Mikaelson • twilight [ON HOLD]

Prologue

Quiet.

The only thing making any noise seemed to be a snowflake, gently floating through the air, blissfully oblivious to the tension. Beside it, landed another. And another. All falling down in almost periodical rhythm, as if imitating the regular beat of a heart and mocking those across the frozen meadow, who did not have a working one on their own. Oddly, it felt as if everything adjacent was soundless, every tree, every animal within the distance, even the wind; still. Everything but the drifting snowflakes.

One settled on equally as cold a body, resting on the bridge of a nose of one of the women in the front. She didn't move, not as more and more were landing on her face, or even to lift her chest in order to breath, eyes firmly locked on the trees before her. By now, she knew the shape of each twig by heart.

Weeks after her transformation and the absence of a beating heart was still strange to her. Yet, even without it, her entire body was pulsing with nerves.

With a sudden twitch, she looked around her.

Everybody was tense. No one dared to disturb the quiet, to utter a word or move more than a muscle. All waiting for the question of the day to be answered. Imagining all the scenarios of how the next few minutes might go down, most of which resulted in more than one death. Rather unpleasant thought.

At last, the sound of snow crunching under numerous feet thundered in the silence.

Her head, along with the rest's, flew to the direction of the noise.

She was scanning the forest, which was conveniently surrounded by fog. It took a few seconds before anything was seen. Then, at once, several cloaked figures emerged. More and more steps were heard, creating somewhat of a steady drum beat as they advanced from the forest; like grains of sand falling down an hourglass. They began forming a row, steadily spreading out as if to taunt the numbers of those opposite them.

More and more seemed to join, emerging from the mist. Marching forward, they were successfully establishing the illusion of an army.

Esme took a step to Carlisle.

Stefan and Vladimir exchanged a glance with glee.

They were gradually creating space in the centre and without interruption, a group easily made their way to the front, now leading the rest.

"Aro's looking for Alice," Edward muttered.

Aro was at the head, skimming over the covens as he walked. His face was uncharacteristically solemn. Jane, on the other hand, couldn't have looked more content.

Irina slowed down for a moment as she took in all the people assembled before her with surprise. She assumed all of Cullens would be present, backing up one another, but that others would join and support such an atrocity as turning a child? That was disconcerting.