Finality

Ransley led us to a new clearing in the centre of a small woodland; he took in a deep breath before he sat down on the floor and crossed his legs. He took several shaking breaths before he turned around to face me. Ransley held out his arms and beckoned me into his lap. I took a step forward and a dandelion crushed under my bare foot, wishes floated away unmade as I watched them go. I was envious of the white seeds. I wanted to be able to float away.

The grass on the ground was thin and a faded green, dandelions and daisies littered the small area though. The trees surrounding us were thick and budding, but they were indistinguishable. The sky above was darkening with sunset and a strange shade of red. It would be a brilliant day tomorrow despite the terrible events overlooking it. Shadows were cast across the clearing as I advanced towards Ransley.

He took me in his arms and sat me in his lap, leaning against his chest. He rocked us back and forth and whispered an old song in Gaelic. His hands stroked my hair and played with the ends. When I looked up at his face, he looked straight ahead with a strained expression upon his features. His eyes were the darkest of blacks and when he took a breath in when the moon was high in the sky he pulled me tighter to his chest.

"It's midnight," he said suddenly. His head was turned towards the moon wonderingly, the strange shape of it still creating a good amount of light. His skin was that of the Dead's, not even his eyelids bore any sign of life. His blonde hair was bizarrely full though and shone in the light. I settled my head against his neck and took in his scent—honeysuckle. I wished I could cry when I thought of what would be undertaken today.

"Ransley, I'm so sorry," I said almost silently. I knew I would begin to sob soon if I didn't pull myself together. I had to be the strong one here. It was at least in part my fault, I realised now. I had told Henry to do what he wanted for the sake of my sanity…the insanity Emily had shown me terrified me and I needed a way out. So Henry created an immortal child.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Bella," he told me as he turned to me and lifted my chin up so I would look at him. My eyes met jet and the stars of the night. He held my chin in two of his fingers, his grip firm and soft. "This is all on Henry's head," he said this with finality. As if no-one could deny it. The Volturi would though, and they would challenge us.

"We will still pay for it though," I replied sadly. At this Ransley let my head go and turned to the skies again, praying words on his lips. I shook my head and rested against his chest again. "You know the God cannot help us Ransley." I was surprised he had not lost his faith by now, because mine had long been gone and I'd only been in this existence for scarcely a month.

"I can still try though, can't I? You may have lost any belief you ever had, but He is still in here providing for me the strength I gather every second I spend with you." I looked up at him, hurt by his admission. I was a task to him, no wonder. My wild moods nearly sent Henry mad.

"So I am a trial for you," I breathed. "Every moment you sit here with me is out of pity. I could understand that. 'Poor Isabella, this is all her fault. I should look after her pathetic little soul until Death finds her and sends her to Hell.'" I stood up as I spoke and went to the very edge of the clearing, my feet making deep impressions in the ground as I stomped.

"No, that's not true at all." Ransley was behind me in a second, his hand gripping my shoulder and turning me around. "For one, if I hated you why would I spend the last few moments of my life with you? And for two, nothing is your fault in this. You said it yourself, this is all on Henry." His eyes searched my face, and his hand moved from my shoulder to my hand. He gripped it in his own hand and kissed each of my fingers tenderly. "You're not a task." He smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"If I am not a task, then why do you need the Lord to give you strength?" I asked, pulling my hand from his and gesturing to the sky above. I was met with silence. He paused for a moment before he took both of my hands and swung them between us. His whole body was tensed when he answered me.

"Because I find myself loving you more and more each minute I spend with you." I was stunned to say the least and my heart clenched in my chest. He loved me. I turned this phrase over and over in my head, my brow furrowed. "I'd appreciate it very much if you would react somehow," he said nervously. He held my hands tightly against his chest, the fabric of his clothes rubbing on my fingers.

My ingenious answer was, "Err." Ransley laughed shakily.

"I should have expected that," he murmured, turning away from me.

What could I say? What did he expect me to say? Did he want me to leap into his arms screaming, 'I love you too'? I was afraid that would be impossible. Because I didn't love him, and I never could love him. He would wither. I felt tears prick my eyes, I didn't want to hurt him but I certainly didn't see fit to lead him on. Then again, what would it matter? We would both be dead by this time tomorrow. He would never know. I could set aside own feelings so he could express his own.

I sighed and put a hand on his back, he turned. I reached my hands out to him and he leant into them. I pulled him to my mouth and kissed him, I kissed Ransley because I didn't want to lose him. His hands came to cup the back of my head as he held me fast to him. His touch was fervent and carefully measured. He didn't want to hurt me.

Finally, after what seemed like forever he let me go. He grinned and held me to his chest once more, before he sat us down. Ransley rested his head in my hair and took his first steady breath in for days. "I love you," his muffled voice came thick with emotion. "I'm sorry we didn't meet in another life."

"Me too," I replied.

*****

The sun brushed over the horizon as I was met with a new sighting. This time I did not feel ill with it though, thankfully. This time however, what I saw was much more horrific.

Emily was paralysed, her body incapable of movement and her mind locked. Lucian stood behind her, his powerful stare focused on the back of the child's head. Aro stood before Emily in the quiet woodland they had taken her into at the side of an unknown road. He smiled sadistically as he clapped his hands together; Caius cast him a furtive glance. Heidi and Eleazar were silent spectators at their sides and Felix was nowhere to be seen.

"Well done, Lucian," Aro said gratefully. "If Eleazar is right we could be in some trouble if she's let loose. Such a frightening gift would do us no good." He sighed and took several steps forward before he grasped her hand in both of his. Aro's wondering gaze roamed all over Emily's face as he gained whatever sight he received when he touched one's hand. "Such a remarkable child," he whispered, releasing her hand. Emily's face was frozen into an expression of distaste and her eyes bore little sign of sanity. Emily had vanished and what was left behind—was a monster. "And quite a pity that she must be destroyed." Aro turned away and held a quick conversation with Caius, who I now realised he considered a brother.

"What can she do?" Caius asked, his expression hopeful and hopeless at the same time. He knew that even if the child could kill on demand, Aro would still not keep her. The Volturi could not be seen as merciful people, and the implications that would go with allowing the girl to live would not leave them in good graces with the rest of the vampire world. It would say that the Volturi had their own set of rules and a different one for all the rest of vampire kind. Caius and Aro knew that they were in a position to do that, but if they were to keep their reign then they could not exploit that position.

"She can produce terrible visions in another person's head; it manifested itself even before her change." Caius' eyebrows shot up high in his forehead. The pale blonde of his hair seemed to turn white with his excitement and a slow grin crept up his face.

"What kinds of visions?" Aro appeared confused for a moment before he answered.

"Terrible, frightening visions, just as Alistair described." Aro turned to Emily again. She still appeared as wild with blood lust as ever, her crimson eyes locked ahead of her. Caius began to speak again.

"Can we not keep her for ourselves? Take her back to Italy? She's easily contained with Lucian here." The words flew out of his mouth faster than a muntjack running from a dog, his eyes flashing. Caius gestured so as to outline a small room back in Volterra from whence they came.

Aro was shocked at such a suggestion and gave Caius a silencing look, "You know why we cannot do that, brother. Now put away your childish fantasies for another day when Athenodora will not play with you." Caius' nostrils flared as he fought the urge to tell Aro off so severely he could not hear another thing for weeks. But Aro would not be undermined so he continued to speak to the Guard.

"You best destroy her now," he sighed, pulling his hood over his long black tresses and turning away in a direction I only guessed was Henry's.

"What now, Bella?" Ransley inquired uncertainly. His hand brushed my hair away from my face. He looked concerned while he took in my panicked face.

"Emily is gone now, and I think they're going to find Henry now." Ransley smiled though the expression held no happiness. I didn't know quite what to think. Should I feel relieved?I was glad that Emily was dead. But I was terrified for Henry; he would be gone from this world in a matter of hours. I hated what he'd done to me. But I didn't wish death on him, now I'd had time to think on all that happened. Ransley kissed my forehead, his arms clutching me tighter to him once more.

"I won't let them kill you, Bella," he told me, his breath brushing my hair. "I will protect you from them." His face was determined as the sun gradually found us, its dappled light creeping through the trees. We shone in the light, brighter than any star you would see in the sky. We wore our souls on our skins, bared for all to see and to do with as they pleased. If we were torn apart, our souls would not escape because they would be in pieces. We would never live again. We would never meet again.

"Ransley, tell me properly about your life, how you were changed," I asked, putting a hand on his cheek. I was suddenly desperate to really know him, yes I knew where he came from—but I didn't truly know what he used to do and what led him here. Did he ever find the Scot who killed him?

"Well, I was brought up in a hamlet outside of Dublin in Ireland. I lived in a small hut which was nothing unusual." He smiled before he continued, "And my mother was very lovely, she gave me my blonde hair which she liked to keep short. She washed all of the clothes in our hamlet. My father worked crops for a farmer whose name I can no longer remember. We were all fairly content back then.

"I can only remember small pieces of my human life—I imagine your memories are fading too. Anyway. I was bored I think when I decided to head in the woods behind our house, and I found a woman there. Her hair was a very bright red and her eyes were near black, I remember thinking she was quite a beauty. She smiled and said "Come with me, I have something for you." She walked off further into the woods then. I was wondering how she came to have such a strange accent when she spoke Gaelic. Because I hadn't set foot out of my little village in all my sixteen years, I had no concept of anything outside of it. So I followed her.

"She led me to a small circle of trees and then she was on me. Next thing I know, I feel like I'm being set on fire. I didn't know why she stopped herself from killing me until I met her a few years ago. She was chased off by a werewolf apparently. She had no choice but to leave me there. She claims she was lucky to escape with her life after fighting a werewolf—which she killed. She could not explain what such a creature was doing out in daylight though; it's always been a mystery to anyone I've told of my change."

I was puzzled for a moment. A werewolf? The sights that came to mind at this word were long bushy eyebrows, long and sharp fingernails, pointy ears and big hulking men taller than a house! Such horrific sights that I thought to be made up to frighten us all out of the woods. The idea that such a thing could truly exist made me jump from my seat in Ransley's lap and search the trees for grotesque furry men.

Ransley laughed before he rose to his feet. "Didn't you hear what I said? She killed it." He rested his hands on my shoulders and pulled me to him, breathing in my scent. "I killed her, too," he finally said. "I killed the woman who changed me; she said she probably deserved it for not coming back to me." I could feel his smile against the skin of my neck and I was disgusted. I pushed him away. How could he take so much pleasure from killing another person? Admittedly she was hardly innocent, but it still constituted a murder. My feet led me several paces away from him when I turned on him. There was still a smile playing on the edge of his lips, though his eyes were somber.

"What's wrong, Bella?" he questioned, walking until we stood toe to toe. He reached his hand up to my face and caressed my cheek. "What did I say?" I remained emotionless, perhaps only the blacks of my eyes giving away what I felt. How could I communicate my abhorrence of such violence effectively? I took his hand and held it in my own at our sides.

"You murdered her." Ransley was taken aback, his brow furrowed and his hand left mine. I made sure to hold his eyes. He would have to answer to me. He would have to look me in the eye and show remorse if I was to forgive his cruel behaviour.

"She wasn't human, Bella. She killed me." He gestured towards his heart, words of hurt about to tumble out of his lips. "You had your humanity taken from you a mere few weeks ago; surely you understand the hatred I felt towards her. That I still feel towards her." Ransley's voice was gentle but heavy with disbelief. He wanted to know what I was thinking, because I was very much in the same boat as him.

"I know, I know that, but I haven't killed Henry have I? I'm going to say to you what I said to Henry a short while ago: You can't justify killing with death." I took both of his hands in my own and shook him, desperately willing him to understand. Ransley was stubborn though, he heard me but he wouldn't listen. As far as he was concerned, the woman deserved it. So he bore no regret.

"You'd be right if she hadn't done something wrong," Ransley replied swiftly. Still my companion was not angered and I wondered where the anger he must have needed to kill his creator came from. Here I was questioning his motives, questioning his perception of right and wrong and calling him a murderer. Why didn't he shout at me? Why didn't he roar at me?

"Ransley, you're forgetting that we've all done what she did. You were her prey, just like every human you've ever killed was. Yes, she was wrong not to come back for you, but really—what could she do? I would bet she was quite a young vampire when she found you. She probably realised that she would have to look after you. So many humans abandon their children, well you were no different! She abandoned you." He was silent as he waited for me to continue. His back was straight and he held his arms by his sides.

"Then, when you found her, you're telling me she apologized. What else did you expect her to say or do? Sadly, none of us can turn back time. Did you even learn her name?" He shook his head, slowly. I carried on my tirade. I would keep on about this until he was sorry and realised what he'd done. "You didn't even find out her name. Describe to me the scene Ransley."

"I followed a lead from another vampire in Scotland's highlands. They said she was in a cave somewhere up there and had gone mad. So I went up there to the cave described and found her just as I remembered her. But this time, her eyes were not black but golden. She looked up at me as though I were God; she rose to her feet and ran into my side. She wrapped her arms around me. Her red hair seemed to have faded over the years between my first sighting and then.

"She said, "At last, you've found me." She smiled before she realised that I was not there for a wonderful family reunion. She looked pained as she stepped back into the darkness. I advanced towards her and took her by her shoulders. I shook her so hard her teeth rattled in her head and I asked her why she did it. At first she was unsure what I meant before it dawned on her and she told me the whole story of why she had left me there. About the werewolf.

"I asked her if she had any last words, and she said, "I'm so sorry for the many lifetimes of pain I caused you in my selfishness." She said she deserved everything she would get and then I killed her."

My mouth crumpled and my nose wrinkled. Ransley was a monster. I was instantly reminded of Ember in Barnstaple. The amber eyes of a creature who was undoubtedly wracked with so much sorrow, she refrained from drinking human blood. Abstinence would take so much will power it'd be near impossible. I supposed the woman thought she was repaying her debt to humanity.

"In the few moments you spent with that woman, were you never reminded of Ember?" I asked him. Ransley raised his brow before he went to answer.

"No. Should I have been?" I was stunned. The colour of Ember's eyes was so shocking when I met her that I burned with the curiosity to find out how came to gain such a lovely colour. I hated that I looked like a demon.

"Ransley, do you know how Ember has golden eyes?" Ransley nodded. "Then you should know how the woman you killed achieved such striking eyes that even in your fit of rage—you noticed their colour." His expression turned to that of a frown. "We will never know how long she kept from human blood, but it makes me think. If her reaction to you was as you described, then surely you could see how remorseful she was. And maybe, just maybe, after what she knew she did to you, she never drank from a human again." With those words floating in the air between us I took a breath before I was plunged into a new vision.

A fire was lit in a field past Chester, the wood crackled under the heat. The vampires who had made the small pyre stood away from it and started walking back into the forest, their cloaks swirling as they turned. In the fire there were several blackened shapes, bulkier than the wood. The fray of fabric curled in on itself and charred.

A dark violet smoke began to rise from the fire, and that was when I realised. What use would the Volturi have for a fire other than to kill someone? The reason behind the strangely coloured smoke and the fraying fabric was that they had found him. They'd found Henry. And now…he was dead.

I cried now, harder than ever before. Screaming and shrieking. Ransley came to grip my shoulders as I fell to the ground, my grief pushing me to the ground. Henry had been sorry and I had ignored his pleas. I had left him to die.

I was no more than a self-centred, stupid, ridiculous little hypocrite. I had been telling off Ransley for the past few hours for killing his creator and showing no mercy. I had shown Henry no mercy.

I was no better than him.

A/N: Well, this is the second to last chapter. Review to let me know when I should post the ending!