Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, been a little busy as of late. As always, enjoy!
I was in the library the next day, as Helen had sent me there to collect some archive books for a client. I decided to take my time, since I was by now familiar with the place and didn't have to rush. Aro had said that I was welcome to borrow anything that I wanted, but I just wanted to look, to touch. It was becoming a favorite thing of mine, browsing through books. It had a calming effect on me.
And there were so many here – most of them first edition copies, old and rare. Some even had the edges of the pages dipped in gold, the covers ornate and beautiful. I knew that the library was frequented by others - though I had never seen them. It was a very quiet place, so any noise made was amplified.
That was why I was surprised to find another person when I turned a corner by one of the shelves – it was Marcus, one of the owners of the company. I had only seen him a handful of times before, and heard him speak even less. He was not browsing through the shelves however, instead he was observing a lone orchid, placed as an ornament on one of the reading tables. He was a very old man, with deep, sad lines running through his face. Though his eyes always looked tired, I got the feeling that he was more energetic than his apperance allowed. I quickly bowed my head when I saw him.
"Signore, good day."
He turned slowly at the sound of my voice. I heard him take a huge breath, before letting it out in the same time he responded to me. His voice was muffled, old and weary.
"I trust I find you in good health."
"Yes sir, thank you. " I answered. He made slow gestures with his hands, as if orchestrating a symphony that wasn't there.
"We must always look after those who are loyal to us. Tell me, how do you like italy? Is it...beautiful?"he asked, which I thought was odd. He said it like he wasn't sure himself. Nevertheless, I gave him an honest answer.
"Uh, yes I like it very much."
"Then perhaps, you have already seen our beautiful places. The churches..." I felt a little guilty at that, since I hadn't really paid much attention to that, other than my visits to Florence.
"Well, actually I haven't had much time for that. Not that I mind, at all." I was quick to add at the end, since I didn't want to come off unappriciative. He looked at me thoughtfully and nodded.
"I think I see. I have not have much time to see these places for myself either. But tomorrow, I am going to visit the church of santa del sole rosa. Do you know it?"
I shook my head. There were many churches near and around Volterra. I had never been inside any of them though.
"If you come with me, I can tell you much about its long history. And we can wander in their beautiful rose garden."
It was an unexpected invitation, since I had only talked to this man a handful of times before. While I was not particularly interested in the church, but the mention of the garden piqued my interest. Though I had to wonder – why invite me at all?
"Alright signore, I will come with you."
We did not go there during the day. Instead, his driver called my home at 6 pm in the evening, telling me that the car was waiting right outside to drive us there. The sun was still up, but it was approaching evening. I made sure to change my work outfit into something a bit more formal (and less sweatstained) for the occation.
But what was this occation? An impromptu church visit at night with one of your bosses? Then it occured to me that he knew about Aro, and what we were doing together. Nothing physical of course, but it was still not a business relationship – not anymore. He could have told someone, and this was just a meeting where I'd be told to pack my bags and go home. I hoped that was not the case.
"Well, better put on my sunday best..." I muttered to myself, digging out a burgundy cotton sundress from the closet, much cheaper than the high end clothing I'd recieved from the Volturi. I'd bought it on a whim from one of the smaller boutiques in the village, sleeveless and the hem ended right below the knee.
When I got down to the car, the driver stepped out and opened the door for me. But besides me, the car was empty. At my confused look, the driver shrugged and looked back at me in the rearview mirror.
"He is already there, Miss."
It was not a very long drive, just around fifteen minutes or so. I could easily have walked the distance, but I didn't know I'd be riding there alone in the car. When we approached the church I realized that I sort of recognized it. I must have run past it on one of my evening jogs, just not paid it much attention.
It was true what Marcus had said – it was a beautiful building. And in the orange light of the sunset, it truly looked like a place of facade had obviously been restored somewhat, but it had been done with respect and a great deal of care. I did not know much about architecture, but it looked old – very old. It was more of a chapel than a church, the size much smaller.
I did not see Marcus standing anywhere outside the building, so I went inside to look for him. It was much darker inside, because there were no electric lights. Instead it was wholly lit up by either candles or oil lamps. It was near empty inside, save for a few people sitting in the pews, silently praying. Near the front, where the altar was, there was a big window behind it – painted glass. A picture of jesus looking down from the sky.
But I did not see Marcus. Not until I heard his voice did I see him. The similarity between his apperance and that of the jesus in the painted glass was jarring – both of them looked ethereal, somehow. But Marcus wore all black, and his eyes were not full of forgiveness.
"Rebecca. Here, come see." He was standing near the entrance by what looked like a monter. It was a small area that looked part of a museum. There were old pictures of the chapel from the early 19th century hung on the wall, old wooden carvings of angels that had fallen off the main structure at some point but been salvaged.
I found myself fascinated by what I saw, though it was not usually my idea of a fun evening. I walked over to where Marcus was standing, looking at old biblical scriptures that had been put under glass, obviously too fragile for people to touch.
"I hope you find my company not too bothersome." he said, not taking his eyes off the scriptures as he talked. This was something he had in common with Aro – they were both aware of how intimidating they could be. And they made sure to bring it up quickly, like the person they were with became scared otherwise. I moved to stand next to him so I could see what he was looking at, showing that I was not intimidated.
"No, I was just surprised to be invited." I said pleasently, smiling.
He looked at me for a long moment then before his eyes swept over our surroundings. We both listened in on the sermon taking place for a moment, a preacher with a deep, solemn voice. It sounded almost like he was chanting. His voice echoed in the building, despite its size.
"Are you a religious man?" I asked, curious. Marcus blinked slowly, and he turned his head away when the preacher held out a chalise of wine for one of the patrons to drink from. Unlike Aro, Marcus eyes were different, yet similar. His eyes were darker, more purplish in color.
"One does not have to be in order to appriciate the beauty of devotion. And besides, they want the same things as we do. " he said, before walking in the opposite direction, down the aisle and stopping near the entrance – on the opposite side of the wooden carvings hanging on the wall. There were something kept there under protective glass as well, along with a historical plaque above it.
"Churches aim to preserve order, to remain faithful to history. That is something to be admired." he said in his slow, methodical voice. I looked down at the display and frowned, trying to understand what I was looking at. It looked like a collection of parts from a shipwreck – some of them too small to really understand what they were. Small, rectangular rocks that looked like they had been carved by hand. Old pieces of leather, something that maybe had been clothing once upon a time. Metal tools that looked broken, only leaving jagged edges behind.
"What is all this?" I asked, and Marcus smiled. It did not look like he did it often.
"At first glance, it does seem unimpressive doesn't it? They have not been able to recover much, nothing recognizable to the naked eye. Around 20 years or so, they did a local archeological discovery nearby of a settlement – they dated it to be from around 200 B.C. This is what they found.
"he said calmly. As my eyes went over it again, I focused on the one thing that seemed to be intact. It was a small silver pendant, dented and the silver darkened to a charcoal shade. Its surface had carved details – the profile of a lion with its mouth open, its head turned to look at something behind it. As I stared at the pendant, I was becoming more and more uncomfortable.
Particularly because the necklace – the one I usually always wore and could not find back home, it looked the same as this one.
"A settlement of what?" I heard myself ask, my voice strained.
"Slaves, Miss Somersten. Believed to have been captured when france's many tribes were exterminated when emperor cesar came to power. Most of them were killed of course, but the rest were brought over here and sold off. The settlement was a prison. "