Troubled Blood

It seemed like it hadn’t been that long since Estela had been taken in by the vampires. She didn’t sleep well, didn’t eat much, because being in a place where death dwelt made her terrified. The unknown tormented her mind: the Volturi had left her alive for a reason. Every time she thought about it, the image of Aro Volturi appeared before her. She considered various situations that would help her understand the motives of such an extraordinary act, but none of them led to a logical answer. Everything was too confusing. Mostly they only came to her to leave food or give her medicine. The vampire servants didn’t speak to her, but Estela didn’t want to have any contact with them. The events that had happened would not let her go for a long time yet. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a ghost: an ugly, thin face with dark circles under her eyes. The fourth day was no different from the previous three. All day and night she was in deep thought. Estela had expected that she would not be able to live this long. The unhealthy atmosphere and lack of freedom would kill her faster than the disease itself. It was late at night. Estela was already falling asleep. Unlike her gray and blurred life, she always had colorful dreams. In the dream world, she was happy because she was surrounded by loved ones and she was healthy. Estela often saw her mother running through the vast expanse of the forest, repeating the same words: “They took everything from us. I love you — remember that. No one can take that away.” She had never wondered why a person could have the same dream so many times. Yet she felt the phrases sounded like a true confession, evoking a longing for missed moments. She had always been curious about how life would have turned out if her mother, Yvonne, hadn’t disappeared. She rarely indulged in such thoughts because the pondering ended up hurting her to consider that, obviously, her mother was no longer alive. And now only occasionally realistic and colorful dreams gave her a brief but vivid simulation of everything she missed so much in real life. Tonight, however, the dream appeared in a different story: after a love-filled phrase, Yvonne brought her lips close to her daughter’s wrist. The kiss was so painful that it gave her deja vu: the pain was familiar. After a second, her memory replayed the images: Alec, the blood, the bite. The nightmare had woken Estela up in the middle of the night. The pain didn’t subside, because someone was really drinking blood from her wrist. She couldn’t see her attacker in the pitch darkness, but she could tell from the grip that it was a man. Aro Volturi was in the palazzo’s library at the time. Vampires' senses worked especially well at night. Since Estela’s arrival, the sound of her beating heart had filled the building. He had learned its rhythm well, constantly analyzing the pounding. Now Aro’s hearing was maximized: it was syncopated, which was very unnatural for a human being, unless he was unconscious. Throwing the manuscript on blood diseases, the vampire was at the door of the chambers with lightning speed. The heavy odor of blood hit his nose with the scent of a vampire he was painfully familiar with. The Volturi was deeply shocked. Overcoming the provoked thirst, he gulped down the poison. He managed to suppress his sudden rage with difficulty. The door opened abruptly, and Aro saw the scene: a girl trying to stop the bleeding on her wrist and an ancient vampire lying motionless on the floor. The huge walnut-sized eyeballs were protruding, lips frozen in mute shock. Marcus. They had to give her emergency treatment, which consisted mostly not in stopping the bleeding, but in calming her down. This time it was harder to convince Estela that she was safe, because she had barely gotten used to her new way of life, and suddenly now she was being disturbed again. She lacked fresh air and was thrashing around in a panic, so someone took her out into the garden. Volterra at night looked more romantic and instilled peace because it wasn’t as hot as it was during the day. Contemplating the rose bushes that the moonlight fell on, Estela tried to gather her thoughts. What was it? Were they missing the inexhaustible stream of tourists who wanted to go on the tour? After all, Aro had promised that no one would touch her here from now on. Marcus came to his senses at that time. He had been unconscious as long as Alec had been. Aro Volturi asked everyone to leave the chamber. He needed to talk to his brother alone. While Marcus cleaned himself up, Aro thought about the reasons for such an extraordinary, if not foolish, act. The oldest and wisest ruler, who had been indifferent to the world around him for thousands of years, suddenly finds himself in such a situation. Everyone knew that Estela’s blood was poisoned, so even strong vampires like Jane and Alec stayed away from her. - Her blood was poisoned, — Aro realized. He had every right to mete out justice. The mortal was supposed to help them further by recognizing the nature of her blood. And Marcus, against orders, had dared to trespass on her. He, already full of strength but with the same expression of disappointment on his marble face walked out of the bathroom. Aro caught his puzzled and slightly shocked look as he took a leisurely seat in one of the armchairs. They were alone now. - Is there anything you want to tell me, brother? — He asked in a colorless voice, though he was still waiting for an explanation. - You don’t know what it’s like without her, he whispered back. The whisper was like a dagger through his body, penetrating to the core. Aro realized who he was talking about. Marcus was talking about his dead spouse, Dydime. His only sister, who died so suddenly to everyone, only leaving a trail of happy memories. — I did it, hoping to die. But as you can see, her blood does not kill, it only makes you feel worse. Aro saw his brother’s head droop. Just a second ago there was not even a shadow of indifference in his eyes, he really believed that today would end his long and meaningless life. But now his whole appearance gave away his sadness and disappointment. Fury was replaced by humility — tomorrow he would attend the meal, discuss the impending war, in a word, exist as usual. They were silent for a while, remembering that distant time when the clan was just forming, when they had to fight other clans for power. Marcus exhaled and squeezed himself out: - I don’t want you to hold a grudge. I’m punished for the rest of my life for not keeping her safe, the words came slowly from his lips, mesmerizing his companion a little. Aro skillfully pretended to listen obediently, but no more. He was the only one who knew why Marcus was without his wife. But what was going on in his soul was comparable to a storm: it would only take a few seconds to lose Estela. Imagining what would have happened afterward was overwhelming. He would never have unraveled the nature of her body or come to a full realization of what else he had saved her for. An eternity of wondering what and how things could have been, existence would have returned to its former state, filled with the same monotony and banality. To his contentment, he was aware that the pain Marcus felt was a hundred times worse than the one that had just about befallen Aro. - We need you, brother. Marcus knew that someone like him was required for power. But at this moment, he felt there was another place for him that he would fit in better. The Overlord ignored what his interlocutor had said. He rose from his chair — the thick fabric of his black robe rustled as it touched the floor. His stately figure grew larger, and his face remained sad, but distorted by the return of calmness and peace. - I can see that despite this mortal’s short stay, you are already attached to her. It reminds me more of rare concern than sudden love. Either way, you must help her. She has weakened, but the passion for life can still be rekindled in her. Aro turned his head toward his interlocutor and continued to listen amazed, noticing that he looked as if he had descended from the underworld, because of the dark garb and the dark voice of the angel who had come to deliver the extraordinary news. Yes, he was an angel who had gone to hell because of one absurd and accidental mistake, but Marcus was still an angel. If he knew what it would take for Aro to hear such a thing, for he knew everything that went on inside the castle walls. But he would never let it show. The Volturi obediently accepted what he had heard and looked into Marcus' large eyes, in which the fire had long since died out. - Talk to her, — he said quietly. It was obvious to him what Aro was going to do, but he thought it would be a good idea to remind himself how important he was to the mortal. — She needs it badly. There is only a faint thread running from her to you in the castle. Nodding silently, Aro left the room. He couldn’t find the right words for what his brother had announced. Thank you? By all means? Marcus had a perfect idea of how his brother felt slightly differently about the newcomer. It was impossible to put a specific name to the feeling of warmth and inexplicable bliss that flowed through Aro’s soul. If Marcus had known that her own brother was the cause of Dydime’s death, would he have let Aro continue to realize everything he wanted? Would he not have killed him? And everyone Aro thought was important? Even that mortal? Pondering this without a dash of pessimism was absurd. Especially since he didn’t want to get attached to the girl. He only needed to scientifically explain the origin of her blood. Second was the gamut of such realistic and vile sensations that enveloped Aro every time he took her hand. Slowly floating on the ground, Aro found himself in the garden. Estela was sitting on a bench, deep in thought. It was so quiet that the vampire could only hear her breathing. She looked like a ghost in the moonlight. Unwillingly admiring the picture, the Volturi decided to put an end to the matter. The sudden appearance of his companion made the girl shudder — Estela instinctively shrank back and looked down at him. Her eyes flashed with a fearful sparkle, and her lips trembled in an attempt to say loudly a phrase that sounded too quiet because of fear: - I wish he had killed me. The Volturi narrowed his eyes. Too loud, but a perfectly expected phrase. He disregarded the panic in her words and muttered thoughtfully: - I was wrong to think that no one would hurt you here. I’ll have to take you away. Estela sighed. She clasped her wounded hand and turned around: - Leave me alone. I can’t bear another change. One day you’ll come into my chambers and find me dead. That will be the end of your entertainment, she said in a strained voice. - What was that all about? — The vampire arched an eyebrow questioningly. - After today, I’m sure it could happen at any moment, Estela parried, emphasizing the word “any”. - In this palazzo, the minimum age of the inhabitants is over a hundred years, Aro countered. Estela raised her eyebrows in surprise. Though what could one expect from this place? She pulled herself together quickly and blurted back: - So what? After living here for a couple weeks, I’ll magically live a long life too? You have to realize that I’m not you! I’m going to die! — she began to rage. The Volturi’s mood changed abruptly. With feline grace he approached the girl and, pulling back his robe, sat down beside her. Estela’s heart sank into her heels: he gave her a freezing chill that sent shivers down her spine. She was uncomfortable with him for a moment, Aro’s gaze boring into her: - We can take your life now, if it’s a hardship for you to live like this. What happened today was my brother’s mistake, but henceforth, no one will harm you again without an objective reason. - What do you want from me? — Estela dared to cast an emerald glance at her interlocutor. At that moment Aro clearly revealed one thought: it was worth hurrying to find a solution and study her blood. She was human in the fullest sense of the word: the physical indicators were obvious, and her patience was limited. She had no idea that the experiments could take a long time, and the pointless stay was only taking up her time and energy. - I want the truth about your blood. Why it affects us so much. - Have you ever considered that I may have a few months to go? Shouldn’t you hurry up your search? — Estela asked as indifferently as possible, though sometimes that question could ruin her mood for the whole day. - You have long ago noticed that the disease does not change its dynamics for a long time. How did it not alarm you until now? Or have you gotten used to living with it? No. Aro’s last question is what could have knocked her off her feet. Fear flashed across her face, then disappointment. - You already know everything without my answer. - I won’t jump to conclusions, but I think your inner state and this illness are interconnected, he said. The sober part of his mind demanded to speak only of Estela’s demonstrable usefulness in research. But Aro couldn’t help but mention what had happened to him in the throne room when he’d first taken her hand. Either the emotions in her head were showing too brightly on him, or he had imagined it at all. He wasn’t ready to deal with it yet, the question that had everyone concerned was at the forefront of his mind. He only briefly explained: - I know, along with that, there’s a lot of human kindness and love in you, — such a partially truthful answer startled and simultaneously angered Estela. She wrapped herself more tightly in the plaid, even though it was warm. - Excuse me? I don’t know why you need these qualities from me. I think about death every minute, and you’ve probably forgotten the meaning of the word. You don’t know what pain is, and you probably think it’s a good thing, but I think there’s nothing worse when you turn into an unfeeling creature, — she stopped abruptly, sensing that an extra word might make the man mad. But it took a great deal of strength to say it. He rose from his seat and walked slowly towards the palazzo. It was just as he had thought. She didn’t even want to wonder why her disease had stopped in its progress. She had no thoughts of death. Aro thought it unnecessary to argue with her. Though Estela should have been punished for such talk. He silently distanced himself from her. But the mortal had a point. Yes, physical pain had been absent from his life for a long time. And there was an emptiness in his soul, a lingering sense of an all too predictable eternity. The Volturi turned to look at the young woman, who, because of her age, allowed herself to speak so emotionally, even though her words contained serious thoughts. - We have a stronger sense of feeling than you do. - I don’t think so. Aro smiled wryly and said: - If you have the chance, you’ll see otherwise. More than once. Of course, the mortal was far from knowing the intricacies of vampire life, but somehow Aro was sure Estela would change her mind. After all, he’d never been wrong about anything. *** The next morning there was another meeting. The reason for the meeting was the vampire they’d caught. Felix and Demetri, deprived of the positive attention of the entourage, proudly brought the stranger in. He looked quite young, and his appearance didn’t attract much attention. Except for his red eyes that threw lightning bolts. He stood before the judges, kneeling with his head down. - We are waiting for an explanation, Caius began the proceedings. He sat on his throne with his head held high. The culprit growled and thundered: - You will soon be gone! Our clan has joined forces against your regime. You cannot win. There was an electrified silence. The Volturi hesitated between mocking the renegade and absorbing his words. - Who is your leader? — Caius interrupted the silence, clearly enjoying the questioning. The enemy was in no hurry to answer. Aro decided not to make a move on him and was at his side in a split second. The expression on the man’s face was distorted with anger and hatred. Felix stood behind him, ready to tear him apart at any second. Aro took his hand. The familiar face of the man who was now the leader of the enemy flashed before him. He couldn’t believe it was the man the Volturi had once heard of. He turned to his brothers and silently whispered the fateful name: - Arthur Fate, everyone froze in a daze. Each of them remembered him, but none of them could have suspected that he had become so powerful. The Volturi decided that the stranger was useless: he had already read all the information from his thoughts. With sudden aggression, he tore his head off. Everyone froze like a marble statue — this murder laid the seeds of a brewing hatred for the opponents of the supreme power. No one dared move. Aro alone turned and slowly returned to his seat. After a moment’s pause, he muttered: - Mr. Fate is going to give us a fight in which it is unlikely that we will come out unscathed. By deceiving people, he turns them into vampires, and from that he creates a powerful army. The Volturi have clashed with other clans many times in their existence. There have always been and will always be opponents of the authorities. Such conflicts were resolved by fighting, the time and place of which were announced in letters to the clan. Such letters sometimes made the vampires in charge laugh, because they were always sure of their victory. And they had won. But now everyone realized the vulnerability not only of the coven, but also of themselves. Tricking mortals into turning them into vampires for the sake of an army was a questionable and dangerous method of keeping secrets. - We need to raise an army, too, Caius said. - We can’t do it in a short time. We have to get started now, Aro said doomedly. - Arthur… We were wrong not to listen to his companion then, Marcus said suddenly. *** The night’s conversation didn’t want to leave Estela’s mind. The words Aro had said were imprinted in her mind and made her think about the nature of vampires. How could they be stronger in their senses? That was what troubled her the most. Of course, she took into consideration the fact that she had not been here long, which meant she did not yet have enough information about those she lived with. Some ghouls who occasionally drank blood that wasn’t humanely obtained could have deep feelings? Unless they’re cruel. After Marcus' incident, Estela had become more wary, as no one wanted to give in to the deceptive temptation of drinking poisoned blood. Occasionally, she’d run into other vampires, who’d just grin at her and go about their business. Luckily, her room was near the library. Aro let her borrow books. He was the only one who knew that human nature demanded self-development. As she walked down the long hall in search of the next copy, Estela suddenly came upon an unpleasantly familiar figure. Marcus Volturi seemed to be looking for something for himself as well. Or was he waiting for her? Her knees began to tremble with surprise. But the vampire, noticing her, kept his composure, even to the point of appearing indifferent. If he’d been acting unnaturally strange that night, Marcus looked gallant and confident now. When he met her gaze, the only thing he did was arch an eyebrow questioningly: - Oh, miss, it’s quite unexpected to meet you here, a bass overtone filled the vacuum of silence. — Since I have been given this opportunity, I would like to apologize for what happened. My actions were selfish and foolish. There seemed to be a sincere apology in his voice, but it was clear that Marcus was trying to act casual. He was very tall and pale: the girl thought she was facing a ghost. - Then what’s this all about? — Estela squeezed herself out. Marcus slowly turned his head back to the dusty folios, returning to the book he was about to read. The oblong face looked more enigmatic in profile. Words, like dispersed smoke, slowly escaped his lips. - Everyone saw that Alec was not well after drinking your blood. I thought a little more would have killed me. But, unfortunately, I’m alive, he answered her in a tone as if he were stating a mundane problem. The vampire was disappointed that he was alive. And in order to achieve his goal, he had to make an attempt on Estela’s life. However, she didn’t consider her invaluable. Nevertheless, it confirmed what she had said yesterday: the vampire’s invulnerable nature sometimes led to this kind of collapse. - Don’t you want to live? - Life without my only and beloved wife is a real bore, he said without a lie. His features were smooth and unnaturally white, as if he were wearing a death mask. But the eyes of the wise ruler blazed like rubies from the dark mines. So Aro had not lied to Estela. Vampires were capable of strong feelings. To be sure, she asked a question: - Are vampires capable of love, too? — She whispered, looking at him hopefully. Her question sounded incredulous to Marcus. Her first impression of immortals had affected her so negatively that she thought she’d been living with soulless predators all this time. But he didn’t judge her for that, but explained the peculiarities of their life: - Every immortal will go to any length to save their loved one. That’s what love is. You get one chance, and if you miss it, you lose the meaning of your existence forever, Marcus said in a measured voice, as if he’d memorized the line by heart. I guess he would never get used to the fact that he would never get another chance. Estela couldn’t find the right words to say in response. They would sound insensitive and inappropriate. People like her would not be able to cheer up, for they had no idea what it was like to live for thousands of years, carrying the heavy stone of longing for a lost love. Estela had never experienced it because she didn’t care for it. Her companions in life were treatments, painful procedures, tears. She was sure her life had turned out in the most unfortunate way. But looking at Marcus Volturi, she suddenly realized that it wasn’t all bad. If he was to spend eternity in gloomy loneliness, she would not have long to wait for her end.