Book 2: Full Moon
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Prenez sur moi vostre exemple amoureux- Johannes Ockeghem
Miserere mei Deus- Josquin des Prez
Cantan gl'augelli- Settimia Caccini
"I'm tired," I sighed to Carlisle, burying the wolf I had drained. He had been following behind me, already drinking his fill. I had never seen anyone hunt like Carlisle, though he was the only vampire I knew who abstained from human blood as well. But I still enjoyed the hunt, however futile. I liked to chase my prey, perhaps fight it for a moment, my mind blank but for the instinct of a predator driving me.
But Carlisle took no pleasure in the kill, not even of an animal. He didn't chase, didn't give himself over to his senses and feel the rush of pleasure of the hunt. He strolled up to the animal quietly and snapped its neck gently so it felt no pain, no fear, and drained it quickly.
I respected him for it, for his restraint. It was difficult to see him struggle in Volterra, both with the smell of blood that clung in the air and the knowledge of the hundreds of humans who were being murdered mere feet from us every single day.
I was grateful I didn't have to practice like Carlisle did. The restraint, the abstention, came naturally to me. I had discussed it with Carlisle, and he came to the same conclusion as me. When I was changed, it was on the birthing bed, and my last memory before the pain was my child's blue face, a cord wrapped around her fragile neck. When the burning subsided and I opened my eyes to my new existence, my first and only thought was on my child. And she was there, in the arms of my dearest friend, a sickly and crying infant.
My thirst, my vampiric impulses- it was secondary to the love a mother has for her child. I pushed the ache in my throat aside to care for my mewling baby. When the burn became encompassing, I dragged myself away, crawling out the window and draining the first thing I saw- a horse, then a goat, then another horse.
It was easy practice, after that. I did not pose a danger to my family, and I could not leave my sick child. My complete focus was on her for the few months she lived. I only left her to nourish myself in this new way, slipping down to the stables to satiate the burning of my throat, then to the woods surrounding the city for larger animals.
After the baby passed, I still couldn't leave. I had one living child who was three years old and needed her mother, I had friends and family who I loved. At night, while the world slept, I practiced retaining my humanity, the fidgeting and movements, the breathing. Then I had the time to read every book, learn every language, immerse myself in art and music and culture. I adopted orphans and raised them as my own children, filling my home with laughter and happiness. I was essentially human, just without the aging or the beating heart.
But humanity, as I learned, is fragile and fleeting. The children I raised grew older, married, created their own families. I created a legacy, and it was time to leave.
I faked my death over forty years after my change, and after I made sure I had left stability and prosperity for those I was leaving behind, I moved on.
I left Italy immediately, travelling north through Europe, then east. I roamed through Asia, then swam to Australia, then Africa. I learned more than I never knew possible, and I actually met other vampires.
The vampire who changed me was still a mystery to me. The friend who brought her to me didn't know what she was, just that she was different, ethereal. As I bled to death in the birthing bed, she begged the vampire to do anything, absolutely anything in her power to change me. The vampire capitulated, but abandoned me after sealing her bite, leaving me to the change.
The first vampire I ever met was in Egypt, several decades after my change. His name was Amun, his mate Kebi, and they drank from humans, though they were controlled and well-mannered. I enjoyed spending time with them, but Amun was not comfortable with extended company, and I took my leave.
I encountered a few other vampires in my travels, all nomadic and vicious. They fed freely from humans with no regard for life, no respect for the species we once were. It was predator and prey- no more.
I circled my way around the African continent, enjoying the spice and richness of the blood of lions- they were not endangered or vulnerable in those days. As I made my way back through Northern Africa, I found myself in modern Tunisia, standing at the tip of the Cape Bon peninsula with the Mediterranean Sea on both sides of me.
I stood on the grassy cliff, alone, my skin sparkling like the sea in the burning sun, and I could see Sicily from where I stood. It was distant, a hazy green a great distance away, but it was there. I felt tired, weary from my decades of wayward travels, and longed for the familiar. The place I once called home was within my grasp.
I figured that it had been long enough that no one would recognize me. The children I had raised had already passed on, leaving their own children behind, and I knew there was likely no one left who would remember me. There would be no harm in seeing what had become of my family.
I had no possessions, nothing tying me to my life. I dove into the sea, the sun-warmed water cresting and foaming as it broke on the rocks. I had swam a long distance before, from modern day Vietnam to Australia, and drank again from a porpoise, more out of curiosity than true thirst. As mammals and predators, their taste is not disgusting, but the experience of hunting without a sense of smell is unusual and uncomfortable.
It was not long before I emerged, golden-eyed and in soaking, tattered clothing, just south of Rome. I ran north, past Rome and Florence and heading for Mantua, but when I stopped to hunt just south of Bologna, strange vampires found me.
One man was massive, towering in his height, with pale olive skin and cropped black hair. The other was tall, but dwarfed by his companion, his hair dark and long and covered by the hood of a near-black robe. They were Felix and Demetri, patrolling along the outskirts of Volterra. Intrigued by my hunting and feeding from an animal, they requested I return with them in a tone that implied that I had no choice in the matter.
I had heard a little about the Volturi from Amun and Kebi, who were wary and frightened of the group of vampires that had stolen the gifted vampire Amun created- Demetri. But what I did know made it clear that I would be unwise to refuse the offer to accompany them back to their city, and their masters.
Volterra at the beginning of the seventeenth century was a sight to behold- glorious walls, unscarred architecture, a vast collection of art and sculpture. And the three brothers and the guard they had assembled astounded me. I had existed for over one hundred years by then, but I had never met such civilized vampires before.
I waited in their cool reception area as Demetri went ahead, to tell the three rulers that they had found a vampire drinking from a lynx. Felix stayed with me, pointing out various sculptures and explaining a vague history of the city and the Volturi to me. He was funny, and actually kind, as well as clean and well-dressed. It was refreshing to be in the company of someone I did not have to hide from.
Demetri fetched me and took me the spiraling turret that rose above the castle, where a second reception area led to essentially a throne room, lit only by the arrow slits high above.
I didn't know what I was expecting in the three brothers, but it wasn't what I saw. They were not in the majestic thrones that engulfed the room, but rather standing with two other vampires.
Aro seemed to be in his early twenties, physically, with shoulder-length jet black hair and translucent white skin, a trait shared by the other two. Caius looked to be middle-aged, with shoulder-length snow-white hair and a mouth that seemed to be twisted into a permanent snarl. His milky red eyes snapped to me when we entered the room, hostile and seemingly angry at the interruption.
"Here she is, Master," Felix reported, standing attentively behind me. Master seemed to be an uncharacteristically reverential title for a vampire to use- we are a species that does not bow or bend.
"Ah, hello, dear! Who might you be?" Aro approached me, surprisingly friendly, his eyes alight and dancing. I immediately smiled back at him, appreciating the manners displayed.
"My name is Isabella," I introduced, extending my hand for him to kiss, as was custom in those days.
"Isabella," Aro clucked, my name rolling off his tongue. He grasped my hand between his, caressing the back of it with his cool, fragile feeling fingers. No one had divulged the details of his gift to me, otherwise I perhaps would have been more hesitant to bare my skin to him so readily.
But he held my hand in his, and as the seconds ticked by, his soft smile turned into a frown, his brows furrowing in… confusion? frustration?
"Nothing!" he cried, breaking out into a grin as he turned to the two robed figures behind him, "I hear nothing from her mind!"
Caius' twisted expression deepened, but I finally got a look at the third brother. Marcus. He looked a bit like Aro- same hair, same papery skin- though he was taller, and there was something in his eyes. He seemed blank, expressionless. It was as if he wasn't even there. Though when Aro announced that he heard nothing, Marcus's brow arched imperceptibly before he regained his composure and shifted his gaze elsewhere.
"Excuse me?" I pardoned myself, then completely confused by what was happening.
Aro thoroughly enjoyed telling me of his gift and, by extension, my own. Though before we could get too far into the conversation, Caius interrupted, reminding Aro of why I was brought before them.
"Ah, yes, brother. In the delight of the elusiveness, it had slipped my mind," Aro started, "Demetri and Felix tell us they came across you feeding from an animal? Surely, they must have been mistaken."
I shook my head. "No, it is correct. I eschew human blood in favor of that of animals," I confirmed, noting how Marcus was now paying attention again.
"That cannot be satisfying," Caius commented, his voice low.
"I didn't even know that was possible!" Aro was still excited, alight with all the new information in just a few minutes.
"I have no craving for human blood," I told them, my pride swelling in that moment. I hadn't felt much since I had left my family and my humanity. I had no possessions, no earthly ties, no friends, but the one thing I held on to was the fact that I was not a monster- I had never, and would never, kill a human for my own pleasure or satiation.
"How long have you been able to sustain yourself in this way?" Aro asked.
"I was changed one hundred and six years ago." Felix, still standing behind me, audibly gasped. Aro's jaw gaped open before his lips pulled up in a brilliant smile.
"That is fascinating!" he exclaimed, "Surely you'll stay, Isabella! I have so many questions for you, both about your gift, and your diet." Aro's hand reached out to grasp my elbow, leading me out into the hallways so he could show me to a room that would be my own. I had no argument, no reason to not accept such a generous offer from the most powerful vampire- and thus, most powerful being- in the world.
The interest in me was so welcomed after decades in solitude. And they were all so civil, mingling about, dressing in clean robes. Not to mention this talk of a gift. There I was, amongst the most powerful vampires in existence, and they were interested in me. I couldn't leave for some wayward reason when I could potentially unlock some greater mystery of my own mind.
And so I stayed. Aro grew more and more delighted as I continued to be immune to psychic gifts, though Jane's frustration grew to bitterness borne of jealousy. She had been Aro's little pet, his golden child, for centuries, and I wasn't affected by her gift.
Aro enjoyed taunting me endlessly, and others joined in. They constantly requested my presence at meal time, trying to entice me with a human they found to be particularly fragrant. They began to leave the throne room less than clean, the residue of blood coating the floor from their messy meals. But Aro was enchanted by my self-control. Without access to my mind, he had no understanding of me, he didn't see that human blood simply didn't impact me. I had pushed my thirst aside over a century before, and it would always be secondary to my desire to preserve life.
He did help me, though. Aro thought my gift could grow and expand, as Jane's and Alec's did. I practiced with the twins of terror, trying to feel the elusive thing that shielded me from their powers. It was so intangible, so unexplainable. I made no progress.
To occupy me, Aro sent me out with Felix and Demetri on various missions of justice. It was a welcomed distraction from the frustration of psychic powers, and I actually enjoyed the company of Felix and Demetri. They were simple and uncomplicated. Demetri could not track me, but he showed no anger at me, and did not wonder or comment. And Felix was just funny, always finding joy in whatever he was doing- even if it was brutal and violent.
I relished in travelling with companions almost as much as I loved having a home to return to. A permanent place that was all mine.
On our little missions, Aro encouraged me to bring back whatever art or books I found, and I had a place to actually put it. My rooms were filled with things I had collected. After a few years, I was even permitted to return to Mantua to see what had become of my family- though Felix and Demetri were with me. I was never permitted to be alone. Even when I left the city to hunt, Felix followed behind, grinning and teasing me, and trying to tempt me to try a human.
Once, at what I believed to be either Aro's or Jane's behest, there was a bleeding human left in my hunting ground.
I wasn't permitted to actually be alone- Aro told me it would be unsafe for any member of the Guard to be outside the city's walls alone, and foolishly I believed it was truly for my own security that he sent someone to follow me.
Felix was behind me that day, in a particularly boisterous mood as he plowed through trees recklessly. I couldn't help but laugh at his antics as we let our feet carry us swiftly across the hills, deeper and deeper into the dense forest. Once we were deep enough into the woods that I was sure no human would be out at such a late hour, I gave myself over to the hunt.
It's an interesting experience, especially, I think, for me. My control is such an inherent aspect of who I am, as is my humanity. I do not have to consciously think about shifting my weight, or bouncing my leg, or blinking. It's just something I do, as natural and second-nature as breathing.
So to become consumed by my instincts is an interesting experience for me. I no longer think about the blanket of stars in the sky, nor the cacophony of sounds of life teeming in the wild. It's all about the scent of blood.
I was tearing through the trees, my mind completely focused on the scent of a wolf pack I placed about two miles from me. I didn't bother with silence or stealth- I liked when they tried to run. Even better when they tried to fight.
Everything was completely devoted to the hunt. I could almost taste the musky blood of wolves on my tongue, their howls and braying was the only thing I heard. Until it hit me.
My throat was already on fire, the venom rushing freely as I prepared to drink for the first time in weeks. So the sweet smell of pure, gushing human blood was not only appealing, but cloying, completely clouding my mind.
Mine.
My path veered as the prey in my hunt changed. I needed that scent in my mouth, I needed the thick lifeblood to run down my throat. Maybe the dull burn of constant thirst would finally be alleviated if I only listened to what all other vampires had told me and gave in to my nature.
I came across her quickly, a growl ripping through my chest as I prepared to finally drink.
And I stopped.
She was young, not older than fifteen. Her hair was a soft brown, her skin a dark olive color, tanned from working in the sun. Her plain face was freckled and pleasant, but twisted into an expression of pain and terror. Her eyes were closed and she seemed asleep, but her heart throbbed and her breathing was ragged and uneven.
And the blood. Oh, the blood.
Her lacerations were even and deliberate, as if someone sliced all her major arteries- wrists, neck, thighs, deep enough so the blood flowed freely, but lightly enough that she didn't bleed out. Her body was pale and trembling from the blood loss, and my bloodlust dissipated.
She was so soft, so vulnerable.
It's not that she reminded me of anyone I knew. She didn't look like any friend of mine, nor member of my human family. But she easily could have been. Not having a personal connection to her didn't make her any less a person. She had a family somewhere, perhaps a beau who would miss her deeply.
Felix watched from a distance as I stopped dead in my tracks mere feet from the girl, my mind reeling with the stop in my hunt. Then, I bent down and carefully ripped my clothing for rags, pressing them to her wounds to stop the bleeding. My tattered dress was soaked through, the shining crimson turning dark as it oxidized, but eventually the cuts clotted.
She had lost a great deal of blood, though. I wasn't sure if I could preserve her life. I gently picked her up, careful not to jostle her, but she didn't stir. I imagined she was too drained to reach consciousness, her body doing anything possible to fight off the cool call of the void.
I ran smoothly, searching for one of the tiny towns on the base of a rolling hill that I was familiar with through my hunts in the area. It took mere minutes to get there, but I could feel the beat of her heart fading, struggling to pump with so little blood in her.
There was a small tavern, quiet and still at the late hour, though I knew that the location was frequented by travelers going from Florence to Bologna. Holding her carefully in my arms, I carefully opened the door and slipped inside.
There was no one on the first level of the building, and only four heartbeats in rooms upstairs, all steady in a deep sleep. I gently laid her on a table, then quickly moved about the kitchen, sniffing out what I thought I would need.
Medicine was more primitive then, and we certainly didn't have access to blood transfusions. I retrieved clean cloth, warm water, a needle and thread, and soap. I was grateful for our locale, though our situation was precarious as her life hung on by a thread- northern Italy was the epicenter of soap making during the Renaissance period, and it was readily available even in rural areas.
I listened as her heart softly beat, carefully cleaning the wounds and stitching the deep cuts so no more blood could flow from her depleted veins. I couldn't hear Felix, but I knew he would be nearby, and I wondered how she had ended up in the middle of the forest, near no path and wearing no shoes, with careful slices on her skin. It was certainly deliberate, and that was how my mistrust of the Volturi began.
She ended up surviving, much to my own surprise. After stitching her wounds, I carefully dripped water down her throat, mere drops at a time so she couldn't choke, but enough to hydrate her.
After several hours, day began to break and I was forced to move us surreptitiously to one of the empty rooms up the stairs. Before the humans could begin to move about, I gathered more cloth, and found food I figured would be good for her.
Humans were not aware of iron in the blood until 1713, but the keen smell of a vampire paired with the heightened awareness of blood made the biological importance of the metal obvious. We can smell the fear, the pleasure, the vitamins, even before a name was assigned to it. So I selected the red meat available, vowing to compensate the owner of the establishment, and broke it into small pieces. I held her head in my hand and placed them in her mouth, helping her to chew before she began to do so for herself.
I gave her more water, and covered her body as she fell into a heavy slumber.
I slipped through the window and entered the tavern, a dirty young woman with a dress in tatters, and begged the man who owned the place for a room to stay in, smiling and pouring all the power I could muster into influencing him with my eyes. He blinked excessively but capitulated, and I led him to the room the girl was in and left him stammering at the door.
I held a constant vigil at her bedside until she came to three days later, dutifully cleaning her wounds and giving her sustenance. Her eyes fluttered open, and her voice broke with soreness, but she remembered nothing of her attack, and pleaded with me to take her home. I left her in her own bed, miles away, relatively confident that she was strong enough to recuperate on her own.
When I returned to Volterra, Felix hot on my trail, no one commented on my extended absence, and I could not confront Aro without fear of retribution. Likely he would just brush it off as some practical joke played by Felix, and tease me for being so wholly un-vampiric, so unnatural. There was no value placed on human life, and no understanding for how I viewed humans not as inconsequential food, but as friends and people. If I had voiced my concerns, I would have been brushed off and suspicion would have been sowed.
I had grown wary of the Volturi, but a new bond forced me to stay. My frustration with a lack of control of my gift had caused me to give up, but soon after the incident with the girl in the woods, Demetri offered his help.
"I am aware that my gift is not like yours or Jane's, but I also do not think your gifts are very similar," he began, leading me to one of the stone chambers on the lower levels of the turret, an empty and cold room with no windows.
"With my gift, I seek out the tenor of another's mind. But it is not as if I can tell where everyone is at any moment, I have to actively seek them out. It's as if…" he said, searching for a description of the elusive thing in my mind I had been trying to pin down for years, "It's this thing, for lack of a better word, in my mind that I stretch out, searching for the person. I recall the person's mental voice and focus on it, then reach out."
It seemed a new approach, rather than having Jane grit her teeth as she tried to stun me with pain, yelling at me to focus on the pain and maybe I would feel it. I never felt it, never felt any sense that she was doing anything to be other than glaring and angrily snarling.
But to feel something in my mind? To reach out with it, treating it as an appendage to be exercised and stretched into use?
I spent hours trying to feel my own mind, searching for something tangible to bend to my will. Demetri stood with me, calmly encouraging me and providing undetailed advice about how to find the tangibility of my gift.
After searching, my eyes squeezed shut as I concentrated on understanding my own mind, I felt it. It felt like a skin inside of my, wrapped tightly around me with no flexibility or give. I couldn't move it, but it was such a relief to feel this thing inside of me that I had spent years searching for to no avail. I laughed, delighted to feel it, and Demetri cheered next to me, seemingly excited for me.
So while I no longer took great joy in being in Volterra, I couldn't leave. Now I had something to work towards.
It was with either Alec or Demetri that I practiced. I had no need for Jane's useless guidance, and didn't want her to inflict pain on anyone else as I tested the clinging skin of my shield.
It took decades of work to move it out of my mind and cover another, eventually able to mold it to their body. At first, I could expand it to cover someone near me, but if, say Alec, moved under the shield physically, stood between myself and the person I was shielding, he could use his gift on them; though it still didn't work on me, a fact that Aro was most intrigued by.
Most of the seventeenth century happened with little attention from me. I still accompanied the Guard occasionally, but I felt so devoted to practicing my gift. There were uncountable advancements in science and art that I let slip past me- I could have met Galileo, I could have discussed the Last Theorem with Fermat, I could have gazed upon paintings from Vermeer or Rembrandt while they were still in progress. But I was consumed with practicing this skill.
When I first joined the Volturi, before I had access to exercising my gift at will, I took time away for myself, taking time to see the original staging of Othello at the Globe. I was one of the first to read Don Quixote, and I emerged from Volterra to track down Cervantes and beg him for the second part to his classic novel. He gave me a rough draft he had written, and promised to release Part Two soon after, which he did. I still have the fragile papers he gifted me, carefully stored in a cool, dry container to preserve them.
But after my revelation, I entombed myself in vampires for decades, leaving Volterra only to hunt and for the occasional mission. I spent more time with Aro, practicing shielding others from his gift, which he found equal parts delightful and frustrating. I left Volterra so infrequently, it was like I had completely lost touch with humanity. Looking back, I can only be grateful that I did not harbor a thirst for human blood like other vampires, because my humanity was slipping away.
I left Volterra only a handful of times from the early sixteen hundreds until the turn of the century.
Once was during the Fronde. The bloody civil wars in France were drawing vampires eager for easy prey, and the vampires were drawing attention as they reveled in the violence. I was dispatched with Alec, Jane, and Felix to destroy those who risked our secret, and we made quick work of it before returning to Volterra. But while I was in France, I came across works by Moliere and grew entranced with his mastery of satiric comedy. A decade later, I traveled to Paris, Demetri as my companion, to watch L'école des femmes, a play which so outrageously criticized the limited education given to women, even those from wealthy families, that it forced me to dwell on my own family.
My parents had never been like that. I was just as educated as my brothers- I would have argued more so- and both my mother and father favored me above their sons. It made me yearn for them, their faces hazy in my human memory but so dear and precious I could never forget the imprint of their love. I grasped at the memory, determined to hold them in my mind and not let them go.
I returned to London in 1660 to watch a new staging of Othello at the Cockpit Theatre, this time featuring a female lead. It was incredibly engaging, and I felt myself drawn in with the crowd as we chanted for Desdemona's death. It was comforting to blend in again, to be a part of a moment in history. I can still smell the sweat of the actors and the audience mingling with the rush of blood and adrenaline, the air sweet and intoxicating. There, I wasn't the center of attention amongst a group of powerful vampires. I wasn't a spectacle for abstaining from human blood, nor did anyone know or care about my growing supernatural gift. No, there I was just another person in the crowd, enthralling with a brilliant work as a classic tale came to life.
But these moments were infrequent, and after the mid-seventeenth century, I truly only left Volterra to hunt. I spent my time practicing my gift with any number of the gifted vampires in the Guard, and training to fight with Felix and Santiago. I earned a darker robe, signaling my place in the upper echelons of the Volturi hierarchy, and Aro started keeping me closer and closer to him. He saw me as a new pawn in his plan to maintain absolute control- now, no psychic gift could ever impact any member of the Guard. With the strength in numbers and my flexible and impenetrable shield, there could never even be a semblance of a threat to the Volturi.
But everything changed in 1700.
I was reading Athalie in my chambers, the play providing a small break in my practicing. I had been working with Marcus, surprisingly, trying to see if I could shield people from him. Marcus is a stoic man, completely numb from the loss of his mate centuries before, but apparently working with me provided him with a small distraction. Marcus can see the ties between people- the strength, the type, the relationships, though he cannot manipulate said ties. That job was Chelsea's- who ensured those in the Guard were committed to the Guard and would not be pulled away.
I could hear the murmuring in the second reception hall, the one that led to the main turret and throne room. Figuring Heidi had returned with a group of humans to be massacred in the throne room, I did my best to block out the noise, devoting all my attention to the brilliant Racine play before me.
I ignored the goings on above. I had been with the Volturi for one hundred years, and I was hyper-aware of everything they were doing, the joy they took in torture and kill. But it was winter, and Christmas always brought on my melancholy. I could recall with such crystal clarity the joyous holiday seasons with my family, children climbing about, music filling the halls.
My favorite memory was the Christmas of 1508. It was the last year all of my children spent together- the eldest would be married by the next year, and the youngest just four months old. The children put on a skit, singing and dancing with remarkable coordination and weaving a tale of adventure and whimsy. They were all so wonderful, so smart, so talented.
I stared absentmindedly at the page before me as I recalled the absolute, overwhelming love and adoration, and I felt an ache in my chest where my heart rested silently. I missed them all so much. Even in my sequestered state, I still continued to be updated on what was happening with my remaining descendants- so many flourishing and happy.
"…Isabella…"
Hearing my name snapped me out of my memory painfully.
I stored my book away and silently travelled through the stone halls, trying to eavesdrop on whatever conversation I had been mentioned in. I slipped up the steps to the top of the turret where the throne room was situated above the walled city.
Demetri and Santiago were standing just outside, their expressions unreadable.
"Ah, Isabella…" Santiago greeted, looking to Demetri, his superior, for direction. Demetri seemed just as confused, and I wondered what had them in such a state. I did not smell fresh humans, and no blood hung heavily in the air. I had thought that they were feeding, but it seemed I was wrong. But someone was in the throne room with the three brothers.
"They are just greeting a guest. We intercepted him entering the city." Demetri said, his tone polite and his face blank.
I nodded, accepting the answer. We often received visitors- Aro, Marcus, and Caius were thousands of years old and had many acquaintances, and occasionally we found the rare nomad who had stumbled upon us.
But they had mentioned me.
It was not common to discuss any member of the Guard, even a transient one. The gifts of Jane and Alec were common knowledge to encourage widespread fear, but as my shield had yet to be needed, I knew Aro planned on keeping me a secret. A surreptitious weapon against any coven or gifted vampire who dared oppose their rule.
"I would like to meet our guest, if at all possible," I smiled, knowing that everyone inside would hear me.
"Of course, Isabella. We wouldn't want to be rude," Aro called for me. Demetri nodded, and Santiago pushed open the door.
I scanned the room. Marcus sat in his throne, a marble statue with dead eyes. Caius and Aro were facing me, and the new vampire faced them. As I entered the room, he turned around.
He was tall, medium- build with collar-length thick blond hair. His face was sculpted, his nose strong, his lips full. Handsome, even for a vampire. But that wasn't what drew me to him.
His eyes were a remarkable, sparkling topaz.
The day I met Carlisle, my humanity was restored in full. He was kind and compassionate in a way I had never known was possible with our kind. His abstention did not come from innate self-control, rather he had to work to resist the call of human blood. He simply valued life far too highly to take it.
He, like me, had been a wayward traveler before he sought out the Volturi. After his change, he fought his nature and attempted to self-destruct before his burning thirst drew him to drain animals, and he realized he did not have to be the monster he feared.
He wandered Europe for thirty seven years, practicing control around humans and reigning in his thirst. When he was sure he would not be a danger, he began to integrate into human society, as I once had, attending universities and learning all he could. Like me, he appreciated the arts, and attended plays as often as the weather allowed him outside. We spoke extensively about literature, arguing about the finer points within Descartes's Principles- Carlisle was adamant that the proposition cogito ergo sum- I think, therefore I am- indeed proved the existence of God, or in the very least a higher being, as Descartes posited. I disagreed, arguing that the fact that we exist proves the nature of mind and body, but not of spirit or soul, as these are intangible elements which cannot be proven or disproven.
We sat around for hours, days, months, discussing philosophy and laughingly accepting our differences, as I would begin to grow upset that he did not see things the way I did, and Carlisle was wholly nonconfrontational, which further stoked my anger.
I grew distant from the Guard as my bond to Carlisle formed. I still practiced, and I still accompanied them on missions when I was called, but there was no laughter anymore. My desire for contact and coven was being cemented with one that was not in the Volturi, and Aro could not have been more displeased.
As I trained with Renata and Chelsea, he looked on in worry. I could shield at least five vampires, and as long as they remained near me, they were immune to the psychic gifts. They could run at Renata, their relationship ties could not be broken or formed by Chelsea, Jane could cause them no pain. I had created an immunity to the gifts of many vampires, but no longer was I a weapon to be utilized, but rather a threat to be feared. I had no emotional ties for Chelsea to manipulate, and I no longer needed the Volturi for civility or companionship now that I had Carlisle.
Carlisle was curious about the Volturi. He, like me one hundred years before, had never encountered such civility among our kind. His experience was limited to the rare nomad, usually feral and uninterested in anything but blood and primal desires. And, for a time, he enjoyed the company of so many others, though he was horribly affected by the death that was so commonplace within the castle.
Carlisle spent a great deal of time with Aro, who was impressed with how Carlisle had practiced so ardently at his self-control, and whose eyes still darkened when he entered the throne room, the light scent of blood still clinging to the stone.
Carlisle is a naturally curious man, and listened with great interest as Aro regaled tales of Ancient Greece, the foundation of the Volturi, the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, and all other human events Carlisle had always wondered about. Then, they discussed vampiric history- immortal children, the Romanians, how various members of the Guard were found and joined.
Carlisle delighted in receiving Corin's gift to imbue the recipient with an intoxicating- and addicted- happiness, though I shielded him from the full force of it. I couldn't be sure, but I thought Aro noticed. In fact, I kept a soft shield around Carlisle most of the time he was near me, and he was rarely far away. He would still feel pain if Jane decided to inflict it upon him, but it would not be to the same severe degree others felt it. Theoretically, Chelsea could try to pull him into the Guard, but whatever tie she created would be weak and break. I had to protect the gentle man I was growing to love in whatever way I could.
The years past, and Carlisle began to grow uncomfortable as well. We hunted together, and someone was always following us. We started to roam the villages that surrounded our hunting grounds, enjoying joining human liveliness at taverns or festivals. We went to plays together, and searched out great literature in any and all languages. We enjoyed art and sculpture, and followed every advancement in science and technology closely. So much was happening in the world I had shut out, and I greedily listened as Carlisle filled me in on all that I had missed as we educated ourselves on the current.
But we needed to leave the Volturi. That much was clear. The hostility was growing with my gift. As I strengthened, so did the fear of me. I had no intention of harming anyone, or of affecting any ties within the Volturi. But Aro couldn't know that because he couldn't read my mind, and I couldn't breach the topic because he would interpret it as haughtiness and an act of aggression.
And balancing everything- Aro, the Volturi, the Guard, training physically and mentally, and again cultivating my humanity and my new friendship- was exhausting me, and I told Carlisle such.
He looked at me shrewdly, his golden eyes searching. After a moment, he nodded and looked away to the patch of loosened soil from where I had buried my kill.
"You wish to leave?" he asked quietly, keeping our voices from whomever had followed us out.
"I cannot be here any longer," I sighed, biting my lip in worry, "It is draining me, this façade. And watching as so many die, and I cannot do anything… I know you feel the same."
"So many lives lost," Carlisle shook his head, his beautiful face twisted in anguish, for as much as I valued human life, Carlisle viewed it as almost sacred. "So what shall we do?"
"I would like to travel to the New World," I told him hopefully, avoiding the deeper question of what to do about actually leaving, "There are so many things I have not seen. We could help people, Carlisle, and actually save lives." Ever since I had told Carlisle about the girl I had saved in the forest, broken and bleeding and on the brink of death, he was enthralled with the idea of being able to actively save others.
"There is bound to be war and famine in those lands," he admitted, "And access to medicine is likely limited."
"Not to mention the thrill of a new land, a different, undocumented culture," I said excitedly.
"Are you allowed to leave?"
"I am not held here by anything. I wish no harm on those who have shown me such hospitality, I only wish for a new life. I am sure Aro will understand." I said confidently, though I was anything but. It was a careful manipulation on my part.
"Are you sure?" Carlisle asked uncertainly.
"Of course! Aro is a just vampire, and the Volturi is the very definition of the rule of law. We have broken no law, and pose no threat. All I wish is to live in peace. I am grateful to Aro for his magnanimity, but do you not feel it is time to embark on a new life?"
"Yes, I share in your weariness. The presence of death is consuming here, and there is so much to learn outside the walls of Volterra."
"So we shall leave?"
"Yes, we should. And, if I may say, the sooner the better," Carlisle offered a small smile in consolation, and I felt hope blossoming like the bud of a morning-glory, brilliant but fleeting. I dusted the dirt off of my hands and pulled Carlisle to me, running with him at my side back to the high walls of our prison.
We told Aro that night. Jane and Alec were away, and Caius was off with his mate, Athenodora, leaving only Marcus, Santiago, and Renata in the room.
"Hello Carlisle, Isabella! Did you enjoy your little hunt?" Aro asked patronizingly, his brow arched expectantly. Even after over a hundred years, he was still mystified by my diet.
"Yes, thank you. It was very satiating," I said politely, smiling back at him. I was always careful to conceal my feelings, not letting Aro see my discomfort or distaste. I had been planning for this day since I first looked upon Carlisle- it was twenty years in the making, and I could not let my anger get in the way.
"We came across a pack of wolves- a delightful alternative to the herbivorous or omnivorous counterparts," Carlisle commented good-naturedly, reaching out his hand to show Aro our hunt, and the conversation that followed. This was why I had never confessed my fears to Carlisle, why I kept the danger of my gift concealed from him. I wished to tell him everything, but I did not want him knowing how much of a threat Aro viewed me as because, in this moment, Aro had to think that I was simply jaded with a life of permanence, and uncomfortable with their diet, and that was all.
"Oh, no!" Aro cried, genuine sorrow spreading across his paper-white face. "Brother," he turned to Marcus, "dear Isabella and Carlisle intend to leave us!" Marcus's milky eyes darted to me with unusual dexterity, then to Carlisle, then back to me. Slowly, as if it took him a great deal of effort, Marcus reached over and brushed his hand against Aro's softly and swiftly before returning to his previous position.
"Ah," Aro clucked, "That is most revealing. Thank you, brother." He turned back to us. "This greatly saddens me! You are both so dear to me, to all of us."
"Aro, I am so thankful to you for your hospitality and help. When I came to you, I was lost and lonely, and you gave me a place to call home, and I will be eternally grateful to you for that. But Carlisle and I are different, as you know, and I think we should like to strike out on our own." I reached over and grabbed Carlisle's hand in mine to demonstrate our ties to one another.
"Oh, is there anything I can do to convince you to stay with us?" Aro begged, his face a mask of concern and sadness, but I knew there was something deeper.
"I'm afraid not," Carlisle shook his head, "We simply seek a life together, alone." My eyes darted to Carlisle nervously. Alone? Was he playing the game also? But surely Aro would know…
"But what shall you do?"
"I think we'd like to go to the New World. New towns are being established every day, and I think we'd like to see the region before it is completely destroyed by colonialism," I said.
"And with so much hostility, there is bound to be fighting and disease. I think… well, I think I'd like to help people heal, as much as I can," Carlisle said softly, the longing clear in his voice and revealing his tender nature.
"Is that even possible?" Aro asked.
"Master," I started, using the title so many others in the Guard addressed him as to appeal to his ego and imply my subservience, "You know I was able to nurse that girl I found back to life. For Carlisle to do as he wishes, it will take practice and patience, but I believe I am the person best suited to help him in this endeavor."
Aro paused, studying us. Marcus still sat on his throne, idly staring off at nothing with no comment or care. Renata stood right next to Aro, constantly vigilant though she knew that her gift to physically deflect an attack would have no impact on me.
We waited. The room was dark, snow falling outside and obscuring the faded light that would stream in from the ceiling. The scent of blood was faded in this room, but it was still there, permanently soaked into the stone floor.
I tried to stand still, to let Aro deliberate. It is in my nature to fidget and move like a human, so ingrained in my behavior, that to be completely vampiric actually takes effort. But I became stone, my hand tethering me to Carlisle as Aro contemplated what to say next.
"Isabella, you have only been with us for a little over a century. And Carlisle, I think of you as like a brother, my young friend. I only wish you happiness, wherever you may find it. Of course, you may go in peace." Aro said finally, and I felt some tension dissipate. Carlisle broke into a wide grin, squeezing my hand in victory.
"Thank you, Aro. We so appreciate your kindness and generosity," Carlisle thanked him diplomatically.
"I only ask two things of you," Aro said, holding his thumb and index finger out to demonstrate, "First, that you remember our laws. If you are planning on integrating into human society, you will be noticed. No human can know of our kind, and we will not tolerate suspicion or rule breaking," Aro was deadly serious, and the fear returned. This man had survived thousands of years with absolute power for a reason. "And second, that you visit me again. I do not know what I will do without your moral arguments, Carlisle, or your presence and practice, Isabella." His face softened with a smile, which I returned in kind.
"We would never even think of breaking the law, Master. I have been here for one hundred years, and I understand very well the importance of our laws, and those who enforce them," I vowed solemnly, trying to drive in my point that I did not pose a threat to him.
"And of course we will visit, friend," Carlisle promised.
"Then go, my strange and unnatural friends. Isabella, please leave your robes here, and if you wish to store any of your belongings, your rooms will be kept for you and left undisturbed. This I can promise you. And you both always have a place here, if you wish to return."
"I cannot even begin to profess my gratitude, Aro. Thank you so much." I began pulling Carlisle back with me, anxious to be away lest anything happened that could ruin the moment. Caius was still gone, but he could return at any moment, and he would have no qualms about forcing me to stay, or even destroying me. Aro practiced patience, always playing the long game, but Caius was vicious in his immediacy, and he was a risk we couldn't take.
"Thank you indeed, friend. We will meet again, one day," Carlisle promised, and we were off.
I bade quick farewells to Demetri and Santiago, but I had no intention of sticking around to see anyone else off.
I ran to my rooms and threw together only two bags with my things. I would be leaving behind so much- paintings I had collected, first edition novels, clothing, letters. I didn't have the time to arrange for transporting all my belongings.
I gently placed letters I had kept from my family. Correspondence with my brother and sister, notes from my mother and father, the important letters from my children and grandchildren, all long deceased but so close to my heart. I had a few sketches from my friend Leonardo da Vinci, and the completed portrait he painted for me and I had always cherished.
I tore off my dark grey robe and laid it on my chaise lounge, slung my bags over my shoulder, and met Carlisle in the first reception at the entrance of the castle. He had said goodbye to the only person he had formed a real connection with, a young vampire named Eleazar, who had just joined the Guard a few years before but was highly valued due to his gift of being able to identify the gifts of others.
Carlisle slipped his hand in mine, and we moved through the city silently, blending into the shadows of the soft flurries that fell from the hazy sky. Songs of Christmas and family filled the air, and the hope in me bloomed.
We didn't celebrate until we were hundreds of miles away from Volterra. Once outside the city walls, we sprinted as far as we could for as long as we could, not stopping until we reached France, and even then, we hunted and kept running.
We stopped in Portugal and, with a gorgeous but meaningless tiara that Aro had given me decades ago, we purchased a ship for ourselves.
Maybe it would have been easier, and faster, to swim. But I couldn't bear to be parted with the few possessions I still had, with the only pieces I had from my history that reminded me of my family.
My family.
I would never see them again. I could never go near Volterra again. Aro had been on the verge of not allowing me to leave, and with Caius there, I doubted I would have a second chance. I could only follow my descendants from afar but, as I looked over at Carlisle, his blond hair swirling in the wind like a golden halo, I realized that I was okay with that. I had a new family now.
I'm sorry for all the typos and errors throughout the story. I'm not a native English speaker, so sometimes there are issues in my grammar that have been pointed out to me after the fact.