A/N: Hello peoples! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my work – you make me smile and provide essential motivation. It's like literacy breakfast. Sorry if there are lots of grammatical errors in this chapter. Me and my dad have had a few drinks. I'm barely tipsy, but my concentration is ebbing. We were joking about quite a few things as well, so I was laughing hysterically whilst writing the last half of this. I know there's no reason to tell you this, but… meh. (I love that word.) Enjoy!

EPOV

The shadows were pressing in on me. I couldn't understand it. Why was it so black? Where was I? Everything felt heavy—heavy and claustrophobic. I couldn't move, I couldn't see, and I couldn't feel. Was this death, then? Had I fallen into oblivion? I tried to press my eyes shut, but I couldn't feel my lids to close them in the first place.

And then I heard a familiar voice calling to me through the darkness.

"Edward," it said softly, "darling, are you listening?"

Suddenly, my vision cleared, the golden light of the room illuminating the scene around me, as I stared into a pair of lovely eyes, green like lagoon waters. They were gazing at me expectantly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What do you think?" my mother asked in a murmur, her voice tinted with intrigue.

"About what?" I questioned, tediously scanning the ballroom from left to right, taking in the couples twirling gracefully at its centre. The hall was filled the dozens upon dozens of elegant young debutantes and socialites, all hoping to find an accomplished, wealthy bachelor to attach themselves to.

"About Miss Addington. Surely you haven't forgotten her already."

"Addington… as in Julia Addington?"

"Yes," my mother smiled in relief, "that's her—over there."

She nodded towards a group of girls, each of whom were clothed in white dresses of lace and silk—the usual satin ribbon adorning their waists. Amongst them, I distinguished the girl my mother was referring to. All in all, she had a very pretty face; it had certainly lost that childish roundness since the last time I had looked upon it, the cheekbones now prominent beneath the pair of baby-blues.

The Addingtons had been neighbours to my father, my mother, and me for the last eight years. I had never really paid their daughter much interest during my childhood. The reason for that hadn't been the two year age gap, but her voice. It had irritated me beyond belief, not because of the sound—in all honesty, it had had a very nice tone to it—but because she had used it to talk about the most maddening topics. I remembered encountering her one day on a trip to the park with my mother. She had been with hers, too, and whilst the adults had engaged in their conversation, she had prattled on about her nanny—'the help', as she preferred to refer to her as— speaking of the woman as if she was an imbecile.

Naturally, I had never warmed to Julia Addington, so I hadn't been put out when she had gone off to school to perfect her manners and prepare herself for married life.

She smiled sweetly from across the room, waving gently after catching sight of me and my parents.

"Doesn't she look lovely, Edward?" my mother smiled.

"She looks nice," I nodded, hoping that I wouldn't be forced to talk to the girl. I felt ashamed—she'd probably grown into a charming young lady, but my gut told me otherwise.

"Oh, look, she's coming over."

How wonderful.

I knew my mother wanted nothing more than for me to find a reason to stay in Chicago—someone or something that would avert my thoughts from the war in Europe, the promise of glory waiting beyond the boundaries of the superficial bourgeois society. The possibility that that could be Miss Addington only served in fuelling my mother's enthusiasm.

"Mr and Mrs Masen," Julia said, using the pretence of greeting my parents to get close to me, "how lovely to see you."

"It's a pleasure to see you, too, Julia," my father smiled. "How was school?"

"Instructive."

That's kind of implied with the name.

"I find myself hungry for cultural experience… "

Shopping trips with mother.

"Art… "

Shoes and dresses.

"Architecture…"

My future husband's estate.

"Those kind of things."

"That's only to be expected," my mother agreed.

I frowned—was I the only one not buying this?

"And how have you been, Edward?" Julia asked, her eyes landing on me. The pout she wore was subtle—some may even have gone as far to call it alluring. I wondered how much it had cost her.

"Aren't you going to ask Julia to dance, Edward?" my father asked, before leading my mother out onto the floor for the waltz.

"Well, Edward," she smiled, "are you going to ask me, or do youintend on ignoring me all night?"

Her question made me feel the total opposite of a gentleman. I was being rude.

And so I held out my hand, waiting for her to offer me her own, before I led her to the centre of the room, where we joined the other twirling couples. The second it started I wanted it to be over. Every time Julia opened her mouth to inform me how completely she had change since our last meeting, I found myself searching for the subtext—the true meaning behind her words.

I tried to seem cheerful and interested in the ensuing minutes, but the longer we danced, the more I felt like I was missing something vital… something I needed to remember.

And that was when I saw her.

She was standing in the shadows at the edge of the room, walking slowly around the perimeter, dressed entirely in black. Unlike the other ladies, who all seemed to have arranged their hair into tidy styles to meet the current fashion, the mystery girl's thick, mahogany hair was straight and unpinned, though full of body as it fell to her waist. The way the front and sides swept back gave her the appearance of someone who had spent the day standing in a gale.

The dark dress flowed over the contours of her body until it reached her waist, where it loosened to form a fluid skirt that touched the floor. The thin material looked like some kind of silk-satin hybrid; it had a metallic quality about it, yet moved like liquid as she walked. It was full sleeved, the fitted fabric fanning out just above the wrists to form thick, folded cuffs. And yet, for all that, the entire thing was completely unadorned: no fastenings or ribbons; no brooches; no patterns of any kind. It was simple in all the right ways.

My eyes travelled to her face, but I was denied the pleasure of seeing it in full, for the girl had hidden it behind a hand-held Venetian-style mask. The only parts completely unobscured were her blood-red lips, the upper one a little too full to match the lower.

I had never seen a sight more beautiful or inviting in my entire life. Every time the dance required a change of direction, my head turned to follow her, afraid that she would disappear if I looked away.

"Edward," Julia said, reminding me of her presence, "what are you looking at?"

In my periphery, I saw her following my line of sight, focusing in on the stunning creature who had captured my heart so thoroughly.

"Oh," she uttered, the word infused with disgust, "her."

"Who is she?" I asked immediately, desperate for answers.

"She's a witch," Julia spat. "She weaves her magic to make men fall in love with her."

"Perhaps it has nothing to do with magic," I murmured automatically, as if in a trance. "Maybe it just because she's extraordinarily beautiful."

The second my words were out, Julia pulled me to a stop, her eyes burning with fury as she shifted her focus from the enchantress back to me. Then, without saying a word, she stomped away from me, back towards her equally self-important friends. I barely gave her a second's thought as I walked in the direction of the girl.

She watched me approach from behind her mask, all the while wearing an expression that was slightly amused, yet hinted at some deeper emotion. I only stopped when a foot or so separated us.

She didn't speak; nor did I—not because I was afraid or couldn't think of anything to say, but because I didn't feel the need to do so. Whatever it was that was happening—the strange electric current that seemed to be alternating back and forth between our bodies—it felt natural… normal, and I certainly didn't want to spoil it by filling the air with needless talk.

I slowly reached for her hand, sliding my fingers over it until it was encased by my own, before I gently forced her arm to lower, unmasking her face so that I could see it in all its glory.

Her dark eyes were bewitching—two unfathomable depths of rich chocolate-brown, framed by long, dark lashes. They were striking against her porcelain skin and lips. Everything about her was striking.

Then, just as I was about to ask her her name, she brought from behind her back a shiny red apple, lifting it upwards until it was level with her neckline.

"Are you tempted?" she asked mysteriously.

I looked from her face to the fruit, and began tracing my eyes along its curves, taking in its rich, mouth-watering colour whilst I pondered her question. I could imagine how it would taste, and I realised that I wanted nothing more than to tear through the membrane—to be the one to take the first bite.

"Yes," I answered simply, my voice rough with desire.

The girl gave a victorious smile, before raising the apple to my mouth, waiting for me to make the next move. I lowered my head, licking my lips in anticipation, and just as I was about to force my teeth through the skin, an almighty crash from above demanded my attention.

My head snapped upwards—eyes fixed to the ceiling, where the large glass dome was shattering into a thousand pieces as a figure clad in black descended through the air. The people filling the room didn't seem to notice, even as the shards rained down upon them. It was like they were living on a separate plain, existing alongside another which only I seemed aware of.

I quickly realised that the man wasn't falling, but was lowering himself on a wire, slowing as he neared the ground. A full bodysuit covered his bulky, muscular frame: only his icy, blue eyes and the thin strip of skin surrounding them were visible. Even his hair and mouth were covered.

"Where did he go?" he demanded, his gaze landing on me.

"Where did who go?"

"The Red Warrior! I know he came through here. I can't lose him!"

I was completely baffled by the strange man's words. I'd never heard of this Red Warrior, but he certainly sounded dangerous.

"He has an accomplice," he continued, "named the Green Warrior."

"What do they look like?"

"I think they're Italian. They both have thick black moustaches and big noses. The Green Warrior is the taller of the two, and wears a hat bearing the letter L, which stands for Lord, because his true name is Lord Green. The other wears a hat bearing the letter M, for he is Master Red."

There was only one explanation for all of this, I suddenly realised—either the stranger was insane… or I was.

I turned to face the girl, ready to ask her whether or not she was seeing and hearing the same crazy things as me, but when I looked she had vanished entirely.

"Where did she go?" I asked, spinning back to the ninja. I jumped upon noticing that his eyes had disappeared, but then I realised they were just masked by a pair of night vision goggles, which was exceedingly strange considering that it was 1918 and we were inside a brightly lit room.

"Over there!" he cried, pointing somewhere over my shoulder.

I spun in an instant, my eyes flying to the doorway where I caught a flash of green and red, though it was only for the briefest moment imaginable. I had no idea who the two warriors were; the only thing I did know was that the girl was missing, and as far as I could tell, she was no longer in the hall. If there was even the slightest chance that Lord Green and Master Red had kidnapped her, I would track them to the ends of the Earth.

"Let's go," I said, running for the exit with all the speed my legs could muster.

"You're not coming!" the stranger exclaimed.

"Like hell I'm not! They took the girl and I want her back!"

I was faster than the dark ninja, though he was surprisingly agile for his size.

We burst through the doors into the cold, night air, our heads flying this way and that as we searched for any sign of the villains, but the only thing I found was a glass slipper, discarded on the sidewalk like an empty cigarette packet. I reached down to pick it up, and the second I touched it I knew that it had belonged to her.

"This is no good," growled the ninja, reaching up to tear the material from his head. In doing so, he revealed his thick, dark curls and snowy, white skin, as well as two dimples on either side of his mouth. I recognised his face, but for some reason I couldn't place it. He began inhaling deeply through his nose, his eyes closing in concentration, flying open in the next second as he set off running towards a black Lamborghini.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to follow them."

"How will you know if you're going the right way?" I asked, climbing in the passenger side and slamming the door shut.

"I have phenomenal senses—that's all you need to know."

"Oh," I said weakly, trying to stop the leather seat from eating me as we raced along the road, neither of us sure of our destination.

The ninja had lowered the window and had proceeded to hang his head out into the open air, his expression changing whenever he discovered something to confirm he was on the right trail.

I don't know how long we drove. It could have been hours; maybe it was only minutes. Eventually, I decided to stop prolonging the inevitable, and asked him why he had begun his pursuit of the two warriors in the first place.

"They stole my star," he snarled, beating a fist against the dash board.

My eyes lingered on the dint he had left there.

"Not so long ago, my love and I were sharing a moonlit picnic. It was a very clear night and we saw a shooting star streaking across the sky as it fell to Earth. To prove the extent of my affections, I vowed to find the star and bring it back. And I did.

"My love was overjoyed and agreed to marry me, but the night before the wedding, the star was stolen. My fiancée saw it as a bad omen; she convinced herself it was a sign that we were destined to have a terrible marriage, so I proclaimed that I would hunt down the star and bring it home to ensure us a prosperous future."

"Wow," I answered, immersed in his tale, "that's not the kind of thing you hear about everyday. What did the star look like?"

I had expected him to confirm my theory and tell me that it was nothing more than a small lump of rock, but, instead, he looked at me like I was the world's biggest ignoramous and enunciated the words, "Star-shaped and yellow."

We fell into silence after that, neither of us breaking it until a flash of lightening lit the sky and a crack of thunder sounded above us.

"DAMN IT!" the man bellowed, as torrents of rain began splattering onto the windshield. "How am I supposed to track them now?!"

"We could wait for the storm to pass," I suggested.

"And allow the scent to wash away? I don't think so."

He opened his car door and climbed out, slamming it shut before sprinting off into the desert.

Desert… I thought, we're in a desert now?

I sighed and unlatched my seatbelt, leaving the Lamborghini behind and chasing off after the ninja. Unfortunately, his dark suit provided the perfect camouflage in the blackness of the night, making it impossible for me to see him through the sheets of rain. When I finally decided to admit defeat and end my hunt, I began searching instead for the car, but I had no idea which direction was which.

I must have walked for hours upon hours, because the storm eventually cleared and the darkness lifted with the rising sun, giving me a clearer indication of my location.

In a word, I was nowhere.

The landscape was nothing but a flat, sandy expanse that stretched on for miles in every direction. I had no idea how I had managed to end up here, when only the night before I had been standing in a ballroom in Chicago. This was certainly not Illinois; it looked more like Texas, but surely I hadn't come so far already?

"Put 'em up!" a voice ordered from behind me.

I spun automatically, hoping that my eyes would find the ninja.

But it wasn't the ninja: it was a golden haired man straddling a magnificent brown stallion, and he was aiming a gun straight at my chest.

"I said… put 'em up!"

I did as I was told, raising my hands above my head like a common criminal.

Despite the fact that the man was clearly a local, judging by his outfit, his skin held no hint of a tan: it was as snowy as the ninja's had been, whilst his eyes were a piercing grey.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, scanning my body for weapons.

"I… I'm trying to find the Red and Green Warriors."

"Are you working for them?!" he demanded, flicking off the safety catch and preparing to fire.

"No," I insisted suddenly, hoping it was the right answer. "They took the girl. I have to rescue her!"

The cowboy lowered his pistol instantly, his face softening slightly.

"I know where to find them," he said, before bring two fingers to his lips and whistling loudly.

The second the sound had exited his mouth, an army of riders came galloping our way, all clothed in similar garments: cowboy hats and leather boots—like they had just sprung out of a Western. The man whistled again, though it was nowhere near as loud as the first, calling to his side a beautiful black horse which he then offered me.

"These two warriors… do they have big noses and thick, black moustaches?"

"Yes," I responded, recalling the ninja's description as I climbed onto the stallion's back.

The cowboy shook his head in disgust, and said, "They arrived in town not so long ago, and drove me out so that they could claim it for their own." I felt my brow furrow in confusion, but it relaxed when I caught sight of the shiny, gold star pinned to his chest: he was the Sheriff. "So I travelled to neighbouring towns to seek help. My men and I are heading back to put a stop to their terrorising. If you want to get the girl back, you'll have to follow us."

"I'm ok with that."

He kicked the horse into movement then, picking up speed whilst I followed on behind him. I pushed the horse faster and faster in my desperation to reach the town. God only knew what those monsters wanted with the girl! Perhaps they were after the apple. They couldn't have it—she'd offered it to me. I wanted it!

"We're almost there," the Sheriff cried.

No sooner had he made the announcement than I caught sight of a smudge on the horizon. It started off small at first, growing with time until it resembled a distant settlement. We slowed when we reached the edges, advancing carefully to prevent an ambush. It was nothing but a long street, buildings constructed of wood and red brick on either side. Although there were no people to be seen outside, every single window pane in sight had at least half a dozen faces pressed against the glass, all waiting to view the outcome of our arrival.

The Sheriff hissed beside me, causing my head to instantly snap in his direction. He was looking ahead at something, and when I turned to follow his line of sight, my eyes focused in on a figure standing in the middle of the street about twenty metres away. My stomach tightened as I analysed his appearance.

He was wearing blue dungarees over a bright green sweater. His hands were covered by white gloves, and upon his head he wore a hat bearing the letter L.

The Green Warrior.

"Well, well, well… I see you brought e team to fight us off-e," he said in a thick Italian accent. "My brudder end I will not-e stand for dis."

"WHERE'S THE GIRL?!" I roared, wanting nothing more than to snatch the Sheriff's gun and finish Lord Green myself.

"Di girl? What girl?

"Don't give me that! I know that you know!"

"Know dat I know what?"

"About the girl!"

"Ah, yes," he nodded, "di girl."

"Where is she?!" I demanded.

"Oh, she left."

"Left? What do you mean 'she left'? You just let her go?"

"No," Lord Green said offhandedly, "she disappeared into thin-e air… like e boobble—pop! Pop she went."

"I don't understand," I admitted, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"She is e sorceress, no? Dat was what she said anyways."

"Why did you take her?" I asked, my concern for the girl and her apple soaring.

"My brudder end I needed her magic to help us break into di castle."

"Castle? What castle?"

The green warrior pointed westward, directing our eyes over the wooden buildings towards a colossal stone fortress, its highest tower lost in thick grey clouds. Funnily enough, they seemed to be restricted to that one area, for the sky overhead was clear and bright.

"You-e cannot go in," Lord Green continued. "My brudder needs-e time to complete 'is work. You would only interfere."

"It doesn't matter," the Sheriff growled, "I want you out of this town right now!"

"I'm efraid dat is not en option."

"I'll decide what is and what is not an option," he answered, jumping out of the saddle. "Either you agree to a shoot-off, or I put a bullet through your head right now."

"If-e dat is 'ow you want it, den dat is what you'll-e get."

The two stood glaring at each other, waiting whilst the rest of us had moved off to the sides. A tumbleweed blew from one side of the road to the other as they stared into one another's eyes, both readying themselves for the coming fight. Then, the two pivoted on their heels and took ten steps, both heading in opposite directions. On their last pace, they spun back on one another, drawing their guns so quickly their movements almost blurred, before releasing a stream of bullets, both of them shooting to kill.

I never found out who the victor was—I had already slipped away before anyone took a bullet. Though I prayed the Sheriff would come through, I knew I needed to get to the castle before the duel finished just in case things went badly. This was my best chance to make it there.

It was actually a lot closer than I had originally suspected, and took me only a few minutes to reach on foot. I pelted through the gates and up the hill, sprinting along the winding path and over the stone bridge. I didn't hesitate at the door; instead, I ran straight through, entering into a sizeable hall. Excluding the many doors lining the walls, the carpeted staircase, and the octagonal rug laid out on the black and white chequered floor, the entire thing was completely empty. A blue sky dotted with clouds had been painted onto the walls, along with rows of trees that made up the bottom half.

I was stumped. I had no idea which way to turn next. The Red Warrior could be hiding behind anyone of these doors, and there were certainly too many rooms for me to explore them all. I was just about to set off through the closest one when a cry from the second floor demanded my attention.

"NO!" someone roared. "IT'S MINE!"

I hurtled up the stairs, stopping when I reached a set of large double doors, one of which had been left ajar. Being careful as to avoid detection, I slowly peeked through the crack, my lungs constricting with panic as I caught sight of the dark ninja locked in combat with a man who was, without a doubt, the Red Warrior.

"It's-e not yours; it's-e mine!"

"You stole it!" the ninja cried, aiming a kick to his opponent's head. "You're a thief!"

He hit his mark, causing the Red Warrior to stumble backwards. He was wearing a matching uniform to that of his brother. The only difference between them was that he was shorter and bulkier than the Green Warrior; plus, his sweater was a vivid scarlet. I made to step through the door, ready to run to the ninja's assistance, but an impossible sight stopped me in my tracks.

I've officially cracked, I thought. I've actually gone insane.

Maybe I was still in Chicago in a mental hospital, and all of this was just some wild illusion my brain had cooked up to keep me occupied… because there was no way in the world that there could ever be such a thing as a creature that was half man, half mushroom. And yet… there it was, scuttling across the floor, its arms raised in panic as its friend took a beating. The red and white spotted fungus on top of its head almost resembled a hat, but it seemed a little too realistic to be some kind of eccentric accessory.

After regaining his balance, the Red Warrior shot forwards, his right fist smashing into the ninja's jaw with an almighty crack.

"Yaaaaay!" cried the Mushroom.

Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I watched him clap his hands and dance around. Just as Master Red was about to make another right hook, I burst through the door, reacting instinctively as I dove forwards and wrapped an arm around the mushroom man's neck. It let out a strangled cry in shock, effectively stopping the Red Warrior mid-swing.

"Make one more move," I growled menacingly, "and I'll take a bite out of your little friend."

The man raised his hands slightly, as if preparing to try and calm the situation.

"Dat is not-e such e good idea. He is en hallucinogenic."

"Well… all the more fun for me," I argued weakly. "You have to give the ninja back his star!"

"Please, you don't-e understand. I need di star."

"Why? So you can sell it and get rich?"

"No!" he insisted. "I-e need its powers to save-e di Princess."

"What Princess?" the ninja asked, concern suddenly colouring his tone.

"Di Princess dat was kidnapped by di evil giant turtle. He's-e going to force her to marry 'im."

There was a long pause, which was eventually broken by a heavy sigh.

"Well, this changes things," said the ninja.

"How do we know you're not lying?" I asked quickly, eyeing the Master Red; but despite my question, my hold around the mushroom man's neck loosened.

The Red Warrior's expression turned thoughtful for a minute, before he turned full on to face his opponent.

"How ebout we-e make e deal?"

"Go on."

"I cannot give up di star until I 'av recued di Princess," the Italian master confessed carefully, "but if you were to come-e wid me, I could-e give it to you afterwards."

The ninja relaxed from his fighting stance, assuming a more natural pose.

"You swear that… if I help you defeat this… turtle, you'll give me back my star?"

"I e-swear on all dat is holy."

The ninja took a deep breath and said, "Alright, I'll help you. How do we find this evil, giant turtle?"

"He's-e up-a stairs. Follow me!"

"Wait," I cried, before either of them had the chance to run away, "what about the girl? Do you know where she went?"

"Of course," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "she's-e behind you."

I stood frozen like a statue, unable to turn around whilst the Red Warrior, the ninja and the mushroom ran off towards a gigantic set of stairs and finally out of sight. My feet seemed to be rooted to the spot, as if hundreds of vines had sprung from the soles of my feet and had worked their way through the floor, preventing any form of movement whatsoever.

I strained my ears, but the only sound I could detect was that of my own heavy breathing. Slowly but surely, however, strength crept back into my limbs, the weight diminishing so that it no longer seemed as though my shoes were filled with concrete. Finally, I turned back to face the doors.

And there she was, head tilted slightly to the side, smiling mischievously.

"Hello," I said, sighing with relief.

She didn't answer, she merely grinned more widely, waiting for me to approach. I walked forwards, my feet now seeming to move of their own accord, travelling towards the girl like a moth to a flame. When we were so close that we were practically touching, I felt my expression turn accusatory as I remembered her abrupt departure from the ballroom.

"You ran."

"Only because you forced me to," she argued softly, the smile still lighting her features.

"What are you talking about?" I asked suddenly, unnerved by her strange allegation. "I didn't force you to do anything."

"Really?" she challenged, before drawing the unbitten apple from behind her back once again and holding it up to my lips.

I couldn't make sense of her cryptic ways. What exactly was she trying to tell me?

I looked from the girl to the apple, to the girl, and then back the apple. It looked so… appealing… so delicious… so unbelievably, completely and utterly tempting. In those few seconds, everything else seemed to evaporate—every worry, every concern, the world even—leaving only the two of us behind.

I inhaled the apple's scent, and my mouth watered as I allowed it to overtake my senses. Now, with my lips and tongue skimming its shiny, crimson surface, I prepared to bite through, prolonging that last maddening moment of luscious anticipation, and then…

I froze.

A little way off—just over the girl's shoulder—was a mirror. My eyes caught on it; more specifically, on my reflection. I was barely recognisable: my skin was the colour of snow, the soft pink of my cheeks now completely drained, whilst two purple shadows hung beneath a pair of hungry, onyx eyes.

My head snapped up instantly, all thoughts of the fruit still resting in the girls hand now completely forgotten. I looked down at my palms, but found that they were a soft peach, nowhere near to the shade the mirror painted them.

"I told you," the girl said, her expression amused, though her eyes betrayed her irritation.

"I still don't understand," I admitted, my gaze settling back on my reflexion.

"Go and take a closer look," she instructed, flicking her head at the mirror.

I obeyed, reaching the frame in three strides.

Is that me? I thought, stroking along the surface with the back of my fingers. There was no resistance: the glass rippled like silvery liquid—like liquid mercury—distorting the image until it was nothing more than a mish-mash of colour. And, then, propelled by an unstoppable urge, I stepped through the looking glass, leaving the castle and the sorceress behind.

When I came out on the other side, the only thing there was golden mist. It was so impossibly thick that I couldn't even see the hand I held out in front of me. Luckily, it thinned with each and every stride I took, until it had all but vanished, giving me a clear view of the room I had somehow come to arrive in.

It was an exact replica of the ball room in Chicago, only this time it was empty, save for myself and the girl, who was sat in a Victorian armchair made of red velvet and mahogany.

She was wearing a white cotton t-shirt, blue jeans, and one Converse sneaker. The sight of her bare foot summoned a memory to the forefront of my mind. I reached for my pocket, searching for the glass slipper, but when my fingers found the item and I pulled it out, it was the exact match of the girl's navy sneaker.

"It's changed," I said automatically, observing the white laces and the logo star.

"So have you," she pointed out.

Sure enough, she was right. The colour had vanished from my skin, so that it now resembled white alabaster. Although there were no mirrors nearby, I knew what my eyes would look like if I were to peer into one: they would be jet black.

"Bella," I murmured, my eyes settling back on the girl.

"Edward," she smiled.

"This is a dream." She didn't reply, but her eyes held some encouragement, as if she wanted me to continue. "I always knew … at the back of my mind. I knew who you all were."

"Naturally," she nodded, "you're a vampire. You were bound to figure it out eventually."

"I'm still not sure what it all meant though: ninjas, cowboys, video games… what relevance do they have?"

I walked over and knelt before her chair, sliding her barefoot into the shoe, before my attention flitted back to her face, reading her expression as she launched into an explanation.

"You're fighting it Edward," she said mysteriously, rising from the chair.

"Fighting what?"

"I think you know. Don't you find it a little strange that Emmett came charging into your dream the very second you were about to take it?"

"Take what?"

Once again, the apple made it appearance. She cradled it between her palms whilst her eyes attempted to communicate some crucial point.

I was a little unsure how to respond. I couldn't deny that the brazen fruit had something irresistible out it—some impossible pull that became more and more difficult to refuse with each passing second; even so, I couldn't see how I was responsible for my ninja-brother's interruption.

"You were trying to fight it," she repeated. "That's why you jumped."

I didn't need her to elaborate this time; I already knew what she was trying to tell me.

"That was Emmett's dream I was seeing… He's dreaming that he's a ninja… a ninja hunting a star."

"You caught a glimpse of it," she nodded, "and incorporated it into your own story."

Now that I thought about it, I recalled that Rose had forced him to watch Stardust two nights before we had left for Hogwarts.

"Why Super Mario, though?" I questioned in puzzlement. "As far as I know, he hasn't played that game in over ten years."

She shrugged and said, "I guess the star was the link. They feature heavily in both. Don't ask me to try and understand how Emmett's dreams work. That concept is too terrifying for anyone to handle."

"And Jasper," I smirked, "is he really dreaming about being a cowboy?"

Bella grinned wickedly.

"That's brilliant," I laughed, shaking my head, "though potentially problematic. I doubt I'll be able to look at either of them and keep a straight face."

"True," she chuckled, "but you're still avoiding the issue."

For the third time, she raised the apple to my lips, cocking an eyebrow as she did so.

"You don't have to be such a gentleman inside your own head, you know."

I bit my lip.

"It's just a fantasy," she smiled. "Everybody has them."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled.

"So what's the problem?"

My self control, I thought, wondering how I'd fare in my waking hours if I indulged in such things during sleep. Denying Bella was already hard enough; surely this would just make it more difficult. If I gave in now, would I be able to last another year? But, then again… that apple really did look exceptionally delicious. One quick bite, maybe? What could it hurt?

For the last time, I pressed my lips to its skin, ready to slice my teeth through to the pulp. It seemed to have a life of its own—I could almost feel it pulsing with excitement.

My breathing accelerated as I inhaled the heady scent. I couldn't resist. I didn't want to resist. I wanted to… to…

The next thing I knew… I was on the other side of the room, my back to Bella as I pressed my face against the wall, attempting to regain some sense of composure. It took everything I had not to run across the hall and snatch the apple from her grasp. It was almost as difficult as trying to resist the call of human blood—another siren call.

But you want it, said the devil on my shoulder. Why shouldn't you have it? The girl's right—everyone has a fantasy. Bella has one. You can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. You can even smell it on her.

Don't, said the gentlemanly angel, don't listen. Breaking now is fine, but what if that leads to a slip in the real world. You're a vampire; she's a human. You could hurt her.

I could hurt her.

That was all it took for my sensible side to win out. I inhaled a series of deep, calming breaths, refusing to turn until I had regained a suitable level of control. When I had, I saw that the apple had vanished, though Bella remained. She was wearing that half-amused half-irritated expression again.

Shaking her head, she sighed, "You'll break eventually, you know—sooner rather than later."

"I don't doubt that," I said, slowly walking back towards her.

We stared at each other for the longest time, immobile like statues, before I finally pulled her body against mine, taking both of her hands and placing one of them on my shoulder.

"What are we doing?" she asked nervously, her eyes narrowing as the room filled with the sound of her lullaby.

"Dancing," I smiled, "and you're not allowed to complain. This is my dream, and I command you to enjoy it."

"As you wish," she replied, grinning widely as I pulled her into the flow of the music. She moved and twirled as gracefully as any vampire; despite that, I had to admit… I found Bella's real life clumsiness completely endearing. That was one of the benefits of having lightning quick reflexes: I always caught her.

Flying with her in this way was certainly one definition of heaven—the feeling of total freedom and weightlessness was incredible. In all my human years, I was sure I had never had a dream as vivid and wonderful as this. In terms of sight and sound, it could have been real. Everything was so unbelievably clear.

I don't know how much time passed whilst we danced across the marble floor, but, eventually, the soft candlelight began to grow dimmer, diminishing more and more until the darkness was pressing in on us on all side. Just before it had the chance to swallow us both, Bella pressed her lips to mine in a gentle kiss. Although my sense of touch wasn't exactly active in dream land, I still felt a tingle—a subtle electricity—with even the slightest contact. I suppose that was a product of the craving I constantly had for her.

"Until next time," she whispered, before we were consumed by the shadows.

I tried to hold onto her. I tried to fight against the black, desperately clinging to the dream world, already finding myself addicted. But no matter how hard I kicked against the current, I couldn't prevent it from dragging me back up through the deep water towards the surface.

Slowly but surely, I became aware of the familiar sounds—five steady beats in the near vicinity, accompanied by soft breathing.

I didn't want this. Everything still felt so heavy, so difficult. I knew I had to open my eyes, but doing so seemed like an impossible task. Forcing the van to stop had been far easier than this. Light attacked my eyelids, virtually screaming at me to open them.

No… don't want to, I thought, stubbornly reaching for my pillow and stuffing it over my face.

Clearly, the potion hadn't completely worn off, because I drifted in and out of consciousness in the next few minutes, constantly teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. Finally, however, the minds of those around me forced me out of my stupor.

Go… away… light, Emmett thought, pulling his covers over his head.

Don't… like it, Jasper thought, seeming just as slow as the rest of us this morning.

I yawned widely beneath my pillow, which felt very odd, but somehow managed to bring a strange sense of relief. I heard Emmett yawning too; it sounded like a sound a sleepy bear would make.

I eventually managed to open my eyes, allowing the evil light to assault them after I had removed the comforting pillow. It took a few seconds to adjust to it after experiencing the darkness for so long—I guess it was just another side effect. Was this really how a human felt in the morning? How did they ever manage to pull themselves out of bed? A part of my mind was still protesting.

Nope. Nope, it said, I'm not doing it. No one can make me. I'm a vampire; if they try, I'll bite them.

I ignored that pesky, little voice and sat up, rubbing my eyes with both hands as I did so. When I removed them and squinted through my lashes, I saw that my brothers were doing the same—peering through the slits their eyelids formed whilst they battled with the morning light.

After a few minutes of disorientation, I felt a cheesy grin stretching across my face. It started out small at first—a gentle smile that grew and grew until the corners of my mouth were practically touching my eyes. Emmett and Jasper's expressions mirrored my own: both were sat in their beds, leaning against the wooden headboards, looking just as pleased with themselves as I was with myself.

Then, when our smiles were so wide that they threatened to split our faces down the middle, the three of us burst out laughing, totally unable to contain our amusement, even as our hoots disturbed the humans sharing the dorm.

"Uh? What?! What's going on?" Seamus blurted, shooting forwards.

The fact that he had a sock stuck to the side of his face just made us laugh harder.

A/N: So what did you think? Did you realise what was going on before the end? Don't ask me how I managed to link Stardust with Mario. My mind is a bizarre place. Let me know what you thought. This chapter is quite different to anything I've really ever done in this story, so I'm eager to know how you all took it. Giggle! xxx