The Holy Dark
"There are no miracles, no prayers answered - only accidents." He knows this well. They are one of these accidents. He's in the atmosphere because of it, protecting the other half of his elysian Soul from the danger her divinity attracts. He wants to go to her. But at what price? Eternal damnation. He doesn't care. He goes to her anyway. This is the story of Edward's journey to Bella, of the inner chaos Bella experiences from the second Edward touches down to Earth, and of the cataclysmic, destructive, ultimately forbidden love between two halves of a Soul that were ripped apart before there was even a chance at a beginning. Dark Themes. AH by default.
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And all that’s best of dark and bright . . .
. . . Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
Nothing like this had ever happened in their three thousand years.
This constant, overwhelming sensation. It was crippling. Distracting. He didn’t have time.
He knew that if he were sealed into a body, he would be beyond comprehending a feeling so strong. His lungs would drop; his heart would burst. It would be overload. There would not be enough room in his limited human shell to house such a staggering emotion.
But what was he to do? What choice did he have? Everything was already preconceived. The universe was already set in motion. There was no backing out. There was no decision.
He could not tell if this bothered or relieved him. His will had been taken away against his better judgment . . . but did he want it back? Did he want to be rid of this passion? He already Knew the answers. So why was he asking himself these questions? He was going in circles. Endless, endless circles.
With every sunrise brought by the planet’s rotation, he would watch her rise with it and walk the Earth, tormented by the fact that he could not walk the Earth with her without damning himself for eternity.
He didn’t have a clue about what to do, albeit the infinite Knowledge that was tied to being a mutated Soul. He Knew exactly where she was at every time of day. He could See her from every vantage point in the atmosphere. When a threat was posed, he Protected her from it. He would prevent a car crash by rousing the tired driver whose thoughts were otherwise occupied. He would steer away the rapist by turning his gaze to a different teenage girl, whom, in the mind of the pedophile, he saw as prettier . . . easier. He would inject regret into the robber’s conscience, and when he couldn’t, he would force the criminal’s eyes to look toward a richer individual It was not always in everyone’s best interest, but he had kept her alive these past seventeen years, which was a miracle in and of itself.
It was common to have to direct these dangers away from his half on Earth . . . but this incarnation in particular was a magnet for trouble. She was naïve, innocent, and so, so beautiful. She was an easy target, and everybody saw.
Oh, and how clumsy she was!
There was nothing he could do to shift the damned rock she tripped over on the sidewalk. There was nothing he could do to help her up when she fell down the stairs. And he could only watch, filled with dread, as she bumped head-on into person after person after person. Despite his greatest efforts over the past three millennia, he had quite thoroughly learned his lesson – the only way to Protect her was to influence the living that surrounded her.
The job was made easier with the Knowledge. There was not a sight that escaped him. There was not a thought that filtered through his mind unheard.
The only sights and thoughts he could not catch were hers.
To see her, he had to look through someone else’s eyes. To know her thoughts, he had to listen to the edited versions that fell from her lips, and to hear them, he had to borrow somebody else’s ears.
It was maddening.
When she was alone, he had to rely on the fact that he would Know when something threatened her artificial peace. If he didn’t pay attention – if he permitted himself to get caught up in the ceaseless questions he asked himself while she slept – the danger would come flooding in.
The danger that was attracted to the godlike qualities of their Soul.
The danger that would increase exponentially if he were to walk the Earth with her.
He no longer questioned their inimitable situation. He had given up on finding an answer to it centuries ago. All he knew was the history, the outcome, and the now. The motivation behind creating them, the reasons, how it happened – he would never know. And he didn’t think he would ever want to.
When they were still one Being, one whole Soul, Their mere existence wreaked havoc on the world around them. One would drop, dead, if their gaze fell upon Their divinity. The trees and flowers in Their lie of sight would shrivel and turn to dust, then flutter to the ground in piles of brown ash amidst the dead blades of grass. Tornados followed in Their footsteps while hurricanes formed in Their wake. The animals ran fast because their instincts screamed mercy, but they were never fast enough. As one entity, They were invincible. However, Their indestructibility was rendered completely void . . . for when everything within Their sight was destroyed simply because They existed, simply because They were, where was the joy to be found?
God spared them. Their divine Soul was halved in two. The process could only be described as terrible – it was a time that neither of them tried to remember . . . not that she was even able to remember. Not that she would recognize the truth if she were to ever hear it. Her human mind could only hold so many memories – and it was physically impossible for her complex brain to form the number of connections she would need in order for her to even begin to remember so far back into the past.
With no preventive capacity to restrain him, he drowned in his recollections. He expanded with every new sight and sound into the air, hovering over the mountaintops, invisible to the human eye. It was not out of the question that he could perhaps one day be sighted by a human in a crowd . . . but how could one see him, when they didn’t know to look for him? Humans could only see what their unoriginal, nondescript minds allowed them to see, so how could their unimpressive imaginations ever conjure up a creature such as he? They could not see the ninth color of the rainbow. They did not notice the Heavens that surrounded them. They couldn’t even answer the questions posed by the very planet they lived and breathed on – how could anyone ever expect them to notice him, a product of what could only be a very bored, very powerful hand?
He wished he could sigh. His opinions on the human race were not belittling – they were more easily composed of pity. Their world had so much to offer, but their bodies only perceived a sliver of it. And while so much pity swirled deep, a strong, boiling envy churned deeper, tingeing his thoughts green. They had the power to express the way they felt. They could make noise. They saw the world through real eyes. They were substantial, corporeal, and very much alive. He could not go so far as to call himself living – what kind of life was this, anyway, floating through the dark sky at a fixed point above her, waiting for her life to be jeopardized, waiting for her to die? For when she died, the pieces of their Soul would switch, and he would be the one living the beautiful life on Earth.
He didn’t wish this upon her. He didn’t want her to have this tedious, mundane existence amongst the clouds while she watched over him . . . again. Her lack of memory and her ignorance were the two things that saved her. Without her Knowing, she could have bliss.
He wanted to live with her.
He wanted to go to Earth.
Would she want him? Would she know him?
Would the onset of tragedy destroy her?
He Knew the answers to all of these questions.
Of course she would want him. She wouldn’t know him, but she would Know him. Deep within the core of her being, she would Know him. There was a connection between them, like a magnetic force. If he were to touch the Earth, he would be compelled to move closer to her. He could live with her . . . but at what price?
Heaven for her?
Hell for him?
He could easily push that consequence aside. It was inevitable for them to be separated in the afterlife, for if they were both sent to Heaven’s gate, would they endanger the safe haven that was paradise? It was not worth the risk. These were the terms they had agreed to – the one who finally cracked, the one who finally travelled to Earth before their time, would be the one to go to Hell, while the other went to Heaven. Did it really sound so bad when one compared it to the alternative? Because in the beginning, before they had begged clemency, both of them were doomed to the seventh fiery circle.
Earth, in ruins?
She would always have the option to push him away . . . but who was he to barge in on her peace and taint it with his evil? She was part of what used to be a monster, yet she was good. All the bad had gravitated towards him. He could only hope that it would stay that way, for he was too afraid that if he delved into his Knowledge to find the future, he would not be happy with it.
Everyone she loved . . . gone?
He could never dismiss this possibility when he reflected upon it. He wouldn’t ever be able to forget that his presence would only bring darkness and not light. No matter how much he desired, no matter how hard he willed it to be true, there would only be despair and not happiness.
Their love would be a desolate wasteland, lonely and foreboding, an island all its own. No one would be able to hold a candle to it, in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the term. No love would be as strong, but all the light in the world would eventually be extinguished.
He could not bring himself to care enough about the planet’s well-being. The only thing that had prevented him from going to her on the day she was born was the fact that she wouldn’t ever have been able to experience life on Earth the way it should be.
He wanted to be human for her, in every aspect of the word. He wanted to have his own Soul so that he didn’t have to worry about her surroundings’ downfall and the effect it would have on her.
Tears would be shed, and blood would be in their hands. Innocent people would die as their bond grew stronger, as their Soul slowly repaired itself. There would be nowhere to run, nowhere to flee.
He didn’t care.
It was on a whim.
He never did things on a whim.
But, with all his inhibitions tossed aside, at an unnatural speed, sparking flames that trailed in blue-violet ribbons behind him, he flung himself towards Earth.
Why did she always find herself in this position?
Sprawled on her back, the cloudy, grey sky as her ceiling. Her arms spread wide at her side, palms up. Her legs bent uncomfortably beneath her. The uneven sidewalk marking her, the little pieces of gravel sticking to her skin. And all the people gazing down at her, trying to help her up.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she reassured them, staggering painfully to her feet. Looking around, she saw a mass of shiny black hair and russet-colored skin bobbing a head above the rest of the crowd that had accumulated outside of building three.
“Bella,” Jacob sighed, sounding relieved. He took her in his arms and crushed her to his large form, and she gasped, wincing. Her side was throbbing. Another bruise to add to the collection.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He let her go, but kept a strong arm wound around her waist. She felt a little wobbly. The people were walking to their classes again, all interest lost once they saw that, once again, the infamously clumsy Bella Swan had survived yet another fall. They followed the crowd, trudging through the ever-present mist to get to the cool, dry lunch room.
She heard Jacob chuckle. Was he laughing at her? His smile was wide, his teeth shockingly white against his dark skin, and a dimple popped up in his chin. The shove she was about to aim at him turned into a half-hearted elbow nudge. She couldn’t be mad at that smile.
Now he was shaking his head. “There isn’t a day that goes by, Bella,” he laughed, pulling her with him to the lunch table where their friends sat. Jacob dropped into his usual seat near Ben and Tyler, and she settled beside him, next to Alice and Angela. Angela noticed the tender way Bella moved and smirked knowingly, tossing her long black hair behind her shoulder.
“Don’t be giving me shit about it, too,” Bella threatened lightly, tossing her bag onto the table. She pulled out an apple and bit into it, throwing a joking glare towards Alice, just in case she decided she wanted to smirk too. Her tripping over everything in sight was a sensitive subject.
“Shit about what?” Angela asked innocently, bringing a forkful of mystery meat to her mouth. Bella shuddered internally. How did she eat that stuff?
Alice was unfazed by Bella’s glare. She didn’t even think Alice noticed the exchange, because she immediately launched into one of those stories that kept on going until she got to the point. Or until a shopping excursion was up in the air.
“You’ll never guess what happened during second bell,” Alice proposed around a mouthful of food. Bella didn’t even bother trying to guess, because she knew Alice would have cut her off the second she opened her mouth. “Jasper sat beside me!”
Oh, great. There wouldn’t be a point this time.
They rolled their eyes. They would never understand Alice’s obsession over the tall, brooding blond. He didn’t talk to anybody besides Emmett, who was, impossibly, even scarier than Jasper. They were just . . . trouble. But neither Angela nor Bella were convincing enough when they tried to dissuade Alice away from Jasper, so all they could do was hope she moved on. Their prayers were obviously not being answered.
“Um . . . I would have never guessed, Alice,” Angela said dryly. “But what’s the big deal?”
Alice’s bright blue eyes were shiny and wide. “He always sits in the corner, Angela! That is the big deal,” she complained. “And I was sitting in the middle of the classroom. He never sits in the middle of the classroom! And he looked at me . . . He doesn’t look at anyone. Anyone!”
Listening to her little speech made Bella realize how utterly blind Alice’s infatuation had made her. She had just intentionally admitted Jasper was an outcast, by choice no less, and she had still managed to make him sound exciting. Bella couldn’t fully comprehend the excitement. Sure, he had that whole “tall, dark, and handsome” thing going for him. But why did that matter when his eyes were so full of . . . nothing?
“Maybe he’ll say hi soon . . . ,” Alice thought aloud. Her eyes glazed over. Bella felt so terrible for her. She really had it bad. That was why she pretended to listen to her when she lapsed into the usual gushing over his dreaminess.
Until the cafeteria brightened considerably.
Angela pulled Bella out of the dazed stupor she had slid into while Alice was talking about Jasper, and she pointed to one of the tall windows that had been built to let in as much of the minimal amount of sunlight Forks had to offer. She actually squinted against the light.
“Alice,” she said loudly, looking straight at her. She was staring over Bella’s shoulder at nothing, thinking she was still talking to her. “Alice!”
“. . . and then he just, like, ran his hand through his hair and sighed . . . What?” Her eyes were clear again. Back to reality. And she squinted a little bit too.
“Is that the sun?” Alice squealed, and she clapped her hands. “Come on, let’s go get a table in the courtyard before they all fill up!” She grabbed them both by the wrists and pulled them towards the double doors that led out to the sodden, underused square of grass littered with picnic tables. Bella caught her bag before she had taken them too far.
“Bye, Jake!” Bella called, and he waved back.
Her feet were dragging along the wet ground, digging into the soft dirt, and so were Angela’s. They were some of the first ones out there, but that didn’t stop Alice from shooting like a bullet towards the table right in the center – the one with direct access to the sun. Bella was impressed with her strength; she was pulling a little over two hundred pounds behind her, undeterred, propelled by her undying enthusiasm over the little things.
“Alice, the table isn’t going anywhere,” Angela tittered, and they plopped down beside her.
“Okay so anyways . . . ,” Alice continued, immediately revisiting her half-aware state of mind. It was easier for Bella to block her out when she was surrounded by the warmth she had taken for granted back in Phoenix. She closed her eyes and laid her head down on the table, feeling at peace, but even then Alice didn’t stop her incessant chatter.
Suddenly, she was jolted awake, being shaken roughly by both of them.
“Bella! Bella, look!” They were both staring up at the sky, and so were a couple other people that had trickled outside with them.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s the sun . . . ,” she mumbled. “It’s not an endangered species.”
“No, Bella, it’s not the sun! Look, before it goes away!”
Disgruntled, she turned her gaze in the direction of their pointed fingers, and her eyes took on a similar look to the people that surrounded her.
There, in the midst of the bright blue, in the middle of the day, was a shooting star. Flickering, indigo streams trailed behind the glowing mass as it streaked slowly across the sky, lighting up the grey clouds around it so that they shone with an aura of violet. She had never seen anything like it – her eyes grew impossibly wider with every inch of sky the star claimed.
But, once the wonder passed, a strange, ominous sense of foreboding settled into the pit of her stomach.
And the worst part was . . . she didn’t even know why.