Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any of its affiliates; they are the sole property of Stephanie Myer and always will be.

This story is set in an Alternate Universe.

ECHOES OF THE SOUL

Chapter Two

There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.

– Gilbert K. Chesterton

"Bella... so, is that your name?"

Edward's fingers clenched tightly around a handful of his comforter, as he took in the calm, unruffled behaviours and idiosyncrasies of this girl apparently called Bella. This is so surreal...

Seemingly unaware of the nervous tick that had randomly developed in the other child currently occupying the room, Bella smoothed one hand over the navy pinstripe comforter; bobbing her head in thought, before tipping her chin thoughtfully. Her head spun around abruptly, and Edward hurried to follow her gaze, her brown eyes landing admiringly on the ebony baby grand that slumbered next to the wall-to-wall, roof-to-floor length mirror.

Crossing her ankles elegantly, a contemplative air settled over the small girl's delicate features, and Edward was about to ask what she was thinking, when Bella's finger rose slightly, ghosting over imaginary keys midair, in a particular, familiar rhythm. Edward watched silently for a moment as he tried to identify the tune, but swiftly realized that the young girl's slender fingertips were mimicking the concerto that he had only just finished playing; copying the movements to perfection, as if by rote. Hoping desperately that she was another prodigy and a kindred spirit, Edward ran his hand through his hair, mussing it once again, and tried uselessly to still his fidgeting toes as he whispered, "Do you play the piano, Bella?"

Startled out of her silent recital, the doe-eyed Bella looked up and Edward couldn't help but watch in amusement as a soft, light pink blush rose swiftly across her cheeks and then ran down her neck; even her ears burned a slightly darker red colour. Lifting herself off of the bed with a graceful ease that Edward was sudden envious of, Bella crossed the room without so much as a sound and then hesitantly let her fingertips press down against one of the keys, a discordantly harsh note echoing throughout the room at her noticeably inept touch.

"No, I cannot play. My mother did though once... she played so beautifully."

"She played...?"

The words slipped past his lips without consent or even proper thought, and the second that they did, Edward wished deeply, profoundly that he could take them back. He was just a young boy, and therefore cringed away from all tears, and emotions and the like; but the endless despair on the girls face sent a sharp stab of pain through his chest. The thoughtless, careless query invoked a reaction he never wanted to invoke again, he thought, as Bella's previously clear doe-eyes filled with tears that quickly overrode their boundaries and ran unrestrainedly down her lightly bronzed skin. No matter that she wiped them steadily away as they fell; a new tear would soon take its place on her cheeks. Heartbreak clearly etched into every facet of her young, once unmarred face, and Bella sat quietly and placidly on the piano stool, letting her fingertip touch the gleaming ebony and ivory keys reverently, before she whispered solemnly, "She died."

Troubled and distressed by the sight and by pain that he had, even if was inadvertently, caused; the young boy rose from his seat on his rumpled bed and crossed over to where Bella was seated, still with a torrent of tears in her eyes. Though he was still perturbed and more than a little put-off by her tears, Edward found himself unable to leave her, and if only because of the manners that had been ingrained in him by his mother; the auburn-haired ten year-old reached forward to lay a comforting hand on Bella's shoulder. Only to stumble back in horrified shock when his hand fell clean through the young girl's body and did not stop until it hit the firm leather of supposably occupied piano stool.

Covering his mouth to stifle his rather unmanly and extremely girlish scream, Edward stared wide-eyed and dumbfounded at this Bella girl, who merely sat swinging her legs back and forth from her place on the stool, as if a boy's hand did not just past through her as if she were nothing more than air. After a few silent minutes ticked by, Bella finally turned faced him dead on with dry cheeks, as it appeared that her tears had finally abated. Taking in the terrified, and yet somehow blank look on Edward's face, she resting one hand on the padded stool and looked down again, watching as her fingers doodled patterns on the material of the stool. She only looked up again fifteen minutes later when Edward has composed himself enough to all but shout his query.

What in the holy hell...? "What are you?"

Flicking her head sideways with a curious look on her face, Bella's bangs fell over her eyes after only a second, which hid most of her emotions and expression from view. Cracking open her stilled lips, and thinking better of it, Bella chose to once again ignore the boy's burning questions and instead leant forward a way and tried to touch the shock-still youth. Unnoticed by the jade-eyed boy, Bella's lips dipped into a frown and her brows crinkled in confusion as her fingers, and then hand, passed through the boy's arm as if she was vapour. Just like what happened when he tried, and failed, to touch her, only minutes ago.

Frustrated, she huffed and replied, "I don't know what I am, Edward. But apparently I cannot touch you, even if I wanted to."

Unsatisfied with the answer, and yet somehow knowing that it was everything Bella herself knew on the subject, Edward huffed as well. Raking his fingers through his hair, he noticed that Bella's eyes seemed to track the movement his hands made, fixated on the bird's nest his frustration wrought on his already utterly unmanageable hairstyle. Girls are weird...

"Oh."

That was all he could think of to say; this situation was one he had never been in before and Edward was at once for a loss of what he was meant to do. Maybe he should just treat her like a kid that he would meet in the street? Ask her name, where she lived, if she wanted to come over to his house and other such like? Deciding that was the only course of action his dreadfully aching and confused head would conjure up, he figured he might as well go with it. Well, it can't make things worse...

"So, where do you live then, Bella?"

The girl in question tilted her head to the side again, and the action sweeping her hair away from her bright brown eyes which now shone with confusion; her body seeming to act on its own accord as it ghosted one hand over Edward's brilliantly coppery hair, not quite touching. Shaking her head to clear away the obvious distraction, Bella murmured her reply as she let her gaze wander lightly over the entire room, "Live? Well I am in this room mostly, though sometimes I like to take a stroll around the rest of the house. That blonde woman, with eyes just like yours... is she your mother? I like her; she has a very kind smile and a warm soul."

With the unperturbed acceptance of youth, Edward's childish mind skipped over the impossibility that this girl was living in his house, and smiled despite himself, before he nodded and declared happily, "Yeah, that's my mom. She's the best, even if she made me move here and leave all my friends behind."

His own words invoked potent nostalgia as his eyes closed unconsciously, his mind caught in the grips of his memories of a former life. They permeated through his mind, and he was unable to shake them easily. It took more than a few minutes and by the time he had shaken off the hold of the past, his brunette friend was nowhere to be seen, "Bella?"

Fingers clenching into fists, as doubt threatened to overcome him, what if it was all a dream, Edward called her name once more, and then again. After what felt like an eternity of lonesomeness, a soft trilling voice answered his call, pleasure clear in her tone, "Yes, Edward?"

Heart beating hard, Edward spun around so fast that his head protested the movement; but still, even if he didn't acknowledge it, a brilliant smile lit up his entire face as soon as he spotted the odd little girl who claimed to live in this room, standing over by his shelves. The smile only broadened when he finally noticed that Bella was perusing his ever-growing music collection with a soft, warm smile and sparkling, brown eyes. His collection was mostly classical in nature, ranging from Bach to the ever-popular Beethoven, and Mozart; but there were a few exceptions. His mother had insisted that he kept some of the lullabies he had listened to in infancy, and he had collected an assortment of eclectic mixes from various bands that were popular now, and also some that had been more in style during his parent's time. But the most important thing was the soft look that had overwhelmed Bella's features as she glanced over the titles, prompting Edward to ask with nary a second thought, "Do you like music, Bella?"

At his question, Bella started and twirled gracefully around on one perfectly poised toe, smiling brightly in the preteen's direction, which in turn made the youth duck his head in embarrassment at the radiant grin focused his way. Eyes still resting and capturing his, Bella ran a loving, affectionate hand across the entire classical section of his collection, and after that began touching each and every CD from his parent's time, reverently and deferentially. Her fingers lighting on a particular disk, she easily plucked it from the shelf and ran her eyes over the title with a tear gathering her eye, but as she placed it back on the shelf, Bella nodded and replied, "I love music. Mama used to play every single day, and she would sing so pretty too. Papa loved to hear her play, and sometimes he sang as well, though he could rarely hold a single note."

The unearthly glow that captured the brown-lit hue of Bella's eyes both ensnared and captivated young Edward's attention. The mere memory of her late parents seemed to lift the girl's spirits; her voice enriched with elation and joy, and her cheeks flushed a soft, delighted pink. Smile deepening with small creases crinkling her brow; the sparkle in her eyes was undeniable, and without realising it, Edward fell instep beside her. In a slow, fluid movement, his hand reached forward and rested right next to hers on the shelf, not quite touching her but as good as, considering the circumstances that bound them from physical touch.

Although he knew the answer, for it echoed sincerely in his soul, Edward flexed his fingers and asked his question anyway – for it just felt right to ask her, though for reasons he couldn't yet comprehend in the slightest. "Do you miss them, B—"

"Edward..." a soft voice crooned, her tone confused and surprised.

At the voice, both children turned to face the lady standing in the doorway, one hand still wrapped around the doorknob; neither face betrayed any emotion at the sudden appearance, but then again neither of them felt any surprise when Edward's mother, Elizabeth, had opened the door and then entered – it was her house after all. Edward, however, was a little taken aback by the perplexed look on her mother's face, as if she was trying to figure out some great mystery. As to what mystery it was, Edward was completely clueless.

Sucking in a breath, Elizabeth spared a moment to glace about her son's bedroom with a contented eye, before the Masen matriarch let them rest on her little boy. He didn't look all that different from yesterday, or even from earlier, but there was something there that Elizabeth couldn't quite put her finger on, which she didn't appreciate in the slightest. Unable to help her curiosity, she inquired, "Who are you talking to, Edward dear?"

Bella was oddly silent, but Edward pushed that fact to one side in favour of gawking at his mother like she was completely alien to him. Is she blind or something? Bella is right there!

Confused by his mother's apparent blindness, Edward huffed and pointed at the very obvious figure of Bella, who was standing placidly by his shelf. Blinking his own eyes to clear away any flaws in his crystal-clear vision, Edward was still met with the sight of Bella perusing the disks with unrivalled interest, though her glaze did flicker once or twice in his mother's direction and afterward, a small smile would tug at her reddened lips. Meeting his mother's gaze straight on, now that he was firm in his conviction that Bella truly was standing in his room, he waved his arms a little and retorted in childish frustration, "Mother! Bella is right here next to my CDs. Can't you see her?"

Elizabeth decided to take the path of least resistance and humour her son's obvious delusions, so she stared blankly in the general direction he was waving at for a few moments; her lips pursing when her eyes found only the undisturbed and painstakingly arranged CD collection that her son had become so particularly fond of over the years. Quickly reaching the conclusion that this Bella person had to be invisible, Elizabeth was left with only to options. One, her son was crazy and needed to be committed as soon as was humanly possible, or two, with this startling and somewhat upsetting move; her young son had sadly regressed back to the point where he had required imaginary friends once again. Wonderful... just wonderful...

Confident in the knowledge that her darling little boy wholly believed, with the stubbornness of a unmoveable stone, that this Bella was a genuine living and breathing human being, and completely unable of trying to convince him otherwise without shaking the boy's childish faith; Elizabeth was only left with the choice to let it be. The charade wouldn't hurt her after all, no more than the myth of Santa and the Easter Bunny did; and it would keep Edward comfortable in this new town, letting him adjust and make friends at his own pace. Besides, it wasn't the first time she had dealt with her son's overactive imagination; before he started school and made friends of his own, Edward had spent his days entertained by the mischievous Joey and Hamish.

Elizabeth was a little taken aback to discover that this new friend of his was female, instead of the often preferred male playmates, but she merely chalked it up to a burgeoning curiosity that would only intensify as Edward drew closer to adolescence and adulthood. That thought brought a tear to her eyes, but she wiped it away, stead-fast in her belief that Edward would be just fine; besides, if the last time was anything to go by, school and their new neighbours would likely cure him of his fanciful friend fascination. Hopefully soon though...

Shaking her head to clear her wandering thoughts, Elizabeth focused her attention on her son who was currently shaking her arm and gazing up at her with concerned eyes. A quick glance at the clock on her son's wall told her why. Standing there blankly for ten minutes? No wonder he's worried.

Seeking to alleviate her beautiful boy's fears, she ruffled his hair playfully and easily shrugged off her inattentiveness with a careless wave that only mother's could get away with without being pelted with hundreds of questions. "Oh yes, hello there Bella. Remember though Edward dear, that you've piano practice for another hour. Come down for supper when you're done, okay darling?"

Nodding in relief that his mother was fine, and most likely just had a lot on her mind, with the move and new town and all, Edward moved happily over to his beloved piano and lifted the lid, quickly settling himself down comfortably. Without hesitation, he began tapping out a few keys to form a pretty and bittersweet, if slightly basic, classical tune. Smiling as he finished the melody with a small flourish, he responded to his mother's inquiry, "Sure mom, I don't mind playing for a bit more. Bella says that she love to hear me play. Her mother used to play too, you know."

There was a sort of profound sadness in the boy's voice as he spoke, but Elizabeth instead focused on the smile on her Edward's face as his lengthy, elegant fingers traipsed their way up and down the piano with an artless ease and grace one is only born into. Edward had, after all, been classified as a prodigy in the beautiful art at only three years old. Well, she decided, if her son was going to make up imaginary friends once again, at least this one helped him focus and refine his talent; and not squander his time with useless, and downright irritating, pranks. Small blessings indeed...

Satisfied now that her auburn-haired son would eventually grow to love this town and its quaint, family atmosphere as much as her husband and she already did, Elizabeth left the room in high spirits and descended the stairs; there was a half-thawed chicken in the refrigerator that was simply begging to be made into Edward's favourite dish; baked apricot chicken. Yes, both her husband and son would enjoy the supper and the cooling cobbler even more so.

Up the stairs, in the neatly furnished room of Edward Masen, Bella sat peacefully, a tender smile on her lips as she listened to the soft, twinkling melodies that echoed around the room, filling it with a sense of tranquillity and harmony. Her eyes often rested on the figure settled comfortably on the piano's leather-padded stool; watching the joyfulness alive on the coppery-auburn haired boy she had come to call Edward. Her gaze faltered quickly though, closing heavily under the sheer power and raw emotion that the music invoked; under its spell so completely that she didn't even notice the tears that trickled slowly down her cheeks as she listened.

As one song gradually drew to close, Bella's still form awoke and she wiped the tears away with an uncaring hand; moving quickly to the young pianist's side before he could flow from one melody to the next. As if under a spell, the girl watched in wonder and rapture as Edward's fingers found and pressed each and every key with fluidness and gracefulness so many could only dream to aspire to; it was if they were dancing in a agile and delicate ballet, flourishing and bending with astounding dexterity.

As Edward flow into the next song, Bella was quickly aware of the fact that this was a familiar one; her mother had spent months, upon months, trying to teach her when she had been alive. Waving away the bittersweet memory, Bella hummed along with the softly trilling notes, and though her heart was a little desperate to sing, she was still content not to. This particular melody had no words anyway. Oh well, we have plenty of time...

"She couldn't see you, could she? My mother, I mean. She couldn't see you, Bella."

Startled by the question, Bella reached out and rested one finger against, while still not touching, the young boy's skin. Slowly, she ran her finger in a soothing motion over the crinkled lines that marred his childish face because of his thoughtful, and deepening, frown. Edward's skin twitched under her ghostlike touch, but smoothed nonetheless, the fact that Bella did not even touch him unrealized by the both of them.

"No, she could not," the brown-eyed brunette agreed gently, her breath a soft, sweet whisper across his cheek, "But it's okay, Edward. It's okay because you can see me."

Exactly as she hoped it would, a beatific smile at her words made Edward's saddened face disappear under the sheer weight and magnitude of his joy; the change so profound that Bella had to stifle a smile at the transformation. It appeared that her newly found friend had an issue with broodiness, but Bella was still quite confident that, despite that, Edward would be brilliant to be around.

After all, his mere smile warmed her in a way she had long forgotten. And for once, in the longest time, the young girl with brown hair and the eyes of a doe, felt utterly at piece.

Bless you, Edward Masen, bless you ever so much.