Part 3: Luanda Magere
Chapter 24: Alive
Edward Cullen struggled to open his eyes. His head pounded as if being struck by a thousand hammers. He could feel liquid dribbling down his burning throat and someone holding up his head. He swallowed and buried his head in his hands again, dropping his eyelids closed as if compelled by magnets. A few hours later, more liquid came. And again and again it continued, though time long ago lost its meaning for him.
His consciousness ebbed slowly, growing in clarity as the sun circled the earth and shed light on his internal and external surroundings. A chorus of weaver birds chirruped outside and he opened his eyes. He felt as though he'd been asleep, though he knew that to be impossible. Still he could not state with certainty that he had been awake either.
Dawn poured through an open doorway; black silhouettes of flamingos, mountains, and tree branches were illuminated by golden, rose, and taupe streaks across the sky. His nostrils filled with fresh, warm, humid, sticky air, a welcome relief after the long, long years of stale underground mold. Questions niggled at his momentary rush of relief. Where was he? How had he escape Volterra? Why was he here?
These questions would have to remain for the moment as he found himself strangely isolated. Was it silent because he was alone or because he could not hear? His physical ears heard footsteps and someone humming a simple melody nearby, but he could not hear a single thought. He sat up and rubbed his cool forehead, wishing the action would clear the thickly threaded tension from his mind.
He noted now that he sat in a grass thatched hut on a simple foam mattress covered with a plaid blanket. He wore a clean, embroidered white shirt and black pants. He turned and found a cup full of blood sitting by his head, still warm. He quickly drank it, reveling in the feel of life flowing back into his tendons and sinews. It spoke to the desperation of his thirst that his body would accept this source of food. He still felt as parched and as dry as a desert floor, but his thoughts, at least, had returned to coherency, even if his thoughts remained the only ones he could hear.
A man entered through the open door, carrying another cup in his hand. His face showed the growth of a few days beard, brown hair hanging in loose tendrils around his face. He wore a plaid blanket similar to the one Edward sat upon. One arm gleamed silver in the dawning sun. The way he walked, the scars glistening on his tan skin, his wary eyes that spoke the words he kept his mouth from speaking, it all reminded Edward of his brother, Jasper. A soldier, he thought to himself. Or he was once a soldier.
"You are awake," the man said.
"Yes," Edward replied, wondering how long this man had tended to him. How did he know what to feed him?
"How are you feeling?"
"Much improved, I think," he replied. "Who are you and where am I?"
"My name is Bucky Barnes," the man replied. "And you are in the kingdom of Wakanda."
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Bucky continued to bring Edward cups of blood for two more days until Edward assured him he was well enough to hunt for himself. Edward sat on his mattress, overlooking the lake, trying to gather his thoughts, but it felt like trying to gather ladybugs that escaped from a jar.
Three more dawns came and went; Bucky came and went with them. He remained mostly silent and wary. It was the silence that niggled on Edward. He could not hear the man's thoughts. And his smell. It wasn't quite right-like a human who had gone slightly stale or been over spiced. The man did not seem to fear him, simply maintained his distance.
The evening of the third day, Bucky returned. He came accompanied by a tall, African man dressed in an embroidered shirt, similar to the one Edward found on himself. They came and sat on the floor inside his hut.
He felt even more disconcerted as he realized he could not read this new mind either. His head no longer throbbed, but his gift had not returned. Had his time of deprivation somehow damaged him? He felt unsettled and even more vulnerable than when he woke to find himself being nursed back to health by a human.
"Edward, this is T'Challa, King of Wakanda," Bucky said in introduction. "We have some questions for you."
Edward nodded.
"Do you remember how you left Volterra?" Bucky asked.
"No," he said, his most recent memories seemed dark and befuddled, hidden in thirst and grief. "Why am I here?"
"You are here because the Volturi kidnapped the princess of Wakanda along with Bucky here and another of our citizens. When I approached the Volturi to negotiate their release, we included you in our terms," T'Challa said. His voice and mannerisms all bespoke of a man familiar with authority and unperturbed by power.
"I do not mean this to sound ungrateful, but why?" Edward asked.
"Judging from the state we found you in, it looked as though you had suffered Aro's hospitality long enough."
Edward appraised the human with a more critical eye and cursed himself even more for his current lack of hearing.
"You are human. How could you know of Aro and the Volturi and still come out alive?" he blurted out.
T'Challa smiled, his brilliantly white teeth gleaming against his dark beard.
"The Volturi are not the only kingdom with secrets. Let us summarize by saying that Wakanda has a long memory and our paths have crossed with what we call the mazimwi, or, as you would say, vampires, in the times of our fathers. Our guardians have both fought against and fought with your kind in our long history. Aro is no fool and he was not willing to lose the lives of so many of his subjects as would have happened if he refused to release my people."
"I didn't know it was possible…" Edward began and then fell back into silence, his mind swirling with the implications of his current situation.
"Tell me, zimwi, how much do you know of Wakanda?"
"Small nation-state in eastern-central Africa, primarily subsistence farmers with primary export as coffee. Reluctant to develop tourist industry or allow foreign investments. Most notable for peace-keeping efforts in the Congolese, Sudanese, Rwandan, Ugandan, and Kenyan conflicts," Edward said, reciting his perfect recall of what he'd heard on a BBC documentary some years back.
Bucky chuckled, earning a swift glare from Edward.
"You will have much to learn, zimwi," T'Challa said with a proud secrecy that irritated Edward further.
"My name is Edward," he retorted.
"So we have heard, but here you must earn your name. But it is not important now. Tell me, how did you manage to get imprisoned in Volterra in the first place?"
"It's a long story," Edward responded, pausing to sift through his emotions and the level of detail to dive into. "It was some years back…I don't know what year it is now or I would tell you exactly. The woman I loved died and I swore I would not live in a world without her. It is nearly impossible to for my kind to end our lives without assistance. I went to Volterra to end my miserable existence. It, uh, did not go according to plan."
"I take it Aro was not willing to end your life for you?" T'Challa said.
"No. Aro thought it was waste…I have a rather unique gift and he wanted me to join his guard. He has grown insatiable in his current quest of treasure collecting. He has been collecting gifted individuals around him for a very long time and he saw me as another prize. I refused to submit and he refused to release me. It was a stalemate, so I stayed in prison to encourage my quicker compliance."
"What gift?" T'Challa interrupted, sharing a wary glance with Bucky.
"I can read minds…or I could. I cannot at the moment, but I do not know why."
"Kazi hiyo imefanikiwa," Bucky whispered to T'Challa and T'Challa nodded, the two sharing yet another secret in a language Edward could not understand. Edward pulled at his hair in frustration.
"Who was the woman that you loved?" T'Challa asked, turning back to him.
Edward sighed and looked dismally at the floor.
"I met her in Washington back in 2006. Bella Swan was my life and the highlight of my existence," he answered, wistfully, his black and gold eyes gazing off into his memories. "She was human and it was not safe for her to be around my family and me. She almost died twice because of us and I knew I'd rather do anything than put her in danger, so I left so she could have the chance at a normal, happy, human life.
"Yet, after I left, she died in a car crash," he said, choking slightly on the words and covering his forehead with his hand. "My family read about it in the paper and my sister called to tell me. Bella survived so many other near-death experiences and it was a stupid, petty, preventable car crash that finally took her. If I had known how few, precious years remained, I never would have…what I mean is…ah, I cannot change the past. I had no reason to live once she was dead and I still don't. It would be to all of our benefit if you could simply find a way to end me and be done with it."
"Eeee! We did not bring you all the way here to kill you, bwana. Aro's justice is usually swift and permanent. There is a reason you are still alive and we intend to find it," T'Challa responded.
"Justice has not been kind to me," Edward said glumly. "However, I am grateful to be released from that blasted prison cell. Anywhere is better than being trapped in Volterra."
"Tell me, when we came across you in Volterra, you were nearly unresponsive. What happened to bring you to such a state?" T'Challa asked.
"Another stalemate. I refused human blood and they refused to feed me on animals. They said it was unnatural and I refused to be any more of a monster than I had to be. After I took off the limbs of the guards who tried to force feed me, they left me to starve. A few years in, I went mad with thirst. I have no memories from that time on."
"It doesn't make sense," T'Challa noted. "Why would Aro maintain your life as he did? What did he have to gain from a rebellious zimwi?"
Edward shrugged. "I am curious-you gave me blood from animals. How did you know what to feed me?"
"As I said, you are not our first zimwi and we have some knowledge on what your kind is capable of and needs to survive. We also knew about your unique family."
How? Edward thought to himself. How could they know all that? It was too much. He found his feelings of wariness multiplying exponentially.
"What are you?" he asked, nodding towards Bucky. "You do not smell like other humans."
"We currently have two other American refugees who have sought sanctuary in Wakanda. Sergeant Barnes is a genetically enhanced super soldier. The serum that has transformed his human body has also shifted his chemical makeup and gives him a slightly different scent to your senses."
Edward stared at Bucky again, nostrils flaring slightly as he smelled the air around him. Bucky watched him with that same guarded silence on his face. T'Challa spoke again.
"Zimwi, you are welcome to stay in our lands here as long as you refrain from feeding from humans and live peacefully with our citizens. Or you can also choose to leave at will and go where you please. We have the capacity to track down the location of your coven, if you so wish.
"However, as you make your decision, you need to know two things. First, Bella Swan is still alive. She arrived in Wakanda over a decade ago and has lived here ever since. And second, Bucky, here, is Bella's husband."
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Translations:
Zimwi/mazimwi: vampire (singular/plural)
Bwana: sir, term of respect.
Kazi hiyo imefanikiwa: It's working.