Chapter 6 – Absence Strengthens
The river voyage was enough to sweep clear my mind. The drift was full of nature's sounds, visibly unlike anything I could ever imagine in what little research I had done prior to departure. The temperature was warm, humidity making it seem hotter than the eighty degrees it actually was.
I clutched the Spanish-English dictionary, a weapon against uncertainty. Away from my native diction, I realized the importance of communication, of understanding. With humans, I couldn't just show them what I needed them to see. Thankfully, as per Grandfather's instruction, I browsed through the book during flight. As I listened to the tall, dark tour guide speaking of historic landmarks, the words on the printed pages clicked in my head. Their letters formed into sound, and as if a light had erupted in my brain, I understood the new language. Fascinated by the roll of the r's and the exotic accent, I paid little attention to the meaning behind the words, once I realized what they meant.
The beautiful hum of his voice was diminished when translated by the small, blonde woman at his side. Her tone annoyed me; it was upbeat and chirpy, conflicting with the import of the words. It was easy to tell who understood the guide and who required the aid of the interpreter, their eyes following the one they were waiting to hear speak. The interaction ground on my nerves, and I hoped all humans wouldn't prove to be so predictable. Moving to the back of the boat to avoid binding the blonde's lips together with my shoelaces, I sat on a wooden bench, letting the view entice me once more.
A middle-aged woman broke away from the group to speak to me. Somewhere under the layers of wrinkled skin, she was sort of pretty. She motioned to a tube of something in her left hand, insisting I put it on. The thick, liquid cream felt cool upon my skin. Sunscreen. She thought I was going to get sunburned. Cute. Even strangers were trying to take care of me. Did my aura really exude true helplessness?
Smile and nod. Say thank you. Do something human.
"Gracias," I whispered, the simple word of thanks rolling perfectly off my tongue.
"De nada," she replied hesitantly.
She returned to the group very quickly, as though frightened by my song-like voice. I couldn't say I really blamed her; I'd just gotten used to it myself. It had a unique tone, not chirpy like the too-peppy blonde, nor intense like the story-telling guide next to her. My voice was more like a slow-moving breeze in the August heat, caressing objects in its path, impossible not to feel or appreciate.
My skin was pale white compared to the deeply tanned tourists gathered around the guide -ghostly even. Some were naturally dark while others suffered ultraviolet effects. There were no more than fifteen of us. No, not us; I didn't really fit in with the group. There was them and there was me. They were on a holiday, vacationing from their tedious, routine-driven lives. My personal journey held more impact than a summer rendezvous.
Just relax. Enjoy yourself. Stop being cranky.
Was I capable of relaxation? Had I ever tried to let everything go and marvel in my surroundings without compulsively over-analyzing every detail? No. To me, every sight I saw, every sound I heard, and every emotion I felt was a step toward something greater.
Putting the dictionary back in my pack, I pulled out the journal, thinking it appropriate to begin my adventure's mark with pen on paper. If I could get the work out of the way, then maybe I could take my own advice. Maybe I could enjoy my existence in a simpler way, peace replacing obsessive compulsive disorder.
September 19th – Around me rest the wonders of a world I cannot begin to describe. This documentation marks the beginning of an adventure of self and discovery. I do hope it will help me gain insight to my nature and purpose. I will strive to learn something new daily and to make memory by way of words in this book. Daily Lesson – Humidity labors breathing. Labored breathing increases hunger. Functions deemed normal, even trivial matters such as air intake, affect the blood running through my veins. If primarily inactive, less feeding is required. Will test my restraint versus the vampires to see if they struggle as well.
I cringed at the last sentence. I knew this would be a moral dilemma for me. Their crimson eyes were vivid in my memory. They were not like my family, feeding from animals. They drank from humans, killed for blood. While they would aid me in my own feeding methods, they wouldn't change their own to abate my personal unease. I wasn't here to make a permanent impression and to move toward a campaign to change them. I ventured to South America to gain knowledge about myself, not to take what I already knew and force it onto someone else. Their actions shouldn't have any impact on my discovery process, but would I be able to turn a blind eye? Surely, they wouldn't do anything rash in my direct presence, and I was free to leave at any time. I would simply avoid speaking of their choice, deflecting confrontation.
I could see the breaks in the levels of the forest, eyes attuned to the lines that separated the layers. The Emergent layer, the closest to the sky, exposed trees that easily reached two hundred feet in height. They reminded me of the long, lean forms of the Amazons, stretching to reach the light. The forest floor was dark, the sun unable to penetrate the barrier. It was easy to understand how they could live without attracting attention. The beams from above couldn't touch them. The animals below didn't stand a chance against them.
There were no bridges or roads for traffic to venture. Generally speaking, the 1.7 billion acres of rainforest were uninhabitable. We passed small villages along the way, completely void of typical civilization. There were no vehicles, no hum from electrical lines. If not for the low sound of the boat motor or the quiet echoes of creatures, the picturesque scene would have boasted complete tranquility.
I briefly listened to the history of the tribes, resting my arm along the boat's side. His talk of predators stirred my interest. While the others felt threatened, I made a mental shopping list in my mind. Sensing their accelerated heart rates, my hunger grew. My throat ached from the humidity, the liquid air stealing away my inner reserve, and I decided against rejoining them to better hear him speak. I was about to flunk my will's test miserably. Having to keep my body cool was using up more of my blood supply than I anticipated, and I hoped to join Zafrina soon - before I gave a new, tale-telling man a more exciting story to share with future travelers.
I could pick them off easily, one by one, before they had the chance to escape. The blonde would be first. If they managed to flee, where would they go? The crocodiles swimming beside us were already lingering too close in hopes that someone would fall overboard, providing them a reward for their patient waiting. If any survivors managed to make it to shore, where would they run? The sleek felines hiding in the trees had hopes of their own. I could hear their rumbling purrs, the jaguars' tongues licking gums in anticipation. He'd forgotten to mention the deadliest predator of all: the half-vampire, half-human sitting starved at the back of the boat, focusing every last ounce of energy into self-restraint.
As evening advanced, the temperature easily dropped fifteen degrees, strengthening my refrain. It wasn't, nor did I get, cold. The rapid drumming of my heart produced its own internal sauna. While the tropical climate was hotter than I was used to, it wasn't the warmth that disturbed me; it was the thick, obstructive oxygen. Breathing was difficult, the thick moist air sticking to my lungs. It would take some time to adjust my breathing. My lungs felt wet, like I had stuck my head into the river to escape from the enticing smell in front of me. My damp hair left me wondering if I'd truly done that or if it was my imagination.
She stood by the river's edge, waving the captain toward her. The boat moved close enough to deposit me. Several of the tourists gave curious glances as I further proved my disassociation. Standing next to Zafrina, my five foot seven inch form felt miniature. Her shifty movements had the boat breaking free before I could step my feet solidly on the ground. Wicked whispers followed their departure, and I dared them a dirty look, each ill-speaker quickly looking away, careful not to meet my gaze. What did I look like to them? How quickly the helpless victim shifted roles from meek to monster.
A moment passed while I placed a new image of Zafrina in my mind, replacing the old. She was of the jungle, a part of it. Her limbs were stretched beyond comfort, arms, legs, and fingers of limitless length. Even her facial features were elongated, as though someone had taken hold of her long, dark hair and the bottom of her feet and pulled her from opposite ends.
At her side was Senna, who moved with the same cat-like reflexes as Zafrina. They were similar in all but speech. Senna rarely spoke, but was the director of movement. They were linked, as though Senna operated the body while Zafrina controlled the mind.
One grand change was present: their eyes. My face lit up in excitement, wondering if they would find it rude of me to mention.
"Finally, you have come to see us," Zafrina said, pleased.
"As promised," I returned, staring too closely at the change.
"A difference," she announced. "Of course, you would remember."
I blushed, wondering whether the sweat dripping down the small of my back was from embarrassment or the heat. Liquid gold peered down at me from aged vegetarian irises. Our different feeding preferences wouldn't get in the way, after all. There was no intention to force conversion, but there was always hope that our nature would rub off on other vampires. It pleasantly surprised me that Zafrina could evolve. Her Amazonian coven was much less sophisticated than any I had encountered. Her mannerisms and attire still showed a primitive being, but her eyes held another truth. Their honey glow welcomed me, and I couldn't have been more delighted. If they could grow, find another way to live, maybe there was hope for other vampires as well.
"Come," she commanded. "We must make way to the camp, and the travel is long."
I put the pack on my shoulders, picking up the case and preparing to move. They would progress quickly, and I didn't want to hold them back any more than necessary. My throat burned, and I hoped it wouldn't be too long before we made it to their camp. I was hungry enough to eat human food, but I didn't want to show weakness by mentioning it.
"You will feed along the way," Zafrina joked. "You will eat more here. The hot air makes you hungrier."
I crinkled my nose and decided that everyone was a mind reader but me. Were my movements and thoughts so easily displayed in my expressions? Did my eyes tell truths I didn't dare speak from my lips?
As we moved into the thick undergrowth at the forest floor, Senna stayed a step ahead of Zafrina, guiding us through. We paused a time or two to marvel over nature's gifts: waterfalls and pools of glistening liquid that invited wildlife. We fed on monkeys, which were readily available. She promised me future days would hold more exciting prey, but the monkeys were enough to get us through the journey. Strange, they tasted somewhat similar to human blood, more similar than even meat-eating predators. I was glad there was such an overabundance of them to pick from, because they weren't very filling.
My steps slowed when I caught a different scent to my left. The thumping of the heart was loud in comparison to the tree-climbers', and I instinctively dropped my suitcase. I was nearly through the trees when Zafrina's strong grip grabbed hold of my backpack. The abrupt halt ripped the straps, the sound of it dropping to the ground breaking me free from the hunt.
"Not that one," she warned.
Confused, I stopped to listen closer. It was more than one heartbeat I heard. There was one larger thump, and about ten separate, smaller thumps pounding sporadically. My hunger subsided instantly, realizing that the feline was with child. Of course, reproduction promised continued existence of the species, a food supply for the future. I knew this, was told this before, but had never witnessed the glory firsthand.
Protectively, the mother let out an unnatural hiss, and I backed away from the overgrown cat. I thought of Mom, knowing death was inevitable and still risking everything to protect the child growing inside her. Neither she nor the cat seemed aware of how easily I could have killed them.
"Nature's balance," Zafrina explained. "And the Ocelot is endangered."
They were much more polished than they had been seven years ago. They dressed the same, with their animal skin clothing and leather bound braids, but their general demeanor and knowledge was more refined. Someone had been teaching them. I wondered what other differences I would find.
What more would I learn? Already I had made some distinct discoveries in behavior. Every second that ticked by reconfirmed the decision I made to come, to expand. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was doing something right, part of some bigger picture. While not ready to be team captain, I was in the game instead of sitting on the bench to warm it.
We had traveled for at least fifty miles when we came to a break in the trees. The silence was eerie, but then again, animals had a tendency to avoid threat. It was absolutely void of light and sound. If not for my own breathing, I would have felt lost, dead. Alarmed by my hitched gasps, Zafrina acted. It was as though a light switch had been turned on. I could see the campsite clearly as I might on the brightest day.
"Thank you," I said, making note of the area through Zafrina's vision.
"You will sleep," she said. "We will train tomorrow. Energy is needed."
"Train?" I asked.
Her high-pitched laughed echoed through the trees and into the night sky.
"What else?" she asked, motioning to the canopy bed they had erected for me in the trees.
"I thought…" My voice trailed off, embarrassed that I really hadn't thought to make any plans.
I knew the desired result, but I never really sat down and outlined how I planned to accomplish my enlightenment task. I had no idea what needed to happen, what I needed to know, or how I needed to proceed. In my haste to seek blessings, my quickness to run away from everything close to me, I forgot to formulate procedures for how to achieve my goals.
I thought of Jacob and wished for a fraction of his tactical insight. I wished for Alice and the future she saw so clearly for all but me; for Jasper, who would ease the growing worry. I envied Rosalie, who had no depth beyond her beauty; for Emmett, who never thought beyond the now. I thought of Grandfather, who would want nothing more than to know every detail of my travel; for Grandmother, who would be pleased to know I was thinking of them. More than all, I wanted my Mom and Dad, whom I had never spent a night away from. A single tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. I stubbornly promised myself it would be the last time I shed a tear for the sheltered life I left behind.
"You will sleep now," Zafrina whispered, ushering me to the hammock. "It will come together. You will see."
With that, she shut the light off from her vision and left me in the darkness. I was tired. The drain of travel stretched through my bones, and I needed a good night's sleep. In the cool black air, I felt my breathing finally come in natural rhythms, sucking in the moist air as though I was born of the water, no longer drowning. My education had already begun; there was no denying it. In the heart of the Amazon rainforest, progressive advancement forward began instantly. My teachers, while simplistic in nature, would build my core. They were my basics. They were the roots that would solidify what I was, what I could do.
#
Zafrina wasn't exaggerating about the training. While Senna continued silence, she was never more than a few feet away. Kachiri, the third in their coven, remained close as well. She wasn't as tightly bound as the other two, but their general characteristics made me curious as to their connection before their change. She looked the same, except that she was slightly more muscular than the others. She was equally quiet, and often left the group, sometimes for extended periods.
During one of her absences, I decided to break from practice long enough to ask about her. "Where does she disappear to?"
Zafrina laughed lightly before explaining, "She has a gift too."
"What kind of a gift?"
My curiosity ran fully, not having realized another of the Amazon Coven was talented beyond normal vampiric abilities. It made me question whether or not enhanced magic was truly a rarity. Surrounded by a largely exceptional group of vampires, I decided more were talented than were not. In some way, they all held their own alchemy – some were just more advanced than others.
"She is something of a tracker," Zafrina continued.
While she always answered my every question, her responses were consistently vague. I felt like she was forcing me to communicate, making me manipulate her into explanations. I was used to complete recounts, answers that didn't lead to more questions. Was the continued conversation a way of teaching me to speak, to use my voice? It was impossible to tell her intentions. She never made them readily known. Every act, every lesson, was part of a grander scheme.
As not to disappoint, I persisted, "What does she track?"
"Your kind," she answered, lips curving into a smirk.
"My kind?"
I considered that for a moment. My kind. Did I have a kind? From what I understood, there wasn't even a handful of us. A fluke of fate, or so I thought, had allowed Alice to find someone else like me, the truth that saved my life when the Volturi came to punish my family for my existence. My first impression of Kachiri's purpose was that Alice had used her to venture onward through South America, guiding her through the blind spots. Obviously, she served dually. She gave territorial direction, and led Alice to Nahuel, another hybrid.
"As with all trackers, she is pulled toward what she seeks," Zafrina said, sorrow in her voice.
"And she seeks half-breeds?" I replied, understanding the concept but not the sadness.
"Yes."
I wanted to reach out and take away her emotion. It pained me to see her upset, but I knew she wouldn't be willing to explain the cause. It wasn't something that invited conversation. Some things were meant to be private. Her limits were clearly visible, and I made a valiant effort not to cross them.
What seemed to give her the most joy was my training, so I redirected back to that. She helped me fine-tune my gift, teaching me to be selective about the information shared. She showed me how to summarize things, to expedite understanding. Instead of replaying an entire event, I could take bits and pieces of it and share those instead.
The lessons were exhausting, and I wondered how she got through the monotony of seeing the same visions recounted to her over and over. She never complained and delighted in my advancement, as proud as I was over my accomplishments.
To reward me for my hard work, she would sit with me before sleep, taking me to any destination I requested. The pictures she gave me were solid, tangible. It felt as though I literally was wherever we "vacationed". We visited Egypt, Ireland, Hawaii - anywhere exotic and deemed by mortals as holiday-worthy. It was an amazing compensation to have her share that with me. The prospect of continuation gave me strength to further my education.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" I asked smartly, wondering if there was anything left to teach me.
"Today, we give smaller," she responded.
"I can already show you fragments," I argued. "I thought we already covered summaries."
"You won't be bored," she countered. "You are still too open, like a book."
She was right, and of course I shouldn't have argued. I did show too much in my visions and expressions. I didn't have the restraint she had, the composure, or the ability to limit the information I fed to others. While I could paraphrase my daydreams, there was no alteration of truth, no manipulation of outcome in the story I shared. Did I want to be able to mislead? Wouldn't that diminish the importance of what I could do?
"I'd rather not learn how to lie, thanks," I admitted.
"You misunderstand," Zafrina retorted. "To silence something that is yours is not a lie."
I considered the importance in that. I didn't keep anything to myself. My happiness, my sadness, my thoughts, and my memories - I shared them all freely. I was an open book, expressions clearly stating how I felt. I was open like Mom, but without her shield to stop unwanted intrusion. I was a danger to myself. Hadn't I always wanted a little privacy?
We started the training, Zafrina encouraging me to expel my thoughts, carefully holding my palm against hers. Training required contact. Her offensive ability was something she could move past the bounds of her body, but my gift required touch. There was no way to push it from my form. A prerequisite physical connection was my only limitation. Nothing she or I tried allowed me to force it outside of me.
I fed memories into her, trivial things I hadn't shared before. I broke events into fragments, like I was showing still photos instead of movie reels. The focus brought sweat beads to my forehead.
"Now take one back," she directed.
"Like an image?" I said, closing my eyes to maintain concentration. "You want me to take one back?"
"Yes!" she ordered.
"No," I said, shaking lightly. "I can't. I promised."
When I tried to pull my hand away, she kept it firmly against hers. The pressure from her grip made cracking sounds in my knuckles. Nothing was broken, but the bones were grinding against one another. I couldn't do as she asked. I had promised Dad I wouldn't use my gift to take from others. Training or not, he wouldn't accept this sort of learning. Command or not, I could not do as she asked, no matter how much the prospect tempted me, no matter how painful the grip was on my hand.
"Renesmee," she whispered, calming her tone to something less frightening. "There is much difference between taking something that is not yours and keeping what is yours."
I continued streaming the images, afraid if I stopped, she might go ahead and snap all the bones in my hand. Considering her words, I found the truth in them. What I had promised to, and why I had agreed to the promise, involved me taking memories from someone else, removing them, and locking them inside my mind. I had no right to do that. What Zafrina was demanding was different. She was trying to get me to take my own directed thoughts, to pick and choose from what was there. She wanted me to pull back things that already belonged to me. I wasn't taking things from them that were not mine. I was securing what I already owned, protecting it. I was preventing the leak of too much information, a clean sweep of knowledge given too freely. I trusted too easily, and in order to expand my safety zone, I needed to be aware of the danger so I could be prepared for it.
Through the channel formed between our linked minds, I tried to put pictures in and pull pictures out, randomly choosing what to show and what to keep inside, what to give and what to retract. She asked questions out loud that I would answer, proving the task's effectiveness. It was very tiring.
Using magic drained me in an unusual way. Because of her patience, her desire to aid, I was able to not only control what I gave, but I could also pull back anything that slipped through. I could overcome my personal limitations without giving up one of the best parts of myself - my charisma. It wouldn't work with Dad, because I couldn't project my gift outside my body. Would it work with someone like Aro?
Aro was a Volturi leader, their spokesman. His ability allowed him to see everything in someone's mind with a single touch. No one but Mom kept secrets from him. Could I? Could I use my power to mask what he took from me? Could I protect my mind from him like Mom? If it was possible, it would be far more effective than merely guarding. Her mind was private, no one able to break through her great shield. It was impenetrable by magical means. While protected, her mind's silence caused suspicion. When nothing was seen, speculations were made. Assumptions cloud intent. My mind was not blocked, would not cause conjecture, but I could still pick and choose what he saw, controlling the flow into him without his knowledge. The idea made me feel powerful; made me want to stand in the light for long enough to bask in the glorious beams.
Zafrina moved her hand, brushing it along the side of her animal skin pants. It was covered in the dampness of my focus. She smiled, a terrifying grin that shook my insides.
"Go to the falls and get clean," she directed me. "You have company coming."
"Who?" I asked, almost lethargic from the effort of the lesson.
"You will see," she replied, moving off into the forest with Senna at her side.
With her strange departure, she left me sitting on the forest floor. Growling lowly, I pulled my uncooperative body to a standing position. I did need to get cleaned up. The days and nights were all running together, and time held no mark for me. I wasn't sure what the date was, what the hour was, or how long I had been in the Amazonian rainforest. There was a vague difference between night and day; the sun was never able to penetrate the thick layers to the ground. How long had I been there?
The rain, which fell at least once a day, left decent bathing puddles. She expected something more. Was I really such a mess? Not far from camp was a small pool of water that provided a better bathing potential. Above the pool, a stream trailed along the ground, falling over the cliff's side, a waterfall shower. The cool liquid rained down and drained away the grime. It refreshed and exhilarated me, washing away invisible weights. I had neglected personal hygiene. The reflective surface showed the sad truth, a wild animal staring back at me. Laughing, I wondered if my parents would find it funny that they'd tricked me into school. Would they see the humor in how I flunked the basic health course?
The weight of my wet, bronze ringlets pulled them past my waist. I groaned, trying to twist them, freeing some of the excess water from their treacherous grasp. Back at the camp, I pulled a pair of recently dried shorts from the clothesline I erected for convenience purposes. Shaking away the stiffness, I hauled them on. I chose a dark-colored tank top, the navy masking the stains the lighter ones were covered in. I missed laundry soap, hand soap, and any and all kinds of soap.
Crawling into my canopy bed, I tried to imagine who was coming to see us. Maybe Kachiri was bringing company. She was a key element in their educational gain. Her return would bring with it new reasoning and understanding, which she passed along to the others. The remaining two never left the confines of the thickly wooded area, never venturing out into a world they did not belong in. I wasn't lonely, nor particularly missing the modernized means of comfort. I wasn't bored, nor was I tired of my present company. However, having a fresh face to add to my memories appealed to me.
Journal writing was routine, and I'd nearly filled the pages in one notebook. My words were curt, trying to minimize the amount of emotion I felt for the strengthening in my talent. Objectivity was difficult, trying to make things practical as a researcher would, keeping personal opinions minimal. To archive meant avoiding speculations, recounting only facts. I hoped Grandfather would approve.
The more I missed the people I loved, the easier it became to focus my powers. Absence made my heart grow fonder and my abilities stronger. Heightened emotions enhanced the magnitude of my craft. This became the tag line for my journal entry, the lesson marking the completion of the first book. There were no more pages to print on, and ironically, the closure coincided with the completion of studies into what I could do.
A question had been answered for me, a closure to a pivotal curiosity. I knew what I was capable of, no longer plagued by wonder. The extent of my gift was thoroughly explored, and I was able to control it. In gaining this insight, I also learned how to regulate myself. No longer did fluctuations in emotions cause embarrassing outbursts. Jasper would be both proud and disappointed. Learning to control my gift meant learning to control myself.
I needed to know three important things to feel whole and to make my emotional journey a successful one. Who was I? What could I do? What was my purpose? Feeling content in the answer to question two, I snuggled into the canopy.
I opened the leather binding, committed to giving Volume One a title. I had left a page blank in preparation. Insight into Power. A little below this marking, I added another line: Absence Strengthens Emotions Strengthens Abilities – Dedicated to my family, who without their supportive distance, realizations would be impossible.
The binding closed in sync with my eyes. I blissfully floated into the dreamless drift of exhaustion.