of autumn in the area. Plentiful game still roamed, but it wouldn't be long before the winter would be so cold that almost nothing was around save for snow hares. Lovely. Though the coming winter meant that we, like all of the other vampires, would hunt mostly in Spain, where there was never any danger of lack of food.
Like any other hunt, we always took off running, Edward leading while Renesmee, Jacob and I straggled behind, never quite catching up with them. I didn't mind though; they were a fun pair to run with, in that the actually did things other than run. Jacob would sometimes insist on a game of tag, which, though I always thought childish, I would participate in anyway. Renesmee in her little tricky mind loved to fling something in front of my face, which unfortunately would make me crash promptly into a tree. It never hurt, of course, but it did give me plentiful irritation.
Today, like the past several hunts, they did no such thing. There had been a very melancholy feel over our family lately, a dead coolness like the remains of the crackled leaves on the ground. The approaching winter was always a cause for worry, but it was this particular year that an overcastting mood seemed to settle upon our lives. It was as if the world, in its own mocking way, reminded us of her everyday, as if it were sad that she was gone, as if we had guilt on our hands. We did have guilt staining us, like wine on the white carpet. Even if you cleaned it up as quickly as possible, a faint outline always remained. Not that Christelle was like a wine stain to us, but our culpability over the events which occurred six months prior was. I never forgot that night she spat on my apologies. I always knew she had a feisty temper, but that night, it was as if she wasn't even the same person, like she had evolved into something that only longed to shut away from everyone, including me.
I snapped out of my head. I had been over this so many times. Thinking about the last time I ever saw her, what brought me a short amount of grief, followed by a longer period of self reflection, was now only something that invaded my thoughts every now and then. I no longer worried over Christelle. She had left a permanent impression on me, but had not left me feeling permanently sad over her departure. Her words to me had, briefly, forced me to see my faults, caused many hours lost to overlooking myself. Those days were over, but she still hung there. But in truth, there really was nothing else to hang onto. Christelle was the newest anything to come into our lives in decades, something that instantly caught our attention. In the beginning, I wondered if she would act like a fad to us, something whose glitter and excitement would fade. But, for whatever reason, her presence never faded completely. It always still held a glimmer, as if she had left before her time was up, as if she wasn't finished with what she started on earth.
"Nahuel, are you there?" Renesmee asked waving her hand in front of my face. Sometimes I wondered just how it was that I could so easily space out, how I could, quite simply, fade into my own world, somehow unconscious of what was happening around me. We were already at the topmost ridge, right below where the warmer lowlands lay. They were still blanketed with the watercolors of oranges, reds, and yellows, unlike the stippling of brown in the higher regions. But in a month or so, even these areas will be unpopulated, meaning we will have to search farther for food. It was never that great of a problem; we had lived through this routine countless times, so it was almost second nature, like everything else we did in this monotonous, repetitive lifestyle.
At this point, we would separate, then return once we had found what we had come looking for. To hunt in a group this large all together would scare everything instantly. It was much easier to find prey if it was cornered by us in all directions. I took a deep breath through my nose, absorbing the intoxicating smell of decaying leaves and the wet ground. I breathed in the world, in every particle it contained, as if not a single part of it could ever hide from me. Ahhh, there it was, a mountain lion, about three miles to the north of us. I turned to Edward; he had smelt it too. He smiled that crooked smile as if to say, "Bet you can't beat me too it." I knew I couldn't. Not only was I the slowest of the group, he was the fastest. I gestured for him to take it; there would be something else for me somewhere. I sucked in the air once more, tasting it on my tongue.
In an instant, two unusual things happened. My mouth picked up something burning, though it wasn't the smell of a forest fire. It smelt like the fires of industry, like gasoline, like kerosene. It was faint, barely noticeable, but my senses were heightened for hunting. The instant I could smell the fire, there was an explosion, such a loud short burst of sound that I was sure the earth was going to crack. But it wasn't an earthquake, the ground didn't move, and I had heard that sound before. Everyone else was just as startled as I was. We snapped our heads as fast as our thoughts demanded the action, as if there was no transition of movement. We all came to the same conclusion that the sound was familiar to us, and then, we knew the answer. There was another sound precisely after the boom, the sound of a streaking force, dragging across the air and digging into the wind. We turned our heads up; it was a meteor, a big one, or at least it appeared to be. But we knew that this was no heavenly body disintegrating into the upper atmosphere. Someone else may have drawn to the conclusion, but my mind raced because I knew what it really was: a spaceship. Another human had come to Earth.
I turned to everyone, who looked just as excited as I felt. They knew exactly what it was, too.
"Alice, who's coming here?" Carlisle asked. Alice closed her eyes in concentration, but quickly gave up.
"I don't know," she said. "Today isn't a good day for me." Ever since Jasper had died, her ability to see the future weakened over time. Some days, she could see brief glimpses of various hours in the day, some days she could see nothing at all. She looked so disappointed to not be able to see our visitor, whom I knew she would greet very enthusiastically.
"Well screw hunting," Emmett said. "I'm going to follow that ship." I smiled in agreement, as did the others. We mostly hunted casually, not waiting for the uncomfortable to burn to appear as we used to; this hunt could wait a day or two. With eagerness strongly flowing through us, we hurried to follow the ship. Even though its brief blaze as it entered orbit ended, we could still follow the burning smell, and our eyes could barely see the outlying trace of the ship in the sky. It was coated with a strange metal that made it almost invisible if you didn't know you were looking for it. We paused often to assess its path of direction. It seemed to be heading directly south, towards our home. We ran ever faster, hoping to catch up with the ship before it landed. I was ecstatic; another face was soon to come, another creature to break the endless streak of sameness. This time, unlike with Christelle, we would not be caught off guard and forced to be the most cautious of house guests. We were better prepared, the smell of human blood far fresher on our minds (though not as well as it could have been).
The points of stopping between burst of sprinting grew farther apart in time. We already had a very good assessment of where exactly this ship was going, which only made us want to run ever faster. I noticed after a while that I had reached my speed limit, though the others could run much faster. I was utterly frustrated, but no matter how much my mind screamed at my legs, I couldn't beg them to replace their steps any further. The rest of them, even Renesmee, whom Jacob was dragging away ever faster, began to separate from me ever so slowly. I didn't want to call for them to slow down; that would be utterly whiny and pathetic of me.
I was suddenly struck with a very real possibility: Christelle. But no, she most definitely made it clear that she never wanted to come back, that she never wanted to see my face as long as she was still breathing. I shook the thought out my head. It didn't matter who it was in the ship, it shouldn't matter to me.
In the soft, fading distance, when I could hear past the blowing air in my ears, I could hear the ship dock down, its sound growing louder; we were growing closer. By now, though, the rest of my family was about fifty yards ahead of me, and by the time we reached the ship, they would be there a hundred yards ahead of me. Dammit.
For a brief second, I considered the fact that no one came up with anything to say to occupant of the ship. How should we account for ourselves? Should we tell the person immediately who we really are? Should we let them draw their own conclusions? Or should we tell them that it wasn't safe here, and that they should leave, forgetting all they were to see? I pondered, and decided that I would do whatever my family was doing. They would reach the ship ahead of me anyway, perhaps already greeting the human. If they approached him slowly, I would as well. If they stayed in the shadows, I would follow suit, although it was overcast; we wouldn't half to worry about our alien skins to him until the sun broke through, which according to Alice, wouldn't happen any time soon.
They stopped ahead, staying in the hidden protection of the undergrowth; it would be impossible to see us from the ship. I slowed, tip-toeing to them without disturbing a single leaf beneath my feet. They were peering out at the spectacle. Reaching directly behind Alice, I was able to see what we had come for. It was a ship, just like the one before. It was small and round, like a large oval seed made of a strange metal. Though I could clearly see the silvery outline of the fine silvery alloy, it was also translucent at the same time, as if it absorbed color instead of bouncing off of it, acting like a form of catalogue. It was supported by five strong legs, which landed softly upon the grass. There was only a dim hum coming from the engine, not the fiery blasts of the much older models. There was only one tiny window, but from where I was standing, I could not see inside.
The humming slowed, and then stopped, leaving the forest as quiet as before. No bird was to be heard, no other sound but the wind rustling what was left of the pathetic dried leaves on the vacant branches. There a soft hiss, barely above a whisper, though my ears easily detected it. The door to the ship began to open upward. A small ramp grew out of the side of the ship, and a human began to walk down the pathway.
It's funny; I was so sure that Christelle was different from anyone I had ever met, that she was somehow special and important. In fact, I knew she wasn't like anyone I'd ever met. There was no one, human, vampire or what have you that I'd ever met that didn't strike me like her. With anyone I ever encounter, I instantly know how they would favor with me, whether we would be friends or enemies, and sometimes even their overall effect on my very life. I always thought it was intuition, but Carlisle always thought it as something more. I can't adequately describe it, but it's as if I look past everyone's bull and see who they really are.
When I first saw Christelle, before I even heard her voice, that gut feeling of mine pounded my insides as if I was hit with a train. I saw before me someone that I, somehow, instantly knew would change my life for the better. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but in a way that would change who I was at my core. As if seeing the future, I knew we would never separate, but whether as the closest of friends of the dearest of lovers, I didn't know.
When I saw her face again, as she descended into the bitterly cold November air, my gut grew more certain of her than ever before. The future, in its own special way, flashed before me. Whatever she left unfinished when she left, she wouldn't keep undone. I knew, just by looking at her, that she would be pleasant and generally cheerful, a gracious guest. But I could also see that she was hiding a very deep grief, one that I wasn't sure if I wanted to tread upon. All would go well today, only, she'll be very cautious around us, especially me. But the thing that I could see most was how the story of her return to Earth would end; it would be the happiest day of our lives, but also the worst. It will be the beginning and the ultimatum. The only problem with this supposed "gift" as Carlisle calls it is that I can't see how to get from point A to point B; I couldn't see how we would get to the point of being inseparable, only that, by some unknown force of nature, I knew it was the end result. Did it even matter? I often asked myself that whenever I saw anyone's face: does it even matter? If a day is to end with a fight with one of my friends, do I avoid them? I've learned that the answer is no; I can't let some silly "intuition" ruin the course of my life. And though I could also see that she will at some point hate me with a hatred that destroys both of our souls, I could also see that I will be blessed by the very best kind of forgiveness. So did it matter?
I threw that thought out the window as I walked out of the shadows to greet her.