Place of the Lost

A/N: This is the chapter that inspired the entire story! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Twilight and all of its Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer

Chapter 13: The Indian Princess

EPOV

A light fog settled over Jocassee in the early morning hours, but I could tell that it was everything I had hoped for. It was a little valley tucked high in the Smoky Mountains. I quickly fell in love with those mountains. They made me feel safe, like the bars of a child's crib. It was my sanctuary, and it would help me salvage what was left of my life. There was plenty of shade from the piercing rays of the hot summer sun. The little settlement, of what I presumed was home to about fifty people, was less than a mile away. I could slowly grow accustomed to the scent of humans, and learn to control my thirst. Most importantly, there was plenty of wild game to calm the flames. The Place of the Lost wasn't just practical, it was beautiful. Huge rhododendron with dew covered leaves and purple blossoms bloomed all around. Oaks, cedars and maples created a ceiling of green. Wild verdant grasses and creeping ferns covered the forest floor. The yellow petals of black-eyed susans dotted the banks of a rushing stony creek, and the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and wild strawberries filled the air.

Curiosity wouldn't let me keep my distance from the town for long. I wanted to see how people lived so far away from the city. I moved slowly and hesitantly away from the sign, and away from my sanctuary at the edge of the woods. I walked into the dim light of the morning mist; the sun wasn't bright enough to make my granite skin gleam. I saw a dirt road, shaded by a few tall sycamore trees, that lead to a small cabin just about a hundred yards from the sign. The small cabin was made of thick brown logs and gray smoke poured out of a large rock chimney. I could tell by her scent, that it was home to an elderly lady. The distant aroma of her blood didn't excite my thirst like the vivacious electricity that emanated from young blood. I was grateful for that. In the lady's backyard, there was an empty clothes line and a small wooden structure that I assumed to be an outhouse. As I continued down into the valley, I saw more cabins very similar to the one at the top of the hill. Some seemed newer and slightly larger and others had little porches with rocking chairs. The farther I walked, the more cultivated land I saw. The landscape was dotted with small plots of tobacco, corn and cabbage plants. I noticed that the creek in my sanctuary was a mere tributary to a treacherous rocky river that flowed through the settlement.

As I continued, the smell of human blood became stronger. I could distinguish the scent of infants and children. I felt repulsive for desiring their innocent blood. So I made a conscious effort to stop breathing. I put my hand over my nose, and the flames remained calm. I soon came upon a small white church with a short steeple and a white cross that rose up out of the morning mist. I didn't expect such an ordinary sight to provoke so many emotions. I had never been terribly religious, but I always believed in God. Until recently, I felt like I was a good person. But in just a week's time, I had become an angry, lying, gluttonous murderer. I began to wonder if the venom stole my soul? When Carlisle bit me, was I signing some sort of contract with Satan himself? Immortality in exchange for my everlasting soul? I couldn't look at that church anymore, it started to make me angry and jealous. Those people didn't know how lucky they were. They were peaceful, they knew they had a soul. I was robbed of my serenity. I turned my back on the little white building and started the short journey back to my sanctuary.

This time I walked along the little dirt road, passing directly in front of the cabin at the top of the hill. When I reached the edge of the forest, I took a deep breath. I expected the scent of honeysuckle, but instead my nostrils were attacked by the foulest scent imaginable. It sort of smelled like blood, but mixed with the putrid scent of an animal rotting in the sun on a humid day. It didn't ignite the flames; instead it provoked my leftover human gag reflex. I searched the landscape trying to spot the source of the odor. Nothing had changed, except there was someone about a hundred yards away. They had long dark hair, and a fishing pole in their hand. I took a few nervous steps towards the figure and then a few deep breaths. The foul odor was definitely coming from them. Half of me was disgusted, because the smell was terrible, worse than any influenza ward in Chicago. The other half of me was relieved because I had practically no desire to drink their blood.

I hadn't spoken to anyone since I said goodbye to Alice, and the silence was starting to annoy me. It was probably a bad idea, but at least it wasn't dangerous. I walked as slowly as possible towards the stranger. I tried to make as much noise as I could so I wouldn't startle them. I crunched the dead leaves loudly under my feet. As the distance between us grew smaller, it became obvious that it was a young man. He had russet colored skin and long black hair that fell to the middle of his back. He wore dark denim overalls with mud stained knees, brown boots and a white button up shirt. He heard me coming towards him and lifted his eyes from the flowing stream. His faced was marked with curiosity, but he nodded a greeting in my direction. I lifted my hand and waved to the stranger.

When I reached the edge of the stream, I smiled and instinctively reached my hand out to him, "Edward Masen." I said in a friendly tone.

He returned the smile and met my hand. "Jacob Black." His voice was deep and stern. He was average sized and had high defined cheekbones and dark eyes. We gripped each others hands and shook. "Whoa your hands are freezing." Oh no, I forgot. My thoughts worked quickly.

I faked a light chuckle "Sorry, I just washed them in the river."

He nodded knowingly, "Yeah, the river is cold especially in the morning. I don't believe I've ever seen you around here before."

"No, I'm from Chicago."

He gasped. "Chicago? How the hell did you get here?" He spoke with laughter in his voice.

I tried to think of a believable story. I wanted to use the truth as much as possible. Part of regaining my humanity was to stop lying. "Yes, I don't know if you've heard, but the influenza is terrible there. People are dying by the thousands. I didn't want to get sick, so my doctor asked me to leave the city. I was supposed to go to my aunt's house in Georgia, but I got lost and ended up here."

"Oh, do you need help getting to a rail station?" His thoughts were very sincere.

"No, I like it here. I made camp about a half mile away." Half of that was true. I did like it here. I didn't really have any need for the camp. I should have built some sort of shelter to keep my clothes dry.

He spoke with a smile on his face. "It is nice here, isn't it?" I nodded back at him. "How does a city boy like you, survive out here in the woods?" He chuckled as he took in my urban clothes and pale skin. It probably looked like I had never been outside in my life.

I replied after a long pause. "I did spend a few summers in Georgia. I know how to hunt, fish and build fires." Of course that was years ago, and I didn't remember how to do any of those things. I wouldn't have been able to survive had it not been for the change, but I omitted that detail. "Have you lived here long?" I inquired.

He scoffed at my question, "You're not too perceptive are you? I'm Cherokee. My ancestors have lived on this land for thousands of years."

"Oh, well can you tell me how Jocassee got its name?" That question had boggled my mind since the second I read the sign.

"So you're the one that tore the Kudzu off the old marker?" I nodded. "It's kind of a long story. Do you have time?"

I sighed, "That's all I've got."

He began his tale, "Long before this area was ever settled by Europeans, it was inhabited by two rival Cherokee clans. The Brown Viper Clan lived on west side of the river and the Green Bird Clan lived on the eastern bank. The Brown Viper Clan was led by Chief Attakulla. The chief had a beautiful daughter named Jocassee, who was the favorite of all his children. The clan admired her for her kindness and great compassion. She was treated like a princess by her father and the many suitors that asked for her hand in marriage." I knew they didn't look anything alike, but as I imagined his story in my head, Bella was my Jocassee. I didn't know a girl more beautiful than her. She could have been a princess in any land.

"The pride of the Green Bird Clan was Nagoochee a young, handsome warrior. He was revered throughout the Cherokee nation for his immense strength and unshakeable bravery. He was to become the next chief of the Green Bird Clan. Because Nagoochee was so brave, he often hunted in Brown Viper territory. He knew that if he was caught, he would be killed. Not even this could deter Nagoochee. One night when he was hunting on Brown Viper grounds, he crossed paths with a mountain lion."

I couldn't help but think of my encounter with a mountain lion the previous night, his razor-sharp teeth and long claws. Any human that dared to challenge such a beast, must have been brave or insane. Because I conquered the lion, in my mind, I was Nagoochee.

"He wasn't scared, he wanted the pelt of the giant cat to wear as a mark of his courage. He drew an arrow from his satchel and loaded his bow. He lined up the shot and pierced the animal's side. It roared loudly and turned to chase Nagoochee. The cat was fast and quickly pounced upon the brave warrior. As he fell to the ground, his leg was broken across a rock. He didn't make a sound, it was important to remain calm. The animal scratched his cheek with his mighty claws. Blood dripped from his face, still Nagoochee refused to cry out in pain. Just as the lion leaned down to bite his throat, a second arrow pierced it's flesh. This time it went through the creature's heart. It fell on top of him, limp and dead. He pushed the dead animal off of him and looked around. He spotted a beautiful maiden in the distance. She clutched a bow in her arms."

This legend definitely sounded like Bella and I. That girl was always taking care of me. I couldn't help but interrupt the story with my excited interest, "Was it Jocassee?"

"Of course it was." he replied. "Jocassee ran to his side, and lifted the wounded warrior from the ground. She helped him walk to a secluded hut where she mended his wounds and set his leg in a splint. For many weeks she brought him food and water and tended to his injuries. The two soon fell in love and made plans to get married. They hoped that their marriage would unite the warring clans and bring peace to the valley.

When Nagoochee was well enough to walk, he returned to his people. On the evening of his homecoming, the Green Birds had a great celebration. Jocassee's brother, Cheochee, saw the fires burning and heard the joyous music from across the river. He decided that it would be the perfect time to strike. He launched his warriors that very night, and ambushed the Green Birds. During the battle, Cheochee took advantage of Nagoochee's weakened condition and cut off his head. The next morning the Brown Vipers returned to the other side of the river victorious. Cheochee wore Nagoochee's head on his belt. Jocassee was distraught. She got into a canoe and paddled out into the roughest stretch of rapids in the entire river. The canoe capsized almost immediately."

Oh God, this story was about me and Bella. Two lovers, wrongly robbed of their happiness by uncontrollable forces, our experience exactly. My tone was grave as I interjected, "And she died?"

He smirked at my question, "According to legend, her ghost rose from the water, and danced across the rapids to meet Nagoochee's spirit. On the day of her death, Chief Attakulla proclaimed that the entire valley would be named for his daughter, and it would mean Place of the Lost."

I frowned a little, "That's a very sad story." I wanted to add, just like mine.

He nodded in agreement, "Yes I like to think of it as our version of Romeo and Juliet. But I guess Nagoochee and Jocassee doesn't exactly roll off the English tongue."

I chuckled at him, "That's exactly what I was thinking. My girl would have loved it. She's read Romeo and Juliet a million times. What is it about women? I can't understand why they'd want to subject themselves to such miserable stories, and she does it over and over again."

His expression suddenly looked more interested, "You have a girl?" His surprise was insulting.

I sighed in contentment. I relished the opportunity to talk about her. She was on my mind all the time, and I was practically bursting to let it out. I tried to contain my excitement, "Yes, her name is Isabella."

"Is she pretty?" He asked.

I scoffed at the question. Pretty wasn't a strong enough word to describe Bella. "Yes, she's beautiful."

He smirked at me. "What does she look like?"

I couldn't help but smile when I talked about her. "She has long brown hair with shiny curls. Her skin is soft and the color of porcelain…"

He chuckled loudly and rudely interrupted my description. "Jeez man, are you getting a woody over there?" I just rolled my eyes at his crude remark. He sensed my annoyance and continued talking. "Where is your girl now?" He prodded.

My tone became solemn. "She's still in Chicago. I'm sure she'll be all right. Her father is extremely protective. He probably hasn't let her leave the house for days."

He had a shocked expression "God, how you could you leave her?" Those words cut deep. I felt so bad for leaving Bella, but I could never explain that to him.

"We just had to go our separate ways for a while. I miss her like crazy." I tried to change the subject, "Do the Green Birds and Brown Vipers still live here?"

He shook his head and his expression became grave. "Only seven Cherokee clans still exist in the east. Most of them are in North Carolina."

"What happened to all of them?" I asked. His solemn tone sparked my morbid curiosity.

"In the 1830's, most Native Americans on the east coast were forced to migrate to the west. Our leaders never agreed to the removal. The greedy bastards only wanted our territory because they thought it had gold. The Treaty of New Echota was drawn up and it outlined the exchange of Cherokee lands for those west of the Mississippi. Tribal leaders never signed the treaty, but still it was enforced by the federal government. Sixteen-thousand men, women and children were forced to walk over a thousand miles to Oklahoma. A quarter of them died before they even reached their destination. They called the journey the Trail of Tears." I wasn't expecting the history lesson, but I could tell by his thoughts that he enjoyed talking about his ancestors. Jacob was proud, and from what he told me he had a very good reason to be.

It was probably a stupid question but I asked anyway, "Because they cried so much?"

He smirked, "No, the people who saw them cried."

I was genuinely impressed. "Oh, that's very courageous. So if you're not a Green Bird or a Brown Viper, what clan are you from?"

"We're called Aniwahya." He replied.

"What does that mean?"

"The Wolf Clan."

My thoughts immediately shifted to the bone-chilling howls that echoed through the forest the night before. The memory made me shift uncomfortably, but I prodded him further. "Does the whole Wolf Clan live here?"

"No, the rest of my family lives in North Carolina, not too far from here. We're the descendants of those who refused to walk the Trail of Tears, instead our ancestors hid in the mountains." He was really enjoying my genuine interest and curiosity. Despite the smell, I was enjoying the companionship. I could see how Jacob Black and I could become good friends.

"What's the Wolf Clan known for?"

"We're the keepers and trackers of the wolf. Our most important duty is to act as the protectors of the tribe. We're known for producing the strongest warriors, and the greatest war chiefs."

I furrowed my brows. "Are you still in charge of protecting the tribe?"

His expression was smug. "If the circumstances called for it… yes." I gave him an understanding look. He was very confident in himself to an almost arrogant extent. "Well the specs' ain't gonna catch themselves. I need to get this pole in the water. Do you like trout?" I took that as my cue to leave him alone.

I smiled at him and kept my voice friendly. "I have to be really hungry to eat trout. Thanks for the offer. Well, it was nice to meet you Jacob." I took a step away from him.

He returned with a grin, "Oh you can call me Jake, and it was nice to meet you too. I'll see you around, Eddie."

I replied in an annoyed tone, "You can call me Edward." He chuckled and I turned and began to walk into the woods. I traveled about a hundred yards and sat down under a tall cedar. The grass was wet, but warm. I laid my head back and reflected on all I had just learned.

For the first time in days, I felt really good about where I was. I had a friend, who I didn't want to murder for his blood. I didn't know what was different about him. I thought maybe if Bella's scent was so enticing that there could also be people out there who's scent I found repulsive. Honestly, I didn't care why. I was just glad to talk to someone who thought I was normal. Being in my sanctuary also offered some much needed comfort. I now knew that this was a place that truly understood me. This land knew sadness; it felt the pain of lost love. It would embrace me, and help me get back to my Bella. I would get strong for her, and the moment I was sure I could handle it, I would be in Chicago. I would hold Bella, just as Nagoochee longed to hold his Indian princess.

A/N: Most of the legend and all of the history is true. Members of the Wolf Clan really were the protectors of the tribe. That was very convenient. Thanks for reading. Please review!