Decisions had always been one of Aro's hardest responsibilities. For centuries, his decisions had had consequences to hundreds of people, so he had learned to consider carefully and to tame his ego.
His ego, always growing and constantly telling him he was strong, he was great, he should be worshipped, people should bow to him, they should quiver in fear at the mere suspicion of his presence. Every time a decision was to be made, he had to reason with himself and hold back his sense of self importance. To keep it tame and under control, he had found he had to submit to it in other ways or it escaped his reign and acted out in feats equal to hubris, worthy of nemesis.
Decisions were always hard.
Should he break Carlisle's trust, or should he break his own promise?
I'll stay with you forever. I'll never hurt you.
His ego was presenting an irresistible solution.
.
Four days. That was all he had left in this life. Unchangeable, unstoppable and irreversible Time had decided so. Four days.
He was detached from his body, seeing everything through a hazy lens. His essence was preparing for departure, making everything so much harder. Disconnected from the physical, too lost in his mind and his ego was loud and relentless and offering a solution.
It would have been easy.
.
Carlisle leaned to kiss him, his hands always gentle but sure in what they wanted. Aro smiled and let himself be pushed back. He let his fangs down, grazing Carlisle's lips and moved lower, sucking softly on every inch of skin. He wrapped his lips tightly around Carlisle's throat, using his sharp fangs to keep him still and sucked.
It would have been easy. All he had to do is press just a little harder with his teeth.
Carlisle moaned softly and Aro released him, moving back up to meet his lips.
But there were so many ways to do it. His ego kept telling him to break his trust and not the promise.
He could bind a demon to his intention and have them take Carlisle's soul. Easy and simple.
He could force Carlisle's heart to stop and he could drain all his blood, keep him suspended in the in-between until his consciousness gave up.
Since trust can never be truly rebuilt and broken promises can never be quite forgiven, if Carlisle was dead before Aro, forever would have been fulfilled.
.
And it would have been easy.
Even as they were walking down the streets downtown, a mortal with a lit cigarette would be enough for Aro to force an ignition and kill them both instantly. It would not matter that people would see. That insane fool, Lucas, had single-handedly torn down centuries of a greatly kept secret. And Aro would have loved to go down in flames. It always looked spectacular.
But then he heard Caius and Marcus had been captured, how in all the realms had that happened, he could not believe. All he knew is that it meant he couldn't die with Carlisle. No. He had to free his brothers and die there.
Cursed number four.
.
Still, he could end his beloved's life before his own. Still, he could keep his promise and he could grant Carlisle his so craved paradise.
Except...
He wasn't sure what would happen to Carlisle's soul. He couldn't possibly know this, and if Kleo knew, they did not reveal.
The thought of being the one to finally condemn his Lilo to an eternity of suffering, along with the other demons and monsters of hell was unbearable.
But it would have been easy.
And he was devastatingly aware of how much power he had, of how much Carlisle trusted him, of how much he wanted to end Carlisle's life to satisfy his ego.
.
Too detached from his body to let the experience of Carlisle wrapped tightly around him bring his reason back, his movements never stuttered when his hands found their way to Carlisle's hair and neck. He even quickened his pace, and his hand tightened around the blond's neck little by little. Tight enough to feel Carlisle's slow, soft heartbeat. Aro had no sense of reason to hesitate. Tight enough to feel his blood run along his veins, underneath his skin. He picked up his pace, chasing the perfect timing, wanting to do it right at the end.
"Ah, love, slow down," Carlisle had whispered and Aro immediately released his hands, moving them lower, where they were needed.
.
So now, his decision had ended up breaking both Carlisle's trust and his promise. And he had never been more displeased with an outcome.
In Kleo's realm, the safest place possibly in the entire Everywhere, he stood, unable to relax and do what Kleo was showing him. Too tense, too upset about Carlisle's current state and fully aware the blame was solely his.
Kleo removed the energy from Aro's shaking hands. "There is nothing in that realm for you anymore, Aro. Let go."
Aro felt his chest stir in anger.
Kleo claimed he should not have feelings so long after his death. It was not unheard of but pointless and it was holding him back.
Aro disagreed. These feelings that Kleo was so unfamiliar with, were his entire drive. Without them, without their intensity, he would have let himself go numb centuries ago.
"Can you tell me one thing?" he asked.
Kleo sighed, and Aro wasn't sure if that was an indication his behaviour and very mortal mannerisms were affecting the entity.
"Perhaps," Kleo said.
It was one their favourite words to use Aro had come to find. Indirect answers were all he ever got, because supposedly he wasn't ready to know of things yet.
"Will he find his next soulmate?"
Kleo looked at the white smoke they had taken back from Aro. White smoke, light energy, the first step.
"There are few gods that can create new souls. One of them is your vampire's god, although they are not the only creator. What you are referring to as a soulmate can be one of two things." They lifted the smoke upwards, let it twirl and flutter freely for a moment before gathering it back.
"A creator can make two souls resemble each other on purpose."
Aro gave them a moment more before his curiosity grew out of his control. "Or?"
"Every time a human dies, their soul returns to its creator. Before sending it back down, the god splits it inside two people. These two people are soulmates as well, only this time, they are not to resemble each other, they are to be one." They flicked one wrist outwards and the smoke twisted around itself, tightening into a spiral.
"I have heard most creators find it entertaining to split souls and watch them scramble to find their other half." They looked at Aro with their strange, white stare. "Souls are alive Aro, they feel pain."
Aro couldn't keep their gaze, opting to look at the ground between them. He felt guilt. Crushing and condemning guilt.
"If the soul finds its other half, the god reunites it with itself. If not, the god splits it further and the cycle begins again."
Aro thought about the new information. Multiple soulmates, further split souls. Easier to find part of the whole, harder to be whole.
"However, Aro," Kleo returned their attention to the rising smoke and pulled it downwards slowly. It seemed to bend so easily to their command. "Your vampire is not a split soul."
Aro lifted his gaze now, met the white stare and then watched the white smoke that had gathered in a tight ball between Kleo's palms, putting the pieces together.
"I was the only one." Impossibly heavy and unbearably thick guilt.
"You too are an unsplit soul."
Kleo slowly reached their hands forward, meaning for Aro to take the smoke again, meaning the conversation was over.
Carlisle's only hope was that a creator made another soul for him? How pitiful.
Aro trembled at the thought.
"No mortal must know of this. That is what is funny to the gods." Kleo offered, seeing Aro was still not taking the smoke back.
Aro reached one hand forward, but let it drop before touching the energy. Would he have chosen to keep working with Kleo had he known this?
No.
He would have chosen to stay on the mortal realm and die with Carlisle. It all seemed so unfair. Unfair for him, when he was on his own for two millennia and now it would be unfair for Carlisle.
"I have heard that when a human comes close to the truth the gods take them up in a hurry and exterminate the soul," Kleo said, intending to ease Aro's concerns.
"That sounds cruel," Aro said quietly, finally letting his fingertips touch the white smoke, allowing the energy to flow to him.
"Did you assume that creators are anything but cruel? Why then so many of us, non creators gather souls with such vigour?"
Kleo bent their fingers in the way they wanted Aro to do so and the witch copied them.
.
~l~o~l~o~l~o~
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Carlisle was sitting with his back against the wall, facing the sliding door, his attention unwavering. His veins burned, his throat felt impossibly dry, and his hands, tightly clenched into fists, were shaking.
Ungrateful.
The word was repeated in his mind in many different voices, and he had trouble identifying his own from the others.
He was thinking about Aro's words, about how he had told Carlisle to do whatever it took to get out of this place. Carlisle was keeping his fists closed, fighting to accept the idea that he would have to talk about Aro. He didn't want to. In fact, he never wanted to mention him again. He wanted to forget him, he wanted to forget himself if that was what it took.
He needed to get away, but he could not justify taking any more lives on his way out.
UngratefulHUNGRY.
Carlisle was pulled from his thoughts by the word. That one was definitely spoken in his own voice.
I am hungry.
His voice said again. He swallowed, feeling his throat scratch, tasting like blood, his blood, as if his throat had teared in places. He was up without his consent, almost without his awareness. A growl left his chest, quiet, testing and in a second he was across the room, his hands pressing against the door. A louder growl.
"I am thirsty!" The words left his lips without consulting his mind, in a voice he wasn't sure he recognised. Another growl, this time very loud.
Loud enough for the guards outside to hear him. "Shut up."
Carlisle took back control of his body for a second and stepped away from the wall.
Losing command of my body. Oh no... Overridden by instincts. Oh no...
"I. Am. Thirsty." His own voice said again, immediately following it with a growl.
The guards outside felt the bone chilling fear of being in the presence of a predator for the first time. They pulled out their weapons, knowing they offered little protection and shared a look.
.
~l~o~l~o~l~o~
.
Aro had been a witch since he was mortal. Turning into a vampire only made him stronger. He was experienced, and knowledgeable and used everything he had to his advantage. He had worked with patrons but never managed to stay with them for long. Usually they taught him a specific skill and left. He had long ago abandoned the search of why that was and instead began entering the realm of the unseen.
Fending off a few shadows with relative ease, was the first time Kleo approached him. All dark and malicious energy around him evaporating.
"Thank you," Aro said, partly offended for the help but knowing it was always best to show respect.
"Child, it was not the shadows I protected you from, but these," the entity lifted one hand, casting light everywhere and exposing what was hiding in the dark.
Aro stood still, shaken, terrified. Leeches, worms and larceners. Everywhere. Surrounding him. And he had been completely unaware. He had believed that such dark energies refrained from this low level of the realm.
"Thank you," he said again, this time earnestly.
"Tell me your name, child."
Aro stuttered. Giving out his name would be dangerous but he felt he was already in debt. "Aro."
"Aro, young witch, call my name when you are stronger, not a day earlier," the entity said.
"And what name should I call?"
"Kleo," the entity said and vanished, forcing Aro back to the mortal realm.
When Aro opened his eyes, Caius was in his circle, leaning over him, worried and scared.
"Aro? Is it you, are you back?" he asked.
The witch blinked and looked around at the mess of his tent. Spilled weeds and liquids, broken jars, furiously strong candle flames, misplaced clothes and his cat, Sekhmet, tightly pressed against his lap, purring loudly. His brother's worry had been fair.
"Yes, brother it is I. Test me however you like, but please, I think first I will rest," Aro said and fell into his brother's embrace, asleep, drained.
A full day's worth of sleep later Aro told his brothers everything. Particularly of how foolish he was to enter the realm so carelessly and how weak a witch he was in fact. He told them of this entity that had supposedly saved him, and the three vampires, together for barely 5 years then, promised to scavenge the world to find mention of that name, Kleo.
They traveled together, never parting their ways, still too weak to wander on their own.
.
.
In the middle of Persia, they found Athenadora, the wife of the Grand Major.
Caius heard her while speaking with the man, promising he and his brothers would make great guests if they were allowed to talk to the priestesses of the emperor. A good guest is one who leaves gifts to the host. One who leaves gold.
None of the three vampires had any gold, but none of them was against stealing either. The major agreed to let the three men stay, promising accomodations and comforts. But Caius heard Athenadora, and suddenly Aro's problem with that entity was no longer his concern. His soulmate, he had found his soulmate.
He did nothing to help their research, and while Aro was occupied with the priests and priestesses of the palace, forming a way of communication and while Marcus was blending in with the people to see what they had to offer in the form of experiences, their one translator and fighter, was busy trying to catch the major's wife's interest. And by the time Aro and Marcus decided they had gotten all they could from the people of central Persia, Caius had managed to convince Athenadora to run away with them.
And none of them were opposed to stealing. So as a parting gift, they gave the major gold, and Caius stole his wife.
The three vampires, and one soon-to-be-turned human, left with no further information on Kleo. All Aro had learned was about the power of gold and how to harvest it. He made them all of a golden ring that hid them from the sun.
It worked for years, until Aro accidentally angered Mithra. The god promised he would not let Aro settle anywhere the sun could reach and it took a lot of sacrifices on Aro's part to be excused from his transgressions. It was mostly plants that Aro would take care of in the name of Mithra, and promises of not hiding his skin again. The second promise was a lot harder to keep, but in the end, Mithra was satisfied and built a fair relation with the witch.
.
After Persia, they moved North, staying away from the coast, wanting to find people unaffected by the Roman and Parthian influences. And there, hidden among the hills and valleys of Caucasus, a small town lay. When they approached to introduce themselves, Aro stood shocked, in complete disbelief. There was a vampire there.
Beneath a scent of immortal venom, a very familiar smell surrounded him, one that he couldn't place at first. A woman, one who stepped forward in equal disbelief, smelled like hyacinth and lily and Aro felt that he knew the smell. He ached to touch the woman's hand, wondering if he would find himself in her memories when she spoke.
"Brother?" she asked in a strange language and Aro faltered. It was the language of his small people, a language already dead.
"Sister?" he asked.
Aro couldn't quite believe it. If the woman in front of him was his sister, she must be one of the youngest ones, because he did not recognise her by appearance alone. If Aro had left their home when she was less than a toddler, she too, must not recognise his face.
"I am Didyme," the woman said and took a step towards him. Aro blinked. Didyme? The youngest one of his sisters, as far as he knew. He barely remembered his, now apparently their, mother holding a baby in her arms as she waved him farewell.
"I am Aro," he said, hoping now that someone had talked about him to his sisters. Maybe, his younger brother? Maybe his older sister?
Didyme smiled, in semi recognition.
"Tell me brother what has come to find you, and I will tell you what has come to find me."
.
He and his sister had been bitten by the same vampire, they realised, perhaps because their blood was similar and their maker had a taste for it. Didyme had been married to a Roman, which granted her a lot of Roman advantages Aro never had, one of them being the chance to learn to read and write. And contrary to her brother, Didyme had kept communication with both their mother and their other sisters, something Aro hadn't been able to do. The moment he had been sent by their father to work, he technically had had no family until he would make his own.
But Didyme was smart, smarter than Aro, and she had made sure she traveled home often, exploiting her husband's love for her.
"I convinced him to bring our grandmother to Rome," she told Aro with a smug smile.
Aro couldn't truly react, he didn't know what would be appropriate. Their grandmother, who they both had gotten their witch blood from. Their grandmother who spoke Greek, Roman, Persian, Phoenician and their tongue. He was excited and scared.
"I know how to read and write it," she said and watched her brother's interest rise. "I can teach you."
She said their gods could only be called if the right words were used. The right words, of course being in their tongue, that no one spoke anymore, that no one knew how to read anymore because of the damned Persians and then Greeks and then Romans.
Aro had been ecstatic to have found Didyme again. She was strong and more experienced than him. She hadn't had to guess her way to the gods, having their grandmother as a guide. He easily let her guide him to their first and true gods.
.
"Sister, you who have traveled such a long way from Rome, who had our grandmother's aid and guidance, tell me, I beg you, what does the name Kleo mean to you," Aro had asked her after almost a year of traveling together.
Didyme had taken moments to think, but came up empty. "Nothing, brother."
Aro wanted not to be disappointed, but it was getting harder by each fruitless search. He told her about the entity, about her command, discouraged, ready to give up his efforts.
"Perhaps, the demand is more literal than you assume, brother. Perhaps to grow stronger, you must acquire power in the mortal way. Maybe you must make more vampires."
So the now 5 vampires did exactly that. They turned vampires, they found others, strong ones, excellent fighters, gifted ones. And at the same time, Aro learned to better shield himself, on the chance that Kleo was malicious after all.
Soon, a rumor spread, about a group of vampires who were raising a small army, for an unknown cause. The Volturi.
Aro liked the name, it had a certain easy sound to it even though it meant nothing in particular. It tended to stick to the mind.
The three sworn brothers decided they should have a permanent place of residence. One that could protect them from exposure to the mortals, and at the same time keep the small, but ever growing guard of vampires close to one another.
They settled on Volaterrae , thought the name was hilariously convenient and built the palace. They turned more vampires, and were joined by others, slowly but steadily, they were growing strong.
.
Aro then decided to go to the Norse people, hoping they had perhaps some answers. Perhaps Kleo was one of their entities. In this travel his brothers remained in Volterra, their role as leaders too time consuming and too demanding of their presence. He was accompanied only by two guards. The only two that could be trusted already.
He found no answers in the north, but he found Sulpicia. And for the first time since he was human, he felt his heart stir and clench and he fell harder than he thought was possible for someone who wasn't actually his soulmate. What was such a gentle woman with noble blood doing so far north, with these Barbarian mortals?
But perhaps he had been too strict, his sight restricted by jealousy, because she appeared to be genuinely happy and the Norse folk were nothing but respectful to the stranger from Rome who looked not Roman at all.
He touched many of the men in greeting, stealing a few precious information from their heads about this breath-taking woman just to make an impression. He found that she cared not for gold, nor power, nor fame, for she had all three here in the North. And when he finally was to meet her, he spoke in her language, hoping to charm her with his wit alone.
"I hope in all gods, that you shall excuse my forward manner, but I can refrain not from expressing this thought, and I beg you to hear me, for I only speak the truth as I see it. I hereby confess in absolute certainty, that any poet throughout history and all over this world must have had your image in their mind when they composed their finest words."
Sulpicia laughed, secretly flattered and Aro felt his slow, faint heart-beat tremble wildly.
"If it is as you claim, I challenge you then, Southern man of high sense of self, to write me words, for if the poets could do it with a phantom, then surely you could do better, since you have the physical supposed inspiration before your eyes.
Aro smiled, bowed his head to her beauty and command. "I shall try, fair lady, but I could never hope, my humble words to do you justice."
Sulpicia enjoyed tormenting Aro with ridiculous feats, and she enjoyed it even more when Aro succeeded against all odds. His time in the North was spent more in trying to find ways to be in Sulpicia's interests and less in learning about the Norse gods.
Sulpicia too, was falling, slowly but surely for the mad Southerner who would do anything she demanded of him.
So, one late night, after Aro had asked her to follow him back south, she was discussing the matter with her cat.
"What should I do Sekhmet?"
She didn't want to leave the people here, they were kind and loyal to her, and she led a life of peace. They had accepted her even though she drank their blood, they claimed she made them stronger by giving them drops of her own. And Sulpicia had never once killed one of them because of her thirst.
Aro had announced his arrival, back from the northest, coldest, least welcoming lake of the North, where she had sent him this time, in a pointless attempt to retrieve her brother's sword, claiming she had abandoned it after her brother's death in a terrible battle long ago. There was no battle, she had no brother, yet Aro entered her chambers, holding a sword, made entirely from black stone.
"I found nothing, noble woman, but I thought it unacceptable to return with empty hands, so I made this for you, from the stone you claim he died upon. I hope it is adequate to honour your brother," Aro said, knowing that Sulpicia had no brother.
He had spent an entire day in the northest lake, carving it with his own hands, hoping it would impress her. Sulpicia had smiled, stroking the cat's glistening fur when the little beast stood, stretched, and made its way to Aro, slipping between his feet, and wrapping its tail around his calf. Aro looked at the animal that purred on his foot and he knew. He looked up at Sulpicia, wearing the happiest smile he had.
"I will follow you to Rome," Sulpicia said and Aro felt he was the sole king of the world hearing those words.
He confessed to her everything about himself, his gift, everything about the Volturi, and the guards in a very foolish way, in a very dangerous way. He was sure if Caius knew what he was telling her, he would have executed him. But, gods, Caius wasn't there and in fact, Aro was very willing to give his life for Sulpicia.
So when he returned to Volterra, he brought with him a lover, and a few Norse folk who had sworn their lives to protect the Spanish goddess, the knowledge of how to drink from a human and keep them alive, and a cat.
And then, he called Kleo.
.
~l~o~l~o~l~o~
.
"If I open the door, will you behave?" the agent asked, very skilled in working with a raging headache. He had returned from Europe mere hours ago when the guards called him. He was exhausted but it didn't matter. They hadn't woken him. He never slept anymore.
"Don't come in!" Carlisle rushed to say before he lost control again and sure enough, his words were drowned by an aggressive growl that anyone could understand meant danger.
The agent nodded to the guards who pressed a few buttons, turned some nubs. A groan was now heard from inside the box, almost resembling pain, most likely discomfort. The agent released the lock and the heavy door slid open. He stepped inside and the door reversed its course, stopping before being fully shut, allowing some light in, but not enough space for either man to squeeze out of.
The agent remained still, taking the time he needed for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The silence was sharp. It made him feel like prey being watched, observed, calculated. He finally located the vampire, stuck to the far wall by the band around his waist.
He was indeed being watched, by an unblinking, black set of eyes. He took a step closer and the vampire did not stir, blending in with the walls. The agent lost sight of him, even though he knew exactly where to look. He took another step and Carlisle pushed himself straight and away from the approaching man, exposing his position.
"Stay away," he said through gritted teeth, even when his arms reacted on their own and reached to grab the man.
But the agent was too far away, and the handcuffs Carlisle was wearing worked excellently.
The agent took another step forward, now too close to the vampire, gambling his life for the chance to taunt.
Carlisle was struggling against the force that kept his hands stuck to his middle, and he was struggling to restrain himself from reaching forward to bite. He turned his head violently to the side, his fangs dropped down forcing him to part his lips so as not to tear them. A rumbling sound escaped his throat.
"I'll take the blood," he said to the wall and held himself back with every last ounce of his power.
The agent inspected him for a moment longer.
"Please," Carlisle added counting the seconds until his thirst would overpower his will.
The agent turned on his heels, made his way to the door.