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"Have you never desired something more than this life, Sage Volturi?"
"My desire is to survive, Sir Carlisle, and I intend to continue to do so."
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Sage remembered the 1700s. Mostly, she stood by Aro's side, or in the shadows, and observed everything. Sometimes, Aro would give her the task of killing a vampire who wronged the Volturi by almost exposing their kind to the world, and she would shred them to pieces. Sage did not wish to recall it, but it was one of her stronger memories, one that stood at the forefront of her mind, especially now.
Carlisle Cullen had been present during two decades of the 1700s. He came one evening and remained with them for twenty years afterwards, his skin as pale as the snow that kissed the air, his face more beautiful than any vampire Sage had seen.
And. . . his eyes.
They were golden, not red. At first, Sage did not understand what was happening. She had believed that a human had cloaked themselves somehow and snuck into the throne room, and her first instinct had been to protect. To kill the intruder before Aro or the others could be harmed (a foolish thought since humans were weak and fleshy and stood no chance against them).
However, the man held no heartbeat. He was undead, just as they were. It was eerie. How did he possess such eyes when he was a vampire? It was not possible. There were only two colors. Crimson and black.
How?
"I do not drink the blood of humans," he explained to Aro one night. "I gain my strength from animals instead."
And that was fascinating to Sage. Something she snuffed as soon as she thought it, but a fascinating thought indeed. To drink the blood of animals rather than humans? Could it be. . . ?
No. Sage would drink from humans as she always did. Her place was in Volterra with her coven, with her responsibilities. Aro was her master, and she had mastered all of her siphoned powers. She was his closest guardian and protector. There was no time to be thinking of such thoughtless endeavors such as drinking animal's blood. How could she have dared?
Even still, Carlisle was enchanting. Though the Volturi brought in humans to feed from everyday, he did nothing but watch as they stole life away from each of them. His lips were always pressed into a hard line, but he made no comments.
And he spoke to Sage, despite Aro having a tight hold on her. His words were softly spoken some nights, on the roof, where no one could see them or hear them--the only solace that Aro gave her. He told her of his travels, and she of her life amongst the Volturi. He longed for a family, and she for survival.
Perhaps it was wrong of her, but it was nice while it lasted. When Carlisle left and Aro punished her for her wrongdoings, Sage did not even feel the pain of her skin cracking or the fire in her mind when Jane stared at her. She did not register her lack of senses from Alec or the beating from Felix for being insufferable and childish.
