AN: Just a heads up there's some pretty messed up stuff discussed in this chapter. Nothing actually happens, but there's mentions of torture and slavery and stuff, because the past was brutal. But if you've made it this far, I don't think it's anything more shocking that what we've already seen.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HISTORY
…
And so much to learn, so much to learn!
I know you don't have my enthusiasm for collecting histories
But be tolerant with me brother,
As I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability
- Aro, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 36
…
"Four-thousand years ago?" I repeated, stunned.
"Four-thousand, five-hundred and six, if we must be exact," Marcus corrected, delicately opening one of the aged, leather-bound journals on the small writing desk in front of him, and tracing an ashy brown finger along a line of scrawled ink.
My head twitched—a tiny, swift nod—as I stood on the other side of the desk. "Okay… What happened in…" I leaned over sharply to read the text Marcus was pointing to. It was surprisingly legible, even in upside-down cursive. "…2,500 BC?"
"BC," Marcus snorted. "Such an arbitrary division of time."
I was surprised that he almost looked like he cared. Like it bothered him that humans used the birth of Christ to mark the time. But the fleeting look of disgust on his face didn't last for more than a tiny fraction of a second. Then it melted back into his usual mask of perpetual boredom.
"But no matter. I speak to you of four-thousand years ago, because the oldest vampire coven still standing was formed then," Marcus began, in a quiet, unhurried voice. "It was in Egypt—an unlikely place for vampires, you might think, because of the sun. But things were very different back then. There were no rules against revealing our true nature to humans."
I gawked at this. "No rules against…" I trailed off, unable to believe it. "But then… how did you…?"
"Fend off the armies of humans trying to kill us?" Marcus suggested in a dull monotone.
I nodded vigorously. There would be armies, wouldn't there?
I couldn't imagine humans would be happy about having the potential to become a vampire's meal. Even if, at the time, they didn't have weapons that stood a chance—like missiles or nuclear bombs.
"Most of our kind simply killed any who tried to oppose us. An angry mob, as you have seen, is no match for even a lone vampire."
I bristled. Carlisle's human memories were as foggy as my own. But I couldn't ever forget how completely outmatched his little militia of would-be-vampire-hunters had been against an actual creature of the night. And I could easily imagine, from what Marcus was saying, similar incidents of conflict between humans and vampires ended much the same way.
"But this caused problems of its own," Marcus continued. "If every human who picked up a pitchfork died, then…" he trailed off deliberately.
Sensing he wanted me to finish his sentence, I added, "…Then eventually there would be no more people left. No more… um… blood to drink."
Marcus nodded—a slow, solemn gesture, nothing like my super-fast twitches—before he continued. "So, most vampires in that time were nomads, never feeding in one place for too long, to prevent rumors from spreading, and forcing them to slaughter too many humans. It was never because any of these vampires cared about human life, of course," he felt the need to add. "Just because it was practical. Sustainable."
I swallowed. So cold. But Marcus was right. It was the logical thing to do.
"The Egyptian coven started out like any other band of nomads," Marcus revealed. "A mated pair—Amun and Kebi—were the principle founders in 2500 BC. They took in a few others here and there: abandoned newborns, as well as a few immortals they created themselves. You might recognize some of their former members. Amun changed Demetri about a thousand years ago."
My eyes widened at this. "Demetri was with them?"
"Yes. He stayed with them for a few years," Marcus confirmed. "But soon enough Aro discovered his power. And you know how he is."
Marcus rolled his eyes. And I nodded vigorously again. I did know.
"But long before Amun changed Demetri…"
Marcus traced his fingers gradually over another line of ink. And I jerked forward again to read it.
1400BC – 1200BC – The Volturi family was formed.
I stood back; my eyes wide. "Wait, so the Egyptians were around before the Volturi?" I blurted out, stunned.
I'd never really thought about that. To my modern mind, the Volturi seemed like a fixture of vampire society as old as the earth itself. But of course, that couldn't be right. Like everyone else, they had to have a beginning. Even if it was thousands of years ago.
Marcus nodded slowly again.
"Our coven—at least its core members, Aro, Caius, Athenodora, and I—all came together a little over three-thousand years ago. We bonded, at first, over our mutual interest in the arts, music, literature, science and other things that could only be gained from society. Things most other vampires of our time had no interest in."
I thought back to the nomads I'd ran into when the Cullens were playing baseball. How wild they'd seemed. More like animals than people. And I wondered, if that was the norm. If most vampires didn't feel the need to own houses and changes of clothes and cars. If most vampires didn't act as human as the Cullens or the Volturi did.
It wasn't a very comfortable thought. Even though I wasn't a very materialistic person, I just couldn't imagine having nothing but what you could carry on your person. And having no physical place to call home.
Marcus made a choked sound. "Didyme was there too, but…"
Marcus looked abruptly like he was in the worst pain imaginable. Like simply mentioning her name raked his heart over the coals. And I automatically felt a stab of empathy for him. Losing the woman he'd loved above all else… that had to be torture.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," I enthused as sincerely as I could. I wasn't very good at grieving with other people. But, because Marcus' current face was absolutely devastating, I gave it my best shot. "I… I didn't know her. But from what Aro showed me, she seemed like a very nice person."
The tiniest fraction of a smile twisted the corners of Marcus' lips. "Thank you, Isabella," he breathed, appreciatively. "I think, if she were here, Didyme would like you very much."
I blinked in shock. "You think?"
"She always did have a soft spot for the new recruits," Marcus said, smiling fondly.
I smiled back. But ours were both sad smiles. And his quickly fell.
"I was… happier then. Content to enjoy the things we preserved," Marcus went on in the same, lifeless monotone as before. "But Aro had high ambitions from the start. He wanted to bring order to the supernatural world."
Order. "So, I take it things were a lot more chaotic back then?"
Marcus nodded a third time. "Oh yes. Much more chaotic. Nomads squabbled with each other openly, razing whole cities in their never-ending battles for blood and power. Mobs of stubborn humans gathered to try and stop them—only to be cut down themselves in a matter of minutes. And the other supernatural creatures were just as lawless."
I inhaled sharply. "Wait, there's more than just vampires?"
I already knew of one other supernatural creature—the werewolves down in La Push. But if the Volturi hadn't discovered them, I didn't want to be the traitor to reveal their existence. Who knew what the Volturi would do if they found out they were not alone?
"Of course," Marcus breathed, like it should have been obvious.
"What else is there?" I demanded. Then, abruptly remembering my manners, I added, "I mean… if you don't mind telling me…?"
Marcus lightly shook his head. "I do not mind. I am here to educate you after all. Of course, Aro knows a lot more about this sort of thing, than me. I never had much patience for the other creatures."
Marcus seemed to be implying I should ask Aro instead. But I pouted. I wanted to know now.
And, after seeing my face, Marcus gave a soft little sigh, and decided to oblige. "Very well, what do you know about Children of the Moon?"
Children of the moon. I'd heard that name before. Someone had brought them up in the conference room earlier today. And according to Aro's memories one had been responsible for taking Caius' arm—the one Vera had helped him grow back. But beyond those two oblique references, I knew nothing about the creatures themselves.
I shook my head very quickly. "I've… never heard of them until recently."
Marcus grunted in acknowledgement. "Caius' extinction attempts must have been successful."
I gaped at this. "Extinction attempts?"
Marcus nodded. "My brother is not one to let things go. A Child of the Moon attacked him once, many centuries ago, and he decided that the entire species did not deserve to live as a result."
I sucked in a breath. Remind me never to piss him off.
"Aro, of course, would have stopped him if the vendetta did not suit his purposes," Marcus added to let me know that his other brother supported the idea too. "But Children of the Moon are not like us. They are, in all notable respects, human, until the three nights of the full moon. Then they transform into uncontrollably violent wolf-man-monsters with a hunger for human flesh."
I swallowed.
"You might call them werewolves," Marcus added.
Werewolves? The description Marcus gave lined up closer to Hollywood's depiction. But it sounded nothing like the werewolves I had actually met. The ones I'd befriended down in La Push. So, I was confused.
And apparently it showed.
"You are thinking of your friends, aren't you?" Marcus pressed.
"What?"
He can't possibly know about them. Can he?
I looked at his face again, scanning it for clues. And my heart sank.
He could.
"Calm yourself, Isabella," Marcus urged, when I started to unnecessarily hyperventilate. "My brothers and I mean them no harm. Though they may use the word 'werewolf' to describe themselves, it is only out of ignorance. They are not true werewolves."
My confusion grew in the extreme. Not werewolves?
"The more accurate term for them would be shape-shifters," he told me. "Aro explained it to me the other day. Carlisle's kin, Edward, chanced upon their ancestors in the 1930s. And Aro believes, from what he has seen, that those you have encountered are much like those we've met before, in other parts of the world."
I felt like my jaw was going to hit the floor. "There are more people like the wolf pack?"
Marcus nodded. "Yes. But the choice of a wolf form was pure chance. The others we have met turn into bears or hawks or panthers. Aro thinks it has something to do with when the first change was made. That the first ones to change choose the form their descendants will take."
My eyes sparked with fascination. The world was a lot bigger than I had previously thought.
But Marcus only shrugged. Clearly, he didn't care. "Regardless, they have nothing to do with the Children of the Moon. Like many of us, they have inherited a skill from their fathers. It is genetic—they do not continue their species by infecting others the way true werewolves do."
Infecting. I didn't like the way that sounded.
At least, until I had an epiphany. Wasn't that what vampires did?
"Children of the Moon have venom, too?"
If Marcus was offended by the comparison, he didn't show it.
"It is similar to what we have, yes," he confirmed. "Perhaps it is a mutation."
I opened my mouth to say something. A mutation?
"But—" he added, before I could interrupt him, "—that is not so much of a surprise. All supernatural creatures in this world seem to have some connection to the substance."
My mouth gaped wider at that. And the previous question I'd been wanting to ask was replaced by a new one. "How so?"
"Despite thousands of years of research, we do not know where supernatural talents, such as Aro's telepathy or Alice's ability to see the future, or your gift, originate," Marcus began to explain. "Nor do we know where the ability to shape-change comes from. They both seem to stem from a combination of personal temperament and genetics. But all these powers are in the same vein, so to speak, and all are triggered by vampire venom."
My eyebrows raised at his last remark. "Triggered?"
"Your power should be stronger now that you have been made into a vampire," Marcus pointed out—the uncertainty in his voice probably only because we had not formally tested that. "But some are so potent in their human form that they can fully manifest only in proximity to venom. The shape-shifters in Forks did this in response to the Cullens, yes?"
Proximity to venom. Yeah, that had been what had done it.
I was a little taken aback that Marcus knew that the powers of the Quileutes were activated in response to vampires. But I figured the other shape-shifters he had encountered must work in a similar fashion. So, I nodded heartily.
"The presence of Children of the Moon typically garners the same reaction," Marcus went on.
I gasped. "So, if Sam had met a werewolf first…"
Marcus nodded. "He would have begun shape-shifting, yes. Although it may have been slightly different, since theirs is a different strain of venom than ours. Perhaps this 'Sam' would have been restricted in the times of day he could change. Or the number of times," he suggested. "I cannot say. Werewolf venom is different than ours…"
I noted that he didn't specify exactly how. Though his next statement clarified why.
"But we have not been able to study it much, since the extermination order was set in place…"
Oh right. Tearing them apart and burning the pieces immediately would kind of make scientific observations of them difficult… I mused.
"Why did Aro go along with that?" I asked. I felt fairly certain the man had a good reason. Aro didn't strike me as the type to let an entire species be wiped off the earth simply to fulfill some petty need for revenge.
"The Children of the Moon transform involuntarily," Marcus told me. "It can happen when they are in the middle of a crowded street. Or in the middle of the woods. It does not matter where they are, or who can see them. If it is one of the three nights of the full moon, they will change."
"So, they're a liability." I guessed.
Marcus sighed and nodded. "Yes. And not only that, but they are not lucid at all in their wolf-state. They are nothing more than savage beasts. They cannot reign in their hunger for human flesh. So, they kill, openly, and indiscriminately. They often slaughter people in public, leaving lots of witnesses for us to deal with."
I swallowed. I could see how that was bad.
"So Aro decided, if Caius wanted to take it upon himself to remove them… why not let him? They are a menace to our secrecy. And, less importantly, to the human population numbers.
Less importantly. Humans were an afterthought.
That would also… take some getting used to.
"They're mostly extinct, though, right?" I asked for clarification,
I was hoping that Caius had been thorough enough in his efforts to wipe the Children of the Moon off the face of the earth. That I would never have to encounter one as long as I lived. Based on the paltry descriptions I'd been given, I had no desire to contend with one.
Fighting other vampires was one thing. But trying to rip apart and burn a huge, rabid wolf-man-monster didn't sound easy. If Caius, of all people, had lost an arm in the attempt, there was no way I was going to come away from that fight alive, my newborn strength, notwithstanding.
"A few may still live in remote corners of the world," Marcus disappointed me by pointing out. "But I believe they have been eradicated from all of Europe, and North America. So, you have no reason to worry about encountering one."
I exhaled in relief. Then perked up again. "Anything else I should know?" I probed.
"Isabella… perhaps we should get back to discussing our history?" Marcus suggested, growing weary of this tangent I had taken the conversation in.
I bristled a little. He was right. There were things he wanted me to learn about vampires today. But I wasn't quite done with this topic just yet.
"Please?" I implored him, throwing a hand over my heart and jerking my head into the slightest of bows—the easiest gesture of respect. "No one else will tell me anything," I complained. "What if my ignorance gets me killed?!"
Marcus sighed. "Fine, there is one last thing," he breathed, sounding rather tired. "Do not try to drink blood from anyone who is not a regular human. Some bloodlines of shape-shifters are poisonous."
I tensed. "Poisonous?"
Marcus nodded.
"But how will I know?" I demanded urgently.
I didn't know exactly what being poisoned entailed as a vampire. And I obviously wasn't intending to consume someone I knew to be a shapeshifter. But I was worried with their almost identical appearance to regular humans most of the time, that I might make a mistake.
"Well, regardless of whether they are poisonous or not, the blood of shape-shifters smells disgusting," Marcus said. "So, as long as you stay well fed, you will not want it."
I remembered Alice had said the wolves smelled like wet dog. Instinctively, I wrinkled my nose. There was no way I would want to consume anything that smelled like that. Not unless I had no other choice.
"Anything else?" I pressed urgently.
"No, that is all."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's it? There are no other supernatural creatures out there? Just werewolves, shapeshifters and vampires?"
"As far as we know," Marcus clarified. "There may be more we simply have not discovered."
I pursed my lips. That wasn't exactly a comforting thought. The idea that elves or fairies might pop out of little holes in the ground suddenly, was alarming. But I supposed uncertainty was inevitable. After all, it wasn't like the Volturi could overturn every stone on the whole earth—though of course, they would try.
"So anyway… before we got talking about the Children of the Moon, you were saying… things in the supernatural world were… chaotic?" I said, trying to get us back up to speed.
Marcus nodded pleasantly, and tapped his finger again on a line of ink on the open leather-bound journal in front of him, before launching back into his historical account.
"In those early days, some four-thousand years ago, Children of the Moon ravaged the streets every month. Pitchfork-bearing mobs sprang up all too often, having to be crushed. And most vampires, in an attempt to keep enough humans alive to feed from, were nomads. But two covens—the Egyptians and the Romanians—were tired of uprooting themselves so frequently. Around the same time the Volturi was first formed, they both sought out permanent residences. And it seemed that they craved some of the same things Aro, Caius, Athenadora, Didyme and I did."
"Society?" I guessed.
"The spoils of it, at least," Marcus clarified. "I do not think the Romanians were ever all that concerned with the preservation of history. In fact, they destroyed a lot of it when they chased all the humans out of the castle they decided to make their permanent home."
I stiffened as I pictured what Marcus was describing.
I imagined a coven of old, European vampires storming an old, medieval castle. They would have killed every human in their path, whether they were the armed guards in useless chain-mail armor, or the defenseless, young princesses in soft velvets and silks. Their bodies would litter the castle grounds, twisted at odd angles, broken and bleeding. And as the vampires carved an angry, crimson path through the fortress, they would, inevitably destroy most of the royal family's valuable possessions in the process. They'd be moving too quickly and too powerfully to care if old books crumbled to dust. If furniture was broken beyond repair. Or if historical portraits were ripped to shreds.
I shivered, just thinking about it.
"It was not pretty," Marcus said, sounding fractionally sadder than usual. "But nothing the Romanians or the Egyptians ever did in those times was. They never had much patience for the arts, or anything noteworthy humans produced. They were only interested in themselves."
"Wait, the Egyptians and the Romanians?" I recognized those names from our earlier meeting as two of the suggested culprits behind the newborn army Alice saw. "What did they do?"
"They were… shall we say… big influencers in the world," Marcus decided was the best term. "Like Aro, they had high ambitions, and treated everyone else as their subjects."
"So, they ruled the supernatural world before the Volturi did?"
That seemed to be what he was implying, at least.
Marcus huffed. "They were hardly interested in rules of any kind. Only power. After establishing their own more or less permanent residence, the Egyptians posed as gods to the humans. They enjoyed the worship greatly. Every item of material wealth the old world had to offer was at their fingertips. Gold, fine silks, jewels, statues carved in their honor, palaces of white limestone. And they never needed to hunt. They would receive offerings."
My eyes widened to the size of saucers.
The hoarding of wealth I could understand. Vampires were so beautiful, people would give them anything. Especially, if they were allowed to stand outside in the sunlight. If that was how Edward had approached me first, he could have asked me for my social security number and I would have given it to him.
But offerings?
"People would… sacrifice other people to them?" I asked, vibrating with unease.
"Prisoners of war, slaves…" Marcus said dismissively. "As long as the Egyptians weren't killing them, they were more than happy to assist. After all, they were often, handsomely rewarded for their services."
My head jerked once, in grim understanding. Rewarded. Of course. There were people who would do anything to satisfy their material greed. Humans were… awful.
"And the Romanians?" I asked.
I was hoping to hear that they weren't like that. That they were at least, a hair more civilized than the Egyptians. At least, to the point where they wouldn't demand their human subjects drop dinner at their feet.
But I had no such luck.
"In many ways they were much worse," Marcus said.
And I had to repress the powerful urge to groan.
Of course, they were.
"They lived much like the Egyptians. Humans in their territory were aware that they were immortal, supernaturally strong and drank human blood. And despite this knowledge, the Romanians lived like royalty, abounding in ever increasing wealth. Everything they wanted came to them. Riches, prey, diplomats, those seeking their favor. They may not have posed as gods, the way the Egyptians did. But they were close enough—everyone wanted to appease them in whatever way they could. And they certainly thought it of themselves. They sat still for centuries, contemplating their own divinity."
Marcus shook his head ruefully.
"Why, some of the senior members of the coven even began to petrify, they were sitting still for so long."
I gasped. "Petrify?"
What, like a tree?
Marcus nodded. "Yes, it is an unfortunate thing that can happen to our skin if we do not move enough," he explained. "It creeps up on me from time to time."
I felt a wave of horror wash through me. "Is it reversible?"
"Oh yes," Marcus said quickly, and automatically I felt relieved. "A little exercise every few days is enough to keep it at bay. But when there is no commotion—no newborns to teach, no rules being broken, no new books to read, sometimes I am guilty of sitting quite still. And I do not realize I am beginning to petrify until it starts to impair my vision."
My eyebrows shot up. "Impair your vision?"
"I start to accumulate a thin, film of venom over my body," Marcus explained. "If it gets bad enough, my joints become stiff, and my eyes cloud over. One time I went completely blind because of it. But of course, I can see perfectly fine now."
He gestured to his eyes, bright crimson and cloudless.
I swallowed. That sounded uncomfortable.
"How do you fix it?"
"A good sprint usually does the trick. Though it can be painful at first, if my joints have petrified too much. And it is a bit frightening when you cannot see."
I nodded. It would be hard to run as fast as you could when you were suddenly, totally blind. Smacking a brick wall at the speeds a vampire could attain may not kill me anymore… but I couldn't imagine it would feel very good either.
"Do you think…?"
Marcus cut me off before I could finish. "You are unlikely to suffer from it. I'm sure Aro will keep you very busy."
"Right." I looked quickly down at my feet, then my eyes shot back up at Marcus. "Anyway, you were saying, about the Romanians…?"
"Ah yes," Marcus sighed, getting back on topic. "The Romanians were, to Aro, a disease. They corrupted everything within reach, twisting the worst of human greed to serve as their own vile amusements. Not just manipulating humans into offering others of their kind as prey. But making them kill their loved ones for late night entertainment."
I gasped in horror. They would do that?
"The Romanians were deranged," Marcus emphasized. "They enjoyed torturing humans psychologically. But also physically. If the humans refused to play their mind-games, they'd pluck out their eyes. Saw off their limbs. Force them to drink hot wax. Drive nails into their toes. Tear out their fingernails… All sorts of cruel things. All because the Romanians thought it was fun."
I shuddered at Marcus' graphic descriptions. How disgusting.
"Naturally, this kind of treatment earned the Romanians a lot of enemies," Marcus went on. "But every time the humans rose up to challenge them, they would slaughter all except a handful, which they would leave alive to spread the word. So, they quickly gained a fearsome reputation that even the bravest humans were unwilling to challenge for several centuries. And during that time, they prospered, growing their numbers, and continuing to live decadently in sordid, squandered wealth."
Marcus wrinkled his nose with distaste. And I couldn't help but agree. A group of vampires living like that repulsed me just as much as it repulsed him.
"So, what happened?" I begged to know. "What changed?"
I was assuming something must have, since I wasn't getting my fingernails ripped out right now.
"Eventually, Aro could not stand it," Marcus revealed. "He'd been amassing his own power from the very beginning, collecting those whose talents he thought he could use to build an empire. But it took him over fifteen-hundred years to finally have a coven of a large enough size, and with talents formidable enough to take on a coven of the Romanian's size."
"How many Romanians were there?" I asked.
"Forty-five or so, not including their human pets."
I stiffened. "Pets?"
"I told you they were deranged, did I not?" Marcus said, fractionally raising a dark eyebrow.
I nervously scratched my head. "Sure but…"
"I would have never imagined either, had I not witnessed for myself," Marcus assured me.
"So, after two-thousand years of waiting, Aro just… what… attacked the Romanians?" I asked.
"It was more of a prolonged conflict than a single battle," Marcus corrected. "He had their castle burned down first, which killed a few of them. But most scattered after that, and had to be hunted down, individually. Though, thanks to Demetri's gift, we did eventually get them all, some centuries later."
"Well, all besides Vladimir and Stefan," Marcus suddenly added. "Jane and Alec killed most of the rest of their coven after Demetri located them. But Aro thought we should keep those two alive to spread the word. A cruel irony, if you will."
I smiled wryly. Irony, indeed.
"And the Egyptians?"
"We went after them a hundred years after the siege on the Romanians," Marcus explained. "We were more prepared that time, and managed to keep most of the coven from escaping before we burned down their palaces with them inside. Though again, Aro chose to let two out of the thirty-six vampires—Amun and his mate Kebi—survive."
I sucked in a large breath of air. "So, some of both covens are still around?"
"A tiny number, compared to their original sizes," Marcus emphasized. "The Egyptians have grown back somewhat after striking a truce with us. Another mated pair lives with Amun now. And Amun and his own mate have children, and grandchildren."
I tried not to let that last bit of information shock me. Aro had shared that piece of information before. But it was still a little hard to believe. Vampire-born grandchildren?
"But the Romanians have remained at two for fifteen-hundred years," Marcus pointed out. "They have done nothing to try to increase their power since. Though, I suspect they know that if they ever tried without consulting us first, we would crush them again."
I nodded. That sounded like something Aro would do. At least, the side of him that was more ancient emperor than modern diplomatic leader.
"So, with the Romanians and Egyptians gone, what did you do next?" I asked, deadly curious.
"After our victories, we began enforcing our laws," Marcus explained. "It was not easy at first to promote the idea that secrecy from humankind was for our own good. It is hardly convenient to conceal ourselves from our prey. And most found the idea insulting at first. Bowing to the whims of our food."
I grimaced. I could see how that wouldn't go over well.
"But Aro can be quite persuasive when he wants to be," Marcus went on. "He promised life would be more comfortable for everyone this way—less human mobs, less inter-territory disputes, and so on. And those who disagreed did not live long to complain about it."
I shuddered. How harsh.
But then again, I wasn't sure if I could judge. If Aro hadn't killed all those people back then, the world might still have been overrun with unsecretive supernatural creatures. The Egyptians would still be worshipped, and sacrificed to. The Romanians would still torture people willy-nilly. Other groups like them might have risen up, too. And human happiness and advancement would be crippled by it.
So crippled, in fact, that the world might look something like what Alice was predicting would happen if we did not win this upcoming fight with the newborn army. An endless landscape of death and destruction.
So really, the Volturi had simply made the same choice I was making—the choice to kill a few to preserve the lives of many. And it would be hypocritical of me to criticize them for it.
"So, by the end of the new millennia, Aro had established the Volturi as the seat of authority in the supernatural world," Marcus finished.
I blinked, looking down at the journal on the writing desk. "Just six years ago?'
"No, not in the year two-thousand," Marcus said, tapping the page in front of him insistently. I peered down at the date as he did so, and realized my mistake. "Sorry, I sometimes forget it has been that long," he apologized. "A thousand years before that…"
"Oh." My eyes flicked over a few key dates in the journal again.
2500 BC – Amun, Kebi, and others formed the Egyptian Coven
1400BC – 1200BC – The Volturi family was formed.
1150BC – Aro romanced Sulpicia as a human, and had her changed into his mate.
1100BC – Chelsea a.k.a. Charmion became the first member of the Volturi guard. Marcus and Didyme began travelling the world together, only occasionally returning to Volterra.
1100 – 1000BC – Corin and several other vampires joined the Volturi guard.
1000 BC – Vladimir, Stefan, and others formed a coven in current Romania.
500 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Romanians. The Voturi began enforcing their laws.
600 AD – The Volturi laid siege on the Egyptian coven.
800 AD – Alec and Jane joined the Volturi guard.
1000 AD – Demetri joined the Volturi guard, hunted down the survivors from the previous wars. Two from each were left alive to spread the word. The Volturi gained undisputed, world-power.
When I was finished memorizing the dates—and that didn't take long, one look, and they were forever imprinted in my mind—I looked back up into Marcus' vibrant crimson eyes. Eyes that clashed interestingly with his dusky, dark skin, and long, wavy black hair.
"So, you guys have been in power for a thousand years?" I asked.
"Undisputed power for a thousand years," Marcus stressed. "And a bit shakier, but still world-wide power, for another five hundred before that."
I blinked rapidly. "Wow. That's…"
"A long time, yes," Marcus finished for me. "I can see how it would seem that way to you. But I am twice as old as this organization. So, it hardly seems that long to me."
I gawked. Then wondered, would I live long enough to feel the same way?
I wasn't sure. But I was starting to doubt it.
"So… why tell me all this?" I asked, sensing Marcus was more or less finished with his tale. At least for the day.
"Because it is imperative that you understand where we came from in order to understand where we are going," Marcus explained. "If Alec is right, and the Romanians are behind the upcoming newborn battle, or if it is the Egyptians, as another proposed, then it is best you understand why they have this vendetta against us, is it not? After all, we cannot afford to have you side with them."
I shook my head emphatically. "I would never…"
Marcus raised a dark eyebrow. "Now that you understand, of course not. But if you had met either of them, not knowing their history, could you honestly promise you would not be taken in by their lies? I believe you were taken in by the Cullens' lies quite effectively for some time…"
Marcus let the assumption hang in the air between us. And I clenched my fists at my side in frustration. He was right. I couldn't promise that. If the Romanians or Egyptians had seemed sincere enough—and I was a terrible lie detector—then, I would have bought whatever they told me. No matter whether or not it was total and utter bullshit.
"Is that all?" I asked, looking, embarrassed, at the floor.
"Yes," Marcus said. "I will teach you more another time. It seems Caius has come to collect you for the next portion of your training today."
My head shot up at that. Caius?
I gulped. Well, this was going to be… interesting.
…
As it so happened, Caius was waiting for me outside of the little room. He looked a little less contemptuous than usual—which is to say, only marginally pissed off. But more shocking than his unusual lack of anger, was his attire.
His lean frame was cased from wrist to ankle in tight, black fighting clothes made of a strange material that smelled synthetic. And his two bodyguards, flanking his sides, were clad entirely in the same thing. Something black and sturdy but stretchy too, mostly skin-tight, except for a few thicker patches around the neck and chest.
I wasn't sure if it was Kevlar or imitation leather or some other, hybrid synthetic fabric. Whatever it was, it looked particularly well-suited for heavy combat. Especially paired with long, powerful-looking lace-up boots. Of course, the black cloaks the three had thrown over them were a little less suited. And the delicate, silvery pendants gleaming around their necks seemed even less so. But still.
"Isabella," Caius said in a low, cold voice.
I jolted at the sound of my own name. Not because it was my full name—I had sort of accepted the idea that the Volturi were going to be calling me that from now on, even if it wasn't my favorite. But because it was my name at all, and not "the girl".
I guessed we were both the same species now, so whenever Caius spoke to me directly, I got the honor of a name. But it was still strange, coming from his chalk-white lips. I didn't think, even after a thousand years, I would ever get used to it.
"Come with me," Caius commanded, beckoning me with a slender finger.
Without any further introduction, he swiftly strode towards the end of the hallway. His powerful legs carried him rapidly over the stone floors. His bodyguards kept up, always hovering a few inches behind him like solid shadows. And I quickly matched their pace in order not to be left in the dust.
I had absolutely no clue where we were going. So, I simply followed his lead, reaching the end of the hallway, and descending several flights of spiral stairs. And hoped that we weren't going anywhere bad.
Maybe one of these days, I'd ask Aro for a map. I wouldn't need it for long—just a glance and I would have the entire layout of this labyrinth memorized. But without it, I was hopelessly lost. Everything in this fortress, thanks to the cinnamon brown brick everywhere, looked the same.
I started making plans to ask Aro about it, the next time I saw him, when we stepped off the staircase at the lowest level of the fortress. Directly in front of the last steps were a pair of heavy double doors. They looked like the gilded ones leading into the conference room, only they were not covered in gold, but intricate wooden carvings, and two large cast iron rings that served as door handles.
Caius grabbed both rings, and dramatically swung the doors wide open. The doors creaked with age, as they moved.
The room which Caius' theatric motion revealed was immense. Probably a whole football-field across. And just as high, if not higher than the tall ceiling in the turret room. Though here, there were no thin window slits cut into the wall, to throw rectangular patches of sunlight onto the floor. Instead a hundred, small, industrial lights were spaced evenly across the stone ceiling, producing a dim illumination that would have been difficult for humans to see in, but was perfect for us.
But more than the size, I was surprised to notice that every available surface besides the ceiling filled with lights, was covered in several-feet-thick, red plastic mats. Mats like the ones covering the wrestling room back at Forks High, only much thicker and more durable looking.
I squinted at the plastic coating everything. It seemed like an odd thing for the Volturi to have. And it almost made the room look like the inside of a bouncy castle. But, as I surveyed the room, I quickly learned why.
Volturi guard members were spread out on the padded floor, situated in pairs around the room. Each pair was locked in ardent one-on-one combat. Combat that mostly involved lunging, with snapping teeth, for their opponent's neck. But which also had them throwing punches and kicks. And tossing each other bodily against the floors and walls with such force it was certain to cause severe damage (both to the building and the guards) without the padding in place.
As it was, the shock-absorption was far from complete. I still felt tremors when my booted feet hit the mat as I followed Caius into the room. But I had the sense, given the violence I saw all around me, that the fortress walls and floors would crumble to pieces without the plastic mats in place. So, though they looked odd, I felt extremely grateful for their presence.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder, as the plastic squeaked under my feet, who made these things? Did the Volturi have some private contractor they employed to make their fighting clothes, shock-absorbing mats, and maybe some other things too, like the diamond soap, and Titania and Lucretia's lead, block toys? Or did the Volturi make all these things themselves?
Alice had said something earlier about her and Aro crafting the soap. Which leant itself to my second theory. But it was entirely possible that she simply meant they had come up with the formula, and sent it off to someone else to produce. She hadn't really gotten very specific about the process.
While I tried to parse it out, reviewing a thousand possibilities in my mind, Aro—who had been observing the fights from one of the far corners of the immense room—floated to my side, and began asking inane questions about my lesson with Marcus.
I tried to give him minimal responses, so I could focus the rest of my brain on thinking about the production of vampire-specific materials. But as he tagged alongside Caius and I, listening raptly to my short, three- or four-word answers about the Egyptians and the Romanians, I noticed something that gave me pause.
My new vampire brain was an impressive thing, really. It was so… big. I could compartmentalize things, and multitask with ease. So, I could keep up with Aro's questions, and focus on my footing so I wouldn't trip over the flat ground, and pay attention to my surroundings, and think about how the Volturi made the red mats beneath my feet, all at the same time. It was like I had several internet tabs open in my brain. And instead of flicking between them, I could access them all at once.
I marveled at my newfound brainpower for a minute. I'd thought all of my discoveries were over.
Then—while I gave Aro a longer answer to one of his questions about my lesson with Marcus, finding it surprisingly easy, even with everything else I was doing—I gave up trying to figure out how the Volturi made their shock-absorbing mats. I would never know unless I asked, anyway. And so, I focused the portion of my brain that I'd reserved for that on observing my surroundings a little more closely.
Caius marched in front of me, flanked by his bodyguards. And Aro hovered just inches from my side. But as I surveyed the room, I noticed that Aro's twin daughters, Lucretia and Titania, and Marcus, Sulpicia, and Athenodora, were nowhere to be found.
I guessed the rest of the Volturi family didn't fight.
But every member of the Volturi guard was here, dressed in the same, strange fighting clothes as Caius, and lunging furiously for their battle-partner's throats. Trying to seize them with their hard, pale fingers. Or rip into them directly with their razor-sharp teeth.
I watched with a mix of fascination and horror as Jane took on Chelsea. The taller, light-brown-haired woman strained not to collapse under the intense agony of Jane's stare. But, though Chelsea was still able to stand and throw punches, despite the pain, Jane deftly dodged all of her labored, ill-aimed attacks.
Corin, beside them, took on Demetri. And I was surprised to find the pair rather evenly matched. I hadn't expected the small, dark-haired woman to be much of a match for the tall tracker. But what she lacked in size and force, she more than made up for with agility and speed. Any time it seemed Demetri had his hands around her for sure, his fingers clenched around nothing but the air. And Corin was already behind him, having twisted out of the way.
Alec stood off to the left of both pairs with angry concentration etched into his young features. His boyish hands stood outstretched. And a thick, black gas oozed out of them, in chase of Makenna.
I watched with fascination as the dark miasma snaked across the floor towards Renata's great-grand-niece. So, this was the sensory depriving mist he'd mentioned before.
I'd never seen anything like it. And I shivered as I watched it move. It looked deadly—like toxic smoke, or oily ectoplasm. And it had a slightly sweet, strangely numbing scent—like chloroform. So, I didn't want to imagine what it might feel like touching me.
Though, frightening as it was, Alec's mist did appear to have one big weakness. It creeped slowly along the floor. And this made it easy to avoid. The moment it looked like it was about to coil around Makenna's legs, or pour over her head, she would dodge, almost effortlessly, out of the way.
I watched Makenna dodge a few more times—apparently not interested in trying to land any hits herself, only in avoiding Alec's mist—before my eyes flicked to a new pair of fighters. A few yards behind them, two female vampires were performing some serious gymnastics. I saw one cartwheel away when the other tried to seize her neck with powerful fingers. Then, when the first retaliated, I saw the other back-flip out of the way, just before her opponent's gnashing teeth closed around her.
Their flexible movements were performed in a way that I had only ever seen approximated in spy-movies. Initially, I was unsure who they were, because they wore tight black fighting pants and their hair was tied up to keep it out of the way, when I was used to seeing them in skirts with their hair down.
But I eventually recognized the pair as Heidi and Vera.
Once I knew who they were, I was even more surprised by the athleticism and viciousness of their combat. Because with all her allure, I hadn't really pegged Heidi for a fighter. And Vera was an irreplaceable asset to Aro, which I had assumed meant he wouldn't want her on the front lines.
Perhaps she acted like a military medic? Perhaps she fought when necessary, but her presence on the battlefield was mostly for the purpose of helping others?
I mulled it over. But just when I decided I couldn't really judge the wisdom of Aro's tactics without additional information, another of the skirmishes occurring throughout the room caught my attention.
On the other side of the room I saw Alice, fighting with Felix.
Felix was… losing. Which was surprising. He was so huge and muscular I would have thought someone as tiny as Alice would have been all too easy for him to defeat. And Alice wasn't exactly making it hard—she stood motionless, smiling to herself, with her eyes closed.
At least… that's what I had first thought. But when I looked more closely, I realized she was moving. Just not very far.
Whenever Felix lunged for her, she would take a small step or two forward, or back, left or right. Just enough to put her out of his path. So that Felix's hulking body would fly through the empty air she had once occupied.
If I hadn't seen Felix's teeth, glistening with venom, I might have thought she was doing a little dance—one step to the left, another back, two steps forward, two to the right, and so on. She looked so tranquil it was hard to remember Felix was trying to kill her.
Though his snarl of frustration as his grasping hands whistled past where her waist had been for the fifteenth time, was a good reminder. It made my alien skin prickle with misgiving.
Felix, realizing that lunging wasn't going to work out, got closer. But Alice didn't open her eyes, and only began to move faster. If her earlier movements had been dancing—this was the tango. She was spiraling and twisting, curling in on herself. And Felix was her unwitting partner, reaching through her graceful patterns, but never touching her, like every movement was choreographed.
They fought like this a while longer. I was impressed that my new eyes could keep up with their movements. I was certain, had I been still human, I would have only seen two dark blurs.
Then Alice giggled. The sound was beautiful, like the trilling of a flute mixed with the sound of carbonated bubbles fizzing over soda. But it was also strangely menacing. Probably because, knowing her, it must have meant she'd seen something in the future.
A moment later, I learned why she was laughing. Felix reached viciously for her midsection for what had to be the thirtieth time. But this time, instead of dodging out of the way, Alice hoisted her leg over him at the precise fraction of a second when he ducked to grab her. Then she pressed her foot into his shoulder. And used it to push the rest of her up, while forcing him down.
There was a dull thud as Felix' huge body went crashing down onto the mat. And miraculously, the padding beneath absorbed almost all of the impact's shockwave. But even more surprisingly, it seemed Felix was now trapped beneath the heels of Alice's boots.
She had one pressed into his neck, and the other planted firmly on his back. Felix struggled avidly for a bit to try to escape. But as he wiggled vainly about, bucking and cursing under his breath in Italian, the boots over him didn't move in the slightest.
It stunned me that Alice—such a slender woman—had been able to put so much power into her legs. Because if Felix couldn't shake it, then it must have been very strong.
I stood ramrod-still in shock at Alice's strength. And I didn't breathe as I watched Felix pitifully try to wriggle his hands free in order to defend himself. Then, suddenly, Alice dipped her head, poising her teeth over his neck. And I gasped in horror.
She was going to kill him!
Felix seemed to realize this about the same time I did. Then, somewhat reluctantly, he cried out: "Pieta!"
I cringed and steeled myself for the worst, expecting his cry to be for naught. But I was surprised as this one simple word seemed to freeze Alice's movements immediately. She smiled smugly, and pulled back before taking her boot off his neck, and stepping down onto the mat at his side.
Felix cursed in Italian. But as he slowly sat up, it was clear that his anger was self-directed. That he was more upset that he had lost, than at Alice for nearly biting his head off.
And it was in that moment that I realized—feeling rather stupid for not thinking of this earlier—that the pairs must not actually be fighting to the death. Rather, they must be fighting only until the other conceded defeat. Which most wouldn't do, except until moments before they were about to be brutally torn apart.
Defensively, I curled my fingers around my neck. I knew getting ripped up wouldn't kill vampires. Only fire could deal the final blow. And thankfully, nothing of the sort could be found anywhere in the room. But I imagined it was still incredibly painful to have one's head forcibly removed from their body.
Noticing my look of horrified shock, Aro soothingly rubbed my arm. And I nearly jumped out of my skin. I'd almost completely forgotten he was there. So intense was my concentration on Alice and Felix's fight.
But his caressing fingers glided gently over the frilly sleeve of my Alice-approved shirt, calming me. And my brain processed the lack of immediate danger a lot faster now. So, I was able to keep myself from flinching away from him, and even managed to school my expression into one of deferential curiosity before Aro turned to me, dropped his hand, and smiled.
"Shall we begin, Isabella?" he asked, gesturing towards the middle of the combat room.
Finding myself speechless in shock, I blinked once; twice. I found it hard to believe that he would throw me into the middle of intense combat with absolutely no training. Sink-or-swim teaching wasn't really his style. Or at least it hadn't been, up to this point.
Our entire interaction in the turret room four days ago had consisted of him giving me all the information I needed to make the best, most informed decision. And everything I needed to be fully prepared to deal with the consequences of my choice. Even when it had come to the act of feeding—a concept which was completely impossible to practice beforehand—he had still given me the best preparation he could.
But now he's switching tactics?
I gaped at him stupidly, like a fish for a moment. And during that time, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chelsea crumpling to the floor under the severe, unblinking gaze of Jane. She too cried out "Pieta" to halt her attacker's movements. And remarkably, the cruel little blonde froze immediately, before cracking a wicked smile and sauntering off triumphantly toward the back wall.
There were two or three cloaked bodies back there, I suddenly realized. Alice stood at the front—the first to win her fight. And the others must be the other victors, I rationalized, as Jane went to go stand with them.
But before I could get a good look at their faces, some curt words from Caius, standing ahead of Aro and I, flanked by his two Asian bodyguards, pulled my attention sharply back to my new masters.
"Yes, let us get started," Caius said.
I felt a surge of fear.
Fight? Now? Without any training?
"But I don't have any idea how to fight!" I protested frantically, my fear making me forget everything Aro had taught me about my manners. About not questioning their commands. "…Shouldn't I at least learn some moves first?"
I balled my hands into loose fists and made little punching motions in the air to show how juvenile and pathetic my combat technique was at this point. But Caius only narrowed his eyes.
"Today, I would like to see how you naturally fight," he explained as though it should be obvious.
I frowned and let my hands fall to my sides. I failed to see how putting my uncontrollable strength and complete unfamiliarity with fighting to the test would help anyone. Especially him.
But I wasn't about to argue with him. Aro had impressed upon me earlier that it wasn't good manners to object. And even if the matter was up for debate, that wasn't an argument I was likely to win.
"During later sessions of course, I will provide more guided instruction," Caius informed me, after Aro gave him a look, pleading for compassion on my behalf. "But for now, I simply want you to follow your instincts. The guard needs more training fighting against unpracticed newborns such as yourself, after all. Since Alice has predicted those will be our enemies."
I nodded. Then sent an appreciative look toward Aro for making Caius explain. That made sense.
"First, however," Caius said, "You need to understand the rules."
"Rules?"
I turned suddenly to look at all the one-on-one skirmishes occurring around me again, trying to find any evidence of restraint. But as I watched, I found it hard to believe there were any rules. Everything was so… lawless.
The fighting-gear-clad pairs lunged savagely for each other, like lions trying to tear each other apart with their teeth or claws. Bodies hit the floor with incredible force, shaking the plastic beneath my feet. Hard hands groped for appendages they could tear from their sockets. Jaws snapped shut just millimeters away from vulnerable skin. And animalistic growls punctuated the air.
I turned back to Caius, wearing a skeptical expression. Because as far as I could tell, the only rule was to try your hardest to murder your opponent before they murdered you.
"As Felix and Alice demonstrated, we do not fight to the death. Only until one concedes defeat," Caius explained.
I nodded. "I gathered as much. But what's with yelling pay-tuh… er… pee-yay-tuh?" I enquired, struggling to wrap my mouth around the foreign word.
"Pieta," Caius corrected, each syllable flowing with flawless ease.
"Pieta roughly translates to 'mercy' in English," Aro contributed, for which I would be sure to thank him profusely for later. I hadn't had any Italian lessons from Heidi yet, so I had been wondering what that was about. And now it all made sense.
"Oh, so you cry 'mercy' when you're about to die, and your opponent just stops?" I simplified aloud, just to be certain I fully grasped the concept.
Aro nodded and grinned. "Although, die is a bit drastic, I think," he countered after a thoughtful moment, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder again. "Having your head removed from your body will not kill you, so you need not fear that itself," he clarified. "But it is rather incapacitating," he warned. "So, I would advise not allowing it to happen to you in the midst of combat with an actual enemy."
My head bobbed vigorously. That made sense. I imagined, once you lost your head, barring exceptional circumstances, you were done for.
"Okay, but other than that, there aren't really any rules, right? I mean, it looks like all powers are fair game," I noted.
I looked toward Alec and Makenna, who were still at an impasse. Makenna kept barely escaping the reach of his sensory depriving cloud. And, as I watched a bit closer, I realized she was also using her power of deflection to keep him from grabbing her and rooting her in place so his gift could catch up. Every time Alec tried to kick her, or swipe at her, his hand or foot would suddenly hesitate at the last minute. And it was starting to make him visibly angry.
"Of course. Learning to use our gifts offensively is vital," Aro said, also watching the pair with marked interest. "However, there is one final rule. More of a procedural one. Which is that we typically spar in rounds."
Aro pointed towards the far wall where Alice, Jane, Vera, Renata, and a few other guards stood resolutely in a victorious line. I recognized the small Japanese woman—Yuki—as one of the Volturi's lower-ranking guards. Kadir, the middle-eastern man, also from the fourth row of our induction line-up, stood next to her. And one of Marcus' African bodyguards—either Kofe or Wambua, since I hadn't figured out which was which—stood at the very end of the line.
"Once the victors of this round have all lined up on that wall, they pair off to fight one another, and those who conceded defeat pair amongst themselves," Aro explained.
He pointed to another, much less organized line, on the other side of the room. Everyone stood, huddled awkwardly together, with downcast eyes. Like they were deeply ashamed of having to stand in the loser line, rather than the victor line opposite them.
Felix, of course, stood first in line, his fists clenched tightly at his sides in self-directed frustration. The others were in less clear of an order. But I recognized Petra from her unusual freckles, standing timidly near the back. And next to two dark-skinned vampires—one of which must be the other of Marcus' bodyguards, and the other Xavier—Afton was doing his very best to be invisible.
It wasn't very effective. I could see him just fine. Better than Aro could. There was no transparent silhouette with little artefacts of light bending around it. Instead, he was totally solid, and opaque, just like everyone else.
But maybe his powers didn't work on me? Hell, if I knew.
"Eventually," Aro went on, "the idea is to find a sparring partner with whom you are rather evenly matched."
"That makes sense," I conceded. "So now what?"
Just after I asked the question, Demetri finally subdued Corin. She screamed "pieta!" just nanoseconds before Demetri's vicious teeth would have sank into her neck. And, looking around, I realized that left Alec and Makenna as the only unfinished pair on the floor.
"Alec, Makenna," Caius barked suddenly. He whipped around to face the pair.
They obediently froze mid-fight. And looked towards their master, dutifully awaiting his orders.
"That's enough. Call it a draw."
The duo looked very much like they did not want to call it a draw. Like they wanted instead to persist in battling one another so they could determine a true victor. But after sending each other fleeting disparaging glances, they complied.
It took a few moments for Alec's sluggish black gas to seep completely back into the skin of his hands. And I wondered, as it trailed lazily around the room in oozing, snake-like ropes, why it was so slow. Most other vampire gifts worked instantaneously. So, what made his different?
I fervidly hoped that he wasn't running out of energy. I knew all too well what vampires had to do when they used their powers too much.
But while I worried for his health, Caius directed his piercing gaze towards the fourth person standing in the victor's line. And his icy voice silenced my anxious thoughts.
"Renata, challenge Isabella."