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Edward and Carlisle remain in Machynlleth only a few weeks after Owain's death. Despite the minimal risk of exposure and the pleasant life and craft they've established there, they both intuit that it's time to move on. Taking care to protect their few possessions, Brenhinoedd y Saeson among more mundane and forgettable objects, they begin a meandering wilderness journey. With their friendship cemented Edward endeavors to show Carlisle a Britain he'd never fathomed.
Almost a thousand years of experience, however repetitive, will gain anyone insight on a place. So Aedwaerth knows the island like his own mind and he treats his brother to a tour of epic proportions. They explore the husks of abandoned and forgotten castles and forts, strongholds of kingdoms long lost. Edward leads Carlisle through a cave on the coast, carved out and fashioned a home by fisherman of a bygone age. The earth-made abode is inaccessible to humans, and their enhanced vision shows them those that lived there did so at a time when Earth's oceans were at a higher point.
They watch the hustle and bustle of frantic life in a hundred different places, and Edward shares the thoughts of hectic humans and attempts to explain their resilient, fascinating nature. Carlisle hears him murmur, "They're so weak, yet so strong... and so scared." The ancient creature turns and says, "I don't know if there's anything as horribly beautiful as a human life, Carlisle. Every moment they spend breathing or bleeding is sacred, but they're all doomed. And every second spent in this limbo makes it more poignant. They're brilliant because of their demise."
He climbs them high into the mountains and Carlisle hears of the highlander, the people that Edward was forced to leave behind. The younger man can tell that Edward has protected himself from the heartbreak of watching his Caledonii flicker and fail, his people diffused in alien tribes. But Carlisle knows when Edward is remembering his old life and the responsibility that he feels by his eyes; Aedwaerth's thousand-mile-stare is as telling as his story.
The highlight of the several year trip, at least for Carlisle, was their trip to the bustling Dunnottar Castle. It's near nightfall and Edward is smacking his lips at a few domesticated cattle milling about the road near the gatehouse. They've hidden themselves a little up the coast from the headland where the castle is perched, a bulwark against the weather and wind that buffets it. "You wouldn't eat somebody's cow, would you, oh swift-footed one."
"If I'd have known you become so obsessed with ridiculous Greek literature, I'd never have stolen those books."
"Come on, highlander, you've got to see the similarities between you and Achilles, at least as a warrior."
Edward grumbles. "I'd have killed that pouty whoreson even as a human." A long period of silence passes.
"So you really did look like you were thinking about eating that cow."
"I was remembering what I wanted to show you, actually. A different kind of meal. It involved a bunch of Christians. And an Auroch." Carlisle immediately wants to know what an Auroch is.
"Resembled a huge bull. Taller than me at the shoulder with massive horns. Hunted into nothingness here by men and wolves. Though I saw a few traveling merchants peddling their horns in London a few years before you were turned."
"Ah. So this story..."
So Edward tells him about the small, resilient group of Christians that eked out a meagre existence on and around the beautiful promontory where the castle now stands. Edward can remember his awe at their utter selflessness, the entwined and cooperative community and the familial love they shared so freely. He'd never felt loneliness so acutely as he did observing them. He reveled in their petty squabbles and the ease with which they forgave and forgot. He'd watched them for years, protecting their home from marauders, murderers and thieves even though they'd had little to steal.
When a hard winter wreaks havoc on their gentle life, Edward felt he had no choice but to intervene. "So I killed an Auroch and dropped it by the tiny chapel door. They made it through that winter only to be slaughtered by some invading Danes the following year. I found a few of them crucified inside the chapel while the rest had been ritualistically butchered on the wooden altar, making a mockery of their faith. I hunted them, every one run down and ended. Even sunk a few Danish ships on their way here..." Edward trails off with his hands clenched, eyes dilated to a flat black. The rage boils within him at the memory until Carlisle places a hand softly on his shoulder. He says nothing aloud, but Edward can hear the righteous fury in Carlisle's mind spawned by myriad experiences with evil.
With eyes that match Edwards in their color and intensity Carlisle says, "I won't kill a man. But where we can, when we can, we must attempt to stop that kind of wickedness, Aedwaerth. We must." Aedwaerth's subtle affirmative is tantamount to an ironclad contract. In truth, he has been resolved in this matter since he was a boy. Injustice sticks in his craw like a live rat: thrashing, gnawing until action is taken. It made him an impressive king and an unusual vampire, but a perfect companion for Carlisle.
"So. You want to see the chapel? They built the foundation of the castle right on top of it without knowing what it was." Carlisle can't resist and Edward rolls back the dials in his mind to a fall day in the year 1311. The ruined Christian chapel, now below ground level, had been transformed into the castle dungeon accessible only by an elaborate iron-locked oubliette. By the time that Edward arrives here with Carlisle, the dungeon has been all but forgotten. They prowl the outskirts of the castle when dark descends, coming closer in concentric circles and careful to avoid any detection. When the witching hour is nigh, the time when humans dream deepest, they sneak into the castle keep and steal swiftly into the chapel below the grate.
They find nothing of value or consequence, leave quickly and never return; the weight of death hovers in the air, lingers in their senses and mutes their minds. But their travels continue, Aedwaerth insistent on imparting what wisdom he can to his young cohort.
Place by place, mile by mile, Carlisle comes to know their home the way that Edward does: both the trivial, mundane minutiae and fantastic drama. As they traverse the island Edward begins to unravel his past in detail for Carlisle, something he'd been unwilling to do, shamed and angry as he was. But the telling is cathartic, exactly what he needs to slay the demons of his past.
Aedwaerth shows his friend these things, elucidating the intricacies of the island's history and his past in a way that is second only to firsthand experience. And Carlisle marvels at the existence they've both been given. And the spark of life within the two companions is prevalent; Edward is happy to have a friend with whom he can share his expansive life and love. Then the first assassin comes uninhibited as if conjured by their piece of mind and soul.
A/N: Life is a little hectic right now, but I promise I've got big plans for this story. We're just getting started. Thanks for your continued support and comments. Rock on.